Chapter Text
When Vaella Targaryen was five years old, she woke up screaming in the middle of the night and didn’t stop for hours. The guard assigned to the princess, Ser Steffon Darklyn, had rushed into her room expecting to see an assassin, for the girl’s screams were so terrified and pained. When he realized she had only had a nightmare, he immediately sent for the King and Queen, who both rushed to their daughter’s side. At some point, both Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra were drawn to her side as well. Vaella refused to talk about what she had dreamed about, and the incident was soon forgotten.
At the age of sixteen, Vaella has only ever told one person what had awoken her that night. After all, how does one explain that they have witnessed a future that holds the downfall of dragons?
Vaella Dreamed of her elder sister being burned alive by their younger half brother’s dragon. Of the Hightowers slowly overtaking the Keep and her father standing by, allowing it to happen. Of Daemon and Laena, of Rhaenyra and Laenor and Harwin. Of Daemon and Rhaenyra. She saw her mother butchered, her muna eaten by Vhagar, Laena burning herself alive, Daemon plunging to his death.
At five years old, Vaella witnessed the fall of their house and the death of her family.
It was odd though, she never saw herself in her Dream. She didn’t know why, and had simply accepted that it simply was, but even at five years old, Vaella was determined to change it. She began studying everything she could possibly get her hands on. Politics, history, trade, battle strategy, economics -- if there was a book on it in the Red Keep, Vaella got her hands on it.
Her studies, however, were not limited to that which you could only find in books. At age seven, Vaella demanded her uncle, Daemon Targaryen, teach her how to wield a sword during one of his brief stints where he wasn’t banished. He agreed readily. It was why Vaella had sought him out. Her uncle was proud of their Valyrian heritage, and would not deny her simply because she was a girl. He wielded Queen Visenya’s blade and his own mother was skilled at swordplay. Of course, he was once again banished by her father a few months later - for what, she can’t recall anymore - but he arranged for Vaella to continue her lessons with Ser Steffon Darklyn before leaving once again. Nine years later, Vaella is almost as good as Daemon at sword fighting.
At seven years old, the same year she began learning to wield a blade, Vaella was single mindedly focused on yet another task. The year prior, her elder sister Rhaenyra had become the youngest dragon rider in history when she mounted her dragon Syrax, who had hatched in her cradle. Unlike her sister, Vaella’s egg had grown cold, but she was determined to claim a dragon all the same.
She awoke one morning, dressed in the riding leathers Daemon had gotten her for her birthday, and slipped into the passages she had seen her sister and uncle use in her Dream. The sun was just beginning to rise and bathe King’s Landing in the glow of dawn when Vaella arrived at the Dragonpit. There were few keepers around so early in the mornings, and so Vaella easily crept further into the Pit without detection. It is a memory that will always remain with her. There was a pull at her navel, guiding her through the tunnels even without the light of a torch to guide her, when she finally arrived at a nest holding the largest dragon housed in King’s Landing at the moment.
Dreamfyre.
The she-dragon had only belonged to one other person in her life, her great aunt Rhaena Targaryen, the eldest daughter of King Aenys Targaryen and Queen Alyssa Velaryon. She was a slender dragon with blue and silver scales. Vaella stood in wonder before her. Moments later, she caused a fright for the few Dragonkeepers awake in the pit as she emerged on the she-dragon and immediately took to the skies, laughing all the while.
She would remember it fondly as one of the best days of her life
It is this memory of Dreamfyre that Vaella is reminiscing about as the two approach King’s Landing. Her ladies in waiting had departed days earlier in order to prepare everything for her arrival, and Vaella had dragged out the moments until she was forced to leave Driftmark.
King’s Landing was truly an awful city.
Every time Vaella was forced to come to the capital, she complained incessantly to Rhaenyra about it. She had grown used to Driftmark in the five years she spent fostered with the Velaryons, with its salty air and bustling shipyards. In comparison, King’s Landing was too crowded and smelled something awful. Besides, Vaella was always pestered to chain Dreamfyre up when they were in the city, something she refused to do. A dragon is not a slave.
