The room was stuffy, filled with piles of fabric, gowns, strings of jewels. Rhaenyra was surrounded by fussing attendants, pinning and plucking at her every inch.
“Straighten your back, princess.” One woman hummed with two needles between her teeth.
Rhaenyra did so silently, she continued to stare aimlessly across the room while Vhaela sat and watched on a chair a few paces away.
A few beams of sunlight poured through the high window casting a radiant light on the pink and gold fabrics spread around the room.
Dust traveled slowly through the air, peaking through as it passed through the light.
“Your shoulder’s princess.” Another chirped a small correction at the irritated princess.
Vhaela breathed a small laugh and continued working on her embroidery wheel, a nice violet background with a golden dragon for Rhaenyra. She had taken her time to weave small loops and golden curls around the border and was nearly finished.
“Lift your chin-” one of the ladies began to speak when Rhaenyra snapped her head away and suddenly huffed.
“If one more person stabs me with a pin, there will be no wedding because there will be no castle.” She stated frustratedly, “begone for now, all of you.”
The frozen attendants suddenly flurried back into action grabbing their things and leaving the room.
Vhaela shook her head lightly and set her wheel aside, “I think you're snappier than Syrax Rhaenyra.” She cracked a smile as Rhaenyra gave her a ‘shut up’ look, “they were just trying to do their job.”
Rhaenyra huffed and puffed for a moment trying to undo her tight collar and corset, “Vhaela, could you help me?” She muttered.
Vhaela silently moved her hands near Rhaenyra's neck, undoing the delicate lacing. Her fingers trembled with the small strings, softly brushing against the skin of Rhaenyra’s neck before pulling the intricate jewelry piece loose.
The young princess turned to face her as she finished loosening her own corset. A discontent look on her face that mirrored Vhaela's own.
“Why are you frowning?” Vhaela hummed as they stood closely face to face.
“I'm to be married of course.” Rhaenyra nearly scoffed. She leaned forward to rest her head on Vhaela's shoulder, “why are you frowning?” her voice was a bit muffled.
A small pang of something sour struck inside Vhaela's chest though she suppressed it with a tight smile, “you're to be married of course…” she echoed in a solemnly playful tone.
At this Rhaenyra drew back, keeping her eyes set like a dragon on Vhaela's face. “Nothing will change, it will still be me and you. Flying and dancing through the days, only…” she hesitated for a moment.
“Only you'll be married.” you'll have no time for me, she didn't say the second part outloud.. “And you'll have to run the kingdom eventually, have children,-”
“And you'll be doing those things here with me too. You will be close with my children, and stay by my side as I rule…I'm sure my father will one day pick you a fine man to marry and have children for.” Rhaenyra set her hands on either side of Vhaela's arms to keep her in place, scrunching her nose slightly as she said the last piece.
Vhaela's eyes widened at her words though she didn't fight her grasp, “I dont- I just-” her words came out in a chopped up mess leaving her flushed and disheartened.
Rhaenyra watched her closely as she lowered her hands to lace through Vhaela's.
“I don't want to do anything, I want things to stay the same. I want to fly all the way up to the moon, and walk with you everyday as we do now…” Her rant rang clear with emotion that Rhaenyra wasn't entirely used to seeing.
“We will.” Rhaenyra insisted, holding Vhaela's hands close to herself. As Vhaela began to shake her head again Rhaenyra tightened her grip, “I do not wish to be married anymore than you wish me to, you know this. None of it will change anything, they can try but we won't.”
Vhaela watched her closely, eyes glossy with emotion. She gently squeezed Rhaenyra's hands back, finding comfort in the touch. “We can not even stop a wedding,” Vhaela fought back another sad face with a light shrug and a passive smile, “how will we stop the changing of time?”
The answers they were searching for did not come that day, nor any day soon after.
Vhaela and Rhaenyra spent the last days they could in the garden and on their dragons, by each other's side all hours of the day.
But like all good things, slowly they're carefree days of girlhood in the keep were over. Alicent had been married, now Rhaenyra, Vhaela knew that she would be next and dread gripped her hand tightly everywhere she walked.
Nothing belonged to them anymore, and slowly they belonged to everything else.
Summer 115 AC…
When Vhaela had been called to her Uncle The King to speak, Alicent stood behind him with a still face the whole time. She never looked at Vhaela's face but she never lowered her head.
Viserys told his niece that she would be going to stay with her aunt Rhaenys in Hightide, he said that ‘Rhaenys would help teach her to be a respected lady and good wife’. Whether those things were true did not lighten the cold blue sinking feeling that hit her chest and settled in her stomach.
