Daydreams and Passageways

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Visaera Targaryen sighed for the second time in less than a minute and released the messy braid that she had been making in her hair. Combing her fingers through it to separate the curls, she tried not to wince when they met a tangle and snagged, painfully tugging on her scalp.

She had been listening to Septa Brinna drone on about the histories for the better part of an hour and was long past paying any attention. At eleven years of age, she had nothing more important happening than her lessons, but she couldn't focus. She could never focus for very long...

While Helaena listened intently, Visaera daydreamed and wondered what her brothers were doing; why their duties were far less academically-inclined than hers. It had been that way for as long as she remembered and, the older she got, the more she hated being a girl in a man's world.

Outside, the sun was shining down on the courtyard; the hedges bathed in the warm, golden light of the afternoon. The slight breeze was just enough to push the fresh air in through the windows, along with the sweet scents of the flowers only one floor below. A little brown bird landed on the ledge and Visaera stared at it, longing to be the bird; to be free to flit about the gardens and bask in the sunshine. So lost in her thoughts was she, that she didn't notice her Septa rising and crossing the room until she slammed the book closed only inches from Visaera's startled face. The princess had the decency to look embarrassed that she was caught daydreaming, once again.

"You're awfully quick to distraction today, princess," Septa Brinna said sternly, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"Yes, Septa," Visaera murmured apologetically; shooting one more look of longing at the little bird before it took flight once more, enjoying the freedom Visaera longed to have herself. Septa Brinna rolled her eyes, sighed, and then shook her head.

"It's well after midday; you may go, child." Visaera instantly brightened at the prospect of spending time outdoors before supper.

"Thank you, Septa!" Only a second later, she was out the door, sprinting through the corridors and out into the yard. The sunlight made her squint as she hurried out into the gardens, tossing herself into the grass and rolling over. She could feel the tiny blades piercing through the silk of her gown and knew her skin would surely itch later; she didn't care. Her eyes fell closed as she bathed in the sunshine, basking in the warmth of the rays.

"Niece," Aegon greeted, plopping himself down in the grass beside her. A smile stretched across her face at the sound of his voice, but her eyes remained closed.

"Uncle," she greeted happily. The prince didn't say anything else, he merely watched Visaera in silence. Even though she was only eleven years of age, thirteen-year-old Aegon thought Visaera was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. She had long, soft curls of starlight and fiery violet eyes; a perfect creation. Surely, he thought, she was made by the gods to torment him. "You're quiet today," she offered, her eyes still closed against the afternoon sun. When her uncle only hummed in response, she finally blinked against the light and looked at him.

He stared adoringly at her and pulled a tendril of hair between his fingers, enjoying the way it coiled up when he released it. Aegon pulled her up from the grass, her elbows nestled in his lap, and began to intricately plait her hair. It was something he did for only her, despite the many times she had seen Helaena ask, and Visaera briefly wondered where he had learned to braid.

Silence lingered between them but it wasn't uncomfortable. The princess merely closed her eyes once more, absorbing the sounds and smells around her. Autumn was in the air but the warm weather conveyed otherwise; the birds sang and the flowers continued to bloom as though the summer was never going to end. In fact, Visaera hoped it never would...

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