Chapter Text
112 AC
Vaera Velaryon walked arm in arm through the Red Keep with Alicent Hightower and Rhaenyra Targaryen. Vaera was a little older than her two companions, having just reached the age of six and ten whilst Alicent and Rhaenyra were each just shy of five and ten, though they had long been inseparable.
And they would never have it any other way.
Vaera had paid extra care to Alicent since her mother had been laid to rest at Oldtown a short few months before whilst Rhaenyra braced herself for her mother’s impending labour. Vaera knew the difficulties Queen Aemma had in her pregnancies, and so Vaera held herself back from the wistful optimism Alicent had when discussing the topic with Rhaenyra.
Alicent jested that Aemma would deliver a boy whilst Vaera knew the odds of Aemma birthing a living child that simply survived the cradle were slim. But Rhaenyra needed optimism, and so Vaera simply smiled at the prospect of a new sibling for Rhaenyra, and by extension, a new cousin for herself.
Vaera and Rhaenyra had been raised as such, and though their parents were only cousins themselves, Vaera often thought of Viserys and Aemma in the way one might think of an uncle and aunt. Aemma certainly treated her with that care, though Vaera wasn’t sure Rhaenys always gave that same care to Rhaenyra in return.
The situation before them and how it came about was not lost on Vaera, because she had been there to witness the Great Council herself. She had been five, just old enough to still recall it whilst Rhaenyra and Leanor had no memory of it, and she knew the precedent it set was no simple one.
Her own mother had been supplanted and overlooked in the act of succession in favour of a man, of Viserys, and they each saw history threatening to repeat with Rhaenyra and Daemon if Aemma could not deliver a son. Vaera often wondered if Rhaenys saw herself in Rhaenyra, but she knew she would never dare to ask the question.
Vaera enjoyed life at court, though she was still her father’s daughter and her curiosities stretched beyond the walls of the Red Keep. She spent her days on dragonback, more often than not with Rhaenyra, and her evenings were spent with her younger siblings, Leanor and Laena who were just shy of fourteen and twelve.
She was close with her younger siblings, though she felt the difference in age more day by day. Vaera was visibly a woman and she had felt the difference in expectation in a way her younger siblings had not yet encountered. She knew Alicent had begun to feel those pressures also, and the two had silently bonded over their quiet dread, whilst Rhaenyra still lived with a sense of blissful freedom.
Vaera was aware that herself and Rhaenyra were the most eligible women in the realm, though Rhaenyra still had a year or two more before she would truly feel that pressure. Rhaenyra was the crown princess, but Vaera was the eldest daughter of Corlys Velaryon, perhaps the most powerful man in the realm next to the king himself and certainly the richest. Which is why Vaera struggled when imagining what potential match her father could arrange.
After all, what did the lesser houses of Westeros have to offer a Velaryon?
And so she’d lay her head in Alicent’s lap, laughing with Rhaenyra as Alicent read aloud tales of knights and chivalry, though Vaera mocked such fancies less and less. Vaera knew powerful men abut found herself unmoved by their feats when she had been born of a legend. The older she grew and the more aware she became of the nature of men, she realised that truly honourable men were of far greater rarity than powerful men.
And one of those powerful and dishonourable men had recently returned to the city.
Vaera would often look at Rhaenyra’s fanciful fixation with Prince Daemon with both caution and bewilderment, because Vaera had always seen something unnerving behind his eyes that only seemed to excite Rhaenyra. She did not think it coincidence that Aemma had so quickly arranged Daemon’s marriage to Rhea Royce when Rhaenyra was close to flowering. It was a peculiar match for a prince that most saw as an attempt to tame him, but Vaera wondered if Aemma held deeper fears that Viserys was blind to.
Regardless, Vaera found Daemon’s marriage to be a great relief for she knew that a Targaryen would be a prospect her father wouldn’t have been able to refuse. It had delayed conversations of marriages and matches for some time, but Vaera knew that time was up.
And so when she walked the Red Keep at sundown and overheard her parents’ voices from a nearby balcony, she hid and listened.
“There will not be a tournament like this again for some time,” Rhaenys said. “I do not expect her to marry anytime soon, but this seems to be the right time to think of betrothals.”
The prospect did not seem to give her any delight, and it delighted her father even less.
“But to who, Rhaenys?” Corlys stressed. “When she was born we had hoped that we could marry her to Viserys and Aemma’s eldest son when he was delivered, but that ship has long sailed.”
“Apparently not according to this tournament,” Rhaenys remarked. “And even if Viserys does get his heir, none of us seek to betroth Vaera to a newborn.”
“There was Daemon-”
“But that ship too has sailed,” Rhaenys said with some relief.
“Which means that she is left with no choice but to marry below her station,” Corlys said. “She should have been born a princess, and you know in my eyes she is one, and she deserves nothing but the best.”
Rhaenys chuckled lightly and with a dry and bitter humour remarked, “She may be your jewel, but she is still a woman and she knows what is expected of her.”
“Yes, but if she cannot wed a Targaryen then I want her to at least have some choice in it,” Corlys said, and Vaera exhaled in quiet relief from where she hid. “If she must marry some lord’s son then let her choose who. Let her choose if she wishes to reside in the Reach or the Westerlands or the Stormlands. Let her choose which great seat she shall rule from-”
“I think she will see marriage less as choosing which castle she wishes to run and more so what man she will be bedding,” Rhaenys said rather bluntly and Corlys choked at her words. “We both wish for her to be happy, and she has only ever sought that for herself as well, which is why she will judge her suitors by their character rather than by their wealth or their castle which will no doubt be inherited rather than built by the strength of their own back as ours was considering what her generation of men are like.”
“Well, she will be marrying a man set to inherit something,” Corlys said, and Vaera’s jaw clenched. “And regardless, the right man will prove his character by making himself worthy of her.”
“It would be easier to steer her in the right direction if we had options to put before her,” Rhaenys said, but Corlys suddenly found himself lost for words. “But you cannot think of any, can you?”
“I trust her to survey her options and make a wise choice,” Corlys said, placing it in Vaera’s hands since he himself could not find any match he truly liked for her. “Just as you did.”
“Did I now?” Rhaenys teased and he grinned, bringing his wife in close.
“Well I certainly did.”
Vaera silently excused herself as she contemplated the decision before her, taking the opportunity to find her way to her one true sanctuary within King’s Landing.
~
Within the walls of the dragon pit, Corlys Velaryon found his eldest daughter.
“Ah, there you are,” he said despite knowing exactly where she would be.
“You should know better than to sound surprised,” she remarked without tearing her attention away from her dragon who she tenderly played with.
“Well, this is the first place I looked but I thought I’d at least sound as if I’d given you the benefit of the doubt.”
She made a sound of acknowledgement but she still did not look back at him, and he struggled with the topic at hand. “The princess and Lady Alicent are greeting guests ahead of the celebrations to come. Is there a reason you are not with them?”
