¹ 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 ━━ 𝐝. 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

x. a woman's equal

✧˖° 🌑 ೄྀ࿐
━ [   SONG OF SORROWS   ] ༉‧₊˚✧
x. act one... the dragon's daughter
a woman's equal ━ ✩・*。

— AUTUM, 112 A.C
RED KEEP, KING'S LANDING

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     SPRING, just as the newborn growth it brought, had died, bringing forth the desolating touch of autumn, an antecedent to the eventual bite of winter. Months had waned, each as dull as the last, chalked full of politicking and self-imposed isolation on Valerys' part. Many an hour had she spent, locked away in the silent confines of her chambers, dutifully avoiding most everyone who attempted to bring forth yet another prospective suitor. At the age of five and ten ( although her name day was swiftly approaching ), Valerys hadn't even come of age, and was much less excited at taking a husband than her younger sister was.

    Marriage was a trap, draining all of the remaining freedom one had left, and for Valerys, that was a dwindling reserve. For men, it was much less a life sentence, as they were free do bed whom they wanted with little regard for their wives, never tied down by the same precedents that women had to abide by. Take her damned uncle, for example, a man who had been wed for a near ten years, yet took a new whore with each passing day. For women, it was entombing, forever shackled to the childbed. Valerys had seen firsthand what men's desires could wrought, and she did not wish to meet the same fate as her mother.

    Being heir meant looking past her own wants, putting the burden of the realm atop her own shoulders, casting aside all she had to provide stability for a kingdom that would slice her down if given the chance. Cruel as it was, Valerys had spent near six months mulling the idea over in her head, finally accepting it for what it was. Her path was one shrouded in uncertainty, and one she had willingly chose to walk alone.

    Even as a child, she had been made to sit in with the Small Council, absorbing every little detail that would eventually aid in her adult life as either an important member of the court, or a wife sold to the wealthiest bidder. Never had it been in preparation of future ruling, and now that it was, Valerys felt the situation all the more dire.

     "Ser Ryam was a strong Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. But he was ill for some time," came her father's intruding voice, snapping Valerys' train of thought and unfortunately dragging her back into her current reality. "He passed in peace, I hope."

    From her seat beside the King, Valerys roved her fingers over the black marble ball in front of her. "Yes, Your Grace. He was found to have passed gently in his sleep," said Grand Maester Mellos, a man whom Valerys held a deep, spirited resentment for. He had been the monster who ordered her mother's death. "His remains are being prepared by the Silent Sisters. The succeeding Lord Commander, Ser Harrold, would like to make haste in finding Ser Ryam's replacement on the Kingsguard."

    From the corner of her sights, Valerys could see Rhaenyra weave about the lords encircling the table, a pitcher of wine grasped between shaking fingers. She smiled for it; Valerys had conditioned with her father, if she was to sit in with the Council, Rhaenyra would be permitted to serve as cupbearer. Nothing more than a trivial attempt at some comfort in an unwelcome environment, but it worked all the same.

     "Your Grace, My lords," acknowledged Ser Harrold, a man whom Valerys could say she was fond of. As a child, he would accompany her around the gardens, explaining each bout of foliage in depth. "The Kingsguard must soon be restored to its full complement of seven. With the help of the Hand, I've invited a number of fine candidates to court. All have passed fair trials."