our little mistakes

the dance of dragons

TW: Mention of rape.

It was late in the day when Syrinx's clawed feet struck the earths of King's Landing. Caraxes, Syrax, Vermax, and Arrax were quick to follow behind, their roars piercing the area around them, the ground rumbling beneath them.

The last time Verena had stepped foot in the walls of the Red Keep had nearly been an entire year ago, and she'd committed some pretty regrettable actions. The small reminder of the bare skin of her back pressed against the bookshelf and Aemond Targaryen between her legs was enough to send her face into a deep shade of red as she began dismounting Syrinx.

Verena had spent a lot of time thinking about that night. It was like a drug–something she would turn back to when things became difficult. When nights became lonely and she only had the stars to turn to, she would find herself thinking of him. The sharp lines of his jaw taunted her, even in her dreams. Sometimes, she even convinced herself that she were waking next to him. In truth, she didn't find it in herself to care about the fact that her innocence had been taken. Rather, she cared about who had taken it.  She'd been so reckless that night, throwing herself at the first opportunity she had with a man–hadn't even thought about all the horrible things Aemond had done to her family. Gods, he'd insulted her brothers hours only before she'd fucked him.

It didn't matter how good it had been–it shouldn't have happened. She shouldn't have allowed it.

She was ashamed of herself. She'd not only dishonored herself, but also her family. If they were to find out, she wasn't sure if her brothers would ever speak to her again.

"Is everything okay, darling?" Daemon said, having appeared at Syrinx's side. His shoulder-length hair was a mess from the winds, yet he made no moves to tame it.  Verena let out a sigh once her feet reached the ground, resting her hand against her dragons wing in thanks. Syrinx purred at the contact as if she knew what Verena had meant by the action.

"Returning here feels strange," she admitted to her father, though didn't elaborate on the reasons behind her statement.

"It feels strange for me as well. You know, I lived here for a very long time when I was younger. Everytime I come back, it's like a sense of resentment and home all in one." She blinked at her father's honesty. He'd never been one to speak about his own emotions.

"All I feel is resentment," she said, watching as the Keepers emerged from the dragonpit and began ushering their dragons inside.

"We shall only be here for a short time, Verena. You will hardly have time to feel such emotions before we are heading back for Dragonstone."

Daemon smiled lightly at her as Rhaenyra came to his side, also watching as her dragon was guided inside. The two of them smiled as Caraxes leaned in a little to close to Syrax, causing the younger female to let out a growl. Verena had always wondered if Caraxes and Syrax were able to sense the bond between their riders, and, in turn, had developed a bond of their own. Her mother was insistent that Syrax loathed her father's dragon, but Verena wasn't so sure.

"When we get to the castle, immediately begin preparing yourself for tonight's celebrations," Rhaenyra announced to all of her children, smiling when they all let out a groan. "We are already running behind, my loves. Please do not give the Greens more reasons to despise us. If not for them, do this for me."

Their groans were silenced after that.

~*~

Verena felt as though she was being prepared for a royal wedding.

The servants had intricately braided her hair back in a way she'd never had done before. She had tried to memorize the way their fingers twisted and turned in her hair, attempting to learn how to do it herself, yet had become lost within the first minute. After they were done securing her hair, she was shimmed into a tight black gown, the sleeves meeting her wrists and the collar reaching slightly up her neck. It really was beautiful. The corset clung to the dips in her waist and whimsical gold accents danced themselves along the front of the bodice, as well as along the cuffs of her sleeves.