“I wanted to be with Seafyre,” she answered, and Corlys nodded.
“You should not make a habit of travelling here alone, it is not safe-”
“I either travel with Rhaenyra and her kingsguard, or with Leanor, and if they are both occupied then I travel in broad daylight on horseback or have a household guard escort me,” she stated. “You should not fear for my safety.”
‘This is King’s Landing, of course I fear for your safety,” he said, but seeing that she did not heed him he stepped forward to emphasise the issue before Seafyre abruptly moved, as if yawning, and despite no threat being posed Corlys’s heart still jumped.
Finally Vaera looked back at him if only to laugh.
“You married a Targaryen and yet you are still skittish around dragons?”
“I have not survived this long by being a careless man,” he said. “Dragons are remarkable beasts, but they are still unpredictable.”
“So are horses if they are not trained,” she dismissed and Corlys sighed.
“Dragons are not horses.”
“You’re right, they’re far more playful,” she said, smiling as Seafyre nuzzled into her. “Isn’t that right?”
Seafyre made a happy sound in response, and Corlys’s resolve softened as Vaera kissed her dragon’s face.
“Viserys and I often wonder who spoils their dragon more, you or Rhaenyra,” Corlys remarked considering both the girls had requested custom armour for their dragons for their last namedays, though their designs more closely resembled necklaces.
And indeed they both got just that.
Though Corlys prided himself on the fact that what Seafyre received was far more ornate than what Syrax had. He had always quietly ensured that Vaera was decorated as a princess should be, for she should have been one, and that she always outshone Viserys’s daughter. Corlys understood the art of wealth and how it was displayed, and he made sure Vaera was the very image of Velaryon wealth and the power they wielded.
Of the status they held even after the Great Council denied Rhaenys.
From her dresses and her jewels to her riding clothes and her dragon, there were none, not even Rhaenyra, who could hold a candle to her. Even Seafyre shone brilliantly with turquoise scales that put any dragon under Targaryen control to shame.
Vaera’s hand ran over the large turquoise stone that adorned her dragon’s collar, a stone Corlys himself had acquired from across the narrow sea more than a decade before. She had wanted gold for Seafyre’s collar to match the jewellery she favoured but Corlys negotiated her down to brass since it was more durable.
He then had to have the matching necklace of brass and turquoise made for Vaera, though he did not mind. Rhaenys thought him a fool for spoiling them both as he did, but he said there was no price he could put on Vaera’s happiness.
Or on their image.
“She has grown into her collar well,” Corlys remarked to soften Vaera’s own resolve.
“She has. We may need to have another made in the next few years if she keeps growing at this rate,” she said and Corlys opened his mouth but quickly shut it again, knowing he could hardly refuse her.
“Of course,” he said, and then he added, “Though perhaps your future husband may be the one to take on that responsibility if you are wed by then.”
Vaera pursed her mouth, and Corlys treaded carefully considering the way in which Seafyre looked at Corlys upon sensing Vaera’s own discontent.
Corlys suddenly wondered if choosing to have this conversation in front of her dragon was a mistake on his part.
“You should be with Alicent and Rhaeyra greeting the guests, perhaps you may meet someone you take a liking to,” Corlys said. “Your mother is even making small talk with these newcomers whilst you hide away in here.”
“Making small talk or trying to find me a suitor?” Vaera asked and only then did she look back at her father, wearing that same discerning look he so often saw in Rhaenys’s eyes.
“You overheard your mother and I speaking then?”
“What do you think?”
She ran a hand along Seafyre’s snout one last time before instructing the dragon keepers in Valyrian to see her fed, and she walked past her father as she made a beeline for the stairs.
“You are a young woman from a noble family who has no shortage of suitors, which you are no doubt aware of considering you’ve gone into hiding, but you cannot be angry at us for entertaining them on your behalf,” Corlys lectured as he followed her out of the dragon pit. “I understand that you may be shy-”
“I am not shy, I simply do not wish to marry,” she stated without explanation or apology.
“Many men and women say the same before they are properly courted,” Corlys said, having been prepared for her opposition. “I do not intend to force you into a marriage you do not want, but I do want you to find a worthy man.”
“I looked and there are none.”
“Looked?” Corlys scoffed, knowing damn well she had not. “Half the men who have travelled for the tournament are still arriving so you best look again.”
“I have looked, and I have seen enough,” she stated. “There are only so many men of noble birth who I see at almost every tourney and they are all the same. They are either old or craven or cruel or simply pompous and I have no intention of marrying any of those things.”
Her reasoning gave Corlys a place to approach her concerns from, because he too held those same concerns. That there simply was not a man who was truly fit for his daughter.
“These men… they are the knights of summer so I can understand your reservations,” he conceded, and he grasped at some who may be half suitable. “But there are several lords or their eldest sons who have arrived. What of Jason Lannister?”
“Pompous.”
He could not argue with that.
“What of one of the Strongs?” Corlys said, running through the heirs of those who sat on the council. He immediately discounted any associated with Otto or the Hightowers, and he supposed Lord Beesbury had grandsons but he did not know of their ages. He found the Strongs favourable enough, though he struggled to remember the names of Lyonel’s sons. “The one who isn’t crippled. He’d no doubt be heir.”
“I do not know him.”
“Then you should meet him, I will organise an introduction,” Corlys said, though Vaera did not hold any excitement at the thought. “I ask you only to meet him.”
“I’d rather not live out my days at Harrenhal,” she said and Corlys sighed in frustration. “Such a dreary place, and so far from the sea.”
“Very well, then how about we find a map and run through the heirs to each holdfast that runs along the sea?” Corlys said and he meant to sound pragmatic rather than sarcastic, but she only ignored him as she walked to her horse. “It is not the worst of strategies.”
“Marriage is more than simply picking a castle,” she argued.
“Your mother said the same, and yet here you are discounting a match because you do not like his castle.”
“Yes, because it’s Harrenhal,” she said in disgust and Corlys only scoffed.
“Which is one of the largest and most strategic locations in the Seven Kingdoms.”
“It lies in ruin and it is only strategic in war,” she dismissed. “And I doubt Viserys plans to go marching off to war anytime soon.”
“No, but one of his heirs may,” Corlys said and she gave him a knowing look.
“You mean the prince?”
“Yes, and he himself could have made a fine match, but-” She openly gawked in her father’s face and he cut himself short. “Now, I know Daemon is Daemon, but that reaction is excessive.”
“Gods,” she scoffed as she went to mount her horse but Corlys stopped her.
“I understand that you have the highest of standards, and so do I, which is why I am giving you a choice in this,” Corlys stressed. “Because you have your mother’s discernment and I trust your judgement to be sound when you are not being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn.”
