Frozen & Burnt

by Anonymous

Summary:

The midwife shakes her head “No, my prince. She was born gone”. He arch’s a nonexistent eyebrow “She”? The midwife nods telling him of the babes temperature. “Hold her” Rhea says hoarsely “Before we lay her to rest”.

Daemon looks at her warily his hands tighten around the dragon egg in his hand. His wife huffs holding the babe out “Take her” she demands. He scoffs, screwing up his face ready to throw an insult at her. Then a faint cracking sound is heard throughout the room. The prince looks down at his hands watching as the egg starts to fracture.
......

The white wind blows the lone wolf dies
Then she is reborn

Chapter 1: FROST I

Summary:

In the year 113 AC. Rhea Royce gives birth to a babe with a strange infliction.

Notes:

I started a joke
Which started the whole world crying
But I didn't see
That the joke was on me - I started a joke: Bee Gees

The smell of smoke fills Sansa’s nose as she runs out into the open. those dead things have overfilled the castle. She lost Tyrion amid all the ruckus. They’ve been together hiding and even took out a couple of them together. Sansa turns her head frantically. She coughs, covering her nose at the smell of charred flesh. 

Another comes rushing at her at full speed. She stabs it in its head and stumbles back as it bursts. She lets out a gasp, clutching her chest. Not only that, but she needs to find one of her siblings. Furthermore, she heads right until she sees the weirwood tree in the distance. Likewise, she runs as fast as she can with the heavy snow underneath her. 

She rushes to the old tree, dodging the other. “Bran” She calls out “Bran”!! He turns his head to face her. “The dead had breached the castle” He notes, turning back to look ahead again. “Yes,” She answers tightly, an annoyance creeping up her spine. 

“We will not win,” He tells her in a Stoic tone. “I can see that” She bites, walking behind him. “That was a mistake” His voice low and grave. She feels goosebumps appearing on her skin. She turns to look down at her brother. “What”? The sharp feeling of something going through her chest makes her gasp out in pain. She looks down slowly to see a spear sticking out of her chest.

She looks back at Bran, gasping in short, sharp breaths. “Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon” He tells her in a soothing voice, “I’ll make sure you’re watched over”. The spear is yanked out of her. She falls back onto the weirwood tree hard. The searing pain in her chest dissipates with the closing of her eyes.

•I•

“Push Milady” The midwife urges the woman on the birthing chair. Lady Rhea Royce heaves for a moment before baring her teeth and giving one last push. She pants and cries as the babe expels from within her. A maid's gasp gets her attention. “What?” She asks, looking at the woman who’s staring at her hands.

“The babe” She cries, “She’s ice-cold”. ‘She’ A little girl? “Ice cold?” The lady questions, “What do you mean”? The maid whimpers and shakes her head, “I’m sorry Milady, she’s gone”. The silence in the room makes itself known to Rhea as she lets the news seep into her mind. She nods before softly sobbing, “Let me see her”.

The maid drops the small, unmoving babe in her arms. The mother gasps at how cold the babe is. She lets out a loud sob, looking down at her daughter. She should've known that it was too good to be true. Rhea and her husband, the rogue Prince Daemon, did not get along at all. 

Then one night, after a few drinks and a heated argument, led to a lifetime consequence that she carried for eight moons. Her pregnancy didn’t bring them together at all. In fact, it causes more tension. At first, the prospect that she’ll not be dealing with the babe alone eased her. However, her child’s father made her life a living hell.

He wanted to control every aspect of the babe that wasn’t even here yet. She should not wish it, but she would like it better if he was disinterested. Just like before. Now she can hear the insults he’ll hurl at her when he sees the dead babe in her arms. “Shall I get the prince?” The midwife somberly asks.

The mother looks up from her babe and nods. The midwife bows her head slightly before retrieving the prince. “Oh, my poor girl” The mother cries as she holds the babe closer to her chest, not caring about the cold burn she’s leaving. She turns her head towards the window, looking at the snow that began to fall when her water broke, come down. The white dove on her window catches her attention.

It must be the same one she’s been seeing since she found out she was pregnant. The bird has been at her window for eight moons. An omen it must be, that’s she thought. She just never imagined it would be a bad one. The door opens, in struts her silver-haired husband.

His pale lilac eyes immediately go to the babe she’s clutching. “It is asleep” He asks wearily, clutching in his hands the dragon egg he picked out. She wants to reply with an insult, but she can’t find the strength to, so she says no. “The babe didn’t draw a breath?” He turns to the midwife, asking.

The midwife shakes her head, “No, my prince. She was born gone”. He arch’s a nonexistent eyebrow, “She”? The midwife nods, telling him of the babe's temperature. “Hold her” Rhea says hoarsely, “Before we lay her to rest”. 

Daemon looks at her warily, his hands tighten around the dragon egg in his hand. His wife huffs holding the babe out “Take her” she demands. He scoffs, screwing up his face, ready to throw an insult at her. The faint cracking sound is heard throughout the room. The prince looks down at his hands, watching as the egg starts to fracture.

A faint cough like sound brings their attention to the babe in the mother’s arms. The mother gasped , holding the baby upright and tapping her chest lightly. “Come on, my girl” She urges, “Come on”. The babe sputters and coughs as the hatchling shatters the egg. Then the babe lets out a loud wail as the hatchling emerges from it home. 

Rhea lets out a loud sob as she hugs her baby to her chest. The prince grabs the slimy creature before it can jump out of his hands. He holds it up in his face, being met with golden yellow eyes.  This dragon is gray with an ivory underbelly and is small than hatchlings that he’s seen. He looks over at the calming woman the crying babe in her arms. 

“Rhea” He calls to her, walking closer with the dragon in his arms. She looks at him warily before holding the babe out for him to see. As he bends over to look at her, the baby opens her eyes for the very first time. Revealing the most unusual eyes they’ve ever seen. The babe eyes are a bright blue, almost illuminated.

They look up at them curiously, burning like ice. 

•I•

It’s been a week since Rhea gave birth to his daughter. This babe has been under close surveillance since she was born. She gave quite the scare when she entered this world. A mischievous act unlike any other given how healthy she is now. Something that not even Daemon can appreciate. 

Dove Targaryen, daughter of Daemon Targaryen.

Dove, pfft, the girl is a Targaryen she should have a name fitted for the family. Her mother, Rhea, however, threw out the name they originally settled for, saying that it didn’t fit her. Pfft, his daughter is a Targaryen and a future dragon rider, the name did fit. Dove, that name does not. For she is a dragon, not a bird.

His daughter stares up at him with her dual colored eyes. He shifts under her calculating stare. He slowly stands and crosses the space between them: their breaths dissonant in the utter silence. His babe was born without a breath. Yet in his presence she found it, along with her dragon hatching in his hands.

His warmth melted the ice in his daughter's veins. Rhea may have brought her into this world, but it is he who brought her to life. They are bonded, that much is sure. That’s why she would only be held by him. Also, why she shares an eye color with him and her hair color. 

Except for the pink tinted streak in the front of his head, he doesn’t know who that belongs to. Her blue eye that was once otherworldly settled to a beautiful topaz. Her skin is pale with rose dusted upon her cheeks. Her pouted bow lips are a bright pink. Not much of him or his wife, but she still has time, according to the maesters.

He hopes this babe lives, hopes she grows. He would hate for the dragon that came to in his hands to be given to someone else. The babe reaches her hand up to him, and he places his pointer finger in it. She grips him with a strength he didn’t know babes can have. She pulls his finger towards her face. 

He waits for the wet, warm trap she’s surely going to put it in, but instead she stares at it. Then her other hand grabs for the ring on his other finger. A signet ring, for his house. His daughter takes it off his hand then lets him go, entirely entrapping his jewelry. He chuckles, leaning forward pressing a light kiss on her forehead.

“I don’t normally reward thieves’s” He says pulling away “So count yourself lucky. You can keep it”.

•I•

She’s thrust out into the world, losing yet another battle. However, death is not the outcome of this one, no, she was granted life. At first, Sansa had no idea who her new parents were. Until one faithful night her new mother was gushing over, and she called her Dove. That made her cry.

Then her new father scoffed, “Dove? You’re naming a Targaryen, Dove”? That made her wail, harder than when she came back. A Targaryen? Why on any earth, will she be a Targaryen? What was Bran thinking? 

Lady Sansa is a Stone now

She is a Stark

Or is she a Lannister

She was born at Winterfell, to Eddard and Catelyn Stark. The bells rang for her until sundown. She was named after a Stark. She owned the family sigil, even if was for a time. Not only that, but she bore the insults hurled at the family. Likewise, she experienced her lowest as well as her highest as a Stark.

I am a Stark my Lady, I will always be a Stark

•I•

Dove Targaryen, that is her new name. The daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Targaryen, née Royce. Their only child. Her new life is not so bad. Other than being stuck as a child, it’s quite alright. It’s funny seeing she can’t remember being a toddler in her old life.

Her mother, Rhea, doted on her. This woman is quite protective of her. Reminding her of Catelyn and her fierce love. Her father, Daemon, however, was in out. He would come play with her, visit her dragon with her, then leave. Every so often he would take her for a flight on Caraxes, despite her mother’s protests.

Sadly, she does not get to know or grow to love the Lady Rhea. For when she turned two her mother had a tragic incident leaving her mother less. Also making her Lady of Runestone. The seat of House Royce.

The image of Myranda Royce of the moon gate appears murky in her mind. The plump woman of her past also brings the image of Littlefinger. Littlefinger, ugh, the vulture disguised as a mockingbird. She was nothing but a pawn back then. She may be one still in this life, given her birth status.

Though from what she’s seen from being here and read from history, she will be fine. Her father will come and visit, never staying, which she doesn’t mind. As sad as it is that she lost another mother at a young age, it’s a good thing. She should not be getting attached to these people for her own good. If she stays here and rules she’ll be fine, she knows it.

> Til I finally died
Which started the whole world living
Oh, if I'd only seen
That the joke was on me

Notes:

Doves- White doves are symbolic of new beginnings, peace, fidelity, love, luck and prosperity.

Snow- Snow may symbolize a new, clean start.
Aside from being a symbol of life and death, snow is also associated with purification and transformation

Chapter 2: FROST II

Summary:

In 120 A.C. The Rogue Prince and his Lady wife, Laena Velaryon lived in Pentos with their twin daughters. The same year the Lady of Runestone visited the Vale.

Notes:

You can buy a dream or two
To last you all through the years
And the only price you pay
Is a heart full of tears - Lonesome Town: Ricky Nelson

“Dovey”!!

 

Laena calls out waiting for the young girl to come to her. After a moment the small seven year old appears before her. She smiles softly at the girl before her making a gesture for her to get closer. “You wanted to see me?” The girl asks giving a small curtsy before walking towards her. “Yes, my dear” The woman answers, nodding “I found it” She bends over slightly grabbing the large book from beside her.

 

Her step daughter, Dove, gasp in delight leaning over to get a look at it. The stepmother lets out a laugh handing it to her. “Why does a young one like you need an agricultural revolution book”? “I have something in mind“ The young one shrugs opening it “ Thank you”. “You’re welcome, dear” She says running a hand along the girls head “How about you hand me that brush and you can sit and read”.

 

The girl nods and grabs the brush, handing it to her then sitting in front of her between her legs. Laena sits further and begins to brush her step daughters hair. The mother loves all of the girls hair. It’s one of her favorite pastimes to sit and do their hair while they drone on about their interests. There’s something so calming in their silver tresses.

 

While her twins have her curly, silver hair that’s soft like touching a cloud. Dove’s is as white as her namesake with a copper chunk in the front. Her hair is waves more than swirls and feels like silk. It’s not as thick as hers and the twins but it’s thicker than most. Who knew peace can be found among three little girls heads?

 

“Do you want to plant someday?” She asks the little who gives a slight nod. “I’m not sure what though” She confess’s, flipping the page. “Well there aren’t many things to be grown here” The step mother points out as she begins to part her hair. “Pentos is a port city” She says “But that’s not what I am thinking of”. “Oh? And what are you thinking of”?

 

“Runestone” The girl answers “When I return back I wanna try and plant something”. “What if the seeds never take root? Because of the land” She asks the girl who shrugs. “Wouldn’t hurt to try” She mumbles flipping the page. Laena chuckles softly at her stepdaughters determination. She’s definitely gotten that from her father.

 

Laena braids Dove’s hair in a simple style. She knows Daemon will be coming at any moment to retrieve the young girl for a dragon ride. A young dragon rider like their cousin Rhaenyra. Laena can’t help but to feel both proud and sad as she looks at the back of her stepdaughters neck. It’s an odd mixture of emotions.

 

She misses her brother, cousin, mother and father. Driftmark, her childhood home as well. “Are you well?” Dove asks sensing Laena’s melancholia. The step mother nods crossing a chunk of hair over the other “Yes, just home sick”. The girl turns slightly “I would like to visit Driftmark someday”. The stepmother leans in returning the soft smile she’s given “I would like to take you there someday. All of you”.

 

A silence settles in the room for a moment before Dove speaks up again. “How come I have to return back to the Vale but you lot stay here”? The stepmother stiffens, for the years that Daemon brought her back and forth from Runestone to Pentos, she’s never questioned it. “We have not finished our business here yet” She answers “And you have business there”. After another moment of silence the little girl speaks up “Why don’t you all come live at Runestone with me”?

 

“Dovey, we cannot do that” The stepmother giggles softly. “Why not?” The girl presses “I am Lady of Runestone and you’re family it would not be so far fetched. Besides wouldn’t it be wonderful if the babe is born in the same birthplace as I”? The stepmother chuckles “Would be wonderful”. The girl turns to face her with a bright smile and giggles. “What would be wonderful?” A deep voice asks.

 

The duo turn their gaze to the doorway where their husband and father, Daemon is standing. “Me, planting” Dove answer’s quickly, “Lady Laena has found the book”. She holds the large book up for her father to see. The man just nods and makes a gesture for her to come closer to him. She stands up and sets the book down making her way to her father. 

 

“Come, lets take to the skies today” He says with a smirk. The girl turns to her stepmother “Are you coming with”? Laena shakes her head “Later”. The girl nods, turning on her heels and heads out the door. Her father follows her with a hand on her back guiding her to their dragons.

 

•II•

 

“Very good” Daemon praises, smile playing on his lips as his daughter climbs of her dragon “You are a true Dragon-rider”. 

 

His daughter huffs snatching off her gloves “I was sloppy”. 

 

“It was excellent”.

 

“I could’ve gotten myself killed”.

 

The father rolls his eyes at her words. She’s a perfectionist, his daughter. He’s never seen a dragon-rider be so clean and precise. Dove hates things out of order with a passion. She’s a control freak.

 

Dragon’s are magical, intelligent creatures. The bond between dragon and rider runs deep, however they still have minds of their own. His daughter’s dragon however is just like her rider. Lady, is her name and she is every bit of her namesake. He watches as his daughter places a kiss right below the dragons eye and whisper in the odd language they share.

 

“She will never allow you to be hurt” He tells her climbing off of Caraxes “This, child, you should know”. He ignores the rolling of her eyes and makes his way to her. “The bond between dragons and riders are sacred and run deeper—“. “Than those with useless pets” She sarcastically spats, “Yes, I know. You’ve told me this for how many years”? He rolls his eyes, once again ignoring her attitude “I’m going for eight”.

 

Dove giggles walking over to Caraxes. She hums to him waiting for him to bow his head to her. She pets him above his snout “Do you want to ride him together? Lady can not saddle for two just yet”. A small smile graced the fathers face. It’s been years since they rode Caraxes together. 

 

Just like his mother did with he and Viserys, Daemon took all three of his girls on dragon-back at a young age. “Sure, little one” He picks her up helping her onto his dragon. “Can I say it?” She asks him, once their secured on the dragon’s back. Daemon nods, his daughter leans in closer “Sōvos” they say in unison. The blood wyrm, races up until he takes off into the sky.

 

Dove giggles turning her head towards the ground. She shouts in her strange language. The father doesn’t have to guess what she’s said. The answer comes in the form of the grey dragon that is soon flying next to them. Soon Baela will join them on these flights, a prospect he gladly will welcome.

 

•II•

 

The days blend together for Sansa. It’s been a long journey back to the Vale. She is set to be a guest at the Eerie, for the Lady Jeyne Arryn. It’s been so long since she’s been there. It sets her nerves aflame. 

 

The huge formidable castle in her view as she’s escorted up the mountains. She can feel the lump that is forming in her throat. Her time in the Eerie back then had been a mummers farce yes, but still dangerous. Before she can blink she is standing in front of the high chair looking at the Lady in front and above her. She straightens her back as she comes to a halt.

 

The Lady Jeyne is a maiden of the Vale. From what Sansa remembers from her studies back then she never married, giving her the name of maiden. Lady Jeyne is also a cousin of the girl heir Rhaenyra Targaryen. She was for the Blacks and fostered the Lady Rhaena, her little sister and housed dragon eggs. That is all that she knows about the Lady from the history books at least.

 

From word of mouth it is said that the maiden prefer women to the company of men in bed. 

 

The young Lady stops just a few steps away from the Eyrie’s high seat to drop into a curtsy. The page announces her to the woman above who genuinely smiles down at her. “My Lady Dove, what a pleasant sight you are” Lady Jeyne greets  as the page steps away “I am for one honored to have the Lady of Runestone in my presence”. The young girl straightens her back offering a smile “As I am, for the Lady of the Eyrie”.

 

“How is your father, dear girl? Was he in a hurry?  I wonder that if that is why he’s not also greeting me” The older Lady says in a tight voice only reserved for the Rouge Prince. After her Royce mother died her Targaryen father petitioned to be her Regent. A prospect that the Lady Jeyne seemed to not have welcome. Sansa has no idea why Lady Jeyne made that decision. Maybe she’s apart of the people who not partial to her Targaryen father. 

 

“I believe he is a hurry to go back to Pentos to be with his pregnant wife, the Lady Laena” She tells the woman. The woman looks her over for a moment before nodding and standing up “Come with me, my Lady. I shall show you to your chambers”. The Lady steps down from her seat leading the way. 

 

Just to her luck she somehow landed in the same bedchamber as when she stayed here before. She chuckles softly to herself as she enters the rooms. “I hope this is to your liking” Her hostess says behind her. ‘It’ll do’ She thinks looking over towards the woman “It’s just fine, my Lady, thank you”. 

 

“You’re welcome” The hostess nods “And I was sorry to hear about your mother. Lady Rhea was... a force”. “So I’ve heard” The girl says “Thank you, my Lady, for your condolences and the stay”. “Well I know what it is like to inherit at a young age and to be a woman at that” She says, her voice dropping an octave “It is a heavy burden. I thought I give you some insight”. To have a woman’s counsel warms Sansa just as it frightens her. Would Lady Arryn be a mentor with good intentions or would she be another Cersei Lannister. 

 

She looks her up and down assessing her. She won’t suffer another Cersei Lannister. She’ll make sure of it. She will be brave like Robb and even Prince Daemon. Facing any foe with a stiff lip and maybe even bronzed knuckles if need be. Though the Lady in front gives no false advertisement, that she can tell. 

 

“I would appreciate that, Lady Jeyne”.

 

•II•

 

Laena walks up to her husband as he sits on the rooftop of the castle. “Laenor has written” She tells him as she sits down in the seat he adjusts for her “Rhaenyra has delivered another son”. “Has your brother also mentioned that this one also bears the mark that is entirely coincidental to that of the commander of the city’s watch?” He chuckles. 

 

“He’s seem to have left that out” She chuckles “I miss my brother Daemon, as do you”. “I miss Westerosi wine, as supposed to the water down shit they drink here” He spats, throwing the wine on the floor and marching over to the balcony. “Do you never long for home?” She asks him as she follows him. 

 

“No”.

 

“I don’t believe you”.

 

“You can believe what you please”.

 

“Hmmm” The wife hums nodding her head slightly “You laud the virtues of Pentos, but that is all. You have no interest in it”. The husband scoffs, rolling his eyes “Is that so”? “Yes. If you did you’d venture out into the city but instead you waste away in that damn library reading of old dragon-riders” She tells him “You don’t have to go to Kingslanding or Driftmark”.

 

“Good, so we stay here” He drolls “It’s been decided”. She cringes internally, why must he insist on this matter? “No, not here or anywhere in this country” She says, she walks closer towards him putting a hand on his arm. “Then where”? “The Vale” She answers, in a low voice. 

 

“The Vale”?

 

She gulps, bracing herself for this conversation with a brave face. “Yes, the Vale” Her voice steady, as is her gaze. He turns around to face her fully, scoffing. “The Vale?” He repeats “You would give up this warmth and our comfort for that plain, cold land”? She nods “Yes, Dove has extended an invitation for us to stay at Runestone”.

 

Her husband scoffs a chuckle, shaking his head “Doves a child”. “She is the Lady of the keep” Laena points out “She is more than happy to let us—“. “No!” He cuts her off “We are to stay here”. Laena knows her husband has his prejudice towards the Vale and Runestone, given his first marriage. “Well, if you don’t want to go you don’t have to” She offhandedly says “I however think it will be good for the girls to be close with their sister who manages her own castle and it’s affairs”.

 

“They’re children” He argues “They have plenty of time to learn”. “They’re princesses, Daemon. They have the blood of old Valaryia” She counters, scoffing at him. He can choose to waste away and become a hermit for all she cares. It’s his life, he can do as he pleases. However, she’ll be damned if he wants to drag herself and the children with him. 

 

She doesn’t care if he’s the man. This will not be the only life she’ll live. “I do not hold any grudge against you, I know you, I know your heart” She rubs a hand in a comfortable manner down his arm “Do as you wish”. She drops her hand holding his gaze, her eyes burning into his own. “Know this” She bites out “You will not drag any of the girls or myself down this depressing road. I will not allow you to”. 

 

He blinks several times before sighing in defeat. Laena gives him one last look before she retreats back inside. Daemon turns his head to the city below him. Perhaps, she’s right. He’s a dragon. 

 

The blood of old Valaryia.

 

He will not stay in the shadows of a city that is not his own. The Vale, however is the last place he’d stay at. He’d go in live in Caraxes stomach before laying in that castle for the lesser man. But Laena is right, not just now but before. The twins should be at a castle according to their birthright, surrounded by family and true allies.

 

The babe should be born in Driftmark or Dragonstone. Dove is the Lady of Runestone, due to her mother’s death back then. There are still large amount of gold cloaks that he’s allied with. People of the city still have them in their hearts. Maybe it is time to go back home.

 

•II•

 

Sansa sits beside the Lady Arryn as she assorts through her letters. Lady Jeyne, has been a great host and mentor, seeing to all of Sansa’s needs and wants. As a young female inheritor herself, Jeyne knows it exactly how it is. Lady Dove has a long ways to go and a harsh journey. From what the older woman has seen so far the girl can definitely endure it.

 

The young girl absentmindedly toys with the Targaryen signet ring hanging from the thick chain on her neck. “A raven from Runestone has arrived” The older woman says not looking up from her pile. “My cousin wants to acknowledge me now?” The young girl hums , she doesn’t turn to face the other woman either. “Have you always had problems him”? “Problems? Hmm, no” The girl chuckles lightly shaking her head “No, though this is the longest since I heard from him”.

 

“He is your Regent?” The older woman asks “From what I remember”. Sansa nods, her cousin Gerald is her regent. A notion that the Lady Jeyne herself put in place. “Ah, you kept my decision” The older woman tosses a smile before picking up the rolled paper “Here”. The younger woman takes the scroll gently with her free hand. 

 

She reads over the contents of the paper before handing it back to her mentor. “Just reports” She tells her “Status of my keep”. The older woman takes it, reading the contents of the paper herself. She smiles softly at the young girl, setting the paper down “Good”. Sansa returns the soft smile to the older woman.

 

‘Why couldn’t she be my ward back in Kingslanding?’ She thinks to herself. “You know my dear as women we are vastly underestimated” Lady Jeyne tells her after a moment of silence “But we prevail and show them wrong”. There is no showing them wrong, this the young woman in her knows. “When I no longer need a Regent, what will be of me”? A question that has racked her mind since last year.

 

Will her people follow her? What of her cousin? Would he accept her or would he challenge the claim? What if the power she has given has seeped into him, that he’d want to keep it. Or worse, if he wanted more?

 

“Gerold is a good man” The Lady Jeyne assures her “He will not challenge you. Neither will others, I assure you this”. She nods, taking in the older woman’s words. “You’re right” She agrees “I’m just being paranoid”. “No you’re not” Her mentor assures her “In fact, it’s a good thing that you’re thinking that. Means you’re aware of your situation. You’re a smart one Dove and if you hold on to that you don’t have to worry what will become of you”. 

 

They exchange a smile with each other, the mentor running a hand through her pupils hair. A  knock on the threshold gathers their attentions. A page walks in and bows to them “A message from the Prince, Daemon”. They stand up and Jeyne extends her arm out towards the man taking the paper. She doesn’t open it just hands it to her pupil.

 

Sansa takes the letter eagerly but gently, destroying the wax as she open it. It’s only a paragraph. One that shatters her heart. ‘Laena is dead’ The first words read. She gasps, tears quickly gather in her eyes. 

 

“What is it?” Jeyne asks the girl, who just stretches her hand out. The mentor takes the paper and reads the letter. She looks over to the little girl with a sympathetic look. “Don’t” The young girl huffs “It is life”. “Still, I am sorry” The older woman says, putting the paper down “I offer my condolences little one”.

 

Well this is what she gets for not sticking to her word.

 

Don’t get attached!

 

> Maybe down in Lonesome Town

I can learn to forget

Notes:

A/N: Hello, for this story I’m leaning in more book related for the games of thrones portion. You can still have the actors from the show be a face claim if you want or even pick your own. Now, it is stated multiple times in the books that Sansa relies on her courtesy’s it’s literally apart of who she is. As is her religion. I have no idea why in the show they just ditch those two big aspects of her character.

Dove is Sansa is was always going to be Sansa Stark and there is going to be lore around reincarnation and why she came back as a Targaryen. Lady was also reincarnated, so Sansa’s bond with her dragon is going to be different than ‘regular’ dragon and riders bonds.

So because I am not going in the show route and the books aren’t finished I am just going with the flow of what I think would happen. It’s fanfiction so it’s okay! And because of this that whole Ramsay plot is in the trash. Along with that whole Daenerys vs. Sansa storyline because I don’t believe that’ll happen.

Not saying that they’ll be best friends but I don’t buy that Sansa would actively over play her hand. Also Sansa’s story is very Vale based. She is so much like Ned who was raised by an Arryn. She is referred to birds. So is Littlefinger who is from the Vale. The Arryn’s sigil includes a falcon. So I believe she will stay in the Vale and restore Winterfell by helping her family with the support of the Arryns through her marriage. Also that she’ll Warg into birds.

Anyways I hope you enjoy this story and feel free to put your input or just comment your thoughts. <3

Chapter 3: FROST III

Summary:

In 120 AC. The Lady Laena was put to rest at her father’s seat in Driftmark. The same year the Prince Aemond claims the world’s largest dragon, Vhagar and loses his eye.

Notes:

When I knew love's perfect ache
But my peace has always depended
On all the ashes in my wake - Arsonists Lullabye: Hozier

Salt fills Sansa’s nose as she walks through the halls of Driftmark. She’s never been here nor has she wanted too. The home of the Velaryon’s another Valaryia based house. One that was told to her through many exciting stories. She loathes this place now.

For it is where she has to say goodbye to yet another mother. The twins, Runestone, and Pentos, are all where she lost a mother. She may have gain a second life but that doesn’t mean the universe is on her side. She stops in front of the large open doors to Lord Corlys’ hall. She looks at everyone who is gathered in here.

Her Targaryen father, uncle, and cousins. “Where’s Baela And Rhaena?” She asks, the adults in the room. “There in a room, along with my children” The younger woman says, giving her a small, yet grieving smile. Sansa looks the woman over assessing which Targaryen she’s speaking to. Seeing as she is the only young looking woman with Targaryen ‘features’, this must be Princess Rhaenyra.

The girl nods then curtsy’s, she then turns her head to face the Lord and Lady of Driftmark. “My Lord and Lady, I want to offer my condolences for your loss” She says in a sympathetic tone “As well as you, Ser Laenor”. Unknown to her the Princess Rhaenys notices the crack in her voice. “Thank you, my Lady” The couple say in unison. She faces the King “You’re grace” then Rhaenyra “You’re highness”.

“I hope I don’t sound rude but I would like to see my sisters” She tells them, her gaze switching from one adult to the other. “I’ll escort you to them” Princess Rhaenys volunteers, already walking towards the door. Sansa looks over to her father who gives her a nod that she returns. The pair walk out of the door in silence. 

After a moment the older woman speaks up “You can cry you know. I won’t judge”. The girl stops walking looking up at the older woman “Cry”? The older woman nods “You are obviously in need to and I know how much you meant to Laena”. In the letters that Rhaenys has received from her daughter she often mentioned her stepdaughter, whom she cared for deeply.  So much so that she talks about her when she visited Driftmark. 

Princess Rhaenys has never met her daughter’s stepdaughter until now and her first impression is that the girl is quite... different. The girl is a small thing, tall for her age but small. Her wavy silver-white hair is pulled back from her face with a dragonfly hair-clip. There’s also a chunk of auburn copper in the front on the right side of her head. Her eyes are of two shades like her grandmother, Alyssa but instead of green and purple, she sports Alysanne blue and birthstone amethyst. 

Her skin is paler than usual Targaryen’s as well. “I don’t think that will be appropriate of me” The girl says turning her head to look forward again. “Why not?” The older woman asks “From my understanding you two were close”. The girl nods her head then looks back up at her “I loved her, I still do. I...”. “What is it child?” The words seem to have broken the dam that was keeping her tears at bay.

“I.... feel cursed” She says tearfully Turing to look at the ground “Yet another mother has been taken from me. Am I, meant to be motherless”? Catelyn, Rhea, and Laena, all taken from her at young ages, she was never meant for them. “Oh, dear” Rhaenys coo’s. Her words make Sansa freeze up she looks up at the Princess in panic. “Oh, I’m sorry” She cries out looking at the older woman with wide tears eyes “You lost a daughter and here I am taking grief that is entitled to you”.

“Oh, dear... no you are entitled as well” Rhaenys says stopping and getting down to the girls level “I am glad that she meant so much to you”. At least her daughter was loved unconditionally by someone other than her daughters. Although she suppose that this girl is a daughter of Laena’s. “Thank you, and I am truly sorry for your loss” Out of all the condolences that has been given to her and that she’ll soon receive, this girl’s words are truly sincere. 

•III•

The cool breeze from the sea brushes against Aemond’s skin as he looks out at it. Driftmark is not as bad as he anticipated. Maybe he was nervous because of his mother’s ramblings about yet again being surrounded by those who are against her. According to gossip his father, King Viserys was set to marry the Lady Laena, or at least was under the impression. Yet his father had other ideas by announcing the maiden he’d wed will in fact not be the Lady Laena Velaryon but his mother, the Lady Alicent Hightower.

Somewhere down the years the Lady Laena has decided to wed the Rogue Prince, Daemon. His uncle, who is grandfather, Otto Hightower is not a fan of at all. It seems as though that the Rogue Prince And his wife are not partial towards his mother and grandfather. However with the Lady Laena’s death, Hands and Queens must pay their respects. No matter how bad the blood is between them.

The Prince Aemond turns his head from the edge of the balcony to look out towards the crowd. He sees his nephews, sister, parents and Lord Corlys and his wife. As he assess the crowd his eyes land on a figure walking from under the tented table. His breath hitches a little as he watches the person stop in their steps and look at him. Yet she’s not looking at him but rather behind him.

He turns around to see what she could be so enchanted by. His eyes immediately land on the flying gray dragon. The animal soars up over them then swoops down to the hill top where his brother’s dragon Sunfyre is resting. The dragon is  a dark gray with an ivory underbelly that shimmers like a pearl in the sun. On it’s neck in a long light blue silk tied into a bow. 

He looks back over to the girl who’s still staring at the dragon with a small smile. He’s been introduced to everyone here except for her but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know who she is. The Lady Dove. Dove, what an odd name. A dove is a bird, an animal, not a name for a girl.

A Princess, a Targaryen Princess at that. 

He has never met her before at all. He grew up around Rhaenyra’s bastards and was occasionally introduced to the twins his uncle shared with Laena. Yet he has never came into contact with his uncle’s firstborn by his first wife. She’s a pretty girl there is no denying that and quite poise as well. He’s guessing it has to do with the fact that she is the Lady of Runestone. 

Her dress is bronze with light blue dragonflies embroidered on it. Her hair is half braided pulled to the back and tied with the same light blue ribbon tied into a bow as the dragon. According to his father her dragon hatched just mere seconds after she sees her first breath. A dragon that she named at just a year old named Lady. Lady, what an odd name for a dragon. 

Dragons are fearsome, magical creatures. A great power. They deserve names that will make enemies shiver. Lady, ha... what a fearsome beast indeed. The Lady of Runestone’s eyes lock with his snapping him out of his reverie. Before he can even blink she is already making her way over to him. 

Walking gracefully around the bodies that block her way straight ahead. Aemond straightens himself out as he waits for his cousin to face him. The girl stops just a few feet away, in front him. Her dual colored eyes gleam with curiosity as she looks him over. “What?” He finds himself blurting out as he tries not to squirm underneath her gaze. 

Prince Aemond Targaryen, also known as Aemond ‘One eyed’ and Aemond ‘kin slayer’. A reckless man, who the God’s have forsaken for his abhorrent crime. Though the person that is looking at her with suspicion and curiosity is just a boy. A young hatchling of the age ten. A cousin of hers related through her Targaryen father. 

“You were the one staring at me” She says, matter-of-factly. Aemond feels his cheeks warm as a red blush of embarrassment coats them. He can’t find any words to say and anger starts to build at the thought of him making himself look like a fool. Sensing his uneasiness the girl smiles nicely and introduces herself “I’m Dove”. The boy looks her over with a guarded expression before replying with a dull “Aemond”.

“Pleasure to meet you” She says, keeping the smile sweet. Aemond looks his cousin over one more time. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes but it doesn’t seem to be false. The girl puts her hand in his guiding him to the edge of the balcony. “The sea is beautiful, is it not?” She asks her voice full with wonder “I love the sea in Pentos. Runestone is by water as well but my cousin Gerold doesn’t like me near it. Fear I might drown or something”.

“Can you swim?” He asks her. She shakes her head “No, but I’ll learn”. He likes the determination in her voice as she says it. “Can you swim” She asks him and he shakes his head. “Oh well” She shrugs “No worries, we’ll learn together”. 

He scoffs “I rather be in the sky than in the sea” as his nose turns up in disgust. Dove chuckles softly “Oh Aemond, the sky and sea are one. Have you’ve not seen”? Then she points out his eyes land to the illusion that is far from them. Where the sea and sky merge as one.

He shrugs “I suppose you’re right” He says “I still choose the sky over the sea”. “Hmmm, I suppose I understand” She says still staring at the illusion across the sea “My Lady has shown me the wonders of the sky”. That doesn’t mean she is any way fine with being a Targaryen or to have a dragon. Yet that is what she and her sweet Lady are so this will have to suffice. As long as they’re together is all that matters to her. 

Aemond stiffens at the adoration radiating from her. He has no dragon, he will never know the wonders of sky. Sensing his discomfort Sansa places a hand on the Prince a small sympathetic smile on her lips. “You will take to the skies” She finds herself telling him. She has no idea why she is giving him the sentiment especially when she’s in mourning of losing yet another mother figure.

His mother had told him that he’ll have a dragon. When will that be? It’s been ten years, a decade and he’s still dragonless. Even Rhaenyra’s bastards have dragons. “Really, when?” He asks an annoyed tone.

‘When Ser Laenor dies’ She thinks, but Vhagar is available for him to claim now. Sansa brushes of his irritation and cold gaze offering him a gentle squeeze where their hands are connected. “I’m not sure” He rolls his eyes, turning away from her. She pulls him back to her “There are still dragons without riders” she tells him “I’m sure you can convince your father to let you claim one”. “You mean try?” He asks in an a sure way. 

His cousin shakes her head, a genuine smile gracing her lips “No, I mean claim. Aerea Targaryen had claimed the black dread at just two and ten years of age, you will have an even better feat”. The words make his cheeks grow hot with blush as his heartbeat picks up a little at the encouraging words. “You may claim the fierce Vermithor or even the infamous Cannibal” She suggests playfully “And when you do, the Lady and I, will be in the skies cheering for you”. She gives his hand a squeeze one last time before letting go and walking into the sea of people. 

She hopes she has given him some comfort. When she arrived back at Winterfell her heart hurt seeing Jon with Ghost, so she knows better than anyone what it feels like not to have that bond. As well as placing his mind on another dragon. 

Aemond watches as his cousin walks over to the Princess Rhaenys. Her words still lingering in his ears. ‘And when you do the Lady and I, will be in the skies cheering for you’. How can a stranger give him more comfort and encouragement than the family he grew with? Like an omen the sky grows dark Aemond, as the rest of the crowd look up to see the fierce Vhagar cover the sun as she flies by.

In that moment Aemond knew that he will have a greater feat.

•III•

Sansa walks around the bodies of the guests as she makes her way to the girl on the bench. Princess Rhaenys has taken her little half sisters inside to rest, according to her. Sansa’s guess is that the grieving mother has had a trying day and does not want to sit amongst those who clearly doesn’t share her grief. She does not blame her she knows what it is like to be surrounded by those who could care less about your suffering. Even more about those who would gladly join in.

“May I sit with you” She asks the girl, who jumps startled “Oh, apologies I didn’t mean to scare you”. The girl is a cousin related through her Targaryen father. She has the Valaryian coloring but her face is all Hightower. The girl nods and scoots a little, either to not be so close or to make room. Sansa sits down on the bench and sighs rubbing her eyes.

They sit in silence for about two minutes. The whole time she can feel the passing looks at her and see from her peripheral the girl open and close her mouth like she wants to speak. Sansa wants to encourage her but thought it best to just let the girl find the courage to speak herself. “The... dragonflies on your dress are very accurate” She says after a moment. “Oh, thank you” Sansa looking down at her dress “I worked we really hard on them”.

“You did these?” The other Princess asks in wonder. She nods “Yes, Princess I helped with the dress”. “You did?” She asks again her Lavender eyes widening “Can you show me or make me one”?! Sansa chuckles softly, nodding her head “I would love to”. The girls go silent for a moment before she turns her head and introduces herself. 

“I am Dove, by the way” She says a soft smile on her lips. “Helaena” The Princess offers with the same smile. “I like bugs” Helaena says after a another moment of silence “Insects, I have a collection of them. They are fascinating creatures”. The other girl chuckles “Yes, they are. It is so good to have someone who thinks other creatures belong in the fascinating category along with dragons”. This whole family is so engrossed with their dragons, they don’t even know the other wonders that are out there.

“Do you have a dragon?” The Princess asks her. “Yes” She answers then turns her body to point at the gray dragon on the hill “There she is. My Lady”. “Oh no need to be formal—“. Sansa cuts her off with a chuckle “Her name is Lady, cousin”. Helaena’s cheeks grow hot with embarrassment and she shakes her head “I... am an idiot”.

The other girl grabs her hand and gives it a slight squeeze “No your not, Princess. You did not know. If anything, I’m the idiot, for naming my dragon a title that is frequently used”. The Princess chuckles softly, shaking her head “If I’m no idiot, neither are you”. 

•III•

It all happened so fast. One minute he was racing down the stairs of the keep. The next he was disturbing the great Vhagar from her rest. The next he was climbing on top of the great beast. Then he was high taking to the skies like a true dragon-rider. 

Then he was walking back into the keep just to be confronted by Rhaenyra’s bastards. Jacerys the older one, asks him what he was doing so late. Lucerys says that one of Daemon’s twins saw the large Vhagar in the sky. Then words were said, fist were thrown, rocks were held and a blade was waved. Now he’s sitting in the main hall of Driftmark as their Maester stitches him up.

“It’ll heal Maester, will it not?” His mother asks hopefully, her big hazel eyes shining with tears. “The flesh will” The Maester answers still pulling the thread through his cheek “The eye will not”. His mother gasps out in horror, fast like a viper she is on her feet and in front of his older brother, Aegon. “Where were you?” She asks seething. “Me?” His brother dumbly asks.

His mother’s hand was too fast for anyone to catch as it lands on his brother’s face with a loud smack. “What was that for?” The eldest son cries out. “Oh… oh that? That was not even an ounce of the abuse your brother has face” She hisses out, pointing towards him “Look what has happened while you were drowning in your cups, you fool”. She releases him with a hard push out of frustration. When she touches Aemond, her hand gives him a gentle touch.

His mothers hand grabs his and she leans over him with big fat tears cling to her lashes. “Oh, my dear boy” She whispers the cry “What have they done to you”? Aemond gives his mother’s hand a gentle squeeze in comfort. His chest tightens at her sorrow. The small moment is shattered the moment his older half sister comes into the room.

She bursts in calling out for her bastards with his rogue uncle trailing behind her. Rhaenyra rushes towards her sons, immediately dropping on her knees to check her second son’s nose. “Who did this?” She shouts in anger “Who broke my son’s nose”? “He attacked me” Aemond shouts. “What?” She asks, confusion taking over her features “Why would he do that”?

“Do not question my son like he’s in the wrong” His mother hisses “Look at what your son did”. She points to his scar. Rhaenyra’s eyes go wide in shock then she shakes her head “No… my boys… my sons would never do that they’re good”. “They’re savages” His mother all but shouts “First that ghastly pig, now this”? Aemond squeezes his mother’s hand again trying to calm her. “Alicent” His father scolds “Please”.

Rhaenyra’s face turns into stone as she looks at her former friend. This woman is someone she scarcely recognizes. First she treats her in a way this very unbefitting of a Princess let alone the heir to the Iron Throne. Then she spreads nasty rumors about the legitimacy of her children, knowing full well the price it’ll cost them. Now, once again, she is pitting the children against one another.

“My son’s are savages?” Her voice is but a whisper but it holds weight with the look she gave to Aegon. The queen’s eyes widen and she steps to the side to block her eldest from the other woman’s view. “They’re bullies” The queen states “And now they’ve gone to far”. The woman heir shakes her head ‘they’re not bullies’ she thinks ‘they’re just children’. The sounds of doors opening are heard in the hall and the sight of Lord Corlys and his wife, Princess Rhaenys racing down the stairs.

“What is happening?” The Lord of Driftmark demands, looking over at the others in his hall. The children all begin to shout what happened outside that led to the fight. “Enough” The King calls but it is fallen on deaf ears “ENOUGH”! The room grows silent as the King rubs his forehead in annoyance. “Aemond” His father calls to him looking him in the eye “I would have the truth of what happened, tell me”.

So Aemond told him everything that happened while leaving out the bastards comment. The King nods his head then turns to Jacerys “Jacerys, tell me what happened and I want the truth”. So the woman heir’s son tells his version that aligns well with his grandfather’s second son. However one detail is added. “Aemond didn’t mean it” Alicent says quickly, once the word leaves his mouth “In fact I don’t even know if he said it”. “Oh, so first my son’s are savages and now they’re liars” Rhaenyra scoffs with a sarcastic laugh “What else do you believe my son’s to be? Hmm? Please enlighten us all”.

“Rhaenyra” The father to them both scolds. “He heard it from someone” She presses, ignoring her father “I would like to know who”. Her eyes narrow at the other woman, who’s eyes widen with anger. “The Prince Lucerys has brought a blade to the ambush” Alicent points out , going back to the real issue at hand “He meant to kill my son”. ‘Is she serious?’ Rhaenyra thinks scoffing out loud.

“It was my sons who were attacked” She spits out harshly “And they were force to defend themselves especially when you add in the vile insults that were levied against them”. ‘You rotten woman’ The Queen thinks shaking her head in disappointment ‘Who even is this woman’? A ghost of the person she once held so dearly in her heart. “I am heir to the Iron Throne, and so are my children by extension” Rhaenyra says looking to her father “To put in questions of the legitimacy of my children is of the highest of treason, your Grace”. She casts a look to the woman in green then back to her father “Prince Aemond should be sharply questioned to find out where he’s heard such things”.

The Queen gasps in horror, teeth baring at the threat. ‘See how you like the life of your children being threatened’ The woman heir thinks narrowing her eyes to harden the blow. “Over an insult”? Yes “My son has lost an eye” it was your own doing. “Enough of this” Viserys hisses out “Aemond” The boy looks up at his father who starts to tower over him “The truth I’ll have it, tell me who told you this”. 

A cold feeling washes over the Queen as the severity of the situation thumps into her brain. “Gossip” She says “The boys on the training yard must of said something”. The King does not believe her she knows, she knows what he knows. Yet she once again tries to distract by bringing up the so called father of Rhaenyra’s sons. It does nothing though, he stays onto Aemond pushing for her boy to talk.

The Queen’s heart thumps hard as she looks at her boy. ‘Please’ she begs, ‘Please’ he sees. The second son looks up at his father with three words escaping his mouth “It was Aegon”. “Me?” The elder brother questions beyond confused of what is even being accused of him. “Where did you hear such calumnies?” The King asks hobbling over to his eldest son “Aegon” he shouts when he doesn’t get an answer “Answer me”!

The older boy flinches at his father’s tone “Everyone knows, father” He says Just look at them father”. Alicent’s heart drops at the scene before her. He wanted a son so bad, just for him to treat them like this. “This interminable infighting must cease” He shouts “And I mean all of you! We are a family! Now make your apologies and show good will to one another. Your father, grandsire, your King demands it”! He slams his cane once more on the floor in a show of force before he turns to walk.

“That is insufficient” Alicent says after a moment “Aemond has been traumatically, permanently damaged and good will is supposed to make him whole”? Viserys sighs “I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye”. “No because it has been taken” She points out. “What would you have me do”?

What would she have him do? “There is a debt to be paid” She says, a long pause before she speaks again, “I shall have one of her son’s eyes as well”. Rhaenyra’s heart leaps into her throat, once again she puts her children in danger. “My dear wife—“. “He’s your son, Viserys” She cries out in desperation “Your blood”. 

One of the son’s that you so desperately wanted. Defend me and avenge him. “Do not allow your temper to cloud your judgment” The King warns his wife. “If the King will not seek justice then the Queen must” She states in a steady voice “Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon”. Rhaenyra’s second son clings to her “Mother” He gasps. 

“He can choose which one he wants to keep” Alicent offers “A privilege he did not grant my son”. 

•III•

From the staircase of the great hall, Sansa watches the chaos from a far. This entire act reminds her of the confrontation at the trident. From the demeanors, veiled and non veiled threats and attitudes, down to the blood for blood. The confrontation at the trident was just the tip of the iceberg for the conflict between the Lannister’s and Starks. Yet, it appears that conflict has been brewing between the two mothers down there.

Which means this is the breaking point between The Blacks and The Greens. This is it. The war is beginning. Looking at these figures from the history pages, she notices she doesn’t want to back any of them. Though she has no choice, now does she.

“Where is duty” The Queen hisses “Where is sacrifice”. She is a duty bound woman. Is that why she had pushed for Aegon to be crowned? Is it because she believes in the tradition that men are the heir and it is the duty of the Queen to uphold that tradition? Or is it because of her desire to rule, so she lives vicariously through her own son?

“Exhausting wasn’t it?” The woman heir asks in an exasperated tone “Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness”? She can detect the mockery underneath as well. The Princess whispers something to the Queen that causes her to shout and finally attack the other woman. What has the Princess whispered? It seems like no one knows what was said.

“Do not mourn me, mother” Aemond says, in a strong authoritative voice for a little boy “I may have lost an eye but I gained a dragon. It was a fair exchange”. Then his eye catches hers, he nods his head and she sucks in a deep breath. In this moment she has realized what she just had done. Vhagar, is the world’s largest dragon currently and had fought in the conquest with warrior Queen Visenya. This is a huge feat for a boy of the age ten. 

The boy is a rogue just like her Targaryen father. History tells her that much with his burning of the Riverlands and his killing of Lucerys Velaryon. This conflict between them is only going to stew with the lost of his eye. Until it bursts when they meet again. She knows this by The Hound and his anger towards his brother.

A just anger that she can not deny. Although for the sake of him and everyone in this room it is best to mediate as much as she can. This war is also called the dying of the dragons. She just got Lady back and she’ll be damned if she loses her again. As everyone starts to clear out of the hall, Sansa has made her decision. 

•III•

“When I told you that you’ll have a bigger feat I did not expect you to do that” Aemond hears his cousin say behind him. He is in his room packing up with the assistance of his older sister, Helaena. “Dove” Helaena gasps in a startled voice, once she is focused on something she is focused. A one tracked mind you could say. However her fright is gone within a second and the brightest smile he’s ever seen her have appears on her face.

Sansa could not help but return the smile as she looks to her Targ-tower cousin “Laney”. She doesn’t know where the affectionate nickname came from but it just feels right. The other girl’s s smile gets impossibly wider and she can’t help but feel she made the right choice of using it. “Laney” She muses “I like that. Shall I call you Dovey”? A pang of pain hits her heart at the sound of the name.

