Chapter Text
it was strange, ill have to admit. being ignored my whole life. i didnt mind it, i never liked the attention, so i never left the keep, i hardly left my chambers. my half sister and my nephews didnt know of my existence until the incident at Driftmark. i was isolated until that night. 9 years old, trapped myself in my chambers when i heard Vhagars screams in the night, i didnt know my older brother had tamed the beast.
i had always felt pity for him until the night he lost his left eye, he changed, he grew cold. no one really liked him, he told me what they would do to humiliate him in the dragonpit. i had no interest in flying, i would rather stay in my chambers, or visit Heleana and attempted sew while she admired her insects.
The pink dread was a sick joke, it made aemond furious, he ranted to me for hours about the squealing pig and Aegons laughter. i knew out nephews were being manipulated by our older brother, they didnt admired him, he seemed powerful to them so they submitted to him so his cruelness wouldnt land on them. instead in landed on Aemond. i seemed too small to Aegon, i spoke in whispers while we ate our meals, or didnt speak at all. i avoided the eldest prince as much as i could. i had always felt fear around him, i was always scared, and angry. Gods i was angry. i didnt know why, he hadnt done anything to make me hate him. of course it wasnt obvious that i disliked him.
but none of that is important anymore. our father grew iller by the day. Aegon whored and snuck around the silk street as much as he could. Helena was married to Aegon, and had my neice and nephew, i dont visited her often so i wouldnt really know what else she was up to.
Then there was Aemond, my once sweet brother. he grew competitive. skilled in sword, and on dragon back, he was fierce. he had the soul of the dragon is his remaining eye, when i would pass him in the halls occasionally id catch a glimpse of the fire. we hadnt spoken in ages. i didnt even want to look at him. he grew smart, and close to Ser Criston Cole, i thought that if war broke out they would be the ones to finish it, not necessarily with peace, but with steal and fire.
Mother grew tired, she took care of father as much as she could. she practically ruled in his place, which inspired me. she was basically ruling, a woman, i couldn’t believe it. of course my grandsire was perched on her shoulder at every moment, but she was the main show. i wish i was born with that kind of leadership, with that kind of strength. nowadays all i do is stand in front of the mirror and stare at my body. i hate it. i want to rip my skin off and cry. i want to disappear in my bed sheets and never come back.
there is nothing special about me. the 4th child of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen, dragonless, small, weak, and a girl. people dont even speak of my name. im known as the second sister, mocking my loss of power. people say im more of a mouse than Heleana, it makes my blood boil. i dont lash out like Aegon or Aemond, i sit on the edge of my window and cry. i cry when im mad, and when im sad i sit still and stare at my feet. mother doesnt pay any attention, aegon likes to joke about it to himself, and Aemond simply stares.
so the night before Rheanerya, my uncle, and my nephews were to visit before my father passed, tears streamed down my cheek as a servant read the letter
“-has appreciated your request in uniting house Targaryen and house Stark.” the servant rolls the letter back and hands it to my mother before bowing slightly and leaving the room.
Aegon cackles, a hand covering part of his mouth as he lightly bites the skin on the side of his hand. Heleana looks at me blankly, but i know she’s concerned. mother looks humiliated, her eyebrows bunched together as her eye twitches ever so slightly. Aemond stares with pursed lips, his hands clasped together on the table in front of him. my father, looks at me with pity.
“Visarra…” he rasps “The Starks are a strong house, daughter… the North has allies, it would do a great deed for the crown for you to except this proposal” his throat sounded as if it was full of chalk. i continue to stare at my plate of untouched food, salty tears run down my cheek and neck, then soak in my dress right under my collarbones. i dont saw a word. i cant do it. i would never want to leave Heleana and her children, or my mother. or my room. its been mine for nearly 16 years, why would i have to say goodbye. i wish that it was the lords that had to leave everything behind instead of the ladies when it came to marriage. my bed, my silk sheets, my fireplace and window. i dont want to part with my windowsill, the one id cry off of, the one id look out every night as i watched the people of Kings landing yell and whore and drink. the people looked like specks of dust, and the lights of the buildings looked like stars. i didnt want to leave. why would mother do this? did she really want me gone? she always thought ill of me, i was a healthy baby after i was birthed, but a sickly child. thin white hair, thin limbs and brittle bones.
i had broken a rib when aegon scared me when i was 5, i screamed and tripped, then fell down the stairs in the keep, i rolled to aemonds feet, he didn’t know what to do. my nose bloodied, lip split, and bruised all around. Aegon fled and hid somewhere for a whole 2 days, he suspected me dead.
my rib healed fine, but the area under my left breast was always tender and sore when pressure was applied.
