— KINGS LANDING, 107 AC

⠀⠀⠀⠀During the third moon of the 107th year after Aegon's Conquest, Princess Vaerya Targaryen was set to be married to Lord Madwen Hightower in a grand ceremony. According to the small council, it would be an event so splendid that the likes of it hadn't been seen since King Viserys I Targaryen's marriage to Queen Aemma.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The first month of the couple's betrothal was cordial enough. The pair functioned as best two strangers could in their circumstances. It should be noted that the lord appeared much more enthusiastic about the proposal. But why wouldn't he be? He was being married to a princess, therefore becoming a prince consort. She attempted to entertain the idea of marrying the man, agreeing to the daily walks through the castle gardens that the man offered. He showered her with plenty of gifts, which she accepted with a kind smile. They took three meals a week together, though he often pushed for more. When she declined, he was cordial, never showing the temper he was said to have.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The second month was when things began to change. The two still strolled through the gardens each afternoon, though servants whispered that it often seemed the lord was dragging around his soon-to-be wife. His hand was reportedly always clasped around her wrist instead of his arm linked with hers. She was never seen to wear any of the jewelry he had gifted her, causing tensions to rise. When she refused to replace the Valaryian steel bracelet given to her by her half-brother for his golden bangle encrusted with emeralds, he raised his voice and called her a plethora of insults. Her sworn sword stepped in, reporting the incident straight to the small council, though the king and her stepfather were not in attendance and purposely never told. The lord was forced to apologize, and though she accepted it, the princess didn't dine with him for the rest of the month.

⠀⠀⠀⠀During the third month, he crossed the line, and she decided their haphazardly constructed relationship couldn't be salvaged. He had screamed vulgarities at her lady-in-waiting, going as far as to lay his hands on her. The princess swore that if he ever did so again, she would personally cut off his hands, so he had none to raise. He laughed in her face, asking what a child could possibly do to him, a grown man. "You will see what happens when you make an enemy of the dragon," she told him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀After a week of not seeing one another, Vaerya was forced to sit next to Madwen when Viserys ordered them to join him and the others for dinner. The room was reasonably quiet, the sound of live music drifting from the corner the musician stood in. The king was attempting his best to instigate conversation, though all his attempts fell flat when it was other people's turn to speak.

⠀⠀⠀⠀He sighed loudly, drawing everyone's attention from their plates and cups to him. He set down his silverware dramatically, allowing the clatter of metal to resonate in their ears for added effect. "What do you all know that I do not?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀Ser Otto Hightower quickly glanced at his nephew, the princess seated next to him, and then back to the king. "I assure you Your Grace, there is nothing of the sort to worry your mind about."

⠀⠀⠀⠀Rhaenyra slammed her fork onto the table in retaliation to the man's reply. Her light eyebrows were furrowed in anger, blue eyes shooting daggers into his soul. "You shouldn't lie to my father, Ser Otto," she said, speaking to him as if he was the child and her the adult. "It is treasonous to speak falsely to the king." The ten-year-old likely recited words heard from the septa, but the sentiment was clearly there. Her words swayed her father.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"What do you know, Rhaenyra?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Lord Madwen has been violent towards Rya," she replied as if such information were blatantly obvious. "Ser Erock informed the small council a moon ago but all they did was force him to apologize to her."

⠀⠀⠀⠀Lord Corlys was quick to his feet, his knuckles wrapped tightly around the knife he had been using to cut his meat. He leaned over the table and pointed it at Madwen. "Who do you believe yourself to be acting in such a manner towards my daughter? Speak now before you lose your tongue, boy."

⠀⠀⠀⠀The man on the receiving end of the threats rose himself, drawing the two blades he often kept sheathed to his back. "Who are you calling boy? I am Lord Madwen Hightower, the heir of Oldtown and soon to be prince consort of Dragonstone. It would be in your best interest to hold your tongue."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"You are the lord of nothing yet, nor a prince of any kind," the Velaryon spat. "I'll have a raven sent to your father instructing him to select a new heir for his will be returning in pieces."

⠀⠀⠀⠀Madwen's lips broke into a wicked grin, and his eyes became void of emotion except for primality. He glided his tongue over his teeth while cocking his head to the side. "I suppose it's good that the Queen Who Never Was is in attendance tonight. It saves me from sending my letter to Driftmark," he goaded. It was clear that he was itching for a fight. With his betrothed absent, he lacked ways to indulge his impulses for the past week. Now, he couldn't deny the urges any longer.

⠀⠀⠀⠀During the rapid exchange, two members of the Kingsguard had managed to escort Queen Aemma and the young children (Rhaenrya, Alicent, Laena, and Laenor) out of the room at the behest of Viserys; another stood close to the king, his hand on the pommel of his weapon. Erock had silently attempted to remove his charge from the vicinity, but she sat like stone in her chair and refused to react to his attempts, let alone follow them. He conceded and instead did his best to provide a barrier between her and the rising tension.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Madwen!" Otto raised his voice, right eye twitching as he looked at his nephew in contempt. "Put down your blades."