In truth, the only things Vaella was looking forward to during this visit were seeing her sister, mother, and perhaps her uncle. She and Rhaenyra frequently met up on flights during the years they spent apart, but it was still nice to be able to spend time with her and live in the same keep as her again.
Besides, this was when Otto Hightower made his first move in her Dream. There was no way in the seven hells that she wouldn’t be there when the game was set in motion.
So far, Vaella had only been able to make minor changes. For one, Rhaenyra wasn’t isolated with only the Hightower girl, Alicent, as a lady in waiting. She was the firstborn child of the King and Queen, and some subtle manipulation on Vaella’s part had made sure that her household was treated as such. Rhaenyra would not be ignored as long as Vaella had anything to say about it. She had also made sure that Princess Rhaenys had helped Rhaenyra in picking out who would be joining her ladies in waiting, as their mother had been indisposed with another pregnancy at the time. In the end six girls, besides Alicent Hightower, had been chosen. All had been thoroughly vetted and came from a variety of different kingdoms. Jeyne Westerling from the Westerlands, Anaya Manderly from the North, Melantha Tully and Leonette Strong from the Riverlands, Delena Tyrell from the Reach, and Celesse Celtigar from the Crownlands.
Another change from her Dream was that their Velaryon family was more involved. It hadn’t really been anything Vaella did that influenced this change, but her father and mother had decided that she should be fostered with Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys in a show of goodwill between their houses. It had worked, as they came to the capital much more frequently than they had in the future Vaella had seen, which only left her with more questions. Did she simply not exist in the version of the future she saw? Had the gods placed her here to fix things? Her questions were met with silence.
Vaella is brought out of her musing as a shadow passes over her and a shout reaches her ears. Laena is grinning from her place on Vhagar as she swoops downward towards Laenor and Seasmoke before picking up speed and heading for the city. Rhaenys is surely behind them somewhere on Meleys.
“Aderi, Dreamfyre,” Vaella shouts, not one to be outdone by her cousins. She sees Laenor do the same to her left and a grin grows on her face as she presses herself closer to Dreamfyre’s scales, letting the wind rush past her. There is truly no feeling that comes anywhere close to flying, especially with her family surrounding her.
By the time Dreamfyre touches down in the Dragonpit, Vaella is grinning ear to ear and she is sure her intricate braids have loose hairs flying around her face.
“You lose once again, cousins,” she shouts as Laena lands a moment after her with Laenor following soon after. “I’m afraid your mounts are simply no match for my girl.”
Both her cousins are grinning as well, but Laenor pouts at her teasing.
“It’s not my fault that Seasmoke is so much smaller than you two’s dragons. He’s just a baby!”
“And Vhagar is still larger than Dreamfyre. It is no wonder she is a tad slower!”
The twins jump to their dragon’s defense, as they always do whenever Vaella wins in their races. Dreamfyre huffs as Vaella dismounts and slides down her side, the twins following suit.
“Glad to be back in good old King’s Landing, haedar?” Laenor asks as he slings an arm across her shoulders, a teasing grin on his face. The Velaryon twins were only a few moons older than Vaella, but it was a fact they never allowed her to forget.
“Oh yes,” Vaella answers with a huff, sarcasm dripping from her words. “I simply love this city so much I couldn’t stay away.” Laena snorts somewhere to her left. None of them particularly love the capital. She supposes that for the twins it was something they inherited from Rhaenys and Corlys, for even though Corlys was the Master of Ships and was required to periodically attend Council Meetings, he always bemoaned having to leave Driftmark in the days before his departure. Rhaenys’ poorly hidden amusement at her husband’s suffering has led to many hidden snickers between the three children at dinners.