The North, a sad and cold place. Winterfell, high stone walls. and snow, god i would never get over the snow. i would most likely get a cold in that weather. i cant stand wearing furs, the feeling on my skin makes me wants to kick and flail until its off. ive never been north, but sometimes it gets cold in the keep, and i cant stand it. i could never imagine ehat it would be like all the way up there.
the tears keep flowing, then i realize im being spoken to, i can hear a voice, but the words are blurred. i look and meet Aegons eyes glued to me “-marrying a Stark, now, baby sister? i might have to travel with you, i hear the Northern girls are quite the sight to see-“ he takes a large sip of wine, and carelessly puts his glass on the table with a small slam, which makes Heleanna wince. mothers features harden as she glares at my brother. Aemond simply blinks slowly and stares at his untouched plate.
this was the most attention i have gotten from my family in ages. they keep looking at me, please Gods make it stop. i can tell mother wants me to say something, but my throat feels like its stuffed with feathers. i look around, my eyes frantically searching the faces around me. i chew on the inside of my cheek eagerly, waiting, pleading, hoping, someone will talk about something else, so everyone stops looking at me, so i can sink back in the uncomfortable chair and pick at the blond hairs on my wrists.
eventually, mother clears her throat and sits up straighter slightly “we are to have visitors, arriving tomorrow, hopefully,” dhe says uncomfortably. “Rheanerya, Deamon, her their children will be coming. along with deamons daughters:” she looks around the table, everyone quiet. Aemonds cocky smirk seems to disappear at the hint of Jace and Luke coming back. “havent seen them since we were at Driftmark” Heleana said quietly. Aemond seemed to tense at the mention, Aegon seems unbothered.
“its been 6 years… i expect you will respect one another” Mother says sharply, looking towards my brothers. “you are all grown,” her eyed flash to me, but i know im not part of this conversation, she is talking to my three older siblings. “what if theyre cunt,” Aegon mutters under his breath. at that moment father slams his hands on the table, no exactly slams… more pounds, his little bit if strength is disappearing.
“your sisters children will behave themselves… as long as you,” he points a shaky, boney finger to Aegon, “…and you” he points to Aemond. “behave yourselves” he hisses. “i expect-“ hes cut off by weak coughs “… you two, to act of your age.” father sneers. i havent heard him this tense before. he surprisingly had enough strength to make be able to sit in a chair, which was surprising, especially because the day before he could barely speak.
dinner dragged on, i didnt pay attention to the scoldings my brothers got that night. of course, myself and heleanna were ignored, the daughters never had to worry on how to act, or simply, our parents never thought we would lash out, especially in front of family.
we were dismissed. i walked alone, i made my maid go ahead while i stood in the throne room. i look at the swords surrounding the throne, how the moonlight hit almost half of them perfectly, and sent a reflection across the room. how my footsteps echoed ever so slightly as i stood at the bottom of the steps. i looked up at the chair that caused my fathers illness. thats the only thing that is half decent with being a forgotten girl, people forget you have ears. i overheard the grand maester whispering about my fathers infection. how its been eating away at his flesh and soul for years. how nothing had been able to cure him from rotting, from becoming a living corpse. it disturbed me, yes, but i never let it get to my mind.
i was so lost staring at that stupid chair, that i didnt notice Aegon walking inside. i hug my hands over my stomach and turn to face him.
“ah, sister, i wasnt expecting you in here.” he grins. ‘hes drunk, what a surprise’ i thought. i turn back to the throne again, not saying a word.
“Cregan Stark, huh?” he stands next to me and looks at the throne “i bet hes a decent, bastard” i can picture him grinning at me now, he wants to humiliate me…
“but… its a shame. youll be ruining our bloodline, spoiling the Targaryen name when you have that wolf-fuckers children” he mutters, he knows its not my choice. he knows i dont want it, not at all.
my head hangs low at his stinging words. theres not much i can do except nothing at all. which makes the pit in my stomach grow. we keep standing there, i fear that if i try to leave, he’ll stop me and make me stay, and if i stay… he might try something. i hear the rumors, most everyone knows what hes done before when hes drunk and a servant girl comes to his aid… but im no servant girl, im his sister… but of course i wouldnt put it past him to not be terrible.
