KINGSANDING, 106 AC

⠀⠀⠀⠀Vaerya Targaryen could not remember the last time speaking to her older half-brother brought her any enjoyment. Perhaps it was six years ago when she arrived in Kings Landing to take her place in court, and he met her at the Dragonpit. He had welcomed her with open arms, doting on the girl he recently named Princess of Dragonstone. "My, how you've grown," he smiled. "Gaelithox and Dieghar have grown too," he added. "Your mother has kept you hidden in Driftmark for far too long. The Realm will be delighted to see their Dragon Princess again," he declared.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Yes, that was the last time the girl had been delighted to see him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Now, she could barely stand to be in his presence. She knew he was speaking and could register the muffled words, but she wasn't truly paying attention; his words meant nothing to her. She continued to pick at the dirt left under her nails from her daily dragon ride earlier that morning. She wished she could tunnel into the earth forever and rest among the worms; they would make better conversation than Viserys. No, she did not deserve to be buried. She truly wished she could dig a hole into which to push her brother. If the Realm was lucky, the worms would eat him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Princess?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀This voice managed to wedge itself into her brain and grab her attention. She immediately sighed in annoyance. It was a subconscious reaction when it came to the man. Ser Otto Hightower, Hand of the King, was looking at her from across the table, eyebrows raised in waiting for an answer. She pursed her lips slightly, imagining how she might go about pushing him into the same hole her brother would be in.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Pardon me, Ser Hightower, my mind was elsewhere," she offered in false apology. "Can you repeat the question?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀"How do you feel about a betrothal to Lord Jason Lannister?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀Lord Jason Lannister was the current Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport, and Warden of the West. Despite his high status, he had a far worse personality than any drunkard that could be randomly picked up from Flea Bottom. In fact, a drunken fool could easily be a better fit for court than him. No amount of gold coin or golden hair could overshadow his smug and smarmy attitude. He claimed to be a lion but could more accurately be described as a gnat. The only topics he could intelligently speak about were the whore houses he had visited the night before, how much game he slew hunting, and which port the alcohol in his cups arrived from.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"The yellow oaf?" She snarked. "I would rather swim across the the Narrow Sea and live out my days in a pleasure house in the free cities." Her reply made jaws drop and eyebrows furrow. "Besides, I would be tempted to burn down the towers of Casterly Rock. It is such an eyesore to the horizon of the Sunset Sea."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Gods help us," Grand Maester Runciter muttered.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Viserys forced out a dry chuckle from the back of his throat. "Certainly you do not mean such a thing, dear sister."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Oh, I think she does, Your Grace," Corlys Velaryon jested. He sent a playful wink to his stepdaughter. "Besides, I will not have my daughter marry a Lannister. We all know the lions are Velaryon pretenders in their failed attempts to become the wealthiest house."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"You would do well to hold your tongue, Lord Corlys," Ser Hightower warned in a matter-of-factly tone. He always spoke to the others as if he knew more than them: she even heard him occasionally talk down to the king in such a manner. "We may be in the Red Keep, but all castles have vermin willing to squeal for a small amount of cheese."

⠀⠀⠀⠀The king nodded his head in the direction of his hand to agree. "Besides, Vaerya is not your daughter to betroth. As the first born son of Baelor I Targaryen and King of the Realm, the decision of her marriage is mine by right."

⠀⠀⠀⠀This statement demanded Vaerya's full attention and indeed received it. These words were not muffled. They entered her ears and assaulted her mind, lodging themselves in the grey matter of her brain. "Can you not speak about me as if I am not here?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀She was ignored, of course. What value could she add to the conversation as a woman? What did she know about ruling the Realm, arranging a marriage, or even being an autonomous agent capable of making her own decisions?

⠀⠀⠀⠀She caught herself glancing over at the seat to the left of the king, only to find the chair empty. It had been vacant for months, yet she still found herself instinctively attempting to rouse the support of the man who was supposed to sit there. She knew he would have jumped to her defense if he had been there, but he wasn't, and she was instead reminded of how lonely life at court was.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The kindling flames of her anger were immediately doused as scorn was replaced with melancholy. In all of Kings Landing, the Dragon Princess, adored by most, honestly only had a few: there was Lord Corlys Velaryon, her stepfather, who had always loved her as his own, but he only sailed across the sea for small council meetings; lovely Rhaenyra was always close on her heels, but the princess was only nine and still had lots to learn; she spent countless hours telling Nymeria Martell, her dutiful lady-in-waiting, all her secrets; Erock Stark, her sworn shield, was practically her shadow—one she adored—and the only guard she did not order away whenever possible; and Daemon Targaryen, her princely half-brother, was her rock, the anchor in the storm that was the depressive life of a growing girl at court.

⠀⠀⠀⠀But Daemon was not here, and she found herself slowly drowning. Ironic since she spent half her life in Driftmark, finding an inexplainable comfort in the sea. The ocean was the single place—besides the sky on dragonback—she could become weightless and finally be lighter than the royal expectations that rested on her shoulders. However, a person can only tread water for so long before they tire. The princess realized she was indeed utterly exhausted, physically and emotionally.