“Then why do you not trust me when I say that I do not wish to entertain the ambitions of some power-grasping lordling who seeks our family’s wealth, nor that of these so-called knights who are either brutish or spineless,” she spat with the same ferocity as her dragon. “I have yet to find any man, lord, or knight who is truly honourable, and I will not marry until I do so.”
Despite his frustrations, Corlys could only be proud of his daughter’s difficulty because her reasonings were nothing but sound.
“Everything you have said is fair,” he acknowledged. “There are certainly those who would wed you solely for access to our house’s funds and fleet, but I would be alarmed if they did not admit that would be an advantage of marrying you.”
Vaera’s brows furrowed and Corlys lowered his voice.
“I understand that you would wish to marry a man who marries you rather than our house, but you must understand that the majority of marriages, if not all, are driven at least on some level by both ambition and advantage and you must be pragmatic in understanding this.”
“And what of love?” she asked. “Did you not marry my mother for love?”
“I did,” he said, and a smile rested on his lips. “I admired her and she admired me, though she also saw the advantage in such a match. She was a claimant to the throne and I had built a fleet that could not be challenged by any within the Seven Kingdoms. She trusted me to defend her, to uphold her claim if it came to war, but-”
“But in the end it did not, and the men of the realm chose Viserys,” Vaera finished, and the smile disappeared from Corlys’s face. “But I am no claimant and I have no need for fleets or gold. I am both Velaryon and Targaryen, a dragon rider, so what advantage can the men of the realm offer me?”
Corlys opened his mouth, but he was unable to counter her argument, and so instead he said, “I do not expect you to enter into this decision lightly, but it is a decision that must at some point be made.”
“But why? You have Leanor as your heir-”
“Yes, but as my daughter you still have a responsibility,” Corlys stressed, but she cut his lecture short.
“As you have made clear, a daughter’s responsibility is to bring political or financial advantage to one’s house through marriage, but there is nothing those houses can offer us,” she said, and despite his exasperation he had to hide a smile. “You may say that my mother married you for ships and gold, but it is clear to me that she married you for love also so would you truly deny me the chance to have that as well?”
“I- I do not wish to deny you that,” Corlys assured her, almost shakily considering the indiscretions he believed Rhaenys to be blind to. “But-”
“I have all that I could ever ask for, so the only advantage marriage could offer me is love,” she stated and Corlys fell quiet. “And until a man can give me that, then what is the point of it?”
Corlys had spent decades consolidating his power, his seat, and it never occurred to him that a day would come when no greater wealth could truly be acquired. The only treasure left to claim was the Iron Throne, but there was no clear path left towards that with Viserys and Daemon both wed, and so for the meantime he let that issue rest.
Still, to hear his eldest daughter say that no man could give her anything that Corlys had not already given her… he grew emotional with pride and he decided that he could never achieve any greater feat than to have a daughter who had no need for a political marriage.
If Viserys had a son, or a brother closer in age to Vaera, then things would be different, but that ship had sailed. Though Rhaenyra would someday be wed, and Daemon could yet have a legitimate child. If his wife and daughter could not sit the throne… then perhaps his grandchild could.
Between his three children, surely it could be managed.
“That may be true, but I would like grandchildren some day,” Corlys said. “And I would like for you to be happy.”
“Yes, though for the moment I am quite happy with my dragon.”
“You are your mother’s daughter,” he laughed. “She did not enter into marriage easily either. I had to impress her. I had to earn her love and so I went and made something of myself, and you deserve no less.”
She wore a small smile and he placed a hand upon her shoulder.
“You may stay with your dragon today, but when the formal events begin with the welcome feast you will be expected to attend.”
“Thank you, Father,” she said, and he squeezed her shoulder before he left her to return to the Keep, to Rhaenys, and when he entered their chambers she was waiting for him.
“Well,” Rhaenys said. “How did it go?”
“Better than expected,” Corlys said, and Rhaenys’s brows rose in surprise. “She is a wonder, our daughter. She made me realise something.”
“Did she now?”
“What could the lords of the realm offer our daughters that has not already been given to them?” Corlys said. “We have the realm’s largest fleet, gold, dragons… well, Laena does not have one, but that is redundant-”
“Corlys…”
“You should have new dresses made for her and Laena, and I will send for Vaemond to bring jewels from Driftmark to be fashioned into jewellery for them.”
Rhaenys just chuckled, though she herself could not help but be proud. “Oh she has you wrapped around her finger.”
“Like her mother.”
Rhaenys hummed in agreement.
~
Much like her mother, Vaera observed the more intricate workings of the Red Keep with a scrutiny that went hand in hand with her father’s curiosity for the unknown world. And so she looked out towards the city and beyond from the window of Rhaenyra’s chambers whilst Alicent and Rhaenyra spoke of the upcoming celebrations.
“Gwayne will be coming for the tourney,” Alicent said and Vaera noted the relief she spoke with. “I have not seen him since I was last at Oldtown.”
Alicent did not need to say that the last time she and her brother saw one another was at their mother’s funeral, and Vaera quietly squeezed her hand.
Vaera did not know Gwayne well, she’d met him only in passing when he made his rare visits to court, but she knew Alicent was fond of him and that having him here would bring her the comfort she had been missing since her mother’s passing.
“Daemon should be competing,” Rhaenyra said. “No doubt he’ll win it.”
“I don’t suppose his lady wife will be travelling from the Vale to join him?” Vaera remarked and Rhaenyra pursed her lips.
“Considering how cold she seemed at their wedding, I doubt it,” she replied. “After all, it was a marriage neither of them wanted and one that was far beneath him.”
Considering Rhaenyra’s defensiveness over Daemon, Vaera spoke of him no more and instead said, “My father approached me today and asked me to start considering suitors.”
The girls both sat upright considering neither of them had yet been formally asked to do so, but they knew it was on the horizon.
“Does he have any in mind?” Alicent asked and Vaera shook her head.
“None I liked, though considering he did not seem fussed on anyone in particular he’s allowing me to find suitors I find acceptable.”
“So your father’s letting you choose who you marry?” Alicent said, almost warily, and even Rhaenyra was surprised.
“Truly?”
“I suppose so, and yet it feels rigged,” Vaera confided. “I’m a Velaryon, the daughter of a princess, and thus any match I could possibly make would be beneath me. I have been given a choice with no options.”
“Then he will simply have to accept whomever you find suitable,” Rhaenyra said, and she teased, “If no lords take your fancy, then perhaps you’ll find yourself a knight.”
Vaera laughed. “And as I told him, I am quite content with my dragon.”
“You cannot marry a dragon,” Alicent reminded her and Vaera rolled her eyes.
“Then perhaps I will become a septa,” she jested. “Perhaps we three can all become septas so we never have to wed.”
“I’ve heard worse ideas,” Rhaenyra said and Alicent was especially partial.
“Far worse,” Alicent agreed, and she truly contemplated the possibility. “I think I would rather enjoy life as a septa. I could even return to Oldtown.”
