Viserra Targaryen always knew she didn't belong. Didn't belong among her siblings, among her family, in the world in which she lived. She knew that her name would not be written in the history books. After all, even with the name Targaryen she was no one. Rumour and whisper rendering her insignificant and truth burried. So she accustomed to a life in the shadows, hidden away and always silent. Doing her best to keep attention, and with it the questions, away from herself and her family. But while one plans, the gods look from up above and they laugh... For in truth, fate has bigger plans for the forgotten princess. Ones which would make her step out of the shadows as her world is thrown into chaos. Ones which would make her choose between blood and family. Ones that may cost her everything...

Dread coiled and turned to solid stone in his gut. It Weighed him. Weighed each step toward his dressing table. There, the source of his sleepless nights rested. The Glass Candle. It was burning. A starry, pale white flame flickered above the twisted black glass. He stopped but a pace away from the flame. Still close enough to feel the cold flame licking at his face. Turning his nerves in a way that made his skin crawl. A sickening feeling. The chilling burn of its glow sank back into the root of his bones. He couldn't stop it from growing. From becoming the monster he swore would never fall upon him again. Fear. His lips parted. A ragged breath rushed in. That fear swelled in his chest. He could not breathe in or out. Could not think clearly from the endless barrage of questions striking in his mind. Millions he wanted answered, and millions more he didn't. He feared what would answer. What lived in the pale white light... What lived beyond it? Could they be trusted? The most frightening question of all shrieked louder than all others in his mind. So loud he winced. So loud he could not stop himself from asking... "...What do you want from me?" He stood in the silence. It blanketed him like falling snow. He stared into the weepy white flame. Its icy barbs impaling him slowly from the inside out. Then sinking into his bones over again. A breeze trickled into his bedchamber. It's chill clawed at him from behind. From the opposite direction of his window. Her voice seeped into him like the sharp white flame burning at his back. "What does anything anywhere want? Does the seed not want to grow? Does the river wish not to flow? Does the hunter not want his prey? Do the storm clouds wish not for relief? Does fire not wish to burn?" Jacaerys Velaryon x male!oc [Some Aemond and a lil sprinkle of Baela]

"It's my duty, my God-given birthright and my crown." - Mary, Queen of Scots In which Valyria Targaryen returns to the Red Keep and becomes a key player in the game for the Iron Throne. ....or.... In which there isn't a person in the Seven Kingdoms that the Realm's Jewel loves to hate more than the Rogue Prince || HOUSE OF THE DRAGON AU||

GAME OF THRONES FANDOM RATED M FOR MATURE™