⠀⠀⠀⠀He laughed, "Oh uncle, you always were so boring. I see life at court has done nothing to change you. Real men fight with swords, not words!" He turned his attention back to the instigator so he could further entice him into a fight. "And I'm certain Lord Valeryon is a real man, aren't you?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Both of you, sit down before I have you thrown into the dungeons," the king interjected, attempting his best to defuse the situation with force. He had never been good at ruling with a heavy hand, so even this command was out of character. Thankfully, the empty threat worked, and both men dropped their weapons and sat back down, but only after menacingly staring at one another for a few more seconds.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Viserys turned to his sister, who was seated to the right of him. He placed a hand over hers in an attempt to appear comforting. This was not as successful as his last action. "Vaerya, is there any truth to what my daughter spoke of? Speak honestly and fear not retribution from anyone."

⠀⠀⠀⠀The girl slid her hand from under his and instead occupied it with the chalice half-filled with wine in front of her. Taking her time to answer, she took a sip. "Yes, My Grace. There is truth in the words Princess Rhaenyra spoke. Lord Madwen has not only verbally assaulted me, but physically attacked Lady Nymeria Martell as well." She said this without emotion, making those in attendance shiver uneasily.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Why did you not say anything?" Her mother questioned, a look of despair on her face.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"I must marry whomever the king sees fit," she explained, swirling the liquid in the cup and watching it create a vortex in the center. She wished she could make a giant vortex and send the entirety of House Hightower into it, save for Alicent. "My brother has chosen Lord Madwen for me to marry and give children. This is how I serve the Realm."

⠀⠀⠀⠀Viserys looked conflicted, and Otto appeared shocked beneath his stoic demeanor. Rhaenys had tears in her eyes, and Corlys could do nothing but shake his head. As for Madwen, he tried his best to hide the smirk that threatened to curve his lip upward. They all thought her stupid and believed her to be weak. Good. Let them take her to be a fool. As a young woman, she played the part to perfection. They would be none the wiser that she was the one directing the entire drama, and they had been cast into her chosen roles.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Madwen Hightower, you are to return to Oldtown and pray to the Seven that they will forgive you for your sins," the king announced.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The man doubled over, shoulders shaking as he laughed loudly. The fit continued for an awkward moment before he finally composed himself enough to answer. "I'm sorry, my King. You see, Princess Vaerya and I have already consummated our upcoming marriage." He wiped a tear of amusement from the corner of his eye. "Now, we must marry."

⠀⠀⠀⠀The girl had been wrong, so very wrong. She waltzed directly into the web he had been masterfully weaving since his arrival at Kings Landing. He had known her secret. She was nothing but a fly, terribly stuck in the spider's trap. All she could do was wait in horrible anticipation to be devoured piece by piece until there was nothing left of her.

⠀⠀⠀⠀No amount of devout prayers could save Vaerya Targaryen from her union with the man who sought to bring about her downfall purely for the amusement of doing so. Whereas she was just beginning to learn, he had been a master for years. He was far too well practiced in playing games of deceit. Madwen Hightower successfully managed to win his largest prize yet, and now he was hours away from ascending the title of lord to prince consort. This was a fact he refused to let his betrothed forget, constantly dangling his victory in her face the three weeks leading up to their wedding ceremony.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"I made an enemy of the dragon, darling," he would constantly taunt. "And yet nothing has happened. Where's your spark now?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀She spent the last hour of her freedom on her balcony with her two closest friends by her side. Her lady-in-waiting had refused to leave her side for the past week, always two steps behind her and ready to verbally berate anyone who might question the princess about her virtue. Her sworn sword also refused to leave her alone, often guarding her quarters or comforting her in the dimly lit corridors of the castle.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Vaerya appeared emotionless as her violet eyes gazed at the sea and beyond. She wished so badly to escape to the Dragonpit, demand her dragons be released, and fly into the horizon. She did not know where she would go, but she did not care. At least in the sky atop Xadras, with Gaelithox and Dieghar beside them, she would be free... genuinely free.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Nymeria quietly played with a loose strand of the girl's silver hair. Hours before, it had been plaited and twisted into an extravagant updo. Rhaenyra and Laena had giddily threaded crimson gems into it, giving the bride a crown that required no metal to make it true. Erock fidgeted with the fabric of one of the billowy sleeves that swallowed her pale arms. Rhaenys and Aemma had helped her dress before the serving girls had done her hair.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"I know not what will happen after I am married to Madwen," the princess confessed, her voice slightly cracking as her genuine emotions threatened to show. "But I promise on my life that the three of us will be together."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"We could escape south," the other woman offered weakly, knowing fully well her words were nothing more than an empty dream. "My sister owes no alliance to your brother. She would protect us."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Viserys would order Dorne to burn."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"But we would burn together," the man said.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Something tells me in every version of this story we are destined to burn."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"For you, my sun, I would dance in the flames," Nymeria reaffirmed her allegiance to the princess. She forced the girl to look at her before placing a soft kiss on her lips, sealing the unspoken promise.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"And I," Erock agreed. He placed his lips on the girl's temple, offering as much comfort as possible.