She blinked at the news, unable to fully process the decree. All she had ever known was the keep, she was born here, raised here. Her mind raced with every piece of her life she would be leaving behind, with no questions asked or opinions considered. Still she sat with a plain expression, glancing down at the grey floor to shield her glossy eyes from the light.
It had been Otto Hightower's idea, whispered to Alicent, who whispered it to Viserys. Ser Hightower had begun to suspect Rhaenyra and Vhaela's closeness could act as some type of advantage to Rhaenyra in the future. He figured sending the girl away to her aunt would be a simple end to the matter.
Vhaela thanked her uncle and drifted back to her room in a husk like state. She kept her eyes forward and focused on nothing, even as she closed her bedroom door behind her and plopped down on her bed.
Finally the tears came, she smushed her face into her pillow, perhaps attempting to suffocate the impending truth.
She would be leaving, cast away. She cried, though she felt she couldn't entirely blame her uncle, he hadn't asked to be her parent all these years. Still she found her heart aching desperately for something to blame. Then suddenly an idea struck her and she slowly rose, face a bit red and puffy.
Surely this was something to do with marriage, she couldn't quite piece it together but she was sure. First her uncle had married Alicent, then married Rhaenyra off to Vhaela's own cousin Laenor, surely this-
Her train of thought switched to Rhaenyra as she sat there wiping her stuffy nose. Did she know? What would she tell her, how would she feel? Would she even miss me?
The last thought briefly crossed her mind as she pictured Rhaenyra with her new little baby Jacaerys, floating around the court like social little butterflies.
Vhaela's face scrunched up as she let out a frustrated scream, tears more angry began to stream down her face again as she slammed the pillow in her lap down.
Of course she would? She tried to shake the doubt from her mind. They spent all their time together, well nearly. Rhaenyra was a little busier with court and her new family but still they cared about each other deeply.
As sadness settled back into her chest she sighed, releasing her tight grip on the pillow. She didn't want to think about all this. She didn't want to think about anything. She knew where she would go…
The evening air was cool and breezy against Vhaela's skin as she slipped down into the dragon den, where she was suddenly engulfed in a thick familiar musk.
She stepped forward quietly on the crumbly path, “Jaenara, Māzīs.” Her quiet voice traveled on the hollow air into the darkness. A moment later the large brawny white dragon stepped forward.
Vhaela climbed atop her thorny beast with much more ease and grace than when she was a little girl. The two of them lifted into the air with a heavy push, soaring out of the dragon pit.
They cut through the wind with force so intense, Vhaela momentarily cursed herself for disregarding her saddle. No matter, she thought. It would only be a quick ride, and she had no doubt in her dragon.
The sky looked as if someone had lit it on fire, burning with violent reds and oranges. Bright strings of gold peaked around the water illuminating the sky for a few minutes longer.
Vhaela leaned forward, holding tightly to Jaenara's horns for balance and urging her to go faster.
The air was sharp and loud all around them, as it roared Vhaela felt it shake her chest drowning the breaking sound inside, her thoughts painted dramatically.
As they soared and danced through the vibrant sky, all Vhaela could focus on were the butterflies in her stomach and staying on Jaenara. Her worries blowing far behind them for a little while.
The sky slowly became more and more engulfed in deep purples and blues as night took over.
Jaenara's pale body that had once been shining faded pink from the sunset now began to glow ghostly white in the moon.
They had begun to slow down some, flying only fifty or so feet above the water. Vhaela looked closely at her dragons' pearlescent scales, the way they shifted in the light felt soft and familiar on her brain.
Her eyes drifted to the deep dark water below, the ripples glistening like a mirror of the sky above. She felt a small, deep, cold feeling in her heart as she stared at the waves.
It was cool and gentle, and her mind suddenly drifted to her mother. She didn't think of Princess Laedella very often, sometimes briefly when she woke in the night with an empty feeling, or when she had her first blood.
Yet, her mother came to her now. As she flew solemnly through the night, and over the vast sea. For just a moment a thought flickered through the young Targaryen's mind. If she plummeted to the sea like her mother, swallowed by the darkness…away from a fate neither could escape?
The deep swallowing feeling continued to weigh the two of them down closer to the water, until a low solemn groan rumbled from Jaenara's throat. Vhaela was shaken from her thoughts and her trance, she brushed the side of her beast's head affectionately “Vēzot.” She spoke, the two of them flew higher again and kept their relaxed pace.
Vhaela sighed lightly as she closed her eyes to feel the small pricks of night air and soak up the moonlight before she returned.
Vhaela did return to the castle that night, quiet and unharmed. She avoided the few staff and guards in the hall, and spent the first half of the next day avoiding most everyone as well. She collected a few things together, small decorations around her room. Viserys had said maids would put all her belongings together in time, but she felt like looking at all her things in their place one last time.