“its late” i say softly after a few minutes of silence. “i should see to my chambers.”
he doesnt respond. so i glance at him for a split second, hes already looking at me.
i swallow, then turn and leave. my heart racing insanely as i walk to the doors towards the hall. as i reach out for the handle his voice fills the room, stern, and demanding
“Viserra,” i stop instantly, then slowly turn to meet his eyes, “yes, brother…?” i practically whisper.
he stands there, some kind of emotion flashes upon his eyes that i cant read, hunger maybe, whatever it was, it scared me. hes silent for a moment, then he grins at me, and a small chuckle escaped his lips, “have a good rest of your evening, little sister, tomorrow shall be interesting” he says with a small bow. my heart stops racing, and i exhale, i realize i was holding my breath and take a deep inhale to replenish my oxygen.
“you as well, brother” i say shortly before opening the door and shutting it. i scurry down the halls and towards my chambers.
once i get inside my room, i feel my shoulders release all the tension i had when i left my room. my book still open on the wooden table next to my bed, my window still opened, and my curtains still drawn closed. everything had been the same since i had left it. perfect.
i sit down on the edge of my bed, my two maids appear in the doorway of my washroom. i send them away. they bow their heads slightly and leave. i run my own bath, i boil my own water in my fireplace, i undress myself. i hum a song, i dont remember the words, only the rhythm that they take. i scrub my pale skin until its a light pink. i dunk my head under the water, and my silken hair soaks it all up. all of my soaps smell of lavender, its my favorite. most of my dresses are of purple or blue, mother calls it my signature color,
it apparently makes my brown eyes stand out. i curl up in the strong smelling oils that sit on the top of the steaming water.
i didnt want to go. i wanted to stay. so i stayed in the wash bin until the skin on my fingers and toes turned white and wrinkled. i got out and dried my hair. i got dressed in my nightgown and layer under the sheets. but i couldnt sleep.
i lay there all night, watching as the soft breeze from my window blow the canopy ever so slightly. i stay awake for hours, watching how the wind shifts, and listening to the voiced in kings landing slowly start to disappear as the morning sun started to rise, only then do my eyes start to feel heavy.
my eyes shoot open, and my gaze lands to the foot of my bed. Aemond sat right next to my feet, his lips still pursed in his usual cocky way. “you really dont want to leave for the North, do you?” he asks plainly.
i suck on my teeth, and sit up on my elbows, then shake my head. my brother hadnt talked to me in ages, i cant recall our last conversation, i think it was over 2 years ago about something stupid. it felt good to speak to him again… it was exciting, thrilling even. it made my heart flutter slightly to hear his words. to meet his gaze, eye to eye.
he lets out a low hum and nods “i didnt think so. you were always one to fall ill easily,” he says softly. “i could never imagine you lasting long up North.” it was caring but still took a blow. yes i was sickly, i was since i was just a babe, and colder weather took a toll on me one way or another.
“you should try to convince mother to let you stay. it was just an invitation she sent, the Starks are the only to have responded for now. wait another week, then weigh your options. some suitors might be
closer than you think,” he stands up and flattens the from of his shirt
“id believe many would want the opportunity to have the hand of the young princess.” he grins softly, then he leaves.
i sit there slightly, still processing his words. it was true, mother sent many ravens across the realm to find a husband for me. and it just so happened that one of the farthest and most rural houses replied first. either young Cregan Stark is desperate for a bride, or one is interested. i didnt really see the point of marriage, why have children with someone you dont love? why lay with them every night just to sleep so far apart? i didnt understand any of it. i wasnt sure ive been in love, i never felt loved around anyone except my half sister rheanerya, she always showed me motherly love thay Alicent didnt. my mothers attention was soaked up like a sponge toward my father, then to Aegon, who seemed as though he couldnt be left unsupervised for more than 10 minutes.