“You are here to see your mother, Vaella, as much as you may dislike the city,” Rhaenys interjects, brushing off lingering dust from her riding leathers as she walks towards them, a bemused smirk lingering on her lips. “You three better run along and bathe before we have to present ourselves in court tonight. The smell of dragon clings to you.”
Laenor squawks at his mother’s jab while Laena and Vaella simply giggle at his indignant expressions as they make their way to the Red Keep.
Despite what Rhaenys said, Vaella does not immediately make her way to her chambers to take a bath. There are more important matters to attend to first. Primarily, seeing her older sister again. With that goal in mind, she weaves her way through the many secret passageways the Red Keep contains, lost in her thoughts.
She was not the only one that her mother’s imminent birth and the subsequent tourney her father was throwing would bring back to the capital. There would be numerous lords and common folk alike, crowding the already packed city. And of course, there was one person Vaella knew would be unable to resist the idea of a tourney.
Daemon Targaryen.
Her uncle went by many names - the Rogue Prince, Lord Flea Bottom, Prince of the City. There was never any question that he was well known and well feared wherever he went. He was quite possibly one of the most dangerous men in Westeros and he knew it.
He had always just been Daemon to Vaella though. Her uncle was her favorite person growing up. She had spent countless afternoons learning High Valyrian from him. He was the one who had told her stories about their family and of Old Valyria. He was the one who found her when she escaped her lessons as a child and the one to teach her to wield a sword. When her father was too busy for her - which was most of the time - and her mother was indisposed due to yet another pregnancy, it had been Daemon who Vaella had turned to. He was her constant companion for those first few years growing up.
“You are the second born child of a King,” he had told her, when she was only six years old. “And it is the duty of second born children to protect their older siblings, protect their family. Family is everything, byka zaldrizes.” There was always a camaraderie between the two of them - two second born children. As she got older, Vaella watched as Daemon gave her father everything. Family is everything , he had told her. It was a motto that her uncle never wavered from. He was undoubtedly loyal to their family above all else. And yet her father couldn’t see it. She watched as her uncle was pushed aside again and again in favor of the Hightower her father was entranced by until finally, Daemon was banished again.
She can’t even remember now what he did to earn the banishment that time, for it was probably something mundane, but it was the first time in her life that her uncle was suddenly gone and Vaella did not know what to do. She had screamed and cried when he left on the back of Caraxes, begging him not to go. Rhaenyra had been right beside her, doing the exact same thing. Daemon had been the only steadfast figure in their lives for as long as they could remember and suddenly he was gone. Forced out of their home by their very own father.
Later that night, when it was just Vaella and Rhaenyra, curled together in front of a dying fire, Vaella sat watching the shadows dance along the walls. She had always thought fire was entrancing. Finally, she turned to Rhaenyra, whose red rimmed eyes mirrored her own, and whispered to her in the language of their ancestors.
“Nyra,” Vaella’s voice was loud in the silence of her sister’s room. “Promise me we won’t be like father and uncle when we grow older. Promise me you won’t send me away.”
Her sister’s arms had tightened around her when she said that, but it was a fear that had taken in root in Vaella as she watched how her family interacted with each other. She had already Dreamed at this point, and knew she would do anything for Rhaenyra.
“I promise, Vae,” Rhaenyra has answered back fervently, the words like a prayer on her lips, even at only seven years old. “We are the blood of the dragon. We shall stick together.”
The two of them had kept that promise, the vows two children had exchanged in the crushing loneliness of the night. When it was announced that Vaella would be leaving to stay on Driftmark a year later, the two had vowed to fly to each other on dragon back. Gods save anyone who tried to separate two dragons.
Still, it had been almost eight moons since she had last seen Rhaenyra. The two of them had agreed that she would stay close to King’s Landing when their mother had announced she was once again pregnant. Rhaenyra always worried over Aemma during her pregnancies, and this one was no different. Vaella had been anticipating their reunion for weeks now.
Gently pushing the door to her sister’s room open, Vaella makes her way to where she knew Rhaenyra would most likely be.
