The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts.
She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches...
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A year has passed since the threat to Daegon's life - since then, a lot of things have happened. Princess Alyssa has given birth to Prince Aelor Targaryen, a little boy with silver locks and soft dimpled cheeks. The pride of her house.
"He cries all the time," she complains to her father, staring at Aelor with a pout on her lips. "- I don't know what to do," she adds with a sigh while settling on the chair tiredly. "We'll be here for a few hours, you should rest." Saera smiles, holding the little boy in her arms. She gazes down upon the little boy - seeing her face behind those round cheeks.
"I cannot possibly - this should be your rest, Viserra and Daelon are more difficult than Aelor." Alyssa dismisses, rising to help her mother - but Daemon sends her down. "Mischievous they may be, but we are used to it." he replied, motioning for the servants to bring food and water for his daughter.
Saera looks at her daughter - a sympathetic smile on her face. "You will be used to it, and when they're grown - you will miss the sound of their cries." she explained with a deep breath, rocking the babe to sleep.
"Aemond cannot even fathom the thought of Aelor being grown," the girl chuckles, seeing her husband leaning on the doorframe. Saera turns to the man behind her. "Join us," she greeted - her brother made his way beside Alyssa. "Aelor hasn't allowed any of us to sleep since his birth," Aemond informed, smiling at his sister.
"He inherited that from his mother," Daemon grinned, and the servants entered with a cart full of treats. "Ah yes, Alyssa's cries shook the realm." Saera raised her eyebrows, placing the boy inside his cradle.
"How did you do that?" Aemond stares at his son sleeping soundly on his bed.
"It is a skill," Saera replied, picking a small fruit from the table.
—
"Kepa," Saera opened her mouth, settling beside her father who was dancing between the lines of consciousness and unconsciousness. "Saera," he said her name perfectly - already knowing who she was without looking. "You have visited," he seemed to be happy, but his eyes remained closed.
"I don't have much time left," he croaked, coughing on a piece of fabric. "You've been swearing that since mother's death - and yet, here we are. A decade later and you are still breathing." she chuckled, not believing his words. Viserys was dark at times - but there were no truths to his words.
"Barely," he coughed.
"I often wonder if marrying Alicent was the best choice." he pondered, and her eyes trail to the figure behind her. It was Alicent and Alyssa, both of their eyes were wide open with the revelation. "- but I see clearly." he added, opening his eyes - flashing her those milky hues that have begun to turn blue.
"Daegon must be king." he implied, and her eyebrows merged into each other. His voice was horse and unpredictable. She could not determine whether or not he was saying 'Daegon' or 'Aegon'.
"Pardon," she breathed - the grip on his hand began to tighten. "Daegon must be King, I've dreamt about it." he repeated, and now it was clear.
She knew that it would be enough evidence to supplant her sister - that there were enough witnesses to claim the throne - but it didn't make sense. It would start a war - she couldn't start a war in the name of her son. She couldn't kill her boy knowing that she could do something to prevent it.
Alicent was about to open her mouth, but the Princess prevented her.
"The King is tired," she reasoned, rising to her feet.
"- If you will excuse me,"
Saera and Daemon departed from Kings Landing the same night. Unaware that Viserys was taking his last breath, and that the Dance of the Dragon was about to commence.
—
"Is everything alright?" Alyssa inquires, peeking her head through the small crack on the door - seeing thousands of handmaidens, servants and maesters inside the room of her grandfather. She wasn't the kind to be awakened by a little noise - but Aelor was, and he was currently crying while his father attempted to soothe him.
"I'm unsure," Aemond clears his throat - keeping his hands firm around his baby boy.
"Can you check for me?" she asks, tilting her head in his direction. His hair was tied in a neat bun - eye filled with bags and lips settled into a pout. He nodded his head - reaching for her hand and pressing a soft kiss behind her palms. He gently lowers his son, giving the little boy.
She moves out of the way - providing him enough space to make it through the halls. Aemond bolts to the direction of his father's room, gently shutting the door behind him.
—
"They've crowned him?" Rhaenyra's voice cracks at the news. "In front of the masses, your grace." Ser Erryk announces, and Saera's face simmers with rage. They would rather crown a charlatan instead of a woman.
"- and Alicent? Why did she let this happen?" Rhaenyra inquires, holding out hope that her old friend still bore love for her. "She crowned Princess Helaena, your grace." he added, exchanging a small glance with Daemon.
It was a surprise to them a fleet of the gold cloaks came knocking down their doors - pledging their allegiance to Prince Daemon, and all that he commands. "Princess Alyssa was there, were you able to speak to her?" Saera voices her concern and Erryk shakes his head.
"Their doors were barred, my princess. We couldn't enter without arousing suspicion." he apologized, and Saera's face tightened. Her little girl - left alone with the vipers. "But we will get her, right?" she looked at her husband's face, searching for any traces of worry.
"Don't worry, Saera - this little rebellion will be squashed as quickly as it began." Daemon comforted, rubbing circles on her back. "I will see to it that those Hightowers are executed," he gritted his teeth, placing the blame on everything that wasn't on his side. "We must gather our bannerman and forge alliances." Saera added, taking a stride towards the council room.
—
"The both of you will do a great job. Lord Baratheon swears fealty to us. I trust that he will honor his promises." Rhaenyra smiled at Daegon and Lucerys. "You must be courteous and kind. Protect yourselves, and leave at the first sight of danger." Saera reminded - not wanting harm to befall the boys.
"Expect a warm welcome, you are related to Lord Baratheon by your grandmother, Princess Rhaenys." Rhaenyra placed a hand on her son's cheek.
"Stay safe, the both of you." Saera bit the inner corner of her lips.
She had a feeling that something bad was about to ensue.
