It was just after dawn, and the soft light of the morning was beginning to creep through her windows, when Visaera woke, screaming in agony. Years had passed since she had experienced such a vision; she had almost forgotten how they felt. She had been burning, swallowed by flames, pain coursing through her as though she were actually on fire.
A sob ripped itself from her jaws, as she rubbed her hands over her arms, trying to soothe the heat coming from her skin. As she had so many times before, she took a deep breath and tried to remind herself that it was only a dream; that her visions couldn't hurt her...
And yet, she could still feel the heat simmering beneath her skin; she could see the steam that swirled around her from the sheer warmth her body was emitting.
She tugged on her trousers and a flannel top, not even bothering to lace her boots in her haste to dress. Ser Jaunton was fast asleep when she opened her door, his chin resting on his chest plate as he snored softly. She shook her head and rolled her eyes, a soft smile gracing her face. Some guard...
Outside, it was cool and the air soothed her angry skin as she made her way across the grounds. The Godswood had always brought her peace and she immediately made it her destination, gulping down the damp morning air.
It was quiet. Mornings in the Red Keep always had a strange calm to them; it was one of the reasons she had loved them as a child. Birds had just begun to sing but the walls around the keep cast a grey shadow over everything, giving her surroundings a sleepy feel.
When she finally reached the Godswood, she paused in front of the great Weirwood tree and stared up at the leaves, a bleeding contrast to the pale light of the dawn. Not knowing what compelled her to do it, she stepped over the wide roots and ran her fingers over the trunk, feeling the texture of the bark. Peace had yet to find her; instead, she felt like something unseen was calling out to her, encouraging her to continue. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to the crying face on the tree, intending to pray, something she never did, and immediately regretted it...
Her eyes were searing with a pain she had never experienced before as flashes of white-hot light separated the scenes that flicked through her mind. A dizzying wave of nausea wracked her body and yet her grip tightened against the bark of the tree. With each moment she saw, a pang of emotion coursed through her, making them nearly tangible. Her mother, younger than she was now, was commanding Syrax to light a pyre as sorrow and loss swept over her. Then Rhaenyra and Dameon were pressed against a wall, desire pulsing in the air. Another sight, Ser Criston Cole arguing with her mother; a look on his face that was easily recognized as jealousy.
On and on the scenes flashed behind her eyes, until she began seeing things that she knew had not happened yet. With every fleeting scene, the pain in her eyes increased until she finally screamed, her lungs aching as if she had been crying for hours. The images and feelings that followed were worse, much worse, horrifying, even... Screams and dragons and fire and blood. Her entire body was convulsing as the visions coursed through her like lightning; her nails still digging into the bark of the tree as she grew faint.
When she finally came to, Visaera was sobbing, lying flat upon her back on the damp ground. Unable to see anything through the thick, crimson color filling her eyes, she scrambled across the grass and clawed at her surroundings, desperate to find purchase on something familiar.
Her mind was a scrambled mess and she tried to make sense of what had just happened to her.
"Are you alright, princess?" She was hauled to her feet by a familiar voice and, as she blinked repeatedly to clear her eyes, Ser Criston finally came into hazy view. "You're bleeding..." he murmured, reaching out and smearing the red tear across her cheek with the pad of his thumb. There was a soft compassion to his gaze that made her gut twist with disgust as she remembered what she had just seen.
"Don't fucking touch me!" she hissed, recoiling. The vision of him and Rhaenyra flashed in her mind once more, churning her stomach and threatening to make her sick. "Do I remind you of her, Cole? Of my mother... Before you were willing to abandon your vows? Before you betrayed her for not returning your sentiments?" Visaera had no idea what made her say such things, but the words poured from her with malice she didn't know she was capable of possessing. "I'm not my mother, Ser Criston, I'm far worse, I promise you. If you ever presume to touch me again, I'll make you wish the Queen hadn't stayed your hand. I'll make you wish you had killed yourself that night..."
As she stormed off, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands, Ser Criston stared after her in shock, wondering how she knew any of the things she had just told him. While it was possible that Rhaenyra had said something about him, he couldn't imagine her telling any of her children about Cole's offer to abandon his position and whisk her across the narrow sea. And the only one who knew about his suicide attempt was the Queen herself; she would never breathe a word of it to anyone...