It was around half way through the day when Rhaenyra must have heard the news. She had let an attendant hold Jace while she burst into her father's quarters. She argued and protested, raising her voice a bit more than appropriate for the King.
Viserys just shook her away like a child throwing a tantrum, reassuring that this was best for Vhaela and only temporary. Rhaenys was a respected member of the royal family and courtier, and this move may even make an easier transition for Vhaela to marry a lord from Driftmark, perhaps even Rhaenys youngest son.
His answers only made Rhaenyra more angry, she rushed through the halls to Vhaela's room instead.
The heavy wood door hit the wall with a loud smack causing Vhaela to jump a little as she looked up.
“Were you going to tell me?” The silver haired princess exclaimed in a snappy tone, throwing the door shut loudly once again.
Vhaela blinked, for a moment her mind went blank with possibilities of what she could have possibly not told her. Then the answer settled in her mind coated in dread and frustration.
“Of my exile to Driftmark? Yes of course, I only just found out…” she sighed letting the shawls she was sorting slip from her hands.
Rhaenyra scoffed slightly, before crashing down across from Vhaela on the bed, “My father said he told you after dinner, why didn't you come to me right away?” her eyes searched all over Vhaela's face until they made eye contact.
Vhaela shrugged slightly, “I couldn't think, I needed to be alone…” she mumbled.
Rhaenyra's hand covered Vhaela's causing her to glance down where their skin met. “Next time come to me. You can be alone with me.”
A small smile pressed onto Vhaela's face as she suppressed a chuckle, “that's not how it works.”
“I can not believe my father, how could he do this?” Rhaenyra scowled, “This- this is some type of scheme, I know it is!” Her frustration was beginning to build again.
Vhaela squeezed her hand, “A scheme, or maybe a nightmare.” She joked solemnly. “But it's what's happening, the maids came to help with my things earlier. I told them to make sure I had all of Jaenara's things and come back later…I was hoping a sudden case of fever would take me before they returned.”
Rhaenyra couldn't help but laugh at her cousin's playful gruesomeness, “don't say that. I can't stand losing you this way, how would I live if you were truly gone?”
Light pink dusted Vhaela's face as she shook her head, perhaps to distract them both.
“We could leave… We will leave, on Syrax and Jaenara. Just me, and you, and Jace we can raise him far away and be distant queens-” Rhaenyra's eyes were wild as she rambled.
Vhaela's own eyes widened in response to Rhaenyra’s words, “Nyra you're just talking silly.” She lightly pushed the other girl away, smiling still.
“I'm not, I mean it!” She protested, not letting Vhaela fling their hands apart.
“You mean to leave all the comforts of your palace and court?” Vhaela raised a lighthearted brow.
She merely rolled her eyes, “we could find another, abandoned lands or not we have our dragons…”
Vhaela snorted out a laugh at this, “My mistake, you're talking crazy.”
Rhaenyra let out a huff of air, turning her head to face the large window.
The two girls sat in silence, wrapped in an impossible situation.
Vhaela eventually shifted in her place, “It's only temporary…” she reassured Rhaenyra and herself.
The young princess scowled slightly though her eyes stayed soft on Vhaela's face, “don't talk like that, next you'll be saying it's just a wedding…”
Vhaela couldn't help the frown on her face, “I don't want to ever get married.”
Rhaenyra had begun to fiddle with the top layer of Vhaela's skirt, staring disgruntledly at the fabric.
“I don't want you to leave at all…” She grumbled. “You won't forget about me all the way in Hightide?” A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she glanced up at her.
Vhaela felt warmth return to her face and chest as she smiled slightly in turn, “Of course not.” She spoke with an underlying sense of urgency. “I couldn't forget you, I'll think of you everyday and wish to be returned here.” She reassured.
Rhaenyra smiled fully now, lacing both their hands together, “and you'll come back to me just as you are, always right?”
Her heart began to pick up in pace for some reason as she nodded, “yes.” They stared at each other for a moment longer before Vhaela cast her eyes back to her bed, back to the shawls she had been sorting, and the new life she was dreading. “Want to help me pack?”
Rhaenyra cocked her head and raised both brows playfully, “ah, I see I've transformed into your maid.”
Vhaela rolled her eyes and shoved her away, and Rhaenyra dramatically sprawled out on her back on the bed.
The two girls spent the afternoon clinging to their last moments of closeness, packing things here and there. They didn't speak of the move again, instead focusing on little nicknacks they found and a thousand stories from their days together.
A week from that day Vhaela was sent away to her new life in Driftmark, Rhaenyra wished her goodbye at the dock, as did her uncle Viserys. Even Alicent stood by the king to say goodbye, though it was short.