“Vae!” Rhaenyra’s eyes light up when they land on her. Rhaenyra runs towards her and the next thing Vaella knows, she’s enveloped in the arms of her sister. She breathes in deeply, automatically relaxing in the familiar hold. “I thought you’d delay your arrival until the last moment.”
“Well, no one else knows we’ve arrived yet. You know how much I love to make a grand entrance.” Rhaenyra rolls her eyes at her sister’s response, pulling away slightly as her eyes roam over Vaella’s face.
“Yes, yes. I am well aware. You and Daemon share that particular trait.”
“Has he arrived yet? I doubt he’d be able to stay away from a tourney.”
“I haven’t seen him, not that that means much when it comes to Daemon. He’ll be here.” Vaella lets out a breath, knowing that Rhaenyra is right. Her and Daemon have a long list of similarities, which includes their tendencies to wait to reveal themselves until they absolutely must. It was simply so much easier to catch up on what was going on in the Red Keep when she didn’t have to worry about her father’s fleeting interest in her life. “I have to leave. There’s a meeting of the Small Council that I must attend. You should go see muna , though. I just came from her chambers.”
“How is she?” Vaella’s voice turns serious. The pregnancy had been coming along just fine the last she heard, but there were always other factors at play. Vaella had been waking up drenched in sweat for the past fortnight, nightmares of her mother’s death haunting the little sleep she managed to get.
“As well as expected,” Rhaenyra sighs. Vaella is intimately acquainted with her elder sister’s worry for their mother whenever she is carrying a child. “Everyone is just so focused on the babe. It seems like no one cares for muna’s health. Of course, whenever I try to bring it up with her or kepa they brush me aside.”
Vaella gently grasps Rhaenyra’s face in her own hands. Vaella strives to protect her from as much as she can, but this is one of the things she fears Rhaenyra won’t be shielded from.
“It is not your fault, mandia,” the words are said quietly, spoken under Vaella’s breath. There is no preparing Rhaenyra for what will most likely happen. It is times like these that Vaella feels the most helpless. “You are doing everything you can.”
“I know,” Rhaenyra answers, a brittle smile on her face. The two girls stand in silence for a moment longer, simply enjoying each other’s presence.
“Now you really must go. Whatever shall the lords do without someone to pour their wine for them?” Vaella teases and Rhaenyra lightly swats her arm.
“Oh shut up!” Rhaenyra leaves her chambers with a laugh and Vaella can hear her greet Ser Harrold Westerling, her sworn shield, before the door closes. Shaking her head, she makes her way back to the door she had used to enter the chambers. Ser Harrold was one of the oldest members of the Kingsguard and held a special fondness for the two girls, having been there for their entire lives. He was well accustomed to Vaella popping up out of nowhere, so the secret of her arrival was likely still safe for the moment.
The tunnels that Vaella now employs cover the entirety of the Red Keep, having been designed by Maegor the Cruel as not only a means of escape for the royal family, but also to spy on anyone who set foot in the keep. There was no record of how many tunnels there were or where they all lead. In fact, Vaella was quite certain the only people who knew about them were her, Daemon, Rhaenyra, Laena, and Laenor; and the only reason that the latter three were aware of their existence was because Vaella had shown them.
For all that Maegor is renowned as a vicious and cruel usurper, Vaella had to admit that the tunnels were an absolutely brilliant idea. At the moment, she was making her way to where the Small Council meeting would be held. It was always good to get an idea of what the lords had to say on any current issues firsthand, even if Rhaenyra or Corlys would happily inform her of whatever issue was discussed.
Vaella’s hand slides along the cold stone wall beside her, listening intently for any bit of gossip she might overhear from a maid or lady. Most of what she overhears is quite useless, the majority of people only speculating about who would be attending the tourney. So focused on overhearing what a trio of maids are saying - something about Otto wanting to bring his son Gwayne to King’s Landing - Vaella jumps when she feels the weight of a hand on her shoulder.
