The blood of Old Valyria lives on still in both the Targaryens and Velaryons, and another who fits in neither category. Saerra Salt is a bastard, born out of wedlock as a result of Lord Corlys's drunken night on the Street of Silk. He takes care of...
Time is quite kind to the Salt bastard as the years fly away. Over the course of the war, she begins to prove herself as a warrior. She has a ways to go before she can come close to a knight, but the more she fights, the more she learns. Saerra takes no pleasure in taking lives and killing, but she finds honor in defending the land and protecting them from committing further chaos. She finds strength in being able to fight her own battles.
Prince Daemon seems to care more about Saerra's safety than she does. He wants to use her only if needed, and oftentimes drags her away without a single word.
Whereas Lord Corlys couldn't care less. Would it be seen as odd that his bastard daughter died in battle? Sure. But would it also spare him the headache of dealing with the girl? Absolutely. The bargain he struck with the Prince fades into the back of his mind, for he truly just does not care for the bastard girl. Her life is inconsequential in his mind.
After three years of fighting, morale becomes quite low. The soldiers are tired, beaten, and homesick. They stand on a cliff where camp has been made, covered in dirt and ash. Saerra stands behind the table with the map where the men gather, for it is not her place to speak up. Her hair is pulled back, she has dried blood on her neck and shoulder. Her once frail arms have grown the slightest bit of muscle and her bone structure is more defined. She is physically stronger, though her mental strength still needs room to grow. She is getting used to speaking her mind, but will never dare to speak in the presence of her Uncle Vaemond.
Daemon soon returns from battle, bringing a gentle smile to Saerra's face. The Prince is approached by a messenger, of whom carries a letter from the King.
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Daemon is quite good at keeping his emotions hidden, but this time, he lets his emotions drive him to beat the messenger, where he nearly dies from the punches of the Prince. Saerra rushes to pull Daemon off of the poor man, but he doesn't even acknowledge her. Instead, Daemon sets off on his own journey, with his own plan. He decides then and there that it is he who will win the war... not his brother.