And so a sudden underwhelming end cast over Vhaela's childhood, leaving her with a dull sense of uncertainty.
It was late in the year 100 AC, on the darkest day of the turn, another Targaryen baby was born in kings landing. Hair as white as the flurries raging outside the castle, she was born to Prince Daemon Targaryen and his first wife Laedella.
Her name would be Lady Vhaela, of house Targaryen. Her birth was noted as quiet, both her mother handling the pain well and Vhaela crying for only a short while.
The beginning of her life was marked by the loss of her mother, when Vhaela was only a year old her mother began to display symptoms of the greyscale disease. The princess Laedella, had to say heart breaking goodbyes before being sent to a small hall on a rocky island across the sea to live out the remainder of her days.
The princess was cared for dutifully by Septas, though in the last days of her life when her movement was becoming limited she flung herself from the cliff edge into the ocean below.
The tragedy struck the court harshly, as did the gossip. Luckily Vhaela was too young to remember any of that.
In fact Vhaela had no memories of her mother, her mothers sister Rhaenys and her father Daemon were the only figures who occasionally filled in the gaps. Though in early life she hardly had any memories of her father either.
Prince Daemon led a very extraordinary life of his own, spending much of his time away from kings landing where his daughter remained in the care of his brother the king's attendants.
She saw him still, whenever he was in the keep he would shower her with small gifts or tell her and her cousin stories.
Vhaela was close with her cousin Rhaenyra despite being three years younger. They spent their everyday together when they were children, being raised and doted on by the court.
When Rhaenyra would cheer for Daemon's stories or return, Vhaela found herself feeling as though Daemon was no more than an uncle to either of them.
It was shortly after her mothers death that the round pale egg in her cradle began to hatch. The dragon Jaenara was stout, a bit short as a hatchling and adorned in many ivory horns. Her scales were pale like clouds and thick. As she grew she gained some length but remained a brawny beast.
Vhaela and Jaenara mirrored each other with quiet, watchful personalities, and the young Targaryen enjoyed flying from a very early age.
Summer of 107 AC…
“Come on!” The young Princess Rhaenyra laughed running down the stoney path, hand in hand with her cousin.
Vhaela smiled and pushed to match her pace, they had one place in mind. They continued to descend the hill, into the vast dragon pit below. Vhaela was worried about sneaking away from the castle against her uncle Viserys rules but Rhaenyra always found a way of convincing the braveness out of her.
When they came down into the dark humid cavern, dust and debris shifted in the light around them.
It smelled like earth and sulfur, a dampness sticking to their skin before soon hardening out.
Vhaela breathed out a breath of nervous excitement, she had rode before but only a few times and sneaking around made her heart race.
Rhaenyra released her cousin's hand and stepped out towards the shadowed cave, “Māzīs, Syrax.” She called out in a whisper voice her old valyrian new in her mouth, a grumbling could be heard along with movement before Syrax’s golden body came into view from the darkness.
Vhaela heard a shift from the murk and a small smile found her face, “Ēlīs Jaenara.” She stuck out her hand towards nothing and soon Jaenara’s head came to rest against it. “Lykirī.” She cooed her companion. She watched as her cousin pet and spoke to her own dragon before they both began to mount the creatures.
The fairly large sets of horns on Jaenara's head made helpful handles for short rides, but Rhaenyra always preferred they used saddles.
“Vhaela,” Rhaenyra's voice had the slight bossy tone of the future heir to the throne. “Get your saddle.”
The older girl got onto her dragon at a much quicker and more fluid pace. Despite still being young and new to dragon riding herself, she had a few years of confidence and experience on her cousin.
Vhaela climbed on top of her beast as well, it was a bit more of a struggle combined with the young royals inexperience and the dragons bulky, spikey build. Jaenara let out a sleepy morning huff through her nose as Vhaela climbed on and the two began to follow after Rhaenyra and Syrax.
Riding a dragon while it walked was far rockier than a horse Vhaela always thought, but as they began to leave the ground no feeling could compare.
Heavy gusts of wind pushed beneath Jaenara's thick wings, soaring them up into the blue sky.
Vhaela’s face broke into a happy grin as they spun and sailed through the wind.
She spotted Rhaenyra on Syrax's glistening gold back and urged them forward to catch up. The two magical creatures flew around each other in a beautiful dance while Vhaela and Rhaenyra laughed loudly. Jaenara continued to push them upwards disappearing into the clouds with her natural camouflage. Up, up, up they continued to go, the sharp wind prickled Vhaela's face.
The young Targaryen didn't need to speak as they reached the peak of their height, the dragon suddenly stalled and for a small moment they were floating alongside the wispy clouds as if they weighed nothing.