“Or we could all fly across the narrow sea,” Rhaenyra suggested. “Surely we have enough jewels and gold between us that we could live a comfortable life.”
“Or at least Vaera would,” Alicent remarked considering the Targaryens were only surpassed in their wealth by the Velaryons.
“Don’t doubt me so soon,” Rhaenyra replied, and only then did Vaera take note of the new necklace she wore. “My inheritance may be Valyrian steel, but that is just as valuable as all the jewels from across the Narrow Sea.”
Vaera almost asked where she’d acquired the necklace, but she didn’t have to. Only Daemon would gift a lady Valyrian steel in place of gold or silver.
After all, Vaera would know.
~
Later Vaera sat in her chambers, sorting through her own collection of gold and jewels until she came across a circlet of Valyrian steel.
She had been four and ten when Daemon was wed to Rhea Royce and had subsequently fled, and when he returned to the capital a short few months later he brought Vaera the circlet whilst remarking that his marriage could yet be annulled.
His attention did not bring Vaera the same satisfaction it brought Rhaenyra, but rather an almost paralytic fear. She knew well what type of man Daemon was, her mother did not censor that as Rhaenyra’s parents may have with her, and she knew that Daemon would either ruin her or make her his wife.
And she would have bet every jewel she had on the former.
As such, she rejected his advances as tactfully as she could by remarking she only wore gold, not steel, and Daemon seemed to take this as a challenge. Though thankfully he had yet again fled before she could learn what lengths he would go to in the name of conquest.
But Daemon had returned and it was now Rhaenyra who was four and ten, and it seemed Daemon’s attention was with her. Except Rhaenyra had no intention of rejecting it, and Vaera knew Rhaenyra would heed no warnings.
The situation before them was clear. Daemon was Viserys’s heir until Viserys bore a son. It was a fact many despised due to Daemon’s nature, but it was the precedent set by the Great Council. By law Rhaenyra would be overlooked in favour of him, but he was still Daemon and his claim was not unassailable. Though if he had a wife of Targaryen blood by his side and a son by her then that would change.
Rhaenyra was the princess, Viserys’s daughter and Daemon’s niece, but Vaera had the might of House Velaryon at her back and Daemon knew it. Rhaenyra could give Daemon a legitimacy that could not be rivalled as long as Viserys remained without a son, but Vaera would give him the might and the gold he would need to press his claim if that were to change or if Rhaenyra were to wed another.
She had heard conflicting reports on the nature of Daemon’s marriage, if it was indeed consummated or not. Daemon had reportedly rejected that suggestion with disgust and claimed he never so much as touched her, whilst the Vale rallied behind his wife in stating that he did lay with her before becoming scorned.
Vaera believed the latter.
She shut the circlet away where she would not have to look upon it as she grappled with the choice she had been given and her father’s words about Daemon being a fine match. She knew that she had her father wrapped around her finger, but that affection could only give her so much control over her situation.
Especially when Daemon was involved.
But, if Daemon’s marriage could have been dissolved then it would have been done by now, and Vaera tried to comfort herself with that fact as she truly began to comprehend the greater consequences of marriage.
She would have to leave her home and her family. It was not the Red Keep she mourned leaving, she could content herself with that, but rather the thought of Driftmark no longer being her home, nor a short flight away. She would have to leave Leanor and Laena. She would have to leave Alicent and Rhaenyra. She would have to leave all she knew.
Seafyre would come with her, that would be non-negotiable, but to where?
She struggled to imagine herself living in any place but Driftmark, let alone with a man she did not know. Nor could she imagine a man she could stomach the thought of marrying.
Then there was the matter of the bedding… that caused a lump to form in Vaera’s throat. Unlike many ladies, she had been told by her mother not so long ago what to expect and why such acts were required, though considering she lived in Kings Landing there was little Rhaenys told her she did not already know.
She could not deny that she was curious, and yet whenever she shut her eyes at night and tried to imagine a lover he was faceless.
At times she would imagine someone clasping her hand in the way Alicent and Rhaenyra often did, of that stranger taking her body in their arms and holding her with that same gentle and tender warmth she found with her closest companions. She imagined what a kiss would feel like. She knew what it felt like to be held, but to be kissed was another thing entirely.
She craved it.
She wanted to be kissed and held by someone who sought to know her rather than use her.
Perhaps she was even selfish enough to want to be loved, but she knew she would not find that with any lord or heir that has come for this tournament.
Vaera grew increasingly restless, pacing into the night until she looked across the city to the dragon pit. It would be far from the first time she had snuck out in the night to hide within its walls, sleeping on Seafyre’s wing only to return in the morning and claim she’d ventured down at dawn rather than in the dead of night.
And so she did as she often did, she wore her plainest cloak over her riding clothes and cracked open the unseen door in the corner of her room. The passageway was filled with spiderwebs and the odd rat, so she did not favour it, but she knew it was the safest bet to escape past her father’s guards unseen. It did not take her far, only to a scarcely used drawing room in the next wing over, but it was enough for her to then make her way through the keep with her hair concealed by her hood.
With the upcoming heir’s tournament people increasingly came and went from the keep at all hours as the servants made their preparations, leaving often locked doors and passages open, and she did not let such opportunities go to waste. With the events being held through the city for the celebration she elected to walk rather than ride, to see King’s Landing in the evening. She knew Rhaenyra would volunteer to accompany her but she also knew better than to extend the invitation. Rhaenyra was the crown princess and such a disappearance would cause great distress to Queen Aemma if they were caught, and Alicent was Alicent, so Vaera walked the streets alone.
She did not pay too much mind to the gold cloaks that walked the streets with purpose, after all extra security was to be expected with all the visitors that would be arriving in the next day or so, but then she heard screams.
Without hesitation, she turned to run back towards the keep before she could be caught in any sort of trouble, but just as she reached the nearest set of stairs she was met by a hoard of the common folk running down its steps from the city watch. She narrowly escaped being hit by a man who was flung from the top of its steps as she pressed herself against the wall, hoping to go unnoticed as they passed by, but she herself was pushed along by the gold cloaks with the rest of the crowd.
She stumbled down onto the street below and scrambled into the nearby square, moving behind a vacated market stall as a man was thrown onto the ground and brutally beaten by a pair of gold cloaks before her eyes while a woman, likely his wife, screamed and was tossed aside. A gasp was torn from Vaera’s lungs as the larger of the two men brought his boot down upon the man’s head, again, and again, and again, and she hid beneath the stall as more gold cloaks descended into the square.
She watched through the cracks in the wood as a man was seized and his trousers were pulled down, she heard the cries of raper but no trial was given before his member was cut clean off and thrown onto the street. He screamed and wailed until he was knocked unconscious, or dead – Vaera could not tell – and she could only watch in horror as more limbs were taken from more of the common folk.