Even before she turns to greet him, Vaella is well aware of who has stumbled upon her and her habit of eavesdropping. The dim light of a torch casts long shadows in the corridor the two dragons find themselves in. Vaella looks up at the intruder with fire blazing in her eyes, the look of a true dragon, illuminated in the firelight.
If it had been painful to be separated from her sister for eight moons, it was nothing in comparison to the pain she had felt in her uncle’s absence. After all, it had been three years since Daemon Targaryen had last decided to grace their family with his presence.
Daemon looks down upon her in fond amusement. Vaella refuses to be the first one to break the silence they find themselves in.
“Rystas, tala,” Daemon’s low voice fills the corridor. “I had not expected to find you here.”
“I couldn’t very well stay on Driftmark with my mother due to give birth any day now, kepus,” she responds, purposefully avoiding the implied question in her uncle’s statement. He huffs a laugh at her obstinance.
“Mm, yes I suppose so.”
“I, however, am surprised to see you in the capital. You have not been to court in quite a while.”
“Well, I couldn’t stay away from a tourney held in my honor.”
“You are mistaken, kepus,” Vaella answers, a sharp grin playing across her lips. Her expression is more bared teeth than anything else. “My father is holding a tourney for his heir.”
“As I said.”
“His new heir. I am afraid you’re being replaced.”
“We shall see,” is his only response. “Until your mother gives birth to a boy, I’m afraid you all are stuck with me.”
“A terrible misfortune indeed.” Vaella’s dry tone draws a barking laugh from her uncle. It was always difficult not to fall back into their bantering, even when the ache of longing in her chest is only a breath away. A moment of silence passes between them, filled only by Daemon’s eyes trailing over her face.
“You have grown up, dear niece.”
“Yes, that does tend to happen when you don’t see someone for a few years,” Vaella replies, unwilling to forgive him so easily for his transgressions against her.
“Do not be cross with me, tala,” Daemon reaches into a pocket of the vest he is wearing. “I have brought you a gift.”
Light reflects off the shiny surface of a blade he is balancing on two fingers. The dagger he is holding is surely Valyrian steel and Vaella cannot help her breath being taken away. Her uncle knows her very well it seems, even with his prolonged absence.
“Do you think to buy me with shiny gifts, kepus? I am not as easily bought as Rhaenyra when it comes to pretty things.” Even as the words leave her mouth, Vaella’s hands twitch at her sides, yearning to reach out and feel the weight of the dagger in her hands.
“No, I would never think such a thing, nuhys prumia.”
Vaella takes the dagger from her uncle’s hands.
“This does not mean I have forgiven you.”
“Of course not,” Daemon mocks a shallow bow, taking a step back from her. “Nuhys darilaros.” With that, he passes by Vaella, continuing on to wherever he was headed. The fabric of his tunic lightly brushes against her side as he walks past her. Vaella watches as the light of the torch disappears as he rounds a corner before shaking her head and making her way towards her own chambers. She should take a bath before greeting her mother. Besides, she wants to hear whatever gossip her ladies have managed to acquire in the few days they have been at the Keep. Cerelle was always full of information.
“Look who has finally arrived!” Cassandra announces as Vaella slips into her chambers. All of her ladies in waiting, other than Laena, are spread out in the room she uses to entertain guests. Cassandra is lounging on her sofa; Cerelle, Elissa, and Perra are playing cards at a table; and Ireyne is watching Elissa lose once again with a bemused expression on her face.
For the past three years these girls had been Vaella’s constant companions. She had carefully picked each one with the assistance of Rhaenys and Rhaenyra and couldn’t be happier with her choices. It was said that Queen Alyssane’s ladies in waiting were so loyal to her that they sacrificed themselves when there was an assassination attempt on the Good Queen’s life. If it came down to it, Vaella doesn’t doubt that her girls would do the same for her.