Jaenara made a graceful dive straight down back through the clouds, barreling towards the sea below.
A cheerful scream came from Vhaela as they plummeted towards the earth. Twirling rapidly like a torpedo, despite Jaenara's bulky build she was still becoming a very skilled flyer. As they came within a few hundred feet of the waves she stuck out her massive wings, stopping their descent and allowing them to glide lower than before.
Vhaela's mind was racing with no thoughts in particular, just adrenaline. This was the feeling she was alive for.
“What was that!” Rhaenyra called out excitedly flying low with Syrax.
“I don't know!” Blood was still pumping rapidly, shaking her voice.
After a little while longer of flying Rhaenyra swooped in near Vhaela again, “race you back!”
The two dragons barreled through the sky neck in neck, pushing themselves and their young riders through the wind at impossible speeds. Vhaela's stomach felt light as it rose and fell over and over again.
In the end Rhaenyra won that race and the two girls snuck back towards the castle with crazy, wind swept hair and giddy hearts.
When the two young royals made it back into the red keep they thought perhaps no one had seen them leave the dragonpit on the backs of their dragons. That was not the case of course.
“Ahem.” Someone cleared their throat from behind them in the hall. The two of them winced and slowly turned to face their captor.
“Ladies,” Ser Lyonel Strong spoke in his usual stoic voice. “Where are we coming from?” He raised one bushy brow.
Ser Strong was fairly new to court only joining a year or two ago but he seemed to be a smart man, certainly smart enough to know if they were lying.
Vhaela glanced at Rhaenyra who naturally answered first, “just the garden.” The young Princess smiled sweetly.
He glanced between them plainly, “the garden eh?”
They both nodded, Vhaela a bit more eagerly.
“Does this garden have dragons perhaps?”
Vhaela's eyes opened wide as she tried to keep her cool.
“Why w-” Rhaenyra was cut off as Ser Strong raised his hand.
“Gold and white dragons were seen flying over Blackwater bay, that couldn't be different gold and white dragons could it?” A small knowing smirk found his face though he fought to remain neutral.
Vhaela's mouth hung open and closed like a fish for a moment, she couldn't think of any words to say.
“We…we were just-” Rhaenyra continued to try to maneuver them out of this though the small Vhaela saw no hope.
“I think we better take it to your father.” He said before moving past the two girls and beckoning them to follow.
Vhaela treaded nervously behind, step in step with her cousin who seemed far less worried.
When they found King Viserys he was monotonously chatting to one of his attendants, when he saw his daughter and niece approaching with their tails between their legs and Ser Strong leading them he quickly shooed the attendant away.
“What is it?” He asked, a small smile peaking out of the corner of his lips.
“Your highness, these two were spotted over blackwater bay on dragon back. Without escorts, and without your permission I assume.” Ser Strong raised a brow as he glanced back at the girls.
Vhaela glanced down at the stone floor wishing it would swallow her whole.
The smile disappeared from Viserys' face as he stood from his seat and approached them. “Tch, tch tch.” He clicked his tongue, his eyes bore into his daughter's determined face and his niece's more nervous one. He shook his head before raising his hand to dismiss Ser Strong, “thank you Lyonel.”
He stepped closer until he was right in front of the two girls, “I am very disappointed, Rhaenyra, you know of the eyes that watch our every move. Any sign that we cannot control two members of our house or two dragons is a sign of weakness.” He spoke firmly though didn't seem very upset.
Both girls nodded before he continued, “Vhaela, your father trusted me to care for you while he's away. How would he feel if you slipped from Jaenara's back into the sea, never to be seen again?”
Vhaela's eyes widened as the idea crossed her mind, surely her father would be sad he didn't get to say goodbye?
“It was my idea father, not Vhaela.” Rhaenyra spoke, defending her cousin.
“I know, and I expect better from you Rhaenyra as the future of this kingdom. But Vhaela is her own person, she makes her own choices.” He glanced between the two silver haired girls, a small smile finding his face once again. “Go, off to your rooms now.”
A small sigh of relief left them as they quickly turned to scurry down the hall.
“Extra guards will be posted at the dragonpit until further notice, I pray you don't give me reason to post them at your rooms.” He raised a stern but playful brow.
That night as the young Targaryen sat in her room surrounded by a pool of moonlight in her large royal bed, she gazed up at the dark ceiling, a sense of loneliness coming over the child. A small seed only, but it blossomed and grew small painful branches in her heart.
She wasn't sure exactly what she was aching for as she let her wide violet eyes drift to the starry sky out of the window. She couldn't escape this feeling. Instead she bunched up all her extra quilts and blankets and squeezes them tight to her chest, eventually drifting off to sleep.