⠀⠀⠀⠀She spared a glance at her niece, who stood in the corner of the room holding a pitcher of wine. The princess had been reduced to the king's cupbearer. What a shame. She knew her niece had so much potential in her if only her brother would acknowledge it. The child caught her aunt's eyes and offered a toothy grin. The older princess returned the gesture with tight lips. Not even her beloved niece could make her happy or provide an ounce of comfort at the moment. How disheartening.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Vaerya rose and pushed her chair back in one fluid motion. The abruptness of her actions caused the older men to cease their bickering and once more return their attention to the subject of their argument. Subject... That's all she was and would ever be as long as she was perceived as a girl.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Did they not remember she was a dragon? A dragon was still a dragon no matter how outwardly docile.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"I am retiring for the day, Your Grace," she excused herself.

⠀⠀⠀⠀She did not wait for permission to leave but instead turned and strode towards the exit. The stationed guards straightened their posture in respect, and she nodded her head in thanks. She went through the heavy doors opened for her, ignoring the quietly whispered protests of Ser Otto Hightower.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"This conversation is not over, Vaerya!" Her brother managed to call after her before the doors closed themselves.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The girl continued walking, not stopping to gather her sworn sword. She did not have to, for he was always attentive to her. The soft sound of metal filled her ears as she heard him fall in line behind her. He dutifully followed her from the meeting room in the Tower of the Hand to the royal apartments in Maegor's Holdfast, not speaking a word until they finally arrived at her chambers.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"My brother means to marry me off!" She griped as soon as he ensured the doors were securely shut behind them. She busied her fingers with taking out the heavy earrings she wore lest she begin to throw her hands expressively in every which direction. This habit had been reprimanded out of her as a young girl. "And to Jason Lannister of all people! I have half a mind to mount Xadras and disappear." She managed to get one golden dangle out and tossed it onto the closest surface.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Where would you go, princess?" His voice was soft, always managing to calm her. He constantly kept a level head. She had come to believe it was an inherited Stark trait, for every northerner she met was even-tempered.

⠀⠀⠀⠀She struggled with the second earring, pulling harshly at her earlobe to remove it. "It doesn't matter to me. Preferably as far away from Jason Lannister and all the other gawking lords as possible. Oh, how they love to stare. I should find someone to gauge their eyes out. I know they were raised better."

⠀⠀⠀⠀He closed the gap between them before placing his hands over her own. His fingertips lightly touched hers, signaling her to make room for his. "And how would I follow you?" He inquired, deft fingers easily undoing the earring that had troubled her. "I swore an oath to follow you to the ends of the Realm, though it may be hard to do so if you are on dragonback."

⠀⠀⠀⠀He placed the earring in her palm as if it was the most fragile thing he had ever held. He did not step away. She turned, lilac eyes peering up at him through dark lashes. "You will come with me Erock Stark. I believed that obvious."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"How would I get there, princess?" He asked, his right hand gingerly resting on her cheek. "Ranger is a trusty steed but I worry she will give out long before we reach whatever destination you have in mind."

⠀⠀⠀⠀She huffed playfully at his feigned ignorance. I will force you and Ria to mount Xadras. Seven hells, even Drack can accompany us if he is so inclined, which we both know he will be. My dragon is undoubtedly large enough to carry all of us. Not necessarily comfortably in the current saddle; it only seats one. But I can have another made. And in any case, I have two more fully grown–"

⠀⠀⠀⠀Vaerya was abruptly cut off as Erock's lips attached to hers. The two kissed like slightly experienced teenagers did: sloppy yet sweet, a little rushed but balanced. His hand traveled from her cheek to the back of her neck, his pointer finger twirling the silver hairs that had fallen from her plaited hair over the day. Though she was pretty inexperienced in the art of kissing games, she was able to meet him in the middle, though he still took the lead. She had kissed him in secret enough times to become familiar with his mouth and the way it moved during their amorous exchanges.

⠀⠀⠀⠀He pulled away first, knowing she was nearing the end of her ability to partake without catching a breath. His forehead remained against hers, and an amiable smile curled his lips. "You have improved rather greatly from the first time we kissed, princess."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"I have always been a quick learner, Stark," she quipped. "I am certain you are aware that you just kissed the youngest dragonrider in history."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Ah yes," Erock laughed. "Princess Vaerya Targaryen, master dragonrider at five and learned kisser at fifteen. The maesters would do well to fill the pages in their books about your achievements."

