𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 -

- PROLOGUE -

Jon Arryn had survived the mad king, When Aerys targaryen had demanded that he hand over Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark, Jon Arryn had refused, casting his hand into roberts rebellion and declaring that The Vale would no longer recognize Targaryen rule. If Thalina Arryns father had survived that, she could only question how she was now staring down at his corpse displayed in the great sept of Baelor. 

The painted stones placed upon her fathers stared back up at her, the cold air blowing throughout the sept's towering ceiling presented itself as the only sound to fill the silence. She had seen many corpses throughout her life, watched as the crows picked at rotted flesh when she had travelled through the kingsroads; the tourneys she had attended had given her a more then adequate idea of what it looked like when a mans head was separated from his body. Yet now, staring down at her fathers corpse, almost looking indistinguishable from a deep sleep, there was a greater disturbance then she had expected.

Perhaps it was the feeling of seeing somebody who you had known so closely, she wondered if those same corpses along the kingsroad had been that of her brother, or mother, that she might have felt a deeper feeling of distress.

As deeply lost in her thoughts as she had been, the bellowing echoes of the sept of baelor's doors being swung open was enough to break her from her trance.

Unsure of the figure who had appeared, the light from outside blocking any distinguishable detail, she took a step away from her fathers display, concerned for a brief moment that one of the septa's may be arriving to tell her off for being in the sept before her fathers service.

Though the light the had come through from outside had initially caused the figure to remain hidden by shadow as they began to descend down the steps of the sept, the wisps of golden hair that began to appear had been more then an enough for Thalina to gather that it was the queen quickly approaching her, her green eyes already trained upon her as she grew closer.

From the very moment Jon Arryn had brought his daughter to Kings Landing from The Eyrie, she had been able to sense the danger that was so carefully hidden under the towering castle and the fanfare of the newly elected King Robert. 

A crown now placed upon the head of the man who had buried all hope of House Targaryens reign continuing when he had taken Rhaegar's life at the battle of the trident. 

Though young, Thalina had still stood at the rails of her chambers within the keep and watched fire's burning in fleabottom, the Targaryen banners stomped into the mud as the smallfolk cheered for the death of the Mad King, even if by the hand of his own kingsguard. It had seemed the smallfolk held little regard for how the crown might have landed on Roberts head, only that they could now celebrate being freed from the grip of a tyrant. 

She had heard the rumors of any bastard of King Aerys ii unlucky enough to have not left kingslanding being torn to shreds by the crowds, beaten against the walls or raped by lannister soldiers before they slit their throats, all for the crime of being born with silver hair. Any tie's to the Targaryens was severed. 

As far as the tale that was weaved by the courts and trickled down to the smallfolk, Robert had buried House Targaryen, that was what they had celebrated, the downfall of the once powerful dragon lords of Old Valyria. 

Yet, when she had walked through the halls of the red keep in her nightgown, her bare feet pattering silently against the cold stone in the dead of night, she had pressed her ear upon the door of the small chamber, the crack of light illuminating her face, it was then that she had heard Roberts angered demands, had heard the sound of his fist colliding with the wooden table below. 

Find them. Find Aerys' children. 

It was at the age of only five, Thalina Arryn had learnt the value of listening at doors, and the ability to learn the secrets that not dare be said out loud.