Vaera Targaryen, the Dragon Bound

Out with the old, in with the new

Four years later

Vaera sat down on a dusty chair in an even dustier corner of the library of the Red Keep, writing letters. She had asked all the maesters and septas to leave her alone, she wanted to write to her acquaintances in silence, without being disturbed.

She had just put her quill into the ink pot when she heard someone opening the door, "I said I do not want to be disturbed!" she said exasperated, "Get out!" she ordered, she heard indeed the door closing again but she heard steps as well, steps getting closer and closer ... if it had been Ser Criston he would have announced himself, he always did, or asked whether she was there – or even better, he would have knocked on the door first.

She kept still on her seat but slowly reached down her calf to feel her dagger. The paces were now so close she swore she should have seen someone already, then a long and slender shadow appeared, "Sister" she heard, Aemond's voice. She sighed relieved and let go of the dagger and grabbed her quill. Then she saw him, tall, towering even, sturdy – the worst part was that his voice had changed a few years back, then the person he was truly had gone. The sweet boy she knew died when he had turned thirteen and Aegon had brought him to the Street of Silk.

"I asked not to be disturbed" she repeated herself, he curled his lips, "Who are you writing to?" asked Aemond taking curiosity in her letters, "No one, just some old acquaintances" she answered vaguely rushing to pile the scraps of parchments together. He snatched one out of her hands, it was the letter from Lord Stark, "Dear Vaera – first name bases?" he said bitterly as he started to read, "Aemond! That's private" she urged him, "I wonder whether there has been any development from our last encounter, if so I urge you –'' he stopped but she remembered the contents of that letter perfectly ... to tell me at once so we can go on like we were meant to do seven years ago.

Aemond looked at her shocked and bottled up. Vaera snatched the piece of parchment back and threw it in the fire behind her, together with all the other pieces and returned to look at her brother who seemed to be raging inside.

"When you said you had fun up North I didn't think you meant you slept with Cregan Stark" he said with contempt, still like a stone. She hesitated but knew she couldn't keep it a secret any longer, she hesitated a moment, opening her mouth and closing it again before saying, "For the first time, I was free. I tasted freedom in the North, there was no one that needed me perfect all the time, I could laugh, I could joke and drink and –'' "And what, you liked freedom so much you opened your legs?!" he insinuated with a mixture of hatred and disgust in his voice. Vaera slapped him right across the face, how dared he? He didn't even flinch, he just closed his eye and opened it slowly again.

She tried to walk past him, out of there – she did not need to give him an explanation – but he blocked her, his arms were strong enough to lift her from the ground now, they had been for quite some time.
She kept her head down, looking at the collar of his light black coat.

"Did he hurt you? Did he force you?" he asked, he did not know whether to root for her being assaulted so he would have someone to blame, he did not want to learn how it was to feel that she had voluntarily chosen to have sex with that man.

"He didn't" she whispered, she heard him snort slightly, just under his breath. She looked up and saw him shattered; if his sapphire eye could mimic how he was feeling inside she swore she would have heard it break. She tried to reach for his face, she wanted to console him although she knew she was the one that had hurt him; he grabbed her hand before she could touch his skin. He looked away and said under his breath, "You say no to me but yes to him?", his voice was so cold and sorrowful, she almost didn't hear him. She sighed, how could she hurt him so? She felt like the worst human being ever.