Laena use to call her that. Baela was Baely, Rhaena was Rhaeny and she was Dovey. Her Targaryen father scoffed at it and said that it was ridiculous but they all know he secretly loves it. “Of course” She breathes out, widening her smile. Aemond can’t help be captivated by her smile. In this moment he knows what her true smile looks like and he would not mind for her to share it with him. 

“Yes, well, it’s done and now I am a dragon rider as well” He brings back the original conversation in a confident tone.  Sansa finds herself smiling at his tenacity, it almost like she’s in the presence of Robb. “Yes, you are” She muses “I offer my congratulations. As well as my sincere apologies, I did not mean for you to lose an eye”. ‘I tried to avoid it’. He can see the guilt that is in her eyes.

‘Does she believe that this is her doing’?

He grabs her hand giving it a gentle squeeze “You do not owe me any apologies. The fault does not lie with you”. ‘Oh, if you knew’ She thinks. “I do feel sorry” She tells him “You shouldn’t have lost an eye”. ‘No I shouldn’t’. “What’s done is done” He tells her “And it’s all over now”.

But it’s not because if it was, the incident at Storm’s end would not have happened. It won’t happen though if she has anything to do with it. “If you say so, my Prince” She says with a small smile “Well I should get going and you two. To your packing and I wish you a safe and speedy recovery, Prince Aemond”.

His cousin nods a goodbye spinning on her heels and heading out. Then she stops and turns slightly to face him with amusement in her eyes. “And I hope to see you again” She says “The both of you. And I do believe that the Lady and I owe you a few cheers”. With that she leaves the siblings alone. Aemond feels his cheeks grow hot with blush as a fluttering inside him takes to life.

“I like her” His sister says behind him as she continues to pack. “I do too” He replies with a small smile. He would definitely hold her to that debt.

•III•

Daemon stares out into space where sea meets sky. He doesn’t have to turn around to know who has approached him. His daughter’s earthy scent filled his nose letting him know of her arrival. “That was quite a night” Young Dove says walking closer towards him. He chuckles and turns to face her “Yes, it was”. 

His daughter nods in agreement looking out into the space with a solemn expression. “I have a feeling that this is only the beginning of an ugly storm” She says, tightly. ‘You have no idea’ He thinks looking back at the distance. “And I know that you are not going to Runestone with me” She adds looking up at him as he shakes his head. “No, we will not” He tells her. She nods, looking back into the distance “Where will you go”?

“Dragonstone” He answers with a proud smile “As are you”. If she is shocked by the new she does not show it. “I cannot stay there long though” She tells him, her fingers reaching to play with the signet ring that was once his “I will be going to the capital”. Daemon turns to face her once again “The capital”? The daughter nods, her face growing hard. 

“Why are you going to the capital?” What business does she have at the capital? “The Targaryen’s built and designed the red keep” She says, in a prideful manner, before her voice turns grave “Also don’t you want to know the kind of company in the King’s home”. He knows what kind of company is in his brother’s home and presence. Vultures, waiting to take what his family had built. And by his daughter’s demeanor, so does she.

“Is this why you were mingling with the green mutts?” He asks her in demanding tone “Are you a turn cloak, daughter”? “I am the Lady of Runestone don’t judge me for making political alliances” She reply’s in a nonchalant tone. “You can make your alliances with those who don’t dare to oppose the true heir to the throne”. “I am not looking to be long term friends with anyone” She tells him “I only mean to—“. “To what?” He interrupts “To what? Because to me it seems you have some ambitions that do not help our family”. 

Dove scoffs, rolling her eyes “What will you have me do? Hmmm? Since you are so wise”? His eyes narrow and he takes hold the signet ring he once held dear and clasps it tight. His daughter matches his glare head on. Their stare down lasts for a couple of more minutes before he lets the necklace go and chuckles. She will definitely make it in the capital, he muses. 

“Is there anything that I need to know before I go?” Dove asks him, adjusting the jewelry on her neck. He shrugs “Don’t trust the cunts” He tells her. “Well that seems to be everyone, father”. “Exactly” He deadpans, his attention turning back to the illusion. His demeanor gives away lot, when his words give nothing. 

“What do you have plan?” She asks him. He internally groans at her question. You cannot hide much from his eldest’s hawk like eyes. “Don’t you mind that” He tells her in quick words “Now go, pack we’ll be leaving soon enough”. “Yes father, oh and the King has not left yet. He in fact has requested your presence in the hall” She says, then she gives him a smirk that matches the one he wears often “While you say your goodbyes, you can also tell him about my stay in the capital in a fortnight”.

> Don't you ever tame your demons
But always keep 'em on a leash

Notes:

I hoped you enjoyed the first meeting and this chapter! <3

Chapter 4: FROST IV

Summary:

In 120 AC. The young Lady of Runestone takes to the capital.

Notes:

There is a house way down in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun - House of the rising sun: The Animals

Dragon Stone is quite the fortress, Sansa will give it that. Dragons are literally carved out of the stone that is the capital. The doors are the mouths of the dragons. She’s sure Arya would think it would be fun to walk into a dragon’s mouth. She’s also sure that young Bran would of loved to climb this castle or at least try to.

Today is her last day here, well more like morning. She is due to go to the capital and is to sail out this afternoon. Her and the family have been here for a fortnight exactly. Three days into their arrival, her Targaryen father married his Heir niece. Not a gap between the deaths of the Velaryon children. 

Sansa has a sneaking suspicion that Ser Laenor’s death is of their doing. Or maybe it’s not but they both know more than they let on. She knocks on the door of the solar that she knows, Rhaenyra to be in. “Who is it?” She hears her ask through the door. “It’s Dove” She answers in a sweet voice.

“Come in dear” The Princess bids not even a second later. Sansa lets herself into the solar, dropping into a curtsy “Your Highness” and closing the door behind her. “My Lady” The Princess greets, with a small closed mouth smile “How may I help you”. The girl shakes her head “I just came to say goodbye to you, is all, Princess”. The woman nods “Oh, leaving already”?

“Yes, after the noon meal that I’ll be taking with my sisters” She tells her “I broke my fast with the boys with them. Jace is so funny”. The mother smile twitches at the mention of her eldest boy. Her husband’s eldest daughter never paid her much mind. The girl is kind enough and is always respectful towards her but Rhaenyra can feel that something is amiss. “Hm, he is” She muses, then she sits up straighter her face turning serious but is not hard “You are a smart one, Dove, I’ll give you that but you are still a child. Only seven, I can’t imagine what you think of this situation we are all in”.

Sansa looks the Princess over, she’s completely rigid. Her indigo eyes hold a suspicion in them, that she can’t quite hide. She’s anxious, the girl can tell by the way she’s fidgeting with all her rings, going back in forth from one to the other. She knows this type of anxiety, she’s felt it before. Yet, it reminds her of someone else.

From what she knows is that Rhaenyra became a paranoid person during the dance. Maybe she has always been paranoid. “I do not know what you mean, your Highness” Dove says in a guarded manner. It lets the woman heir think that  the little girl knows exactly what she means. “Dove, I am not going to treat you like a child in this conversation” She tells her, her voice becoming sweet “I know what it’s like to know something at a young age and to have adults completely diminish it because you’re ‘too young’. I assure you I will not treat you as such”. 

She’s being honest that much is clear. In fact, it seems as though she wears her emotions out in the open. A blessing and a curse for sure. Especially when you throw in the people that live in the capitol. The vultures in the sky and the rats on the ground will make a feast of this woman. 

Just as they tried with Sansa Stark.

“What do you think I know?” She asks flatly, making the Princess sigh. “I think you may have gotten in your head about some things” The Princess answers. ‘Like for instance you think I had something to do with my husband’s death’. The girl can tell that’s all she is going to get out of her. So she decides that this will be the end of this conversation.

“I’m sorry, your Highness but I am not in my head about anything but Runestone” She tells her “I should go and get the rest of my things ready for travel”. She curtsy’s and begins to turn on her heel when the Princess stops her. She says “Wait” Then asks “Why are you going to the capital”? “I’ve never been” The girl shrugs “And I know the King wanted me to be presented at court but my father, defiant as ever never took me”. A look flashes across the Princess’s face and now the girl knows who she reminds her of.

The Lady Lysa Arryn, née Tully. The girl’s aunt from her pass life. The anxiety, the refusal to hear anything negative about her sons, and the certain petulance. It all just screams to her, the Lady Lysa. It makes Sansa wonder if Rhaenyra will try and have her marry Jace. If Daemon wasn’t her father in this life would Rhaenyra have struck her and accuse of her of being intimate with him?

The woman heir cannot help the thoughts that invade her mind. Daemon has told her that his eldest daughter has a thousand eyes. Apparently she can see through lies, deception and anything in between. She’s not his favorite daughter no, but she does hold a place in his heart. For the sake of her husband she’ll try with the girl, that and because she’s a child.

The girl is making it hard for her though. Just like she can see through words, Rhaenyra can see through actions. “Royce’s are an honorable bunch” She recounts “And nearly sixteen years ago they came to Kingslanding to swore fealty to me”. ‘Does she think that I am opposing her with my visit to the capitol’? “Yes, they did” Dove says in a steady and proud voice “Runestone and I, never forget vows ‘We Remember’ we will always remember”. 

The North Remembers 

“Good” The woman whispers, nodding her head “You are excuse now, Dove”. Sansa nods her head in respect and moves towards the door opening it. “Have a safe trip” The Princess tells her as she walks out of the room and closes the door “And don’t you forget” she whispers in a fixing tone. 

•IV•

Aemond sits patiently in one of his mother’s cushioned chairs as the Maester cleans his wound. His mother is standing beside him holding his hand in a firm grip. He knows that this gives her more comfort than him. “It seems that you’re in the clear from infection, young Prince” The old man tells him, with a pleased smile. He hears his mother gasp beside him “Praise The Mother” she whispers happily. “Does this mean I can fly now?” He asks, looking up at his mother.

His mother had thought it best that he stays confined in her chambers, until he’s out of the infection stage of his wound.  That meant no court, no going outside and especially no flying. ‘Birds carry so many diseases’ She told him ‘I will not chance it’. Aemond hears his mother’s breath hitch as she stiffens. “I… I don’t know, you have to ask the Maester” She says, her voice cracking with fear. 

A feeling of guilt washes him at the thought of him frightening his mother. “It’s alright” He rushes out, to save some of her feelings “I can wait a few more days just in case”. His mother gives him a teary eyed look “Are you sure”? He nods “Yes, mother”. He can see the relief flash in her eyes as she smiles softly at him.

She bends down still holding his hand and gives his hairline a kiss. “Thank you, sweet boy” She whispers to him. He nods, giving her hand a squeeze. It does not bother him that he has to wait just a little longer to ride Vhagar. That is because his cousin, Dove, is coming any day now. 

He does not know when but he does know, that he would love nothing more than to take to the skies with her. Unbeknownst to him, his mother knows exactly why he’s fine with not going flying just yet. She’s heard him tell Helaena about his encounter with Prince Daemon’s eldest daughter. Alicent has not met the little girl yet, hasn’t even seen her because she was so preoccupied at Driftmark. Her middle children however have, and they are both so positively taken by her.

They both gushed about the girl and their excitement for her visit. To each other of course keeping it in hush whispers as if it’s some secret. Alicent knows she should be happy as so for her children who seem to not fit in with most people to have found someone who accepts them. Yet,  she can’t help the disdain that grows within her at the thought of that person being the daughter of Daemon Targaryen. Her father had song the high praises of Rhea Royce however, and did not shy from his criticism of the treatment the Prince gave his wife.

She remembers his words when they’ve gotten the word of Lady Rhea’s Pregnancy. How her father cursed out at the thought that the Prince now wants to be in the Vale. ‘The Prince knows no love, he will not be a good father’ He said  in a harsh tone. He didn’t even raise the girl from her understanding. The Prince Daemon was in out of the little girl’s life and after her mother died, he married another woman and started another family.

A forgotten child, she’s sure. At the funeral for his wife the Prince wasn’t even with the children he raised. That’s probably why the girl even approached her children, maybe to have some connection she doesn’t have. That doesn’t matter if it means that the girl stands with her father who sure enough stands with Rhaenyra. As she holds her son close she makes a silent prayer that this is nothing more than an innocent friendship.

•IV•

Kingslanding stinks, and it’s made it’s self very clear that it will always stink. It’s not as bad as when Robert Baratheon was King and especially not when Joff was. As the smell of shit, piss, oil, smoke and much more hit her nose, the view of the worst place on earth hits her eyes. There it is, the Redkeep. The place that took her innocence, chewed her up and spit her out. 

What made her think to come back here? Looking out the window of the wheelhouse she remembers exactly why. Her Targaryen uncle, the King is standing with his Wife Queen Alicent Hightower, to his right and to his left the Hand of the King, Otto Hightower. The King and Queen’s children are at right side of her, Grace. Her wheelhouse comes to a stop, she passes a quick smile to her handmaidens.

“Dove Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone”  A page announces her as the door opens. Sansa grabs the hand of her knight, Rhys Hunter. Rhys, is of house Hunter of Longbow Hall, a noble house of the Vale. He is twenty three years her senior and is said by her cousin Gerold that he and her Royce mother were quite close. She feels like there is an underlying relationship between them, from the way he told her but who knows.

Although she’ll always wonder how he came to be a knight in another noble household. Sansa makes her way over to the royals in front of her. She ignores Lady who flys over them in a gray wind. She drops into a curtsy in front of the King “Your Grace”. The man laughs haggard and jolly “Oh, no need for that niece” then he grabs her arm and pulls her into a hug. 

She goes stiff just for a second before she returns the hug. “Uncle” She greets him with, a practiced yet blinding smile. She pulls away and greets the Queen and Hand then makes her way to the children. “Hello” She greets them. The eldest, Aegon leers at her “Well, aren’t you a sight”. 

Then it’s Helaena, “It’s good to see you again, cousin and so soon”. Sansa gives her a wide genuine smile “Me as well” she gives her arm a gentle squeeze. Then last but certainly not least is Aemond, the little one eyed rogue “Is it me or did Lady get bigger”? She shrugs “She grows everyday my Prince, and it’s nice to see you again”. “For me as well” He mumbles then he bows “Welcome to the Redkeep my Lady”.

•IV•

Queen Alicent Hightower takes a sip of wine as she sits back in a chair at the meal table. She is taking the noon meal with her husband’s niece and her own children. Dove, is telling her children of a dragonfly Prince who fell in love with a flower, or something along those lines. Dove, is a bright child. Pretty as well.

With Ivory skin, dusty rose cheeks, high cheeks bones, freckles along nose and cheeks, and pink bow lips. Two colored eyes, just as it is said her paternal grandmother had. Though what really stands out, is the copper chunk in the front of her silver-snow hair. Her hair that is in braided into a a high tail with a dark velvet red ribbon tied into a bow on the top. The same ribbon that the Queen has seen that gray beast of hers adorn on its neck.

The ribbon also matches the red beaded leaves on her bronze colored dress. The Queen has no doubt that she will be considered an exotic beauty once she grows older. “Are we going to fly after this meal?” Her son, Aemond asks the girl, interrupting her story. The girl gives her son a small smile, “Is it safe for you to”? Her son nods eagerly “The Maester said so”.

Technically speaking the Maester he didn’t. Alicent doesn’t say that though, instead she says “Your cousin just got here. Give her some time to settle in”. Her son wants to object, she can tell. “We have plenty of time to go flying. Don’t worry I’ll pay my debt”. The Queen does not know what debt she is talking about but it is clear that her son does. 

“I would like to go fly with you as well, cousin” Aegon says loudly “I can race my Sunfyre against your Lady”. Aemond internally groans at his brother. Why must he try and interject himself into their plans? His irritation grows when Dove chuckles and suggests they should place bets. Which causes Aegon to eagerly engage further into conversation.

“You can’t come, Aegon” He finds himself saying with a sharp edge to his voice. “And why is that?” His brother asks, his voice filled with humor. Before he can answer, Dove speaks up “Well because I’m teaching Aemond how to be a proper Dragon-rider”. It’s a ridiculous thing to say she knows but it’s clear that Aemond would rather not have Aegon there and the guilt of inviting him becomes present. “But don’t worry cousin, we’ll still race”. 

She casts Aemond a reassuring smile and mouths a “Sorry”. He gives her a little smile in return. He’s glad to have someone that wouldn’t push him to the back in favor of his older brother. As the children start to engage in another conversation, Alicent sits in a quiet disquietude. Aemond has always been a fierce one, especially with his feelings.

She always knew this however to see it be directed towards a girl scares her. She knows that he’ll have to marry someday and that he might even have little likings and flings. She also knows it is no sin for cousins to be engaged with one another, especially not with a family like the Targaryens. Yet, this is too soon and with the wrong girl at that. As the children gush about their beasts the mother makes a silent prayer that her son gets over this little affection for his cousin. 

She prays that once the girl leaves that he’ll forget about her and move on. It will be the best for him. Though if he doesn’t. Well there are plenty of girls from good houses with good families and values. Ones that she’ll happily accept for her son.

•IV•

Sansa walks across the soft grass staring at the heart tree before her with tears in her eyes. It’s not the one at Winterfell but it is something. The people here they don’t appreciate it. They don’t welcome the wonders of this precious tree. She hesitantly puts her hand out to to touch it.

“Do you worship The Old Gods, my Lady” She hears a deep voice ask behind her. She jumps back in a fright at the intruder. Sansa turns around to face the person who is speaking to her. She is met with a man. The man is tall, dressed in blue velvet’s and boiled leather gloves on his hands that rest comfortably on the top of a cane.

The young girl turns her fright right around and smiles sweetly at the man. “Oh, hello” She greets, bowing her head in respect, this man is obviously a Lord “I didn’t hear you come”. The man gives her a grin “No, I’m sure you didn’t my Lady”. Sansa nods her head then she remembers that he asked her a question  “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch what was said”.  The man chuckles, his hands push his cane out further from his body “The Old Gods? Do you worship them”.

The girl flushes underneath the unwanted gaze of the man, as well as the question. “Yes” She answers, The Old Gods have answered her prayers on more than one occasion. Why wouldn’t she keep to them? “Hmm” The man hums. “What Gods do you worship?” The girl asks “Is it the Old Gods too or—“

 “I was never the type to cling to Gods” The man answer’s coolly “I see no reason to”. It’s not the answer that scares her, it’s his demeanor. It’s so familiar yet foreign. “Some people need something to believe in” She says, in an almost defensive tone. He gives her an odd expression before speaking again “A fool’s gamble”.

“Isn’t everything?” She asks before she can stop herself. The man’s face drops in surprise for a second then he smiles,  a wide almost sinister smile. “But to blindly put your faith in something that you may not know to be real is such a cruel thing” He voices “Don’t you think so as well my Lady”? She shrugs her shoulders “The world is already a cruel place. Reality can bring out the worst demons out of people”. 

“Yet, to deny reality will not bring out the good in them” He adds, “So why choose to punish yourself”. The question is rhetorical she can tell, yet she finds herself wanting to answer. The man steps a little closer with a limp and drag. It’s not like she takes notice, all she is staring at is his eyes. There’s something familiar there too, it draws her in.

“Maybe there is a redemption found there” She whispers “In suffering”. He chuckles as if he has found a joke deep in her words. “I suppose you are right my Lady” He gives her one last look before he turns around and limps away. That’s when she catches a glimpse of the reason for his cane. The twisted foot wrapping in a metal contraption.

“Larys Strong” She whispers, staring at his foot. Larys Strong, the one person that no one knows where is loyalty lied. The man stops in his tracks turning to face her. There is no fear on her face or disgust just curiosity. Oh, she is exactly what he expected her to be. He knew from the moment he land eyes on her at Driftmark.

The way she looked onto the scene before her. The wheels that turned in her head were so apparent to him. “Seems as if I am a wonder to someone” He muses “Funny… so many, are frighten at the sight of it”. He taps his cane against the metal clad foot. That’s when the side of his cane catches her attention. 

Is that a bee? She squints her eyes at the jewel. It’s a firefly. “Pretty?” He turns his cane to the side to let the sun hit the jewel. It shines like a dull glass amber under the rays of the sun. 

“They’re quite the beauty in the flesh” He goes on “A rare sighting as well”. He moves his hand to glide a finger on his jewel. Sansa steps back from the man, the severity of who this man is sets in. The man smiles his sinister smile “Frightened”. The girl shakes her head “Just cautious”. 

He nods his head, his smile never faltering. The girl curtsy’s “It was pleasure to meet you, Lord Larys” she lies. The man slowly blinks “As it was for me, my Lady”. He gives her one last look, before turning around and hobbling away. The girl takes a deep breath to calm the nerves. This place is another world, as well as it is the same. 

The sound of rustling catches Sansa’s attention. The cold wind wraps a blanket around her body as she turns to face the heart tree. The flapping of wings fills her ears as, one, two, three, and four birds land on top of the tree. Crows, dark as night staring down at her with piercing gazes. Sansa walks closer towards the tree, still looking at the birds.

Her beats like drum as she gets closer to the tree. The birds start to squawk loud and piercing her ears. Yet, she’s sure she can hear voices amongst the shrills. A moment later they stop and she’s got the message loud and clear. Dark wings, Dark words.

> And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I'm one

Notes:

Crows- Crow symbolism is both positive and negative, and they're seen as both good and bad omens, such as death, the afterlife, wisdom, intelligence, adaptability, prescience, fortune, destiny, transformation, and the future.

Fun fact- A flock of crows is called a murder

Chapter 5: FROST V

Summary:

In 120 AC. The Lady of Runestone visits an orphanage. The same year the one eyed Prince gets a new eye.

Notes:

When you were here before
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel - Creep: Radiohead

The Queen, Alicent Hightower walks into her father’s chambers with a fast pace. “The Queen, Lord Hand” A page announces her, before bowing and leaving them both alone. “Your Grace” Her father, Lord Otto greets looking up from his letters. Alicent closes the door behind her then walks closer to her father’s desk. “The Lady Dove, is at an orphanage right now” She tells her father, his eyebrow raises.

“An orphanage?” He asks, confusion clear on his face. “Yes” She answers in a rushed manner. She begins to pace back and forth in a line. This girl has been in the capitol for a week and she is already favored by the court and people. She may even become a new Realms Delight. 

“What would she be doing at an orphanage?” Her father asks, his face turning in deep thought. The Queen shrugs “I was hoping… that one of your many eyes can help me find that out”. He nods “Is this the Queen’s demand”? 
“This is just a favor for your daughter” She says “She is kin of Daemon”. The Hand nod once more “Yes, she is. However she has none of his temperament and more importantly holds the value of the honorable Royce’s”. 

That placates her, just a little though. There is this gnawing feeling that is telling her that the girl is sent here by her father. After all the only reason she is even Queen is because of her own father. “There is no need to worry your Grace” The father assures her “Besides she is no more than a child”. “As was Rhaenyra” She snaps out “But that didn’t stop us from seeing that threat”.

The father nods taking in his daughter’s words. “You are right” He says “However, Rhaenyra was put into a position that a woman should not hold. Especially when there is a better option”. Alicent sighs, she slow blinks at his words “I am not saying that she poses the same threat as Rhaenyra. I’m saying that the girl a threat because of her close proximity to Rhaenyra… and her own father, Daemon”. 

The father nods once more “I can see what you mean. But the girl lives in the Vale, on Runestone. Far from the influence on Dragonstone”. The Queen doesn’t say anything else just thinks on her fathers words. Perhaps he is right. Maybe she is being paranoid because she feels as if Aemond is pulling away. Which he is and for a girl he had just met. 

Thick as thieves, those two. It’s only been a week and they are stuck to each other’s sides. With the exception being Helaena. The Queen lets out a sigh, the feeling of melancholia washing over her. “As you say, father”.

•V•

“And that is the story of the Lord Snow and Ghost, his direwolf” Sansa finishes  story with a smile. The children look back at her with wonder in their eyes. They are of the same age as her half twin sister’s. She is in an orphanage in the worst part of the capitol. Flee bottom.

Escorted by her knights and just two handmaidens. The people were quite weary of her presence, especially with the armed guards. However after a few smiles and the help of Ser Hunter they convinced the Septa to let her in. Now she is on one of the beds, stitching up their torn clothes and telling them stories of one of the many brave men she once knew.  She also instructed for her sworn sword Ser Hunter, who advised against this place to be of service.

Now he is fidgeting with a toy knight while also being over hyper with the prospect of an enemy. “Why did Lord Crow help the Wildlin’ girl?” One little boy ask her. “Wildlin’s are bad men, right?” A little adds. Sansa gives them a small smile, leaning in slightly “Just because someone is different doesn’t mean they’re bad. Now doing bad things, such  as hurting others does”. The children gave her little nods but she doubts that her words stuck.

 “I wan’ more stories of Ghost the direwolf” One child demands “He’s ma, favorite”. She chuckles, nodding her head “Ghost is amazing but do you know that he has siblings”? The children’s eyes grow wider with curiosity as they begin to overlap each other’s voices for answers. “Settle down, now” The Septa commands with a rough voice “Or you won’t get your story”. The little Lady, holds her hand up with a smile, letting the Septa know that it’s all right.

“Yes, there are more direwolves” She giggles, nodding “There are six in total”. The children start to go on excitingly about the wolves. They ask about their names and what they look like and more.

“First is Greywind, although no one is sure who is older between him and Ghost. His coat is a Smokey gray and his eyes are a bright yellow. Grey wind followed his master that they called the Young Wolf into battle. It is said that they won every battle that they fought in and that the Young Wolf, rode into them on the back of Greywind”.

“After Greywind, is Lady. She’s the smallest of the litter, the gentlest too. Her coat is gray as well but her eyes were a golden yellow. She wore ribbons like her master the Little Bird and she like to have her ears scratched. She is sweet and good and hard to forget”.

“Next is Nymeria. She was named after the warrior Princess. She has the same fur as her sister but her eyes are a dark golden. She was just as wild as her master, the little warrior Princess just like the direwolfs name sake. After a certain incident, the wild wolf fled to be free and run wild with a pack. Yet her master and her have never actually parted from one another, even when they were apart”.

“Then we have, Summer. His master is the three-eyed Raven. His coat is silvery-grey and his eyes yellow. Summer is very protective of his master and even fought an assassin who wanted to harm his Raven. The two even set off on an adventure to go beyond the wall”.

“The Last of the litter, is Shaggydog. His coat is black as night and his eyes are a shining green. He is the most wild of them all, as his master is the Wildling Wolf. Shaggydog accompanied the three-eyed Raven and his wolf on their journey to the other side. However the three-eyed Raven sent them both to go on an island that is said to have unicorns and other things”.

Sansa doesn’t give them all of the details in the story. It’s best to keep it to herself and give them little summaries. The children go back and forth on who is their favorite wolf. They also try to press her for more on the master’s of the wolves. No doubt with the information she gave them on Jon they would want to know more. 

She can feel Ser Rhys’ eyes on her no doubt he has made some connections between her and her story. She doesn’t pay him much mind though as she continues to stitch a little girl’s dress. Back in her old life she had seen The Lady Margaery Tyrell go to orphanages. She’s also heard Cersei Lannister’s rants about it as well.

She’s seen the way the people praise the Lady Margaery. She also knows that her Targaryen father is called the Prince of the city. The love of the people can serve as protection just as much as armor. However, Sansa’s not going to be like Lady Margaery, who pretended to be her friend then dropped her when she no longer served a purpose. She’s not going to to just use people and give them nothing.

She was an orphan before. There was a time she didn’t have a family or friends or a home to go to. Just like these children and she would gladly give them some solace that wasn’t given to her. 

•V•

The wind hits Aemond’s face with a force as he races his cousin. Dove is quite elegant on top of gray mount. The girl and her dragon ride with a certain precision. He has no idea why his cousin is so on top of her dragon. Flying is supposed to be freeing with no worries but the sky.

Dove believes that you should have structure. She says being too reckless can lead to bad behavior with your dragon. Aemond doesn’t know how true that can be but he will take her word for it. The boy tries to cut his cousin off from trying to get to their finish line. She must have known what he’s trying to do because she shouts something in a strange language and Lady immediately shoots up high in the sky.

She passes the clouds making the boy lose sight of her. Aemond shouts in High Valaryian for Vhagar to follow. Vhagar makes her way up further into the sky passing the clouds. His cousin however, is no where to be found as he rushes up further. A moment passes before the sound of a loud roar catches his attention.

He looks up to see his cousin just a few feet above him. Vhagar makes a sound below him and he pets her. Dove and Lady drive down in a fast speed bringing a wave of wind onto them. They ride past them and descend down. Dove her head turns around to face him a cocky smile on lips and waves to him before she disappears under the clouds.

When he and Vhagar make it down to the hill they’re supposed to meet at Dove is already there. She’s not on the saddle anymore instead she’s leaning against Lady and speaking silently. Aemond lands Vhagar on the hill, not as smoothly as he wants to but it’s better than the first time. “Took you long enough” His cousin says, pushing herself off of her dragon. The boy scoffs and jumps down from his own. 

“Only because you cheated” He says, shaking his head. “Oh, really?” A small grin makes its way on her lips “How did I do that”? She didn’t, it’s more on him than her. It’s really not her fault that she is so distracting. “Can’t answer?” She jokes “That’s because I won fair and square”. 

He chuckles and nods “That, you did”. Dove grabs his hand and begins to lead him down the hill. They’re going to leave their dragons on this hill like they have for the past weak. Vhagar is too large for the dragon-pit and Dove has a distain for it. He, like his mother and grandfather had asked her why, to which she replied ‘I am not isolated so why should Lady be’?

Later she had told him that Lady was once chained and confined before and it didn’t end well. Now she will always make sure that she is free just in case Lady has to get away. He had pressed for more information, like why was Lady chained and confined, what happened to lead to that and what happened after.  His cousin never told him though and he has a feeling she never will.

Whatever happened still haunts Dove he can tell. Sometimes she can space out, as if she’s not in her own body. One time, just a few days ago he swore he saw her eyes go white. White as milk with no blue or purple. It left goose pimples and a cold sweat on his skin.

Yet, Aemond never said anything about it to anyone. Especially not his mother or grandfather who may not believe or worse they do and then name her as a witch or demon. He does not think she is a demon or witch but there was something quite off with the scene. He finds himself thinking about more often than not.

“Is something wrong?” His cousin asks him, taking him from his mind. He looks towards her giving her a small smile “Not at all”. “Oh, you seem to be so faraway” She says. ‘As do you’ He thinks. “I am no where but here” He tells her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

Thinking of eyes brought his mind back to what he originally wanted to show her before she dragged him to fly. He stops in his tracks, making her stop as well. “Cousin?” She asks, her face turning in confusion “What are you doing”? He feels his nerves rising as he finds a way to tell her this. What if she doesn’t like it and wants no type of association between them two?

“The… Maester has informed me that having a hole in my face is dangerous” He begins, her brows furrow further “And has advised me to replace my eye. So I picked what I wanted to replace it with”. He then grabs at the strap of his eyepatch taking it off. “A sapphire” He says, showing her the blue gemstone that is set to replace his eye “Now I am like you”. 

Sansa gasps as she looks at the bright gem in her Targ-tower cousin’s eye. “Do you like it?” Aemond asks nervously, when she doesn’t immediately say something. She lets out a squeal and flings herself onto him. He goes rigid at her sudden rush towards him. After a few moments her wraps his arms around her and hugs her back. Relief washing over him at the fact that she welcomes this.

Sansa hugs Aemond closer to her when he welcomes her embrace. She does not know the original reason on why he picked a sapphire for his eye but this version is so much better. However fear begins to cloud her judgement, yes he is a sweet boy now but he may still be a kinslayer. What if she can’t stop him from becoming one just like she couldn’t stop him from claiming Vhagar therefore losing his eye. She pulls back from him slightly placing a kiss on his scarred cheek.

The boy can feel the blush that starts to paint his face. She pulls back completely giving him a small smile before to be at his side once more. He is about to put his eyepatch back on when his cousin places her hand on his to stop him. “Wait” She says “I’m enjoying this moment”. So he doesn’t put it back on for he is enjoying the moment as well. 

•V•

The castle is quiet tonight. Save for the few servants, squires and handmaidens it’s deserted as well. It makes it easy for him to run around undetected in these halls. No one to frighten nor disturb. He’s made his way down these hall before.

He’s walked, ran and scattered about them. He has seen it all behind these eyes. He’s seen countless fights, arguments, people making love, women birthing babes and so much more. Nothing is hidden away from these eyes. These eyes that serve him better than his own.

He trails up the stairs of the keep. Turning from one corner to another. Pitter patting on the feet of a creature to go see another. This creature is a lovely little thing. He’s watched her over and over but only in the eyes of his person. 

Never in these ones. 

He’s sure she’ll be a wonder in these eyes. The girl sees what he sees. He is so sure of it. He races along the walls, on these feet that are not his own. He always knew that there were others like him. He just never met them before.

No matter how many times he’s jumped from eye to eye, mind to mind, he can never find them. Not until he went to the den of the Sea Snake. He went on the count of a funeral but what he discovered was so much more important. One just like him.

A little slip of a girl but still just like him. 

He made it to the room he was racing towards. Beyond the door is his future. He slips under the crack that is parted between door and floor. He looks around the room. The chambers are dimly lit and the smell of her is potent than ever. 

He does towards the large fireplace on the room that is giving the room light and warmth. He crawls along side the thick boarders and up on the shelf. There she is, his little bird. He goes closer to the edge and peers down at her. She doesn’t see him though.

In fact she can’t see much in this room for her eyes are elsewhere. She is lying on her back on the floor wrapped in furs. Her hair sprawled out around her, above her head. Though it is her eyes that catches his attention. Her once dual colored irises now a wide bowl of milk. 

That is all he needed to see. He released his companion to go off on their own accord. In when Larys sees with eyes of his own, in the body of his own, he looks down at his jeweled firefly. A smile cutting his face in half as he stares at it. “I knew it”. 

> Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so fuckin' special
I wish I was special

Notes:

A/N: I’ve seen some theories on that the rat that they show multiple times on HOTD is Larys Strong warging. And I’m like that’s cool let me add it to my story.

Also I know these chapters are short, and I am sorry about that. However everything in them is important to the story there are no throwaway lines or scenes.

Symbolism- Rats - Timidness, Bad health, meanness, death and darkness

Fireflies- Hope, a light in the darkness.

Side note- Larys has a firefly in his cane in the show and pairing that with the theory of him being inside the rats is comical. The irony behind Larys using rats to spy on other while sporting a firefly on his person is just incredible.

Chapter 6: FROST VI

Summary:

In 120 A.C The Lady of Runestone’s visit to the capital comes to its end.

Notes:

I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
And I fear no evil because I'm blind to it all- Through the valley: Shawn James

The court is as lively as it was in her time, today. Sansa is up in the gallery watching the proceedings below. The King, her uncle is sitting the throne today. An auspicious sight, to see the King in a good enough health to sit that ugly chair. What is going on? 

She hardly knows. It’s hard to stay focused when so many eyes are upon you. The Queen, her father: The lord hand, The Lord Strong, and The master of coin: The Lord Tyland Lannister. All those who are published to be for the ‘Green Party’. She tries not to pay them much mind. She knows why she is in their sight line. 

Everyone wants something and for someone to be for them and their ambitions. She’s spent a good deal of her childhood in this city, in this court. She also likes to think that she that she has faced the worst of them. These people can’t be so bad now can they? Seeing as each of them are dead because of that disaster, stupid war. 

So what harm can they possibly do to her, that wasn’t already done before? 
She sighs, and focuses her attention onto her uncle. A squire or page, she’s not so sure, is leaned into him as he whispers and their ear. The dark haired boy in red then looks around the room before his eyes land on her and begins to walk. It takes a moment before the boy is up on the gallery and walking towards her. 

He bows his greeting then speaks “The King has requested for you to meet him in his chambers after court, my Lady”. She smiles giving him a nod “Thank you”. Then he bows again and goes about his day. So she did as she was told. After court she went to her Targaryen uncle’s bedchambers. She’s announced my the same page as before when she enters. “Your Grace” She greets, curtsying.
 
“Oh there’s no need for that, my dear” He says in an airy tone “We’re family”. 
She nods walking in further “You wanted to see me”? The sick man nods as he coughs into a handkerchief. “Yes, yes… come, come” He gestures with his good hand for her to come further. She walks closer to the King, who is lounging in a chair next to a clay city. 

She couldn’t stop herself from stopping at the table and admiring what has been built. The details in the buildings of the clay are realistic. She stares in awe of it. “Pretty?” The King asks her, leaning in with a slanted smile. She looks back at her Targaryen uncle and nods. “It is quite a work of art” She compliments “Did you do this, your Grace”?

The King nods with a prideful look in his eyes. “Yes, my dear” He answers, leaning back in his chair “with some help of course”. The niece nods and turns her head back to the sculpture. After a moment of silence, the uncle asks “Do you know what this is”? She shakes her head “It’s Old Valaryia”. 

The pride and sense of longing in his voice sends a pang in her heart. Although he was born here in this country, he still feels a sense of homesickness for the ruin that is now Valaryia. It is something she, herself is experiencing with Winterfell and time. “I’m sorry, your Grace, I’ve never seen pictures” She confesses “I have nothing in my memory to go off of”. The sick man shakes his head “Do not ‘your Grace’ me girl, I am your uncle” He corrects her “And no worries dear, this is exactly what Valaryia looked like”. 

The girl nods and decides to go around the table to get a better look of all of it. As she steps off to the side a glint of gold catches her eyes. She turns her head to get a better look at what ever it is. It’s a point, almost making a tail, but not only that it’s attached to something. A dark shiny, hilt. 

It’s a dagger. She walks closer to her Targaryen uncle, who has it on his person. Invading his personal space, she leans in closer then lets out a gasp. She’s seen that dagger. That is the dagger that her brother Bran had secured. The one that cut open her mother’s hands when an assassin came to kill Bran. 

When she returned to Winterfell with Bran reigning over the keep as Lord, her brother was a different man. It took them both sometime to talk about what happened to them. They did eventually and did they have quite the story. “Catspaw” She whispers as she continues to look at the dagger. “What”? 

‘Oh crap’ She completely forgot that she wasn’t alone. How can she be so unaware? The blade is attached to another person’s strap on their body. “Nothing” She dismisses in a quick tone. She tries to turn around but the King’s hand wrapped around her wrist fast. 

“That was not nothing” He presses, his glassy amethyst eyes darting wildly over her face “You said ‘Catspaw’. Tell me… what it is”? It’s too late to tell him that he’s delirious. She takes a deep breath and straightens her back. “It’s the dagger” She answers calmly, trying hard not to betray her nervousness. Her Targaryen uncle nods, a confused expression coming on his face. 

“Is that a name that you decided?” His voice comical, though there is slight condescending undertone. Sansa shakes her head “No uncle. It… it’s the name the boy in my dream called it by”. A bushy white eyebrow is raised “Boy”? She nods “Aye, a boy… I do not know his name but he has… had that dragonbone dagger”. The sick man is quiet for a moment before he pulls out his dagger and stares at it. 

“It does not look, like a Catspaw” He notes twisting and turning the weapon in his hand “More like a Dragonstail”. There is pregnant pause. The uncle has a slanted smile on his face. Sansa finally catches onto the fact that, that was a joke let’s out a light chuckle. “Yes, I suppose it is” She agrees looking down at the weapon. 

The uncle told his glassy eyes “Oh, don’t you did not find that funny”. She tries to smooth over any wounded feelings but he makes it clear that it’s fine. “I am an old man” He says after some time “A sick old man at that. Although I would say I’m livelier than ever”. His smile filled with gray soft ridden teeth. 

“Ah, I uh… am feeling tired more of late… I actually called you here because I have heard that you’ve got such a lovely voice” He confesses, then coughs into his handkerchief “Would you mind, singing a tune to your dear old uncle for him to sleep”? 

The niece nods giving her Targaryen uncle a small smile “What would you like to hear”? The uncle shrugs “What ever you would like to sing”. He gets up from his chair, knees popping at the movement. The girl stands behind him giving him a gentle hand to keep going. They make it over to his bed where the niece helps the sick man into his bed.

She fixes his duvet as he lays down with a grunt. She tucks him and fixes his pillows. “I had Samwell bring a harp” He tells her “He’s a singer as well. A very good one”. That makes her smile. The Samwell she knew, her half brother Jon’s friend from the house Tarly was not a very good singer. 

The King points to the instrument that’s behind her. The girl turns her head and spots a wooden bronze harp on the floor. “I had it made for you when I have gotten word you were to visit” He says with a grin. It’s a beautiful and sweet gift. She just wishes he could be this thoughtful with his own children.

Sansa makes her way over the harp and sit on the chair that is placed in front. She runs her fingers along the string touching the metal strings. She then plucks at them to tune the instrument. “She had fled with her ships and her people” She began to sing “her heart brok—“. “Oh, not that” The King interrupts waving his hand “Please, I’ve heard that song more times than I’ve heard my own name”. 

“You said I can sing what ever pleased” She points out. “Ah, well you can, just not that” He says in an annoyed tone. She nods putting on a small smile “What do you want to hear”? “A song I never heard before” He tells her “I imagine you know some or you may make one up”. She nods, then clears her throat and sits up straighter.

I walk through the valley and the shadow of death and I fear no evil because I’m blind to it all and my mind and my sword they comfort me, cause I know I’ll kill my enemies when they come, surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell on this earth forever more and I walk this side that still waters in they restore my soul and I can’t walk on the path of right because I’m wrong

At the end of the song she turns her head to her Targaryen uncle, who’s asleep. “That’s quite the song” The soft voice makes her jump, startled. She turns her head to see the Queen standing by the sculptor. “Your Grace” Her voice, sounds out of breath but her curtsy is perfect as it always been. The Queen looks over at her sleeping husband then back at the girl.

“Let’s go outside” She says to her in the same soft voice. The girl nods and follows the older woman out of the room. Once out of the room the Queen looks down at the girl “My Lady, would you care to join me in my private chambers”? A look of fright flashes in the girl’s eyes “Alone”? It’s as if she has stabbed Alicent in the heart. 

“Yes, my Lady” The woman says, with a small smile “I have lemon cakes. I have found out that those are your favorite”. The girl smiles and nods “Lead the way, your Grace”. ‘Why was she frightened to be alone with me?’ The woman thinks ‘Perhaps she’s seen me attack Rhaenyra and that’s why”. It makes sense, she’s young and doesn’t know much about what really happened between the Princess and herself. Alicent can only imagine the horrid tales that her father and stepmother has spun about her.

They walk to the Queen’s chambers in silence. One that is surprisingly not uncomfortable. When they enter Alicent puts a hand on the small of Dove’s back and guides her to the dining table. On it is tea, a platter of cheeses and the promised lemon cakes. The sit down at the table and the girl waits patiently for the Queen’s permission.

Alicent Hightower is a beautiful woman. Her eyes are big pools of hazel colored honey with specks of green dancing in them. Her hair is a cascade of mahogany-copper curls. Her light olive toned skin is without blemishes. She is what you picture the women of songs to look like.

However her lips are in a permanent pout. There is a forlornness that surrounds her. The green is quite of putting as well but that could just be that it was Cersei Lannister’s favorite color to wear. The room is green as well, from top to bottom. Seven hells, no wonder why she came to despise the color. 

“You may eat” The Queen tells her, grabbing a piece of smoked cheese and popping in her mouth. Sansa grabs her cup of tea and inspects it. In her time, when she was a hostage in this castle she barely ate. In fear that she’ll be poisoned by one of the spies posing as handmaidens. “So, the song” The Queen begins “I’ve never heard it before”.

The girl nods “Yes, I heard a girl in the free cities sing it”. She’s lying, Arya heard it in Braavos and it snuck into her brain where she sung it a lot. “An odd song choice to sing to your uncle for his sleep” The woman notes under her breath but still loud for Sansa to pick up. “He wanted to hear something he never had before” She explains shrugging. Her words linger for a moment before the Queen nods “Well, you have a lovely voice”.

“Thank you, your Grace” She smiles softly and puts her tea down. Another moment of silence settles in the room. “You were at an orphanage not too long ago” The Queen grabs her own tea “Why”? She takes a sip and sets it down looking the girl in the eye. “I have no mother of my own” The girl says, her voice tightening with every word “I hold a lot of sympathy for those with no family to turn to”. 

“Family is important to you”?

“There the only ones that are truly there for you” She answers in a sullen tone. “You don’t have any friends?” Her question has so much surprise in it. The girl nods “It is quite hard to make friends in a world where everyone is out for themselves”. Her words bitter and heart-wrenching. If that is not the truth.

I find… I have few friends lately

The words just slipped out she didn’t mean to say them. She looks up at the Queen and all she sees is understanding. Sansa wants to put her hand on hers and tell her that she knows how draining this place can be. How it can take the soul out of you and just leave you with skin and bone. She doesn’t though because having something that you can both relate to doesn’t equate to being friends.

No one will ever truly care for someone else. And the ones that did are dead. The Queen looks at the girl in front of her. She swears that she sees an abused and taken advantage of girl. Maybe it’s just her. 

She’s not sure but her heart breaks because she knows that it can very well be Dove later if not now or before.

•VI•

“Do you have to leave?” Aemond asks Sansa as they pack up her things. She is going back to Dragonstone today. She has spent a fortnight here in the capital. As much as she liked it here this time around she is ready to leave as soon as possible. Even if the place she’ll be fleeing to is Dragonstone.

She turns to him with a fake pout. “I am afraid I have to” She whines “I don’t know how I will survive without you”. The boy rolls his eye at her “You’re so annoying. Do not mock me”. She giggles “You know I will write you Aems, and I will miss you terribly”. She will, he’s sure of it. 

Helaena gets up from her spot on the chair. She was finish the wings on the dragonfly that she embroidered for Dove. “As I will miss you terribly as well cousin” She says walking towards the pair “Here, I made you this”. She hands the embroidery to her cousin who takes it with a bright smile. “Oh, thank you” Her cousin gushes “Laney this is perfect”. 

“Thank you” The older girl smiles proudly. Aemond mentally kicks himself, he didn’t get her anything. As if sensing his panic his cousin absentmindedly puts a hand on his shoulder while still looking at the gift. She rubs his shoulder as she looks at the detail in the art. Then she stops and tenses up.

Sansa is staring at her Targ-tower cousin’s gift. The detail is quite impeccable, especially for someone who has just learned. Though, there is something odd about it. The dragonfly is surrounded by yellow. When she looked harder she realized that the dragonfly was in something.

Her heart stops when she sees what has trapped the insect. A firefly. The dragonfly is inside the firefly. “Helaena” She calls out getting the older girl’s attention “What is this”? Helaena looks at her art then back at her cousin with a smile “Beautiful isn’t it? It’s like it’s protecting it from darkness”. 

Helaena honestly doesn’t know why she made this. She had it in her mind to make a dragonfly like the ones on her cousin’s dress. Next thing she knows she’s making a firefly as well. “Yes, it is beautiful” Sansa says with a fake smile “I love it truly”. The older girl gives her a big smile and a tight hug. 

“What’s wrong?” Aemond asks after his sister goes back to her seat. The younger girl shakes her head “Nothing”. It’s another lie. One that he knows but says nothing and nods. “I’m just not a fan of fireflies” She adds putting the gift in her trunk.

“I’m sure it will bring luck,” he says trying to brighten her mood “like it’s protecting”. What a beautiful thought. Yet, she believes she knows better now. Wether she is trapped or being protected it’s still a scary situation. What will she be protected from?

The war, that is clearly brewing. The fact that the Greens are indeed plotting at first chance to put Aegon on the throne. A boy who is arrogant, a drunkard and a molester. Sansa had her time with vicious idiots and their self serving grandfathers. Then there’s the blacks.

What is she supposed to make of them? She grabs Aemond’s hand and rubs it for comfort. “I’m sure it will as well”.

•VI•

“How did you like the capital?” Jace asks Sansa as he enters her bedchambers. She shrugs looking back at him “It’s a city”. He frowns as he plops down on her bed “What is that supposed to mean”? “Meaning it’s different than the Vale or even Pentos” She tells him, turning back to her trunk. “Oh, I guess I know what you mean. Dragonstone is far different from the Redkeep and Kingslanding”.

She nods taking out her dresses from the trunk. “How is Aemond?” The question is timid and unsure. She looks to her false Velaryon cousin. He avoids her gaze looking down at his fingers. “What do you mean? Like his eye or—“. 

“Of course his eye” The dark haired boy snarks “is… is he upset”? Sansa can’t help the look that comes on her face. “What do you think”? “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant does he hold a grudge”?

 “His eye was taken of course he hold a grudge” She tells him “But if you’re asking if he said anything about you, not if I know. You were never mentioned when I was around him”. 

