Cirilla was a girl bedevilled. All her life, she'd been plagued with terrible nightmares of fire and blood. But as she twisted and turned and burned, Daemon Targaryen smelt the smoke and smiled.
daemon targaryen x fem!oc
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ HOUS...
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𝕶ING'S LANDING'S COLOURS seemed to have diminished over the years. What once was a city of red spires had somewhat faded into something paler, less magnificent. At least from a distance. Of course, it could've been the swarm of heavy clouds that obscured her discernment. They'd been lingering since before Ciri woke that morning. It meant a storm was coming.
Ciri had quite enough of the rough waters these past five days. Being shaken and in a persistent state of dizziness was never something to be enjoyed. In spite of being a part of the Velaryon family, she did not actually share their blood, a fact that became evident as soon as she left land. Her stomach churned and gurgled and threatened to bring forth her lunch. It would be a relief to be on steady ground again. Even if that meant being confronted with her new life in the capital.
It was two months after Rhaenys had proposed the idea of a marriage to Harwin Strong, and the time had come for her to hold up her end of the bargain. Lyonel had invited her, but everyone knew it was the king trying to make amends. And what a poorly done job it was because Corlys refused to accompany her, still holding resentment for the Crown's insolence towards his family. So it was on the misty shore below High Tide that Ciri bade her loved ones farewell until the wedding.
Rhaenys kissed her cheek and whispered how proud she was. Corlys squeezed her shoulder affectionately, his other arm wrapped around his wife's waist. Laenor lifted her off her feet, planting messy kisses all over her face as she pretended to be annoyed. But it was Laena's goodbye that was hardest. She felt it like a cavity in her chest, all rotten and forlorn. Her sweetness had perforated her, and thus became an integral part of her being. To live without it, even for a month, was something Ciri had never done—wasn't sure she was capable of. When people looked at them, they thought Laena to be the dependent one. In truth, it was Ciri. She would not have half her confidence if she didn't know Laena would always be there holding the reins. Spurring her onwards and then hauling her back. Ciri had folded her sister into her arms, breathing in her honeyed scent. She could feel Laena doing the same.
"I love you," she mumbled into her hair.
"We'll see each other before you know it. But, just in case..." Laena reached into her pocket and presented a velvet pouch, tied with a ribbon of twine. She dropped it into Ciri's outstretched palm. "So you can carry a piece of home with you—a piece of us." Cupped between Ciri's hands was a gold signet ring, cradling the most radiant pearl she'd ever seen. "We call it the Light of the Ocean. Hidden, except for those who know to look for it."
