Cirilla was a girl bedevilled. All her life, she'd been plagued with terrible nightmares of fire and blood. But as she twisted and turned and burned, Daemon Targaryen smelt the smoke and smiled.
daemon targaryen x fem!oc
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𝕳IGH TIDE WAS DESERVING of its name.
The waves that crashed and thundered against the rocks below were giants, knights of the Merling King himself. They pounded against the foundations of the castle like incessant drums. It had been quite something to become accustomed to again, having only heard the rare pigeon or rabble in King's Landing.
It had been nearly three years since the night Ciri had instigated her family's self-exile from the capital. Three years since Viserys announced his intention to marry Alicent Hightower. Three years since Rhaenyra and Alicent's friendship began to fray and unravel. Three years since Corlys decided his house had been scorned one too many times. Ciri had barely time to say her farewells. The princess had hurtled down the steps to embrace her before they left, Laena as well. They did not speak, they did not cry, they just stood there. Intertwined.
Both girls had an awful feeling they were leaving Rhaenyra utterly alone. Though Laena suspected Ciri had something to do with the sudden change in Viserys' decision, she never brought up the matter. Not once. Perhaps she didn't want to acknowledge that Ciri was not the perfect girl Laena had created inside her head. Perhaps some things were better left untouched. Undefiled.
In less than a year, tidings of Alicent's birth to Aegon Targaryen II reached their halls. Many held their breath, expecting for him to be named heir. But Viserys, to his credit, did not budge. Rhaenyra and Ciri had exchanged letters over the time they'd been apart. The former divulged the happenings at court, while the latter informed her on the battle in the Stepstones. For that was what preyed on her family of late.
Corlys and Daemon, the nation's second sons, had struck up an alliance. Ciri remembered waking up one morning to hear the prince himself was in their very halls, on her step-father's invitation. She'd stayed confined in her chambers until he left. If anyone in her family thought it strange, they did not comment.
What once were whispers festered into a raging war. Bloodshed blossomed like the first flower of spring. Born out of a torrent of rain and thunderous nights. Driftmark was soon deserted by nearly all its men. They donned armour too heavy for their spines and dropped their family names to become soldiers. They would not be seen as anything more than a clone of the man beside them. Only children, elderly, and servants remained.
Corlys' absence left a gaping hole in Rhaenys' chest. To her, it was the past repeating itself. She and her children were alone in a chamber while her husband fought valiantly outside. Ciri prayed every night, kneeling on the cold stone floor, for his safe return. She did not know if her mother could cope if he did not. Matters were made worse for both of them when Aedion joined the war efforts. Without the backing of Casterly Rock and the Lannister Fleet—for they were still very much loyal to the Crown—he did not contribute the amount of men he would've liked. But he had a debt to settle. No shackles could keep him from claiming it.