Jace nods his head turning away from her to stare blank ahead. Aemond truly never mentioned anything about Rhaenyra’s sons or about their shared childhood. It makes her wonder if they ever had any connection or was there always bad blood. “How did Lady fare?” He asks after a moment. The girl shrugs her shoulders “She was pretty normal to me”.

“Did she like the dragon pit?” He asks her making her tense. She sighs, shaking her head “You know I don’t put her in a dragon pit”. His face scrunches up in confusion “Why is that”? She tenses up some more and looks back at her clothes “Because I don’t want her too”. “But why?” He presses “She would be with the other dragons and—“.

“Because I don’t want to” She bites out, cutting him off. He blinks at her a couple of times. “I’m sorry it’s none of my business” He says in a small voice. “No it’s not”. The sound of a loud demanding knock draws the children’s attention to the door. Standing there is the Rogue Prince. 

He looks so regal in his black and red velvets. “Sorry Jace, but I need to borrow my daughter for a moment”. He says only looking at her. The daughter rolls her eyes and goes back to her organizing “Can it wait? I just got back”. The father rolls his own “No… you may not. Besides it’s the Princess’s orders”. 

Sansa puts her clothes down and pats Jace on the shoulder. “We’ll speak later” She tells him then she crosses the room and walks past her Targaryen father. Not waiting for the young Prince’s answer or the older one’s remark. “Where am I headed?” She asks him when she senses he’s behind her. “Oh, I thought you were leading the way?” He replies sarcastically before passing up by her “This way”.

“Maybe kinslaying isn’t such a bad” She thinks, out loud, under her breath. She smirks to herself when she knows that he rolled his eyes. When they reach the door she stops him from entering by grabbing his wrist. “What does she want with me”? Her father shrugs “We’ll be finding out soon”. Then he opens the door to the solar she met the Princess in previously. 

The Princess Rhaenyra is sitting down in the same exact chair as before, playing with one of her rings. The sound of the door catches her attention as well as the sight of her husband and stepdaughter. “Ah, Dove” She says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Your Highness” The girl greets curtsying. “Thank you, Daemon. That’ll be all” She says looking at him.

He scoffs, she didn’t think he would leave her alone to discuss his daughter’s time in Kingslanding , did she? “I think I’m good right here” He says closing the door behind him and standing by it. He sees from his peripheral, his daughter rolling her eyes. She does that any more and they’re guaranteed to fall right out. His wife stiffens a little but doesn’t say anything to him.

“So Dove, how was the capital?” The woman asks her. Sansa honestly doesn’t know if she should just rip the stitches out and tell her the truth or to tiptoe around it. She chooses the latter. “It smells like shit” She says coolly making the adults laugh. “Yes it does” Her Targaryen father agrees. 

“Well the slums are called flee bottom for a reason” The woman nods, looking at the back of her hand. She then looks up at the girl a hard look on her pretty, smooth face.  “I however am more interested in the Redkeep” She says, curiosity with an undertone of hostility thick in her voice. “Your father is getting weaker” The girl tells her in a sadden tone. 

The woman heir straightens her back and looks to the other side of the room. “Yes well, my father has been slipping on that road for some time now” Her voice equals the girl’s. She then looks back the girl narrowing her eyes “But I already know that. What don’t I know? I would like to hear that”. The girl shrugs “I don’t know your Highness, what don’t you know”? The woman breathes in heavily in frustration.

“Are members of the court plotting against me?” She asks plainly, perhaps did should of this whole time. Sansa sees no reason to lie to her and nods. “Yes, your Highness” The girl says with the same tone. Rhaenyra breathes in heavily again. She knew it, she knew it.

“I’m sorry, your Highness if I may ask why are you surprised?” The question catches her off guard. “B..because… I..” She stutters at first trying to find the words “They all bend the knee and name me their rightful heir and future ruler”. The girl gives her a look as if she is a naive, green child. “Words, especially those spoken by men are fickle” She says, her voice straining “And if not then just bold face lies”. Dove gives a small sorrowful smile as if she had experienced this before.

He promised to be merciful than he cut my father’s head off, said that was mercy

What does she know of lies? She is but a child who’s lived a relatively sheltered life. Though Daemon said she had a thousand eyes. Rhaenyra’s eyes flicker over to her husband whose eyes are on his daughter. “So the cunts are plotting against her?” He asks rhetorically, however, then his eyes meet her. 

‘I told you so’ they say. “Of course they’re plotting against her and it’s not like they’re hiding it” The girl says, matter-of-factly. It makes the woman heir chuckle. She knew that the Greens were a threat. She even told Daemon she could not face them alone. 

“But they swore to me” Her voice sounds so small, so childish. She hates it. She is to be a Queen she should not be batted down so easily. “Did they? No offense your Highness, but what did you think that Green dress meant? Or the cut on your arm or the talk around your children’s legitimacy?” The girl asks. The woman heir says nothing as tears begin to gather in her eyes.

Sansa cannot help but feel bad for the woman in front of her. It’s coming clear to her how undeniably unprepared she is. To be honest she’s not even sure if she can or even wants to help her. It makes her want to curse Bran. Why would he send her to this time? 

Sansa knows she does not hold all the world’s knowledge. These people however are so incompetent. It’s clear that Alicent and Otto want, Aegon to be King but they’re doing nothing to prepare him for it. Rhaenyra actually wants the throne and has potential to be a good ruler but she doesn’t utilize her position and the power she has to make it so at all. She looks towards Daemon then Rhaenyra and it becomes  clear that she is going to die once again. 

>and I walk beside the still waters and they restore my soul
But I know when I die my soul is damned  

Notes:

When the frost clears the smell of smoke appears.

We are done with the year 120 A.C.

Also I am not feeling the song scene but hey I already wrote it so.

Chapter 7: SMOKE I

Summary:

In the year 124 A.C. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen visits the Vale.

Notes:

sad of eye
But very wise was he
And then one day
One magic day he passed my way
And while we spoken of many things- Nature Boy: Aurora

The wind roars outside loud and demanding hitting against the windows of the keep. The Princess Rhaenyra sits in a chair below the high weirwood chair in the great hall of the Eyrie. She watches as the Lady Jeyne conducts her court. Per Dove’s idea, Rhaenyra is to  help the people of the Eyrie with whatever problems they’re dealing with. “Watching one’s move is a great way to study, but to be involved in the moment is the best teaching experience” She had said. 

The Lady Jeyne was hesitant at first given the fact that she is an outsider. Just because Arryn blood runs through her veins doesn’t mean she has the means to run the Vale. She’s not a Valeman. Yet, after some persuading from her stepdaughter, she was in. What followed were the busiest days of Rhaenyra’s life.

Her days consisted of foreseeing castle preparations, listening to vassals, marriage contracts, and much more. Sometimes Jeyne will have her step in and take the reigns. Her work didn’t stop there. Dove had her go to orphanages in the Vale and help out there. “It’s more than your image” She told her “You do need to care for these children because they’re your people and the future of the realm as well”. 

She found herself actually looking forward to seeing the children. Telling them exaggerated tales of her childhood, even more. She was skeptical about taking advice from a child at first. Even outright denied doing any of her suggestions. She doesn’t even know how she came around to them, she just did.

“That will be all for today” Lady Jeyne tells the audience before her. The dark haired woman looks to her and nods before standing up. They walk down the steps together. “What did you think of that?” The Lady asks her. The Princess shrugs “I feel as if you should spare some help”. 

“And why is that?” Lady Jeyne asks looking at her cousin. “Because he is a farmer and they’re important to the land” She answers her. “Yes, but why should I help this particular farmer?” The Lady presses, as she stops walking. “Wheat, corn, pumpkins” The Princess lists “All of which feeds us. He does not only fill our bellies but the coffers”. The dark haired woman gives her a half smile “The simple answer is because he’s one of my people” she begins to walk “Ruling also entails helping those you govern”. 

‘I know that’ The Princess thinks. She nods, following the other woman out of the hall. “Will I be seeing you tomorrow?” Lady Jeyne asks her by her Lords and up the long staircase. “I’m not sure” She answers honestly, following the Lady “I know that I am set to go back to Dragonstone by the end of this week”. The dark haired woman looks back at her and nods “Well let me know if you are to be coming back or not. Just so I can make the arrangements”. The fair haired woman nods “Of course, and thank you. You have been a generous host”.

“Well thank you, Princess” Lady Jeyne says with a laugh “House Arryn is more than happy to aid the crown and those of it”. She gives a curtsy then turns to ascend the stairs. The Princess turns to her sworn shield, Ser Erryk Cragyll. The man notices the look on her face and groans “Oh, not again”. She chuckles at his sudden uncomfortableness. 

They walk up the long staircase to the east of the castle where the sky cells are kept. The turn key allowed them in the same cell they used to get into the castle. As if she can sense that they’re ready for departure, Syrax is by the edge. Her wings flapping to keep her in the sky. This is the tricky part of riding on dragon back to the Eyrie.

To travel by the mules then by foot. It takes about three day and a half to go up the castle. The solution to getting here within minutes is to go through a sky cell on dragon back. It may be a faster way up but it is still a challenge. The stone floor of the cell is sloped and Syrax’s wings flap wildly making it hard to get on and off her. Rhaenyra picks up the chalk that they left in the corner and rubs the bottom of her shoes with it.

When she’s done, she hands it over to Ser Erryk. As he does the same, she walk carefully to her dragon. The Princess stretches her body out over the span of the wing and grabs hold of the saddle. Using all her upper body strength she pulls at it to get atop of it. She lets out the breath she is holding and opens her eyes, turning to her companion.

He stretches his body out like she did hers and she grabs one of his hand as he grips the saddle with the other. He pulls himself up on the saddle letting out a shaky breath. His arm wraps around her middle in a death grip like he’s done before. He’s still not use to being on top of a dragon’s back. Once she has control of her breathing she grips the handles on the saddle.

“Sōvos, Syrax” She commands, loud and sweet. The golden dragon takes the command and soars into the sky. The cold wind hits their faces hard as Syrax glides through the Vale’s skies. When they reach Runestone they are greeted by the guards at the drawbridge. Ser Erryk jumps of the dragon first once they’re on ground and helps the Princess down. 

“You’re family is in the small hall in the east wing for the noon meal” One of the guards tells her as he bows and greets her. She nods and walks into the castle. She heads straight for the east wing’s small hall. When she enters the hall she stops in the threshold and watches her family interact. Her husband, Daemon is talking about who knows what as the children eat and speak amongst themselves. “I’ve seen you all started without me” She says, catching their attention.

“Mother” Her second son, Luke beams “You’re back”. “Yes I am” She smiles at him as she crosses the threshold. She walks to the empty chair thats beside her stepdaughter Dove and across from he husband. Her stepdaughter, who is at the head of the table is feeding her toddler, Viserys off her own plate. “I take it all went well” Her husband notes looking her over. 

Rhaenyra nods, taking a roll from the basket and grabbing the sweet cream. “Yes, I helped a farmer who’s pigpen was ruined by the latest storm” She tells him. “He ask for money?” Her stepdaughter asks looking at her with sharp eyes. The woman heir nods, “A thousand silver”. Her husband snorts “He has to have money to pay for a new pigpen”. The girl nods, “Yes, I was just curious”.

“What is a pigpen?” Luke asks from his place next to Jace. “Where they house pigs” His older brother tells him. “Have you taken the reigns or are you still just giving input?” Her husband asks getting her attention. The wife lets out a sigh “Still just input. I believe my cousin doesn’t trust me to take the reigns of her court”. “She’s just looking out for the Vale” Her stepdaughter says, shifting the toddler in her lap “You can help with the affairs and give advice but that doesn’t make you a Valeman”.

Rhaenyra breathes in, she knows this. She does not need the girl to tell her what she already knew. Besides it doesn’t matter because when she becomes Queen, she wouldn’t have conduct the affair of the Eyrie or the Vale. That’s for Jeyne Arryn, the Lady. As wardeness of the east and Lady Paramount it is her duty to keep the crown’s peace in the Vale.

“I think she’s been enjoying me there” She says taking a bite of her roll “And I enjoyed the castle though the crying Lady statue is quite off putting”. Jace’s face scrunches up in confusion “Crying statue”? The mother nods, taking another bite. “The late Lady Alyssa Arryn” Dove says, wiping Viserys’ face “She lived three thousand years or some ago. Watched her entire family family get butchered before her and she she’s not one tear. Now she is made into a waterfall, where she can weep for all of eternity”.

“That’s.. awful” Her eldest says, his words come out unsure. Her stepdaughter nods “Yes, it is. Though I find it a bit benevolent”. “Why is that?” Daemon asks looking up from his plate. “She didn’t weep in life. She couldn’t” Dove explains, her voice sounding older than her age “So she was granted in her death the endless fountain of her caged sorrows”. The girl blinks a few times as if she’s trying to keep some tears of her own at bay.

“Such cruelty, to watch those you love pass on before you” The Princess mutters under her breath. She didn’t think anyone would hear her yet the flinching of her stepdaughter lets her know she did. “May, I go flying with Daemon and Dove after the meal?” Jace asks after a moment of silence. He became a dragon rider just last year. Before she can answer her stepdaughter says “Oh, I can’t I have duties to attend to but tomorrow”?

The dark haired boy gives her a sullen nod. The young Lady gets up from her chair and sets the toddler down on it. “Speaking of duties I need to get going, may I be excused?” She politely asks, as if she wasn’t already dismissing herself. The stepmother also takes notice that the girl asks to be excused from her own table instead of just excusing herself.

Her stepdaughter crosses the room and opens the door leaving out of it. Before the door closes behind her Rhaenyra sees the girl’s knight, Ser Hunter slip something in the girl’s hand. The stepmother’s eyes narrow as she tries to get a glimpse at what was passed to her. Was it news from the capital or is it Vale business? The question rings in her mind as the door blocks her view. 

•VII•

Sansa folds the paper back into the bird it once was and pulls out her wooden box. She keeps all of the bird shape letters that Aemond has sent her over the years in this box. The one today goes right in with the rest. Maybe it’s not so smart to go down this road. Maybe she should just burn the box and all of the letters within it.

She can’t bring herself to, and she actually tried too. More than once. She was not supposed to get attached. After Laena’s death she knew she didn’t want to feel that pain again. Guess, she has to learn the hard way. 

She puts the box in it’s respective place under her bed and gets up to go to her mirror. She takes off all of her jewelry except for her signet ring necklace. Which she never takes off. Changes out of her bronze and silver dress. Exchanging it for black riding leggings and a black tunic.

She keeps her hair in it’s long braid but takes out the silk silver ribbon at the end. She puts on the black cloak that she wears during nights like this. She puts on the hood as she slips out of her bedchambers through the window. This part is always the trickiest. She absolutely hates it with a passion. 

However, it’s better than getting caught. Her Targaryen father, his wife and the rest of the family are here. If they find out what she is doing, no doubt there will be hell to pay. It’s funny, because Daemon would not give a rats ass if she were to sneak around with a stable boy. Aemond, is not a stable boy.

Far from it, and no matter how much her Targaryen father looks down on him. He very much has a chance of being a suitor for her. Even though the choice doesn’t lie with him. Daemon will never go for it. He will definitely have Caraxes burn her before ever walking her down the aisle toward him. 

When she reaches Lady, she gives her a kiss just below her eye. “Hello, my sweet girl” She greets her. She climbs on top of her with a struggle. How on earth, did Daenerys Targaryen manage too without a saddle? She will never know. Sansa doesn’t even need to tell her Lady where to go, she knows. 

There’s this mountain not too far from Runestone. Close to Iron Oaks. They meet there every three moons just before the hour of the wolf. It’s dangerous for a number of reasons. Yet, they’ve never been caught or troubled. 

She guesses that whatever lurks the mountain is scared off by Vhagar. As for her household, maybe she’s really good at being sneaky. Her and Lady arrive on the mountain to find Aemond and Vhagar already there. She sees him smiling up at her as she goes to land her girl. “What took you so long?” He asks, climbing off of his dragon. 

“I’m no later than I ever been” She says, climbing off her own. With his help of course. He takes her hood off as soon as she’s on the ground and smiles brightly at her. “My dearest Dove” His voice filled with awe “How I’ve missed you”. She giggles “I’ve missed you as well, Aems”.

He embraces her, squeezing her tight against him. Once they were the same height, now he’s a few inches taller and still growing. He pulls away from her, his smile still shining brighter than the moonlight. She’s sure hers is the same. 

“So, how’s ruling treating you?” He asks as he pulls himself completely off of her. She shrugs “Wouldn’t know, I’m not the one ruling”. He gives her a confused look letting her know she has to elaborate. “I am not of age” She explains, the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth “My cousin, the regent rules in my stead as I learn what it takes to be a Lady of a keep”. “I take it, you are not into being on the sidelines of it” He notes looking at her with a sharp eye. 

She shakes her head with a humorless chuckle “No, I do not”. He nods “I think I know how you feel”. She turns to face him with a confused expression “Really? How can you”? “It’s different, I am not to inherit anything” He tells her “But I grow everyday with the means of what it takes to rule and to watch bit get thrown away for—“. He shakes his head as he stops talking.

He does not have to finish his sentence for her to understand. She knows how Aemond feels about his mother and grandfather vying for the throne through Aegon. Even if he doesn’t tell her. There was once a time where Sansa would of thought him jealous. A second son who will inherit nothing because he’s also the son of a woman who is the daughter of a second son. 

He was dealt a poor hand. Especially when you take in consideration of his willingness to learn new skills and knowledge for the ‘better’. To watch power be wasted on an individual who is incompetent and vile must be a slap in the face. From what she sees of Aegon and his ‘adventures’ from her little birds, Aemond is completely justified. 

Or perhaps she is biased when it comes to him. That and the fact that she is not Aegon’s biggest fan. She takes Aemond’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “How is Helaena?” She asks trying to change the subject to something lighter “Did she like her name day gift”? His lips cut into a small grin “Yes, very much. She would not shut up about the creature”. 

For Helaena’s fifteenth name day, Sansa has gifted her a Dornish sand spider. Not a rare insect, but it is something that is not in her Targ-tower cousin’s collection. “And the twin? How are they”? His grin turns back into that bright smile he had before “They’re excellent”. 

“Are they”? 

“Yes” He nods with a chuckle “And they get into everything have to keep doors closed, even though they’re learning to open them”. Sansa chuckles, she remembers Rickon being quite the menace when he was the twin’s age. Helaena’s beautiful baby girl and boy are two years of age. The same age as her Targaryen half-brother Viserys. She wonders if in her time, the old time, they even knew each other. 

Probably not. Aemond looks at his cousin as she goes on about meeting the twins. The smile makes him think that she will love the twins as if they’re her own. He bets his sapphire that she’ll be the best mother on this damned planet. “They’ll love you” He tells her, staring as her eyes sparkle in the moonlight. 

When he picked the sapphire to put in his eye he thought of her blue one. Thought they looked just the same. Even thought that his eyes will look somewhat like hers. He was foolish for that thought. Nothing can ever compare to these precious irises glancing at him. 

Not even a rare jewel like his sapphire. It pales in comparison to her own. “What?” Dove asks blinking at him with a confused expression. He can feel the panic that is starting to burn inside him at the thought of her catching him staring. “You have really pretty eyes, My Lady” He tells her, his voice as calm as his expression. His cousin looks him over  with those precious eyes then giggles. 

“You tell me that every time I catch you staring” She says, the giggles lingering in her voice. Oh, does he? He shrugs, “Oh well, excuse me for commenting on the matter again”. Sansa giggles again, because she knows he’ll do it again. And by the smirk on his face, he does too.

•VII•

Aemond opens up the door to his bedchambers smiling wide as he goes in. “And where have you been?” His mother’s voice startled him but he doesn’t jump. He looks up to see her sitting on his bed in the same dress as the day before. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her eyes narrow in authority. “What are you doing here?” He asks completely ignoring her question.

His mother narrows her eyes even more as to scold him and tell him to answer her. “I was off with Vhagar” He answers closing the door behind him. Alicent sighs as she looks her son up and down. She knows exactly what he was doing, who he was with and where he was. It’s hard to be subtle when you have the biggest dragon in the world. 

“Aemond” She breathes out “Do not lie to me”. “I’m not” His voice defensive “I was with Vhagar”. “Maybe that is true but you two were not alone” She says getting up from his bed. The son nods “No we were not” He says “We were accompanied by the trees, the wind and the birds—“. “Aemond” His mother frustratingly interrupts, “Were you with Dove”? 

The son looks over his mother with a serious expression. The room goes heavy with the silence. “We were outside” Those words make her heart stop. Were they discovered? “I’m sure there was a dove or two”. 

A red hot flash of anger soars through her “AEMOND”! Her second son does not seem to be bothered by her ire. “Mother” He says coolly. She breathes in slowly as if to calm herself from strangling him. Aemond knows better than to work up his mother. 

Yet, she is quite unreasonable when it comes to Dove. She has expressed to taking a liking for his cousin. However, any time he brings up the prospect of marriage she shoots it down. Goes on about Rhaenyra and Daemon. It’s an irritating rant. 

What does his half-sister and wayward uncle have to do with his precious Dovey? Absolutely nothing. Specially, considering that, Dove, was the Lady of her own keep. A keep her father has no claim to. One far away from the threats that are Rhaenyra and Daemon. 

Alicent lets out a frustrated sigh. “Aemond, do you have any idea how damaging this is?” She asks, her voice filled with emotion “Not just for yourself but for Dove. Especially for Dove”. Her son just blinks at her, confusion paints his face. “You two stealing away into the night like that, alone”.

Her voice dropping low as if to stop others from listening. Which very well may be in this castle. “And with you being of that…. age… where you may… want to explore more w..with girls” She stumbles over her words as she talks, finding it hard to all of the sudden. Aemond’s eye widens as he catches what his mother is hinting at. “Nothing happened” He blurts out, hot blush appearing on his cheeks. 

“I know that-“

“No, nothing happened” He insists, voice cracking in embarrassment “I swear to you mother. We talked, we haven’t seen each other in a while”. Alicent nods looking at her son. He’s telling the truth she knows. Aemond and Dove are respectful and dutiful children. She knows how close they are and no doubt that they wanted to see each other after how long it’s been. Even though she can forgive this act of rebellion from these two, she’s not so sure others will.

Mainly, the girl’s father, Daemon. Who will no doubt jump to conclusions and think her son has sullied his daughter. “Are you sure, no one saw you?” She asks rubbing a hand up and down his arm in a comforting manner. He nods, surely “Yes, mother. I promise”. She nods “Alright then”.

She gives him a kiss on his forehead and makes her way over to the door. “Aemond” She calls out “You do understand this can never happen again”? Her son blinks at her for a moment before he nods “Yes, mother”. She nods offering a small smile “Goodnight, my boy”. With that she opens the door seeing her way out. 

Aemond lets out a sigh as he sits on his bed. He hates that he’s going to defy her in the next three moons to come. Just one more visit. One more to say goodbye and they’ll meet again. One more visit can’t damage anything can it? 

>The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just to love
And be loved
In return

Chapter 8: SMOKE II

Summary:

In 124 A.C, the Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and her husband, Daemon Targaryen leave Runestone for the capital.

Notes:

Watch them preach in sour lies
I would rather see this world through the eyes of a child - Through of the eyes: AURORA

The knock on Aemond’s door this morning cause him to wake with a start. “Who is it?” He calls out groggily, sitting up with a yawn. “It’s your mother” The Queen answers, her voice muffled by the thick wooden door “Are you decent”? “Wait a moment” He gets up stretching his arms. The tunic he wore last night is on the floor by his feet.

He grabs it, puts it on and head to the door, opening it.“Yes, mother”? The Queen, stands with her sworn shield, Ser Criston and another kings guard member, Ser Arryk. Her curly hair is up and away from her face, decorated with gold cusps to match her necklace. Her dress is it’s usual green with long sleeves, yet this one has gold trimming on the neckline, sleeves and the bottom.  She is the very image of a Queen.

Yet with how elegant she may look it is clear something weighs heavy on her. “What’s wrong?” He asks before she can answer his previous question. The mother looks back at Ser Criston with a small smile, “I’ll just be a moment”. She steps into his room making him take a step back and closes the door behind herself. One of her hand’s grabs his forearm gently as she guides him to the small dining table in his chambers.

When they sit down she lets out a frustrated sigh. “Rhaenyra and her family are to be coming back to Kingslanding” She tells him after a moment of silence. His heart jumps at the prospect that Dove may come to Kingslanding as well. He does not betray his inner feelings on face though. He raises an eyebrow instead and asks “Why”? His mother shrugs “As if I would know”.

“Didn’t she flee, just four years ago?” He recounts “What on earth would make her come back to a place she left in such a hurry”? His mother shrugs again “I have no idea…. It can’t be good”. No it can not. “Why does she and her little heathens, that she calls sons need to come here and disrupt the peace that we have created here?” His mother all but shouts, her hands tightening into balls. Her knuckles are so white they can blend with his hair. 

He shakes his head as his mother lets her head fall into her palms. In the silence that takes over them, a thought pops to his head. “Father is growing sicker by the day” He says, his voice low “He already lost an entire arm, the fingers on the other are deteriorating and his teeth are so rotten they fall out by the day”. His mother gives him a side glance from her hands. The point of his words lost on her.

“Mother, Rhaenyra is his heir” He reminds her “He’s said it time and time again. He’s dying,. She knows it and she obviously is trying to stay close to the throne to take it”. Alicent’s hazel eyes go wide as she sits up straighter and slowly move her hands. A cold shiver runs down her spine as the severity of her situation sets in. 

To secure her claim she’ll have to put your children to the sword she’ll have no choice

If Rhaenyra comes into power she’ll remove any challenge to her succession

Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned 

It all hits her at once. Everything that has been told to her. Everything she has seen. There is no denying that she and her children are as good as dead when Rhaenyra ascends the throne. Especially given that the woman heir never forgets a slight and Alicent cut that woman deep, flesh to vein. 

Rhaenyra is coming back to the capital. Viserys is dying. The throne will be there for the taking. Tears build up in her eyes as she stares at her son. There is no denying that they all are as good as dead.

•VIII•

Sansa walks into the chambers that her Targaryen father is currently occupying. She straightens out her gray silk dress as she crosses the threshold. The guard that is posted at the door closes it behind her, leaving her alone with the adults within it. Rhaenyra is standing beside the bed rocking a sleeping Viserys in her arms.

Her hair is braided back in a style that Sansa herself wears. Her dress is red wool with the Targaryen sigil embroidered on the right just above her breast with black diamonds and beads. “Are you all packed?” She asks them. Daemon, who is sitting in a chair at the small table turns to her, asking “And why exactly, do we have to go to Kingslanding”? The girl walks closer to where he is, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

“Like I told you last night and the day before that it’s best if you stay close with the King” She tells him. The Prince donned in black wool, looks her up and down. “I am heir” Rhaenyra says “I have the word of the King and the Lord’s oaths. I do not see why I have to go back to that place”. The girl breaths in slowly as if what she just said annoys her. “Words, are naught” She replies, “I’ve told you this. They ceased to exist when it no longer serves purpose”.

The woman heir chews her lower lip in irritation. “Yet, you will give them purpose” Her stepdaughter says walking closer to her “Starting with the High Septon”. The adults snort at her words. “The, High Septon, is not of the support of the Targaryens” The father huffs humorously “The seven piss on us from above”. The girl nods “There are three major key factors that come into play when it comes to the Iron Throne. The people, the family, and the faith”. The woman heir stops her swaying paying her full attention to her stepdaughter.

“Even though it all goes into who is liked more. The people will either go with who the faith petition for or of their own accord. You have the family name, you’re just lacking the gender. The Hightower’s have their advantage with their close relations to the faith. Targaryen’s do not follow the seven and the culture of this family is off putting to them. It is unholy and you being a woman and a Targaryen makes you lose a factor and a half”. 

‘Yet, Aegon and his exploits do not move him an inch from the factors’ The woman heir thinks, shifting her toddler in her arms to play with a ring on her finger. “So, I’ll never have the High Septon’s support” She voices tightly. The girl shrugs “Maybe. Maybe not, it is a gamble. Yet, you will bet away. Pray at the Sept, have a few conversations with the Septon. Visit the orphanages, buy from vendors, invite a different Lord and their household to your table every night. The Hightower’s will make a move. They’ve come to far. Do not make it easy for them as you already have”.

“And stepping on their toes? That’s a better idea?” The woman questions, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, Princess” Her eyes soft as if she’s looking at a child “You already have. Your heir, Aegon is not”. The woman eyes her stepdaughter up and down. The words of Rhaenys comes into her head. Ringing loud and clear to make themselves known.

The men of the realm will except him to be heir. Not you, because that is the order of things. 

‘Order. This bothersome order. She spits on order. On the Septon. On anyone who opposes her’. Sansa steps closer towards the Princess. She hesitantly takes her hand into hers, a sad smile on her lips. “You have the option to forfeit your title and ask your half-brother for his word to give you Dragonstone and peace along with it. You will not be craven but smart to those of the realm who never excepted you”. The woman holds her breath in anticipation for the girl’s next words. “Or you can continue being the named heir and gather support but I must warn you. Being named heir does not guarantee a crown”.

Sansa hopes her words give her some sense. It’s a dangerous play, pushing Rhaenyra to the throne. But what can she do truly? The woman heir will not step down from her position that is clear . Neither will the Greens. 

War will happen, if Aegon is crowned and Rhaenyra and her children are still alive. The Hightowers will never make a move as dangerous as trying to crown Aegon if Rhaenyra is in the Redkeep. It’s best not to give them that opportunity at all. She knows this will be a problem, cause tension even more. Hopefully Viserys dies soon that way the tension doesn’t have to boil over.

That thought makes Sansa uncomfortable. She seems to be as wicked as Lord Varys and Lord Baelish. What choice does she have truly? Aemond should not become a kinslayer. He’s so sweet and honest.

He’ll become a just man if the incident at Storms end, didn’t happen. Helaena is a good mother and her babies are just the sweetest things. Rhaena and Baela deserve to not lose everyone before their very eyes. The boys are going to reach manhood, if she has any say in it. Rhaenyra and Alicent should be able to see their children grow up. 

If they don’t die from natural causes, at least. War will turn them both into Lady Stoneheart. War will turn her into Lady Stoneheart. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to handle a war and the grief that comes with it another time. To lose Lady again.

The woman heir stays quiet for a moment, contemplating. If she were a man the crown would be nailed to the title. She’s not one though. Which means that the crown is hanging by a lose thread, but not over her head. No, but over the head of her younger half-brother. 

Daemon looks at the scene before him. His wife is going to stay heir and will rule after Viserys dies. He can tell by her stiff lip, she is determined. His daughter on the other hand, seems to be reluctant. There is something she is hiding from them, he knows it. 

“I was named heir” Rhaenyra says her voice distant “I’ve been named for eighteen years. I am to be heir… to have my blood on the throne when dark times come upon us”. From her blood will come the Prince that was promised. Her father told her it time and time again. Sansa stares at the woman, her tummy tightening in fear. There is something more to the woman’s pursuit than ambition.

Her hand slips from the woman’s letting it fall in front of her. “Is there anything else”? What does that mean? “I do not know what you mean my Lady” She admits eyeing her stepdaughter. The girl’s eyes almost widen. 

A whirlwind of emotions swirl within them. Then she knew. Daemon said his daughter has a thousand eyes. One for here, there, and every damn where. Only makes sense for her to know this as secret as well.

The girl shakes her head as if she’s in denial. “Never mind that, your Highness” She says, stepping backwards a couple of steps away from her “Jace and Luke should stay here”. The woman’s silver eyebrow raises questioning her. “It’s best to keep them away from The Queen’s children. There’s already going to be issues. You don’t want to add another one into the mix”. The woman heir stills for a moment.

Leave her sons here. Why would she do that? They are perfectly fine with her. “They’ll just be here until you can find a place for them to be fostered, I suggest Luke at Driftmark and Jace at Highgar—“.  “Highgarden?!” Rhaenyra snaps, cutting her off “Why would I have my son fostered at Highgarden”? 

“The Tyrell’s are Leige Lords to the Hightowers” Her husband points out. “My sons are not to be taken from me to be thrown into den with the snakes” The Mother huffs, protectively hugging her youngest to her. “They need to be fostered” The girl says “This and marriages will seal alliances”. “Who’s to say that fostering will guarantee support?” The man asks, his almost invisible eyebrow lifting. It’s then, when she realizes she can’t use her father’s fostering at the Eyrie and Robert’s rebellion as an example to persuade them.

She rolls her eyes, it was right there. “They need to foster” She insists “If not Highgarden. There is Storms end, Riverrun, Winterfell and maybe Casterly Rock but the Lannisters are last even on my list”. It’s petty, she knows it. If she can be able to look past the Targaryens and all of their mishaps, even though it is self fulfilling then she should for the Lannisters. “Aiming high there, daughter” The father muses.

She rolls her eyes once more “There is also Pyke”. “What about the Eyrie?” The woman heir asks “Lady Jeyne would be a great—“. “Rhaena is to be fostered at the Eyrie” She tell them. The man’s eyebrow raises once more “Is she now? I don’t remember making this decision”. Her eyes roll once more. 

Oh, how he wishes for them to just roll right out. May teach her a lesson. “Rhaena should be fostered in the Vale” She corrects, “And you have until tomorrow and the next morning to make your decision on Jacaerys”. “What of Luke? Lord Corlys is on one of his ventures. He’s barely home. Baela is at Driftmark on the grace of her grandmother” The mother says. Oh, Princess Rhaenys.

Sansa enjoys the woman from her time of visiting Baela on Driftmark. While the older woman can find it in her heart to welcome Sansa, Rhaenyra’s children not so much. Something that may seem odd given the fact that the boys are Velaryons and she is a the daughter of her daughter’s husband’s first marriage. As heartbreaking as it is for the boys to suffer for their mother’s indiscretions, she does understand the older Princess.

Whatever Rhaenyra’s reasoning for her elder children is, it will not garner any sympathy from the nobles and faith. Although, Rhaenyra’s situation is different than that of Cersei Lannister. Given the fact that the children will inherit through Rhaenyra and not the father. It matters not. Not when the realm will plunge into a ruin even without a bastard on the throne. 

“Luke is her grandson” Sansa says, the words almost taste of dirt “I’m sure she’ll  love to foster him”. The woman sucks in a breath at her stepdaughter’s words. No matter how helpful, the girl is still a nuisance. Daemon conceals a grin, this fucking girl. “You need support on more than just that of words, Princess” The girl says, bringing back a small smile. 

“I know this may seem like a lot but it is the hand that is dealt to those of your standing” Her words honeyed and light. Yet the weight was there and as heavy as the burden she carries. 

•VIII•

The hall leading to the cells is dark save for the dim light he carries. The air smells foul of feces, manure, blood, and sickness. The sounds of groans and starved stomachs growling bounces off the walls. Echoing into Larys’ ears as he drags his foot on the hard ground. His cane tapping on the surface as well to alert the others of his presence.

He turns the corner smiling wide at the ones before him. His smile wicked and crooked not sparring an once of remorse. The men stare at him wide eyed with fear. They always do, as if they’re not the ones that committed crimes. How funny is that, to be a free man and still be confined in a prison of reputation.

“I bet you are wondering why I am here” He says as he takes a seat. The men look around then back at him not daring to say anything. “You’re all to be hanged for your crimes in just a few days” He states, eyes flaming before them “I have you know that, I can give you a way out of your current predicament”. The men exchange looks amongst each other. Then one asks “How will you do that”?

“I’ll offer you mercy” He answers, as he always does with this question. It is always asked. In this dark, dank cell that light will reach. When he comes to collect prisoners there is man brave enough to take death. Yet, he honors them all the same.

“You just have to pay one small price” He says, waiting for the next question to come. “What…. price is that”? There it is the next question but not the final. “Your tongue” He answers bluntly, watching as the men squirm in fear. “W…w-why”? 

There’s the final question. 

Lord Larys sighs closing his eyes in fake disappointment. “Why do birds fly? Why do monkeys climb? Questions that are asked but never answered. Do you know why” He slowly opens his eyes looking at the prisoners before him. They shake their heads, their throats may be to tight to let words pass through.  “Because they don’t matter” He says casually “Why do they? Things are just the way that they are. Asking just to receive no answer that was never meant to be received will only drive you mad”.

He huffs a chuckle, his smile getting impossibly wide. “Trust me, I know” He takes his cane and taps the side of his metal clasped foot. “Ah, so” He stands up as abruptly as he can, balancing his weight on his cane “Who wants to go first”. The first tongue to go was that of a murder. Who squirmed and pissed, funny for one who so easily took another’s life. 

Then a thief who was quiet and still. Accepting of his new fate. Probably just happy is was not his hand. Last he chose was a deviant. The Lord Larys, did not pay much attention to him as he was gathering the rats. 

As the man we’re getting sterilized and looked after, he coddled his new set of eyes. It, who is a male, relaxed in his arms at his strokes. He had them washed and groomed. The ones that were riddle with disease were toss out. What good could they be of use for him? 

He continues stroking the rat as the men meet him just outside of the cells. They were scrubbed clean and treated. They now where black hooded cloaks of wool, fastened by a firefly broach. Larys approach’s the murderer putting the rat in his hand. The man does not squirm. 

Good, can not have that being a permanent aspect in him. “I have means for you” He says, their eyes never leave his face “Not here, though”. He turns to one of his guards who gives him the map. It is rolled up and tied with a thin string into a bow. “This is a map of the Vale” He says handing it over to the thief “I’ll have someone who can read and navigate to accompany you”. 

The thief takes the map eyeing the rolled up paper with suspicion. That is a problem. “You will go to Runestone. You will release a couple of these creatures, amongst the land close to the castle” He instructs them. He grabs the wooden cage with the rest of the rats handing them to the deviant. His smile takes up half his face.

The rodents inside the cage screech and thump within it. “I trust you will accomplish this very simple task” Larys says. His lips may be in a smile but there is no joy within it. The men nod at his words, there is not much to be said. Besides, the questions were already asked and answered. 

> Please don't leave me here...

Notes:

A/N: I really hope I handled the survivors guilt and war trauma well. Also I know that Sansa is being a bit naive but let’s remember her experience in war. Also not forgotten about the threat in the North. Just in this time period the others haven’t been spotted in a millennium and plus. Also the Starks, past life and present life are not forgotten.

Anyways hoped you enjoyed! <3

Chapter 9: SMOKE III

Summary:

In 124 A.C. The Princess of Dragonstone has arrived in Kingslanding.

Notes:

Everybody's looking for something
Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you- Sweet Dreams (AMOT): Eurythmics, Annie Lennox, and Dave Stewart

The shrill screeching of the Blood wyrm catches the eyes of the royals below. The blood red, dragon flies above in the grey clouded skies. The weather must of gotten the hint of the day. The sound of hooves and the wheels of the wheel house fill the yard by the front gate of the Redkeep. The horses are the first to come into sight.

The Prince Daemon, rides upon a black destrier with a sliver-blond mane. He stops his horse as the others gather in. His pale lilac eyes roam over the faces of his brother and his family. The wheelhouse comes into view as it stops in the middle of the yard. The black wheelhouse is tall, black as night with dragons carved into it.

“The Princess Rhaenyra of the House Targaryen, heir to the iron throne and Princess of Dragonstone” A Page announces. While he names the Prince, the door to the carriage opens. A second or two pass before Princess Rhaenyra is revealed. She grabs the sides of her purple cloak to help with her train as she steps down. She walks towards her father, gracefully. 

“Your Grace” She greets dropping into a curtsy. The King, Viserys lets out a huff as he applies more weight on his jeweled cane. He leans in with a smile, showcasing rotten grey teeth. His breath smells old as he chuckles when he leans into his daughter. “No need for that” His words breathy as he embraces her. 

The daughter chuckles squeezing and releasing her father. She pulls away completely and looks to his wife. The Queen Alicent, is dressed in her usual green, glittered with gold jewelry from head to hands. She gives a bow of her head with a “My Queen”. The exchange was quick and the fair head woman didn’t give the dark haired woman anytime to greet her as well. 

The Prince walks over to his brother, his chain mail clinking with each step. “Your Grace” He bows. The King’s watery eyes dart over his brother’s face. “You haven’t aged a day” He exaggerates a complaint. Daemon gives his brother a half smirk “Neither have you”. 

The older brother rolls his eyes “Pah, stop it” throwing his hand with cane. “I’m serious” He chuckles, causing his older brother and wife to chuckle as well. He steps away from his brother, walking to be in front of the Queen. Taking her hand into his gently and pulls out. 

He leans his head in and kisses her ring. “My Queen” He greets pulling away, straightening himself out. Not missing the cold look of the Lord Hand and Ser Criston. “Prince Daemon” She greets back giving him a nod, folding her hands back over her middle. “I’ll show you to your living quarters”  Viserys says with a laugh, nodding towards the castle. 

“You need rest, my love” The Queen says, behind him “Let someone else show them”. The older man gives her an irritated shake of his head “No, no. I’ll show them” He insists. When the news of Rhaenyra coming to the capital with her children hit the King’s ears, he was elated. He was adamant this morning on coming to greet her himself despite his health. Just another example of Alicent coming second to Rhaenyra. 

Her silent irritation become confusion when her good-daughter speaks up. “Father, I believe you should listen to her grace” She says “We shall have supper together tonight. How does that sound”? The brief look of defiance is washed away with a happy look on his exhausted face. “Oh, that sounds wonderful” He beams. The daughter smiles just as brightly walking to him and looping her arms into his stump.

“Let’s get you to bed” She says guiding him to the steps. Alicent stands for a moment in shock at the other woman agreeing with her. It wears off as the father and daughter pass by her. ‘She didn’t do it to taunt me’ She thinks ‘She did it for him’. The Royal family, their household and the Princess’s household flock into the castle. 

Leaving the other staff to do their jobs of gathering their belongings. The stable boys take the horses to be fed and washed. The gates close behind the scene as thunder claps loud in the distance.

•IX•

Rhaenyra walks across the busy street in a steady pace. It’s the next day after her arrival in Kingslanding. She never got to sup with her father, as he was indisposed for the evening. Neither did she get to break fast with him. No worries there because tonight he sent word of having a supper with her and her family.

The Sept glittered in her view as she walks close to the steps. She has no idea what she could possibly say to the Septon. Her stepdaughter suggests just pray for now. Let the man get a good look at her. She hasn’t even step foot into the building and she’s already nervous.

The big gold doors open and she is lead up the steps. The rubies on her boysenberry dress glitter with each step. The Sept is dimly lit on it’s own with candles. The sun however gives a shine through the windows. Ser Erryk guides her down the long stairs and to the small statue of the mother. 

Rhaenyra kneels before the statue of the goddess, bowing her head. The mother is supposed to grant mercy. It’s not what most women from the south pray to. At first she wasn’t going to give a prayer, just pretend to. Then she got a glimpse of her father and heard of his health.

It changed her perspective. She loves her father more than anything. She hates to see him like this. Fading before her very eyes. Yet, who’s to say that the mother will grant her mercy?

She closes her eyes and clasps her hands together. There is no darkness beneath her eyelids. Colors burst, here and there. The silence rings loud in her ears like someone is screaming in them. Her prayer will not be answered.

•IX•

The Queen and her household are the first to arrive in the dining hall. The Princess and her household arrive second. Not even minutes later. The Princess Rhaenyra is seated to be on her father’s right side. While his wife is to be on his left.

The King and his Hand are to be seated at the ends of the table. Queen Alicent’s three children sit by the adults in silence. Aemond on the right side of Prince Daemon, who is to the right of his wife. Helaena is in the middle of Aegon and her mother. The small children were left out of the dinner for whatever reason, Rhaenyra can’t remember.

Her nerves are on fire from this afternoon. As she was leaving the Sept she had noticed the High Septon looking at her in confusion. She has caught his attention and from what she’s seen not in a good way. Her eyes flicker up at the Queen who’s eyes seem to never leave her face. If she was caught praying at the Sept, the Septon wouldn’t think twice about it. 

She knows she’s doing this for his support. He however, doesn’t need to. Tomorrow she is scheduled for an even busier day. Hopefully, she can talk her father into having her conduct court. A job that is usually passed onto the Hand of the King is indisposed. 

She doubts that Otto Hightower will allow her to shadow him as the Lady Jeyne had. She still isn’t sure which of the two would be better for her cause. The doors of the dining hall open wide capturing the attendees eyes. The King hobbles into the room with his Hand trailing behind him. He smiles at her when he passes by going to his seat.

Once the King and Lord Hand settle, the food starts to come in. Servants bring out a tray with three small suckling pigs. Each pig has a different fruit in their mouths. The first one is stuffed with a lemon, garlic, and rosemary. The second with an apple and it’s body slathered in honey, grind mustard seeds and salt. 

The third with an orange, cinnamon and slathered with salted butter. The pork is cut and each guest is given a slice of all three of them. The adults are given a choice between two wines, a dry white wine from the Dorne or a hippocras, also from Dorne. While the children were offered a juice made from cranberries and oranges. They just got wine.

Alicent cuts into a slice of her pork popping it into her mouth. Her eyes flicker back towards Rhaenyra. She hasn’t seen her at all today. The Princess is not in Targaryen house colors. Hasn’t been since she’s been here, from what she’s seen.

She’s been dressed in shade of purple like this dress. It’s the color of irises, decorated in gold brocade with long sleeves and low neckline that accentuates her large breast. Her silver hair is down and around her shoulders save for the front pieces that are pulled back. On her head rests a diadem decorated with small rubies and diamonds with a big amethyst in the middle. Matching with her earrings and two rings on her fingers.

She’s a vision, Alicent can admit that. Beauty however, can’t make you a ruler or merciful. “So, Rhaenyra” Her husband’s voice catches her attention “Where are my eldest grandsons”? That’s a question she, herself has been wondering. The pale haired woman gives a glance to her husband before she answers.

“We thought it best for them to stay behind” She tells him “We have also been thinking of fostering them”. The father gives a nod of approval “Good, they should foster. Venture out, get to see more of the realm”. Who will take her children in for fostering? “Who will they’ll be going with?” Her husband takes the question out her mind, into his mouth.

“Luke will be fostered at Driftmark” The daughter answers with a smile “With Baela. Rhaena is set to go to the Vale. For Jace we have not decided”. The father lets out an “oh”. So the Velaryon’s have no qualms about being disrespected? That’s quite disappointing. “Oh well, he can be fostered here” Viserys offers, with a cough.

Rhaenyra’s eyes go wide just like Alicent’s. “Father, you don’t—“. The King shakes his head “Oh, no. No, I think it’s best he is your heir and what better than to have him be a ward of the crown”? The daughter lets out a huff mixed with a chuckle “it’s a great honor, truly. It’s just, he needs to venture out and get to see more of the Kingdoms”. The father gives a shake of his head throwing a hand up. “Pah, you’ve said that and I said my piece”.

The daughter nods “Yes, you have. Though I think it’s best for him to not be here. Especially with what happened with—“. “Aemond” He interrupts “Ah, he’s over it. It was just an accident”. At the mention of his name and injury the second son gives a sharp glare that his father does not notice. The woman heir conceals the triumph she feels with a small grateful smile. “If you insist” She placed her hand on his “Then I’ll be more than happy to grant you this”.

The Queen passes a glance to her father then her eyes dart from her husband to his daughter. She scoffs taking her cup of dry wine and takes an unladylike gulp. This is ridiculous. “Although Jace is going to be heartbroken” The pale haired woman says with a pout “He loves Runestone and Dove…”. Her voice trails off as Aemond tries to register her words. 

That bastard boy is at Runestone and Dove didn’t mention it. Why didn’t she mention it? Why was he at Runestone? “We were visiting the Lady Dove at her castle on her invitation” His half-sister answers him. He asked that out loud? 

He did not and if he did no one noticed because everyone’s attention is on the Princess. “They get along well?” The King asks with a small smile. The daughter nods “They are just best of friends. It’s hard to separate them”. “Oh” The King’s smile widens “I believe I hear the sound of wedding bells ringing in the future”. 

The father chuckles once more delightfully. Ignoring the second sharp glance Aemond gives him. Dove is a true born Lady. She can’t be wed to a bastard that will ruin her bloodline and House. His eye sees the looks that his siblings give him.

Helaena, one of pity and Aegon a wicked smile. He huffs sinking into his chair and drowning out the rest of the evening’s conversation. Rhaenyra never thought of the prospect of marriage between her eldest and her husband’s eldest. The girl is from a old and wealthy House and she has the blood of old Valaryia and the first man. She’s a dragon rider as well.

The Lady Jeyne is quite taken with her. Which means the Vale will be more than secured. Dove can be a bit much but she’s sure she can persuade her. Jace is the perfect match for her and they really do get along so well. No matter how much a realist the girl can be she can be a bit of dreamer at times.

Once she heard her tell Rhaena that she once wanted to marry a Prince and live a song like life. She can have that. Rhaenyra is sure of it. The Queen’s eyes flicker to her second son’s slumped body. Oh, her poor boy. 