She found herself saying a prayer beneath her lips as she remained hidden, waiting until the screams had subsided and the gold cloaks dispersed into the next street over, before moving from her hiding spot.
Her hood fell back as she made a dash to the nearest ally she knew led to the Red Keep, only to gasp out as a hand closed around the back of her neck and her body froze. Her mouth opened to scream out as her head was yanked back, but the scream remained caught in her throat as she came eye to eye with Daemon Targaryen.
“Well, well, look who we have here,” he remarked with an entertained smirk as he pulled her hood back fully and raised a clump of her messed silver curls. “I thought I recognised the hair.”
He released her and she quickly composed herself as she turned to face him properly, roughly clearing her throat as she set a hand over her pounding chest. “Prince Daemon.”
“I assume your parents don’t know you’re here,” he said and her silence was answer enough. “What madness has possessed you to find yourself on these streets?”
“They’re usually safe when your gold cloaks aren’t brutalising them,” she spat, taking in the armour he wore and recognising she should be more careful with her words considering the violence she had seen tonight, but that was precisely the reason she could not censor them.
“Really?”
“Was it not your hand around my neck just now?” she retorted, but he took her jabs in stride.
“I am only protecting a fellow member of my house,” he stated. “Are you not the daughter of a Targaryen princess?”
“I am.”
“Then we are kin,” he said, and those words with the way he looked upon her sent a shiver down her spine. “Come, it is not safe on these streets.”
She did not protest or shake him off when he set a hand on her back to guide her away from the violence, and he made it two streets over before she realised they were not headed towards the Red Keep.
“My prince, this is not the way-”
“No, because my gold cloaks are ensuring the streets closest to the keep are orderly before this tournament is underway,” he said and she grimaced at the sound of screams from that direction. “We’re gelding the rapers and removing the hands of thieves, it is nothing you should concern yourself with.”
Vaera knew it was not simply that, but she kept her mouth shut as he guided her into a nearby ally and towards an unfamiliar building.
“You’re trembling,” he noted. “You should have something to drink.”
She nodded, believing he was bringing her into a tavern, but then she entered through a back door to the sound of moans. She stopped in her tracks but Daemon merely raised her hood before pushing her inside, and she caught glimpse of naked women before he manoeuvred her into a side room.
Before she could think to protest, to fight, he directed her towards a clothed woman and said, “Mysaria, fetch my lady here a drink.”
The woman, the whore, looked upon her in mild shock before doing as she was bid and Daemon shut the door behind her.
“Do not fear, they do not know who you are,” he said, but that was the least of her concerns as he sat on the stained bed in the centre of the room and she saw the blood staining his armour. “You are more anonymous here than in a tavern.”
The whore re-entered and placed a chalice in Vaera’s hands, and shakily she raised it to her lips as the woman began to clean the blood from Daemon’s armour with a rag.
“You gave her the good wine, yes?” Daemon asked and she nodded.
“Yes, my prince.”
“Very good,” he said as she placed a chalice in his own hand and he raised it towards Vaera. “Now drink. It will ease your nerves.”
And she did just that, sculling the cup without break until it was empty and she did not protest when the whore moved to refill it.
“You may leave us now, Mysaria,” Daemon said, and in truth Vaera was surprised he knew the whore’s name as she gave an obedient nod and left the room, leaving Vaera and Daemon alone. “You know what this place is?”
“It is not hard to gather.”
“We will not stay here long, just until the streets are clear and then I will escort you back to the keep,” Daemon said. “Unless you wish to stay.”
“Certainly not.”
“Fair enough, though there is something for everyone in these places,” he said to her. “Even noble ladies.”
“I am not a man, I did not come into the city to visit brothels,” she stated and Daemon tilted his head in interest.
“Then what did you come into the city for?” he asked and her answer was honest enough.
“I wanted to be with my dragon.”
“And you could not wait ’til morning?”
“I… no, I could not,” she said, not knowing how she was going to explain this to her father when she could not even explain it to someone like Daemon, but he seemed to understand.
“You had the urge to flee I take it,” he said, and her guilty silence answered him. “You are not alone in that urge, I am often taken by it myself.”
She hummed, being aware of his frequent disappearances, but he only grew more curious.
“But what could a noble lady such as yourself have cause to flee?”
She huffed, but he waited for her answer until she finally said, “Expectation.”
He nodded, and she saw the curiosity in his eyes but he did not ask any more questions. “Very well, to the dragon pit then.”
Her mouth opened and she began to stammer. “It’s fine, I can return to the keep-”
“Don’t be silly, you wanted to go to the dragon pit so we shall go,” he said and he lifted the drink she held up to her lips. “Drink up.”
~
There was a stumble in Vaera’s step as Daemon guided her through the city to the dragon pit. She found herself holding onto his arm for stability as he half-dragged her along the uneven cobblestone until finally they came to the town square below the pit.
Daemon saw the sudden light in her eyes as she let go of him to make her way up the steps, as if all could be remedied if she simply reached her dragon. Again she threatened to fall after the wine she had been given, so Daemon caught her waist and she did not shy away from him as he helped her reach the pit.
The dragon keepers exchanged mortified glances at the sight of Daemon with Vaera, but they did not intervene. They could not.
“Seafyre,” she called, releasing Daemon now to stagger into the darkness and sure enough a dragon of brilliant blue moved forward to meet her. “My girl.”
The dragon nuzzled into her with what Daemon noted to be a particularly strong affection, and a genuine smile rested on his lips as Vaera returned it. She possessed a childlike wonder that warmed Daemon, but he had also seen the temper she possessed and it was a combination that enthralled him.
He often lamented the fact she was so young when Viserys sought to marry him off, for he had known since she was a child that she could become his wife. A girl of Targaryen and Valyrian blood with a claim to not just Driftmark, but the throne itself. For a moment it even appeared that she would be its heir when it seemed possible for Rhaenys to be named Queen, and then that all slipped away, leaving behind a girl with Valyrian blood and a dragon who did not carry the name Targaryen.
Though their children would.
When he saw her by Rhaenyra’s side his mind would wander, it would see a future that Viserys would never stomach, though Corlys… he was not entirely sure Corlys would reject it. Not when it would see his daughter a queen.
In Daemon’s dreams he saw himself on the Iron Throne with a wife on either side of him and their dragons overhead. The very image of the conquerors.
He had Rhaenyra in his grasp, he knew this, but Vaera Velaryon was not so easily tamed. She was cautious, and she was Rhaenys’s daughter. She would take work.
Still, the blood of Old Valyria ran in their veins and he was determined to discover just how strongly that Targaryen blood flowed.
“Have you ever seen Dragonstone?”
“It is not far from Driftmark so I have seen it, yes,” she answered, though she was too captivated by her dragon to take her eyes away from it.
“Have you stepped foot there?”
She thought for a moment before answering, “No, I have not.”
“It is only a short flight from here,” Daemon said. “You would be back before dawn.”