Vhaela spent many of her days causing small mischief in the castle with her cousin when they were very young and as they continued to grow, politics surrounded their lives. Rhaenyra trained rigorously to one day rule from the iron throne and Vhaela stayed ever watchful in court. Her quiet personality often being mistaken for shy or thoughtless, she would grow to make an excellent source of information.
While the two were still fairly young, their lives constantly sprinkled with stress they often found their only comfort and leisure with each other.
When a young high tower girl came to join the court with her father she joined their little group quickly. Vhaela looked up to her cousin quite a bit and at first she found this Oldtown girl intriguing as well. But the more Rhaenyra's attention grew towards Alicent Hightower, the more drips of jealousy mixed into Vhaela's friendship.
Summer of 112 AC…
In the dim corridors of the young heir to the throne, Vhaela sat on her knees near the fireplace quietly watching her cousin pace.
Rhaenyra ran a hand through her silvery hair, “and Ser Hightower! Always whispering in my father's ear, oh he's has much wealth your grace, he's got a strong title your grace, he'd make a good husband for the princess your grace.” she mocked Ser Hightower in a childish tone.
A small smile set on Vhaela's face as she shook her head, “they just seek some control on you…and your dragon.” A small breath of laughter left her chest.
Rhaenyra marched over to where Vhaela sat and crashed down onto the floor as well, invading her personal space.
“They want to clip my wings.” The young Princess feigned she might faint, playfully resting her head against Vhaela's shoulder.
When the two faced each other again Rhaenyra had a spoiled pout, "I'll always have you though cousin.” She gripped Vhaela's hand lightly, “and if the court becomes too much we'll simply have to burn them all.” Rhaenyra giggled.
Vhaela's eyes widened at her words as she laughed in suit, warmth spreading across her face.
“Maybe we could just fly away?” Vhaela joked as well, offering a less bloody option.
“And leave the comfort of our castle to them? I don't think so.” Rhaenyra stuck out her chin in a proud manner. The night flowed on in close chatter, temporarily sheltered from the world and court around them.
The next day Vhaela found herself sitting in the gardens under the shade of a large elderly tree. The carved stone was cool pressed against the fabric of her dress as she sat with a small basket of dark berries in her lap.
Very quickly Rhaenyra had joined her, swinging her legs over Vhaela's pale violet dress. The younger girl adjusted herself so she could set the berries on top of them both.
They fell into easy conversation, sharing the light snack. There were few berries left that Vhaela liked at this time of year, luckily the castle accommodated the young royals very well.
“We should take Syrax and Jaenara out today, over Blackwater Bay.” Rhaenyra hummed, popping another berry in her mouth.
Vhaela's face lit up slightly as she gazed at her cousin, “yea?”
“Mhm.” Rhaenyra nodded, “lets see how far we can get, just me and you, no lords, no courts, no -”
They're conversation was suddenly cut short by a familiar practiced voice.
“Princess, Lady Vhaela, good morning.” Alicent nodded politely at the two girls.
Both Targaryens' eyes moved to the Hightower girl, Vhaela offering a small smile. She had wanted to be Alicent's friend desperately at first, and the girl from Oldtown was kind to her, but her friendship was reserved for Rhaenyra. Now Vhaela mostly found herself wanting to snatch her cousin away from their new peer.
“Morning.” Rhaenyra spoke lazily, wrinkling her nose.
“Your father said, you missed your lessons?” Alicent prompted, folding her hands neatly in front of her. “I brought your books from today's lesson, I could read you a few passages if you'd like?”
At this Rhaenyra's ears perked up and she moved her legs from Vhaela's lap to make room on the bench.
Alicent took a seat in-between them and Vhaela felt the absence of Rhaenyra as she pushed more towards the edge of the bench.
A rapid tight feeling began to build in her chest that she couldn't quite express. She gripped the basket of berries tightly, her appetite had vanished for the moment as she stared at the grass in front of her feet.
“Would you like to hear some Vhaela?” Alicent turned her body to include her a bit more. “This passage is a bit advanced but I'm sure I can explain it.”
The back of Vhaela's throat ached as she swallowed her somewhat bitter thoughts, “no that's alright, I'm going to go get my stitches from my room.” She said standing and setting the berries in her seat.
Rhaenyra's head snapped up at this, “Stay Vhaela, she hasn't even gotten to the dragons yet.” She said though it sounded more like a command.
Vhaela hesitated, she usually caved quite easily. As she watched Alicent and Rhaenyra sit closely on the stone bench however, she shook her head.
“I'll be back, I'm just going to grab my stitching.” She said whirling around before more could be said and making her way towards the halls. She would not be back, nor was she fetching her embroidery. In truth she wanted to run somewhere she could be completely alone.