She gives a glance to her father who gives her a nod. She told him about Aemond and Dove’s little adventure. She can’t decide if her father views it as a good or bad thing. The way he talked about it made it hard to decipher. She just hopes his hatred for Daemon doesn’t cloud his judgement.

The last time he went to the King about Targaryen’s intermingling, it did not go well. Besides that, she knows for sure nothing happened between the two. Not everyone will care for that information though. Her eyes flicker to Daemon who is listening to his wife and brother speak.  Fear creeps into her mind at the thought of his reaction.

May the father pass his judgment on them. May the mother grant them mercy. Let it just disappear like it didn’t happen. The Queen’s hazel eyes lock with the Princess’s indigo ones. May the Gods answer her prayers.

> Sweet dreams are made of this
Who am I to disagree

Notes:

A/N: There was a Mysria and Daemon scene but I took it out last minute because I hated it. Also, I think the seven aren’t real. While we have proof of the old gods and the lord of light being real there’s not that much evidence of the seven. I truly believe that it is the old gods answering Sansa’s prayers and not the seven.

Hope you enjoyed <3

Chapter 10: SMOKE IV

Summary:

In 124 A.C. The Princess meets with the High Septon.

Notes:

People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never shared
And no one dared - The Sound Of Silence: Simon & Garfunkel

The cool wind blows past Sansa as she nocks her bow. “And release” Her cousin Gerold commands. So she does, hitting the outer layer of the target. Turns out she’s really good at archery. Just like her Royce mother, Rhea. 

Gerold says that Rhea will be so proud of her form. That made her smile. As well sad, she misses the woman. Wishes that she had her still. Sometimes she wishes for Laena Velaryon to be here.

Most times she wishes for Catelyn Stark. What good would that do? Longing for the ones that have been gone for so long. “That was good” Her cousin says getting her attention “You can do better”. She nods and gets back into position, nocking her bow.

She breathes in deeply training her eye to her target. ‘Be like Rhea’ She thinks, pulling and releasing her arrow. It hits the big red dot that Gerold painted on a while ago. “Very good” He praises walking to gather her arrows “Your mother is in you”. She smiles bowing her head slightly “Thank you”.

“That was really good” Lucerys says behind her “Better than Jace”. The older boy rolls his eyes “It was good, my Lady”. She chuckles walking over to them and places her weapon in Jace’s hands. “Your turn” She says “Go, prove him wrong”. The older boy walks over to where she was previously at. 

He gets into position and nocks his bow then releases. The arrow flies out and lands just above the red dot. Sansa chuckles clapping her hands in delight. Jace turns to her playfully rolling his eyes with a big goofy smile. Her heart stops like it always does when he smiles.

His smile is exactly like Robb’s. A thousand burning sun’s shining brightly as they disguise themselves as teeth. Was Robb’s smile like that? She’s sure it was. It was sometime ago but he smiled like that, she’s sure.

Jacaerys walks back to her handing back her bow. She walks over to the quiver near where Luke is sitting taking an arrow. She walks back to her previous spot and resumes her activity. She will make the next shot, for Rhea.

•X•

“Princess” Rhaenyra hears someone say in a deep voice. She lifts her head to see the High Septon standing a little close to her. He’s looming over her with an almost annoyed expression. She blinks up at him, a small smile on her lips. “Your Holiness” She greets “I’m sorry I am in the middle of—“.

“Oh forgive me for interrupting your prayers” He says, with a slight condescending tone “I… see you have taken to the mother as of late. I have seen you here all week”. His closed off demeanor is easy to spot. He doesn’t like her and he’s not even hiding it. In fact most of the small council members have no problem with letting her get usurped. The second her father dies this man will crown her half-brother along with the members of the small council.

She lets her smile waver and watches as he almost forms one. Ha, he thinks he’s stripped her. “Yes… um.. I’ve been gone for a long time and in my absence my father’s health has…” She stops talking looking down at her fidgeting hands. There is a short silence between before she speaks again. “His health has gotten worse since I’ve last seen him” Her voice strong and her eyes never leaving his “I had hoped that maybe the mother would answer my prayers and help restore my father’s…”. 

The man nods his dark eyes somewhat softening at her words. “Desperate times do seem to have the ones who once cast the gods aside come crawling to them on battered knees” He says. The woman heirs eyes narrow at the insult. “Oh, I mean no offense Princess” He says, he does she knows it. She will not bare this insult yet she can’t do anything to jeopardize his support.

So she smiles the most elegant of smiles and bows her head lightly. “I’m sure you didn’t” She says, the bite in her tone however, is clear “If you will excuse me. I have to go”. The frail old man nods his head “Of course, Princess”. She matches up the steps trying to get out as soon as possible. ‘That fucking man’ She thinks huffing out in frustration. 

When she arrives to her apartments, she is met with Daemon sitting at table reading some book. “You’re back” He notes, flipping a page “How was the Sept? Did you get to meet the mother”? She huffs shaking her head “No, but I did meet a cunt”. Her husband chuckles looking up at her “I take it the meeting with the Septon Eustance, didn’t go well”. She shakes her head “He will never back me”. 

“No, he won’t” Her husband agrees looking back down at his book “Maybe it’s not such a great loss”. The wife looks at her husband in disbelief. “What? It is, the faith is in issue and I do not want an uprising” She says, in annoyed tone. Daemon doesn’t pay it any mind and chuckles “They won’t uprise”. She racks in her mind, thinking of the faith militant.

Dove, says the faith is dangerous and will play a part in her rise or fall. She is right. It’s clear, to her on what she needs to do. “Never mind that” She dismisses walking closer to him “I was thinking of father’s comment the other night”. He looks back up at her wanting her to elaborate. 

“About hearing wedding bells, for Jace and Dove” She says, plainly watching his expression with a close eye. “You want to marry them” It’s not a question, it’s a statement let out with a scoff. The wife nods, waiting for him to talk again. “Dove wants to marry a lesser Lord” He tells her, recalling a conversation he had with his daughter “Or a banner man of the Vale or North”. “Why marry a banner man? When she can be Queen one day” is her response with a shrug. 

Daemon grabs the page mark and places it in his book, closing it. “I think it’s a good match” His wife continues “And they get along swimmingly”. He nods, they do get along well. There is a somewhat looming presence that can ruin this union. His brother’s second son.

He’s seen from the corner of his eye how the boy reacted at the mention of his daughter being married to another. 

The boy was infuriated. The whole clan of High-cunts were looking at him in pity. The boy has an obvious infatuation with his eldest daughter. He’s definitely going to be a fucking problem in the future. Wether, Jace and Dove marry or not. 

“No matter how much my little suvion dāria, values propriety, she will raise hell for us if she does not like this union” He says. Rhaenyra blinks at him with no words to say. He is right, they’d have to get the children to agree to the match. She’s sure Jace wouldn’t mind. Dove shall not, either. 

“Dove will become Lady Royce when she marries and so will her husband” The husband says, “As Jace is supposed to be a Targaryen on the throne. His children as well”. 

The woman heir nods, “Yes, but there is an easy solution to that. First child gets the throne with the name Targaryen and the second inherit’s Runestone with the name Royce. Like Luke with Driftmark”. 

Daemon nods, “We’ll discuss it with them when we send for Jacaerys”. The wife nods her head “They are to be going to Driftmark. We’ll send letters there for them to come straight to Kingslanding, after”. Daemons says, “Agreed” opening his book back up. Now, Rhaenyra has to wait for the children to agree, mostly Dove. The woman smiles,  She will agree, after all, her husband sitting on the Iron throne would make her the most powerful woman in the seven kingdoms.

•X•

Alicent walks down the halls in a rush to get to her chambers. It has been a trying day. She opens her door, in a slight tip toe because of her sore feet. She can sense the other person in here as she closes the door. Turning her head to find Lord Larys Strong at her table.

He sits with a slight hunch. His hands folded under his chin and he smiles his wide unsettling smile. “Lord Larys” She greets as she takes off her green heeled boots. “Your Grace” He greets back as she slips on her soft gold velvet slippers. “Is there something you want to discuss?” She asks staying where she is. 

She rather not be close to him just yet. “It’s been a strange few days” He says, his smile dropping and his eyes slowly looking around her room “Has it not”? Her eyes look him over, she does not answer him. “The Princess, a woman who is known for not taking responsibility is somewhat the mother come to life”. What? 

“I do not know what you talk of” She says, confusion clear on her face. He lets out a short chuckle “I’m sorry, your Grace. I was sure you knew of what I speak of. I know that worrying over Princess Rhaenyra’s life is one of your favorite pastimes”. The Queen stiffens, crossing her arms over herself tightly. 

“The Princess has taken a liking to one of the faces of God” He says, his eyes staring at her face making it hot “The mother”. Why would Rhaenyra be praying to the mother? She doesn’t even take to the seven gods. Her dragon is named after a Goddess of Old Valaryia. “What does this mean”?

The man shrugs “I’m not sure your Grace. The Princess has been spotted praying at the Sept this past week”. That shouldn’t mean anything. The King’s health has been declining as of late. No matter how defiant the Princess has been with her father, she does love him. Alicent can’t imagine Rhaenyra taking his departure easily.

“The Septon has been spotted talking to her today” He tells her “I can only imagine how that conversation went”. The woman’s arms unfold as her hands find each other. It did not go well she’s sure. Alicent takes in a deep breath. This fate of Rhaenyra and the throne is quite unknown. That’s when she realizes what the Princess is doing.

“She’s gathering support” She whispers, closing her eyes once more. “Thank you, My Lord” She says louder, “You may leave”. The crippled man does not get up however. “There is another topic I would like to discuss” He says, his smile leaving. “And what is that”? 

“The Princess’ stepdaughter” He says. Dove? What about her? “What about the Lady Dove?” She questions, the feeling of dread filling her blood. The air she once breath in having trouble escaping her.

 “Your Grace, what I’m about to say is quite sensitive” His eyes turning somewhat sympathetic, it’s false she knows it “There has been a rumor of Vhagar being spotted in the mountains of the Vale”.

Queen Alicent throat tightens yet she still manages to exhale out a breath. “The mountain where she has been spotted, happens to be close to Runestone” His eyes roam over the Queen, trying to see what she thinks of that information. The woman closes her eyes, nodding her head before opening them again. “Thank you, Lord Larys” She says, watching as his face somewhat falls “I will see to this immediately, as I’m sure you will see yourself out”. She doesn’t give him anytime to say anything else as she walks out her chambers.

On sore feet resting in soft velvet she rushes to the tower of the Hand. When she reaches his rooms she doesn’t wait to be announced. She knocks, announcing herself “Father, it’s me. Let me in”. Muffled behind the door he bid her to come in. “Your Grace” Her father greets looking up from his work, his brows furrowed in question. 

“Did you know Rhaenyra has been going to the Sept?” She closes the door behind her almost leaning on the against it. His eyebrow raises, signaling for her to elaborate. “She’s gathering support from the Faith” She says, plainly. Her father gives a half smirk as his eyebrow falls. “Trying” He corrects “She’s trying to gather support. She will not have it”. 

“How can you be so sure”? How can any of them be so sure. If Rhaenyra gives the faith what they want they will throw their support to her. Especially if she keeps up the charade of her actually being follower of the Seven. “Septon Eustance, is not a man so easily fooled” Lord Otto explains “She will never have the support of the faith”.

He’s right. Rhaenyra is too impudent with no bounds of respect for law and rules. She can fake all she want but the people know better. The Septon, knows better. “You’re right” She says, “It was a moment of fear. That is all”. Her father nods, he doesn’t go back to his work. 

His green eyes specked with gray roam over her face. “Is there something else?” He asks, eyebrow raising again. A moment of silence past before she speaks up. “Aemond was in fact spotted” She says, fiddling with fingers and looking down at them “At the Vale. Vhagar is hard to miss”. Otto Hightower says nothing for a moment his face looking to be in deep thought. 

“Was she spotted?” She shrugs at his question. “I don’t know” She admits “I hope, she wasn’t”. Her father seems to share her woes as a small smile makes its appearance. “This is quite damaging for a young girl” He states, “Even more when she is the Lady of her own keep”. The woman blinks at her father, mouth frowning at his words. 

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” She asks, her eyes widening in horror. He doesn’t, nod only blinks at her. “It’s a good match and Aemond would be happy for it and so would the girl—“. “I would have their reputations ruined over something so innocent” She defends, anger making its way into her blood. “Innocent, yes. Still a careless decision” He points out. 

“They’re children” She counters “With dragon’s blood as my husband would say. Yet, they didn’t do anything and they should not be punished”. The father sighs then gets up from his chair. “It is not a punishment” He says, shaking his head “Not for these two”. He’s right almost. Aemond would be happy with this arrangement.

From what she knows, Dove will as well. She may welcome this union if it was not for the circumstances. What will people think? At the supper with the Princess, she gushed about the girl and her son. What if Dove is not the proper girl, who valued Royce customs, she thinks she is. 

“It’s a good match” Her father says, persuading her. She blinks up at him a memory crossing her mind. “Viserys is quite taken with the idea of her and his grandson” She points out. Her father just smirks “An idea is not always turned into an option”. He walks closer to her, his smirk turning into a a small smile “I’m sure, you can persuade him on this”.

•X•

Sansa walks down the halls of Runestone to her chambers. Today she brought Rhaena to the Vale. The Lady Jeyne, welcomed her little Targaryen half-sister with open arms. Expressing how happy she is to have her there. Although, she expressed in a veiled way of how she wished it was Dove, who was fostering instead and even with. 

Sansa shrugged it off. The Eyrie is not a place she wants to be at. Though her heart longs for Winterfell, she rather not go there. Why step foot in a place where she left her family. A place that probably has a man who shares looks close to her father, half-brother, and sister. 

She read a letter not to long ago from the Princess Rhaenys. She has agreed to foster Luke. She also welcomes the idea of Dove and her knights coming to see him there. It’s all going well. Although, she has gotten no news from Rhaenyra or Daemon.

She’s optimistic however that everything is going smoothly. She opens her door and walks into her rooms. She doesn’t call for a maid, has been getting by without one. Walking to her mirror, she immediately takes out the braids in her hair. Unfastening her layered necklaces, taking off her rings, and earrings. 

Her bronze and silver dress is a simple one and easy to get out of. She will call for a bath however. With scorching hot water. Some days her body falls to a cold temperature. No matter how many furs, she wear she can never get warm. She despises bringing the temperature up with bathed but Daemon is not around and it’s to late to be with Lady.

Sansa folds her dress up and sets in on a chair nearby. That’s when she hears it. A slight scratching sound. She pauses turning her head slightly to get a good listen. ‘Chhh… chhh… chhhh’. 

It’s clear and even though it is distant it’s in her ear. She leans over the table and grabs the knife that was use to cut the hard meat she had as a snack, when she got back from the Eyrie. She holds on to it with a tight fist as she nears to the sound. It’s probably just a rodent but she can’t help but need the weapon. Sure enough when she kicks the basket of fabrics she’s yet to use, a big rat is behind it. 

Usually the creatures scurry off at being discovered. This one though stays still. It looks up at her with its beady black eyes. It stands on its hind legs and raises its front ones in a gesture. She’s seen the rodents do this before. 

This one does not do it naturally though. It’s almost as if it’s mimicking a real rat. It is a real rat though, the fur, body and eyes make that clear. Then Sansa narrows her eyes bending slightly. It eyes, they seem so familiar. 

She’s seen eyes like this before. So much like an animal but then again not. Her eyes widen and she jumps back shrieking in horror. She plunges her arm forward sending the knife. It makes a short jump then lands straight into the imposter’s back. 

The rat screams as blood jumps out of its wound, as the knife sinks in trapping it to the floor. She gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. She lets out a sob looking at the creature she accidentally killed. ‘How did that even happen’ She thinks, ‘It’s barely sharp’? Tears stream down her face as she looks into the eyes of the dead creature. 

It’s eyes are the ones of a rat now. She gasps once more. Someone was in that rat’s mind. Who, and why were they spying on her? She lets out a loud choking laugh. 

Letting the salt tears pour into her mouth as she does. 

> And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

 

Chapter 11: SMOKE V

Summary:

In 124 A.C. The Prince Lucerys is sent to Driftmark to foster.

Notes:

don't know where I am
I don't know this place
Don't recognize anybody
Just the same old empty face
See these people they lie, and I don't know- Just a game: Birdy

Daemon lands Caraxes on the hard rocky ground of the mountain. It is the earliest hours of the morning. The letter he had received by a bird at his chamber window peeked his interest. In the letter his eldest daughter had written in dark red ink. ‘URGENT COME’, with a location and so he wasted no time going to the dragon pit and mounting Caraxes.

His eyes immediately falling onto his daughter. Dove is leaning against Lady, one of her legs shaking uncontrollably. She looks a fright with her unbound hair cascading down in wolf waves. She’s wearing a under dress shift with no shoes on her feet.

Her eyes are wide as she stares out a the vastness with a blank stare. Tear streaks paint her face as a little splatter of blood paints the bottom of her shift. As well as her left foot. The father unmounts his dragon, walking to her like he’s approaching a wounded animal. “What is this?” He asks, “What happened”?

He gets no response from her, causing him to sigh. “Dove” He calls for her attention “Dove, look at me”! The bass of authority in his voice gets her attention. “I don’t know who it was” She tells him, her voice sounds so distorted. “You don’t know who what was?” He steps a little closer “Come on, talk to me”. 

The girl gives a shake of her head. “I don’t know who it was” She repeat, voice a little louder “What they wanted. What they were doing but they know”. Her voice cracks at the end then she looks at him with wider eyes. “I want to know who it was and what they wanted” It comes out steady but no more calmer than before. The father raises a pale eyebrow, who does she speak of?

“I do not have any clue of what you speak of” He says, “Who”? She scoffs as if she gave him any clue. “The one who was spying on me” She spits out, eyes narrowing in insult. Anger soars through Daemon’s vein hot and fast. Someone was spying on his daughter? 

For what? “Who?” His voice low and dangerous. His daughter scoffs once more as she shrugs almost sarcastically. “I do not know who” Her eyes narrowing once more “That is the issue”. Taking a deep breath, Daemon steps forward.

 “I will find out who it was, and then we will find out what they wanted” He declares bending his head some more to match her eyes. Sansa’s eyes dart back and forth across the man’s face. There is no lie to be detected in his voice, his words filled with determination and a burning passion for justice. For her.

She nods, letting out a small thank you. The father watches as his daughter gets herself back together. It should be alarming how fast she can gather herself during troublesome moments. However, Daemon is grateful that the girl has a strong hold on her emotions. It makes for a good quality in this hectic life.

“I will stay at Runestone for the night and fly back after I wake” He announces, straightening himself up. His daughter blinks up at him before she shakes her head. “You should head on back” She tells him “I’ll be fine. I would like it if you had some of your old city watch guard me. For extra protection”. His lips form a thin line, but he knows she is right. It’s best if he goes back to Kingslanding.

Then his eyes magically land back on the bottom of her night shift. “Whose blood is that?” He asks, inspecting the splatters on the fabric. It’s not a lot but still enough to question. “A rat’s” She answers plainly. 

He blinks at her, confusion plain on his face. “A rat’s?” He repeats, to which she nods and repeats. Does she mean an actual rat? If she does why the fuck is she killing animals? “Why the fuck did you kill a rat”? 

“It was an accident” She defensively answers “I threw a knife and it landed on it”. So she has terrible aim. That’s good to know. Daemon welcomes the pride he feels at his daughter has the instinct to fight when dangers around. “Next time make sure your target is what you want it to be” He rebukes sternly.

She did. His daughter’s eyes narrow at the insult. “Yes, father” She bites out sarcastically. The father nods his head letting out a huff. Since they’re standing here face to face he might as well tell her about coming to the Capital. “There is something else we need to discuss” He says, watching as his child’s eyes turn sharp with intrigue. 

“What might that be”? 

“There has been a change in plans” He states, “After Luke is delivered to Driftmark. You and Jace will be coming straight to the capital”. He waits for the snarky reply. Bracing himself for the little know-it-all’s insight. He does not receive what he is expecting. His daughter just blinks up at him with a blank expression. 

“Is Jacaerys going to be a ward of the Crown”? Of course she caught on to this quick. After a few days in the capital, sure enough she’ll know why she’s there too. “Is this the King’s doing”? It might be the day of her arrival actually. 

“Rhaenyra told him of the fostering and his Grace, thought it best if the future heir’s son was fostered at the Redkeep” Daemon tells her. Sansa nods at that, thinking it over. This is a bit of bump in her plan but it doesn’t make for a disaster. If she is to be in the capital as well, Aemond the one eyed will be distracted. She smiles softly at the thought of her Prince. 

“So this pleases you?” The father mistakes her expression to be related to the conversation. The daughter goes wide eyed for a second before shaking her head. “Um, it is not so bad” She tells him, her voice cracking out a squeak “We can work around that. It won’t dampen her in any way”.  He nods going over her words. “The Septon is a pain in the ass for her”. 

The girl lets out a snort “Well of course, like I told you he may never align himself with her”. Septon Eustance was noted of his account’s on the dance of dragons. From what she’s read and heard, he held no love for the Black Queen. “The Faith matters but the people can overshadow if done properly”. Daemon nods once more stepping backwards when a thought comes to him. 

His daughter was on this mountain before he got here. He doesn’t even know long she’s been out here. Isn’t there clans out here? “What are you doing out here like this? At this hour?” He asks, his authoritative tone clear in her ears. “Waiting for you” She responds quickly. 

“Your cousin has no guards posted on you”? Fear arises in her at the anger burning in his pale lilac eyes. “He does. I snuck out at my own accord and gave no knowledge to those in my household” She insists. She hopes that can placate any slight he feels towards this. As much as she appreciates his efforts to protect her, she would like for it to not cause her cousin a problem.

Daemon is not the worst man in the world. That is clear. Her Targaryen father would burn the down for his family. He has his faults and there are many things that keeps her distant from him. A far cry from Eddard Stark but that’s okay. 

In this life she doesn’t need an Eddard. 

“I will have my former gold cloaks protect you” He says, “And I want them with you day in and day out. If I get word that you are out of their sights, I will—“. “I understand” She interrupts, not wanting to hear the details of it. The father nods his head “You better”. She can’t help but to roll her eyes. Must he always try and have the last word? 

“I am staying at Runestone for the night” He tells her, he leaves no room to argue. She nods, walking over to Lady. When she reaches her dragon she turns her head back to her father. “The mountain clans can be quite fearsome and brave even” She says getting his attention. He raises a pale eyebrow in confusion. 

“You wonder how I was able to wait for you alone on this mountain” She reminds him, “Lady is all the warning they need”. She turns back to the gray beast and mounts her. Daemon does the same with the question of how ‘does his young daughter know what the clansmen fear’? As it is paired with how she got out of Runestone and how many times has she done this? 

When Daemon wakes the next morning the first thing he does after dressing, is seek out his daughter’s cousin. He finds the man who was granted as his daughter’s regent over himself. The tall tanned man with an angry scowl turns his face even more at the sight of him. “Prince” His greeting is spat out, diluted of respect. The Prince offers the man a small sarcastic smile, so much like his daughter’s before he grabs the man by his collar. 

“You may be wondering why I’m here” He half taunts with a snarl “Because you and the guards are fucking incompetent”. “Huh…how” The other man sputters out trying to take his hand off of his collar. The Prince only tightens the grip. “If I find out that someone is spying on my daughter again or that she is out of these walls without guards” He lowers his voice, making the next words even more menacing “Then that’s your fucking head”. The fair haired man lets the other man go in a harsh careless manner and walks out the hall. 

Leaving the other man clueless behind him. When he arrives back in Kingslanding he walks into his rooms to find his wife dressing the sons. She frowns when she sees him. “Where’ve you been?” Rhaenyra questions, standing from where she kneels in front of Aegon. He does not answer her just goes to the table, plopping down on a chair. 

His wife rolls her eyes turning her attention back on their son. “Don’t tell me then” He hears her mutter under her breath. He pauses as a memory replays in his head “Rhaenyra”. “Hmm” She hums  stuffing the toddler’s foot in a boot. “Who sent the spy who saw you when we were out” He asks in High Valaryian. 

His turns to face him a frown of confusion written all over her face. “Otto Hightower” She answers, plainly. Her eyes look him over trying to figure out his sudden interest for the past. That is all his needs to know.

•XI•

Sansa smiles sweetly at the older woman before her as she greets them. They have just arrived at Driftmark to drop Luke off. Her mind is drifting off to many things. The spy, the conversation with Daemon, Cousin Gerold, it goes on. She’s been so distracted lately, she hasn’t even told Jace or cousin Gerold about Kingslanding. 

“Did you all have a safe trip?” The Princess Rhaenys asks. She is dressed in the Velaryon house colors with a black Targaryen sigil stitched above her left breast. Her fading black hair is pulled back, bunned with a solf velvet seashell wrapped around it. Her little half sister Baela stands beside her grandmother. She wears the Velaryon house colors as well.

Her hair is out of it’s locced state and braided back with pearls intertwined in them. With small porcelain seashells hanging from small gold hoops attached.  Sansa’s hair is entrapped in the dark brown hair wrap women in the Vale, North, and Stormlands wear to protect their styles from the weather. Her dress is quite drab compared to theirs as well. It makes her a little self conscious.

“We traveled well” She answers the woman “Thank you for asking”. “I actually enjoyed the ship” Luke says, beside her in a nervous voice “Didn’t get sick like I thought I would”. She sees the older woman give an almost tight lipped smile to the boy. “Well that’s good to hear” The Princess says , though what feels like concern lingers in the air around them.

“Let me show you to where you will be sleeping” She announces after a brief pause “Then we’ll eat. I am sure you are all very hungry”. The older woman stands up with an inviting smile. 

Shortly after being shown to the room she’ll be staying in for the next two days, Sansa seeks out Jace. She finds him in his room with his younger brother Luke. She knocks on the open door getting their attention. “May I come in” She asks. The boys nod their heads nodding her in. 

The girl walks into the room closing the door behind her. “So” She starts, walking closer to their place on the bed “How do you like it”. The younger boy gives her a nervous look, shrugging his shoulders. “I know this seems scary being away from everyone but you are surrounded by family” She assures him with a gentle smile and touch on the shoulder. 

His eyes shine with a plain truth. He does not take her words to be as encouraging as she presents them. “Grandmother feels otherwise” He whispers, “I don’t know why I’m here” His voice louder than before. “You are to be Lord of Driftmark one day” She begins, the speech she is about to voice is cut short by the younger boy’s words. “I do not want to be Lord” So honest, these words are. 

Though this world does not care for wants. Wishes are just that, wishes. Something you want and hold close to your heart with no certainty that you will gain it. Sansa knows of this all to well. 

Life is not a song, sweetling. You will learn that one day to your sorrow. 

And she did. In fact she’s learning every day. She takes the hand of the boy, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You are brave” She says, encouragingly “And you can be just as brave as Jace. Sometimes fear can make you just as strong as it can make you weak”. Jace puts his hand over her’s that still rest atop of his brother’s. “You will be fine, because you are smart and determined” He adds, with his blinding smile “Bravery can be faked. I don’t think anyone can fake being smart”.

Sansa chuckles at his words “He is right. I was wrong. You don’t have to be brave”. The look that Lucerys gives her calls her naive. She tries not to flinch at the sight. “There is no matter on being brave” He admits in a sullen tone “I do not want to be Lord because it means death for my grandfather and what if I’m not good”?! Her heart clenches at his words.

The desperation that is held in them is all so familiar. “Then you have to strive for it” She says, giving him an encouraging smile. “Which I am sure you will be” The older brother says, patting the younger brother on his shoulder “Besides, we’re all here for you”. The exchange makes her smile brighter. It’s like her brothers are in front of her. 

She enjoys the moments of admiration and support. It reminds her of back home. Though, sometimes she feels a stranger to it. “Thank you, Jace” Luke says, “That means a lot”. 

•XI•

Aemond’s heart clenched as he read Dove’s letter. She asked him to go to their mountain as soon as possible. Is she alright? Did something happen? The thought of something bad happening to her frightens him.

That’s why the thought of her wanting him to come to her in an hour of need is overshadowed. Without any hesitation, he quickly dresses to ride and flies away from King's Landing. The conversation he had with his mother after the last visit decides to replay in his mind. Hopefully, no one will spot him going to or being in the Vale. For his and Dove’s sake.

When he arrives at their shared sacred site, he finds his cousin is already here. She must of been here for a while. Due to her rubbing her hands down her heavy cloth arms. She is not facing him but he knows, she knows he’s arrived. “Dove” He calls out to her after landing Vhagar.

The girl turns to face him with a blank expression. Aemond jumps of his green dragon making his way to his cousin. Her eyes dull and watery as they watch his steps. “What is it?” He asks, his voice tightening with anger. She shakes her head to tell him nothing is wrong. 

He knows better, however. While most won’t blink an eye at her given to her still well put appearance. Though under her wool head cover he knows her hair is wild and untamed. Her nails are grown out and her hands bare red finger marks.  She is in distress which means something is wrong.

“Dove, what is it?” He asks again, his question coming out like a command. She blinks at him as if trying to keep tears from coming. Out of instinct he steps forward bringing a hand to rest on her shoulder. Sansa doesn’t know why this gesture makes the dam behind her eyes break. Yet, she does not question it. 

All the tears she kept in come pouring out. Before any of them know it she is pressed against his chest bawling. Her knuckles turn white from her clinging on his flying coat. The fear that has been building for the past two weeks has reached its peak. There’s nothing she can do but let the tears flow.

Aemond loses his rigidness to wrap his arms around her as she cries. “What was that?” He asks after she mumbles into his chest. She pulls away quickly turning away from him. She fiercely wipes the tears from her face. “I have no idea why I’m crying” She lets out a watery chuckle “It’s stupid, really”. 

“Is it?” It doesn’t seem so. She turns to face him and shrugs. “What is the matter?” He asks once more “Tell me”. His cousin’s head turns left then right rapidly as if she’s trying to spot a spy. She turns to face him eyes now dry yet the suspicion still gleams bright. 

Sansa looks the boy over. It’s Aemond, he can keep her secret. He can help her catch who was spying on her. With a sister like Helaena surely he’ll understand.  “You have to promise you won’t tell anyone” She says, making the boy scrunch his face in confusion. 

It’s vague enough to make him want to not make it. Though he can’t really help himself when it comes to her, can he? “I promise” He swears, his face hardening with seriousness. The girl breathes in deeply listening to the wind pick up. “Before we went to Driftmark. I was in my bedchambers getting ready for the night and I caught someone spying on me”. 

An ugly pit forms inside of him at her words. A feeling he has never felt before, until now. He opens his mouth but his cousin stops him from talking by shaking her head. “That’s not all” Her voice trembles “They ran off, before I knew who it was”. She pauses for a moment looking him up and down, a flash of uncertainty comes across her face.

“I know what they are”.

What? What does that mean? “What do you mean?” His voice tight as his watery eye watches her intensely. “Do you know what a Skinchanger is?” She asks him, stepping back further from him. He recalls reading a book about them in some Northern tales. 

So he nods. His cousin inhales a sharp breath as she begins to pace. Back and forth he watches her go “They were in there”. Her voice a frantic whisper as she rubs at her hand vigorously “They’ve seen me”. Back and forth, she went as she rambled. 

He calls her out to her. Saying her name, nickname, and even demanding for her to stop. She abruptly stops after a few more words. Her eyes wider than ever. “They know what I am”.

“What?” He can’t comprehend what she means. Sansa blinks up at Aemond trying to keep the tears at bay. She needs to keep her composure. “Be brave Sansa” she thinks “like Jace”. Like Aemond.

“I have the blood of the first men in me” She tells him “And with that blood comes a gift”. Aemond’s face turns up in confusion at words. He opens his mouth to ask what that meant. What was the gift? The words were right there, ready to slide off his tongue.

They stick to his throat unable to come up when her eyes change color. More like the color is drain from them. Her once beautiful irises are over taken by the simplicity of white. His eye grows wide as a memory flashes in his mind. Showing him that he’s seen this before from her. 

The memory he suppressed so long ago comes to life before him. Along with the goose pimples he developed before. That is not all the screeching of a bird catches his attention. The animal soars above him, flapping it’s brown wings as he stares up at it wide eyed. The bird flips around itself before it shoots down and lands on Dove’s outstretched arm.

His cousin’s eye’s turn back to their respective colors and she blinks at him. “Skinchanging is the ability that is inherited” She says, petting the bird “With this ability I can see what I miss with my own eyes. I can fly, run, jump. I can be free”. He blinks at her a few times, trying to comprehend what she’s saying and what is happening all at once. She looks down at the bird then at him “Hold your arm out”. “What?” Before he can blink the bird is rushing at him at full speed. 

Aemond yelps, jumping back. His hand flies to his sword as he stumbles on clumsy feet. The animal is flapping it’s wings just a few feet from him. Their eyes stare at one another. The boy’s eye looks to his cousin who is looking at him through these yellow eyes.

The Prince looks back at the bird and holds his arm out, letting it fly to and land on him. He lets out a shaky breath looking back his cousin. A moment or two pass before the bird takes off. When he meets his cousin’s eye’s again they are back to their original colors.

“H… how did… you do that?” He questions in a rushed panic. “Because I am a skinchanger” She tells him casually with a shrug. “B..but how—“. “How can you fly a dragon? It’s just how it is” She walks over to him grabbing his hands in her own “I wanted to share this with you”. His heart skips a beat at her words. 

“But you must not tell anyone of what I am” She warns “It is dangerous”. The Prince nods his head “Of course I won’t tell anyone I swear”. The little Lady nods her head “Thank you, cousin”. A moment of silence goes by before she speaks again “The one who was spying on me used a rat”. The boy cousin’s eye narrows “You believe there is another like you”.

“I know” She says, her tone harsh “I recognized them. Just like I know they know about me”. She just wishes she knew who it was. “There are plenty of people with the blood of the first men” Aemond recalls “It will be hard to narrow down”. Sansa pauses staring at him. A brave Prince.

“I just wanted to share this with you” She tells him, “You should not get involved”. Rage flashes across his face “Why not”?! The girl sighs, shaking her head. A different type of fear fills her mind with ugly thoughts. Why did she tell him?

She wants to keep him alive and then she goes and puts him in danger. “It’s nothing, I was just scared and I wanted to tell you” She says, “It’s nothing”. It is something, he can tell. “Promise me you will let this go” She pleads “Please”. The Prince stares down at the Lady with an unreadable expression. 

“Aemond” She tugs at his hands. Staring down at her, remembering how she cried in his arms. How can he let it go? Let the person who made the one so dear in his heart cry, go. Aemond closes his eye and leans in giving her a kiss on her forehead.  

“I promise” he mutters, for the second time tonight. Only he’s not sure he can keep this one.

> But there comes you to keep me safe from harm
There comes you to take me in your arms

Notes:

AA/N: On Tumblr there is an account called Dreams of dany and they have post of hair studies of the regions in asoiaf. I love it and will use it. There is another account called 15-lizards, they did hair pieces and dresses and styles that they believed for into the regions of Asoiaf.

Onto Warging/Skinchangers. The skin changers that go into dogs and wolves are called wargs. I’ll be using it interchangeably. Greenseers and Skinchangers are two different things. Not all skinchanger’s are greenseers only one in a thousand are born. All the Stark children are wargs but only Bran is a greenseer. I’m not making Larys or Sansa greenseers.

Also wargs are scary and I see why the seven kingdoms feel the way they do about them. The free folk fear them but they are also honored beyond the wall. I think the Stark children are special because they have Direwolves which are magical creatures by themselves. Which makes me see more and more parallels between the Starks and Targaryen’s.

There are three big no-no’s when it comes to skinchanging. One don’t mate with animals inside an animal. Two don’t eat human meat in an animal. And three the worst of them all, never jump into the mind of another human. (Which I think all the Stark children will commit at least one of these).

There is more like what it’s like for a skinchanger in different animals but we’ll get to that in later chapters.

I couldn’t decide between a hawk or falcon for Sansa so I’ll use bird until I do. Oh and House Strong does have blood of the first men and more likely they converted into the faith.

Chapter 12: SMOKE VI

Summary:

In 124 A.C. The Prince Jacaerys and his stepsister the Lady Royce land in the capital. The same year the Lady of Runestone meets the High Septon.

Notes:

So homesick and confused
But I know I must play my part
And tears I must conceal- Just a game: Birdy

A creaking of Aemond’s bedroom door opening causes him to open his eye. He turns in his bed looking towards the door with an irritated sigh. The hour is quite late and he was not expecting nor wanting company. “Oh, yes. Come in” He mutters sarcastically rubbing his eye. His mother walks into his room with a quick step closing the door behind herself.

“Mother?” He sits up “What are you doing here at this hour”? Queen Alicent gives a shake of her head walking towards his bed. “I needed to speak with you” She says, “About something… important”. Aemond sits up straighter taking his grand duvet off himself and going to the edge of his bed. “What is it”?

His mother sits down beside him grabbing his hand into her own. “Your nephew and cousin will be coming on the morrow” She says, giving him a gentle squeeze. He knows and after his last talk with Dove he is looking forward to seeing her again. “How would you like to be the Lord of Runestone?” His mother’s voice is a whisper and her eyes dart over his face. His cousin is the Lady of Runestone and as far as he knows he has no Royce blood.

How can he be the Lord of the keep? His eye looks over his mother’s face as she stares at him. That’s when it dawns on him. He shares no blood with the Royce’s on his own but his children can. Through his half Royce cousin.

A marriage with Dove. He pulls his hand slightly in insult. What is his mother playing at? Daemon is not one for rules, he will object. “This is no jest” His mother insists pulling his hand back towards her “I promise you this. Your father will see to it”. 

“Like he’s seen to Aegon being King?” He shoots out, watching as his mother takes the insult with no grace. The mother flinches at the insult, anger flashing in her hazel eyes. “It will take time for him to see to correct his mistake” She says, with prideful contempt “This however is different”. He raises an eyebrow “How so? You were opposed by the idea of us marrying. Now you want us to join our lines? Why”? Alicent lets out a sigh looking down to their joined hands.

She knew he would question it. In the past she has not been so eager at the prospect of her son marrying Daemon’s daughter. It is a good match however and she counts their friendship as a bonus. “You have been spotted” She whispers, eyes shining with fresh tears “In the Vale. People know”. There is a pregnant pause as Aemond processes her words.

People know of that visit, it won’t be long until they find out about this recent one. Will they know the details of their conversation? That makes his heart squeeze. How could he be so selfish that he put his happiness over Dove’s safety. “Is she in trouble?” His voice sounds small, as it cracks out his question. 

His mother shakes her head with a shrug. “I’m not sure” She confesses, “She will be however…. But we can fix this”. “Ha…how? If the word spreads she’s….”. Alicent places her hands on both sides of her son’s face to calm him. “I know. I know. This is why you two will be married” She points out “And your children will inherit Runestone. As is their right. You will be a Lord of your own keep—“. 

The boy scoffs interrupting his mother “It’s my wife’s keep”. The mother nods, “You’re right. It is her keep but as her husband what’s her’s is your’s. That’s how marriage works. The good one’s at least”. ‘What do you know of a good marriage’ He thinks with pity. He scoffs at the thought of his parent’s marriage. His will never be like that.

Especially if it is with Dove. 

“When will we marry?” He asks after a moment. “Soon, maybe next year when she is guaranteed to have bled” She tells him shifting uncomfortably “Perhaps there will be a delay but you will be betroth”. Aemond nods at her words, letting the giddiness he feels over take him. 

•XII•

Daemon stands in the courtyard with his wife, Rhaenyra and their children. The sounds of hooves hitting pavement and wheels turning are heard throughout the open space. The King wanted to join them in greeting the children. He must not have been able too, seeing how it’s only the Prince and his household out here.  The Prince’s eye’s look up to at the clear sky as the beasts Lady and Vermax soar through it.

His daughter does not allow her mount to be chained in the dragon pit. No doubt, his stepson would follow her lead. Jacaerys rides through the gate with two guards dress in bronze armor behind him. The boy mounts a golden destier. Dressed in leather leggings and chain mail with a black wool cloak around him, he still manages to look like a young Prince.

The big bronze runed wheelhouse rides in afterward. Sansa looks out of the small hole designed in the carriage like a window. Her eyes spot, the Prince Daemon standing with his wife. She sucks in a breath sharply. He’s pissed, he does not show it but he is.

At her situation and her as well. She did not head straight to Kingslanding after Driftmark as it was planned. Instead she opted to go back to Runestone. Just to to be greeted by her crossed cousin who Daemon threatened. Seems as if she can’t stay out of trouble.

She’s not sure if she can even consider herself to be a a wicked as Arya. Daemon may have appreciated if she were like her younger sister. Perhaps if she were Baela or Rhaena, he wouldn’t even blink an eye. Sometimes she feels as if he makes her out to be more than just a girl. That’s why it never ends well when she behaves like one.

The door to wheelhouse opens as she is announced. The young Lady steps down from the carriage with the last bit of courage she can manage for now. While Jacaerys dismounts his destier walking towards his mother with barely congealed-excitement. The Lady of Runestone will not chastise the Princeling for his lack of propriety. She can not blame him for being a child.

“Lady Dove” Her, Targaryen father greets coolly “Welcome back to the Capital my Lady”. 

•XII•

“What the fuck did I tell you” She knew it was coming but the harsh tone makes her flinch anyway. Sansa blinks up at her Targaryen father, Daemon as he rounds next to her after closing the door to his chambers. “To journey here after the visit at Driftmark” She repeats his previous instructions. “And what did you do?” He questions, his left hip popping out as his hands fold on top of Dark-sister. “I turn the course towards my home, Runestone” She confesses, looking at down at her hands.

The red finger marks of where she rubs, begin to show. “So you deliberately disobeyed me? And dragged Jacaerys along with you” His head tilting to the side. “I was going to tell you” She insists, her tummy turning at the disappointment in his eyes. “Yet, you didn’t” He points out. “I just needed—. 

“I don’t care” Daemon interrupts, watching as his child goes wide eyed. His pale lilac eyes look his eldest girl up and down, shaking his head with a sigh. “I am sure you had your reasons” He says, “It does not matter. When I say I want you to do something, I expect you to do it. You may go”. He dismisses her not sparing her another glance. 

It’s his own fault really. He has given his eldest, too much leeway. Now she holds the belief that she doesn’t need his authority. She is intelligent and independent, capable of taking care of herself. He knows and he lets her, that is where she is sorely mistaken. 

“Yes, father” As the young Dove opens the door she finds his wife behind it. “Oh, Dove” Rhaenyra offers the girl a smile “I was hoping you were still here”. The woman walks into the room closing the door behind herself. Daughter looks to father, for permission to stay. Who grants it with a nod. 

“What do you want to speak about?” Sansa sniffs, discreetly wiping her eyes. “The High Septon, that man is an irritant” The woman spits out, walking to the settee “I do not think I can take anymore of his veiled insults”. The girl nods, following the woman to where she sits down. “It’s going to be hard but I’m sure you can power the this”  She says, sitting down across from her. The woman scoffs shaking her head.

“What of the small folk?” She asks, switching the subject “What do they think of you”? The stepmother shrugs her shoulders “I do not know. I’ve been preoccupied”. “What have you been doing?” She makes sure the question comes out as genuine as she wants it to.  The woman heir sighs, “I have not been able to do much. I went to an orphanage and made sure I seen tending to the children and I even bought an apple from a vendor in Flea-bottom”. 

Sansa nods her head, taking in the woman’s words. “That’s a start but not enough” She says, “it’s been a moon and you have nothing to show for it”. The woman heir’s eyes narrow. ‘How dare she think me too simpleminded’ She thinks. “I would have been ruling in the stead of my father and back on the small council if it weren’t for his insufferable Hand, Otto Hightower” She defends herself “The man watches me as his daughter does. Hawks those two are. What am I to do? When they constantly blow out every candle I light”?

‘You can play the same game’ The girl thinks ‘But better’. If the Greens are insisting on usurping the throne then maybe it is time for a harsh lesson. Make  the grounds on which they wish to lay the foundation of Aegon’s reign shaky. She remembers the bread riots, what happened to Lollys Stokeworth. What could’ve happened to her. 

How when Margaery and the Tyrells came to the capital the people sung their high praises. The Tyrells who came to the capital from their very fertile land. The same land the Hightower’s are from, yes. Though that can also work in favor of done right. Sansa shakes her head to remove the cruel thoughts.

No, she will not use the small folk as pawns. She wants to keep, Lady and her alive. If she were to do it and she failed it could have serious repercussions. “What is it?” Rhaenyra questions. The girl shakes her head once more, “Nothing, Princess”. 

The woman heir nods her head then raises her eyes to meet her husband’s. Daemon shakes his head ‘no’ letting her know it’s not the time to present the idea of marriage. She looks back her stepdaughter, who looks to be lost in thought. So strange, usually the girl is collected, sharp. She’s off today.

Maybe it’s the journey. Maybe it’s what ever her husband was crossed at her about. She wants to ask the girl if she’s alright. Though knowing Dove, the young Lady will brush it off and give her a fake smile with the words ‘I’m Fine’. So, she decides against it and says “What am I to do?” instead.

Her words seem to snap the girl out of her reverie. “You just stay with Jace today but do attend court” The girl tells her standing up “I will try to seek out the High Septon. He may take to misguided child more than a willful woman”. 

•XII•

Sansa walks down the long staircase entrance of the Sept. Her body goes stif with each step down. Looking around the place of worship her heart squeezes in her chest. It’s been so long since she step foot in a Sept.

The Sept of Baelor is larger than this Sept here. Grander as well. However, after all that has happened there, Sansa would take this one over the other. She steps off the stairs her eyes darting around the place. The differences of each Sept are pointed out in her mind.

The statue’s of the seven are smaller here. They’re pushed against walls, practically carved from them, in different corners of the building. A heptagon, entirely. While the Great Sept of Baelor was more rounded out. She scoffs, at the memory of that place.

“I take it you don’t believe in the gods” A deep voice says, behind her. Sansa turns around to meet an old tall frail looking man. The High Septon, Eustance, in the flesh. The little Lady, straightens herself then curtsy’s “Your Holiness”. The man follows suit by giving a bow “My Lady”. 

He straightens back up, his eyes look her over. “I take to the Old Gods” She tells him, completely ignoring his comment “Though there was a time I prayed to the seven”. She sees the spark of interest flash in his eyes. “What made you stop? If I may ask” He steps an inch closer. “Yes, you may” She grants, then gives him a small smile “I don’t think I know the reason why. It just happened”. 

He gives a shake of his head. “No, one does not just stop” He says, “There has to be a reason”. There is no room to argue. It will not be wise either. So she nods her head feigning the look of need of guidance. 

“I guess, I just never got guidance” She says, “No one in my life worship the seven. Children do follow the guidance of elders”. The Septon nod, “Yes, they do and it’s up to the adults to provide the necessary information and support”. On that, they can agree. Though, she’s not sure if she has an adult like that in her life. Besides, Gerold perhaps but even he is not a guarantee.

The young girl nods her head “I agree”. She turns her head to the side hoping to give him the hint that she is done with the conversation. “I believe in the seven because I was proven time and time again that men are a problem” Eustance says, making her turn her head once more “They need saving”. And were you saved? She wants to ask but she just nods. 

The young Lady turns her head once more staring at the statue of the mother. ‘Gentle, mother’ She thinks, bitterly ‘Why didn’t you grant me mercy’? “I see you and your cousin, the crown Princess have something in common” Septon Eustance says with a bored tone. She turns her head to him and asks “What do you mean”?

“Your cousin…. Good-mother I mean” The frail old man drags out blinking slowly “She takes to the mother, has been here everyday since her arrival. Along with two visits to the orphanage. Say’s her father’s declining health has  caused her to be a believer”.

Sansa blinks at the man her eyes darting over his face. It’s clear that he feels as if she is is using the gods as a way to gain his support. Which she is. However there is a part of him that believes or wants to at least, Rhaenyra is genuine. It fills her with glee. 

“Friends are hard to come by. Family’s their handed” She says, with a small smile “Some are not lucky. I had no idea she started praying and visiting orphanages”. His Holiness, looks her up and down, dark brown eyes assessing her. “You sound as if you believe this to be a bad deal” He says. “Desperate” She corrects, “The Gods had made their decision”. The Septon’s eyes widen a bit, “And you given up hope”?

If she had given up hope, she would not be here in Rhaenyra’s favor. She wouldn’t be worrying tirelessly for the safety of everyone. The young Lady shakes her head, “I can never give up”. A chill runs down Sansa’s spine as the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She does not have to turn her head to know who it is that lurks around the corner. 

The young Lady, straightens her back, lifting her head high with a natural poise. “It is funny” She muses, “How the Gods can see it all” She looks towards the mother’s statue “The beginnings of life” then to the stranger’s “And the end of it. It is all witnessed behind these walls. In this building”. 

The frail old Septon Eustance, with hallowed dark eyes and so much to say is at a lost of words. It’s about time, she is done speaking to him. Now on to the next. “Weddings, funerals both have such a finality to them. Don’t you think?” She watches as the Septon opens his mouth to speak but her next words stop him “Lord Larys”? 

