The water was choppy as they crossed the bay and Visaera clung to the railing of the ship, fighting the urge to vomit up her breakfast. Heavy black clouds shrouded the sun from view, reflecting perfectly the melancholy the princess was feeling. She hadn't spoken a word to her mother all morning, not at breakfast, not in the harbor, and not as they boarded the ship and Rhaenyra bid her goodbye.
As the ship moved across the blackwater, she watched the her family and their dragons disappear into the distance ahead of the sails. She didn't want to feel it, but resentment still managed to boil up in her gut as she watched her brothers and parents fly overhead. The gods weren't fair when they forced her to be born into the Targaryen bloodline without a dragon, and her family was cruel for making her travel alone. Even Joffrey had been tied to Rhaenyra's chest before she mounted Syrax.
As they were rowed to shore from the anchored ship, Visaera looked up at the castle in the distance, her astonishment written all over her face. Her nose was filled with the smell of salt and sulfur and brimstone as the wind whipped around her. It was colder than King's Landing, a lot colder. Without the protection of the bay, the elements could be felt in full force.
Already, she hated it. And yet, even in her horrid mood, Visaera couldn't deny that the castle was beautiful. As they marched up the long bridge, she stared up at the towers, looking like great stone dragons. Her dreams of flames and smoke suddenly seemed more familiar, as if Dragonstone longed for her to feel the dragonfire that burned in her blood. Instead, it only reminded her was that she didn't have a dragon of her own.
A faint buzz settled around the edges of her consciousness, like the sound of fireflies hovering in the night. She entered through the stone mouth of a dragon, and her footsteps echoed off the walls as she was escorted into the great hall.
"This is where our ancestors first settled after the doom of Valyria, nearly two-hundred years before Aegon and his sisters conquered the Seven Kingdoms." Rhaenyra recited, as her daughter glanced about. It had been years since the princess had been inside the walls of the keep; she seemed to be nearly as impressed by the castle as her children were. "Alright, then, go find yourself a room." Jace and Luke were already running around the castle, settling into their new home. Visaera remained where she was, still staring about.
"Visaera—"
"Please, don't," she begged her mother, "I'm here, aren't I?" she asked. Without another word, she marched out of the hall and went to find her chambers. The stone walls held little warmth compared to the Red Keep and, by the time she found a set of rooms to her liking, she was shivering.
"Here, my lady, let me," one of the maids insisted. She was young, only a few years older than Visaera, and she had long, auburn hair.
"Please," Visaera, acknowledged, standing back to so that she could start a fire. "What's your name?"
"Alarya, my princess," she replied as she stacked wood in the hearth.
"My mother only just brought you here to Dragonstone?" she asked. As she struck the flint and steel together, attempting to light the kindling, the girl answered to the affirmative.
"I am to remain by you side and see to your needs, princess," Alarya i formed her. Once the fire was burning and the room began to warm, the girl stood and waited for further instruction from her princess.
"A jug of water, and then you may go," Visaera told her with a small nod. A few minutes later, she was finally left alone in the dim light of the fire. The room she had chosen only had two windows, on the east side of the walls. She hoped the early morning light would do her some good in the unfamiliar place.
Picking up one of the furs from the bed, she wrapped it around her shoulders, and sat down on the rug in front of the hearth, absorbing some of the fire's warmth. Already, she missed the safety of her own rooms in the Red Keep; the knowledge that Aegon was only a few corridors away. Dragonstone was different. While she couldn't deny the beauty of the architecture, nothing there felt familiar or comfortable.
On and on, the faint thrumming droned, too loud to ignore but far too quiet to understand. It was driving her mad by the time Alarya came to fetch her for supper. Dinner was a somber affair as the family adjusted to their new home. Joined together around the large table in a finely decorated hall, they all ate in relative silence. Visaera merely picked at her meal, still angry with her mother for forcing her to leave the only home she had ever known.
Without a glance at Rhaenyra, the princess excused herself, leaving her plate mostly untouched, and went to bed, bolting her door closed for the night. Outside the walls, she could hear the waves crashing against the shoreline, loud and unrelenting. She fed the flames another piece of wood, hauled her blanket and furs across the room, and curled up in a ball in front of the fire, desperately wishing to be elsewhere...
** ** **
Aegon walked through the corridors of the keep feeling dismal. Visaera and the rest of his half-sister's brood had left early that morning, just after the sun peeked over the horizon. While he often slept well into the morning, the night before he had found no rest; merely remained awake with his niece in his arms. Rubbing his burning eyes, he kicked at the stone ground, trying to imagine what Visaera was doing at the very same moment, Already, the castle felt cold, as if Rhaenyra had taken the fire from each and every hearth when she stole her daughter away. Of course, he knew it must have only been in his head. Many times, he had gone a day or two without seeing the princess, but the realization that it could be years until he saw her again left him feeling broken.