all of her energy was drained after, none for me, aemond, or heleana. it pained me and Heleana, yes obviously, and i knew it also took a toll on Aemond. how he always mocked our mother, “Her Grace” this, “Her Grace” that, is all he has to say about her. it made me sad, it made me want to cradle him like i did after his eye socket was sewn shut in Driftwood. the humiliation we went thru that night, i could never imagine. but hes buried all of that now, he doesn’t portray it was plainly and boldly as our sister and i.
i stay in bed, i make my maids leave me alone, i dismiss the knocks on the door from the Lord Hand, my grandsire, urging me to rise and dress for the day before my half sister arrives. i dont move, not a single inch since aemond left. i didnt want to, i didnt feel like it. my skin still smelt like lavender from my bath, parts of my wavy hair had hints of moisture present, i can feel it on the back of my neck. by the time i hear my uncle deamons dragon, Caraxes, high pitched calls and click’s overhead, and the shouts of the smallfolk down below, i decided to sit up. my maids rush in like a line of ants and start to dress me. im put into my usual color palette, with a dark indigo dress. my hair is braided on the sides and pinned up into a bun. my face is dusted with a white chalky power to make my skin appear lighter, its a thing that makes me like how i look slightly more. its comforting in a way. i slide my shoes on, and my skin and hair is adored once again with lavender oil. my maids follow me out, i wish they wouldnt, but its their job, and i know its less complicated to follow me then to have me send them away. so i keep them by my side.
we make our way along the halls, i like to stick close to the walls, i dont like the feeling of being completely out in the open. i dont like feeling exposed,
i get frightened and paranoid easily, especially by men, and especially by those i dont know. mother always told stories of men who would scare her, or metaphors, i believe they are, of evil me. she seems to speak of experience, which only makes it all seem too real.
i get embarrassed easily. i accidentally stumble, my cheeks turn red. my voice breaks, i bite my cheek. my hair starts to come undone from its do and someone points it out, i want to disappear. i guess its all normal to feel those sorts of things, but it just seems to happen to me more than anyone. and its terrifying to leave my chambers, to think that i could humiliate myself at any given moment when a set of eyes land on me. word spreads easily here, ive found that out the hard way. i heard one of Aegons maids talk about a girl he raped, i then told one of my maids, and she went on the spread the rumor. not long later the poor victim my brother assaulted went missing, most knew the reason why. either she was banished or killed because of what my brother forced upon her. everyone who had heard the word of it was brought in to be interrogated, which really wasnt bad, considering how furious my mother was.
my maid lost her tongue for it, because she didnt say it was me who told her. if she did tell, she only wouldve received a beating, and i wouldve had a scolding. its strange to think that people are treated differently because of their name and blood, something that wasnt up to them. why hate a bastard when it was his parents fault for his existence? why humiliate a dwarf or a cripple when thats how they came out of the womb. i doubt one would choose to be born that way. and most importantly to me, why shame a wife for birthing a girl when it was her husband who put her in her womb? blood is blood, and it runs thicker than water, so why do sailors cherish the sea over their family? i have so many questions i want to ask the Gods when i see them, i have so many wonders that itch my brain either every passing second. things i beg to know the answer to.
once i regain my train of thought, im standing on the balcony of the courtyard, Aemond and Ser Criston Cole practice. i watch my nephews Jace and Luke walk into the courtyard, their eyes glued to my brother. i can tell that theyre intimidated, i can practically feel it radiating off of them. if i have to be honest they have every right to be. Aemonds changed, hes older now, an adult. jace and luke are still children, as am i, but Aemonds vengeance hasnt aged one bit, or at least i doubt it has. last time we were speaking, he said he wanted an eye in return, at least an eye. that was all. i thought Vhagar would be good enough for him, i believed she would meet his standards, but i was wrong.
Ser Criston Cole’s mace flies to the ground, my brother’s sword held to his throat. everyone hustling around the courtyard stop and admire my brother, some clap, some cheer. i feel like im discouraging him, so i start to clap as well, only to draw the attention of everyone, including my nephews across the yard. i chew on my cheek and my face turns pink. Aemond lowers his sword from Ser Cristons neck, his right eye fixed on me. he seems like hes upset at me from taking away his attention, but i didnt mean to. then he turns his head towards Luke and Jace, then his expression darkens. i see the real hatred in his eyes.