She paused then and finally looked back at him, and he saw the same thing that burned within him behind her dark eyes. The need to escape.
To fly.
And she was just drunk enough to consider it.
“How long is the flight?”
“Depends on how fast your dragon can fly,” Daemon said and a drunken smile appeared across her face.
~
By the time Vaera had begun to come back to her senses, she’d landed at Dragonstone. Seafyre settled steadily on the bridge that led to the castle, though Vaera was far from steady as she slid down onto the stone below.
Daemon had landed ahead and sent Caraxys to fly overhead, but Vaera quietly ordered Seafyre to stay close before she went to meet Daemon.
Her long curls blew in the wind as she closed the distance and he showcased the castle to her that she’d often seen from a distance whilst flying or sailing.
“Behold, the ancestral seat of our house.”
“I fear my own is south of here,” she said, able to turn her head to see Driftmark in the distance, but Daemon merely waved his hand in dismissal.
“And yet you flew here on dragon back, now come!”
With little choice she followed him to the castle gates, and she remained cautious as he took her through the wondrous halls she’d so often heard of, and yet the castle itself was deserted. Lifeless.
Haunted even.
Her head spun as the drink slowly wore off, but she was wise enough to nod in interest and react appropriately to Daemon’s tour, though she took little of it.
Hidden indoors from the sky above, she had lost track of how long remained until dawn and grew increasingly anxious, and then Daemon began to speak of Aegon and his wives to her, and there was an edge to his voice that caused the hairs on her arms to raise.
“It is remarkable what he achieved with three dragons united in a common cause, and yet our forebears have shied away from using that strength to extend our reach into Dorne, across the Narrow Sea…”
“Well, Dorne was not for a lack of trying,” she remarked, knowing the histories well. “But is peace not more prosperous than war for the sake of war?”
Daemon again waved her off and she rolled her eyes since she walked behind him.
“My brother and his council lack for ambition,” he said. “They prefer stability at the expense of the decline of our house when we should be aiming to restore the glory we once knew in Old Valyria. An empire everlasting.”
“Is there an empire in history that has been everlasting?” she questioned and Daemon paused. “Or is it their very design to destroy themselves from within? To tear itself apart in the name of greater ambitions.“
Daemon’s mood began to shift, and he remarked, “That is not the spirit I would expect from the daughter of Corlys Velaryon. I do not know a man with greater ambitions than he.”
“I am not my father,” she simply shrugged, and she did not allow him to see her flinch when he stepped forward and placed a knuckle beneath her chin.
“No, you’re far prettier.”
She met his eye but the only thing that stirred within her was a deep repulsion at the predatory glint she saw. Yet her body betrayed her in shuddering when that knuckle trailed down along her neck before finally dropping away.
“I want to look out at Driftmark,” she said, to get back to her dragon.
“Very well then,” Daemon permitted, and so he led her back out onto the bridge where Seafyre waiting for her.
Her scales glistened beneath the moonlight and she did indeed look out at Driftmark, though she soon grew ill at the possibility that someone, perhaps even her uncle Vaemond, saw her flying alongside Caraxes.
Just as she grappled with the consequences that may await her in King’s Landing, she felt Daemon’s hand on his waist and his body behind hers. His touch was not harsh, and yet it was far from gentle as he loomed over her in the darkness.
“You’re a maiden, yes?” he suddenly asked and she exhaled at his shamelessness as he left no room to misinterpret his wants.
“I am unwed, so yes,” she said and his laugh was low in her ear.
“One does not make the other true.”
Daemon’s hand trailed upwards over her riding leathers, but just as his hand brushed the edge of her breast with no sign of stopping she grabbed his hand in warning.
“Daemon…”
“Forgotten titles already, have we?”
“Are we not kin?” she replied and he was impressed.
“We’re Targaryen’s... dragon riders.” He looked towards the castle as his thumb ran along her ribcage. “The blood of old Valyria.”
She felt something burning within her, further ignited by the feeling of his breath on her neck, but then she saw the blood that stained his hand and recalled the stories she’d heard of men and their bloodlust.
“My prince,” she said, trying to walk the situation back only for her to gasp out as he suddenly pulled her back against him. “Daemon, please-”
“Please what?” he said, and if he felt her trembling he did not acknowledge it. “Speak.”
And only one word left her lips, the only word that could possibly move him to reconsider what he’d set out to do. “Rhaenyra…”
She felt Daemon still behind her, and he asked with a sick type of glee, “Do you think she’d feel betrayed to know we were here without her?”
“Yes.”
And that answer only seemed to please him.
“You’re a loyal friend, aren’t you?” he said and his hand tightened around her waist. “But you cannot let that keep you from taking what you want.”
“What I want?” she questioned. “Or what you want?”
“You should not repress your own desires in the name of expectation,” he said, and he pushed her forward, pressing her body between the railing and his own as his hand moved to the waistband of her trousers.
He did not kiss her. He did not hold her.
He only sought to undress her.
“No,” she said firmly as she stepped out of his embrace, and he pouted as if it would change her mind. “No! I will not be defiled-”
“Is that what you think of me?”
“Yes!” she said, but he seemed to take little offence. “Do not mistake my age for naivety. I know precisely what you are.”
“And yet you still came here with me.”
She turned and began to march back towards Seafyre, but not without calling out, “If you want to be bedded you should visit your lady wife!”
“I have whores for that,” he replied and she looked back at him.
“So what is this?”
“Conquest,” he answered and her skin crawled, but she remained strong.
“For what purpose since you cannot marry me?”
“Targaryens are above the laws of men,” he said. “As decreed by my grandsire, and your great grandsire, King Jaehaerys.”
“The same Jaehaerys that saw my mother’s claim be decided by those very men?”
“You were at the Great Council,” he suddenly remembered. “You were little more than an infant.”
“I was five,” she said, pointedly adding. “And you were twenty.”
“I was, and so I remember it well,” he said, and then he smirked with a sudden cruelty. “Tell me, who is heir to Driftmark? Is it you or your younger brother?”
“My brother,” she answered before she could see the meaning to his question.
“Ah, well, it seems your mother is a hypocrite then,” he remarked. “Because if your mother was crowned queen and they stayed with the same precedent that the firstborn inherits regardless of sex, then you would be Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne. Yet you are not even heir to Driftmark.”
Vaera’s lips parted but no words left them as she finally began to understand Daemon’s motivations for bringing her there.
“You yourself had a claim to the throne, though your brother being the second born complicated matters when she was questioned on who would succeed her,” he told her. “For she could not argue her claim whilst denying her daughter her own, but it seems she’s done that regardless.” Daemon tilted his head as he realised, “And you’ve never even thought to challenge it, have you?”
She knew he did not mean the Iron Throne.
But the Driftwood Throne.
A lump formed in her throat and she said, “I have no ambition for-”
“You have no ambition because you have not been allowed to have it,” he argued. “And yet your inheritance has been robbed from you by the same woman who had her own stolen.”