Cassandra Baratheon was her oldest lady in waiting at the age of seventeen. As the daughter of Boremund Baratheon, she served as a representative from the Stormlands. Cassandra had no desire to marry some son of a random lord and had leaped at the chance to escape into the princess’ service. Now, she was one of Vaella’s closest friends, after her cousins of course.
Cerelle Farman was the second oldest. Her family was a minor house in the Westerlands. It had been difficult to find a lady of the right age from the Westerlands whose family wasn’t devoted entirely to the Lannisters, but Cerelle ended up being the perfect choice. She always knew what was going on and had a spitfire personality.
Ireyne Redfort’s family resided in the Vale. She came into Vaella’s service as a recommendation from her cousin, the Lady Paramount Jeyne Arryn. Unsure who to pick from the many options presented to her from the Vale, Vaella had written to Jeyne reintroducing herself and asking for any recommendations she may have, as there were no viable options from House Arryn to choose from. Jeyne had written back quickly with Ireyne’s name and the two had continued their correspondence, forming a close friendship.
Elissa Mormont was similar to Ireyne. Vaella was adamant on having proper representation from the North and had written to the Lord of Winterfell, Alaric Stark, as she had to her cousin Jeyne. House Stark had no daughters Vaella could take into her service, but Lord Stark recommended Elissa. He had been quite amenable to Vaella’s offer and Vaella had kept up an infrequent but valuable correspondence with him over the past few years as well.
The youngest of her ladies in waiting was Perra Redwyne. The Redwynes were a vassal house in the Reach and even though Rhaenyra already had two ladies from that kingdom, Vaella had wanted her own. Perra was an extremely sweet girl and was doted on by all of the ladies Vaella had taken into her household.
Being surrounded once again by her closest friends, Vaella allowed herself to relax completely. These girls were some of her most trusted confidants, something dearly needed when trying to combat the influence of the vipers that inhabited the capital. It was one of the many reasons Vaella despised visiting King’s Landing so much.
“I’m honestly surprised you didn’t drag out your arrival to the last possible second and force us to rush in order to get you ready,” Cerelle interjects in response to Cassandra. She has a wide grin on her face and Vaella is dearly tempted to throw a pillow at her. Alas, she has things to accomplish.
“Whatever,” Vaella settles on simply sticking her tongue out at Cerelle. “Everyone keeps saying that today. I am simply a person of mystery.”
“Oh yes,” Elissa snorts. “It is truly a mystery how you managed to survive the past few days without us.”
“Excuse me, I’ll have you know I had Laena with me,” Vaella defends.
“Oh please, Laena is just as bad as you are,” Cerelle counters.
“I am feeling extremely attacked right now. Aren’t you all supposed to be in service to me?” Vaella questions, adopting a fake tone of superiority and lifting her nose in the air. A pillow flies her way and she ducks beneath it with ease.
“You are in dire need of a bath,” Ireyne proclaims, herding Vaella in the direction of the bathroom. Elissa lays her cards down with a sigh and gets up to follow them, Cerelle close behind her.
“Did you lose again, Elissa?” Vaella calls over her shoulder as she gets undressed, wriggling out of her riding leathers.
“What do you think?” Perra giggles. The two devolve into squabbling over Elissa’s infamous ability to lose just about any card game. It's a source of great amusement for them all.
Vaella slowly sinks into the bath already drawn for her, the water comfortingly hot just as she likes it. Her muscles relax in the heat and she lets out a deep breath.
“Fill me in, Cerelle,” Vaella says as she reclines further into the tub. “What new and fascinating subjects have captured the attention of the Red Keep?”
“There’s not much to say, princess. All everyone wishes to talk about is the tourney and the Queen’s new child. There is much speculation on whether Daemon will be attending. I don’t believe there are any lords from the North attending and your cousin Jeyne sent her apologies, but she also won’t be in attendance.” Vaella had already known about that, but it was nice to see Cerelle knew what she was talking about. “I do believe the Lannisters will be in attendance. Of course, there will also be countless young men aiming for a knighthood descending upon the city as well.”
