A Dance Of Blood And Water

THREE

On the morning of Laena's funeral, alys rembered being unfathombly reminded of her fathers death. Not only had there been a war she had lived through without him, but she also felt the grief of those around her. Jaecrys and Lucerys mourned the loss of their auntie with much care, and the heir princess Rhaenyra was deeply saddened. Whether it was all for show, or a ruse, alys knew what bereavement had felt like, and it had also been her mission to ensure a place in the house in which she now found herself situationed in.

Before the journey to driftmark, alys had been forced to dress in black, with the maids all watching her as she clothed herself. There was a sense of awkwardness in the air. Within the castle of kings landing, within the family that had called it home. Alys was a mere outsider, looking on through a tinted glass. Green or black? She was not so sure. Already the factions had begun to rise, and prince aemonds comments on the night of her fathers death had stuck deeply with her.

'You must become a member of the house of dragons now Alys, that is what a bastard like you must do to survive.'

Inherently, alys knew the young boy meant well, but she was also aware he was no longer one to jest. He hated bastards, he hated her. It was as clear as the sky on the morning he had refused to train with his bastard nephews. His distaste alys pondered had been spoon fed to him by his mother and grandfather. The queen always had disliked alys. She would scorn whenever aemond or aegon where found near her quarters, she was punished for the others jokes towards the second son. She knew that clearly, it was her who had caused aemond to hate bastards with such a passion, but she was also his only friend. It was the late night visits to his chambers, watching him train with low effort, the smiles shared as they passed each other in the hallways of the castle, Alicent had saw it all and poisoned Aemond's mind. Alys wasn't sure if she should feel guilty, or honoured that she; a girl of only fourteen years held so much power.

As she dressed, and embarked on the journey to driftmark, alys wasn't sure if this newfound power was a curse or a gift. She felt firecoursing through her veins. In the end she was not a Targaryen but she could control the flames spouting from within the family who controlled Kings Landing and Westeros. She had the power of influence, and even today, mourn the loss of someone she had never had the privilege to meet, alys was included in the families remarks.

Rhaenyra had informed the girl of Laena's death, the unsuccessful birth. Alys questioned the princess if the babe resting in the stomach of Laena had killed the woman but rhaenyra had only rebutted the inquiry.

Once again, Alys was reminded of her supposed brothers, Jace, Luke and now Joffrey. How they shared the same father but they were dragon riders, vast and full of wealth. One day she hoped the boys would recognise her as their sisters and welcome her with open arms as the princess too had done, but she knew rhaenyra had only kept her close because she reminded her of Ser harwin.

Love had always been a funny thing to alys. She wasn't sure if he had felt it or ever would. Thinking of aemond and their friendship, wondering if he had truly grown into a monster, but wondering why he would leave her cryptic clues in order to survive.

The boat ride was unwavering and windy, Alys accompanied rhaenyra but she did not feel she had a place. There was something looming in the air, she knew perhaps that this journey would be the last she ever took with the princess.

Would they leave her on driftmark? Would they abandon her altogether. All she knew that alys could predict with her own two eyes that this journey was building up to something truly despicable. As those flames within her grew, she felt draw to the family who had once accepted her, but for a more lesser reason.

'The king has requested a bucket,' Aserver girl looked towards rhaenyra and she sighed, the babe Joffrey in her arms. 'He is not a well man,' she loooked to laenor who simply stared at the ground, Luke sitting at his feet as his hair was blown by the wind.