There's something off about the King's Personal attendant.
Something sinister.
***Used to be Savage***
***Currently Being Edited***
Female!OC x Viserys Targaryen
Female!OC x Alicent Hightower
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Sunlight streamed through the trees as the sun began its descent from the sky. Hounds barked in the distance as they tried to chase the scent the white hart had left behind. Darla leaned back against Viserys's chest, his hands rested in front of her holding tight to the horse's reins. Darla could feel the large animal shift under her, her stomach turning at the lack of control she felt.
A servant boy rushed to the King's steed placing wooden steps down and taking the horse's reins. Darla stared down at the steps, unsure of how she was meant to dismount. She hadn't grown up learning to ride or hawk, she had never even seen a horse this close before. She had asked to join on nothing more than a whim and now she would make a fool of herself.
A gloved hand appeared before her, causing her gaze to dart up to meet the man's gaze. Light blue eyes met her own, offering her a kind smile. "My lady."
Worn leather felt soft under Darla's touch as she slipped her hand into the mans, letting him help her off the horse. "Thank you, my lord."
The sound of boots hitting the dirt and a hand brushing across her back caused Darla to look back at Viserys, smiling as he ushered her forward.
"Your Grace, my lady." The royal huntsman greeted as Viserys and Darla met him in the middle of the small clearing.
"How far?"
"Her droppings were found half a league to the east." The bald man held his hand out.
Darla watched in disgust as Viserys removed his glove and lifted one of the droppings. Her stomach churned, as her breakfast threatened to come back up.
"Still fresh." Viserys felt the weight and texture, and sniffed the excrement.
"Between two and three hours, Your Grace. My best scout spied him. The beast is upward of 35 stone and we now have his trail."
"Aye." Viserys agreed, pulling his riding glove back on.
"Before the dragons ruled over Westeros, the white hart was a symbol of royalty in these lands."
"And on this day of all days," Otto Hightower's sudden appearance startled Darla, too preoccupied with her revulsion to notice him making his way over to the three. "I've never been one for signs and portents, Your Grace, but if the gods did wish to show their favor."
Darla shook her head slightly, forcing herself to push away her feelings of abhorrence. "Right you are, Lord Hand," Viserys and Otto looked at her in shock. " The gods show their favor on my son's name day."
Viserys smiled, slipping his arm around Darla's waist and patting Otto on the shoulder. Darla attempted to banish the memory of Viserys holding an animal's feces from her mind, allowing him to lead her back to the horse.