Supper had been an uncomfortable affair. Try as she might, Alicent couldn't get more than a few words out of her children and, eventually, they fell into silence as they ate. Even Aemond, who never seemed fond of the Velaryon children, seemed to be brooding over the loss of their presence.
When he tired of looking at his family's faces around the table, Aegon picked up a jug of wine and left the room with it. The sun sank over the horizon and the corridors grew dark as Aegon wandered through the castle, drinking until his senses dulled. Instead of returning to his quarters, he wandered to the other end of the royal apartments and entered another's rooms. Her rooms.
Even though she hadn't been there in hours, Aegon felt closer to her. He could almost imagine she had gone to bid her mother goodnight and she would return in a mere moment. In her dark chambers, he set down the wine and fell onto her mattress, burying his face in the sheets. The room had been cleaned in her absence, but the hazy smell of her lingered in the air and he fell asleep in her bed, wrapped in the faint scent of citrus...
** ** **
Visaera woke in the middle of the night, ceaselessly screaming and battling under the blankets. The flames were consuming her, melting her skin from her bones and turning her to ash. Faintly, she could hear her own cries, as if listening to someone shouting in another room. The sound of frantic voices and fists pounding against her door finally pulled her into consciousness. Untangling herself from the pile of furs, the princess rose and unlocked the door, falling into Laenor's arms and sobbing. Her skin was still searing with a heat she couldn't shake.
"Oh, my sweet girl," he breathed, glancing her over to ensure she was alright and hugging her close to his chest. "Are you alright?" She continued to cry, clinging to him and burying her face in his shirts.
"It was me this time... I was burning with them!" she sobbed.
"Burning with who my love? Oh, you had a nightmare?" Visaera nodded, but she knew it was more than that; it was another vision, the same as last time. She saw it all in her head: a man pounding against a door, desperately trying to escape as fire consumed him; a woman, falling over in front of a monstrous form, suddenly bursting into white-hot flames. Something awful was going to happen; she felt it in her gut.
Even when her tears ran dry and she was able to calm herself, Laenor remained by her side, to Visaera's relief. All night, he held her and spoke comforting words in her ear as she leaned against him. More than anything, she wanted Aegon. Still, she was grateful that she didn't have to be alone. In the morning, her mother found them both asleep together in front of the fire...
For days, Visaera wandered about, loathing her new surroundings. The dragons carved into the walls were something to marvel at but there were no secret passageways, no warm gardens, and there was no Aegon... Without Septa Brinna, Rhaenyra was in charge of her daughter's lessons, but Visaera still refused to speak to her mother. Instead, the princess moved from room to room, trying to ignore the strange humming in her ears. No matter how many times she tried to clean them, the faint noise would not go away. It shimmered around her edges, unshakable and yet just out of reach. The more she focused on it, the more she thought she might be going mad.
Four days after their arrival, as the family was sitting around the breakfast table, two ravens arrived, one from the east and one from the west. Rhaenyra silently read them both, her back going rigid, and then promptly excused herself from the table. Visaera didn't need to read the missives to know that they brought horrible news; she could feel it in the very depths of her soul.
"Mother?" Rhaenyra started at the sound of her daughter's voice as Visaera entered the room. They hadn't spoken in nearly a week and it caught her off guard. "People are dead...aren't they?" she asked. Rhaenyra nodded, clenching her jaw and trying desperately not to cry in front of Visaera. "They burned, didn't they?" she finally asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. The violet eyes across the room stared at her in shock. "I had a dream..." Visaera finally admitted when Rhaenyra opened her mouth to ask a question.
"A dream?" Visaera merely nodded, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
"Who's dead, mother?" she inquired; the question making her Rhaenyra visibly swallow. The unsettled feeling in her stomach returned, as it often did whenever she thought about her visions.
"Ser Harwin and his father... Your aunt Laena." If only for her brother's sake, Visaera mourned the loss of Ser Harwin. She knew how Jace felt and how much he would miss the knight. On the other hand, she had never met her aunt Laena, and knew only a little about her. It was hard for her to mourn someone she had never met.
"Will we go to their funerals?" she asked softly.
"We will fly to Driftmark in a few days and attend the funeral for Laena," Rhaenyra answered.
"But not Ser Harwin?" Visaera asked. Her mother shook her head. The princess hadn't needed to ask; she knew that it would be inappropriate for her family to be seen mourning the loss of Rhaenyra's rumored lover. It only made her feel worse for her brother. "Can I fly with you on Syrax?" she asked, approaching her mother and offering her a hand to squeeze. Perhaps she would never find peace on Dragonstone, but her mother didn't deserve to suffer her loss alone. No matter how angry she was with Rhaenyra, she knew her mother needed her support.
"Of course, my sweet girl, of course you can." She pulled Visaera into her arms and gently ran her fingers through her daughter's curls. "Now, go on, love. Go finish your breakfast and then we will start your lessons." No longer willing to put her mother through more pain, Visaera nodded in agreement and returned to the hall to finish her breakfast...