Visaera was panicking as she made her way back to her rooms, rubbing furiously at her eyes and willing the burning to fade. Never had she experienced a vision of such magnitude, and never had she experienced one while she was awake. With trembling fingers, she hunted down her satchel and began throwing things inside, all while fighting the tremors that wracked her limbs. She tried desperately to make sense of what she had seen, but so many different things had flashed before her mind that they were almost all jumbled together. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on a single image, pulling it forward in her jumbled mind.
Aemond... She watched as Aemond flew through a downpour of rain and then... Lucerys... The feeling the vision provided was enough to knock her flat on her bum and choke out a wrenching sob. War was coming and Lucerys was going to be the first casualty, she knew it in her gut.
Fury bubbled through her, so strong she nearly marched to Aemond's room to smother him in his sleep. Instead, she continued to pack her things, realizing that she was no longer safe alone in the capital. Something was coming and she needed to be prepared for it.
Leaning over the table, she wrote out three letters with shaking hands, offering words of apology and plenty of excuses, hoping they would be enough. She hardly noticed the red tears that marked the page as she scribbled out her goodbyes.
"Ser Jaunton," she whispered, peaking her head out of her door. The sound of her huffs had woken him upon her return and now he looked fully alert. "I need your help..."
** ** **
"Are you sure about this, princess?" the knight asked her one last time.
"Yes..." she replied. "Are you going to be in much trouble for letting me go?" She was staring at the small ship anchored against the dock and her stomach churned involuntarily. Fuck... Already, she was seasick and she hadn't even stepped foot on the ship.
"Perhaps, but it's all part of the job. I was assigned to guard you and keep you safe during your time in the capital. I have done that, and now you're going home. I don't believe there is a safer place for you..." She hummed in response, looking out over the blackwater and thinking about Dragonstone. Less than a month. She had barely lasted longer than a fortnight alone in the Red Keep; the realization made her feel pathetic. At the sound of the captain making his last call, Visaera threw her arms around the knight.
"Thank you, Ser Jaunton. I know my stay didn't last long, but you have been wonderful."
"Hmm. Had I been wonderful, that cunt of a prince wouldn't have managed to slip into the bathhouse..." His admission made her laugh. She didn't care anymore.
The salt and smoke of Dragonstone were calling her home and her stay in the keep would quickly become a distant memory. Only once she boarded and the Red Keep began to shrink away did she allow herself to think about Aegon; a pang of sorrow coursed through her and her hand moved instinctively to clutch the silver doe around her neck.
Even with favorable winds and small waves, Visaera was sick multiple times on the voyage. She arrived on Dragonstone the next morning, thanking the captain as she jumped off the ship and hurried down the dock and toward the castle in the distance... Visaera smiled as a familiar hum coursed through her body, settling in the edges of her consciousness like the warm embrace of a friend welcoming her home.
It was still early, the faint light of dawn casting shadows beneath the dragon statues in the distance, and Visaera decided that her first order of business was the bath she had been longing for. Excitement coursed through her and she broke into a sprint, heading for the caves that held her favorite place on the island. She stripped the moment she entered the cavern, letting out a groan the moment her naked body was immersed in the scalding water.
Now, this is a proper bath... she thought, reclining back and letting her eyes fall closed.
She had missed home far more than she had even realized.
By the time Visaera had finished with her long soak, the sun had risen and Dragonstone was bathed in the warm light of the summer morning. The hike up the long staircase left her winded, but also exhilarated. It felt better to be back than she had imagined it would. The moment she entered through the dragon's mouth and into the Great Hall, all eyes fell on her, breathless and damp and grinning.
Her good mood didn't last long as her mother stared at her with sharp eyes, picking up the scroll from the raven that had beat her back to Dragonstone. Visaera shifted uncomfortably under her mother's pointed gaze.
"Mother—"
"Don't, Visaera." Rhaenyra snapped. "Don't even start with the excuses." Her mother began to pace back and forth as Daemon merely leaned against the mantel of the hearth, waiting for his wife to finally explode. "I don't even know where to begin..."
"I'm sure you'll find somewhere," Visaera muttered, taking a seat at the table.
"Firstly, you made no mention of a betrothal offer, even though you've already had a chance to send a raven. In less than a moon's time, you've managed to have your reputation questioned because of your behavior with your uncle, and then you sail back to Dragonstone without the crown's leave and think leaving a letter behind will act as some kind of balm for your actions?" Already, Visaera had begun chewing on the edges of her nails, avoiding her mother's eyes.