The clinking of his cane and metal clad foot dragging against the marble floor makes her cringe. She does not turn her head to face the man behind her. “Lord Strong” The Septon greets him and bows. “Your High Holiness” Larys greets back with a bow of his head “may you excuse the Lady Targaryen and I”? The Septon nods, giving a bow to the both of them and taking his leave. 

That’s when the young Lady turns to face the crippled Lord. “Good afternoon” She greets, then curtsy’s “My Lord”. The man hums in satisfactory as he watches her straighten herself up. “My Lady” He bows his head “Good afternoon to you as well”. “Should we speak here or…” She trails off, staring at his cold eyes that stare right back at her.

Then she knew. Why he felt so familiar. “It was you” She mutters. “Yes it was” He does not deny or have her oblige. So she begins to walk with hopes that he would follow her. So he can explain to her why he was spying on her. 

Sansa stops walking when there is not more space to and turns to face Larys. “Did you know about me?” She asks, when he comes closer “Before you came to me that night. Did you know what I was… what I am”? The man nods, “Yes I did”. She suck in a sharp breath “So why did you spy on me? If you already knew there should be no reason for you to change”. The man lets out a chuckle “I do not need reason to change. Just like you don’t need reason to fly your great gray beast”. 

“Lady will not have us hunted the way changing will” She points out, anger rising inside her. “You worry over me?” It’s a smug as his smirk. She gapes at him for a second before rolling her eyes. Men and their egos. A perfect example of time never granting change. 

“What you did can put us both in danger” She scoffs, shaking her head in annoyance. “And are we in danger, my Lady”? Is he mocking her? “We will be if you keep at it” She warns, looking over her shoulder. The building is empty from what is shown to her eyes. Yet, this is not the place to have this conversation.

“I’ve walked these halls, these streets” He recalls, “Such a time it was. Things that others wonder over, I’ve witnessed. I’ve died more than I can remember as I have lived twice than that. Trust me my Lady there is no danger”. 

Sansa blinks at the man before taking in his words. She’s died only two times, it’s hard to forget. She relives it, sometimes. In her dreams, she can feel Lady leave her or the sharp blade piercing her. Nothing can ever make her forget the cold.

She must’ve been lost deeply, it took Larys to call out her name three times to bring her back. “I can’t trust that it’s too much of a gamble” She says, thickly, after clearing her throat. He nods his head then tilts it “Everything is, my Lady. Shying away will not change it”. He’s right, it will not but embracing it is worst. 

“Why”? 

What does she mean? Why did he look upon her with those set of eyes? Why does he seek her out? Why does he want her to fully except and explore what she is? Why not?

The Lord Larys Strong does not say these words out loud to the Lady. He knows better. He has been watching her for a time. He’s gathered all that is need to know. Now it’s just her.

“You remind me of a Winter Rose” He says, after a long heavy silence “I’ve only had the pleasure of seeing them once”. One of his hand reaches out to stroke her cheek. Sansa stiffens under his touch, at his words, his stare. They flower he speaks of grow in the glass garden of Winterfell. Her aunt, the late Lady Lyanna Stark loved the Winter Roses. 

“They’re beautiful” She utters in a soft voice. The Lord nods “Yes, they are. In color” his hand moves to stroke just under her right eye “And in temperament”. The Winter Rose’s bloom once a year and they survive throughout the winter. They practically thrive in it. This girl can survive the harshest of winter’s, he knows it. Maybe it’s because she’s a cold little thing.

So cold, like her skin is made of ice. Maybe it’s because she’s been in this building for a while. He moves his hand to touch her silky hair. It runs over the part that’s equal parts copper and silver.  A Winter Rose indeed.

“Such a rarity” He admires, as he pulls his hand away. “You think I’m a rarity?” She questions as her eyes narrow in suspicion. The man smiles a wide smile “I’ve seen you. Birds, a feat that is not easy to combat. You, however, you were what? Seven…. Eight? And a dragon-rider? A rarity indeed”. 

Sansa knows the question he’ll ask next. So as fast as her heart is beating she says “Rats are intelligent creatures. Every animal is, in there own way. Are rats as easy as dogs”? The man blinks at her, he knows what she’s doing. He plays her game, though. After all he is a man of patience. 

“Rats live in castles. They see a lot with their eyes. They can slip in and out of anywhere” He explains to her “And they’re easy. A bit a food, quietness. You got them”. Good to know. “There were no rats at Runestone. The catchers captured them all in the year 105. Found all their hiding places and sealed them. The only way it was there because you planted it”. 

Lord Larys sighs, leaning forward on his cane. “You understand why I did it” He says, “Don’t play fool, little Dove”. Sansa goes rigid at the name, tears instantly sting her eyes. “You and I, we’re alike. We know what…” She jumps back as he tries to touch her shoulder “Dove”. “Do not touch me” She sneers, “And don’t call me, Dove”. 

“My Lady, what ever this animosity between us is, I assure you it can dissipate the moment I am able to apologize properly”. He straightens himself and breathes in heavily. Her eyes narrow at him, her hand reaches to rub her signet ring. “What’s stopping you from doing so now?” She questions. He sighs, “My words fall flat. My actions however will not”. 

What is that supposed to mean? “And what is this action?” She asks raising an eyebrow “What can you do that’ll possibly alleviate this tension”? Larys gives her a smirk, “You already know the answer to that, sweetling”. The air in her lungs in blown out sharply. Her palms and forehead go slick with cold sweat at the term of endearment. “If you wish for me to not tell my father, you will never change to look upon me again” She says “Have a good day, Lord Larys. It was a lovely chat”. 

She bows her head slight then turns on her heels heading to the entrance with rushes steps. The Lord of Harrenhall sighs watching her leave. She’s young and terrified. He does not hold any blame towards her for her reluctance. Soon she’ll realize that he is right. 

He’s always right. 

The Lord Larys looks to his right at the statute carved into the wall. The goddess: the maiden. He chuckles looking at the marble woman. In the end Larys always gets what he wants. 

•XII•

Sansa rounds the corner of the keep wiping at her eyes. Larys, that cretin. He’s going to get them both killed. Every time she makes a step forward someone  does some go set her back. It’s like these people feed off of their chaos.

They can be as chaotic as they like as long as the don’t drag her into it. Yet, no one in this realm has a choice but to be dragged into it. Today has been a trying day of emotions. She, however, is lucky because she has someone who will bring her spirits up. “Aemond” She calls out knocking on his bedchamber door.

“Come in” She hears a feminine voice call out to her. She frowns wanting to flee but her curiosity gets the better of her. She opens the door walking into Aemond’s chambers to find Helaena. Her Targ-tower cousin is sitting on the floor of her brother’s room with a babe on her lap. A woman that Sansa can only  assume is a wet nurse sits with another babe on her own. 

Taking in the scene and realizing who they are Sansa squeals. The mother giggles as her cousin asks “Are these the twins”? She nods, saying “You want to hold them”? The younger girl nods her head making her way over to where their sitting. When she sits down next to the mother, she holds out her arms eager to hold one of the babes. 

Helaena, proudly holds up the baby that was in her lap “This is Jahaerys, my son and my younger”. She stretches her arms out carefully placing the baby in the others arms. Sansa smiles down at the sleeping babe before her. He looks like his mother. Oh, how precious.

“He will be the sweetest men around” She muses, “As fierce as well”. The mother giggles, “He already is”. Sansa looks up at her cousin, detecting the hint of sadness in her voice. She raises a brow to which her cousin shakes her head and says, “It’s nothing. Just the world is cruel and as a mother you will think of this a lot”. She nods her head and looking back down at the baby.

“It’s funny” The mother says after a while “You don’t think about it much until after they are in your arms and it’s too late”. Catelyn loved her. She knows it, even thinks as if she can feel it. Her late mother’s love. The ever burning flame.

Love no one but your children.

A hard lesson for Sansa to learn is that no one will love her for her. She is only desired for her claim. In this life it will not be different. She has the blood of the First Men and Old Valaryia, she’s a dragon rider and best of all Lady of her own keep. Any and Every Lordling will be thrown at her. 

Their father’s eager for the fountain of fortune that will be bestowed on them. A terrible thought. An ugly reality. She looks up at the mother who is admiring the scene before her. “Is it all you had hoped it would be”? 

Helaena’s smile widens as she nods. “And so much more”.

> And now I know my place
We're all just pieces in their games

Notes:

The Winter Rose is associated with Starks and may have indications of loss of innocence. Lady Lyanna loved the smell of the roses and Ned and Theon both vision her dead with the petals around her and the flowers in a crown on her. The Winter Roses could also been the type of flowers that were on the crown Rhaegar gave to Lyanna. Jon talks about the roses with Ygritte who took his virginity. There is also a take of a singer named Bael who rode to Winterfell and sung to the Lord. The lord gifted him a winter rose because Bael requested for the most beautiful rose in winterfell as payment for his singing. The morning after the single virgin daughter of the lord had disappeared. In her bed was the rose Bael had gotten from her father.

Chapter 13: SMOKE XIII

Summary:

In 124 A.C The Queen Alicent Hightower, makes a play.

Notes:

You thought you could go free
But the system is done for - Blood//Water: Grandson

Queen Alicent Hightower stands regal under the throne. To her left is her stepdaughter, the Crowned Heir Rhaenyra Targaryen. Two women, one Queen, the other a Princess. One dressed in dark green head to toe with glitters of gold jewelry. The other dressed in a shade of purple with glitters of a dark metal only known as Valaryian steel. 

Underneath the Queen is her sworn shield, Ser Criston Cole. Underneath the Princess is the Lord Commander of the Kings-guard, Harrold Westerling. Right next to that man is the Princess’s first born son, Jacaerys Velaryon. The Prince of house’s Velaryon and Targaryen is dressed in his father’s house colors with glitters of pearls. Behind them all sits the King, Viserys Targaryen, dressed in the colors of his House. 

Although the King has had a steep decline in his health, he still sits on his throne to conduct court. It won’t last long, though. Soon, he’ll be bedridden, then who will sit the throne in his stead. His Hand, Otto Hightower or his Heir, Princess Rhaenyra? A question that racks her mind as of late. 

The Queen sigh’s inwardly at the thought her hazel eyes moving among the crowd. Her gaze stops on the Lord Larys of House Strong. The man is staring, the same stare that was once reserved for her. Her eyes move to land on the Lady Dove of Houses Royce and Targaryen. The young girl is standing by her father, the Royal Consort Prince Daemon. 

The Prince is dressed in his usual black, though today he’s paired it with purple. Is that to be the new color of their bastard branch of House Targaryen. She thinks, eyes shifting to the young Lady Dove. Dressed in her usual bronze, with a peak of a color pop. Velaryon sea blue, the same as her rival’s son. 

Also glittering with pearls on her person. The Queen shifts her eyes to the boy to spy the pops of bronze in his jerking. She scoffs inwardly giving a outer shake of her head. These children are the ages, one and ten, and ten. Young, way too young. 

Yet, Rhaenyra has them believing that they are to be wed. She knows this, why else would they be dressed so similar. ‘Desperate to make what does not belong fit’ She thinks. The pale haired woman reeks with desperation and approval. The Queen tosses pity onto her, for she’ll need it when her atrocious ploy fumbles. 

Her gaze shifts back to the Crippled Lord. Her heart stops as well as her breathing. Why is he staring at her like that? So out in the open at that. If he can stare at a Queen with no shame then why wouldn’t he stare at a Princess. 

The Lord Larys, moves an up an inch, his eyes trained on the young Dove. The girl has been avoiding him lately. It’s ridiculous, she can not escape from destiny.

Destiny, ha! Since when has he ever cared about it? Was it his destiny to become the Lord of Harrenhall? No, but here he is, the Lord of Harrenhall. His very own standing and titles. 

He hums in glee, what a glorious new day. His eyes switch from the Lady to the Queen. Alicent, who always cringes under his stare does just that. So unlike his little bird, who pays him no mind and moves not one inch underneath his gaze. Dread fills the Queen Alicent at the glimpse of Lord Larys’ stare. 

What is he playing at? The question still lingers after the day is done. Even now as she fluffs the pillows under her husband’s head to make him more comfortable. “Uh, thank you” King Viserys huffs out, in a pained tone. Alicent Hightower hums a response, fixing another pillow. 

“You should really take something for the pain” She comments, looking towards him. “Uh… huh… I’m fine just a bit of discomfort” He says stubbornly. “If you say so” She mutters, sliding off to the side . Looking down at her frail grey husband, a man who was once jolly and healthy. The Queen thinks back on another matter. 

The one that concerns marriage between her son and the Lady Dove. “There is something that I wish to speak to you about before I go” She says, after a moment of pondering. “What is it?” He breathes out a heavy sigh.  She adjusts herself on the bed, putting on a small smile and stroking his wrinkled receding hairline. “I want, for you bless a union, between our son Aemond and our niece Dove” She says, not bothering to sneak, ease or sweeten her approach for this conversation.

The King’s glassy amethyst eyes roll to look at her. “A marriage? Is that what you… what you are tossing.. out”? She moves her finger down to his splotchy cheek. It’s soft and wet like a sponge but she holds back the discomfort as she gently caresses it. “Yes, my love. A marriage” She widens her smile “Doesn’t that sound splendid? A union to unite us all. You will even share a grandchild with your brother, Daemon”. 

A moment of heavy pained groaning goes by before he coughs a chuckle. “Daemon” He smiles, “Oh, is he still fighting in the Stepstones”? The young healthy wife shakes her head, a look of pity flashes across her face. “No, no… Daemon has been home for sometime now” She reminds him, “His daughter, Dove, your niece. She is here as well”. The frail sick old husband blinks his glassy eyes up at his wife before a smile cracks across his chapped lips. 

“Oh, Dove”!

“Yes! Yes! Dove. Your niece”.

“Oh, what of Dove?” He turns his head towards her. “A marriage, my King. One between her and Aemond, our second son” She tells him “It will be a blessed union, granting you the conjoined family that you’ve longed for”. The husband groans out a pain, face turning in pain before another smile breaks out. “I’ll be a grandfather? How? She’s Daemon’s daughter” He laughs out “Not mine”. She sighs giving a shake of her head “How silly of me, but the marriage is between your son and Daemon’s daughter, my King”. 

Viserys blinks as a look of joy flashes across his face. “When will this happen?” He asks, “Is Daemon going to be there? Oh….and Rhaenyra”? Alicent gives her husband a small closed mouth smile “Yes, your Grace, they will be. Will that please you”? The King nods “Ah, yes it will. When is the wedding”? “Well, my husband,…we will like for you to have a say”  She persuades “It will mean a great deal to Aemond and I if we could be granted permission to try for his daughter’s hand”.

There is another round of coughing and pain before he answers her. “This will be…. great… f-for our family” The Kings cough “Did Daemon agree”? Her smile falters for a moment “He will. When he’s made aware”. “Oh, how great that is” He exclaims “A wedding”! She nods stroking his balding head “Yes, It is”.

After leaving the King, Alicent makes her way to the tower of the Hand. Ser Arryk knocks on the door of her father’s solar for her. “Who is it?” Her father asks, voice muffled behind the door. “The Queen Alicent, Lord Hand” The guard announces. Her father bids for her to come in.

Ser Arryk opens the door for her and closes it behind her. Lord Otto, looks up giving her a puzzled look. “It’s quite late your Grace” He notes, stopping his writing “What causes you to come at this hour”? She gives her father a nod taking a breath in. It’s best if they come up with a plan to break the news of the incident to Daemon.

“I just left the King” She begins but is cut off by her father asking. “Is everything alright”? To which she nods “Yes, all is. We spoke about the union between Aemond and Dove. He’s more than happy to give his blessing”. Her father gives her a half smile and nods “That’s wonderful”. She nods, “Yes it is” walking closer to his desk.

She stops in front of it, looking down at her fingers. The urge to peel the skin around her nail starts to grow. Like it always does around her father. “Is something wrong, your Grace?” Her father asks, his green eyes search over her face. “The Prince should know of—“. 

“Let me stop you there, your Grace” He interrupts “Do not tell me you think of telling Daemon about his daughter’s exploits”. 

The daughter scrunches her face in confusion “Not an exploit. It was an innocent meeting between children who missed one another. You should treat it as such and you told Viserys of Rhaenyra’s night into the city”. 

“A decision I wholeheartedly regret for it had cost me my position” He defends, “I told a harsh truth of his daughter and he chose not to see it. I suffered because of it”. Was it the truth? The Princess had relations with Ser Criston Cole costing him everything. “It’s not the same” She says, “A visit to a brothel cannot be anything but trouble and defiance. These are two mature children who have been nothing but respectful and dutiful. Daemon and Rhaenyra got what they wanted in the end”. The Lord Hand blinks slowly at his daughter in annoyance. 

“It’s a bad idea, will only cause trouble” He says, tilting his head “Can we afford the tantrum he’ll be likely to throw”? Alicent does not answer that, she ignores it. “I want to try and smooth out the possibility of a irrational reaction” She defends “Is that so bad”? “Yes” Her father replies firmly, “for the consequences of their rash decisions will inevitably affect other members of the court”. She scoff’s giving a shake of her head.

‘Other members?’ She thinks, ‘No. Just you and only you’. “Do you not want to give Daemon and Rhaenyra, an opportunity? They will see what we offer  as the mercy it is” She says, “Can you imagine what will be”? Her father doesn’t answer her just blinks half tired at her. She scoffs, giving her head another shake. Of course, he’s not taking her suggestion. 

It’s a risk to tell Daemon. She knows this. But will happen if the Prince were to find out and that she knew. “Wether you tell him or not he’ll act with reckless abandon when he finds out” Her father says, surely “And he will make it to where the match will never happen because that is how he is”.

•XIII•

“Can you see what is happening in Essos?” Aemond asks, his cousin, Dove. They’re sitting in the library of the east wing of the castle. She looks up at him from her book arching a brow “Pardon”? He repeats his question, face turning in confusion as she chuckles. “No, my Prince. I cannot” She answers looking back down at her book.

“How far can you see? Can you at least go far? It’d be pretty shit if you can’t see far” He says, making his cousin scoff. “I can go as far as I want” She says, flipping a page “I choose not to”. Aemond raises an eyebrow. That confuses him, why wouldn’t she want to stretch far and wide? If he had the ability to see everything and anything while in the comforts of his room, why not use it?

“Because it’s dangerous and besides it ruins the mystery of it all don’t you think?” She does not look up from the page of her book. Making the confusion within him turn deeply. Did he say anything to her out loud? Or is he just predictable? 

Does she know him that well? He thinks, his head tilting almost too far backwards, exactly what: does she mean? “Hm” He hums, moving her legs off his lap. His head turns towards hers again, leaving her answer unanswered. Dove shifts, swinging her legs around the sun bed, letting him scoot closer to her. 

“Do you know who was spying on you?” He asks, in a low tone leaning near her ear “Or have a thought—“? “Aemond” She cuts him off with a stern tone and expression. He sighs, moving to the side giving her back her personal space. He wasn’t supposed to ask that. He promised her, he’d let it go.

He did, for a moment. Then he had a talk with his mother just before her arrival. She is to be his wife. How can he just let this slight against her, go? “I know you want me to leave it be” He says, “But—“. 

“No buts” She interrupts, “Any words before, but, become dust in the wind”. He nods, turning his head to face ahead. Dove lets out a sigh, closing her book and setting in the floor below her. “I do not wish to hold on to this” She says, looking over to him “It’s heavy. I don’t want to carry that weight. Do you understand”? Does, he?

Yes, he does. That’s exactly why she let him find out who it was, what they wanted. So she does not have to carry such weight with her. Aemond nods, letting out a hum “Mmhmm”. She smiles, a bright sparkling smile. 

The one he adores so much. “Good” She muses, fingers running across his hair that cascades down his back. His hand comes around to clasp hers within his. The silence that comes over them is a comfortable one. One he’s sure she can’t find with that bastard. 

One that is reserved for married couples. No wonder, why they can slip into it so easily. 

•XIII•

The Prince Daemon leans against his bedchamber door, eyes trained on the woman sat in his sitting area. The Queen Alicent sits across from his wife, Princess Rhaenyra. “What is she doing here?” He asks his wife, in their mother tongue high Valaryian. His eyes catching the way the Queen flinch’s at the language foreign to her. His wife’s indigo eyes dart from her to him “She says she has some pressing news she would like to share with us”.

The husband’s eyes narrow in irritation at his wife’s use of the common tongue. “And what news is this?” He asks, moving off the door slightly. The woman in green stiffens slight as she takes in a small breath. The Prince raises a pale brow in impatience. “Alicent” His wife calls to the woman softly, “Go on, tell us”.

The darker haired woman shifts in her seat underneath the man’s scrutiny. “There is no easy way to say this” She starts, “But I have to. For the safety of our children”. She watches as the Princess’s face scrunches with confusion. “What has happened?” The pale haired woman presses. “Aemond and Dove have been sneaking out of their castles to meet one another at night” She tells them.

Rhaenyra’s face falls, her head immediately turning to face her husband. Daemon shakes his head at his wife before his eyes meet Alicent’s. “What makes you say this?” He asks, tiling his head her. The Queen takes in a breath to calm her nerves. She knew they would express outrage and that it will be directed at her.

But no matter that, she should be able to have a civil conversation with them. “Aemond told me” She admits, making the Prince scoff. “And your son told you that Dove snuck out of Runestone to meet with him?” He questions, voice low and teetering on danger. She nods, “Yes. After I caught him sneaking back in”. The Prince scoffs out a chuckle “You have nerve, I’ll give you that. Coming here and admitting to your son defiling my daughter”.

The Green Queen’s eyes widen as her heart leaps in her throat. “No” She denies, “Nothing happened between them. He told me himself”. The Prince scoffs once more. His wife turning her head to look at him. A thousand words said between with one shared look.

The Prince waves at her dismissivly “Then why did you come here, your Grace?” He asked, voice cold. “Because, they’ve been spotted” She tells them, watching them be taken aback “I fear for their safety”. The woman heir blinks at the woman before her. She’s not here to give them this information out of good will or concern. “You mean to wed them” She says plainly.

The Queen blinks at her straightening her back and holding her head up higher. “I do think it best if we were to get ahead of the gossip that is sure to follow them” She admits, voice steady. The pale haired woman scoffs “You think I’ll marry my daughter to your son who has defiled her”? The darker haired woman’s lip quivers in anger “My son did nothing to her. They just talked. They were desperate to see one another again”. Rhaenyra shakes her head, “How do I know that Aemond tells the whole truth? Hmm? He could be leaving some important details”. 

The weight of her words crush Alicent like no other. She is referring to the incident on Driftmark when Aemond’s eye was taken by her son. Where Aemond did not give the detail of calling her son’s bastards, when recounting the tale to the King. “He has no reason to lie to me” The Queen defends, stiffening her lip “It’s the truth”. The Prince scoffs, “That may be but it does not take from the fact that your son had actively put my daughter and her virtue in danger”.

It’s now Alicent’s turn to scoff, “That is a ridiculous claim”. “Is it?” The woman heir asks, voice thick with hostility “This will not be the first time you or your son has raised accusations against my family or put them in danger”. The Queen looking down at her fingers. What a mistake. “I could have held on to this” She says, after a moment “I didn’t. I told you because I don’t want the children to suffer from something so innocent”.

The darker haired woman leans forward grabbing the hand of the Princess. A tight grip of warm hands with cold jewelry. “Rhaenyra” She all but pleads “You know just as much as I, that it affects Dove more than Aemond. This will follow her. Do you wish for her to be mocked”? The Princess Rhaenyra, tries to pull her hand away from the Queen who keeps a firm grip. “You wanted to join our lines before. Well Helaena was already the match for Aegon it was set, nothing to change it. Aemond, however has no betroth, and from my understanding neither does Dove. So let’s join our house’s and be stronger for it”. 

I only wish to help you, Rhaenyra. 

The pale haired woman pulls her hand from the other, looking back to her husband. He shakes his head in disapproval. The wife looks back to her old friend and nods her head. “We’ll think about it” She tells her, “Thank you, your Grace”. Daemon scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

This fucking bitch. Who the hell does she think she is? Coming in here, offering a marriage that serves to only benefit her son. What does his daughter get, hmm? Other than being a fucking hostage.

“I hope you do what’s best for Dove” The Queen comments, standing up “Have a nice day, Princess” She looks to Daemon nodding “Prince Daemon”. She feels his eyes on her as she walks towards the door. He’s angry, she knows it. He can be angry all he wants. He should not let it over take his judgment, however. 

A moment of silence takes over the room when the Queen Alicent Hightower leaves. Princess Rhaenyra fidgets with the rings that decorate her hand. “Do you believe her?” She asks her husband not looking up from her hands. “The Queen and her words hold no merit to me” He mutters, moving off of the door. He walks over to her placing his hand on her shoulder.

The woman heir, nods tapping her husband’s hand lightly. He moves it, as she stands up. “I offered her a marriage proposal before” She recalls, turning to face him “She did not take it”. “And now she wants my daughter who governs her own keep for her second son” Her husband, finishes her sentence. The wife sighs, looking down at her hand.

Aemond may not inherit anything but his children will. Does Alicent, think herself clever? To put this in their minds just as they’re trying to betroth Dove to Jace? “Are you taking it?” She asks, making her husband scoff. “My daughter’s regent has more say than I do. As well as herself” He scoffs, shaking his head “No. Dove will not either”. 

“Do you believe her?” She asks, watching her husband closely. Daemon, looks down at his own hands. Dove has snuck out before and it clearly wasn’t the first time. Taking his silence as an answer, the wife nods. “If it were to come out, we can prevail. Dove has not had her moon blood yet. She’s eleven and Aemond is what fifteen?” Her husband shrugs. 

“He is eligible to take a wife..” She muses “Next year, he can even father children”. “Just not with my child” He says, “This plot is one of Otto’s doing”. She arches an eyebrow “Are you sure”? He nods, “The cunt sent a spy to Runestone. Freaked Dove out so bad that she killed a rat trying to maim them”. The woman heir’s lip stiffens in anger.

“He made this accusation up to try and make her less sought after” She accuses “This way it would be easy for him to marry his grandson to her. It would be looked at as a mercy. As well as another seat he means to control”. Daemon nods in agreement, he knew it. Otto Hightower is a slimly self serving rat. No wonder why his daughter got confused. 

“He can not get away with this” Rhaenyra sneers, “This will damage Dove, as well as myself”. Her husband nods in agreement “I’ll deal with it”. His wife shakes her head “We’re betrothing Jace and Dove as soon as possible. They’ve not been spotted. Alicent said so herself. This is a scare tactic. To heel us in our own plans”. 

Daemon wants to believe her, he does. Yet, he knows his daughters. He knows them like the back of hand. They are his children after all. From his seed and blood they came. 

He knows them better than anyone. While others who have met his girls, assume Baela to be his prodigy. They miss where the other two fit in. He knew that his daughter’s would be quite the handful as they grow. Each of them independent, beautiful and intelligent.

This is why he knows it to be true. He chuckles, a bitter humorous chuckle. He did not think he’d deal with this now.

> The price of your greed is your son and your daughter
What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?

Chapter 14: SMOKE VIII

Summary:

In 124 A.C. The Lord Larys Strong leaves the capital for his home, Harrenhall. As does the Princess Rhaenyra and her family.

Notes:

Unholy war
My demons are coming
Boy, you better run
Go take your freedom, oh no- Unholy War: Jacob Banks

The sound of Caraxes infamous whistling cracks through the clouded grey sky. Quick like a whip the red dragon swoops around the body of the gold. He and his rider leave Sunfyre in the dust. They fly higher to catch up with the competitor. The grey beast that belongs to his daughter is finally in his sight line.

The Rogue Prince Daemon, lets out a loud shout if the rider’s name “Dove”! His daughter, who he knows heard him does not turn to look at him or stop. She disappears in his sight line as she bee lines upwards. The father follows, going upwards as well. Olive green and orange, Vermax shoots right past him on his right.

As pale blue and silver, Dreamfyre does the same at his left. He follows right after. The loud low groan of the great green beast Vhagar catches his attention. The Rogue Prince looks down to see the giant dragon right below him. Given the great mass of the dragon, the prince could jump straight down from his own mount landing on the beast.

Perhaps even land on the rider. The thought passes and he pushes ahead. He has to go faster. If he wishes to catch up to his daughter, who he can’t see. Flash of bright gold and pale pink pass him by, Prince Aegon and Sunfyre finally catch up to the rest.

The Prince Daemon, follows him. No doubt the race is over now. He surpasses his half drunk nephew and descends downward. Sansa jumps off of Lady giving a playful bow when she lands on the grass. Helaena lands Dreamfyre as Jacaerys swoops down with Vermax. 

“Don’t be cocky” The stepbrother sneers playfully as he dismounts. She giggles, walking closer to them. Her Targ-tower cousin joins in the giggling “I could have beaten you”. The dark haired boy scoffs, all humor “No you couldn’t”. The young aunt nods, “Could too. Tell him, Dovey”. 

She doesn’t get a word out of her mouth. That is due to the older girl “And I could have. If uncle Daemon had not distracted me”. To which Jace shrugs saying “Perhaps you’re right”. The sound of Caraxes whistle gathers their attention. 

The older man lands his dragon by his stepson’s. Vhagar and Sunfyre landing right behind them. The father dismounts his dragon. “Been looking all over for you” He says, walking over to her. “I was at my lessons, all morning” She tells him, truthfully “Then we decided to head out for a race”. 

Her father appraises her “You still need to be learning all you can”. It takes her a moment to decipher his words. She knows all she should from him, the septa’s and maesters. At first she took it as an insult to her. “Do you want something?” She asks. 

“Come with me” He answers, curtly already turning from her to mount Caraxes. Jace shakes his head “But we just started” he practically whines. Helaena nods an agreement “Yes. Can it wait uncle? I’m going to beat them all this next round”. Aegon rolls his eyes with a snort “Having another ‘dream’ sister”? The three younger cast him a dark look to keep him quiet. 

“Mmm, sorry but we have to go” He doesn’t sound apologetic at all “Jace you’re coming as well”. That goes without saying. Sansa makes sure Jacaerys is never left alone around the Green children. She gives her girl cousin a hug then walking over to her stepbrother. Giving his hand a squeeze for her own reassurance.

She misses how Aemond practically flinches at her display of affection. Letting go of Jace so he can go mount Vermax, she passes a smile to him. “I’ll meet you in the library later” She says. Daemon’s eyes narrow briefly. That will not be happening. He takes a dark look at the one eyed boy before mounting his dragon and she follows suit.

Before they arrive at the castle Daemon and Jacaerys leave their dragons to the keepers. Sansa however encourages Lady to fly off, much to their annoyance. Then Jace was to go off and take his noon meal with the King and Lord Hand. He hates it, he says that Otto Hightower makes it hard for him to get a word in. Even on a topic that is so insignificant.

She feels bad for forcing him into these lunches. However, they are for his personal gain. Although, it was said that the King had sat his eldest grandson on his lap on the Iron Throne, in front of the whole court. Told the young boy that the seat will be his one day. Yet, somehow the seat was never passed onto him.

What good is royal decree if it is so easily tossed? If a King’s word is no longer law then why should the realm kneel before them? “What’s this about?” She asks, her Targaryen father. They’re walking to his shared bedchambers, from what the path tells. “You’ll know soon enough” He answers, turning the corner. 

She nods, following as he leads her down the hallway. Servants stop their chores to move out of their way. As nobles bow and greet them. After a few moments of travel they arrive at a door made of carved dark wood and steel. The Prince opens the door walking into the room.

Her eyes immediately fall onto his wife, Rhaenyra as she walks in. The woman is sitting at the small dining table, staring at nothing in particular. Her nerves are set aflame by the sight of her stepmother playing with rings. The door closes behind her practically making her flinch. The woman’s head snaps in her direction, indigo eyes narrowing. 

“Dove” She greets, voice soft but not inviting. She’s angry at her. At least from what she can tell. Sansa gives her a half curtsy “Your Highness” she greets back with poise. “Why don’t you have a seat” The woman gestures to the chair beside her “I want to speak to you about something”. 

The girl nods, walking over to the chair. She pulls it out, straightening out her dress as she sits down. The wife passes a look to her husband before giving her stepdaughter a small smile. “I am just going to go straight to the point of why it was urgent for you to come” She starts, “Yesterday, the Queen had paid your father and I, a visit. With that visit she gave us some… troublesome news”. The girl’s face scrunches in confusion “What news is this”?

There is a pause between her words and the next to come. “The Queen Alicent has informed us of you and her son’s adventure” The stepmother provides after. Sansa’s heart stops beating for a moment. Did Larys see her tell Aemond? Did he take what he saw from a rat and give it as payment to the Queen?

“Do you know who informed her?” She asks, her left hand rubbing against her right. The Princess Rhaenyra’s face turns puzzled as the Prince Daemon lets out a bark of laughter. “Is that what you care about?” He asks, his chuckle dark with no humor. “You’re not even going to deny it” The woman states, “Not even going to defend yourself”? The girl scoffs, “True or no, it’s not like anyone cares. All it takes is enough people to believe it then that is what becomes the truth. Wether it actually is it or not. Now do you know who gave her this information”?

The woman heir, shrugs at her stepdaughter “Aemond did. According to her”. Upon hearing about this she assume it to be just another jab at her. That there was no truth behind it. Daemon however, is sure there is. Dove’s reaction to her words is not helping her at all.

“I know you snuck out before” Daemon points out “So don’t lie to me. Did you leave Runestone to meet Aemond”? Dove blinks up at her father, her hand leaving an angry red mark on the other. “Did Alicent have any reasoning behind this” She asks, avoiding his question “Was there anything other then me leaving Runestone to meet Aemond? Like…. the nature… of it”? The Prince’s pale lilac eyes narrow at being ignored. Leaving him to feel that it is just filling the purpose of what she is being accused of. 

“She said that Aemond told her it was innocent and that you two just missed each other” Rhaenyra tells her, “Was it”? Dove looks to her a calm expression on her face. “I’m a virgin” She says, causally “I’m sure Maester Gerardys, will clear this up. If that is what you are alluding to Princess”. The woman heir, scoffs giving a shake of her head. “What was the nature of the meeting then”? 

The girl gives a shrug “I have to admit I’m a little lost. There had to be a meeting in the first place”. The parents look her up and down. Their eyes trying to find any crack to breakthrough her exterior. “Do not play fool” The father demands “It’s beneath you”. Perhaps those words would allow her to notice this act for what it is, and she’ll drop it.

Unfortunately for him, Sansa thinks it best to keep this as it’s supposed to be. A secret. One buried so deep, one dies trying to dig it up. “Why would I, risk… just about everything?” She asks them. Rhaenyra scoffs, this is ridiculous.

It is obvious, that once again the Greens are making a narrative to fit them. “Who, told the Queen?” Her stepdaughter presses, once more. “I told you. It was Aemond” She tells her “Apparently he told her it was an innocent encounter, I told you this, I did not expect to fall on deaf ears”. Her stepdaughter nods taking in her words “He must have ‘said’ that to protect me, right? Vhagar is hard to miss. If this were true why hasn’t anyone said anything about seeing them fly for the Vale”? The older Princess nods at her words finding an agreement amongst them.

The Prince, however, found the crack. No one, said anything about them in the Vale. Though it could be counted for. Daemon however, remembers the mountain that he met his daughter on. “So she lied? Said that Aemond tells her this tale to what?” He questions her, tilting his head to the side “You are close to the boy”.

“We enjoy each other’s company. That’s all” The girl insists, “Unfortunately, that means any interaction we have will be dissected and made to be what it is not due to our opposite genders”. There may be some truth to that but how can that be all that is? The father scoffs, ‘what a mess’. “It is an unfortunate reality” The stepmother, says “One that I’ve been subjected by multiple times”. In this moment, Sansa is reminded of the rumors about the Princess Rhaenyra and her former sworn shields.

As well of what has been passed down through centuries of backstory of the Dance. Of how the Queen Alicent, back when she was Lady Alicent, would read to the old King Jahaerys, among other things. How it is said she had relations with King Viserys before their marriage. Or how Otto Hightower hates Prince Daemon for sullying her. All rumors made to discourage those that they are about.

“It grieves me, how far others will go to see you fail” The girl says, in a low tone after a moment. The woman heir nods, at her stepdaughter’s words. The young Lady speaks nothing but the truth. How can Rhaenyra look her in the eyes and not believe her? When she, herself had fought this battle time and time again. 

“Life in Westeros can be so cruel. I fear for your and your sister’s fates when I am gone” Daemon’s voice is not above a whisper but they hear him all the same. “I know” Sansa replies, a painful look on her face “I’ve been here before”. The mistake of her words is loss on her but not her Targaryen father. Who is reminded that he left her in the Vale while he stayed in another continent. No clue of her statement not being the insult he takes it as. 

“How am I supposed to know this is just gossip?” He asks, turning the conversation back to its original tone. “Because you know me” His daughter replies, dual colored eyes widening with hope, perhaps even guilt. Rhaenyra’s indigo ones dart from husband to child. ‘Now or never’ She thinks, it’s not the perfect opportunity but when will that come. “It does not matter what you do, it will follow you” The woman heir advises, though her stepdaughter already knows “I don’t think you should marry Aemond, not based on a rumor that has barely reached ears”.

The girl’s small body stiffens and then slumps, still and silent. There is no doubt that she has already caught on to what the woman is about to suggest. “There is a far more suitable match for you waiting” The woman continues, eyes darting upward to meet her husband’s. “Who?” The stepdaughter questions, voice low and tight. The woman heir sighs as her husband nods his head for her to continue.

“Jacaerys” She answers, confidently. The air in Sansa’s lungs evaporates in seconds. “Jacaerys” She repeats in a whisper. Teary eyes looking down at the red dyed ox fur rug. The stepmother nods her head, “Yes, Jace”. 

The girl looks back up at the woman, an almost frightful look on her face. “Why?” She asks her, “Why me”? The woman gives her shrug “Why not you? You are a Targaryen and you come from an old House, who’s Lord Paramount a supporter of mine”. Sansa just blinks at the woman, trying to discreetly calm her breathing that started to pick up in panic. “I don’t think that is wise, your Highness” She tells, the older Princess “There is a better match”. The woman heir quirks an eyebrow at the girl with intrigue “Who”?

“Baela” The girl answers. “Baela?” Daemon questions, his eyebrow mimics his wife’s. The girl’s face scrunches in confusion at their own. “Yes,” She nods, “Baela. I’m a bit confused, from my understanding you talked to Lady Laena about this, Princess. Yet, this idea seems foreign to you”. Rhaenyra scoffs, sitting up straighter. 

The Late Lady Laena and her, have discussed marriage between their eldest before. It is not a bad match by any means. Baela has a dragon, one that was hatched to her. She is the Granddaughter of an old Valaryian House. A wealthy House.

The match between them might even smooth out some animosity towards her and Daemon. “I think it is a perfect match” The girl continues, a small sweet smile on her little face “As is a marriage between Daeron and Rhaena”. The older Princess and her husband exchange a look of confusion. The both of them lost at their daughter’s words. Sansa rolls her eyes as she catches on and clears her throat to get their attention.

“The third son and final child of King Viserys and his Lady wife, Queen Alicent” She reminds them, or tries to at least “He shared a wet nurse with Jacaerys”. Those words seemed to have done the trick. The woman heir, nods her head in understanding. “You want my youngest daughter to be married to that Hightower mutt?” Daemon scoffs, shaking his head “If we reject the Queen herself. Why on earth would we accept this shit”. The want of telling him that Rhaena marries a Hightower in the original timeline, burns greatly. 

She shakes the thought, along with want and calmly look at him. “Father, I believe we should try and bridge the gap between the two parties before it’s too late” She tells him, “Danger lurks behind every corner. You can’t deal with them all but at least you can deal with the ones and your own home”. The Prince scoffs, closing his eyes and running a jeweled hand across his face. “Dove,” Rhaenyra calls gently, getting her attention “The advice you have given so far is good, helpful. This…. You have to admit is a bit…. lacking. I know better than anyone what it’s like grasping at straws. This match between Rhaena and a… third son, it makes no sense for both sides”. It’s does in the way it could help soften the blow of Aegon not getting the throne.

It or could not and Rhaena could be another Sansa Stark. She doesn’t want that. It wouldn’t be bad to stick with Rhaena being betroth to Luke. In fact it may be best for House Velaryon, Lucerys, and Rhaena, altogether. She nods her head, “You are right, Princess”.

Rhaenyra gives her small smile and leans towards her giving her hand a small squeeze. “You should marry her to Luke. Rhaena, it would be a good match and a happy marriage” She tells them. The stepmother’s smile grows as she nods her head. “Yes” She giggles, “That is good, very good. Thank you”. “That is good” Daemon comments, a pleased look on his face. Perhaps, Joffrey, Aegon, and Viserys could help bring in other House’s. 

Herself, Including. “Perhaps, a Tully or a Tyrell, for you” The woman heir suggests, as if she heard her thoughts “A second son, someone who will not inherit and someone to help support my claim”. The girl just nods, as if all the words she can use have been spoken already. Rhaenyra never thought she’d see a child look so tired. “That is good” The girl, practically whispers “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome. Or at least I have. This should be my last week here. I should be going back to Runestone for winter. As for you all, I suggest that you stay here as your permanent residence. Sad to say you won’t see Dragonstone in a while. I also suggest you and your family take a tour around the Kingdom’s and really ingratiate yourself with the Lords. Talk about their everyday activities and favorite things about their region. Get personal”.

She stands up from the chair, straightening her dress. “As I’ve said before this may not get you the crown” She reminds her. “Then why even put in the effort” Rhaenyra scoffs, shaking her head in annoyance. It is not towards Sansa herself, she knows this. “Because at least you did”.

•XIV•

The King’s bedchamber smells of incense and rot. Sansa braves through it as she walks further into it. The old man’s ragged snores reach her ears as she steps closer to his bed where he rests. According to a page, he demanded for her presence. He must have slipped into sleep right after the request. 

The glint from the blade of Catspaw catches her eye. She should really get out, since the King is indisposed and resting right now. It’s what her mind is saying. Her feet however follow a different accord. Bringing her closer to the dagger.

This blade has to mean something. Or maybe she would like it to have meaning. Other than the reality that it could be a very old blade that was once a King’s. Even with that it is no mystery how an assassin go their hands on it. As much as she wants to, she restrains herself from touching the blade. 

Anyone could walk in at any moment. A sick, unaware King, and a young girl who has family members eligible for the throne, with a blade. That would cause a mess none of them can afford. So, she looks at it from afar with tears gathering in her eyes. Hoping Bran could hear heart break through the ring of steel. 

“Dove” She hears the Queen’s voice behind her. She turns to see the woman in green standing by the sculpture of Old Valaryia. “Yes, your grace”? The woman’s eyes dart from her sleeping husband to her niece. Queen Alicent, wanted to speak with Dove as soon as possible.

When she got word that her husband had sent for the girl, she thought it to be a perfect opportunity. From the sounds of her husband’s ragged snoring, she was right. “Come with me” She says, turning on her heels and out the door. She hears the girls light footsteps coming to walk along side her. The woman chooses to speed through the halls in hope of the girl’s parents not seeing them.

The girl’s knight Ser Rhys stands off to the side letting Ser Criston guide her into the Queen’s chambers. The knight closes the door behind himself, once they’re in. Alicent gives Dove a small smile, gesturing to the small dining table. “Come” She says softly “Fresh lemon cakes, just for you”. She walks over the table grabbing the charger stacked with the yellow bittersweet cakes. 

Sansa offers back the kind smile as she takes a seat. “Thank you, your grace” She says, with sweetened gratitude “But I think, I’ll pass on them”. As much as she likes the cakes, she would much prefer a savory food right now. The Queen must’ve read her mind, she picks up another charger this one neatly piled with sandwiches. “You may want something to actually fill you up” She says, as she practically shoves the food in the girl’s face. 

Queen Alicent, sits down across from the girl taking a sandwich with her. She sits the plate down and takes a bite of her food, as the girl does the same. “Mmm, I loved tea parties when I was younger” The woman, reminisces after she swallows “My mother was good friends with the old late Lady Tyrell, who would sometimes host other Ladies of the Reach. She would take me with her while my father stayed here to help the King with his duties”. 

The girl gives her a fond smile as if she too has shared this memory. “I don’t think I’ve been to a tea party” She tells the woman, ‘in this lifetime’ goes unsaid. “Oh, well I lived for them” The woman chuckles, “The food, the company” her smile drops “The talk”. Sansa’s smile drops as well as her small body stiffens. Queen Alicent, takes another bite of her food and continues “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you something”. 

One of Dove’s thin silvery copper eyebrow arches in curiosity. The woman sets her sandwich down, wiping her fingers and leans in. “This is a rather delicate matter that has already grown roots”  She starts, voice wavering “Now, I want to make it clear that I do not want to put you in any danger, but I want the truth. I cannot help you if you don’t provide with the facts”.

Sansa inwardly scoffs, this is about the meeting with Aemond. Is she to be bombarded by this subject for the rest of the day? Truth be told the second they walked through the door she was anticipating the Queen to confront her about it. However she wasn’t expecting the Queen to ask her of her side of the encounter. Afterall what else could she want to know. 

“Facts on what? Your grace” The girl asks. The Queen lets out a sigh, leaning in more “About you and my son Aemond”. She nods, as if the woman’s words make it clear to her. “Yes, that was innocent” She says, repeating what Rhaenyra told her. The woman nods her head, “Yes, yes… I know this. Others may not given the circumstances of the situation”. 

“What circumstances, your grace?” Her voice, tightening with emotion. Alicent’s head quirks to the side, an expression telling the girl she knows what she is talking about. The girl wants to play fool like Aemond had that night. Just like then, the Queen will not have it. “Don’t, Dove, you know what this can do to you if word continues to spread” She tells the girl, trying to get her to understand the gravity of the matter “You and your reputation will be done for and possibly your House along with it”. 

Sansa takes in the Queen’s words, assessing and dissecting them. Her mind clings on to her ‘if’, an odd choice to her. Why didn’t she say ‘when’? Does she think that the fire would be snuffed out, unable to grow? Or was there no fire to begin with?

She frowns, finally coming to a conclusion and understanding the Queen’s intentions. “You want me to marry Aemond” She whispers, an answer she already knows. The woman nods, setting down her cup. “It’s the only way for you to get ahead of these rumors” She tells her, making her scoff. “I am sorry your Grace, but what makes you think this will get us ahead and not set us back?” The girl questions.

The Queen shakes her head, already knowing what the girl is thinking. “This is to help you” She says, firmly “You may never find a suitable husband… or any husband because of this. At least with rumors floating about you still get a suitable match”. It sounds good, it does, but then the conversation with Rhaenyra and Daemon rings in her head. “Is this to serve me? Or your son?” The girl questions, her voice sparking hints of an accusatory tone. 

Alicent stiffens under the girl’s harsh gaze. “How will this serve Aemond?” She questions, with a bite “My son being married to a girl who’s—“. “A Princess” Dove cuts her off “A Lady of her own Keep. From a blood line that once ruled as Kings. A House that is old and respected”. The Queen Alicent, says nothing back as she is speechless. This girl is seed of the one deemed ‘The Rogue Prince’. She should’ve known better. 

“Dove, I do not mean to insult you, but rather tell you the reality of your situation and to help you make it better” she says, in a gentle yet firm voice. “Married to my son, Aemond, would solidify your standing in court. Not only that but you and your children will be close to the crown”. 

Sansa nods at the woman’s words, catching the little glimpse of her mind as well. Aegon will be King. It’s already been established as far as the Queen believes. If she were not taking the steps to guide Rhaenyra, the woman heir would be grasping at straws by the time King Viserys dies. She may still be, somethings don’t go according to plan.

“I am sorry for my tone of voice, your Grace” She apologizes. She earns a nod of gratitude and a small smile. “You are a smart young woman” The Queen compliments, “I do hope that you know that, and that you will act with integrity. Do not let this opportunity pass you”. Would it be so bad if she did? If she chose to marry Aemond and lived with him in the Vale?

She imagines it may be the happiest outcome of all. The girl nods her head “I understand your Grace”. 

•XIV•

Aemond wipes the sweat from his brow as he walks up the stairs of outside of the castle. He just finished training with Ser Criston. The Knight praised him for his form and balanced but berated him on his lack of discipline. Who needs discipline on the battlefield? It’s the only time when discipline should be taken out and all bets are on the table.

“Aemond” A soft voice calls to him, one he knows well. It’s Dove. His lips quirk into a small smile, as he turns to face her at the bottom of the steps. “Dovey” He greets with a nod. “Can I speak with you for a minute?” She asks, pointing to the other side of the banister. 

He turns his head to look as well and nods. He follows her lead as she walks down and around the corner. When she turns to face him, he immediately notices something is wrong. “Are you alright?” He asks her stepping closer. She takes a step back, making him frown. 