She looked at Daemon in bewilderment, unable to understand why in the name of the seven hells he would even care, but her stomach sank with a sick realisation.
He could not content himself with marrying the heir to Runestone, no, his ambitions sought a greater reward. He saw the realisation dawn in her eyes, but he did not falter even as horror took hold of her.
“You will be expected to marry, and it is important you make a wise decision,” Daemon said and she moved to mount Seafyre without another word, to leave Dragonstone, but he was not done.
He stepped forward towards her just as she reached Seafyre, and a deep growl rose in her dragon’s throat. Seafyre’s jaw opened, casting an orange glow across the stones that stopped Daemon in his tracks whilst Vaera stood by her dragon’s side and stared him down.
“I would again remind you that you already have a wife.”
“Valyrians have the right to take more than one,” he reminded her in return, though he did not dare take another step towards her as she mounted Seafyre and took her reigns.
“And I have no interest in your ambitions,” she replied before giving Seafyre the order to fly. “Sōvēs!”
And she only looked back to make sure Daemon did not move to follow her as she flew from Dragonstone, making it back to the dragon pit as dawn rose above the horizon.
~
Having retrieved her cloak and fled the dragon pit at the sight of Velaryon soldiers approaching, she scurried through Kings Landing with her head down in the early hours of the morning. She attempted to make her way back to the Red Keep, though she soon realised the Velaryon men out in force were searching for her specifically, and their presence caused her to reassess her path.
Eventually she ducked into the sept, one of the last places her father’s men would search, and she exhaled in relief at the sight of Alicent kneeling within. She scurried over, startling Alicent when she kneeled by her side, and Alicent’s eyes widened at the sight of her.
“Vaera? Your father’s sent guards out looking for you! I’d come to pray that they found you safe,” she said, and breathed in only to cough as Vaera adjusted her hood to ensure her hair was still covered. “You smell of dragon. Worse than usual.”
“I have made an error in judgement,” she confessed to Alicent in sight of her gods. “And I fear Rhaenyra will be upset if she hears of it.”
“Your father is beside himself with worry and it is Rhaenyra you fear?” Alicent questioned in bewilderment, and then her lips parted in realisation. “Vaera…”
“He brought me there with the pretence of showing me our ancestral seat, and then-”
“Did he harm you?” Alicent immediately asked. “Did he-”
“No, I did not allow him to touch me,” she said, though that in itself was not entirely true. “He offended me and so I left him there and flew back to the dragon pit. I’d intended to remain there but then I saw my father’s men searching so I’ve been hiding in the city all morning.”
“When I heard my father say your dragon was seen leaving with Daemon’s in the dead of night I did not believe it,” Alicent said. “And even now I cannot understand-”
“I made an error,” Vaera insisted. “He had told me we were kin and I made the mistake of trusting those words.”
“You may be kin but you are also Targaryen,” she said and Vaera lowered her head. “Or at least half-Targaryen.”
“And right now I wish I was not,” she said in truth and Alicent frowned.
“As for Rhaenyra…” Alicent began, trying to console Vaera, only to falter. “Let us pray Rhaenyra does not discover this.”
Rhaenyra held no claim over Daemon, but Alicent and Vaera both knew well that her feelings would suggest otherwise.
“I doubt I am his first choice anyways since he only came across me by chance when I was sneaking out to be with Seafyre,” Vaera muttered, and in a slightly hungover state of panic and sleep deprivation she ranted under her breath. “He’s fixated on Rhaenyra and I. On our silver hair and Valyrian blood.”
“Rhaenyra is his niece,” Alicent tried to rationalise. “And she first bled only last year-”
“Does the prince strike you as the type of man to care for such things? Like you said, we are Targaryens so such things would only excite him, and as for her age –” She cut herself off and Alicent lowered her head. “Gods I hate him.”
“Vaera,” Alicent exhaled, and only then did Vaera’s guard fall as she struggled to keep herself from being reduced to a shaking mess.
“I fear he does not just seek to dishonour me, but-” she could not bring herself to say it, but Alicent understood.
“He has already taken a wife, whether he likes her or not that cannot be undone.”
“When has having one wife stopped a Targaryen from taking another?” she swallowed and Alicent paled. “If there were any other Targaryen princes then my parents would have betrothed me to them rather than give me the choice to choose my own husband, and I fear what may happen if Daemon did make a formal offer to my father for my hand.”
“Surely your father would not allow it,” Alicent gaped. “It has been decades since such a thing has happened, and to take you as his second wife… the faith would riot.”
“Perhaps, but I dare say he’d enjoy that challenge also,” she said and Alicent became truly horrified.
“It is also known that your mother detests Daemon. Even if your father considered it, I can’t imagine she would ever allow it.”
Daemon’s words about her mother played in her mind, but she shook her head to clear it.
“I am just so very tired,” she said to Alicent and Alicent held her hand tight.
“Pray,” she said and whilst Vaera had little faith in any gods, she was always careful to never dismiss them in front of Alicent. “It may bring you some comfort.”
She released Alicent’s hand to clasp both of hers together before her, and her eyes fell shut with exhaustion, but she did as Alicent bid her.
Vaera knelt before the gods and prayed for an escape from her circumstances, for salvation, until the sound of boots echoing through the sept caused her eyes to open and she turned her head to find a lightly armoured man approaching.
Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, though she had no reason to fear him for he was very clearly a visiting knight, dressed in green with a sword at his side. The man was slender and no older than eighteen for he was certainly youthful, and yet still elegant in his stride. He was fair haired and in the light of the sept it glowed red, casting shadows across his face that only pronounced the delicate features that suited him well, and she realised who he was the moment he approached and she was able to look upon his face properly.
A small smile rested on her lips as she met his eye and she looked from him to Alicent, who was still deep in prayer with her eyes shut, and when they did not open Gwayne cleared his throat.
“My deepest apologies for the interruption, my lady, but I don’t suppose you’ve seen my sister?” Gwayne Hightower asked in jest. “I was told she was here.”
Alicent jumped at the sound of his voice, but then a smile broke out across her face as she looked up at him. “Gwayne!”
“Sister,” Gwayne greeted, and though he offered his hand to her she’d already leapt to her feet to greet him, faster than Vaera had ever seen her move, and she smiled as Gwayne brought Alicent into a tight hug.
“Father told me I would find you here,” Gwayne said. “Or rather one of Father’s men.”
“You know Father, always busy,” Alicent dismissed. “When did you arrive?”
“I rode in around dawn, I even happened to see a dragon flying overhead as I rode into the city,” Gwayne said in awe, and it was then Alicent remembered Vaera’s presence. “Certainly not something you see around Oldtown.”
