¹ 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 ━━ 𝐝. 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

xxxv. the fire in our blood

✧˖° 🌑 ೄྀ࿐
━ [ SONG OF SORROWS ] ༉‧₊˚✧
x. act one... the dragon's daughter
the fire in our blood ━ ✩・*。

— WINTER, 115 A.C
KING'S LANDING, CROWNLANDS

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THE repetitive sound of gravel and rocks crunching under-wheel of the royal wheelhouse became a droning noise to Valerys Targaryen, who — unsurprisingly — had been saddled with the task of holding the Princess Helaena throughout the journey. As the high-erected towers of the Red Keep faded from view, bleeding into the thick bouts of leafed trees, Valerys could sense the rising agitation alighting in her sister.

It was understandable, her anger — or rather, her grief. Grief at being diminished to a single flame of a once bright-burning fire, its oxygen torn from its grasp; Rhaenyra had become quiet, cold, a inane type of contemplative that only served to amplify her reluctance to let go. Not that Valerys blamed her, per se, she understood — she understood the pain that stemmed from losing the ones they loved, but Rhaenyra had no choice in the matter, had no say in the direction her fate took, plunging to the blistering depths of despair. Valerys had willingly severed that connection, the one that had once rushed like blood into her heart — something Rhaenyra would have killed for.

While Valerys attempted not to hold her sister's anger in harsh judgment, her father did. Ever the keeper of peace — or ease, as Valerys was well aware there could never be peace between Rhaenyra and Alicent Hightower — Viserys had tried time and time again to placate Rhaenyra's grievances, to pinch out the white-hot flame that bursted from her chest, hoping to destroy the fire that threatened to burn down the semblance of a family they'd built. He'd fancied Rhaenyra the wayward child, but he missed an important fact: Rhaenyra was lonely. Viserys had taken from her Aemma, Alicent, and with a ship-load of duties to be seen to, Valerys as well.

    It was a sad thing to see herself in Rhaenyra, and to be so powerless to ease her burden. To shield her from isolation. Her heart had been ground to dust, and Valerys was not wise enough to reform it.

"How goes the affairs with the Sealord of Braavos?" came the question of her father, regaining the fleeting attention of his eldest.

Valerys blinked, trying to recall what affairs she'd seen to with the Braavosi lord; days of tending to far-off business had melded her doings into one. "Well," she said, hoping her smile was a convincing medicine to her lie. "I assume a deal shall be brokered in the next sennight."

A particularly harsh rock sent the wheelhouse airborne before it rumbled back down. From across the space, Alicent grabbed her growing stomach and winced. Valerys gently comforted a distraught Helaena, taking the wood-carven butterfly figure from her hands and mock-flying it in front of her.

"Good news, then," replied Viserys, clearly unaware Valerys' report had been mildly fabricated. She would have time to recall her dealings with the Braavosi Sealord later; right now, she wanted to mend her fractured family.

    Unable to find any other topic to converse about, Valerys nodded and receded back into her mind. Twitching beside her — though whether from cold or anger, Valerys knew not — Rhaenyra leveled a harsh leer at their father, but stayed silent. Valerys relinquished one of her hands from Helaena and gripped Rhaenyra's own, trying to comfort her with a soft squeeze. Across the way, Aegon cooed in a handmaiden's arms, ever the energetic child, tussling white-blond hair and wailing for seemingly no purpose other than to make known his presence.