She nods her, with a small fake smile “I’m alright, thank you for asking”. He can tell she isn’t, but he knows her well enough to know that pushing for information won’t make her open up easily. “I did want to tell you something” She says, her eyes trained on his own “I am leaving”. Aemond frowns, “Leaving? You just got here”. She nods her head, “I know but it was just a short visit. I am due back for winter”. 

Sansa gulps, as silently as she can. She wraps her arms around herself so she doesn’t rub her hands together. Suppressing all, telltale signs of nervousness from his eye. “Hmm, I understand. I just wasn’t expecting you to go so soon” He says, sadly “But that’s no matter, we’ll speak—“. “Actually” She interrupts, “We can’t. It’s not wise for us, for you to visit like before”.

His frown deepens, then he remembers that his mother said that he was spotted. It is best, if he does not visit her on the count of her reputation. “I understand” He nod, he does truly, “We can write to each other. That is just as good”. His suggestion breaks her heart. She was always so happy to get the little paper bird filled with his words. 

She shakes her head, “Actually, Aemond” She grabs his hand, wrapping her fingers around his “That’s not a good idea either”. What is that supposed to mean? “Wa… what do you mean”? She looks into his eye, her own full of fear “That we should not contact each other, anymore”. Her heart isn’t the only one that breaks. 

Her words shoot an arrow through his. “What? This.. this is your father speaking… he does not want—“. “No!” She says sternly “No, this is a decision I made on my own. To salvage what has been damaged. Aemond, you are to be ten and six, in two years. You’ll be married. Next time we see each other we’ll have spouses of our own and children too”. Spouses of our own. Aemond yanks his hand away, stepping back from her. 

“Aemond…. I—“. 

“Have a nice journey, Lady Targaryen” He spits out turning on his heels. Looks as if he was right to not believe his mother when she sold him this dream. Sansa looks down at her hand, stunned. If she were being honest she did expect him to lash out but not like this. It was nothing but rejection. 

She doesn’t know if she should count it as a win. Can she truly count it as one? Maybe it would’ve been better if she took her own advice. To not get attached. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much.

•XIV•

Sansa felt his presence before she even walked into her chambers. His being, a collar clasped tightly on her neck. His smell already filling her nostrils, sticking to the hairs within seconds, waiting to last for weeks. “I was wondering when you would come” Lord Larys comments, in his hand he is holding a bronze colored velvet box. His fingers play with the velvet silver ribbon, that is tied around the box making a bow on the top. 

“What are you doing here?” She asks, closing the door behind herself. The  smile that is already on his face widens as he extends an arm with the box in hand. “I brought a gift” He says, giving it a shake as if to tempt her “Come, open it”. She walks over to him stopping a few feet away from him and reaches out taking the box from him. She does not eye the box or open it.

With her eyes trained on him she walks back a few steps and sets the gift on the small dining table. Larys, huffs a chuckle. The action of her not throwing it down was not missed. “What are you doing here?” She repeats, sternly. “I am due back at Harrenhall” He tells her, leaning against his cane “I thought I come and say goodbye”. 

She scoffs, shaking her head “Why”? He raises an eyebrow “Well, that is the polite thing to do when leaving friends”. 
Sansa scoffs once more. The last friendship with a grown man who lived in the Riverlands didn’t go so well. For both of them. 

“We’re friends?” She asks, to which he nods, “We don’t even know each other”. Larys chuckles, his forehead leaning onto his gloves hands “No, but we could”. “I don’t think I can be friends with you” She says, her voice tightening. “And why is that?” He asks, as if it is a mystery. “You spied on me” She points out, “You told the Queen of the Prince Aemond’s visit. You put me in harm’s way”. 

The Lord nods his head, “Yes, though I would argue that telling the Queen of her son’s adventure had nothing to do with you personally. It was more on her hypocrisy than anything”. The girl’s face scrunches in confusion, not understanding what he means. “It’s nothing really” He answers, “The Queen once told me that she would not have a willful blindness when it come to the transgressions of her children. Seems she may have forgotten about that conversation”. 

“It’s easier to say things than doing them” She points out. Larys chuckles, “Now, I do not agree. It does not take some added strength to carry out a deed that you had once swore out loud”.   It does. Just like it takes strength to not do something. “Well, maybe it’s because I don’t say things I don’t mean” He absentmindedly says. 

The girl’s gaze suddenly becomes more serious “Are you saying the Queen is one to go back on her word”? He chuckles once more “I just did. Everyone does. It is the nature of humans”. Sansa scoffs, shaking her head “Lord Larys, why are you here”? 

“I thought I told you”? 

“It wasn’t the truth. At least not the whole truth”. 

She’s right, he hasn’t given her the whole truth. So, he stands up and hobbles towards her. His warmth sends heatwaves through her body. It’s not the type of earth that she gathers from Lady or Daemon, or even Aemond. No, it’s burns so hot, that she sure her skin will char. “When people are born, they are often born alone. Life, however grants them with the gift of having family or someone by their side. I was not granted that fortune” He tells her, “I was born alone, and I’ve been alone and different in more ways than one. No one was like me, no one knows of the things I do, of what I see and touch. Not until you”. 

He reaches out, his hand caresses her hair. “I had dreamed of meeting someone like you… like me… for as long as I can remember” He pulls his hand away from her placing it back on his cane. Sansa gulps taking a step back from him. A familiar feeling creeps it’s way up her spine. “You are freighted by the prospect because you too, have always been alone” He says, a knowing look gleams in his eyes. 

“I’m not alone” She says, in a voice stronger than she thought she could manage. “Oh, but you are. That is what I noticed when I first saw you” He smiles, a smile that seems almost genuine “You are alone. Just like I am”. He straightens his body before walking to the table and grabbing the gift. He turns to face her and holds out his hand. “Open, it” He demands, softly. 

She takes the box from and carefully removes the silver ribbon. Then she opens the box, revealing a stunning pendant. The metal is silver and the chain is thick yet dainty. The pendant itself is winter rose made up of sapphires and blue topazes. In the middle of the rose is a firefly, made from amber and citrine. 

“It’s beautiful” She compliments, still staring mesmerized at the pendant. “It’s yours” He tells her, “I had it made for you”. The trance that she is locked in breaks upon his words. She snaps the top on box, quick like a viper. “What is this” She questions, raising her hand with the gift “A bribe”? 

He chuckles shaking his head, “No, my Lady. It is not a bribe. It is simply a gift and a promise”. She blinks at him, not understanding what he means. “What are you saying?” She asks. “You will know in due time, dear Dove” He tells her, his free hand gently cups the back of her head and he leans in placing a kiss on her forehead. 

> would you let love lead you home, oh please
Let redemption keep you warm
So, you better run

Notes:

The smoke disappears and Wildfire begins to burn.

And we are out of the year 124 A.C. I hoped you all enjoyed this year and all that came with it. Now we are about to jump into the future, for our last time jump. The story is really about to focus in on Sansa and her relationship with Aemond. <3

Chapter 15: WILDFIRE I

Summary:

In the year 130 A.C. Most Lords and Ladies of Westeros travel to the capital to celebrate the name day of King Viserys I.

Notes:

This is my least favorite life
The one where you fly and I don't
A kiss holds a million deceits
And a lifetime goes up in smoke- My least favorite life: Lera Lynn

Smoke clouds the night air, as fire burns all around. The screams of children and their mothers are loud enough to wake the dead. Their screams of terror and despair are overshadowed by the loud, booming speech from a man. In the middle of the street in the midst of the chaos. He’s tall, wearing a white gown with a gold seven pointed star around his neck.

“It is not them that will save you from this carnage!” He shouts, pointing towards the Red keep in the far distance, “It is not them that will bring you to salvation! It is not those false Gods you cling onto! This is why you suffer”! 

He stops his pacing as another man dressed in white, from head to toe, hands a torch. The tall man takes the torch and looks around at the surrounding scene. A few feet away from him is a man, far younger than he, sprawled on the hard ground on his back. The tall man in white walks towards the man. The young man catches him through his peripheral and starts to squirm and let out an incoherent muffled scream.

The young man’s mouth is sewn shut. Dried blood crust’s on the thread and what was once the top of his lips. His body is decorated in bruises, ranging from the colors of yellow to black. On the man’s chest, carved in red and flesh, is the seven pointed star of the faith. The tall man in white looks down at the young man, no emotion on his face. 

The tall man in white moves his hand with the torch closer to his face. Casting a light, revealing more of himself.  His hair as white as his gown with a long, kept beard, matching. The motion is quick, and soon the torch is drawn on the young man. The young man, sprawled on the ground broken and bruised, screams a muffled scream. He squirms and cries, trying to escape the flames that have not yet touched him.

“You will never get salvation” The tall man whispers to him, “For you are a deviant, what God will welcome you? Hmm? No one takes pity”. He moves one of his legs closer to the young man. His foot hovering over the open wound. “You will know of nothing when you go” He sneers, slamming his foot down hard into the young man’s chest. The young man screams out in pain, sobbing as he squirms to get from under the man’s boot.

“Beg for mercy, before it’s too late!” The tall man shouts, looking around at the weeping people, “The only one that can save you, have mercy on you and your soul is the seven faces of God! Do not waste this opportunity, this choice!” He looks back down at the young man, “For you only have now, this once”! 

He thrusts his hand down, the torch’s flame touching his face. The young man squeals and sobs, shaking. His bladder involuntarily leaves his body as his body ceases. He makes a choking noise, as his mouth fills with blood from accidentally biting off his tongue. A few more moments of his suffering goes on before he eventually stops moving altogether.

He is nothing but a faceless body. The tall man steps back as several men dressed in white head to toe come and gather the body. They drag the bruised and open, wounded body down the street and into a cart. Two of the men get in front of the cart to where the donkeys are. They get on top of the animal as the other men hop into the cart filled with bruised and wounded, faceless bodies.

“Praise, the seven!” The tall man shouts, “Praise the seven! For they will bless you, as your only and true gods”!

•XV•

Sansa sits on her settee by her window. She’s jotting down any memory of her past life that she can recall in her journal. She got this idea, last week, when she realized she didn’t remember who Robb was. It happened once, when she was eleven, she couldn’t remember what his smile was like. Then it was his laughter.

Then she was sure Robb never smiled or laughed. Then she thought, maybe, he wasn’t real. Yet, there were thoughts and memories that weren’t all faded, just a blur. He was real. As real as her, or at least he once was.

After so many, hard to recall, memories, she bought a journal. She got the idea that if her Stark family were going to fade entirely from her mind, then she’ll give them a place to be remembered forever.  Just like what the scholars do with songs and history books. There is also the fear that if she loses her memories, than she’ll lose Sansa Stark.

If Sansa Stark is gone, then who will Dove Targaryen be?

A knock on her door catches her attention. She quickly snaps her journal close and goes over to her bed. As she gets down to her knees, another knock booms on the door. “Just a minute” She says, grabbing the chest underneath her bed. She opens it, moving around the bird shaped letters and placing the book down.

Another knock, this one more impatient than the last booms. “I said in a minute!” She shouts, moving all the letters to cover the journal. “Gods, Baela” she mutters, closing the wooden chest and pushing it underneath the bed once more. She gets up and groans as another knock hits the door. She rushes towards the door, yanking it open with an angry shout, “Baela”. 

The person behind the door was not Bela but her younger sister, Rhea. Sans’s eyes widen in surprise, a big smile takes over her face. “Rhaena” She exclaims, pulling her little sister into a hug. The little sister giggles, hugging her back just as tightly. “Hello, to you too” The little sister says. 

Sansa scoffs, pulling away from her. “It’s nice to see you” She tells her, “Now why are you knocking at my chamber’s door like a maniac, like Baela”. Rhaena shrugs, “Why didn’t you answer upon the first knock”? The older sister scoffs once more, rolling her eyes. The younger sister, giggles softly, “I came because I am leaving with you all. Are you packed because they’re ready”? 

Sansa nods, opening her door to her room and stepping off to the side to let her sister in. “Is Baela packed?” She asks, the twin, who nods. “Yes, and she is waiting in the great hall for us” the younger twin answers. The older sister grabs one of her trunks of clothes, handing it to the younger. “We shouldn’t keep her waiting long” The Lady of Runestone says, grabbing another trunk. 

•XV•

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, stands by the window looking out at the gardens beyond it. The small council bicker back and forth behind her. An everyday occurrence, it seems to be now. For two years, The Princess has sat in on these meetings in the stead of her father, as his heir. A position she shares with her eldest son and heir, Jacaerys. 

“It’s ridiculous” Lord Jasper Wylde spits out, “There is carnage everywhere, houses are damaged”. The next to speak is Lord Lyman Beesbury “It is an act of war against the crown” The old Lord states in a firm voice “These violent acts are nothing but a cause for rebellion”. 

“It is already rebellion, Lord Beesbury” Says Ser Tyland Lannister “If the blood on the streets of Flee bottom is not evidence enough”. 

“It’s evidence enough for me” Lord Wylde comments. “And What of the City’s Watch?” Rhaenyra asks from over her shoulder, “Where are they to put a stop to this violence and rebellion”? The men look at each other, not one of them have an explanation. “We are looking into it, Princess” Lord Hand, Otto Hightower, tells her “We share your concern—“. “So why haven’t there been any reports from the men who are supposed to guard the small folk and protect the streets” The Princess interrupts, turning to face him “Hmm”? 

“Princess” The Queen, Alicent Hightower says, “As my father is trying to say, the City’s watch is in danger as well. It would not be wise to just send all our men out into these savages line”. The woman heir gives a nod, to the other woman, before turning her attention back to the Hand. “Forgive me, my Lord Hand” She says, her voice so low, her tone could be mistaken for apologetic. “Perhaps the gold cloaks could use a new commander, someone who has the will and strength to put an end to to this madness”. The Lord Hand nods, the only time he will ever agree with the Princess Rhaenyra. “And who will that be?” Ser Tyland asks, “Can any of you think of any suitable candidates”. 

The members of the small council pass looks to each other. “What of Prince Daemon?” The Prince, Jacaerys Velaryon ask, from the opposite end of the table from his mother. “What of Prince Daemon, my Prince?” Ser Otto asks the young man. All eyes land on the Prince, who does not shrink underneath their gazes. The Prince shrugs, “Was he not the commander of the City Watch once? From what I heard, the streets were safe”. 

The Lord Hand scoffs, “You were not there. The Prince acted with recklessness. He enacted the worst type of violence and order. It would not be wise to give him this sort of position again”. 

Even though the Hand’s voice is calm, it’s clear that he is fuming at the suggestion. The mother of the Prince stiffens, not like how the older man is quick to dismiss her son. “You are right, my Prince,” She says with a neutral tone, “But I am sure there are other men who want the position”. The Prince simply shrugs, “It is not a matter of want. It’s a matter of who is best to defend this city and its people. That’s Daemon, whether any of you want to admit it or not”. Ser Tyland gives the young man an approving nod.

“I agree” Lord Jasper says, looking at the Princess. The woman heir looks around the table, only three disagree with her son. The Queen, The Hand, and Grand-maester Orwyle. Of course. Any suggestion that she or her son have voiced out loud has always been shut down by one or the other or all three. 

It could have been a simple disagreement. They simply could not have seen eye to eye, at first. Now, it is clear that it is blatant defiance. Doesn’t matter whether the suggestion is good or not, they will not agree. They won’t give it thought or even suggest anything of their own. 

They will simply just not agree and leave it at that. It’s a nuisance. When she wrote to her stepdaughter, Dove, the girl told her to just brace it. ‘Some warriors fear the battlefield, but their fear does not stop them from going into battle with a brave face’ Her stepdaughter wrote back to her. So, Rhaenyra does just that. 

She puts the brave face on and braces for the everyday battle. She has no choice but too. If she wants her throne, then what choice is there? She turns to Ser Otto, the man will only agree if she makes it as though she could not do without his approval. It’s ridiculous, a Dragon kneeling for a mere building. 

“It’s not so unwise, my Lord Hand” She says, keeping her voice neutral, “It may play in our favor to keep those savages from terrorizing the city more”. The Hand looks down at the dragon eye marble, as if he’s contemplating the possibility. “We should still consider another candidate” He voices, after a moment, “For the safety of Prince Daemon, we may want to look elsewhere”. The woman heir nods, a small smile on her smooth face. Inside, she is screaming, so loud they all might just hear her. 

This is as close to an agreement that they will get. “On other, lighter… matters” The Master of coin, Ser Tyland starts, “The budget of the King’s tourney. Looks like we successfully managed to stay within it. Seems we have more to celebrate”. The Princess smiles at the man and nods her head in appreciation. “Not trying to ruin this victory of ours… but I am afraid that the King’s health is not up for this celebration” The Queen points out. The thought of her father’s health interfering with his name-day tourney had crossed the Princess’s mind.

She had even discussed the topic with her father, who insisted that the tourney has to happen. ‘I have spent my last three name-days glued to this bed’ He told her, ‘Allow me to properly celebrate a new year of life. Even if it is just for a moment or two’. So, she’ll allow him to enjoy this, even if it’s for a moment. “I understand and share your concern my Queen” She replies to the darker-haired woman, “But the King is insisting that his Name day tourney happens. He would like to enjoy the day properly, and from what I’ve been told, my father has been doing better”. Queen Alicent, nods, not have anything else to say.

A small victory that Rhaenyra takes, with a pleased smile. 

•XV•

Prince Aemond, moves at a quick pace, making his way around the bunches of people. His sister, Princess Helaena and their older brother, her husband, Prince Aegon trail behind. Their older half sister, Princess Rhaenyra, is hosting a tourney for their father’s name day. A day that none of them really care for, itself, but the day does bring in someone of importance. Their youngest brother, Prince Daeron. 

It’s been a year since he’s seen his younger brother. He never knew how much until he got word that his brother will not be coming for any Name day or celebration last year. A loss that he mourned with Helaena. Both unknown to Aegon mourned with them. The three siblings stop in their tracks at the edge of the balcony. 

“Do you see him?” Aemond asks, Helaena who stands on the railing. Her head hangs lowly as she looks down at the people below. “No” She answers, shaking her head, “I don’t see him”. “Maybe he’s already arrived, and he’s in his room,” Aegon suggests, stepping back from the railing. Their sister shakes her head, “No. Unless he was flying Tessarion, he wouldn’t have made it here early”. 

“How do you know that?” The older brother argues, “The road could be clear”. The sister narrows her eyes in annoyance. Before she could reply with a retort, someone interrupts her. “Now what are you lot Yapping about?” The person quips, gaining their attention. “Daeron!” They exclaim, their arms bumping against each as they reach to hug the younger brother. 

“Oh, I missed you!” Helaena giggles, squeezing her little brother hard. “I missed you too” He says, winded by her. “When did you get here?” The oldest brother asks, making the other two older siblings narrow their eyes at him. “Just now” The younger brother answers, pulling away “I saw you three skipping about looking around like the eager children you are”. Aemond rolls his eye at his little brother. 

“Please, no one is as eager as you” He says, “I bet you flew out your carriage like a bird to get to us”. The little brother rolls his eyes as the older siblings share a laugh. He moves around his siblings, hands grabbing the railing tightly as he leans over the edge of the balcony. “No wonder you didn’t see me” He says in understanding, “There are a lot of people”. The older siblings nod, looking down at the guests below. 

“And more to come” Helaena sighs, giving a shake of her head. She never took well to… anyone, really. She has always been wary of those outside of their family. Not that Aemond ever shamed his older sister for her odd nature. “Who is that?” Daeron asks, his young voice cracking as his eyes gleam with curiosity. 

Aegon chuckles, knowingly clapping his brother on the back hard. “Now, what fair maiden caught your eye?” The older brother chuckles, eyes darting across the courtyard. “A stunning one” The younger brother admits, making his elder siblings laugh. He points down to the far right, their eyes moving to the figure below. Helaena let’s out a gasp, with wide eyes. 

Aegon however, lets out a loud cackle. Aemond narrows his eyes at his older brother in suspicion. His eye following his brother’s sight line. A gasp leaves his mouth as his eye lands on the girl below them. Dove. Yet, she’s not a girl… Not anymore.

She’s a woman grown. A stunning woman. “Daeron, that’s Dove” His sister says. The youngest brother’s eyes go wide as his mouth falls open. “That’s Dove?” He asks in disbelief, “The Rogue Prince’s daughter. The one he fathered on that plain chit, Rhea Royce”?

 “Late Lady Rhea Royce” The sister corrects him, “And her mother, so be kind with your words of her”. The youngest brother nods his head at her, muttering an apology. “What is Dove doing here?” Aemond asks, his eye never leaving the young woman below. “The tourney, brother” Aegon reminds him with a wicked smirk, “Many of the great Lords and Ladies are coming”. The one - eyed Prince doesn’t say anything to his brother.

His attention his captured by his cousin below. His fist clutches at the sight of her jumping into his eldest bastard nephew’s arms. His siblings surely can’t hear the giggle that escapes her mouth, but he can. A beautiful melody that rings in his ears alone. “You’ve never met her, have you?” His sister asks the youngest. 

“No” The youngest replies, shaking his head. “I’ll introduce you two” She suggests, grabbing his hand. “No we don’t have time, we have to see mother to tell her Daeron’s here” Aemond tells them, annoyance clear in his voice. His younger brother’s face scrunches confused. “Well, they’ve never met before” Helaena counters with a small smile, “So, mother can wait. Come Daeron”. 

She loops her arm in with their younger brother’s and guides him down the balcony to the lower deck. Aemond lets in a sharp inhale, his eye rolling at the sound of Aegon’s snickering. His feet pick up a fast pace to catch up with his siblings. “Dove!” He hears his sister call out, “Dove! Hello”. Their cousin turns her head, a bright smile graces her lips. 

“Princess” She greets, with a wave. His older sister returns the wave and smile. “Dove, this is my youngest brother, Daeron” The sister introduces, practically shoving her youngest brother forward “I don’t think you two have yet met”. Dove shakes her head, “No Princess, we have not met yet”. The younger woman turns to face the teenage boy. “Daeron the Daring” She mutters, her eyes roaming over the boy’s face and body.

A confused expression flashes across the faces of Daeron and his older sister. Sansa smiles tightly, biting back an awkward laugh. “Your siblings told me a lot about you” She quickly saves, “You are quite the character”. The teenage boy’s lips quirks up, a cocky smirk on them. “Daeron the daring” He testes, “Hmm, I like it”. 

“It suits you” Helaena whispers, with an adoring smile on her face. “Prince Daeron” Jacaerys greets, with a nod. His former nursing partner doesn’t return the gesture. He doesn’t even look his way. The rude act is not lost on Sansa and her siblings. 

So to keep Baela and everyone else at peace, she turns to her siblings. “We should get going,” She tells them, her voice firm with authority. “Yes, we should as well,” Aemond, says, from a few feet away. Her eyes flicker over to him, and she catches herself having to do a double take. He’s so… beautiful and tall.

“Prince Aemond” She greets, “Prince Aegon”. Aemond’s eye narrows at her. “My Lady” Aegon greets, with a smirk, “It is nice to see you again cousin…” His eyes take a tour of her body, “very nice”. She stiffens underneath his gaze, putting on a smile, she steps back a bit. “Thank you, cousin” She replies politely, her voice tinged with a mix of discomfort and forced cordiality.

Turning to face her siblings, she cocks her head to the side. “Let’s get on with it” She says, giving a nod to Helaena along with a gentle squeeze to the other woman’s hand. Aemond’s eye follows her frame as she walks around him. As the last of her group are out of ear shot, Aegon lets out a chuckle. “Well that was awkward” He snickers, “This will be a fun affair”.

Aemond rolls his eye looking towards his sister who tosses him a look of pity. “Let’s go see mother” She suggests, her hand landing on his forearm. He nods, his head turning his head to try and catch one more glimpse of Dove. The young woman is already out of sight. Maybe that’s for the best. 

•XV•

Rhaenyra let’s out a squeal of happiness as her children piled into her room. Her indigo eyes going wide and bright with joy at the sight of them. “Come in” She says, “Come in! Look at you all”! Jacaerys takes Lucerys’ hand, guiding him to her, stepping off to the side for them to greet one another. “Oh my boy! Look at you” She coos, pulling him into a hug, “You’re getting so tall”! 

Her second boy’s arm squeezes her middle as his lips land a soft kiss on one of her smooth cheeks. “And handsome” She adds, moving a piece of dark curly hair from his forehead. “Thank you mother” He says with a wide childlike smile, “I missed you”. The mother chuckles softly, “And I missed you” she whispers to him. Her eyes travel over his head to catch a glimpse of her stepdaughter’s. 

“Look at you three” She gushes, pulling back from her son, “All of you are just beautiful”. The stepmother makes her way over to the girls with a wide smile. “I can see why you all have so many wanting for your hands” She says, taking the hands of the twins into her own. “Thank you” They say in unison. “How was the trip here,” She asks them all, turning her head to look at each of them. 

Dove shrugs, muttering “It was fine”. Rhaenyra furrows a brow at the girl, who looks irritated. Then Luke says, “We saw a man eating a mountain cat raw with his bare hands”. Getting the mother’s attention. “Oh, that’s an experience” She muses, “Where did you see this”? 

The boy shrugs, “Leaving Runestone. Baela said he might be a mountain clansmen”. “He was,” The older twin says, sure of herself. The mother chuckles, “I believe you”. Rhaenyra pulls from her stepdaughters, her face remaining with a happy expression. “I am delighted to see you all so much” She tells them, “However, I believe you should all be resting. So go, get settled, relax. I will see you all later for supper. Dove, can you stay behind for a second”? The younger woman, nods her head, stepping off to the side.

Once the other children are out of the room, her stepdaughter shuts the door. “What is it?” She asks, not even turning to face her. “Daemon is to take over as the Lord commander of the city’s watch” The woman heir replies, “Jacaerys has suggested the idea among the small council. Yet, just as you predicted, Otto Hightower was not so keen on the idea. Especially with it coming from the mouth of my heir. Further salt on the wound, I believe”. Dove turns to face her, the girl shrugs her shoulders. “Otto knows how these things are, he will shake it off and think of something else” She tells her, with a sure tone. 

“I’m not sure his daughter shares that trait” The stepmother comments, her voice portraying her annoyance. The fear and irritation that she has been feeling for the past two years. “She may not, but you will pay it no mind” Her stepdaughter tells her in a firm tone, “Focus on your position. Each day that passes, you prove that it will be harder to remove you. This is what you wanted. It does not get easier. Do not be foolish enough to trick yourself”.  As the Rhaenyra absorbs Dove's words, a flicker of resentment crosses her face, but she quickly suppresses it, knowing that the girl has secured her position. 

The woman heir inhales deeply before nodding her head. Leave it to Dove to tell her the cold truth. “What of the tourney?” The girl asks, switching to another topic. The stepmother raises a pale eyebrow, “What of the tourney”? The girl sighs, shaking her head, “Is this for the King or you”? 

“My father” She answers with no hesitation, “His Grace wants to spend a name day outside his bed. I will make it happen for him. It’s the least I can do”. Dove blinks at her for a moment before giving her a sad look. “That’s touching,” She says, stepping closer towards Rhaenyra “But this is an opportunity for you to gain more allies. Your tour was just the beginning, and there is more to solidifying alliances than being a welcomed guest”. 

Rhaenyra nods her head, her fingers finding her rings. As she twists the delicate jewels on her fingers, Rhaenyra ponders Dove's words, her mind swimming with thoughts of politics, intrigue, doubts. “Would I make a good Queen?” It’s lower than a whisper when she speaks it. Not meaning to say the words out loud. 

Dove shrugs, “It matters not what I think, your highness”. The stepmother rolls her indigo eyes in annoyance. “But I believe that power is not simply bestowed upon someone, it must be earned and wielded wisely, through actions and decisions,” She finishes, taking a seat in front of her stepmother. Rhaenyra nods, straightening her back, a glimmer of determination shines in her eyes. Perhaps this will all work out in their favor. 

If the Gods are so generous. Yet, she knows their rarely are.

> The blue pulls away from the sky
The whisper of two broken wings
Maybe they're yours, maybe they're mine

Notes:

Political Radicalism- Is the behavior and opinions of people who favor extreme changes in the government.

Religious Radicalism- Is the same as Political radicalism but used with Religious views.

From what is shown in history, Political and Religious radicalism can go hand in hand. There is also a play in extremism as well. I think the first scene we get of Stannis and Melisandre is a perfect example of religious and political radicalism/and or/ extremism.

Resurrection and Reincarnation are two different things. Resurrection is when someone is brought back from death in their own body. Reincarnation is when the soul of someone is reborn in a new body. In the Asoiaf fandom it is a theory that Daenerys is Aegon the Conqueror reborn. (I don’t believe that, I think Dany is her own character and person). There aren’t any examples that I have seen of reincarnation in this story. Resurrection however is very prevalent. It is a recurring theme that if someone is resurrected they’re not the same and they lose a part of themselves. Magic is a sword without a hilt, in this world. There is no safe way to grasp it. And GRRM has made it to where we won’t get to fully understand magic in this world. He said he would like to keep magic as this mystery that it is. Something that I fully respect in this series.

I love to interpret my own opinions and see if I was right of not. I try to keep some things vague enough to keep you all on your toes and see if how you interpreted it is how the story is going to play out.

That being said we don’t know if Bran had sent Sansa back or not. He is a greenseer who can see the past, present, and future. Do with that information as you will :).

Anyways, I get Kudos every day and hits keep going up. I hope you all enjoy and continue reading! Thank you!!

Chapter 16: WILDFIRE II

Summary:

In 130 A.C. The nameday of King Viserys I, is celebrated in Kingslanding with a tourney and feast.

Notes:

I'll be the devil in your eye
If it's what you need to heal
I'll be the devil in your eye
If it'll change the way you feel- Devil in your eye: Mumford & Sons

The Prince Aemond rode to the King’s name day tourney with his brother’s the Prince’s, Aegon and Daeron, and his sister the Princess Helaena. The small party rode in a dark metal wheelhouse designed with the sigil of the House his mother was born into. The dark emerald flags for the Hightower’s wave proudly in the wind as they rode to the stadium. The sounds of the horse’s hooves hitting the hard cement is overshadowed by the small folks chattering. The people of the city stand outside the comfort and security of their homes for the games.

Aemond does not share the enthusiasm of the people. His mind far off in the memory that is Dove. Completely consumed by her return, even the stench of the city is overpowered by her earthy scent. “What’s on your mind?” Helaena’s voice pulls his attention to her.  Concern is written on the Princess’s plump face. 

“Mmm, Nothing” He assures her, “Just want to get this over with”. His answer does not please her. Yet, she does not pry any further, just nods her head, turning her attention away from him. So he does the same, turning his head to stare at the city through the small open designs. 

The wheelhouse comes to a stop, and a moment after the door opens. Ser Arryk Cargyll, stands like a statue with his hand placed out for his sister to grab. The Princess Helaena, dressed in a fern colored gown, that brought out a green in her eyes that resembled her mother’s, takes the knight’s hand. Ducking her head as she walks out the door to not damage her gold seven pointed star head piece. The people’s cheers do not silence at the glance of the King’s second daughter, nor do they raise. 

The second to come out is the youngest of them, Prince Daeron, wearing the rich emerald of his mother’s house. The cheers do not falter, nor do they raise. Same goes for Prince Aemond himself, dressed in a velvet green doublet, decorated with a small jeweled fire breathing dragon placed above his right breast. When the oldest exits, all sounds from the small folk silence completely. Not one whisper is heard coming from them.

Aegon, wearing an old doublet of their father’s rolls his eyes. Dark like the colors he wears, the Prince’s mood turns sour, stalking up towards the entrance of the coliseum. The small folk may not have access to the best education, but they are anything but ignorant to the eldest Prince’s exploits. Why does it extend to the entire family? Aemond cannot think of any reason why a brother should be punished for the crimes of his brother. 

The second son does not pay the spectators any mind as he walks up the stairs, his sister’s arm wraps into his own, letting him guide her towards the entrance. When they make it into their reserved section, he comes to notice his father, the King, already in his assigned seat. Old, pale, and sickly, the man looked nothing like his title would've lead. Especially with that oversized jerkin. Did he lose more weight overnight? 

Along with the King, the Hand, and Queen are seated as well. The Hand, Ser Otto Hightower, dressed in the colors of his house, sits on the left side of the King. Just below the King, seated in the center all by herself, is his mother the Queen Alicent Hightower. Beautiful as ever in her emerald dress, gold detailing and jewelry. The Queen runs a comforting hand over her eldest arm. 

Aemond does not hear the words that are exchanged by them, even as he passes by to take his seat. “Well at least it is lovely today” His sister mutters, next to him. He nods his head, looking down at the arena where the jousting will be. Flashes of green, red, yellow, purple and many other colors flash with pride in the wind. His attention is moved however when the cheers from outside get so loud it may as well drown out the others. 

The second son turns his head to the entrance of the balcony. The first to come step into the space is his half sister’s sons, the Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon. The Prince’s are donned in the colors of their ‘father’s’ House. The younger Velaryon brother takes his seat directly in front of Aemond himself. The older Velaryon brother, however, stays up in the entrance. 

Aemond rolls his eye, ‘Rude’ he thinks, just standing at the entrance, blocking the way for everyone else. A minute or so pass and then the second daughter, and first twin of his rogue uncle, the Lady Baela Targaryen, passes the threshold. Silver curls, loose in her face and the rest of her hair up in a high free-falling tail framing her beautiful brown skin. Wearing a pale blue and blush pink dress, with outer snitching of silver and gold. The girl is a lovely sight.

The Prince Jacaerys loops his arm with his betroth guiding her to her seat taking his place beside her, to be in between his brother and her. Then the next to step into the balcony is the Lady Dove Targaryen and her younger sister, the second twin, Rhaena Targaryen. The second twin wears a stunning blush pink dress with gold stitching and tiny pearls that decorate the deep neckline. The time to admire the girl is given to her older sister. The pale blue and white dress is far differently than Dove's usual style, but it accentuates her delicate features and compliments her fair complexion. 

The one eyed prince swallows, as his eye roams her body. This may be his favorite look of hers. The sisters walk down to their seat, Dove sits down in front of Daeron leaving a space between her and Baela for Rhaena to fill. He turns his full attention to the rogue Prince’s eldest, his eye catching a glimpse of all the sisters. Each dress has ribbons attached to it, Dove’s colored silver, Rhaena’s pearl with the outline of gold stitching, and Baela’s gold with silver stitching. 

The ribbons are to serve as the zipper to pull the dress’s together. Aemond smiles, remembering Dove showing him new ideas for the next dress she’ll make. Seems she decided to split and share. His attention is pulled away from the girls when the sound of cheers from inside and out rose if that’s even possible. The source of all the excitement, his half sister.

The Princess, first daughter and child of King Viserys, Rhaenyra of the House Targaryen and her Prince consort, Daemon Targaryen. The Prince is dressed as fabulous as the other attendees. Fine red fabrics and expensive jewelry, the Prince gives off the essence of wealth. Princess Rhaenyra, opted for a more simple look. Standing out among the masses in their fancy and bejeweled fabrics, the Princess wears a plain black dress with a modest neckline and sleeves. 

Others may overlook this as just the Princess not having a dress in time given how busy she has been. Aemond however, knows better. Her choice of attire was deliberate, a statement, and her presence commanded attention regardless. She stood out, and not like a sore thumb but like a diamond in the rough. Perhaps the mournful look she showcases is a part of her facade.

The rogue Prince guides his wife to their seats. The Princess stands next to the King, her father, on his right and her husband takes the seat next to her. 

“Welcome, all of you!” Rhaenyra’s voice rings strong and steady carrying out to those on the opposite end of the coliseum “The King, and I give our gratitude that you could come and celebrate his name day with the rest of our family. Enjoy, celebrate, you will be witness to grand spectacles, indulge in bountiful feasting, and share in the merriment throughout the night”.

Her words resonated with a regal authority that demanded attention and reflected her deep sense of responsibility as both a daughter and a royal figure. No doubt that the audience outside are hanging on to her every word as the one inside is. It is easy for him to get lost in his thoughts of his mother’s worrying and his half sister's growing influence in court. In what will happen when she descends the throne. Which by the looks of the decaying body sitting in the high chair, it’s going to be much sooner.

The Colosseum erupts with a fit of cheers and claps. Whatever his sister has said caused this. What could she have said? The one eyed Prince looks over to his mother, her face remains passive. Her big hazel eyes scream with annoyance. 

His grandfather, however, looks very pleased. Smug, almost. He looks over to his older brother, who moves his mouth downwards, showcasing his teeth. His attention is pulled from his brother by the sound of footsteps making their way through the balcony. The lean, muscular frame of a young redhead man. 

A Lord, if the leather and velvet he wears is anything to go by. The colors of navy-blue and scarlet red doesn’t give him any hints of which House he belongs to. There’s, Brightstone’s of the Vale, or Chambers’ of the Riverlands. The young man moves ever so slightly, and the ring he wears on his right finger catches Aemond’s eye. A silver fish.

A Tully.

What is a Tully doing in the Royal family’s balcony? As to answer his question, the young Tully walks down the steps and takes a seat in the last empty seat. The seat next to Dove. Now his cousin is sandwiched between her sister and that guppy. 

It is not missed by the Prince how the young man’s hand brushes against her shoulder. The two must be familiar with one another because Dove passes a smile to the boy. It’s not shy, nor does it reach her eyes. It’s not her true smile. Not one that she gives him, anyway. 

He finds some comfort in that. It makes him feel as if Dove's smile is reserved only for him. The horns are blown and the games begin. An unimportant squire against a lesser Lord’s son. The two run at each other with steady speed. 

The squire unseats the lesser Lord’s son. Claps erupt, along with some booing. If the squire keeps at it, he’ll find himself a knight by the end of the Tourney. As the squire basks in his victory, the lesser Lord’s son tucks tail with his head hung in shame. There will be no glory for him or his House. 

From his peripheral, he sees Dove turn her head to face the guppy. The young man smiles at her, showcasing his teeth. They may be straight and white, but he can make out the chip at the bottom of one of his front teeth. What should be counted as a flaw only adds to his prettiness. The young Tully is very pretty.

Bright copper waves sits on top of his head. His eyes, a blue that are like the sky, granted them to him itself. His jaw is smooth yet still chiseled, cheekbones are defined and high. He and Dove will make a handsome couple.

Paired with gorgeous children, with perfect health and the right number of fingers. Aemond’s mouth starts to develop a bitter taste. His throat burns. “It seems you need this more than me” Aegon says from beside him. He turns his head slightly to meet his brother crouching beside him, his ringed fingers clutching a metal flask. The one eyed Prince scrunches his face up.

There are servants on the balcony serving wine and other beverages. He knows his brother and his vices. Whatever is in that flask is more than what he can handle. The older brother tilts the flask towards him, actually asking, not pressuring. He is not the type to share his drinks.

It is a gesture of good faith. So, against what should be his better judgment, Aemond takes the flask. He takes a generous gulp, handing it back to his brother. The liquid has an underlying bitter taste of alcohol, but it’s not overwhelming, it’s quite sweet and goes down smoothly. Not at all what he would’ve excepted Aegon to drink. 

“It won’t make you forget, but it will help” His brother offers, taking a sip of his drink. Aegon’s lavender eyes scan over to Dove and the Tully boy. Naturally, Aemond’s eye follows. The two aren’t talking anymore, just watching the games in what he believes to be a comfortable silence. His brothers stand  up, in placing a quick kiss on his cheek and patting his shoulder before head back to his seat.

The next to be announced is Oscar Tully. Once a Squire for the late Lord Samwell Tyrell. From what was said, the boy was sent back to Riverrun. A babe has no need for a squire. If that is Oscar, then, the young man by his cousin has to be the older son, Kermit. 

A first son. A young man who will become a Lord of his keep. A keep, of a great House. A young man who can grant her first son with the great keep it Riverrun and the second with the great keep Runestone. 

He watches as Kermit whispers something to Dove. Her cheeks go red and she casts a shy smile. Aemond narrows his eye. He can think of so many things that could make her blush that way, and none innocent. So the two are very familiar with one another.

His cousin lays a hand gently in the young man’s forearm, leaning in. She pulls away quick, so he can see a wicked smile on her pretty little bow lips. The guppy’s eyebrows, which are as perfect as his mother’s, shoots up. He sees her body moves slightly, indicating that she’s laughing. The guppy shakes his head with a chip tooth smile.

Oscar knocked another one on their ass. He guides his horse over to the balcony with a smile even more charming than his brother’s. Dove turns her head, and he quickly follows her gaze to her father. The Prince Daemon nods his head, his pale lilac eyes gesture towards the railing of the balcony. The young woman turns her head, he notices her back straightening, practically becoming stiff.

Her hand comes up, landing on her sister’s forearm. He sees her grip it. Then all three of the sisters stand up, going to the Bannister. “Princess Rhaena, may I be granted the honor of wearing your favor?” The younger guppy asks, holding out his spear. The second twin turns her head to her eldest sister, who nods. The girl steps away from the railing, walking over to the small table where her favor laid.

She grabs it, walking in a way that Aemond recognizes to be influenced by Dove. The second twin steps closer to the railing and tosses the flower crown onto the boy’s spear. “I wish you luck for this and future games ahead, Ser” Her voice light and sweet. The younger guppy smirks with a nod, “Thank you, Princess. I shall bring honor to us both and be as lucky as my brother”.

His blue eyes, so much like his brothers, scan over the body of Dove. His cousin stiffens slightly. He can see her jaw clenching, and he’s sure her eyes narrow. It was a mere second before she gives a shining smile. This was yet another fake smile.

Aemond furrows his brow, sensing something was amiss. He is proven correct when Dove’s eyes meets her father’s, and she drops them quickly. The one eyed Prince turns his head, taking a look at his paternal uncle. A familiar tooth aching anger boils within him at the sight of the older man. It does not matter what Dove has said, to cover for her father. 

Aemond knows the truth, and he has not forgiven or forgotten. 

•XVI•

The evening air sweeps inside the lit up tent and kisses Daemon’s face. The feast is becoming even more lively by the second. It’s been about an hour or maybe more since it started. The sound of laughter and conversation fills the air, blending with the tantalizing aroma of the spread. Meats, varying from pork to fish, paired with wines and juices from around the world.

Soon, desserts will be presented. He got a glimpse of the menu earlier. Puddings and candied almonds make his mouth water just thinking about them. However, he’s not even sure he would want any at risk of ruining his teeth. The looks that he’s gotten and keeps getting from the Green cunts are sweet enough for him.

His pale lilac eyes flicker across the room before landing onto his wife. Rhaenyra has always been comely, tonight though, she is a sight to see. Others are noticing as well, good about damn time. His lovely wife also looks every inch of the Monarch. The imperial purple coat, embroidered with garnets to make his family’s sigil. 

Rhaenyra is not the only one to show support to her cause. His daughters and stepsons all sport black coats with the same garnet crested sigil. Out of the sight of the small folk and his Grace, gives them the free will to drop the nice act with the usurpers. It is not just his family that show the support for his wife. There are several trusted Lords, Ladies, Knights, and servants in black coats or armor. 

“Father” His eldest voice pulls his attention away from his wife. He raises a pale eyebrow at her. “Did you hear what I said?” Dove asks, her voice low, meant only for him. He shakes his head, causing the girl to sigh. “Two cups is the cut-off, we should not allow ourselves to get pissed” She says. 

Then she sits up straighter, darts her eyes a few chairs down and mutters in her strange language “Like some people”. He’s heard her speak in the Old tongue enough times to gather what she’s saying with the help of her gesturing. He knows who is by the end of the table, drunk like the foolish boy he is. 

His eldest pulls a face of disgust, muttering what could only be a curse word under her breath. The Tully boy beside her makes a confused expression. The sight of his scrunched, freckled nose makes Daemon pull a face of his own. An ugly feeling settles in the pit of his stomach. As a Targaryen, he is given the privilege of knowing more than one world. 

Of having access to what some are forbidden from. Scared of. From the moment he laid eyes on the boy when he visited Riverrun with his family, he noticed how alike these two looked. It couldn’t be explained away by just having similar features, but that doesn’t stop his thoughts from racing. Especially when there are so many others with those same features.

No, his and Elmo Tully’s eldest can practically be siblings. Ugh, he verbally groans at the thought that keeps reoccurring. Every time he looks at these two. Is this what others see, feel, when they look upon his family history? 

No. No! Targaryen’s they need their blood pure. Outsiders have never mixed well. Just take a look at those Green mutts, and those monstrosities they call children. 

Dove takes a sip of her wine, her duo colored eyes steal a glimpse of his brother’s second son. Which causes Daemon to steal a glimpse of him. The boy pretends not to notice father and daughter’s glance, and he’ll be better for it.

•XVI•

Aemond takes another sip of his wine. The red liquid runs down his throat, leaving bitterness in its wake. It’s been an hour and a half since this feast started. In the time he’s been seated at the Royal family’s table, Dove has looked at him eight times. Five of those are eight times were when Kermit Tully was speaking to her. If she were so interested in the little guppy, then why did her eyes wander over to him?

Next time we see each other, we’ll have spouses of our own and children too.

He scoffs, he has no spouse. Neither does she. Yet. He told his mother that he is not ready to take a wife. That he needed some time to himself, for his education, sword fighting, and Vhagar.

There was a lie in there. In his words. His mother was hounding him with marriage prospects. A Baratheon girl, he believes. He doesn’t remember which one, there are so many. 

He blurted the words out quick, with the feeling of being insulted barely concealed. It wasn’t because he wasn’t ready for a wife. He was. He just couldn’t take any wife. Not only that, but he wanted… wants what was promised to him when he was fourteen.

Given how close he was with Dove, she wants that too. He steals a glimpse at his cousin as she converses with the Tully heir. Doesn’t she? The intensity of his gaze causes Dove to glance back at him, locking eyes for a fleeting moment, as if she could read his thoughts. She straightens her back, looking down at her plate that she was just picking at. 

His good eye scans over to her and her side of the table. It’s just her father, the guppy, keeping her company at this point. Her sister’s and stepbrothers are off dancing. Her stepmother is conversing with the Lords and Ladies, embarrassing herself by the second in the way she throws herself at them. 

“Are you going to say anything?” He hears his brother Aegon ask. Aemond turns his head to look at his brother, who is now beside him. In Daeron seat. The second son looks over the crowd of people to see his younger brother dancing with their sister. A small smile appears on his lips at the sight of the scene. 

“Well”? The impatience in his brother's voice brings attention back to the drunk beside him. “Say anything?” The one eyed Prince questions “To whom”? Aegon’s glossy lavender eyes narrow at him. He knows, but he was never planning to speak to Dove in the presence of her father or that little twat. 

From the looks of it, she will be with one or the other for the rest of the night. “Is it our Uncle?” His brother presses, setting his cup on the table with a loud clank. The sound catches the attention of the remaining family members at the table, including Dove. That’s ten. 

“Or maybe it’s the Tully guppy?” His brother leans in a little, then chuckles, Yes, it’s him. The little twat, tell me something… does it have to take him to stick his finger in her cunt in front of yo—“

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence, Aemond’s face turns up in a snarl, and he takes the back of his hand, landing a pop right on his brother’s mouth. The action was not heard over the music and chatter, nor was it seen. “You don’t speak of her in that manner” He hisses. If looks could kill, the silent sisters will be wrapping his brother’s body for the pyre right now. Aegon lips the blood from his lower lip and works his jaw, he then takes a sip out of his brother’s cup.

“You act as if I suggested that I will” He comments, setting the cup down with the same careless pressure as before. This time the loud noise was not heard, so Dove and the others pay them no attention. “I’m just saying that I think that you’re too cautious”. That makes the second son scoff, “Is that a bad thing”?

It is to Aegon, he’s sure of it. His brother sighs, shaking his head, “I like that about you and you’re not all the time. It’s not annoying or anything. It is for this particular reason. You wanted a dragon, you pursued it. So pursue this”.

“It’s not that easy” The second son bites out. “It is” His brother argues, “Dove is seven and Ten, she has her moon-blood and maiden head. She’s a Lady in her own right and as beautiful as anyone can come. Yet, she’s unwed, why do think that is? For a girl who has some say in her own hand”?

The one eyed Prince shakes his head. No, she’s not waiting for him because she doesn’t want him. She was waiting for the pretty little Tully boy to come and sweep her off her feet. He heard her once in passing telling Helaena all her dreams of marriage and songs. None of them fit the reality of a one eyed second son.

Kermit Tully may not be a Prince or dragon rider, but he is what fairytales are made of. 

“No-“

“Yes” His brother hisses, “Yes-“

“Why do you care?” He asks him. It’s not uncharacteristic for his older brother to care or notice something's wrong. Aegon may be an arsehole at times, most times, but he does have the sense to care enough for his family. Especially when he’s sober. His brother sighs, his glossy lavender eyes flicker up to the crowd.

The younger brother follows his eye line. Helaena is smiling widely at Daeron as he spins her around, her fern colored dress forming a hoop around her ankles. “You wouldn’t understand… you and Dove are just so lucky” His voice sounds so bitter and broken “You have no idea what you will succumb towards if you two carry on like this” He picks up Aemond’s cup, downing its contents “Trust me you wouldn’t want to find out”. 

