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 midday sun warmed Vaella's back as it streamed through the large windows of the Small Council's meeting chambers. She felt odd sitting at the head of the table, occupying the seat her father had had for so many years. She glanced at where Ser Harrold stood, having finished giving his account.
"And if Princess Rhaenyra denies the offer? What then?" Lord Tyland pointed out.
"We must declare war against the pretender." Lord Jasper insisted.
Vaella stared at the empty space on her hand where her mother's ring had sat for less than a day. She had hoped by sending it that Rhaenyra would be reminded of their shared blood and that she would finally heed Vaella's warnings and set aside her injured pride for the good of the realm.
"War must be avoided," Lyman argued. "Whatever its intent, the cost is too great."
"The intent of war is to fill graveyards, Lord Beesbury. The trick is to put more of their men in the ground than your own." The Master of Laws asserted.
"What is our standing?" Vaella asked, tearing her eyes away from her bare finger.
"We have forty knights, one hundred and twenty crossbowmen, and two thousand men-at-arms," Otto informed. "The wall is well-manned, and with Vhagar flying overhead, they would be foolish to come."
Vaella nodded. She glanced at the large standing maps that had been brought in, seeing the pins differentiating her allies from enemies had yet to be placed. "Have any houses declared for her?"
"Velaryon, Celtigar, Staunton, Massey, Darklyn, and Bar Emmon. All houses sworn directly to Dragonstone, Your Grace." A servant pressed black pins into the location of each castle.
"The late Queen was an Arryn," Lord Tyland stated. "The Vale will not turn cloak against their own kin."
"Rhaenyra is as much Lady Jeyne's blood as I," Vaella dismissed the suggestion. "She did not swear fealty to me, but she did attend Rhaenyra's wedding. So did many other lords and ladies of the realm. To many I abdicated as Princess of Dragonstone, and gave up my claim to the throne."
"Your father reaffirmed your position as heir upon your return."
"I'm aware," Vaella sighed leaning back in her seat to stare at the map. "What of Storm's End and Winterfell?"
"There has never lived a Stark who forgot an oath. And with House Stark, the North will follow." The Grand Maester answered.
"Rhaenyra will see that as well." Vaella muttered under her breath. Before her eyes pins danced across the map, changing color and positions as the war played out.
"Talk of men is moot," Lord Jasper proclaimed, stealing Vaella's attention away from the map before she could see the end. "Your house has dragons."
"Rhaenyra as well. More dragons reside on Dragonstone than here in King's Landing." Vaella contended, her head ached with each argument the council presented.