She thought maybe she would go see Jaenara on her own, as she made her way down the stony halls she heard the rustling of servants and court members alike rushing through the halls.
She peaked her head around the corner, following the noise with her eyes.
“Lady Vhaela?” A voice chirped up behind her.
She jumped slightly before turning to face a lady of the court whose name she had not memorized.
“Where are they going?” Vhaela asked in her usual soft voice.
“To the throne room your grace, I've been looking for you. Your father is here.” The woman spoke with just a hint of urgency as she ushered Vhaela towards the throne room as well.
The girl's heart hammered slightly against her chest at the sudden news. She placed quickly behind the woman, careful not to run and repeatedly smoothing out her dress.
She wondered what her father was doing here? Just passing by surely, but for how long? Where had he been just before he came?
The last time she had seen him was almost a year and a half ago. It was common for her to go months without seeing him, but this gap left her feeling anxious at his return.
This hallway seemed to stretch on forever, prolonging her father's presence indefinitely it seemed.
When they did come to the throne room and the court woman opened the door and stepped through Vhaela hesitated for a moment in the doorway.
“Well come on child, don't stop now.” The lady lightly pestered, likely eager to see the rouge prince herself. She guided Vhaela into the room where a small crowd gathered in the center, greeting her father.
Alicent and Rhaenyra entered the room shortly after, clearly buzzing with curiosity.
Vhaela stepped forward with the woman, her feet suddenly feeling heavy as they approached the chattering men.
Daemon was greeting his brother, and a few members of the court. As she came through the parting crowd she caught a few glimpses of her father, short hair that was different than she remembered, and stoney posture that made him a bit intimidating.
When she was placed directly in front of him, his conversation cut short. His eyes fell down to her face, a mix of excitement and anxiety that was covered well by her sweet expression.
Vhaela felt the quiet shift in the room and suddenly felt a bit awkward.
“Vhaela.” Daemon offered a small smile.
“Father,” Vhaela stuck her chin up some, smiling slightly in return. “Welcome back.”
“Didn't forget your father's face yet?” He joked slightly, earning a grumbled laugh from king Viserys and a few copy cat laughs from the court.
Rhaenyra had skipped up to Vhaela's side now, nearly jumping with excitement. Alicent trailing quietly behind with a polite smile as well.
“Uncle!” Rhaenyra beamed, “we've been awaiting your return.”
Daemon smiled and stepped back to face both girls, “well stop your waiting around, I have gifts.”
The court had begun to disperse back to business, Viserys wandering across the room as he chatted to his advisor.
Rhaenyra rocked slightly on her heels in anticipation while Daemon reached into his bag. As he pulled out two items, something wrapped in a deep sapphire cloth and something in a small wood carved box, Vhaela's eyes widened just slightly.
“Rhaenyra,” Daemon passed her the cloth before turning to his daughter. “Vhaela.”
Vhaela opened the delicate wood box to reveal a stunning intricate golden necklace with three small pretty pink stones nestled together.
It was gorgeous, not entirely personal but what young royal doesn't like sparkly jewels?
“Thank you Father,” Vhaela appreciated the gesture deeply, happy that she had crossed his mind on his undoubtedly far more exciting adventures.
“Wow! This is gorgeous!” Rhaenyra exclaimed from beside her, revealing a small beautiful dagger with a small dragon welded around the handle.
“Now that's just for decoration.” Daemon winked playfully, earning a giggle from all the girls. Rhaenyra proudly showed off her new gift to Alicent beside her.
“I hope you like it Vhaela.” Her father spoke directly to her again.
"I love it, thank you father it's beautiful.” Vhaela smiled softly up at the man, expressing her gratitude.
As Daemon's eyes brushed over his daughter's face, he nearly flinched as they caught on her soft smile, hardly crinkling the corners of her eyes.
A smile that belonged entirely to the ghost of his first wife.
He fought the slight shiver threatening his spine, offering her a short smile and nod before quickly turning his attention to Rhaenyra.
Vhaela had seen a small flicker of something unreadable on his face, but didn't have time to really look.
“I suppose you'll want me to tell you girls about the blood soaked battles Caraxes and I rained down upon?” Her father amped up his tail as he began to stroll confidently. Rhaenyra skipped enthusiastically by his side, Alicent close behind her though less giddy.
Vhaela stood still for a moment, watching their figures retreat in the hall. She knew if she wanted to go with them, she only had to follow, and she should.
Still her feet seemed stuck in place on the cold stone floor. She clutched the small box against her dress as her mind raced with half thoughts.
Perhaps if she had been more excited about her gift? Then it would be her skipping by Daemon's side as he told outrageous stories.