Aemond may not have the experience hands on, but he’s seen enough to know. He would rather not have what his siblings, parents, and even his paternal uncle with his first wife had. Most importantly, he doesn’t think he wants that for Dove. No, he knows. He’d kill the man with his bare hands.

“Then, how do I go about this?” He turns to face his brother, who turns to face him as well, “I can’t possibly talk to her with those two around”. His brother's face turns into an expression as if he’s torn. One that Aemond can’t recognize as a look of jealousy and pride. Aegon sits up straighter, looking over towards his cousin and the boy. 

It’s almost like he’s studying them. Then his brother grabs a flagon of wine and fills the cup halfway. He sets the cup down and turns his body to face the other residents of the table. Then he lets out a loud cackle, throwing his arm out and knocking the cup over onto table, making the wine splash over the wooden surface.

Some wine spray out, landing on the sleeve of Dove’s black coat. His cousin stands up abruptly, teeth bare, as if she were a wolf or some other predator. “Aegon!” She scolds, “This Is new”. His brother shrugs carelessly with a chuckle, “Sorry, Dovey I had too many”. The young woman rolls her eyes, muttering “Of course you have” in Old tongue. 

“Go” His brother whispers. Aemond stands up from the table, giving his brother a look of gratitude. His eye scans the crowd to see if he can catch up to Dove before she is fully out of his sight line. He watches as she exits out of the tent. He follows her path, exiting out of the same entrance as her. 

His features soften when his eye lands on the silhouette of the woman he followed. Dove lets out a huff, of frustration or sadness. He can’t tell, “Dove” He calls for her attention quietly. The Lady turns to face him, her face scrunch up confused until she notices who called her name in the dim lighting of the fire that burns.

 “Aemond” Like a melody, making his heart skip a beat. The one eyed Prince steps closer towards her, the anxiety never fully wavering off. “That didn’t seem good” He says, referring to the incident he caused he’d witnessed. The young Lady nods her head, a sarcastic snort with a follow-up of “No, it wasn’t”. Aemond wanted to reply by asking about her feelings and the nature of the conversations she’s had this evening, but it wouldn’t be appropriate. 

They don’t speak to each other in that way anymore. They don’t speak to each other at all. That’s when the tightening pressure on his heart drops and his stomach starts to twist. They lived a life with no contact for six years after communicating for four. It shouldn’t be a great loss to him, when they have been strangers longer than friends. 

He sucks in a breath, completely unaware that he’s staring at her. Dove lets out a sigh, “It’s been so long since I’ve been in your company”. He doesn’t react because there is no strength to. “How are you?” She asks, dual colored eyes flickering across his face. “Why do you want to know?” His voice defensive, “You’re not obligated to make small talk with me, we are not around anyone”. 

He wanted to speak to her more than anything but now in her presence alone, all he can think about is diving into the past instead of focusing on the future.

A hurt look flashes across her face, she arches an eyebrow, “Obligated? Aemond I want to know because I wish to speak to you, for you, and only you. Not for appearances”. 

The Prince rolls his eye, “Everything you do is for appearances”. She rolls her eyes, knowing that he is referring to Kermit Tully. “I’m just doing what is required of me” She spits out, “I hold no fault within that”. Aemond scoffs, “Am I at fault. Because, if I can recall, you set the precedent when you left”. He shouldn’t have said that, it reeks of vulnerability. 

Dove flinches, sighing out “I know,” She admits “And I am, sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing”. He scoffs once more, “And how was abandoning me and cutting all forms of contact with me the right thing”? Now she looks hurt and bewildered, as if she hadn't expected that response. She should’ve though, should have thought of all the things he would and could still say. As much as he would like to revel in making her feel the way she made him, the feeling of victory never made its appearance.

“I never wanted to hurt you” Her voice tightening with emotion, “It is not an easy thing to pick someone you could potentially be giving your whole livelihood to”. 

“I am not just someone” He hisses, stepping closer towards her. “I know” He should believe her because she knows. “He is,” He continues with an ugly snarl. Yet, Sansa believes he never looked more beautiful. “I know” She says once more, nodding her head. 

“What do you want”? It is what he asking but she knows what he is trying to say. ‘Don’t you want me’? Of course, she does. Every decision she makes has somehow involved him. If not him personally, then his presence. 

His presence, a gentle yet heavy entity she carries in her heart. A reason it is so challenging to just get married to someone else. As she knows, it is for him. What does she want?

“What I wanted was you” It comes out broken and defeated, her eyes filling with tears, but she meets him head on. Wanted, is past tense, but he gathers what she is saying, what she was trying to say so long ago before she left. Heavy in his bones, enough to shatter his heart. 

Aemond lets out a soft chuckle. “Dove” It’s an overlapping of voices. One filled with the desperate attempt to salvage a friendship, and the other authority. The young pair turn their heads to the entrance, their eyes landing on Dove’s father. The older man doesn’t even take so much as a glance at his daughter, his pale lilac eyes staring Aemond down.

“Kermit Tully awaits you” The father says, his voice loud enough for them to hear. Dove looks at him, but his attention stays on his uncle. The young woman sighs, taking one more glance at the one eyed Prince before nodding at her father and walking to where he stands. She crosses the threshold to go find that guppy lordling while her father stays. It’s just a moment and just a look, but Aemond understands well. 

> 'Bout some kind of love, what are you holding onto?
Some kind of love when you're scared you're gonna lose

Notes:

The ribbon is a symbol for life – how it can be elegant, graceful, tangled and overlapping at the same time. The paintings show the peaking and falling almost like a timeline. Life is precious, fragile & important.

Chapter 17: WILDFIRE III

Summary:

In 130 A.C. Most spectators for the King’s Nameday Tourney return home. Lord Elmo Tully’s sons Kermit and Oscar are documented to have stayed.

Notes:

Gave my heart and soul, a giant in the room
I left him long ago, following you - Run Cried The Crawling: Agnes Obel

Before she headed to the tourney, Sansa was paid a visit by an old…. Friend. It was after she had broken her fast with her twin sisters and their maternal grandmother. She knew who awaited her before she even opened the door. Holding her breath and bracing herself, no matter how many times she’s been in his presence, the heavy feeling of anxiousness never leaves her. 

She slips in as fast as she can, so Ser Rhys does not catch a glimpse of him. Once at Runestone her father almost caught him in her chambers. It was a good thing that he changed into a bat, and distracted her father before he was discovered. It would not have gone well if it weren’t for his quick thinking. Sansa can’t help but take some credit for it.

After all, it was her who taught him how to conquer the mind of the freer. 

She closes the door and turns to face her guest. Lord Larys Strong, is seated comfortably in one of her lounge chairs. He’s leaning forward on his cane, as he sometimes does, and sucking a pomegranate seed. From what she remembers is that it became his favorite fruit as of late, ever since a whole cart was gifted to the King from somewhere east. His blue stone eyes scan her person before a wide smile cuts into his face.

“Love” He greets, his voice coated in eagerness. “Lord Larys” She returns, and curses herself for not calling him just by name like he has asked. She steps closer towards him, “When did you get back”? From what he what wrote last gave her the impression that he was back at Harrenhall for some business. 

“Last night” He answers her “In the hour of the owl”. She only nods, knowing that he has more to say, and interrupting him never worked in her favor. “With all the commotion going on, I had to smuggle myself into the city” He tells her, his smile falling, “It’s been an interesting month for the capitol”. She couldn’t help herself from interrupting and saying “Yes, it’s been a tragedy”. He quirks an eyebrow, “Yes, such tragedies should be awarded with displays of grandeur”. 

She does not defend her parent’s decision in hosting a tournament. Violence wrapped in pretty colors is still violence. Just easier to swallow. She should know better than most. “Distractions are most welcome when misfortune take root” She explains, in a cool tone, that she mastered over the years. “Ah, yes. If only they could be in on the spectacle” He sarcastically replies, “It could be a solution to all their problems. Unfortunately, distractions provide a temporary help”.

Sansa scoffs, shaking her head. One thing that she has learned over the years is that there is no changing Lord Larys’ mind. The man is as stubborn as they come. He may even exceed a mule in that race. 

“Speaking of temporary distractions” The crippled Lord hums, he leans forward grabbing another seed of pomegranate and popping into his mouth. The young Lady looks at him with an arched eyebrow and intrigue in her dual colored eyes. “Why don’t you have a seat?” He suggests, it will be best to tell her on a head on level. She does what she is asked and takes a seat right in front of the Lord. He bites the seed, crushing it with his sharp molars.

“From when you last wrote me, you made mention that your hand will be publicly secured” He begins, the motion in which his mouth moves makes it easy for Sansa to see the crushed fruit on his tongue and back teeth, “To Kermit Tully is it”?

She nods, her head. “An auspicious match” He notes, “Though, I propose a better one”. Dove’s face scrunches up, “Kermit Tully was for you. Why-“

He doesn’t let her finish her sentence. It is quite humorous because Tully was her idea. Yes, he pushed for it, but only after she brought it to his attention. “Prince Aemond Targaryen” He interrupts her. He is certain that he hears her heart stop. 

Aemond? “Aemond?” Sansa voices out loud, “You want me to stop the possibility of me being wed into a good family with a decent man for…”. She trails off. She can’t even finish the sentence, and she doesn’t even know the reason. “This match has its benefits, as I’m sure you are aware of” The Crippled Lord defends, “And you two have history. So it’s not like you will be given to a stranger”. 

“I’ve known Kermit since I was thirteen, we have history as well” She points out. Lord Larys gives her shrug, “But do you share blood? Ties to a world beyond the one we know? he knows”? Or a claim to the throne? He watches as Dove bites the inside of her cheek. He imagines her biting into the flesh, crushing it, like he does with the seed of pomegranates.

“He may never accept me” She says, in a quiet, meek voice. He wonders if she fears rejection or scorned by it. “He will” He says, surely “You are everything he’s ever conjured up to want in the flesh” and Larys should know. “You will give him an opening to come to you, and you will let him believe that you want to reconcile and trust me, he will welcome you back with open arms and an even heart”.

What a beautiful dream. A childish, song written dream. “I could never lie to him” Sansa whispers, he hears her clearly, though. “And you don’t have to” He tells her, “Authenticity has better results”. 

Sansa wants to question why he is so adamant on this. Does it have something to do with the Queen? It could be, she knows that Larys has an allyship with her. Does it have anything with further strengthening the Greens? No, he has no real loyalty to them. 

He has some care for her, though. She’s seen it, experienced it. However, the gnawing feeling that this goes deeper than his fondness of her grows by the second. It should because deep down she knows that, self-interest will always prevail. It has with her. 

Lord Larys, leans forward, grabbing another seed of pomegranate. Instead of doing what she’d thought he’d do, he extended his arm to her. “What do you say, my dear? Trust me?” His blue stone eyes glint and all she sees is the lack of options. Could she ever truly trust him? 

The young Lady, leans forward, grabbing the tiny seed from his fingers. She raises her hand as a gesture of cheers and then pops the tiny seed into her mouth. Swallowing it whole. Watching as he swallows the remains of the tiny crushed seed, he held captive. 

•XVII•

What I wanted was you

Those words play over and over in Aemond’s mind. Dove wanted him. She still wants him. Then why did she leave him? Duty. 

Duty comes before everything, and she is an honorable Royce. No matter how rogue her father is. Her mother’s blood rings true. So she had to step away and be the dutiful daughter. Someone in that family had to be. 

“Oh, you seem cheerful” He hears his mother comment beside him. He flinches with an off guard fright, had not heard her come in. “Do I?” He asks, an absentminded smile gracing his face. “Yes” She nods, returning his smile, “What has you so happy”? His smile falters and he gulps. 

The feeling of wanting to keep his fragile friendship with Dove to himself begins his want to shout out to the rooftops. “It’s nothing” He answers, grabbing a piece of bread, stuffing it in his mouth. His mother hates when he or his siblings talk with their mouth full. If he just continues his breakfast, making it, so his mouth is always chewing, maybe she’ll leave it alone. He should know his mother better than that.

He does. 

Queen Alicent squints her hazel eyes down at her son. Does he think, he can get rid of her that easy? She gently shoves his plate far to the middle of his small dining table, out of his reach. “Mother” He protests, a late response for he had to swallow his food before uttering a word to her. “Tell me” She presses, taking the seat next to him. 

Aemond takes in a breath, grabbing one of her hands across the table. His mother made only one comment of Dove, “Of course, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Planted and grown, what did we suspect”. That was six years ago, right after she left the capital. To Aemond it was a criticism of his paternal uncle and half sister. “At the feast I spoke to Dove, we’ve reconciled” He tells her, taking a pause before he continues to see how his mother will react.

‘We’ve reconciled’ Does that mean that there is a chance for her son to marry the girl? “Reconciled” The mother repeats, “What does this mean”? Her son’s lip quirks slightly, “It means that there is still a possibility that we will be wed”. Alicent frowns slightly, he seems so sure. She would hate to sour his mood, but from her understanding the girl is spoken for. 

It was so much easier to explore the possibility, when there was gossip in their favor and a bastard involved. Kermit Tully is no bastard. The boy looks just like his father did in his youth. “What of Kermit Tully?” She whispers, fright creeping into her tone. Her son just shrugs, “What of him”?

“Is she not being courted by him?” The Queen recalls. Her son scoffs, “There is no official contract or agreement” then he smiles, a beautiful smile “She doesn’t want him she told me herself”. Alicent takes in her son’s words and beautiful smile, her hand moving to cup his cheek. “What of her father?” She does not wish to spoil this for him, but she just has to know. Happily, his smile does not falter.

“He has no say in the matters of Runestone” He points out, “All final decisions boil down to the Lady”. The Queen removes her hand from her son’s cheek, and clasps it with the other over the table. No matter what happened in the past, this is still a great match. One that will secure the Vale of Arryn and give her second son a title and Land of his own. If she can secure the Baratheon girl for Daeron, then this will put Aegon on a higher stepping stone than Rhaenyra. 

“That very well may be,” She says, “Let me talk to your father, grandfather, and Dove”. She’ll let the girl speak to her parents, last time the Queen took it upon herself and did not go so well. If this is going to happen, it has to be done right. Also meaning, no foul gossip or any room to destroy the reputation of her son and his betroth. “I must tell you” The mother begins, in a serious tone, she leans in leaving little space “Do not do anything that can sully this. That means staying away from Dove, until I can safely and surely, this match”. 

Aemond nods his head, “Yes, mother”

•XVII•

“Mind if I join?” He hears a foreign male accent ask him from behind. Prince Aemond turns around to meet the pretty face of Kermit Tully. His jaw involuntarily clench’s, at the sight of him.  The one eyed Prince, nods his head, not a sound leaving him. The other young man walks over to the weaponry table and grabs a long sword.

Aemond’s hand grips his sword tightly as he watches him. The young man’s brother may have won the Tourney, but the victory does not extend to him. “Are you sure you want to train with live steel?” Ser Criston asks the guppy. To which the smug little bastard replies, “If I were you, I wouldn’t concern myself with my safety,” with a smirk, swinging the sword with surprising grace. Aemond passes a look of approval to his mother’s sworn shield.

If the guppy wants a challenge, he’s got one. The knight nods his head, taking a step back. The two young men position themselves for the sparring. The Tully heir skillfully wields his sword, the metal swooshing through the air as he swings with confidence. Aemond ducks down, avoiding the blow. 

He balances himself, bouncing back up and taking a step back. Kermit takes a step back of his own, twisting his sword wrist as if to take a crank out. His sky-blue eyes never leaving the body of the Prince. The one eyed Prince watches how the Tully heir does little to guard his body. Leaving an opening for a blow.

Taking the invitation, the Prince swings his sword down at the boy. He is blocked by the Tully heir, who uses his sword to stop the attack. The sound of metal on metal clank loudly across the yard. Attention from others who were training, turns on them. 

With all the eyes on them, Aemond feels a shiver go up his spine. He moves backwards, almost tripping on the rocks in the yard. He watches as the redhead take a step back of his own. Those sky-blue eyes watching his every move closely. 

Why does the guppy want to train with him? Is it simply because he was there, or is it because he wants to show off? Perhaps, he wants to somehow give some warning. Aemond doubts that, he would not dare harm him. If not for honor, then for Dove.

For Aemond, she is the only reason he is going easy on the boy. Kermit steps closer, swinging his sword with a fierce determination. The tip of the blade comes in close contact with the Prince’s chin. It would've gotten a good slice on him, if he didn’t move his head backwards just in time. Staggering backwards with a grunt and the boy is on him.

The one eyed Prince has to be quick on his feet to escape the continuous swings. Blocking with his sword, then using his foot to kick at the boy's leg to get him to back off. The kick does just that, making the Lordling stagger. Much to his credit, the boy does not fall, nor does his defense. Aemond steps back, watching Kermit closely.

The boy does his wrist motion once more, swinging the sword as he cranks it.  Why does he do that? Is it some good luck charm? He knows Criston to kiss his silver tag necklace three times before a battle or practice. Seeing this as an opportunity, the Prince charges forward, swinging his sword down hard on the blade of the boy’s sword. 

The sword falls from his hand and lands with a loud clatter. The boy looks up at him with wide eyes filled with… amusement? Then he chuckles and claps his hands together. “Well done, my Prince” The Tully Heir congratulates him. The crowd joins him, clapping for the victory of their Prince. Aemond nod’s his head in sportsmanship. 

The Prince turns his head to search the crowd for his cousin, but sadly comes up short. “You were a worthy opponent” He turns to tell the redhead. The guppy lets out a snort. “Please” He chuckles, showcasing his perfect white, chipped teeth, “My brother is the real warrior. You will not question worth when you have a go with him”. The one eyed Prince nods, “Then I should welcome the possibility to spar with him”. 

“He would surely appreciate it” Kermit says. He then looks around the crowd, no doubt trying to find the same face as the Prince. The guppy’s freckled nose scrunches in what seems to be disappointment. For a moment, Aemond feels bad for him, for he can understand. However, that was just for a moment.

•XVII•

Sansa watches as the page knocks on the door to Queen Alicent’s chambers. The Queen had sent him over to fetch her and extend in invitation to dine the noon meal with her. The Queen bids her to come in, and the young man opens the door for and closes it behind her once she’s in the room.

“Dovey” Her aunt greets, a gentle smile on her face. “Your Grace” The young Lady greets back. She looks over at the person dining table. Two plates of salad, along with fruit, marmalade, and cheese toast are sat across from each other. “Is Helaena not joining us?” She asks, she was so sure her cousin and her babies will be here. 

The Queen shakes her head, “No, the youngest Maelor is sick and refuses for her to leave his side”. Ah, so she’ll be dining with the Green Queen alone. Truth be told, after her last talk with the older woman and leaving the capital, she’s a bit too ashamed to face the mother. Aemond’s mother. 

The older woman gestures for her to take the seat, her big hazel eyes watching as she does. “Prayer?” She asks, knowing better than to just eat in front of the Queen. The older woman shakes her head, “The food has already been blessed. Go on eat”. Sansa grabs her fork, as does Alicent. The both of them take to eating the salad first. 

Some time goes by, the two eating in complete silence. The young Lady notices how the Queen glances up at her once in a while. “How have you been?” The older woman asks, the girl. It’s been awhile since she’s been in her presence. Dove looks up at her, a small smile appears on her lips. 

“I’ve been good” She answers, “Growing… strong each day”. Alicent has noticed, the girl is tall. Maybe an inch or two shorter than Aemond. The girl favors that tree she prays to. “And Kermit Tully? How is that going” She catches the girl’s face scrunch at the realization of why she is truly here. 

Dove lets out a sigh, “Aemond told you about our talk”? 

The Queen nods, “Yes, he has”. 

“And what did he tell you of it”?

“That you chose him, whatever that might mean”.

Sansa lets out another sigh, “Yes, I have”. 

Did she? After her talk with Aemond, she sat right back down next to Kermit. Talked to him, laughed with him, danced with him and when it was time to go back to the castle it was him who escorted her back to her chambers. Yet, it was Aemond she was thinking of during all of it. It was Aemond that she thought of when she was alone.

“So, does this mean that you will set aside Kermit Tully, in favor of my son?” The Queens asks, from her understanding, this is no official match. With Viserys on board to bless a union between His son and Daemon’s daughter, there should be no issue. So why does it seem the girl is hesitant? “Or perhaps you want to marry the Tully heir and just have Aemond on the side line” the words come out before she can put a stop to them. 

“No” Dove defends, her face contorting with insult. “So why does it seem you can’t decide?” Alicent presses, making the girl's face red. Shock? Embarrassment? Anger? 

“It’s not that”!

“Then what could it possibly be”?

“If I get married my life is over, my position is gone” The girl all but cries, “I will no longer be just Lady Targaryen or a Princess by my father. I’ll just be Lady wife”.

Alicent watches as the young Lady tries to remain her composure. Try to stop the tears from evening, forming. What a familiar scene. 

I like to believe I’m still the Lady Alicent 

She’s watched this before. A hundred times over. Knows how it ends. She doesn’t like the ending. She thinks of the last time they have spoken. The girl was so reluctant of the match. 

The Queen can now see it is marriage, she is reluctant of. From such a young age, the girl has this morbid idea of marriage, and it’s whole. The Queen leans forward, reaching over the table and grabbing one of the girl's hands in a gentle but firm grip. “I know that it may seem scary, I was terrified myself, but I overcame it, and it wasn’t so bad. Your mothers and Helaena as well.” She comfortably begins, “And there is a sense of pride in fulfilling your duty”.

Sansa, wipes at her eyes with her other hand. A small smile appears on her lips. “Thank you” She whispers. “You’re welcome, Dear” Alicent, smiles back. With a part of her expression is rooted in victory. 

•XVII•

A soft knock on his bed chambers door steals Aemond’s attention from his book. It must be his mother, only she will disturb him at this time. The Prince opens his door to a redhead. Only it isn’t his mother. It’s Dove. 

“Dovey” He breathes out, “What are you doing here”? Sansa lets out a breath of her own. He isn’t wearing his eye patch. A small smile appears on her lips at the gem he wears for her. A small part of her hurts at the thought that he may only have started back wearing it. 

“I wanted to see you” She answers. There it is again, ‘wanted’. How can one word hold so much weight? “Come in” He invites, stepping aside for her to cross the threshold into his room. It’s a good thing he sent his guard off for the night. 

He closes the door and turns to face her. It is the hour of ghosts, most of the castle has settled in their rooms for the night. His cousin wears the dark blue dress that she was wearing for the day. It’s interesting to see her grow out of her youthful style. Though, back then it was more mature.

Funny, how now entering adulthood, she lets a playful side show. Though, he was always granted a playful side from her. Although the Tully’s sport blue, he can’t help but think that it is for him. “Why do you want to see me at this hour?” He asks her. Not that he has much of a complaint about this. 

“I spoke to your mother today” She tells him, “We had a fascinating conversation. Agreement really”. His eyebrow arches with intrigue. “Was it about us?” He already knows the answer to that. She knows that. That’s why she playfully rolls her eyes. 

Then she nods her head, “Yes”. Now it’s his turn to be playful, “You’re speaking to my mother about me? Hm, then I shall be on my best behavior”. She giggles, shaking her head, “Yes, you should”. Her smile drops, her eyes, however, stay soft and lit up. “I’ve missed you” She confesses. A flutter low in his stomach comes alive with her words.

He blinks his eye, as if when he reopens it, she’ll be gone. However, that quick second of darkness is lit up by her presence. This is not a dream. Dove’s face contorts into a shy expression, “Say you miss me ba—“

“I miss you” He rushes out before she can finish her sentence. Then with three long strides, he’s in front of her. He takes his right hand and gently cups her cheek and part of her head. “Of course I’ve missed you” He says, looking down at her. I’ve spent years missing you. 

He watches the exact moment her eyes light up. As if they are just coming to life. Her hand comes up to clasp his wrist. “Really?” Her voice wavers. Does she truly not believe me? He nods his head, “Truly”. 

“What of Kermit Tully?” Sansa asks him. As much as she wants to be with Aemond, she can’t help but feel a sense of loyalty is owed to the Tully’s. They are her Kin, after all. The one eyed Prince pulls a face, like he just tasted something gross. “You were never going to marry him” He says, “How many years has this been in the works? You were hoping that I would come for you”.

“So why didn’t you”?

“I would have” He tells her, and it is the truth. Eventually, he would have come for her and he knows, she knows this. “He’s my friend” She says, “I feel bad”. Aemond shrugs his shoulders, it’s not a problem of his. “Don’t, he’ll be fine” He tells her because it’s true, “There are plenty of Ladies for him to choose from”. 

“And you choose me?” She asks, a silly question since he’s unwed. He looks at her as if she grew a second head. “Are you mad?” He questions, “Why on earth would I pick someone besides you? I may have one eye, but I am not blind by any means”. 

She giggles, moving her face closer to his. He can feel her breath on his lips. “Marry me” It’s not a question, but she answers it all the same. “Yes”.

Aemond tilts his head slightly and his lips captures Sansa’s. And she has never felt a happiness closer to this.

> I'm alright here in your arms, darlin'

 

Notes:

Pomegranates- Pomegranates are symbolic of resurrection and life everlasting. The pomegranate has closed ties into the Greek mythology of Persephone and Hades.

Also, why are we acting as if Dove isn’t an actual name? I don’t care if it wasn’t used in that time period. How would you know that? Also, is this not a FANFICTION, emphasis on FICTION derived from a Fantasy FICTION novel? That I would like to add isn’t all the way historically accurate itself. Some of y’all don’t know how to have fun and this is why a bunch of people don’t want to join the fandom or leave it. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. I’m not pressuring you, we’ll all be just fine, I promise you. Leave the story for those who do like it and get it. Go and touch GRASS please!!

Chapter 18: WILDFIRE IV

Summary:

In 130 A.C It is reported by Septon Eustance and serval others of court that the Lady of Runestone is to Marry King Viserys I second Son.

Notes:

We've paid the price of this cruel device
'Til we've nothing left to pay- The angry river: The Hat, Father John Misty

Sansa moves ever so slightly, careful to not disturb the young man sleeping under her. She lifts herself up about an inch balancing her body on her hands alone. Aemond, none the wiser of her shifts a blissful hum comes out his lips. 

Oh, dear Prince. 

She cannot stop herself from lightly moving forward to lay back on his chest. Her right-hand moves from its position above his head and lightly touches the high cheekbone of the man. 

Dear sweet Prince.

My dearest sweet friend. 

The shock is lingering in her bones, and mind. He’s her husband. Soon to be husband. Betrothed, technically but only in name really. They are married. 

They may not have consummated but they will soon. What good is consummation, when they are already connected as two? Her hand moves up to caress the corner of his jeweled eye. Sapphire and Amethyst, he carries just like her. A romantic gesture unlike any other.

Has anyone ever been so passionate of her and their feelings regarding? Joffrey Baratheon , Harry the heir, Tyrion Lannister and even Sweetrobin don’t even come close. They’ve never wanted her beyond being a means to an end. Aemond however, only wants her. That she is sure of.

The way he kissed her. Never has she ever been kissed, the way he had. Thinking of the past affections bestowed on her makes her think of Petyr. No, Lord Baelish, she shouldn’t be familiar with the little memory she has of him. She never gave him as much as a thought, here in this new life. 

Yet with the decrease in her past life and the memories she once held, he came back to life. When the pen hit the paper he was the first she thought of. How can he not be when he had been the center of her world for years?

She retracts her hand from the sleeping man’s face to wipe at her own. Tears are a natural occurrence when thoughts of Lord Baelish come to mind. Even in his passing all he can ever do for her is bring her sorrow. Aemond will never, she decides on his behalf. 

She restarts her previous attempt of raising herself off of him. As much as she would like to stay on the firm chest of her cousin, it wouldn’t be proper. She lifts her left leg up out of the tangle of limbs and unto the bed. Halfway hovering over the sleeping body beneath her is when a hand snakes over her waist.

She lets out a low squeak then chuckles as she’s pulled down. “I have to go” She smiles down widely at the man beneath her.

“Mm, no, stay” He protests, his voice thick with sleep. Low and husky. Very manly, perhaps even beyond what a man should sound like. She chucks again shaking her head no.

“I have too” She tells him, bringing her hand back to trace his lips lightly “It’s the hour of ghosts, I can’t linger here. Before we both know it, it’ll be dawn and Ser Hunter will go mad looking for me”.

“Hmm, can you imagine the frenzy?” He smirks, “And the look on my mother’s face when she catches us sneaking together once more”.

Sansa giggles loudly, “Gods no, she’ll never forgive us or want to hear anything after she gave her blessing”.

“But she gave it” He says, happily.

Yes, she did. But there is more than one parent to be involved in this. Oh, how will she tell her parents? Rhaenyra won’t be happy, and Daemon…

Will she be disowned? She doubts it, but she is sure that their already strained relationship will be left in strands. 

“Yes she did” Dove whispers almost nervously “But there are more parents than your mother”.

Aemond nods, his hand slides above her bottom. He then moves it soothingly up and down her back. “It’ll be alright, we will be alright” he assures her. This moment is a bit more intimate than the others from the past. Maybe it is the first moment they have had after all guards have been torn down.

Not for Aemond but for Dove. He knows her truly. Inside and out. He doesn’t need a wedding or a consummation. Not when he has her heart intertwined with his. Always has been. 

She cups his jaw lightly and leans down to take his lips with hers. It’s sweet and gentle. A parting gift. She pulls away her dual eyes boring into his one. So many words said and understood. 

She closes her eyes like this exchange is too much for her. Possibly it is. Though it’ll never be enough for him. 

She moves up a bit leans down and sets a kiss on his forehead. She moves off him swiftly, and before he can stop her to hold her to him, longer. She’s gone.

•XVIII•

“It’ll be alright, love” Aemond says soothingly, his hands sliding down her arms in comfort “It’s one breakfast then you and my mother will be planning our joyous occasion”.

Sansa smiles sweetly, but her fingers grip her sigil ring tighter. Because she knows what this meal will ensure. Her dual color eyes stare into the dining room through the cracked door. She spies her father engaging in a conversation with his wife, a soft smile on his face as he speaks to her. 

It’s been two days since Aemond made the proposal for her hand, and she accepted it. In those two days she fretted how she would tell her parents. 

“There is no fear, really” The one eyed Prince adds. The young woman scoffs, her head cocks up to look at him “Easy for you to say, you won’t get disowned”. It’s his turn to scoff, “You’re being dramatic”. 

“Do you really believe that” Her eyebrow arches then she turns her head to look back into the dining room. 

Two things can be true at once. Aemond knows that his betroth’s father is rash, just like he knows she has a flair for the dramatic. 

“Mm, it’ll be alright” She is about to interrupt him, but he puts a hand on her shoulder gently and says “Because I’ll be right with you”. His amethyst eye looking into the dining room. At the table where their family sits and the two empty chairs, seated right by each other.

Dove does not answer him she just puts the hand that was by her chest over his own. She gives it a slight squeeze before dropping it and enters the room. He stays behind for a moment watching her walk gracefully with her head held high. 

My brave girl

“You’re late” he hears his uncle address his daughter, the older man sits up straighter, his pale lilac eyes assessing her “You look cute”. 

Cute? She looks positively ravishing. Though Aemond is sure that to a father, that’s all their girl can be. When was the last time Viserys ever pay Helaena such a compliment? 

Dove makes her way around the table. She starts with the King a kiss planted on his blotchy grey face. Then she kisses the Lord Hand, Ser Otto smiles at her triumphantly. Reminding the couple of the significance of this meal. Then she goes to the Queen, his mother’s smile is softer than her father’s, but it still holds the smugness.

He notices that she stiffens as she makes her way to her good-mother. The kiss comes with a hug, and he’s sure she’s offering a good morning. Rhaenyra lets out a soft chuckle and plants a kiss of her own on the older girl’s cheek. The last is the older girl’s own father, Prince Daemon.

“You’re feeling really affectionate” The father quips, causing the family that belongs to him to chuckle. Dove gives him a playful shove before she leans down to kiss her father on the cheek. The father turns his face up towards her leaning forward to his girl. And then she hugs him, this hug lingers and the One eyed Prince can tell she holds him tight.

Her head leans on her father’s shoulder and he sees the Rogue Prince close his eyes and plant a kiss on her hair. 

Aemond squirms uncomfortably at the sight. Since when were they so affectionate with each other? He tries to think back to a time when Dove ever spoke of this side of her father. She’s never spoke of this he’s sure and he’s never seen it. 

Come to think of it, when has Dove ever spoken to him about her father?

When the pair separate, the father’s hand lingers on his daughter’s forearm. He sees his mouth moving but, the younger man can’t make out what is said and from the looks of it no one else can either. The daughter shakes her head then turns it towards the door and him before making her way to her seat.

Aemond takes that as his cue to join his betroth. He enters the dining room, causing the members at the table to turn towards the door. The first thing he notices when he takes the seat next to Dove, is, his father smiles. A half, rotted grey smile. It turns his stomach.

The food isn’t even at the table, and he's already wanting to regurgitate it. 

“Aemond” His mother greets him, the same smile she gave to Dove reappears “Good morning to you”.

He gives her a small smile and nod in acknowledgment. “Why are you late” Aegon asks, his eyes darting from him to Dove. The younger brother shakes his head, “Don’t”. The older brother throws his hand up and a mock surrender, his expression matching his gesture. 

The one eyed Prince turns his head to his betroth for her reaction. The little minx just smiles, gives a shrug. Aegon snickers with amusement, no doubt enjoying that his insinuation is confirmed. Aemond groans, he feels his betroth lay a hand on his thigh giving it a gentle squeeze. 

It’s mild and done with a thought in mind. However, to Aemond it’s still too informal to be displayed in public. So he moves his leg prudently. She understands his message, removes her hand, clasping both of her hands in front of her on the table. 

He comprehends that she’s used to overt displays of affection outside the privacy of one’s home. However, he will deter her from bringing this type of behavior into their family and union. It’s not fitting for a woman of her stature. 

Sansa rubs the knuckle of her thumb against her palm. Heat gathers at her forehead and neck, from nerves and embarrassment. How foolish of her to seek comfort from Aemond in front of her father. Though her sweet Prince likely was not comfortable with her choice, she can’t help but be grateful for his prudish reaction. And choose to think that maybe he also knows it’s not wise to be affectionate before the announcement of their upcoming union. 

The doors open and the servers pile in with trays of food. The Lady of Runestone straightens her posture beyond as they set down the silver trays. 

She set to work yesterday with all the little details she gathered over the years. All of Prince Daemon’s and Princess Rhaenyra’s favorite food to eat during the first meal of the day are displayed on the table. Maple bacon, wheat cakes with raspberry compote, dornish styled eggs with spiced cheese sauce, spiced boiled beans and toast, and Blood orange juice mixed with ale. A bribe, if anything. Or to soften a blow.

She turns her head slightly, getting a little glance of their reactions. They don’t seem to notice the pattern of the display, or maybe they do and see nothing wrong with it as the King indulges in the same taste. 

The meal goes on for an hour or so, it feels. Everyone converses with the one closer to them, and Sansa starts to feel relax. Baela is a stellar conversationalist, and over all great storyteller. To which the older sister is grateful for, as she cannot today.

Her eyes look over to her Targaryen father, and she can’t help but try to rack her mind for what Eddard Starks reaction will be. Would he even like Aemond, the man she has chosen for herself? Trust her judgment and not hold an opinion or prejudice against him? She will never know.

Aemond scoots his chair back, he then places a socially acceptable kiss on her cheek before standing up to his full height. Despite whatever is thought of him, he commands everyone’s attention. 

“I have an announcement” He begins, he grabs his glass “The reason you were all invited to gather here and join me for this meal is so that I can tell you the wonderful news that will bring together our family”. 

He turns his head to look down at her a small smile on his lips, “I am to marry the Lady Dove”.

Helaena is the first to react a tiny squeal coming out of her mouth before her little brother finished his sentence. “Oh, this is wonderful!!” She exclaims, a jeweled hand comes to rest upon her heart, “I knew it. Dreamt of it”.

“Here, here” Aegon offers raising his glass in the air. 

As the Queen Alicent begins to make her congratulations, A sharp authoritative “No” interrupts her. It’s like all noise and air was sucked out of the room. Every head turned to look at Prince Daemon who’s seated at the end of the table. Her betroth raises an eyebrow at her father, “No”?

“No” Daemon replies, less authoritative but the sentiment lingers. He leans forward taking his glass and sips his sweet ale. Aemond shrugs, “Mm, if only you had such grip”.

“Aemond” Sansa whispers the plea, her dual colored eyes fill with tears as she looks at her father. The Older Prince wears a cool expression but if the white-knuckle grip on his glass tells her anything, he’s ready for the younger to be bold.

The One eyed Prince smirks at his uncle. Come, old man, do it. He should not want to scrap with his father-in-law but if he wants the fight Aemond will give it to him. 

Especially when Daemon has been a thorn in his side for years. He’s the reason for Dove leaving all those years ago. The reason for her secrecy and most importantly for that fucking guppy cunt. 

He could strike him down right here. Though, that would not be wise and Aemond would not be foolish enough to lose everything, for him. So, he just looks the Rogue Prince up and down in disdain, then takes his seat.

“This is a good match” The King Viserys wheezes, “This… this is the match from before”? The sickly King turns to his wife, pointing at the young couple sat in front of them. His mother nods, giving his father a small smile, “Yes, my love”. 

“I don’t think this is wise?” Rhaenyra speaks up, her indigo eyes dart back and forth from Aemond and Sansa. 

Alicent’s face turns up in a snare, “Why is that”?

“People are dying in the streets and you want a wedding? Putting my daughter in jeopardy of a mob revolting because we will have yet another celebration so soon” The woman Heir elaborates. 

The Queen’s hazel eyes widen with ire, her gold jeweled hand drops from her husband’s hand. She turns full body to face the Princess who’s seated next to her. 

“You through a tourney flaunting the wealth of your family and position as the body’s on those streets you wish to rule go cold. Where was the sympathy then?” She rages, spit flying from her mouth as she does. 

The fair-haired woman’s eyes squint at the scrutiny, “The tourney was a healthy distraction from every one of the worries of the realm. For my father, whose health declines every day. And I paid my respects and offered the humility that I can”.

The darker haired woman scoffs, “Ah yes, the leftovers from the feast. Oh, what Morsels of scraps can do”. 

Rhaenyra scoffs, her face contorts in irritation. “I fed the bellies of many starving folk” She defends, setting her fork down harshly. The silver charger rings due to the force. 

“And how long does that last?” Alicent presses, “Two or three days”?

“Stop with this incessant fighting!” The King hoarsely shouts. The woman heir is the first to turn fully back into her seat and pick up her fork. The Queen, however, remains facing the Princess with an expression filled with loathing.

“Dove was once promised to Aemond no… And to Jacaerys the girl is the Lady of Runestone she needs to marry if not Aemond then Daeron perhaps they are of the same age” He suggests, pointing a scar ridden finger at his youngest son. 

Sansa groans at the dismissive tone used to regard her and her future. A heavyweight settles on her chest as she stares at the King across from her. Her eyes move to the left of the King, to Queen Alicent whose eyes are closed tightly. 

‘Dove was once promised to Aemond’ he had said. Which no doubt was a plot devised by the Queen and her party. A secret plot. One that was kept hidden from even the girl’s parents.

“Aemond and Dove were to marry? I was not made privy to this information prior” Her stepmother asks, setting her fork down to face the woman on her right.

“It’s nothing” The Queen dismissively says, with a shake of her head.

“Dove is promised to Kermit Tully” Daemon speaks up, his tone harsh. His features are schooled, and if Sansa didn’t know her father so well she would’ve been fooled. She knows him better than most though, he’s pissed. Beyond, perhaps.

“Not formally from what I understand” The Lord Hand speaks up. Her father’s eyes dangerously squint at the man words. She tosses a look of pity at the man down the table. 

“Did your spies tell you that?” The Rogue Prince accuses, “it matters not if she is or if she’s not. I know my daughter, this was not discussed with me”.

“The matters of Runestone are of no concern to you” Ser Otto pushes.

“Please” Sansa pleads to the man. ‘Please just leave it be’! 

Daemon scoffs, “And my household is no concern of yours. This is not a matter of Runestone. It is a matter of my child and her future”. 

The Hand’s jaw clenches, as he breathes sharply through his nose. Whatever argument he had ready to lay out, he cannot use it. Because he knows Daemon is right.

The Rouge Prince has no claim to Runestone, Lady Jeyne made sure of that. He does have claim to Dove, though. With the sanction laws of Gods and men. 

“This is not formal as well” Her mouth moves faster than her brain. She doesn’t even register that she has said such a thing not until after the sentence is fully out. Not until the sound of Aemond’s sharp inhale reaches her ears.

“I… Mean that, we are presenting this as a proposal, not a decree,” she stammered, attempting to regain control of the situation.

Sansa looks over to Daemon. His eyes scan over her, a hint of what she can only believe to be concern. His mouth, however, is in a scowl, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Well it is granted” The King says with jolly. A sigh of relief and satisfaction leaves the grey Kings wife’s lips. If she were to turn to look at the woman, she’s sure there will be a smile to match. 

“This is wonderful news” The Queen exclaims. It is really. Just not at this moment. 

“Here, here” The Hand cheers, raising his glass. Aegon follows his grandfather’s gesture, most likely for the drama of it all. Helaena and Daeron seem to send genuine congratulations their way. 

Although reluctant, so does her siblings. 

She misses it all. Her eyes still trained on the man down the table. Though it’s like she misses his expressions as well due to the glassiness of her vision. Aemond's gaze is on her, a mixture of curiosity and something else—something unreadable—swimming in his amethyst eyes. 

As much as he hates her shying away from him and downplaying their future and affection for one another, he understands. Daemon Targaryen is no easy man. He knows this, and in so many ways he’s shown his daughter this. She just refuses to accept it.

There’s been a wool pulled over her eyes for so long regarding her father. And Aemond so desperately wanted to pull it off his beloved. He could never understand the need she had for the man who showed her so many times that she holds no true importance in his life or heart.

Perhaps it’s the reason that, he has never had such a luxury. To be so blinded by a better version of his parents. Not his mother, may the Gods bless her. Especially not his father. 

He will admit to himself, and himself only, that there was a bit of jealousy there. On behalf of himself, his brothers even. But especially for Helaena. She and Dove are girls after all, they deserve the gentleness and dreams. Before the world gets to them like it got to his mother. 

Funny enough, Dove and Helaena have always had some hyperawareness about the world. They both grasped the gravity better than most, do or even give them credit for. 

Peculiar girls, those two are. 

He wants nothing more than to protect them. He will, with his life. He knows it. He feels it. He in spite of himself and all the piety he’s learn over the years. Takes his bride’s hand and lifts it to his lips. 

Setting a gentle kiss to her knuckles. He told her everything will be alright, promised it. It is one of the many promises he means to keep. 

•XVIII•

The knock on the door rings urgent. Princes Daemon who sits by the fireplace, stays planted in his seat. His thoughts race with what just transpired an hour before. He’s so wrapped up in his mind that he does not notice his wife opening the door and greeting the person in.

“Kepa” He hears his eldest call out to him in high Valaryian “May we speak”.

His eyes close tightly at the sound of her voice. His eldest daughter. The first child born to him. The one that survive outside their mother’s womb, first. His intelligent, driven daughter.

Oh, how he failed her. 

“Kepa, please” She pleads, in their mother tongue “I need to explain”. She sounds desperate, hopeless almost. He inhales sharply, his heart almost breaking at the sound. Though his pride seems to blossom at this stubborn, proud girl pleading for him. 

“Face me” His little hatchling all but shouts. The moment in which he’s seen her weak, is gone as quickly as it came. He opens his pale lilac eyes and slowly turns his body to face his daughter. She stares at him with irritation, with wet eyes, though no tears will spill.

He knows his daughter enough to know she’ll never shed a tear. Prim and proper this girl is. Always has been. He’s only ever seen her distressed once and even then, she got herself together pretty quickly.

Aemond wouldn’t be able to handle her, she is the Rogue Prince’s after all. 

“Talk” He tells her, his mother tongue rolling out smoothly. 

“I was going to tell you about Aemond—“

“Oh, were you” He interrupts, arching a pale brow.

“Yes! I was—“

“Really? When because it seems this has been in the works for years” He points out, “With me none the lesser”?

Dove shakes her head, a scoff leaving her lips. “I was going to tell you and I honestly had no idea that Alicent and Otto already proposed this match. That is the truth”.

“You’re lying” He accuses, with a scoff of his own. He knows this girl. There is no chance that she would not have any knowledge or inkling of what the Green’s political party has in stored for her. And by the look on Rhaenyra’s face, she doesn’t believe it either.

“I’m not lying” His daughter insists, “I’m not. This shouldn’t even bother you. You are the one who is pushing for me to marry”.

His eyes bulge at that. Raising from his chair and rounding towards her in a quick speed. “Kermit Tully!” His voice raises, “Who you, I should remind brought up him as a fucking prospect”! His wife cringes at his tone, casting him a look of disapproval. He couldn’t care less. 

His daughter on the other hand, faces him head straight. “You pushed for him” She repeats, her eyebrow twitches with irritation “You pushed for Jason Lannister’s son. An Umber! Anyone who wasn’t Aemond because you knew—“

“Yes, I did” He admits, he doesn’t realize what he admits to. All he knows is his daughter’s friendship with that cyclops, if it could be called that, was getting too personal. With her choice of going back to Runestone and having no intention of ever visiting Kings landing again. He saw an opportunity and took it.

And he’ll be damned if she ruins what he’s done for her. All for that boy. 

“You should be thanking me” Daemon sneers, “instead of being fucking ungrateful. You got choices. I gave you options, more than I fucking got”! 

“Daemon!” Rhaenyra chimes in, he waves her off. 

Dove scoffs, the tears raising in her dual colored eyes. “You gave me choices?” Her tone almost mocking, “Well, Aemond is another one. There I chose”.

He shakes his head fiercely, “Don’t give me that shit”.

“You don’t like the Tully heir, you barely acknowledge his father when we were at Riverrun” She points out.

She is right on that. Kermit and all the other Tully’s share this familiarity with his daughter. It’s too much. They’re not kin to them. They’re not vital.

“So, w… what? You’re going to marry Alicent Hightower’s son?” He asks, “That is what you think is best for you”?

“Yes” Her answer is low.

“Why?” He asks, no demands. He demands to know why. Why does this boy have such a hold on her? He knows the answer, he just wants her to say it. 

A pregnant pause fills the room, Sansa stares at the man before her. Her father. An imposter more than anything. Not because he’s not Eddard. But for the reason that he had three formal wives, two loves and denies her one. 

“I love him” she finally whispers, voice trembling. 

The look that crosses Daemon’s face scares her. He looks almost defeated by her words. It makes her scoff internally, like words will be the demise of the great blood wyrm’s rider.

To Daemon, it’s as if his heart dropped to his stomach. He’s not a simpleton, he knows how the world works. He’s always known that his daughters will have to marry. Not only that, but he’s prepared for it. 

How foolish of him to think she was too. All the advice and planning, was all for naught when she chose to align herself with those who mean to destroy their bloodline. 

“You stupid girl” he says, his voice laced with disappointment, his head shakes in disbelief “You stupid little girl”.

“Daemon” Rhaenyra warns, once more.

Dove’s watery eyes widen with anger. “I’m stupid?” She huffs out, pointing at herself.

The father nods his head, “Do you understand what you’re risking, what you’re giving up”?

“For myself? Or for you and Rhaenyra?” She challenges, her face scrunches with vexation.

He can see the exact moment that his daughter’s beautiful face turn to that of that ugly bitch Rhea. A constant reminder that she is not his alone. And with the upcoming nuptials between Dove and Aemond, she’ll be lost to him.

My eldest daughter.

“What does Rhaenyra have to do with this?” He asks, genuine confusion takes his tone “You, yourself told us of what they plot. Of their agenda and you try to deflect by blaming Rhaenyra”?!

“Daemon, lower your voice” His wife hisses, “Let me speak to Dove”.

He puts his hand up to silence her, his eyes still trained on his daughter. The girl shakes her head defiantly. “You don’t have to like it” She tells him, “but we’re getting married soon. It is a good match, and we can join our families—“

“Oh, don’t give me that shit” He hisses, interrupting her “You are handing him your castle, and the title that belongs to your firstborn and bloodline”.

“Your bloodline” She counters, “I’m handing him your bloodline. That’s what you’re trying—”

“I’m trying to PROTECT YOU!!” He shouts, his frustration taking over. 

Does she really think so lowly of him? Daemon knows that his own brother Viserys, had some doubts about him and his loyalty. Hence, why it’s his wife’s claim and future reign that is threatened. 

The tears fall from Sansa’s eyes as she backs away from her father. She never truly knew where she stood with Daemon. There was always something or someone more important to him than her. In her past life as Sansa Stark, she thought she had lost everything at eleven. 

