Visaera hissed as she lowered herself into the copper tub for the second time since her return. Maester Gerardys had sent up salts and oils to add to her bath for her skin and it stung like fire as she sank down into the water. Baela and Rhaena were sitting on her sofa in front of the fire, repeatedly glancing at her as though she had three heads.
"Will you two stop that?" she snapped, glaring across the room at them and the pair of them looked at one another, embarrassed.
"Sorry, Vis. It's just... The Canni—" Visaera's glare had Rhaena correcting herself immediately, "Carrion. He's nearly as formidable as Vhagar..."
"Yes, thank you for reminding me of the war dragon my uncle rides while our parents speak of the impending war," she replied, rolling her eyes.
"We hope it will not come to that," her mother interjected from the doorway. "Girls, I would like a moment with Visaera." Rhaena and Baela left the room and Rhaenyra came to sit by her tub.
"Shouldn't you be resting?" Visaera asked with concern. Every time she had seen her mother in the last few hours, Rhaenyra had been on her feet. While the princess understood that there were pressing matters to see to, Rhaenyra should have been abed to discuss them, not walking about the keep.
"I will, I promise," her mother assured her, pushing her wet curls back from her face. "We need to talk to you about what happened in King's Landing. Rhaenys already informed us of the coronation before you arrived, but now we need to hear all of it, everything that happened after we left."
From the corner of her eye, Visaera caught sight of Daemon leaning against the doorway and she sighed. He was going to be livid...
"I need to ask something of you first, Mother, and I need you to not be mad about it..." Rhaenyra raised a curious eyebrow at her and waited, "I need Maester Gerardys to brew a moon tea..."
Worried about their reaction to her request, Visaera stared at her reflection in the water and listen to her father make a choking sound. When she finally dared to look at them, Rhaenyra's mouth was pursed as if she had sucked on a lemon; Daemon appeared to have swallowed one whole.
"Visaera,"
"Yes, I know, I know! I was careless and stupid, but would you rather I tell you now or would you rather I sire a bastard and forever wonder who the babe's father is?" Her parents gaped at her; a look of horror reflected on both of their faces.
"Oh, my sweet, foolish child," Rhaenyra sighed, rubbing her eyes in frustration, "Of course, I will have the tea brewed. Now, tell me all about what happened, my love."
Visaera told them everything, how she and the Queen had argued only minutes after they had departed; how she and Aemond had argued directly after; how Aegon had asked her to stay, despite the dissolution of the betrothal.
"I realize now that, perhaps, I should have left that very moment, but you know I don't think very clearly when it comes to my uncle." Daemon snorted and shared a look with his wife, shaking his head.
"She gets that from you, you know," he commented, making Rhaenyra chuckle. Visaera continued with her story, explaining how Aemond had apologized and sworn to make it up to her. She told them about supper with Helaena, how she had hit Aemond, leaving out the fact that she had fucked him immediately after. The princess went on to explain what Alarya found out about Larys Strong's spies in the keep.
"I left supper that night needing to be alone with my thoughts, but then I fell over in the corridor, images of the King flashing behind my eyes. I knew he was dying, so I went to him. I wanted to be there with him so he wouldn't be alone. I knew you wouldn't want him to be alone..." At the memory of the King reaching for her, calling for his daughter, a tear slipped down Visaera's cheek. "He thought I was you... I don't know it that makes it better somehow, but at least he thought you were there with him at the end."
Tears were streaming down Rhaenyra's cheeks as Visaera leaned over the edge of the tub and caught her mother's hand. "He loved you, Mother, and I know how much you loved him. We will do right by him and the Hightowers will pay, I promise you."
"How did you escape?" Rhaenyra asked.
"I have Grandmother to thank for that," Visaera answered, "When she and Meleys broke through the floor of the Dragonpit, it gave me a chance to run. Though, I owe a great deal to Ser Erryk as well, he saw me safely aboard a ship and transported here without incident. You should be proud to have him on your guard."
Rhaenyra gripped her daughter's hand and they sat in silence as Daemon begrudgingly went to see Maester Gerardys.
When the water grew cold, Visaera dried herself as carefully as she could before applying a salve to her torn skin and dressing in a soft velvet gown. She joined her family around the Painted Table in the Great Hall. Visaera remained silent as she observed the conversation around the table, Daemon, Rhaenyra, and all the rest discussing what was to come next.
Understandably, Rhaenys was hesitant to offer her allegiance without her husband's consent and the question of her support remained up in the air. After only a moment, the subjects of the dragons were mentioned and Visaera's ears perked.
"We have Caraxes and Syrax. Your sons have Vermax and Arrax. Tyraxes is still too small to mount, but with Visaera claiming the Can—"
"Carrion," Visaera interjected, "His name is Carrion, and, as much as I want to avenge the theft of mother's crown, I will not be flying my newly bonded dragon into war unless there is no other choice, Daemon. Alicent and Otto are the ones responsible for this mess, they are our true enemies. Fire and blood may be our house words, but bathing the realm in it will not gain us support, only hatred."
