Abandoned and ignored by her father, Princess Vaella remained at her mother's side. Forced to watch as life went on for those around her, while her mind tortured her. A cacophony of voices whispering of the end of House Targaryen.
Female!OC x Otto...
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The wind howled outside the walls of the Red Keep. Vaella sighed, rolling onto her side. She stared at the panes of glass, eyes watching the distant glow from the city down below. Blue eyes fluttered closed, imagining the freedom felt on the streets of King's Landing. Her lips twitched upwards, imagining how Rhaenyra would love it.
"Mummy?"
Vaella's eyes snapped open at the whisper echoing throughout her rooms. She sat up, scanning the room for any sign of disturbance.
"Hello?" She called out, slowly slipping out from between her sheets. She grabbed her dressing gown, wrapping it tightly around her as if it could protect her.
"Mummy." The voice repeated coming from the two chairs facing the fireplace.
"Who goes there?" Vaella slowly crept toward the empty chairs, moving to stand in front of the mantle. Her breath escaped in a short shriek, stumbling back until she could feel the intense heat of the flames against the back of her legs.
A head sat on one of the cushions, eyeless sockets staring back at her. Its mouth moved, lips forming words though the sound was delayed, reaching Vaella's ears late. Her arms tightened around herself, swallowing back the bile threatening to push up her throat.
"What do you want?" Vaella muttered, eyes blurring with unshed tears as she inched closer.
Half of the skull was caved in, revealing a wriggling mass of gore and maggots held within. Her stomach turned at the sight.
"Mummy," The voice changed slightly, changing pitch and growing more desperate. "Mummy! Help me!"
"Stop," Vaella begged, horrified by the vision before her. She sank down to her knees, hands pressing over her ears to stop the sound. "Please stop."
"Mummy!" The voice echoed in her mind, unstopped by the physical barrier of her hands. "Please, mum-" It grew muffled as if smothered by something. A squelching sound fills the room as thick red liquid pools beneath the head.
"Stop!" Vaella startled awake, sitting up in her bed. The air around her was still, undisturbed by what she had witnessed. She quietly slipped from between the sheets, quickly grabbing her dressing gown. She ensured it was secured before creeping out of her chambers.
The halls were dark and empty, no servants scattered around and no guards stood at their post. It was eerie how quiet it was, the only sound Vaella could hear was her own footsteps echoing off of the stone walls. As if her body was not her own Vaella found herself ascending unfamiliar stairs, venturing where she had never dared to go.
The door creaked as it swung open revealing the unknown space within. Vaella had never seen the Hand's chambers before, but she had pictured the space in the back of her mind, imagining tender moments within the tall tower's walls. She had envisioned the space tidier than its current state. Instead the settee to her right had cloaks and fur lined coats thrown haphazardly over it. The door to the Hand's private bedchambers was open, granting a view to the unmade bed within.
"Vaella," Otto said in shock, brow furrowing as he stood from his disaster of a desk. "It is late, you should be abed."
"As should you." Vaella responded, moving further into the room. She neared the settee, pressing a hand to the fine fabrics of his coats.
"I could not find sleep," Otto shared, rounding his desk. "It is improper for you to be here."
Silence was his answer as Vaella continued to admire his cloaks. Her hand brushed over dark green brocade recognizing it as the doublet he had been wearing earlier that day, Her eyes darted towards him, breath stealing in her chest as she found him dressed in a thin linen shirt tucked into his breeches. The light of the fire burning in the hearth cast a warm glow on Otto, softening his normally stoic disposition.
"Have you ever thought of taking another wife?" Vaella blurted out, her fingers tangled in front of her, fidgeting with her rings in an effort to keep her wits. "My father... he has given me leave to choose my own match, and assured me that he would honor my choice. He says that I must marry well, to find a man who will defend my claim and shore up my succession... What if that is not what I want?"
"And what, pray tell, is it that you want, Vaella?" Otto asked, he had slowly moved closer while she was speaking untold they were a hand's width apart.
Vaella stared at his chest, finding the splattering of chest hair peeking through the neckline of his shirt. Her eyes darted up to his, admiring the way his eyes gleamed like emeralds in the night. "You."
He sighed, taking Vaella's hand in his and raising them so both could see. His skin was weathered, the veins growing more visible as the years passed. He felt his age weighing heavily on him, fully aware of the aching of his joints as he studied the skin on the back of Vaella's hand, still plush with youth.
"I am old, Vaella," Otto shook his head. "Older than your father."
"I do not care."
Otto sighed though it was not one of pity or annoyance, the breath that had once been trapped under his denial left his lungs with such ease.
"I had not even considered marrying again for sometime," His hand fell from Vaella's though she tried to keep hold of it. He turned to one of the coats draped across the back of the settee, hand slipping between the fabric and retrieving a small box from some hidden pocket. "And I never would have if not for you."
The box's lid lifted open, revealing a finely crafted ring inlaid with a large sparkling emerald surrounded by smaller shining clear stones.
"Otto," Vaella gasped, eyes drawn to the way the gems shimmered in the light. "It's beautiful."
"May I?"
Vaella nodded, lifting her hand for him. He carefully slid the ring onto her finger, admiring the way it fit perfectly. His larger hand gently cradled hers, skin warm and calloused under her touch.
"Forgive me." Otto muttered, lifting her hand to his mouth and pressing a reverent kiss to the back of it. His lips lingered, beard tickling her smooth skin as his kisses trailed across her knuckles.
Her other hand raised to his cheek, tenderly stroking his cheekbone with her thumb. "I shall tell my father on the morrow."
Otto smiled, tight-lipped and pained. His chest ached with his hopes and fears for the future. "I pray he accepts the betrothal."
"He has already sworn too." Vaella assured him, breath stuttering as Otto turned to brush his lips against the heel of her palm, his other hand coming up to brace her wrist.
"My darling girl." He whispered, the words sounding like a prayer falling from his lips.
A knock interrupted the tender moment as they both pulled apart staring at the door. Otto's hand clasped over her shoulder, directing her towards his bedchambers.
"Wait here." He quietly ordered, squeezing her hand once before leaving the door ajar.
"Come." He called as he turned back to the door.
Vaella watched through the small gap as a member of the City Watch entered the Hand's chambers. Her head tilted quizzically, having never seen a gold cloak this far into the castle. Clearing his throat the young knight addressed the Hand of the King. "A messenger has arrived for you."
Otto nodded, following the city guard into the hall. Vaella waited for a moment before stepping from behind the door. She lifted her hand to her face, smiling down at the ring she now wore. Her grin did not falter or fall as she moved through the halls, finding her way back to her own chambers.