She has practically been by herself since then. Only having herself to solely rely upon. With all the memories that are difficult to recall, the feeling of those years before being back at Winterfell never escaped her.

“That’s enough” Rhaenyra says, a compassionate expression on her face, “Dove come, Alicent wanted to see you later today for wedding planning. I’ll take you to her”.

The younger woman, nods her head. The Queen won’t mind their appointment being pushed up. Her stepmother walks towards her and gently spins her around and guides her out of their bedchamber.

Daemon watches his wife and daughter leave him. His anger still rattles within him. His mind wandering to a past conversation with the Queen. 

‘Aemond and Dove have been sneaking out of their castles to meet one another at night’

Is there more to this? His heart beats wildly as his mind goes to a dark thought. He knows that certain loyalties and ideologies come to life when certain desires of the flesh are acted upon.

Like a missing piece falling back into place. He storms out of his room and down the hallway, exiting the hall that belong to him and Rhaenyra. 

When he arrives at his daughter’s room he doesn’t bother to knock. No guards are posted because they're on her person. He walks into the room on a mission for answers. Completely oblivious to the slight ajar open the door previously had. 

The bed is neatly made no doubt the maids had already done their cleaning. He may not find any blood on the sheets, but he’ll still find answers. 

He bends down getting on his knees, his head hung to look underneath the bed. His sight sets on the unlocked chest. And against his better judgment, he grabs it and pulls it from up under. 

•XVIII•

Rhaenyra holds her stepdaughter’s hand firmly in her own as they walk through the Redkeep towards the Queen’s rooms. She can hear Doves sniffles over the busyness of castles occupants. 

‘Poor little girl’ she thinks to herself.

Unwanted child. In their first weeks at Dragonstone, Daemon let it slip that he had not wanted the girl. It had not bothered her because she herself never wanted children. Not until she was pregnant with Jacaerys. She emphasized with him, felt as if they understood each other further.

Because she saw the way he looked at his girl. He loved her, wholeheartedly. The girl didn’t know how much she was loved by her father. She probably thought less of herself in his eyes because she knows where she stands with him. 

But a child doesn’t have to be their parent’s favorite to be special to them. Dove is just as important and special in their hearts as the rest of their children.

“We don’t have to go to Alicent’s right away” Rhaenyra tells her, “We can go to your room. Just for a moment to clean you up and calm down a bit”.

The younger woman shakes her head. She brings her free hand up to face and gives swipes furiously at her face. “I am fine” She bites out, “Let’s get this over with”. The stepmother nods, giving her a gentle squeeze.

“He loves you” The stepmother says. And Sansa knows this. Daemon does love her, but he does not respect her. 

Rhaenyra then sighs, “He’s just scared. He’ll never admit to it. Men never do. It’s vexing and terribly painful for all of us, but we must not let it tear us apart. We’re family, we are all we truly have, you know this”.

The younger woman stops them abruptly turning to look at her stepmother. “You can’t believe that” She says, “My father… you know him probably better than most. He’s not scared. He’s scarred, he and his ego”.

The older woman shakes her head vigorously, “No, that’s not true. Not even remotely. You’re father—“

“He feeds us shit” Dove cries out, interrupting her. Her hand drops from hers “You can continue to sit there and eat it. I won’t”.

Rhaenyra stares at her in a stunned silence. Her good-daughter scoffs and rushes towards the Queen’s rooms. The woman heir looks around, hoping no one has heard the Lady’s outburst. Usually, Dove is well-mannered, proper. However, she has raised the girl since she was seven. 

She is Daemon’s daughter after all. And from what she’s heard of the late Lady Rhea Royce, this outburst isn’t farfetched. It’s an interesting thing, raising daughters. They’re unforgiving and fierce with their parents. Then they get older and become wives and what they hold their father to, they wouldn’t dare hold to their spouse.

She wonders if Dove would go the route she, herself did. She worries over all of their children. The girls and boys alike. Although, she’s sure her boys will always get the better end of the stick.

The woman heir arrives to the Queen’s rooms, only seconds after her stepdaughter. The young Lady, takes a seat listening to her aunt by marriage talk of her upcoming wedding.

“I have already taken the liberty of rough drafting the invitations that’ll be sent out” The Queen says, she’s trudging through a pile of papers at her small dining table. 

Of course, she’s already been overseeing plans for this union. Rhaenyra internally scoffs as she walks into the room to take a seat next to her stepdaughter.  

“Oh, Rhaenyra, good afternoon” Alicent greets, a small genuine smile on her lips, “Have a seat, take a cookie or have some tea. We’ll be here for a while”. 

She grabs the paper she was rooting for, with an “Ah”, and wider smile. She walks over to her two guests and holds out the paper for Dove to take. 

Sansa, looks over the rough draft of her invitation. It’s simple and dare she say elegant? Beautiful penmanship and gold trimming. Not a sight of green or red. It’s lovely, she’s impressed.

She hands the paper over to her stepmother to look over. ‘See, this is genuine’ Sansa thinks to herself. No ‘infiltrating’, as for now. She thanks the Gods that Alicent has discernment, and read the room when making these plans. Although she’s still not sure if she trusts her future mother-by-law.

Or anyone who isn’t her Prince for that matter, not after today. She smiles softly at the thought of her Prince. Will she get to see him again today? She doubts it. Most of the guards were absent within the castle yesterday, due to the remaining Lords and Ladies leaving from the tourney a fortnight ago. 

Now that there are more than sworn shields, and a handful of Kings-guard, it may be harder for them to sneak around. They’ve worked around it before, but that was just climbing out of the castle. 

Her aunt sets the draft of the invitation down after her stepmother hands it back. 

“Autumn is a beautiful time of the year” The Queen says dreamily, she sits up straighter “Any month of that season will due, although I prefer October”.

Sansa almost gags, “The eighth moon? But… that is seven moons from now”.

The Queen tilts her head curiously, her smile never leaving her face as she does. “Well, when do you want it to be?” She asks. 

“I pictured a spring wedding” The young Lady says, she earns a squeeze of support from her stepmother. It then occurs to her that what Alicent really meant is what month in autumn. 

Her aunt makes a chocking noise from the back of her throat, as her smile falters. She clears it then sighs, “That is next year. I was hoping we would not drag out the festivities and the waiting”.

The younger woman knows why, so that Aemond can father babe on her soon. And with that, his future solidified, as well as Otto’s bloodline. 

“I meant this spring” She tells her, “April or May, either one will be perfect”.

The darker haired woman, shakes her head, “That’s so soon. Spring is so wet and filled with illness it’s bad luck. We shall marry you two when the weather will be promising, the autumn weather is not too hot or cold”.

Sansa would like to marry in spring especially to Aemond. It’s the season of both of their name days. She’ll be eight and ten in a few days, and he’ll turn one and twenty in May. It’s the season when most flowers are guaranteed to bloom. Bugs come out of hibernation and the fruits that she enjoys grow the best.

It’s by far the most romantic period in the year. 

But then she gets a pang of sadness when she looks at Alicent. It’s when she remembers that the Queen married in spring. Suddenly, there’s no more romance to be seen in it for now. 

“I think October is perfect” She says, in a false cheerfulness. 

The Green Queen’s face breaks into a big smile, “Wonderful. I’ll show you the dresses I have in mind”. With that, she grabs the draft of the invitation and gets up, walking over to her dining table.

“You know, your father and I got married in spring” Rhaenyra tells her with a small smile.

She remembers. It was the week after Laena died, in mid-April.  Another memory that diminishes the romance of the season. 

Sansa nods, trying to match her enthusiasm with the facade she must now maintain. 

“I remember” She tells her, “It was rather wet on Dragonstone”. The pale haired woman chuckles, with an added “Yes, it was”. She then leans over and places a kiss on her stepdaughter’s forehead. 

“Dove” Alicent practically sings as she walks back over to them, “These are the sketches of the dresses that I could have worn to my own wedding”. She takes a seat with her arms extended for the young Lady to take. 

Sansa dutifully reaches for the sketches, her fingers tracing the outlines thoughtfully. The first sketch is a dragon silhouette, bold and daring. It lacks the subtly of the final dress design that the Queen had actually worn. 

The second sketch is a very conservative high neck line with dragon scale details. The third sketch is another conservative style, but with three-dimensional flowers that decorate the entire dress and a long train, that will no doubt take four maids to carry.

“You don’t have to have the exact design” The Queen tells her, taking a sip of tea “We’re just getting a feel of what will suit you. Just pick the one you like”. 

She nods and sets the first and third down on the table. “I like the second one” She chooses, “These details are stunning. Thank you, you certainly thought this all the way through”.

The Queen gives her a shy smile, “I didn’t get to plan Helaena’s, his grace and the Lord Hand oversaw the hasty affair”.

The words pull at her heartstrings. Sansa’s past mother did not plan her weddings either, from what she wrote. Neither do Laena nor Rhea get to. She leans forward and takes her aunts gold - covered hand into hers. 

“Well I appreciate it”.

•XVIII•

Sansa smiles softly, staring at nothing as she plays with signet ring. Today ended well, she may count it as a small victory. With this wedding coming up it seems the hostilities between the black and greens will abate for now. 

Only obstacles she can think of after today is her father and Kermit Tully. Who is a fine young man that will be an even finer husband. That she knows. Her heart is a betrayer, it always had that quality. For Aemond’s sake she’ll toss out any thought or notion regarding the boy in that light. 

Sansa opens the door to her room bidding Ser Rhys a goodnight. The dual colored eyes of Dove land on the figure hunched over on the edge of her bed. It is her Targaryen father. What is he doing in here? 

To have another go at dismissing her engagement, perhaps. Her smile wavers, at the thought. She would rather not fight with him, not now, not ever. 

“Father” She greets him “What are you doing here“? She hears a scoff come from him. He turns his head to her, his pale lilac eyes glimmering. 

His face is paler than usual and… wet? Has he been crying? “Father… what?” She is interrupted by his deep voice sharp and quick like his beloved dark sister. “Father?“ She swears she heard his voice cracks, he says the word with so much longing, so much fear. What does a man they call the Rogue Prince has to fear? Have to want.

“Tell me about your day?” Daemon asks her sitting up straighter. His left-hand moves slightly giving her a glimpse of something. She’s not sure what but her tummy churns. He’s gripping it like a vice. Knuckles white with a red bulging palm. 

“Was it everything you dreamed of” His voice taunting, anger rises with each word “Sansa”. 

A breath leaves her with the sound of a name she never thought to hear in this life be said. She stumbles closing the door behind her hard. Her stomach tightens, and her throat starts to close up. 

She can feel sweat forming. Her chest feels heavy like a mountain sits on top of her. Tears gather in her eyes, big and hot, ready to fall at any moment. 

She looks at, her father? 

This just may be, her second death.

> To the poison that they take
The angry river rises
As we step into the rain

Notes:

The entire argument is in Valaryian. I feel like some of the worst arguments with parents are in your native language. Or when you speak English and they speak in the native language. I don’t know much of the language sorry.

Have a great new year!! Enjoy <3

Chapter 19: WILDFIRE V

Summary:

In 130 A.C. The Prince Aemond is publicly promised to his Cousin the Lady of Runestone. At the announcement of his eldest daughter's betrothal to the King’s second son, the Rogue Prince Daemon leaves the capital.

Notes:

You've got a Thunderbird
My daddy had one too
Let's rewrite history
I'll do this dance with you- Textbook: Lana Del Rey

Snow falls around the castle in groups, like they aren’t to be parted with one another. In the early stage of spring, the Vale can still produce snow. A marvel, to those who have never been in it.

In the walls of Runestone, Sansa stands in front of a large mirror as Helaena flutters around her. The smile the older Princess wears is brighter than the moonlight through the window. The ivory dress the younger cousin wears being tightened by her. 

The Lady of Runestone, stares in the reflection of the tall glass object. The girl that stares back at her is not the girl she wrote about. The blue eye is not Catelyn, it is Alysanne. The red patch and streak are not Tully , it is Upcliff. She sees so much, Daemon in herself.

The parts she doesn’t recognize much, is Rhea. She even looks a bit like Rhaenyra. It’s a cruel joke, whomever or whatever brought apart her metempsychosis plays on her. To give her features that belonged to a face that was once hers. To look at it every day and miss what she had, feeling guilt of what she does.

All the while, her memories start to slowly chip away for the new. 

“Oh, I forgot something” Helaena says, walking away from her and out the door. 

Sansa’s eyes watch as she walks off. She twirls the signet ring hanging from her neck as nervousness settles in her belly. Not for today, but for the past and for what’s to come. 

•XIX•

“Was it everything you dreamed of” His voice taunting, anger rises with each word “Sansa”. 

A breath leaves her with the sound of a name she never thought to hear in this life be said. She stumbles closing the door behind her hard. Her stomach tightens, and her throat starts to close up. 

She can feel sweat forming. Her chest feels heavy like a mountain sits on top of her. Tears gather in her eyes, big and hot, ready to fall at any moment. 

“How?” Sansa asks in a small voice. Her heart just now regaining a beat. “You told me” Daemon answers holding his left hand up to reveal the thick brown leather journal she keeps. “You went through my belongings?” Her eyes accusingly narrow at him. His own eyes narrow as if to challenge her.

“How can I not?” He raises the journal high waving it in the air “When you go off and seek the words and wisdom that green whore spits out, against your own father’s”.

“I meant no harm” Is all she says to defend herself. ‘I have no mother, I needed a woman’s advice’. That’s dangerous, Rhaenyra is to fill that role. If she were to make that slip up and to refer to the Queen as more motherly than her own, right after the discovery that he has made. Well, that is just stupidity at its best.

“There is plenty of harm done, Stark” He sneers, her former surname leaves his mouth. Her eyes start to sting as her face starts to heat up. Her slender frame presses against the door. To Sansa fear is not foreign to her, but it is never welcomed. 

“I don't know what you are feeling, " she whispers, her voice trembling, "but that text wasn't meant to hurt anyone”.

He huffs out a rough breath, his head bows down to look at the journal in his hands.

“Sansa Minisa Stark, born in the year 286 A.C to Lord Eddard Harlyn Stark, and his Lady wife Catelyn Victoria Tully” He reads out loud, “Tully. That’s why you were insisting on going to Riverrun making them allies. You still want for them”.

She shakes her head, but it’s true. Isn’t it? She does still have a want for her old life. Although it was a calamitous affair, she wouldn’t dare not miss it. She almost audibly gasps at thought. 

That is what hurts, what she keeps locked up in the deepest part of her mind. That if she were given the chance at a second life as Sansa Stark true to the name and identity, she would take it. No hesitations. She would let Ned take the reins and left for Winterfell or even beg to stay in the first place. 

That’s why she wrote it down, right? To be able to hold on to what she felt was hers? She was meant for Sansa Stark, for Eddard and Catelyn. A daughter of the North. 

The tears start to fall at this moment. The moment where she’s most ungrateful. Maybe she always has been. 

“And who am I?” His voice rattles with emotion, “Just some figure in a fucking history book”. His face and neck are red a warmer contrast to his white knuckles that grip the journal still. 

Sansa, and she is truly Sansa at this moment. She shakes her head. “No, you have always been my father” She confesses, it’s a half-truth. There were times when she would differentiate between family members to herself. So she would not betray those who came first. 

“Haven’t I?” Daemon’s voice sounds so brittle, “Seventeen years I’ve known you, raised you, kept you alive! And yet, you betray me by holding on to a life, a hundred years from now. To a man that you’ve only known for eleven”!

She gasps, if were possible to go any further back, she would have stumbled. But she stayed there frozen in place, her heartbreaking. 

“Please” She whispers the plea, “Don’t speak of him, you don’t know what it was like”. 

‘Watching him die before my very eyes’ is left unspoken.

“I don’t know what it is like” He nods, “You do not tell me. I wasn’t there. It was just a sentence”.

It was simply a sentence, as much as she wants to keep these memories intact. She cannot bear to relive the day she lost her father. Because to her, she lost everything. Although she got Arya, Jon, Rickon, and Bran back. It was never the same. 

How could it be? Innocence was lost to them. Snuffed out in a moments notice. Their safety blanket was nothing, but an illusion. One they can never replicate again, and they so desperately tried. 

In a way, her Targaryen family has provided her another blanket. If it weren’t for the fresh knowledge she had, she would be a green child once more. 

She realizes right now looking at Daemon that she ripped his from him. That what she wrote, what she revealed to him, shattered whatever security he made for them. It’s an awful crime.

“Why do you believe this?” She asks, stepping away from the door.

Too late to ask this question, but she would like an answer. He reviews her with pale lilac eyes, glistening with tears. 

“Your reaction” He replies, and she would have believed him if it weren’t for her observation of his posture and attitude before he said anything to her. 

She shakes her head, “You already knew, my reaction confirmed it, but you read, you digested the words, and you believed them to be true”. 

His hand grips the brown leather book tight, his knuckles turning whiter. If it were possible. 

“It could’ve been just words on a paper” she adds, “You could’ve discounted the tale, you did not. Why”?

Daemon stares at her for a second or two before he sighs shaking his head. “You were so independent” He reminisces, “I was glad. I felt as if I… I didn’t have to coddle you. You proved it, every chance you got. Proved to me that you were strong enough to stand without me”.

She scrunches her face confused. “You always had this way of knowing. Hawk eyes, see whatever you want a mile away. Goes with that damn name of yours” He sighs, his head bows to look at the book once more “Of course you were born with knowledge grown a hundred years from now”.

He raises his head to look at her. She can see the tears clearly as they gather from their ducts. “Maybe it’s why you weren’t given the name, Daelyssa” He shrugs, “Rhea, she was insistent on it. Screamed, cried, that woman raged for fucking weeks when I delayed the documents of your birth record”.

She shakes her head with disbelief, “I never knew”.

He scoffs, arches an eyebrow “Oh, you didn’t? Why would you”?

“Why are you telling me this now?” She asks, “What does this have to do with my past”?

His hand loosens its grip a bit on the journal. His shoulders seem to take in the tension that it releases. A look, that she cannot recognize or describe appears on his face. 

“The Runes, and bronze armor are said to have magic within itself” He tells her, “Just rumors. The Royce’s are said to use this said magic to protect themselves”.

Sansa nods, she’s heard this. An image of Lord Bronze Yohn, comes to mind. Her descendant now? Possibly. 

“The Vale is prevalent to you, Sansa Stark. I’m sure you’ve heard back then” He continues, she’s nods once more, “Rhea had this pendent, ugly old thing. Looked like rusted metal. It was some bronze ‘y’ shaped object. She wore it all the time. Except for two times. Your birth and her death”.

Sansa inhales deeply, her brows furrowing, “I don’t know what you mean by this”.

“We never spoke to you of your birth” He says, it is true. Yet, they have spoken to her of a few things. 

“I won’t share the details, but it was terrifying, for your mother. It is unclear to me why she had the necklace off, but you were not a hearty babe until she put it on you” He explains, his face scrunches at the memory “I thought Lady would have healed you. To an extent, she did, but it wasn’t until that pendent laid on your belly did you get some health”. 

Sansa takes in the words that he’s saying to her. Questions run rampant in her mind, yet she doesn’t know which one she wants to be answered. She can sense that he’s holding back, and she knows her father. He’s never going to let it slip.

“She was hysterical, after your birth” He continues, his discomfort deepening, “You were closely monitored, nursemaids and Maester  Alryk, kept you most hours of the days. Meanwhile, all Rhea talked of was Doves. I thought she has gone simple. In a way, she did. She didn’t even name you a Targaryen or a Royce, just wrote Dove on the paper and turned it over to Alryk”. 

He then turns the book over into his other hand. He looks as if he wants to tell her more, but he doesn’t. She never heard anything of this. Curious child, she was fashioned. No one spoke of her being born sickly or her mother being out her wits. 

But then she remembers that some babes are just born sickly. Targaryens have a few in their batch. Though the look on Daemon’s face tells her otherwise. 

“This pendent, you believe it to have these protective effects?” She asks, watching as he shrugs.

“All I know is that the day she died she had left it with you” He tells her, her eyes widen with the information, “You were sick. I was away, I had not gotten word of your illness until two weeks later when your mother could not bear the sight of your state. She summoned me to Runestone. I arrived the fifth day she was abed. You were fine. Took her health I guess because four days later she passed”.

Sansa admits that she has always been callous about Rhea Royce. She didn’t know much of her. Sporadically she missed her when she craved a mother. How parasitic of her. 

“This is what has you believing me to be someone of the future?” She questions, steering the conversation back to where it originally began.

Daemon nods, then he opens the journal flipping through it for a moment before he lands on what he is looking for. 

“The dead” He starts, and her breath hitches, “Your description of these creatures. The detail of your death. I believe I saw something resembling this”.

Her breath hitches once more. “Y…you have?… when? What did you see—“?

“It doesn’t matter now” He interrupts her, walking towards the door. 

“Wait!” she calls out, he stops and turns to face her, “I have to tell you of your story”.

She owes it to him, or so she thinks. He has read the tale of Sansa Stark and the people of her time, what she’s gathered in her period. He should know of his, and what’s gathered of this period. 

Furthermore, he stands still his arms cross downward, as he waits for her to speak. 

“When Viserys dies, war will break out, these political adversaries will turn on one another” She tells him, in a fast-paced, panicked tone, “All the dragons will die. Most of our family with them. I want to prevent this. I’ve heard whispers in my time that when the dragons died the dead were able to risen once more”.

Daemon gasps, his head turns slightly to the side as he digests what she had shared with him. 

“How”?

How did he die? How did the dragons die? How did this war begin?

Too many questions held in that one word. And she will not answer any. He holds on to some secrets, so it’s only fair she should get to. 

“I’m not going to tell you now” She answers, and he opens his mouth to protest, but she doesn’t allow him to, “I will eventually, but I need you. I cannot have you acting rash”.

He chuckles darkly, “What will you have me do”?

A pit forms in her belly at the thought of the woman. She swallows her pride and jealousy for this duty, to her family and the future of her Houses.

“Harrenhall” She tells him, his eyebrow arches “There’s a witch, a supposed Strong bastard, by the name Alys Rivers. She and Aemond, they originally were… they had relations. She is said to have magic at her disposal. I have a feeling she has a lot to offer us”.

Daemon’s considering her words, from what she can tell. His eyes narrowing as he weighs the risk and reward of seeking aid from such an enigmatic figure. He then nods, in agreement.

“Go to Alys, see if she has any notion of the others” She adds, walking over to him.

She takes his hand in hers. Her eyes shine genuine, “I mean it when I say I meant no harm. Believe this”.

He nods his head, pulling away from her, taking his hand with him. “I’ll burn this” He tells her holding up the journal, “No one else will find it”.

No. It’s the only one she wrote her past in. It holds her memories and what she once and still does hold dear. 

“I can hide it better” She suggests, holding her hand out for him to place it there.

He offers her a nothing but a look. He turns on his heels, swiftly and as his hand grips the handle she calls out to him. 

“You should go back to Runestone” He tells her, his head to turns to face her, “Rhaenyra will be fine without you, for now”.

A confused look flashes across her face. Had she not just told him of their fate? He is off to the Riverlands and now she to the Vale? Leaving Rhaenyra alone in Kingslanding with no one but the dying King.

However, what can they really do? Daemon fought and Daemon died. Sansa fought and Sansa Died. A strange pang hits her in the chest. The thought of dying. They’ve all done it once before. 

“Daemon” Her voice gentle and firm, “you must not tell anyone this information. It’s our burden to bear together”.

A sarcastic smile, appears on his lips, “You needn’t worry Lady Stark, I won’t tell your precious Prince”.

She rolls her eyes at him, “It’s not him I’m worried about, but I appreciate it”.

His eyes squint confused, his mouth sets as if he’s about to say something, but he decides against it. 

Instead, he nods and exits, leaving the echo of their conversation in the dimly lit chamber.

•XIX•

The morning after Daemon’s discovery was one of the hardest days of Sansa’s life as Dove. If she can even be called that. The tears well in her eyes at the thought of the information she received. She knows what her father feels about her mother. She also knows she has to take whatever he says about her with a grain of salt.

Likewise, she has been around her father long enough to know his tells. He spoke the truth, or at least he believes to be true. Yet, he did not tell her the full extent of the story. Her heart is torn between loyalty and the need for truth. 

Although their parting seemed peaceful, Sansa knows better. She knows that Daemon is reeling on the fact that she was never meant to be his. Originally, Rhea and Daemon never spawned children, it was even speculated that they never consummated their marriage. 

Now he has a permanent anchor to that failed union.  

Doomed child, she is. 

None of the past matters really. Not hers with the Stark's and not his with Rhea. Whatever they feel towards the secrets they’ve kept from each other, one thing remains the same. They will protect each other and their secrets. She knows it and he does too.

It should be a blessing really. For who can she trust with such a task more than Daemon? He’d go to this mysterious witch, and he’ll get his insight on her death and rebirth.

She slips off her bed, her knee already touching the cool stone. It kisses her with a might that will bruise as she lands. She pulls the chest from underneath her bed. She will have to get rid of the contents within it. Her insides tie into a knot as she opens the chest.

The first box is uncovered, the heavy book which once occupied it now gone. She sets it down beside her on the cool floor, her eyes still in the chest. She picks up the next box, taking it out of the chest. 

Her father must have not looked into this one yet. She takes off the top and sets it back in the chest. Sitting down on her legs as she sets the box on her lap. It’s all the letters she has received from Aemond. Handful upon handful of paper birds, inside them messages.

Of his day, of his studies, updates of Helaena and her life, and, questions about her. Perhaps she will write him one of her departure, as she should not be clinging to the Redkeep for long. She smiles as she grabs one. 

Dearest Dove, 

I miss you more than anything. Especially today. My nameday was a good one. I got a new sword that was forged in Volantis, according to grandfather. Helaena has gifted me a red leather eye patch, although I’m sure I will not be wearing it. As the one you gifted me is my new favorite.

She smiles softly her finger traces his words as she continues to read. 

Aegon, however, he took me to a brothel. The one deep in flea bottom, by the stream of shit and piss. There was this woman and—

She groans setting the paper down harshly next to her. The letter can’t make a full bird as it was folded when first given to her. Due to her being so upset of the contents on it, she ripped the bottom half in her rage. That was the day she fully allowed herself to hate Aegon. The day she realized that even Prince’s aren’t guarded by the deviance of other men.

He tried to make it seem as if he didn’t mind going. As if it were a perfect gift for a growing boy. She knows, Aemond, more than anyone else does. He didn’t want it. 

She turns her head to grab the letter to toss back into the box. Her eyes catch the ripping of the box that once held her journal. Her eyebrows furrow confused as she picks it up to examine it.

As she brings it up to face she notices that there are teeth marks. This isn’t ripping. Something was biting away at this box. 

A knock on the door pulls her into reality. “Coming” She announces as she scurries to get everything back to the chest. 

“Milady, it’s time to get ready for the day” The handmaiden, that is Helaena’s announces. 

“Come in” She bids with a huff, shoving the chest back underneath the bed. 

The door opens in a second and in comes the sweet young blonde. She gives a clumsy curtsy and smiles sweetly. In her hands is a fern green colored fabric. 

“Good morning, Lady Targaryen” she greets, then raises the fabric with enthusiasm, “The Princess Helaena has gifted you a dress for today”.

Sansa’s brows furrow for a second at the gesture of her cousin. Then she remembers, there is to be an announcement of her upcoming wedding. 

The dress in the handmaidens hands is beautiful. It is fashioned for the Princess Helaena, herself, no doubt with its conservative, silhouette. She walks towards the girl and the dress, her hand caressing the soft fabric. 

“It’s beautiful” The girl gushes, her eyes wide as she stares at the dress. Sansa imagines this may be the most expensive item the girl may ever hold. Saddens her, the damn thing can feed her family for four months. 

A sting of guilt pangs her as she takes the dress from the girl. Most lowborn have been affected by the riots and violence down in Fleabottom. 

It’s for the good of the country, however. Yet, that sentiment is a comfort to no one apart from herself. 

After she is bathed on the request of herself, she dressed in the gift of her cousin. The maid fashions her hair in the style of the Ladies of the Crownlands. A bronze hairpiece decorated with peridots is placed in the middle of her head. Then she slips bronze bracelets on her arms, peridot studded earrings into her ears, and one peridot ring onto her finger.

Only when the girl reaches up to her swan neck and, try to unclasp her chained signet ring, did Sansa interfere. “Not this” Is all the Lady has to say. The handmaiden nods her head in obedience and moves on to cosmetic items.

•XIX•

After court, Sansa wrote a quick letter of her departure and had it delivered to Aemond. A cowardly approach, she recognizes, but what was she to do? She had no worries apart from him, when she departed, as Daemon had made the arrangements for her.

Unknown to everyone. Rhaenyra and her siblings take pity on her. Believing that she and Daemon parted on bad terms. That the upcoming marriage between Aemond and her had brought out old habits of the Rogue Prince. 

In away, they had parted on shaky terms. No one needs to know that. No one should know of what is to come. If her fears are to be founded.

Sansa, let’s out a slow soothing breath before she knocks on the door to the laboratory of Maester Alryk. She hears a grumble from the other side before the door opens revealing the old shrunken man.

“My Lady” He greets with a smile, “Come in, come in”.

She steps into his laboratory her eyes immediately scanning the room for the shelf of records. “I had no notion that you would be back” He says, closing the door behind her. She shrugs, her eyes still scanning the man shelves that are not labeled for the public.

“The tourney is over” She explains Turing to face him, “It’s time to resume my duties”.

He nods, letting out an “Ah” before his gray bushy eyebrows furrow. “Your name day is coming up” He says, “I thought you would be with your father”.

A small tradition. Every year, on the month of her birth she would spend the entirety with her father. It has always been that way from what she remembers. A sudden heavy saddens burst through her chest. This will be the first year, that she has not spent a name day with her father.

She does not answer out of the fear her words may come off rude. Instead, she gives a shake of her head. “I come here with the hope that you may help me with something” She says, not alluding to what she wants, she watches as he nods stepping closer, “I would like to take a look at my birth records”.

His eyebrows furrow once more before he nods and walks across the room. He stops in front of the big metal file cabinet with beloved Royce bronze runes engraved on it. 

She turns her body to face him watching as he opens the second drawer with a key. He pulls the drawer out then swiftly grabs the document he was looking for.

“Here you are my Lady” He says, handing it over to her.

Sansa looks down at the paper with a curious expression. The standard information, her birthdate, the year, sex, time of day, and, her estimated length, and weight. Her eyes scan down to what should be her parent’s signatures in their penmanship. What stands out to her is the name of the babe is just Targaryen.

No first or second name listed. Just the surname. Her eyebrows furrow confused. This is odd, her father said Rhea wrote ‘Dove’. Her head shoots up to look at the man before her.

“There is no first name” She tells him, turning the document over for him to see.

He does not reach for it only nods. “Yes, My Lady. A mistake on my hand”.

His head casts down as if he scared she will strike him. She will do no such thing. She turns the document around once more, scanning it as if what she wanted to see will appear. It doesn’t, and she cannot afford to be upset about it. 

“I beg pardon, Maester Alryk” She says, setting the paper down and casting her eyes down demurely, “I would ask of you to speak plainly on this matter, as I need truth. No, minced or honeyed words”.

Alryk nods, almost eagerly, “Yes, yes, my Lady” he agrees. 

She nods, picking the document up once more and turning it for its contents can face him. 

“I was told my late mother, had written Dove, my name on this document replacing Daelyssa” She tells him, watching as his hunched back straightens “Do you know why that is”.

“You’ve talked to your father” He concludes. His expression deadpan, as his eyes still train on the paper. Her eyebrows furrow confused, and she nods with a “Yes”. 

The old man lets out a deeply tired sigh. His age becomes more apparent with that little action. 

“She scrawled it in big letters unlike her handwriting, I had replaced the document your father ripped after your mother destroyed the original with that” He tells her, he then points at the document she has in hand “I could not put anything but your surname. My apologies for my indolence, my Lady. I should have gone back and wrote a first name”.
 
That explains why her parent’s signatures aren’t in their handwriting. It doesn't be on the matter of Rhea’s behavior. Not really.

“Do you know why my mother did what she did” She asks, he makes a face, no doubt debating a lie, “I gave you permission to speak plainly”.

He nods, then clears his throat, “I’ve known your mother a long time. She was older than most but still young when she had you, only twenty-seven years of age. A maester doesn’t even touch his first pair of chains at that age”.

Her thoughts go directly to how this girl, Dove Targaryen, can only be here by the will of the Gods. A sour union with sixteen years of bad blood staining it. Adults well into their years living lives separate from each other. She thinks of Aemond and then of Jace and Luke. All of her cousins and their young parents.

They did not only get to grow up with their mothers but grow with their mothers. Even Sansa Stark got that privilege, if it could be called that. 

It always sets into the misfortune of the girl she is now. 

Yet, Rhea died whilst hawking and Daemon is still a skilled and active man well into his fifth decade. There is no matter of age or will. 

“Your father and her were never keen to each other, but his presence never brought such a volatile experience as it had after your birth” His tone is not accusatory in the slightest, but it runs that way in her ears, “I thought to blame him, for her aberrant behavior”.

He pauses, his eyes downcast as he looks for his next words. “Go on” She gently pushes, her hand moving towards her signet ring. 

He sighs defeat, “I am not trying to scare you my Lady, but there is something you must know that some mothers fall into a mental condition after the birth of their children. A depressive state. Some can have anxiety or delusions”.

He trails off, his dark eyes not looking at her once. “And my mother she had this” She asks rhetorically, encouraging him to go on.

The maester nods, “Yes, I believe so. She was always a strong-willed woman. Still was sometimes, after you. This condition hit her I fear… and hard”.

Sansa lets out a breath, she blinks to keep the tears at bay. ‘Is this what she caused by being here’? She shouldn’t have to ask what has been answered so clearly. 

“W…what were the symptoms she experienced of this condition?” She asks, in a quiet, watery voice.

Maester Alryk, adjusts his chains in a nervousness, “She exhibited deep melancholy, a restlessness that ate away at her peace”.

He makes a small chocking sound from the back of his throat. He clears it then scoffs. 

“Your father made it no better” He says with a heavy disgust, “He fed into the delusions…” He pauses, she can hear his breathing grow heavier, “her talk of enemies and the frozen dead—“

Her eyes snap up in focus. Her breath hitches before she interrupts, “Frozen dead”? The Maester sighs, then he shakes his head, “It’s nothing Princess… my Lady”. 

Yet, it is something. Daemon had also mentioned, the others. He had mentioned that he has seen something resembling them. Had he and Rhea come across such misfortune? 

“What did they say” She presses, giving her full attention to him?

The old man’s dark sunken eyes widen a bit. He’s taken aback by her want for this information. It’s a bit unusual for a highborn to ask for the documents of their birth. Yet, given the circumstances surrounding her birth, this should be expected. Shouldn’t it?

“I…i-it is not something a Lady of your stature or age should hear” He says, he straightens his back, standing at the height he once had been, “I will not breach conduct”.

Her eyes scan his person. He’s afraid. She can tell by his tight lip, sweaty brow and clenched knuckles. Of what? Cousin Gerald? Her father?

“Is it breaching conduct if you were to tell me of the circumstances of my birth and parents?” She asks, working her way to her answer.

He shakes his head, “This has nothing to do with either of those things. Your mother was… Gods forgive me, but your mother was sick and your father aided”.

Sansa sucks in a sharp breath. She fights off the urge to point out to the man that his ill speech of her father is also a breach in conduct. This conversation has nothing to offer her any insight. Just provided her with more questions.

Before she can press for more information, there is a knock at the door. “Yes” The Maester bids for entry. The door opens to reveal Ser Rhys Hunter.  

“The Prince Aemond Targaryen is here to bid for entry, My Lady” Her sworn shield tells her. 

She nods to the knight, then she turns to face Maester Alryk, giving him a pointed look. The warning of their conversation not being over in the slightest reads within it. 

She bids him entry into the castle. They meet in the hall, near the foyer. Aemond gives her a bow, a greeting of “My Lady” slips from his lips as he does. 

“We will like the room” She commands her guards, watching as they take her orders with ease.

“Your Highness” She greets, when they’re the only two remaining, “What brings you here”?

“I’ve heard of your father’s departure from the capital” He tells her, his eye scanning her face. She quirks in eyebrow to question, although she knows what he’s thinking.

“I wanted to check on you” He says, “Especially with your own hasty egress”. His words land every syllable of displeasure that he feels towards her leaving.

She nods, “As I had wrote you, I was always set to leave the capital for I have duties here. I was only there for my uncles name day ”.

“Yes I know” He says curtly.

Frankly, Aemond is hurt. By her words and actions. Yes, she has duties here in the Vale and knowing his betroth, she very well had not planned to over stay her visit. Yet, he can’t help the sting as she had unintentionally told him she had no thoughts of him.

It was Kermit Tully, she sat with at the tourney and feast. It was Kermit Tully that held her audience in courtship. If it weren’t for him, sweeping into the opportunity, it will be Kermit Tully here. He’s sure of it.

“And I know that with my mother taking the reins of our upcoming wedding, you feel no need to be there” He says, then he smiles softly, “And if you’re not there, why should I be”?

Dove’s face goes slack, as if she became a simpleton right here in this very moment. Then a look flashes in her eyes. It only lasts a second, but he recognizes it. It’s the same look that glosses her irises when she speaks of that Prince of Dragonflies. 

“S…stay…h…here? With me? Before the wedding” She stutters out, an adorable cherry flush blossoms her freckled cheeks, “What will your mother think? What will the realm think”?

Oh, my sweet Prince

“Pfft, piss on the realm” He curses, waving a hand, he walks over to her in three long strides, and takes her soft hands in his already callousing ones, “And as for my mother, she would just have to deal with it. Besides, what will they say about an already married couple living in the same castle with one another”?

Sansa shakes her head. She feels her as if her mind has spun faster than silk. As much as she likes to imagine it, and she feels as if it’s true. They are not already married. Could he share the same fantasy as her?

“We’re not married” She whispers in a fearful voice.

“We will be by the next dawn” He declares, “How will you like to have your spring wedding after all”?

She feels the tears spring in her eyes. “Really?” She questions. It seems so unorthodox because surely the family won’t accelerate the process of their nuptials. 

Yet, he cups her cheeks and nods before landing a gentle kiss upon her lips. When he pulls away, he stares into her eyes. They’re glistening with tears, and he may even dare think happiness. Happiness only he can bring her. He’s sure of it, and it washes away any jealousy or doubt he has ever felt.

“I have a plan” Aemond tells her and a mischievous smile paints his lips.

•XIX•

Sansa blinks, snapping herself out of her reverie of the past. The events that transpired earlier today are not to be dwelled upon no more.  She’s here in her home, in her mother’s room wearing the very same ivory dress Laena wore during a wedding festivity that her father slain her betroth. 

As for her actual wedding dress is neatly tucked away for Baela to wear for her upcoming wedding. 

Helaena enters back into the room gracefully walking towards her as if she’s dancing. The smile she’s been wearing since she arrived on Dreamfyre, has not left her yet. Sansa’s sure she doesn’t ever want it to leave her. 

“This dress was made for the warmth of Bravos” The older cousin comments, “I’m sure Baela has a throw over with pearls to match and keep you warm”.

The younger cousin smiles at her through the mirror. “No need, Princess. Blood of the dragon will keep me warm, fire and blood and all that” She quips.

Helaena furrows her eyebrows, “It’s a common misconception that because dragons harvest fire to breathe out that they aren’t cold-blooded. They’re still reptiles. That’s why the dragon pits are so hot and Dragonstone as well”.

Sansa already knows this because Helaena taught her. She is just playing into the sigil, like every other house does for them. 

“You shouldn’t model yourself after dragons” Her cousin continues, “You should embrace being a Dove”.

Sansa scoff, she’s heard the jokes all before. And after the discoveries of today, she really would not like to be called that name. But what choice does she have? Because in just a couple of hours, it will be officially eighteen years of being called by it. 

She sighs, resigning herself to the inevitability. A dove among dragons, she thought with a wry smile. 

Perhaps she has declared the conversation over. Though there is not much to add, Her cousin, Helaena opens the box that Sansa didn’t see her holding. 

The older cousin turns the box around revealing what is held inside. The mere sight of it, nearly causes her to collapse. It’s a necklace. A very familiar necklace.

One that she has shoved deep underneath her bed. Wrapped in the very dress she wore when she received it. 

Beautiful as ever it is. As its silver chain gleams with the moonlight. The dark sapphires glisten against the lighter ones. And the amber insect dull as the one who sports it.

“I— I don’t understand… Helaena where did you get this?” She stutters out, a bit dazed.

Her older cousin, sweet and simple as she can be, returns the expression. 

“Your jewelry box? The bronze one, with all the ‘Royce’ engravings” Her finger points to the direction of ‘Doves’ bedchamber.

Sansa wracks her mind trying to figure out if she had left this in her jewelry box. She had not. As she also knows that no maid or hand maiden has. 

She shakes her head, “Put it away, it won’t go with my dress”. A gentle but firm command. One that Helaena has no problem following as she shuts the box closed and sets it down on the chair she was using for items.  

“I think you should wear it, it’s stunning” The older cousin offers, “definitely a stand-out”. Helaena gives a small smile making her way back over, her hand reaching out to touch the signet ring hanging from the younger cousin’s neck.

“I don’t know any to tell you how to feel about your father” She continues, the smile faltering a bit, “As you know the relationship between me and my own is… distant… only a bit. He does love my babes, sometimes them and Rhaenyra is the only thing he can remember”.

Sansa looks down at the signet ring her cousin holds up to her eyes. This will be the first name day she will not be sharing with him. But that can only mean physically. If she wears this ring, the ring that was once his, one that he wore every day and everywhere, then he’ll be spending it with her.

This important day of her birth and her ascension into the womanhood. As she will be married by the end of the hour. 

She takes her cousins hand in her own gently moving it from the ring. “I think, I’ll wear it” She tells her, a smile coming on her lips, “It is perfect for this dress and this occasion”.

•XIX•

It’s cold, which is to be expected. The snow falls down around Aemond and the guests out in the prayer yard. The guest, are his two brothers the Princes Aegon and Daeron. His nephews Jacaerys and Lucerys. Most importantly his cousins Baela and Rhaena.

Very soon, they’ll all be siblings. The one-eyed Prince is not sure how he feels of this prospect. Yet, he can’t find it within himself to truly be perturbed. 

For he is to be marrying Dove. He doesn’t hide the smile on his face. Only reels it in a bit. The gate opens and out steps his older sister the Princess Helaena. She beckons for the older Strong boy to come near the gate. Parting with a kiss to the boy’s cheek, she takes her place standing by her husband.

Jacaerys reaches his hand forward then makes a pulling motion. And there he sees her. His beautiful bride to be. Her dual colored eyes, eyes that match his, land on his person immediately. She does not smile but her eyes do brighten.

She releases her hand from the bastards forearm and changes position by looping her arm with his. The two descend the pathway towards him. 

She must be eager because when they reach him, she releases herself from the bastards grasp. Dove’s attention, solely on him. 

“You’re beautiful” Aemond tells her, pulling a smile from her. The Prince Jacaerys bows and makes his way over to his original spot. Right there among the guest. 

They cannot be here for long. They all left the castle under the guise of racing their dragons. A child’s ploy if anything yet effective. Dragons make the speed horses and carriages wish they could. 

And they serve a protection men only dream of providing. 

He turns his body to stand side by side with Dove. His eye landing in the Weirwood. The Royce’s are of first men, and before the Andals came, and they converted they shared the faith of the old Gods. 

The Hightower's and his mother follow the Seven. Although, Dove claims to follow the old Gods, she has some ideologies that link back to the Seven. Aemond doesn’t know what he believes. 

He knows what his mother taught him. What the Septon and Maesters taught and preached. He’s participated in the practices. Yet, he still feels a bit like an outsider. 

“We pledge ourselves to each other” Dove says, her eyes fixated on the tree before them, “In front of the Gods, and the witnesses of this earth for the Realm”.

A bit straightforward then the customs of Old Valaryia and the Seven, themselves. 

“I would like to drag it out if you don’t mind” She says, turning her head to look at him, “We should kneel and pray”.

He turns to look at her one last time. It’s as if he’s starting to get the belief that once this is over, and she’s his wife that she’ll be someone new.

Marriage changes people, doesn’t it?

From what he’s heard. Even from what he’s witnessed. 

Will He and Dove morph into one another or become a shell of what the other once knew? 

His betroth kneels. Tiny flakes of snow rest on the bright silver artificial curls. Created a bit of a crown. 

He shudders, she’s more adapt to this weather than he is. Then all of them in this ‘room’. 

The pale tone of her skin and hair, paired with the ivory gown, she looks as if she’s one of those creatures from the folktales of the ice creatures. 

He leans down placing a kiss on top of her, icy head. Then takes his place next to her. 

Aemond can’t pull enough imagination to make out what she’s praying for. Is she praying over their union? Most likely. He can understand why she would want to. Yet, his own diminution in religion, captures the relatability he needs.

Sansa lifts her head, as she cannot continue with her prayers. She knows Aemond’s uncertainties when it comes to religion. He won’t admit, but she knows it has to do with his mother’s relationship with the Seven. 

He complied for the love and respect of her, but his heart was never truly in it. Not when he’s grown in the hostile environment of Kings landing.

She gently touches his arm. Gaining his attention. When their faces meet to fully look at each other, into each other, she is the first to speak the words.

“I, Lady Royce take you as my husband”.

“I, Prince Aemond Targaryen take you, Dove Targaryen as my wife”.

He stands up and gently takes off the snow colored maiden cloak. 

Before and flakes can reach the once covered back of the dress, he covers it with the cloak of his protection. 

The two of them did not get to settle in the ‘Lord’s’ chambers until deep at night. Early morning really. 

After the ceremony, they moved their party into Dove’s old room. They sat on the floor, on the nice rug, with the design of the Royce’s sigil. They dined on the leftovers from the miniature feast her cousin Gerold had held for the Lady of Runestones return.

Salted lamb with mint jelly and an olive spread, with a soft flatbread. Baela had taken each slice of the Almond cake from their siblings and themselves. She stacked the slices on top of each on a plate. Then she handed Aemond a knife.

The newlywed couple, held on to the knife and each other and sliced the cake into smaller pieces. After they cut the cake they both took a piece and wrapped each other’s arms around the other and fed each other their slice. Gaining praise from their siblings. 

Then the bride slid the plate in the middle of their little circle and watched as their guests take pieces of their own. 

Then they chatted among each other for the better half of an hour. They left the room, giving congratulations to the newlywed couple and wishing them well. Departing the castle at night.

Aemond closes the door to their new chambers, with his foot. His bride lets go of his hand a gasp leaves her lips, as her eyes land on the small dining table. More so her cake. She walks up to the table, a smile on her beautiful face.

“Happy Name day, my love” He wishes her, pulling the small jewelry box out of his pocket and holds it out.

Sansa turns to face her new husband. The lemon cake on the table is forgotten for the box in his hand. He opens it with one hand revealing a beautiful ring. 

Gold, white gold, a newer, highly sought after metal. The band is a bit thick, and plain aside from the two diamonds that set on each side of the big stone. The big stone is a light blue color and what she recognizes to be an aquamarine.

The birthstone of those born in March, the third moon. Her birthstone.

Staring at this beautiful ring makes her think of Ned Stark. It’s a funny little blurry memory. A rant of how birthstones are ridiculous. ‘Like people need another reason to be obsessed with their selves. They already have birthdays what else can you require’?

“Oh, Aemond” She blushes walking over to him, “It’s beautiful”.

She cups his face and kisses him softly. She pulls say with an even softer smile “I love it my Prince”.

“Lord Husband” He corrects, gently. 

She smiles a bit wider and nods, “My Lord Husband”.

He gently grabs her right hand and places the box on her palm then he grabs her left hand and takes the ring and slides it on what is deemed the ‘ring’ finger.

“My Lady love” He places a gentle kiss on her lips. 

When they part, she holds up her left hand examining the ring. 

“It is so gorgeous” She practically gushes.

“Not as breathtaking as you” He compliments, moving her hair off her shoulder. 

Sansa doesn’t feel scrutinized under his gaze. In fact, she almost feels alive. That’s a bit funny, as she is living for the second time. He takes her wrist in his hand setting down the box on the table and guiding her towards the bed.

She sits down on the edge of the bed with his guidance. A smile on her lips as she looks up at him. His hands rest on her shoulders. He gets down his knees his hands sliding down her body as he does. 

His hands settle on her knees, his eye darkening with each invisible drawing he makes on her cloth knee. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, his voice heavier than before. 

She nods almost immediately. If she’s being truthful she’s never been better. And when the next question comes, “Are you ready”? 

She nods, replying, “Of course”.

Why wouldn’t she?

> You know I’m not that girl, you know I’ll never be
Maybe just the way we’re different could set me free

Notes:

Almost There!!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Anon presents: Asoiaf Au’s