She shook the ideas away and adjusted herself slightly before slowly making her way down the hall to find where they had gone.
That evening a small banquet was held for Prince Daemon’s return, Vhaela rang her hands together in front of her as she made her way down the stairs. She picked out a pale dress with a few delicate stones embroidered, pairing it with the new necklace her father gave her.
“Vhaela, there you are!” Rhaenyra rushed to her side as she came around the corner.
“Here I am,” Vhaela smiled slightly, allowing her cousin to link their arms. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing,” Rhaenyra shrugged as they approached the grand hall where the feast was taking place. “I'd just rather walk with you.”
Soft warmth bloomed across Vhaela's face and inside her chest as they entered the room and she didn't have a chance to speak. The two girls were quickly bombarded with court members and visitors, eventually speaking with Rhaenyra's father and Ser Hightower.
Of course Alicent came with them after that, Vhaela didn't mind so much. Rhaenyra certainly didn't mind at all, linking her two favorites on either arm as they strolled through the gathering greeting guests.
The room was heavy with the musk of candles and hot meats, incense burned high on the walls to mask the smell of moving bodies, and a cheery tune played from deeper in the room.
Daemon was late it seemed, to his own welcoming banquet. Vhaela found herself occasionally glancing to the entrance, anticipating the sight of his chopped silver hair.
Vhaela, Rhaenyra, and Alicent had got caught in a very boring conversation with a large noble about shipments and gold. Neither thing interested Vhaela very much and her attention began to wander the room aimlessly, hearing small snippets of the dull conversation.
Suddenly, people began to whisper. A few small gasps were heard and everyone's body shifted towards the entrance, naturally Vhaela did as well.
There stood her father looking every part the Rogue Prince, people quickly swarmed him as he entered. Vhaela waited patiently for her turn, the same sense of anxiety and excitement building from before.
“I'm going to get us some wine.” Rhaenyra grinned, leaning close to inform her of her plan before slipping away towards the table with wine.
Vhaela glanced at Alicent who gave her an almost awkward but friendly smile.
Vhaela's mind raced with something to say, “Lots of fine suiters here tonight…?” She offered, folding her hands as she began to regret starting the conversation.
Alicent seemed to hesitate for a moment before nodding politely.
Vhaela nodded as well, letting out a small sigh as she glanced around the room again and back towards her father who was slowly crossing the room.
“Not really…” she mumbled, bringing her attention back to the conversation she created. “Most of them are a bit old and fat.”
A surprised laugh escaped Alicent at the young Targaryen’s bluntness, even though they weren't in court they were still surrounded by many people, members of the court at that.
A smile spread across her face as she watched Alicent laugh, even though the auburn haired girl covered it up quickly.
“Vhaela,” Daemon suddenly spoke from beside her.
Her eyes widened as she turned to face him, she didn't think he heard anything she said but still he startled her.
“Father.” She chirped, instinctively running her hands down her dress.
“You look very nice.” He said, patting her shoulder just a bit awkwardly.
“Thank you.” She smiled, sticking her head up high, and showing off the necklace he had just gifted her.
“Are you enjoying your banquet Uncle?” Rhaenyra asked cheerfully as she stepped back in beside them, handing Vhaela a cup of spiced wine.
“It's quite enjoyable, I'll have to remember to thank your father.” He nodded with an invisible smile.
Vhaela sipped the wine her cousin brought her as she watched the conversation flow on.
“Giving my daughter wine, are we Rhaenyra?” Daemon quirked a brow, teasing the young girls lightly.
Vhaela felt a bit embarrassed, unused to this light banter and buried her face deeper in the large chalice.
“Yes, and she can drink whatever she likes.” Rhaenyra said confidently, before taking a sip of her own wine.
Daemon eyed the cousins, before focusing on his daughter. “Is that right?”
Vhaela gulped, throat burning as she nearly choked on the wine. She hesitated for a moment, briefly glancing at Rhaenyra before looking back up at her father. She nodded somewhat convincingly, causing a small smile to press into his face.
Daemon spent some more time in the castle that year, but as always returned to the sky on the back of Caraxes. Vhaela watched from the courtyard with a strange feeling in her chest, like dropping a pretty stone back into the sea knowing it was never yours to hold onto for long.
The days only grew more tense with politics and marriages. Over the next two or so years time for leisurely flights or talks in the garden slowly dwindled.
Alicent had married King Viserys, shocking Vhaela and wounding her relationship with Princess Rhaenyra deeply. Vhaela didn't mind that part entirely, now having her cousin mostly back to herself, though she didn't like the tension throughout the palace. The young Hightower girl quickly began having children causing tension in court as well, for now it could be over looked.
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