Daemon opened his mouth to reply, but then one of the guards was hurrying into the room.
"Your Grace, a ship has been sighted offshore, a lone galleon, flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon."
"Alert the watchtowers. Sight the skies." With the command, the entirety of Dragonstone flew into chaos and Visaera's heart leaped into her throat. As firstborn and heir to the throne, Visaera accompanied Daemon down the serpentine staircase as Otto Hightower and his attachment made their way to meet them.
"I come at the behest of the Dowager Queen Alicent, mother of King Aegon, Second of his name, Lord and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms. I have been directed to deliver this message directly to Princess Rhaenyra." There was a long pause as Daemon and Visaera stared down the traitorous hand. "Where is the princess?"
With a great roar, Syrax swooped down over the crowd gathered on the dragon bridge, Otto's men ducking in fear. The yellow dragon landed on the stairs with a tremorous thud, effectively blocking their escape route, and Visaera smiled as she noted the look of surprise on Otto's face. Her mother dismounted slowly, and Visaera felt a swell of pride for the fact that her mother, who had just lost her child, kept her chin raised as she joined her husband's side.
"Princess Rhaenyra," Otto greeted.
"I'm Queen Rhaenyra now, have you not heard?" she asked, her voice thick with anger, "And you are all traitors to the realm."
"King Aegon Targaryen, Second of his name... in his wisdom and desire for peace, is offering terms." Visaera snorted and shook her head, gaining Otto's attention.
"And was it you or the Queen who suggested these terms to our... wise prince?" she asked snidely. Otto chuckled.
"T'was Aegon himself, princess, I assure you. For the love he bears for you alone, he offered these terms for your mother. Acknowledge Aegon as king and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne; in exchange, His Grace will grant you possession of Dragonstone for the rest of your days. Upon your death, it will pass to your trueborn daughter, Visaera. Jacaerys will be reaffirmed as the legitimate heir to Driftmark and all the lands and holdings of House Velaryon. Additionally, your children will all be given places of honor at court, Aegon the Younger will be the king's squire and Viserys his royal cupbearer. All of your children will be assisted in finding acceptable betrothals, while Visaera will marry Prince Aemond before the summer's end." Visaera fought the urge to snort, knowing for certain that if the terms were truly from Aegon, he would have asked for her hand himself. "Finally, the King, in his good grace, will pardon any knight or lord who has conspired against his ascent to the throne."
"I would rather feed my sons to the dragons than have them carry shields and cups for your drunken, usurper cunt of a king." While Visaera admired Daemon's pride, his insults to Aegon made her heart hurt, for she knew he never longed for the crown. As for Aemond, Visaera knew he only desired to marry her, but she still could not figure out why.
"Aegon Targaryen sits the Iron Throne; he wears the Conqueror's crown, wields the Conqueror's sword, had the Conqueror's name... He was anointed by a septon of the Faith before the eyes of the people. Every symbol of legitimacy belongs to him."
"Yes, because without your symbols and heraldry you know the people would not follow," Visaera sneered. "Aegon has no desire to rule, he never has." Otto merely smiled at her and continued...
"Then there is house Stark, Tully, Baratheon... Houses that have received, and are at present, considering generous terms offered by their king."
"As I recall, Stark, Tully, and Baratheon all swore to me when my father named me his heir."
"Stale oaths will not see you on the Iron Throne, princess. The truth is the succession changed the day your father sired a son. I only regret that you and he were the last to see the truth of it."
"You are no more hand than Aegon is king!" Rhaenyra hissed, closing the distance between them and tearing the bronze pin from his tunic. "Fucking traitor."
"Grand Maester..." A page was produced in Maester Orwyle's hands and Otto handed it to Rhaenyra. "My daughter has not forgotten the love you once shared. For your sake, and the children's, please consider our offer. No blood need be spilled and the realm will carry on in peace and prosperity."
Rhaenyra glanced at her daughter, who had clearly conveyed the cruelty the queen had subjected Visaera to. Alicent had no love for the queen and her children, it was merely part of the larger game to her.
"A Grand Maester should know the law and serve it," Rhaenyra finally said, addressing Orwyle "You are no Grand Maester. You only bring shame and dishonor to the chain you wear." With a nod of her head, two of her knights gripped his shoulders, yanked the chain from his neck, and passed it to the queen. Rhaenyra turned to her own household and bestowed the chain on Maester Gerardys.
"As for your terms," Rhaenyra added, turning to Otto, "You may tell the princes that they may come to Dragonstone and bend the knee to their Queen, along with my sweet sister, Helaena. They are of my blood and I will gladly spare their lives if they swear obeisance to their rightful Queen. If not... Tell my half-brother, Ser Otto, that I will have my throne, or I will have his head."
The words should have filled Visaera with pride, she only felt fear for her uncle, who had been given no choice in the matter, and likely had no idea what terms had been offered to Rhaenyra. Otto left with her message, lucky to still have his head on his shoulders, as Visaera and Daemon longed to remove it.
