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 kingsguard stationed outside the Small Council's chambers quickly opened the doors as the Queen and young Prince approached. Vaella nodded to the knights, taking a deep breath as her foot passed the threshold. Her gaze fell to the floor, jumping at the sight of a small furry body scurrying under her skirts. She screeched out at the feel of it crawling over her foot, pushing Baelon behind her.
"Are you alright, Your Grace?" Lyman called out.
"I-" Vaella glanced between the empty floor and the large table, forcing her racing heart to slow. "There was a rat."
Baelon's hand slipped from hers as he rushed to the empty seat closest to Alicent. The Dowager Queen smiled down at the young boy, listening attentively to his recounting of seeing Daorys and Dreamfyre flying earlier that day.
"Good morrow, my lords," Vaella greeted as she moved to her seat at the head of the table. "Alicent."
Otto's eyes followed her movements, brow furrowing as she ignored him. "Your Grace."
"What news?" Vaella asked, beginning the meeting.
"Our letters to the Vaella continue to go unanswered," Otto responded. "The Stormlands should be ours after Prince Aemond's marriage pact to the Lady Floris Baratheon. I anticipate their sworn declaration."
"Anything from Riverrun or Winterfell?" Vaella's thought drifted to her daughter. She grew more worried with each passing day, and no raven from Maelora arrived.
"No, Your Grace." The Grand Maester shook his head.
"My brother is raising the strength of the West to mass at the Golden Tooth, but we-" A small hand stretched out, snatching the Master of Ships ball. "Thank you, my prince. That's very helpful."
"My nephew, Lord Ormund, musters his forces to sally forth from Oldtown," Otto shared, motioning to the map as he spoke. "They expect to join with House Tyrell's forces at Highgarden and march quickly, meeting little resistance until they reach the Riverlands."
"My letters to Rhaenyra," Alicent asked. "Has there been any answer?"
"An apology for her dead son?" Lord Jasper muttered.
"None, Your Grace," Orwyle answered. "Between that and their blockade of the Gullet, we must presume that the princess has refused the offered terms and that war is now inevitable."
"Perhaps Your Grace might lend her voice to our outreach in hopes that new terms might be negotiated?" Alicent turned to Vaella.
"I have tried, Alicent. It is not I who needs a lecture on reaching peaceful terms."
"Stop! Enough!" Tyland chided the young Prince, attempting to steal back his ball as Baelon merely giggled in response. "Release it at once! Would someone please?"