⠀⠀⠀⠀She ran her hand up the breastplate of his armor. "Believe me, my wolf, there will plenty of things to write about me," she promised.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Vaerya spoke the words to Erock, but the message was for herself. She was quite aware that her mandatory betrothal to some selected suitor was looming in the distance, creeping closer and closer. Her king brother would have her tamed by then too, for no man would want to marry a spitfire girl. She also understood that her husband, whoever he was to be, would indeed attempt to further his own power now that he was wedded into the den of dragons; her mother had warned her against the treacheries of men from a young age.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Kings Landing had stripped the girl of her happiness long ago, but her dignity did not get taken with it. As a princess, she was expected to perform her duties to the kingdom, and she would, honestly. She decided to do so without resistance from that moment on; the moment she was deemed docile would be when her brother would marry her off. The sooner such a union occurred, the sooner she could perform her duties and then get on with her life.

⠀⠀⠀⠀That said, she vowed to not allow herself to forget who she was. A coiled serpent was lying beneath her ivory skin, suffocating inside the confines of restricting jeweled bodices. It was quick to rise when provoked, determined to spit hellfire on those she deemed her enemy. For now, it would lie dormant, but it would not be afraid to wake.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Vaerya Targaryen would not allow herself to forget who she was. It would serve others well to remember it too.

⠀⠀⠀⠀It took King Viserys I Targaryen and the rest of the Small Council, particularly Ser Otto Hightower, all of three moons to decide that Princess Vaerya was in perfect condition to take on a suitor. Each man sitting around the large rectangular table noticed the girl's change. Grand Maester Ructiner viewed it as a change incited by her female biology. Lord Corlys cited the salty air of Driftmark to have done the deed during her week visit a moon before. King Viserys did not care what caused the change, nor did he question it. He was simply thankful it had occurred.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The Hand of the King insisted suitors from every corner of the Seven Kingdoms come and present themselves before the king, then His Grace may choose the best one suited to marry his half-sister, named Princess of Dragonstone. For this reason, a murder of ravens left the capital, numbering in the thousands, spreading the word to every lord, large and small.

⠀⠀⠀⠀A fortnight later, the Red Keep was filled to the brim with eligible bachelors and their large trains of entourages. Lords and knights came from the Riverlands, Iron Islands, Westerlands, Reach, Dorne, Stormlands, Vale, North, and even the free cities. Of course, each great house sent forth its own choice of suitors perfected for the role of Prince Consort of Dragonstone.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Vaerya currently hid in her solar, feigning illness to the king and council for a short reprieve from entertaining possible suitors. She had spent the past three days and nights receiving jewels, listening to ballads, hearing stories, and accepting cups of wine. She could not remember a single name or face of any of the men that approached her during the period. Each looked like the last and sounded like the first. They all complimented her beauty and offered praises for her dragons.

⠀⠀⠀⠀On several occasions, lords had been bold enough to try and convince her to lend them a moment of her time, promising great benefit of speaking privately with them. She obliged the first but became quickly annoyed when he noted her sworn sword several times during the conversation. He attempted to convince her to send the guard away; she politely refused. Then the man began to speak about building a Dragon Pit on his own lands if she were to do the honor of marrying him. That is where she drew the line, though nicely, remembering her promise to herself.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"My dragons do not need a giant cage," she informed him. "If we were to marry, we would reside at Dragonstone, where dragons fly free." Living in a place where such beasts roamed about seemed to unsettle him. The man's face grew pale, and he promptly excused himself with a bow before rushing out of the room. The princess had turned to her protector and shared a laugh.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Now, Erock stood at attention by the doors of the room. They remained comfortably quiet as she flipped through the pages of the history book held in her lap. It was a detailed history of all the known dragons hatched before hers. Her finger traced over the immaculate sketch of an emerald dragon said to live in Valaryia. How she would have loved to see a world full of dragons before the Doom.

⠀⠀⠀⠀A high-pitched whistle from beyond the castle walls made her look up from the page. She closed the leather-bound book and left it on the velvet cushion of her chair. One being in all of the Seven Kingdoms could only produce the noise, and her suspicion was confirmed upon stepping onto her terrace. A dark figure danced in the sky, steadily becoming closer as the noise loudened. She smiled, contentment washing over her for the first time in three days.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Caraxes was flying towards Kings Landing. Prince Daemon Targaryen was returning home.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The girl returned inside, a giant smile on her lips. "Your brother?" The guard inquired, though he already knew the answer. She nodded excitedly, and he could only sigh. Like so many in the court, he too despised the prince. To the princess, he could do no wrong. "Well, I suppose we should be off to the Dragon Pit, my lady," he conceded, already expecting their departure. She always met him there.

⠀⠀⠀⠀She lifted the skirts of her carnation-colored gown and led the way. The two made it out of the royal apartments and to the archway that connected the holdfast to the rest of the fortress before they were stopped. She did not stop for long but simply wrapped her dainty hand around the person's wrist and dragged them along.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Where are you hurrying off to?" Nymeria questioned, doing her best to adjust her skirts as they scurried through the halls. "I come bearing news of the utmost importance."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"She knows of Prince Daemon's arrival," the man interjected, keeping pace with the two in front of him. "Have you ever seen her move at such a speed for anything else but him?"