⠀⠀⠀⠀For a brief moment, the three were together, preparing themselves to boldly face what was to come. A Targaryen did not answer to any men, a Martell did not bow or break, and a Stark did not cower before the impending winter storm. Hand in hand, the three were determined to survive whatever plots the Hightowers intended to set into motion.

⠀⠀⠀⠀A dark carpet ran the entire vertical length of the Great Hall, creating a division between the thousand lords and ladies who excitedly awaited the princess' marriage. The future prince consort stood before the throne with the septon as he waited. When the enormous crowd ceased their whispering, his rather bored expression drastically changed to one that could only be described as malignant in nature.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Before him came the princess—better yet, his prey—and the king who was delivering her. The train of her white dress trailed behind her, and though it was heavy, she felt it was gaining weight the closer her brother escorted her toward the man who intended to devour her. It felt as if it was collecting an immense amount of dread settling in the pit of her stomach. She so wished she had been allowed to wear the colors of her house, for she might have been able to fake confidence covered in red. But her brother had not allowed it. White was to be her color, he ordered, for he was ashamed of her supposed loss of virtue and did not want others questioning it. She was to play the part of an innocent princess to perfection; that was her punishment from him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Please, Gods," she muttered, tilting her head upwards to the ceiling. She was not only begging for a last-minute intervention from the Seven but also willing herself not to allow the tears pricking at the corner of her eyes to fall. She refused to give the man in front of her that. She refused to give any man that.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Vaerya Targaryen was a dragon, and dragons do not weep. They screamed until their throats turned raw and reigned hellfire upon those that dared to threaten them. Madwen Hightower would soon be praying for the mercy of the wronged dragon. This she swore to herself and the Gods who had not answered her.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Last-minute prayer will not forfeit this marriage," her brother said, his voice low so only she would hear him. He continued to dawn a tight-lipped smile for those attending the ceremony, lending a nod to a few stand-out nobles along the way. "You lost that chance when you laid with him."

⠀⠀⠀⠀She ignored him, letting the words enter one ear and exit the other. She had never asked him to cancel the arrangement because she could not. Her betrothed would expose her, and she would be far worse for wear than now. Her brother's words only led her to swear to herself and the Gods that the king would also pray for her mercy one day.

⠀⠀⠀⠀The two royals reached the stone steps that led to the throne, the septon finally spoke, and the marriage ceremony commenced. "Who gives this woman?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀"King Viserys of the House Targaryen," he proudly proclaimed. The king spoke as if giving away his half-sister was the biggest accomplishment of his reign thus far. His tone seemed convincing enough as a ripple of excited murmurs traveled through the audience.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Who takes her?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Madwen of the House Hightower." The man kept her captive in his predatory gaze, not allowing her a second of reprieve. To others, it appeared as if he was admiring his bride, but in reality, he was locating every physical sign of weakness she tried to hide.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection protection in front of the eyes of people and gods: Father, Smith, Warrior, Maiden, Mother, Crone, and Stranger," the septon continued.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Madwen removed the black cloak from her shoulders and handed it to Viserys, who then took his place at the front of the crowd next to Aemma and Rhaenyra. The Hightower sigil, a burning tower, replaced the red three-headed dragon she should have been dawning. Vaerya felt as if she was wearing a fake skin that did not quite fit right—green would never be for her.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever." The septon gestured for the couple to hold hands. The princess gave her slightly shaking hand to the lord, who squeezed it hard enough to cause a momentary bout of pain.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"Let it be known that Vaerya of House Targaryen and Madwen of House Hightower are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder." The old man wrapped the piece of ceremonial lace around their joined hands. She was half tempted to snatch it and wrap it tightly around her neck until she could no longer breath. "In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words."

⠀⠀⠀⠀They turned towards one another, and she dully uttered her vows, his voice easily overpowering hers. "Father, Smith, Warrior, Maiden, Mother, Crone, and Stranger..."

⠀⠀⠀⠀"I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days," he wickedly beamed.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"I am his and he is mine, from this day until the end of my days," she barely finished.

⠀⠀⠀⠀"With this kiss, I pledge my love," Madwen announced, gesturing dramatically outwards to the crowd of lords and ladies awaiting the official sealing of the marriage. He forced her body towards his in one jerky motion and smashed his lips onto hers. This kiss was not sweet like the ones she had shared with Nymeria and Erock; it was sour and putrid. It made her nose scrunch in disgust. Vaerya hated it.