Rogue | Daemon&Rhaenyra

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A mistake was made the night Lord Corlys argued with his wife. A mistake was made as soon as he left her and picked up a goblet of wine. A mistake was made the moment he entered the Stree of Silk.

It was just one night. One stupid, effortless life, that changed his own forever. He regretted it entirely the next morning, but months later was informed that the whore had become with child.

His child.

Rhaenys didn't know what to do or how to act. Her husband had an affair. He fucked a whore, all while they are trying to have children of their own. She knows she cannot leave him over it, but the Gods will not be kind to her Lord-husband, nor his bastard child, of whom was born on the isle of Driftmark. The woman who her husband fucked was in her home and Rhaenys had to listen to the struggles of her labors.

But not just that, Rhaenys had to house the child as well.

The child was named Saerra and given the last name of Salt. She had no family name. She had no house, for she was a bastard. The mother raised her for five whole years on the isle, before a fever overtook her and the Stranger claimed her.

Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys were then stuck with the bastard girl, all while raising their own children.

Laenor and Laena didn't think much of the girl, for it was made clear what she was. Saerra was raised by her father still, but he held no love for her. He raised her because they share blood... but that is all. He loved his two true children, but not her.

Rhaenys never talked to the girl. All Saerra did was remind Rhaenys of the night her husband was unfaithful.

And as a result, Saerra had no love for any of them. She'd been told she was a burden her whole life. She found no comfort on Driftmark.

Saerra sat at the water's edge, string out at the horizon as the tides lapped at her feet. The only place where she could find just an ounce of calm was always the beaches. She would nest there for hours, hoping to never be found, and as she sat there, a girl barely 13 years of age, she wanted to make it all go away. She wanted to make everything go away. Saerra stepped down into the water, going further and further till it reached her chin, where she tilted her body back and floated on the surface. She listened to the water going in and out of her ears, acting as a sort of lullaby.

The sea was the only place she could be where she felt wanted, each pull of the tide gave her a strange comfort as the salt water dipped into her mouth

Her life continued on, boring, dull, and worthless. She never sat with the Velaryons as they ate. She was never treated as a Lady. She was never treated as though she had Valryian blood.

Saerra was nothing to the realm.

She wanted nothing more than to just disappear. She wanted to leave Westeros forever, for she was insanely miserable. She had no family, no home, and no sense of belonging. She was completely and utterly alone following the death of her mother. She was ignored on every occasion, never introduced to the lords and ladies of the realm. She was always on the sidelines, never to speak and never to be heard.

Saerra would spend all her free time at the beach. She would sit in the sand and collect shells. She would create beautiful works of art that would perhaps last longer than she did. She would write in her journal and keep to herself. She would write out her thoughts and feelings, since nobody else would listen.

She had the blood of Old Valyria, yet reaped no benefits. She was in line to inherit nothing. She had nothing to her name, only what House Velaryon decided to give her. She had pretty dresses and a halfway decent chamber, yet it didn't fill her empty heart. She had nothing to love. She had no life to live.

Saerra went so long without speaking, that she forgot she even had a voice.

She tried to take it all away one day, to make the pain go away and end her suffering, yet she was saved by the bannermen who dragged her back into the castle. She was scolded and reprimanded for her actions, but it only made her hatred for House Velaryon grow.

She hated them all. She hated Corlys and how he never accepted her as his daughter. She hated Rhaenys who never even acknowledged her existence. She hated Laenor and Laena just for being their spawn.

Saerra would gladly see them drown within their own tides. She cared not for House Velaryon, and certainly not for House Targaryen.

Yet the Velaryons are to visit King's Landing for the tourney to celebrate the birth of the King's son. They sail through Blackwater Bay and enter the city where, as always, Saerra is sidelined.

Saerra escapes the hellish confines of the Red Keep by not entering it at all. She decides to explore the city all on her own as a girl of but 16 years of age. She walks through King's Landing to experience it all for herself. She sees how the people in the capitol live their lives. She sees the street vendors and performers. She sees the goats and smells them too. She sees everything life is meant to be... filled with variety. It's essentially the only time she has ever smiled throughout her entire life, in a city filled with strangers. With the few gold coins she has, Saerra buys herself some fruit, as well as a goblet of sour Dornish wine, and enjoys it as she watches a less-than-appropriate show about the Targaryens. She laughs at the crude jokes and applauds once it's all over, then continues to wonder about the city. She enters a dirtier part of King's Landing, one starkly different than the rest. The streets are filthy and the air seems harder to breath as Saerra walks down the very place she was conceived.

The Street of Silk

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[ what do we think so far? ]