So much had happened in the span of a few hours and Visaera leaned over the Painted Table feeling completely exhausted. She needed a meal, a vial of milk of the poppy, and two days of sleep. Instead, she stood silently at Daemon's side, listening to further politicking.
When Lord Corlys joined them in the Great Hall and officially declared the fleet for Rhaenyra's cause, the room breathed a combined sigh of relief. Still, the queen refused to call the banners, insisting that they needed to know who her allies truly were before she summoned them to join the war.
"I will prepare the ravens, Your Grace," Grand Maester Gerardys declared.
"We should bear those messages..." Jacaerys offered. He had been silent nearly the entire day but now he looked his mother in the eye with determination. "Dragons can fly faster than ravens, and they are far more convincing for those who would doubt us. Send us."
"Very well." Rhaenyra finally agreed. It was quickly decided that Jace would fly north to Winterfell, Visaera to The Eeyrie, and Luke to Storm's end.
"No!" Visaera cried, as memories of her vision flashed behind her eyes, making her dizzy. She leaned against the table once more, breathing heavily as she recalled the sight of Luke flying through the torrential downpour with Aemond on his tail. "No, I will go to Storm's End. Lord Baratheon has four daughters; he will likely be sympathetic to a woman bringing him terms." Rhaenyra stared at her, unconvinced. "I fear oaths from twenty years ago may not be enough, mother. We should bring offers of marriage to the houses, as well. While I love my siblings dearly and would hate to be parted from them, marriages to the great houses would assure their loyalty."
"It's not a horrible idea..." Daemon muttered. "Luke may offer Rhaena's hand to Lady Jeyne's cousin, for I don't see the likelihood that she will sire children." Lady Jeyne Arryn was five and twenty and still unwed; it was common knowledge that her cousin would ultimately succeed her.
"As for myself, Jacaerys will offer the Lord of Winterfell my hand." Visaera hated the idea of living in the cold, barren wasteland of The North. In fact, after what had happened with her uncles, the princess loathed the idea of marrying at all, but with her mother on the throne, she was sure her husband would allow her to travel to King's Landing as often as she desired.
"Luke, in turn, would offer his hand to one of Lord Borros' daughters. In doing so, we make three marriage pacts and secure support from all three houses." Across the length of the table, Rhaenyra and Daemon stared at one another in silent conversation, until her mother finally nodded.
"Very well..."
Visaera needed rest and was allowed a few hours of sleep while preparations were made. She woke with burning eyes and an aching head but was determined to follow through with the plan. Out on the balcony, Rhaenyra spoke to her children with a solemn look on her face.
"It's been said that as Targaryens, we are closer to gods than to men, and the Iron Throne puts us a touch closer, perhaps. But... if we are to serve the Seven Kingdoms... we must answer to their gods. If you take this errand, you go as messengers... not as warriors. You must take no part in any fighting. Swear it to me now under the eyes of the Seven."
"I swear it." Jace offered first.
"I swear it." Luke agreed. Visaera was hesitant, sure of what she would find upon her arrival to Storm's end. When her mother held her gaze, she sighed and nodded.
"I swear it..."
"Thank you." Rhaenyra breathed. She addressed her oldest son, "Cregan Stark is closer to your age than to mine. I would hope, that as men, you can find some common interest."
"Yes, Your Grace." Jace agreed, clearly taking everything his mother said to heart.
"Lady Jeyne is of my blood. She will welcome you with open arms and kind words." Luke nodded and Rhaenyra kissed his forehead.
"Storm's End is a short flight from here," the queen said, turning to her eldest. "You have Baratheon blood from your grandmother, Rhaenys. And... Lord Borros is an eternally proud man. He will be honored to host the princess of the realm... and your dragon. I expect you will receive a very warm welcome. Do be careful, my love. You have only flown on Carrion once, and I worry—"
"I will be careful, Mother, Your Grace... I promise..."
"Go to it then." Rhaenyra offered with a worried smile.
As her brothers readied their saddles, Visaera adjusted her satchel and secured the dagger Daemon had given her to her thigh. She knew the flight with Carrion would not be an easy one, as she had no saddle to hold her, and yet, she didn't feel afraid. Storms End was mere hours away on dragonback and they would remain above the clouds for most of it. More importantly, she felt the bond deep within her soul and knew her dragon would do his best to keep her safe from harm.
Donning open-fingered gloves and two pairs of leathers for padding, Visaera mounted Carrion as her brothers climbed into their saddles. She had packed an extra set of clothing, just in case, and deemed herself ready for the flight to Storm's End. As they lifted off, Visaera glanced down at her father who nodded reassuringly, lending her strength and calming her nerves.
As her brothers disappeared into the skies and Dragonstone faded into the distance, Visaera's thoughts turned toward the Lord of the Stormlands, and the guest she knew she would face beneath his roof. The skies darkened and Carrion ascended above the clouds, but Visaera's mind was on Aemond Targaryen and what he would do when she arrived in Storm's End.