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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A bell tolled in the distance as thousands poured into the dragonpit. Vaella softly counted each ring to herself, trying to distract herself from the ceremony. Her fingers itched to pick at her dress though she restrained herself, not wishing to ruin the ornate beading of her gown. The green brocade parted at her shoulder and waist, revealing the golden kirtle she wore underneath. Her hand fell to the gold girdle at her waist, straightening the jeweled clasps holding it closed.
"People of King's Landing," Otto shouted from outside the passageway Vaella was hidden in. "Today is the saddest of days. Our beloved King, Viserys the Peaceful, is dead."
The crowd murmured at the Hand of the King's words.
"But it is also the most joyous of days," Otto continued. "For as he wished, his eldest child and firstborn daughter, Princess Vaella shall succeed him."
Applause filled the giant room at the Hand's words. Vaella watched as gold cloaks marched out from the hall and into the crowd, creating a walkway to the stage. Horns sounded as the guards raised their swords.
"Beware the beast. The beast. The beast." Vaella whispered to herself as she stepped into view.
She took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders as she moved down the stairs. Swords glinted overhead, though they were quickly lowered as she passed.
"It is your great good fortune and privilege to be here to witness," Vaella stared up at Otto as she neared the dais, listening to the words that poured from his lips with such pride. "A new day for our city, a new day for our realm. A Queen to lead us."
His eyes met hers as she climbed the steps to the stage, nodding as he stepped back so only she stood in the center. Her gaze swept over her children and siblings, drifting past Alicent and the Small Council.
"Do not fear the beast," She murmured, dropping to her knees in front of the septons. "Do not fear. Do not fear."
The septon moved to stand in front of her, a small golden bowl held tightly in the holy man's hands. Her fists clenched at her sides to stop the shaking.
"May the Warrior give her courage. May the Smith lend strength to her sword and shield. May the Father defend her in her need. May the Crone lift her shining lamp and light her way to wisdom." With every sentence the Septon smeared oil on her forehead.
A circlet of Valyrian steel inlaid with rubies was placed into Ser Criston's hands by the Septon. The knight stepped before Vaella, lifting the crown up into the air. "The crown of the Conqueror passed down through generations."
Vaella recalled the day she had named Ser Criston to the kingsguard, of the blood she had seen dripping from his fingertips and how he had held this very crown out to her. She tensed as the circlet was placed on her head
"Let the Seven bear witness: Vaella Targaryen is the true heir to the Iron Throne." Criston spoke, allowing his voice to carry throughout the room.
The Septon's hand stretched out, helping Vaella back onto her feet. The crown was heavy atop her head, her neck straining under the unfamiliar weight. Blue eyes swept over her family watching as they each bowed to her. Helaena's gaze met hers briefly before falling away. Her brows raised and drew together, eyes wide.
Vaella turned to where Otto stood on her other side. Her head tilted slightly, waiting. Otto's lips pulled up into a smile as he bowed to his wife and Queen.
"All hail Her Grace, Vaella, first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." The High Septon announced as Vaella turned to face the crowd.
Applause and cheers rippled across the dragonpit, echoing off the domed ceiling. She swallowed deeply, staring out at the small folk.
"Screaming, dying, innocent." She muttered.
"Vaella the Queen!" The small folk cheered. "Long live Vaella!"
The floor of the dragon pit erupted. Dust filled the air darkening the space as large stones rained down on the crowd. A dragon's roar was heard over the screaming as the small folk attempted to flee. The Red Queen's large head peeked through the cloud of dust, approaching the stage. Vaella whistled sharply, listening as a familiar low voice sung back from the deep recesses of the dragon pit.
"Open the doors!" Otto screamed as the City Watch attempted to close them, trapping the frightened small folk.
Vaella stepped forward as Meleys lumbered closer, lifting her head to stare up at where Rhaenys sat in her saddle. The ground shook more as a large maw appeared over the dais's canopy. Scaled lips pulled back revealing rows of sharp teeth as the Pale Phantom heeded his rider's call.
Rhaenys's eyes widened at the sight of the once small albino now as large as a dragon hatched during the conqueror's reign. Vaella waited with bated breath as Meleys reared back, watching as Rhaenys steered the dragon towards the doors. Daorys roared as Meleys slipped through the open doors and lifted into the sky.
She sighed, body sagging in relief. Though it was short lived when a sharp cry of pain sounded from behind her. She rushed forward at the sight of Aemma slumping down to the floor, her hands grasping at her swollen stomach.
"Aemma." Vaella gasped.
"What do we do?" Aegon asked, his arms wrapped around his wife as he tried to pull her into him. "She can't have the babe here? What if something goes wrong?"
"Help her to her feet," Vaella interrupted Aegon's fretting, turning to the guards. "We need to return to the Keep now. Prepare the wheelhouse."
AN: Super short cause I was gonna have more to this chapter but I ended up deciding to split it into the start of part five.
