The Mummer

The Pyre

Note: Hey guys, sorry for the late update. Went home for the weekend, got busy, got distracted with deranking in Valorant.

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Silence filled her chambers. But not only her chambers, it had filled the Red Keep the rest of the day. Since the tourney had been called to and end by the Hand of the King, and mourning filled the people. The queen was dead. Aemma Arryn had laid butchered open in her birthing bed, and from her, a boy had been pulled. Prince Baelon. That had just caused confliction for the people. Should they celebrate the birth of the heir? Or be so deeply saddened by the queen's passing?

Vaelora felt like she was meant to care. She knew she was supposed. Was sadness and despair not the natural emotion she was meant to express at this moment? But, Vaelora could not find it in herself to care that her mother was dead. She recognized how wrong this was. Both her father and sister were distraught, yet she could not find it within herself to reflect their feelings. And that's what gnawed at her the most, far more than any emotion she should be feeling.

How could she not care? This was the woman who grew her within her own womb. Who had birthed her. Who had raised her. Her own mother who never seemed to fault her for any of her oddities. Yet here she was, dead.

She had tried, truly. When she had been calmly told about her mother's passing, she had forced herself to cry. She had forced herself to cry the whole day, a shock to most as the girl was mostly emotionless. Her tears did not stop until she was alone in her own chambers that night. And as quickly as they had come, they stopped. As if she controlled them, rather than them controlling her. And the tears, well, they had meant nothing to her.

In the silence of the night, she tried to grapple with this fact. She was only twelve years of age and could not comprehend the fact that she did not feel sad. Her brain told her she was meant to, but it was as if her heart simply did not care. Perhaps it had turned to stone, or rotted within her and grew blackened. Was something wrong with her? She had no negative memories of her mother. She had no reason to dislike or hate her, if anything, she only had reasons to love and cherish her. But it dawned on her then, that she did not even feel those emotions towards Aemma. Did she feel those emotions towards anyone? Was there truly anyone she held dear in her heart?

She knew she did not feel that way towards her father. No, something much darker lurked in her heart towards him. It had been there since she was able to recognize that look in his eyes when he saw her. Shame, disappointment, sadness. It had all mixed within his eyes and was casted upon Vaelora at any given moment. And it's not like she did anything to change that look. She wasn't a warm and welcoming character who you couldn't hate, no matter what they did. No, she was the opposite. Strange, cold, and aloof. Her own family hardly even knew her. She was a bundle of resentment and dismay. Her father's look resonated within her as well, those feelings pounding inside her. No, she had never given her father a reason to love her, to not be disappointed with her birth... but she was just a child. His child. Surely, he should love her despite the upsetting fact she was not born with a cock. But no, she knew she certainly did not hold any love for her father.

Perhaps her sister? Rhaenyra had never done wrong by her. In fact, Rhaenyra, during earlier years, had tried desperately to connect with her odd sister. But, when that proved fruitless, she gave up. Vaelora just felt... distant to her sister. That there was no bond. She might as well have been a stranger. A noble roaming around court. A servant who waited upon her. A knight amongst the fighters in a tournament. The two did not know each other, which was Vaelora's fault. Perhaps there truly was nothing to know about her. It was not like she had any hobbies, or secretly loved a man. No, the only things about her, she could not share. The dreams. How could she explain that to anyone? They'd think her mad. And what happened to mad princesses? She did not know... she did know the only feeling she felt towards her sister was bitterness. For, she had a dragon. Syrax, who was oh so loyal to Rhaenyra. Who had hatched in her cradle, and made her the youngest dragonrider. While Vaelora's egg laid in stone for twelve years.