"You're not even going to ask for my side of things?" she finally asked.
"There are no 'sides' to these things. Visaera! You well know how important appearances are! You're the heir to the Iron Throne for fuck's sake!"
"Did you ever think that maybe I don't fucking want to be?" she finally yelled, surprising them all.
"I-" Rhaenyra grimaced in pain and pressed a hand to her belly. "I can't do this right now. I need to lie down." She paused just before leaving the hall and turned to her daughter, "You will return to King's Landing on the next ship and I will not hear another word on the subject. I'm disappointed..." A lump had formed in Visaera's throat and she struggled to swallow it as she finally glanced up at Daemon.
"There's no arguing with her, now, love. The Queen's letter was... Well, she's a cunt and we all know it," Visaera smirked at his statement, "but your mother is right. Even when we don't want them, there are more eyes on us than we can count. Our reputation is of utmost—"
"Our reputation?" Visaera snapped, slamming her hands on the table and rising from her chair, "Our reputation? You of all people can lecture me on reputation when you fucked my mother in a pleasure den?" Daemon opened his mouth to form a reply but no sound came out. For the first time since she had met him, Visaera had shocked him to silence. Her nails were digging into the edge of the table as she fought back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. "Do you have any idea how it feels to know I was conceived in a fucking whore house? You're both fucking hypocrites!"
Without another word, she shoved herself away from the table and fled the Great Hall, hating them both for their expectations of her. It wasn't fair that the entire realm knew they flouted their duties in favor of one another, yet they dared to lecture her about her reputation!
She didn't know where she was running until she burst into Rhaena's rooms, throwing herself into her sister's arms.
"Visaera, what in the God's—" When Visaera let out a sob, the question dies in Rhaena's throat and her arms instinctively wrapped around her big sister. Only when the silver princess stopped sobbing and began to sniffle did her sister speak again. "What happened?"
So Visaera launched into a full description of everything that had happened in the capital. Minor details about her and Aegon's activities had been glazed over, but everything else poured out of her, up until the vision.
She didn't even know where to begin to explain the vision. So she didn't. Visaera told her that she had a vision and war was coming; enough for her sister to understand why she was so upset, but not enough for her to bear the same burden she did. All the while, Rhaena held her, listening intently.
"What exactly was in the vision?" Rhaena finally asked when she had nothing else to say. Visaera shook her head.
"Enough horror to make me wish we could all flee across the Narrow Sea," Visaera replied, watching as her sister's eyes widened in dismay.
"But Rhaenyra commanded you to return to the Red Keep?" Visaera shrugged.
"Seems I don't have a choice. I'm just going to have to come up with a solution that will keep the vision from ever happening." Rhaena considered her words.
"How do you plan to do that?"
"It all starts with Aemond and Lucerys." Visaera reasoned, "So, I have to get through to Aemond..."
Only a few hours later, Visaera was standing on the dock with Jacaerys, chewing her bottom lip into a bloody mess. Daemon had tried to speak to her but she wasn't interested in anything else he had to say to her. Instead of getting a warm welcome, Visaera had been lectured, and her idea of a nice homecoming had been ruined.
"I still don't understand why you didn't just send a raven and ask the Queen to let you come home..." he offered. His sister snorted and shook her head.
"Oh, yes. That's a wonderful idea, Jace. Excuse me, your grace, but I just had a vision that you and your family are going to launch the realm into chaos and we are all going to die. I think I would like to go home now and just forget all about any of the offers we've discussed." A pink flush spread over his cheeks as Jace realized exactly how silly that sounded.
"I suppose you're right," he finally relented. As the captain called to lift the anchor, Visaera turned and gripped her brother as tightly as she could.
"Jace," her voice shook as she finally released him, "Don't leave me alone in King's Landing. Please, promise me that if something awful happens, you'll come for me." For the first time in his life, Jacaerys realized that his sister sounded scared; truly terrified.
"I promise, Vis," he finally agreed, giving her a reassuring squeeze. She boarded the ship, already feeling queasy with the thought of facing another day on the water. As they set sail for King's Landing, Visaera watched Dragonstone shrink into the distance, hardly noticing as the humming in her ears faded away to silence...