ੈ✩‧₊˚ In which Lyanna Stark and Robert Baratheon did have a daughter; Nadia Baratheon. But bastards don't hold a claim to the throne. Especially when they're born a woman.
And now that her father is gone and the problematic family that is the L...
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𓆩∘ ₊˚ˑ𐂂༄ؘ꙳𓆪 Chapter 7: The way you see me ────────────────
NADIA BARATHEON
━━━ MY HANDS are neatly placed on the white concrete while the sky begins to paint a warm tint. And I find myself relishing it the same way I do most mornings. Though It is unknown to me how long I've stood here awaiting the sunrise.
Nyra is fast asleep on the comfortable bed handed to us, I—as always— am unable to close my scorching eyes. How many hours has it been since I last slept? I can't even remember.
I look at the city of Meereen welcoming me from below. The Unsullied seem to roam every inch of it at every moment. More so than when I first arrived here four days ago. It is probably only a coincidence.
Although I would not put it past the queen to become more cautious. Believe that if I came along what's stopping Jaime or even Tyrion from showing up on the docks?
That reminds me, I must send a raven to The Red Keep ask for Uncle Tyrion and his trial by combat. Along with my stepbrother's and Margaery's well-being. I feel so selfish whenever I think about any of them. To acknowledge I've left them to avoid a marriage.
I stop my hands from reaching the rolled-up note on the short golden table as a the crude question took over me again.
Why would Daenerys Targaryen allow me to speak with my family—her enemy— at all? The note could consist of plans to revoke her or share her vulnerable spots. And overall bonding with my family as they've tried to take her life multiple times is not the best way to earn her trust. She barely even likes me as it is.
I have been glued in between this war ever since it started. But this was different. At least when I was held in The Red Keep I had Sansa, Tyrion, and Tommen. But here in Meereen I am with nobody I know.
Except Nyra of course. She seemed to be the only permanent thing in my life.
I think for a moment. I don't have a raven of my own, but perhaps I could pay someone to do the job for me. A thing I have learned, there will always be someone willing to do anything for coins.
I rapidly grabbed one of the many small vases used to hold candle wax. One I had seen earlier on the table and easily slip it under my dress and on the side of my garments while the letters are folded and hidden on the neckline of my dress. With determination and an uncomfortable feeling in my hips, I head for the door. My hands unlocking it before stepping out cautiously.