“I heard whispers of Hightower wanting to bring his son to King’s Landing permanently. Will Lord Hightower be in attendance as well?”
“Lord Hobert Hightower will be attending the tourney and I believe that he is bringing Gwayne as part of his entourage,” Cerelle responds.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the Hand ends up finding a position for his son in the Keep,” interjects Cassandra. Vaella rolls her eyes.
“Lovely. More snakes are just what we need.”
“Don’t fret, princess. There is always the hope that Prince Daemon will unseat Ser Hightower in the joust. A tragedy may yet befall their mighty house,” Perra adds cheekily. All of her ladies in waiting were well aware of Vaella’s dislike of the Hightowers, and Perra herself holds a special brand of animosity towards them. The Redwynes are a vassal house to the Tyrells, the Lord Paramounts of the Reach, and are extremely loyal to them. Many of the great houses there are unhappy with the Hightowers’ power grab, none more so than the Tyrells, as Vaella had learned from Rhaenyra’s lady in waiting, Delena Tyrell. The dynamics between Delena, who was known for her quick wit and biting tongue, and Alicent, who never seemed to be able to stand up for herself, always provided great entertainment.
“What dress for today, princess?” Ireyne asks as Vaella leaves the warmth of the tub.
“The new black and red gown, I think. It is my return to King’s Landing, after all. My entrance should be dramatic, yes?”
The girls laugh, knowing that Vaella would find a way to make an entrance no matter what. As the princess who was not often at court, Vaella often attracted attention whenever she visited. Of course, her Valyrian looks guaranteed that she would be the center of attention in any room she walked into, but it was always amplified when surrounded by the nobility that called her father King.
Vaella waits outside of her mother’s chambers as the Kingsguard announce her presence before making her way inside. The first person she saw upon arrival was her sister, but the only person to get an official visit is her mother. Only the best for the Queen, after all.
Vaella has an odd relationship with her mother. She loves her, of course, as any child does their mother, but there has always been a distance between them. Aemma had been too preoccupied with the many pregnancies she carried over the years when Vaella was young to spend too much time with her and then Vaella had left for Driftmark. It was there that Vaella first experienced what it was like to hold the love of a parent. So, while she will always hold a special place in her heart for her mother, it is her aunt Rhaenys who she calls muna , the Valyrian word for mother. Aemma is simply mother.
“Oh, my star,” says Aemma as she walks into the room. Vaella bends down to give her a hug, cherishing the brief contact between them.
She does not think she will be able to save her mother.
“How are you, mother? I have not seen you in ages.”
“Oh, as well as I can be, my love. The babe insists on waking me up at all hours of the night,” her mother answers. “Your father is convinced it will be a boy.”
“Yes, well, father is often convinced of that,” Vaella says before quickly changing the subject. “Has Rhaenyra picked out an egg for the babe?”
“Yes, she has. It is one of Dreamfyre’s, so that you both could be a part of the process,” says her mother. The thought fills Vaella with warmth. “Your sister is convinced it will be a girl. She wishes to name her Visenya.” Vaella smiles at her mother’s exasperated tone. Vaella is sure that if Rhaenyra had been old enough to name her, she would have ended up being called Visenya. She was quite happy with her own name, however.
“Has she been terribly overbearing?”
“You know your sister. She worries for me,” Aemma says, love coating every word.
“We all do, mother. You are an important member of this family, beyond your abilities to provide father with an heir,” Vaella states, the fierceness behind her words portraying her sincerity.
“I know, darling,” her mother’s hand rests upon her stomach as she lets out a sigh. “Onto lighter matters! I assume you will be attending your father’s tourney tomorrow?”
“Of course. Whatever would I do, should I miss the opportunity to watch men make fools out of themselves. It is my primary source of entertainment after all.”
“Oh, of course. Now, tell me all about your time at Driftmark. What adventures have you and your cousins gotten up to now?”