𝙺𝙰𝙻𝙾𝙽 ° aemond targaryen

Act One, Scene One

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"𝙼𝚒𝚛𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚔 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝"
𝟷𝟷𝟸 𝙰𝙲 - 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝙺𝚎𝚎𝚙
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THE WIND BLEW HARSHLY AT the woman's dark hair as she walked through the streets, clutching a bundle of cloth to her chest as she maneuvered herself through the crowds. Her thin dress did little to block out the cold as the sun was almost gone behind the horizon; the only covering she has against the chill of night was keeping her baby warm.

Her feet padded on the stones as she rushed forwards, trying to keep herself upright enough to make it to her destination, where the high towers loomed in the near distance.

Guards posted outside the gates halted her upon her arrival to the Red Keep, halting her movements. The woman swayed at her sudden stop, the blisters on her feet aching.

"State your business." One of the men demanded, his hand on the hilt of his sword as he took a few steps forwards.

Her tired and weary eyes lifted to meet his, though it was hard to see under his helm under the cover of night. "I need...to see the king." The woman's voice was hoarse from lack of use, or it could be the sickness slowly consuming her. "It regards...my child."

The knight, ever curious, approached the raggedy girl, his eyes glancing down to the bundle she held in her arms, silently asking the question that she knew the answer to.

With a shaking hand, she pulled the blanket away from the babe's face, their small nose scrunching up as the cold breeze hit their pale skin. Little tuffs of hair could already be seen atop their head.

"Commander?" The other guard questioned as he saw the man freeze as the child was revealed to him. He wasn't sure how a child could shake the man so much.

"Summon His Grace to the Great Hall at once," The commander spoke, his voice powerful, yet his eyes never left the babe curled into their mother's chest, yearning for more warmth.

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Viserys was curious as to why he was summoned by one of his Kingsguard, early into the evening as he dined on his supper beside his lady wife. Hence, in a timely manner, made his way towards the Great Hall.

He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting when the large doors were opened, but he for certain was surprised when he saw a young woman standing before the steps that led up to the deadly throne.

The stranger whirled around as the groaning of the old doors was heard, her dark curls spinning around her like a fan. Upon seeing His Grace, she was quick to drop into a bow, never relinquishing her hold on the cloth she had in her arms.

"Your Grace," Her voice was scratchy, worn from the exhaustion she was clearly feeling. "I didn't mean to disturb you at such late of an hour, but the matter was urgent."

The white haired man made his way towards her, a kind smile gracing he features. "Rise, my lady," He said gently, stepping around her to take a place on the stairs, looking down at her. "So tell, though, what brings you here."

The woman hung her head down, glancing at the bundle in her arms before finally looking up to face the king. There were deep, purple bags on the sickly pale skin of her face. Her lips, chapped and dry, were nearly the same color as the Targaryen's hair. To put it simply, her looked like death was on her doormat.

"If it were not already clear, Your Grace," She hesitated before speaking the next words. "I am dying. I fear I won't live to see the next moon. It would leave my daughter with no one."

Viserys cast his eyes down to look at the bundle, which he now knew protected a small babe from the chill that the night brought. Though, her words still confused him. "And why come to me, my lady?"

A bump in her throat bobbed as she swallowed thickly, her eyes never leaving the king's. "I came to you because she should be with her family. Her blood."

The air tasted stale as the king sucked in a breath, his brows pinching together even further as his purple eyes once again casted down towards the cloth. With slow movements, he made his way down the steps and towards the woman, whose name he did not know.

His hand reached up and pushed the fabric aside. He was instantly met with light, violet colored eyes staring up at him behind short lashes. Eyes so similar to the orbs of the boy he grew up with, now off on an adventure who knows where. His suspicion was only fueled more by the small strange of white, icy hair clinging to her head.

"Daemon?" He found his voice after a moment passed between the two, his eyes lifting to meet the sunken ones of the young lady, who merely nodded solemnly. "And what is your name?"

"Mira, Your Grace. Mira of Silk Street."

"The Street of Silk?" The king questioned, though he held no surprise in his tone. He knew of his brother's antics whenever he was in the capitol; though, he was surprised that it took this long for one of his escapades to come to light.

"Yes, Your Grace." Mira swallowed thickly, trying to ease the pain in her throat as she looked up at the man standing before her. "I just want her to be raised with family, not in one of those orphanages in the city that hold far too many children. She's merely a fortnight old and I know how they treat the babes there."

At her words, the man knew he couldn't let that happen. The girl was his family. The daughter of his brother. The blood of the dragon. He couldn't let her be raised by anyone else.

"I assure you, Lady Mira," He spoke, his hand resting gently on the girl's shoulder. "Your daughter will be raised with all the love she shall require."

A small smile tilted at the corner of her lips, her eyes down casting onto her daughter. If she had any more energy left in her, the woman would cry at the thought of leaving her daughter, but she simply couldn't.

Instead, Mira leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the babe's head, feeling her heart break as she pulled away. The bundle was passed in a delicate manor to the older man, who accepted his niece with welcoming arms.

Viserys was so mesmerized by the child that he didn't notice the sickly woman had left his side until she was already across the hall, her hand placed on the door. "My lady?" He called out, causing the woman to stop and look at him. "What's her name?"

Another smile so quick appeared on her face that the king was sure he would've missed it had he not kept his eyes on her, waiting.

"Vaella, Your Grace," She answered simply. "Vaella Waters." And with that, she was gone into the cool breeze of the night.

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