“Gwayne, I can’t recall if you two have met,” Alicent said, looking down at her friend who still knelt by the altar. “This is my dear friend, Lady Vaera Velaryon, whose dragon you no doubt saw this morning. Vaera, this is my brother, Ser Gwayne.”
“My lady, I did not recognise you,” Gwayne said as she pulled back her hood to reveal her silver hair. “Though I should have as I am sure we would have been introduced at some point when we were young.”
“Surely,” she said considering her long-standing closeness with Alicent, though she knew how rarely he came to court, and she accepted the hand he extended to her as she rose. “Thank you, Ser.”
Gwayne helped her to her feet, though she stumbled slightly as she tried to find her footing, and he steadied her with a light hand on her arm.
“My lady, are you well?”
“My friend has not slept since she decided to spend the night on dragonback,” Alicent said, decidedly omitting a few key details. “You would think she carried the Targaryen name with how difficult it is to keep her from her dragon.”
Vaera laughed lightly, knowing that she must have looked a mess after such a long flight with her hair loose, not to mention her day-old riding clothes that had been dirtied from the city, but Gwayne did not seem to mind. If anything, he seemed to be in a state of wonder.
“I cannot say I have ever properly met a dragon rider, so it is a pleasure to be once again introduced, my lady,” he said, and Vaera wore a close-lipped smile as their eyes met.
“Likewise, Ser.”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly as courtesy permitted, but just as she’d forgotten what brought her to the sept she heard her father’s voice bellowing her name from the steps.
“Vaera!”
“Shit,” she cursed beneath her breath and she quickly grabbed onto Alicent’s arm as she ducked and looked to hide, but she realised it would be futile.
Gwayne’s hand reached for the pommel of his sword upon seeing their shared panic, but Alicent quickly pushed it aside as Corlys crossed the threshold and she said beneath her breath, “It is the Seasnake.”
Gwayne’s and Alicent’s posture immediately straightened as Corlys approached and Vaera could not meet his eye as he came and pulled her cloak aside to see her riding clothes.
“Have you lost your senses?” Corlys asked in pure exasperation. “You and your obsession with that dragon, and now-”
“Will you truly raise your voice in a place of prayer?” Vaera interrupted and Corlys gawked at her audacity before grabbing her by the arm and dragging her from the altar. She looked back at Alicent who cringed for her friend whilst Gwayne looked on in concerned confusion as she was pulled out of the sept and onto the stairs below.
“I have had my men looking for you since before dawn!” Corlys exclaimed, though he lowered his voice to an angry whisper when he saw people looking their way. “Ever since I had Otto Hightower of all people banging on my door in the dead of night to tell me you were seen flying to Dragonstone with Daemon, and no doubt I’ll have Vaemond sending a raven-”
“He said he wished to show me the ancestral seat of House Targaryen as we are kin,” she said, but he could only shake his head in bewilderment.
“Why would you go anywhere with Daemon!”
“Because he gave me little choice in the matter,” she said and he scoffed.
“We both know that one cannot force a dragon rider to do something they do not want to do,” he dismissed. “What madness has possessed you-”
“Does mother know?” she interrupted and Corlys blinked in genuine offence.
“Do you fear your mother’s anger more than my own?”
“Do you not fear it also?” she countered and his mouth slammed shut. “I am sorry, Father. I made an error in judgement and I am sorry.”
Corlys struggled now, and his voice wavered as he began to ask, “Did Daemon-”
“He attempted to court me and I refused him,” Vaera said, though both she and Corlys knew that courted was hardly the appropriate term for it. “I left him there and flew back to the city.”
Corlys seemed torn now between his anger as a father and his usual support for Daemon. “But nothing occurred?”
“Of course not,” Vaera said. “Seafyre was with me, and I would have threatened him with her if it came to that.”
“You would have threatened to burn a prince?” Corlys questioned, though not entirely in disapproval.
“Can you truly say that in all the years he has known my mother that she herself has never threatened it?”
Corlys almost smiled before remembering his anger and he placed a hand upon her shoulder as he raised a stern finger. “You are not to venture out into the dragon pit past sunset, even with an escort. Do you understand?”
“Yes father,” she said and he nodded in relief considering he’d no doubt expected a greater fight.
“Now come, you reek of dragon,” Corlys said to her with authoritative fondness. “I shall speak to your mother whilst you ready yourself for this afternoon’s events and then she will no doubt want to speak to you also.”
He began to walk her down the steps and she looked back to see Alicent and Gwayne standing in the threshold of the sept, watching her leave, and she gave Alicent a nod to assure her she was alright before she was guided down into the square.
“Father,” she suddenly said when they reached the bottom of the steps. “I do not want to marry a man like Daemon.”
Corlys blinked and he opened his mouth but he seemed to be at a loss for words. “I- I have not asked you to.”
“And I never want you to,” she said, and Corlys quietly understood. “He did not dishonour me, but only because I did not allow him to. Because I knew better despite the lapse in judgement that brought me there, and if he were to approach you spouting some madness about finding a way out of his current marriage… I would expect you to refuse him on my behalf.”
“Daemon spoke of marriage?” Corlys spluttered and Vaera remained quiet. “Do you mean to tell me he asked for your hand?”
“Did you not listen to a word I just said?” she exclaimed and Corlys very carefully tried to find a middle ground with his daughter.
“Daemon is a difficult man of questionable morals, I will not deny that, but-”
“But nothing,” Vaera harshly rejected and she turned to make her way back to the dragon pit. “At least I know that if my own father will not protect me from the whoremongers of Flea Bottom, my dragon will.”
He grabbed her by her arm to keep her from leaving, and he swore to her, “You will always have my protection, but I just cannot understand how this has even happened-”
“He intercepted me on my way to the dragon pit and chose to escort me himself since his gold cloaks were brutalising the city,” she said and Corlys cringed. “Which you clearly knew of.”
“I- that is a matter for the council, not for you.”
“And yet I bore witness to that wanton brutality and bloodshed,” she said and Corlys’s face fell as she spat, “I hid beneath a fucking market stall while they cut off cocks and kicked in men’s heads-”
“You, you were caught up in all of that?” he realised and she could only huff. “You mean to tell me that Daemon had not escorted you from the keep, but that you were out in that city alone-”
“Until Daemon found me. I wanted to go back to the keep but he would not allow it since he did not deem it safe, so that was how I ended up with him,” she said to her father. “And I do not ever want to be alone with him again.”
Corlys swallowed hard and nodded. “I will have words with Daemon.”
“As you should,” she said, considering Daemon’s transgressions far outweighed any of hers. “Now, I want to go home.”
Corlys nodded towards the Sept and asked, “You do not want to travel with Lady Alicent?”
She looked back towards the sept to see Gwayne escorting Alicent down the stairs and she shook her head, but her eyes still followed them.
“I’ll let Alicent catch up with her brother, I’ll see her again soon enough.”
And with that Vaera allowed Corlys to escort her back to the keep in preparation for that night’s welcome feast.