Chapter Text
The room stunk of incense and sickness, a detailed miniature carving of what Y/n assumed to be Old Valyria standing between her and the King. Alicent had already glided past the structure, smooth steps taking her to the shadowy bedside of her husband. Y/n followed slowly, watching Alicent whisper to the figure which was sitting up in bed.
“Come closer, child, so that I may see you.” The King’s voice was frail, weaker than Y/n had imagined. He sounded like no king at all, barely a whisper of a man. As Y/n got closer the details of the King’s state became more noticeable. He was skinny, with none of the fat on his bones that Y/n had been told would be there. His hair was in thin strings, barely holding onto his blemished scalp, while his face was creased into a look of pain. Age and whatever illness he held did not do him well, the cracks on his lips apparent as he licked them with a tongue white as milk. Alicent beckoned her forward, her hands looking like a child’s compared to the King’s knobbly digits.
“May I present Lady Y/n Targaryen, daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Morgana Stark.” Alicent formally introduced Y/n to the King, still keeping hold of her hand while the other was gently stroking her husband's shoulder. Viserys smiled, reaching out a shaky hand to take Y/n’s. His skin was scaly and wrinkled, blackened nails tightening around Y/n’s fingers.
“You have your fathers eyes.” He smiled, the wetness sitting within his chest making his breaths labored and small.
“So I have been told, your grace.” Y/n curtsied as best she could, eyes moving between the King and Queen.
“You are just as I hoped you would be from our writings,” Viserys swallowed, letting go of her hand gently, “I have awaited your arrival eagerly, my dear.”
“I too have been anxious to meet, your gra—” Viserys shook his head, pursing his lips.
“We are family, Y/n. In private you may refer to me as ‘uncle’. Such formalities are only needed at court.” He waved, Y/n nodding along to his words.
“Of course, Uncle. You seem to be doing better than when we last spoke, I see that the wound on your cheek has healed.” Y/n commented, although his right eye was still clouded by a greying spot. What made Y/n happiest about looking at the King was seeing the youthfulness in his good eye, the awareness it presented despite his body betraying him.
“Yes, let us hope it stays that way.” Viserys laughed, Alicent letting out a polite chuckle.
“You have come a very long way Y/n, I’m sure you desire to bathe and such. I am glad to be the first of your family you have met here in the Red Keep. We shall talk again, perhaps over dinner tonight.” The King hummed, squeezing the hand Alicent placed on his shoulder.
“I will show you to your chambers.” The Queen said, kissing her husband's forehead before escorting Y/n out of the room. They walked in silence to Y/n’s chambers, bidding each other good-day as Y/n closed her door. Her maids were still organizing her things, all quietly working to make Y/n’s stay a comfortable one.
“May I have a bath drawn, if possible?” Y/n asked the woman nearest to her, the young servant bowing before enlisting others to help. Before long Y/n had undressed and was guided into her tub, a few maids staying to help wash her. Y/n breathed in the sweet scented oils and goats milk swirling within the hot water, leaning back as an older southern maid unbraided her hair. Half of the women in the room were her maids from Winterfell, and the other half were attendants the Queen had so generously offered her.
“What is your name?” Y/n turned her head slightly to address the maid combing her hands through her hair, the tan-skinned woman raising her brows before she responded.
“Lysana, my lady.” She bowed her head briefly, continuing to search for knots within Y/n’s dark hair.
“Lysana, how long have you worked within the Red Keep?” Y/n questioned, the maids beginning to scrub gently along her body.
“Since the late Prince Baelon was born, my lady.” Lysana answered curtly, taking oils from beside her and patting them into Y/n’s hair.
“Then you must know of the Queen’s children, yes?” Y/n stared forward at the tapestry that hung in front of her, two dragons encircling each other in what she interpreted as a mating dance.
“Yes, I was the wet nurse to Prince Aegon when he was a babe, then his younger sister Princess Helaena.” Lysana sounded proud when she revealed what she’d done, a confident smile gracing her freckled cheeks.
“Would you tell me about them? My cousins?” Lysana hummed for a moment at the request, beginning to re-braid Y/n’s hair, only it didn't feel like she was repeating the same pattern.
“Your cousins are much like their mother, the only thing that sets them apart is the colour of their hair.” Lysana rolled her eyes, platting faster.
“I have only heard rumors about the way they act, would you tell me in truth who they are? I will not punish you for being honest.” Y/n needed to hear what she was going into from someone who wasn't the Queen or King or her biased uncle.
“I…I suppose, if it’s what my lady wishes. Your youngest cousin, Prince Daeron, is off in Old Town with the Queen’s family. The other three reside here within the Red Keep. All of them are… unique in their own ways. I would suggest spending your time around the Princess Helaena. She is a sweet girl, and she has not yet been burdened with the gift of motherhood.” Lysana chuckled at the thought.
“The Queen told me that she often resides by the Weirwood tree in the gardens, is this true?” Y/n asked, Lysana shrugging her shoulders.
“From what I know, it is the truth. Perhaps my Lady would like to be escorted to the gardens after her bath?” Lysana tucked the last piece of Y/n’s hair in, passing a mirror to her.
“You know the northern styles?” Y/n laughed, her hair in a familiar updo which she had not done in quite some time.
“I learned for your arrival, my Lady. Many servants of the crown come from all over Westeros, we teach each other the ways of each land.” Lysana helped Y/n get out of the bath, the maids toweling her dry.
“Lysana, I believe that visiting the gardens is a wonderful idea. Would you escort me once I am dressed?” Y/n allowed the ladies around her to begin the process of dressing her, soft linen undergarments being pulled on first.
“Whatever my Lady wishes.” Lysana bowed, cleaning up around the bath.
Y/n checked herself over in the mirror one last time, playing with the soft sleeves of her dress. It was lighter than the one she arrived with, more suited to the warm southern weather than her heaps of furs. She had made many like it, all of northern style but with southern fabrics like the ones she had seen the Queen wearing. A maid opened the door for her, Y/n’s guards standing at attention and following close behind with Tohrren as Lysana led her towards the gardens.
When Y/n stepped outside into the gardens it was like she was stepping onto a whole new continent. The trees were livelier, with multi-coloured flowers and flourishing bushes lining every pathway. Although she would die for the north, Y/n had to admit, northern greenery could not hold a candle to what the south possessed.
“Would you like me to show you to the Weirwood tree, my Lady?” Lysana asked. Y/n shook her head, unleashing Tohrren and beckoning him to go forth.
“No need, Tohrren and I will enjoy exploring on our own. Thank you, Lysana.” The woman curtsied, departing back into the Red Keep. Y/n turned to face her guards, dismissing them as well although they attempted to protest at first. What Y/n needed was to be alone with her thoughts; alone aside from Tohrren, of course.
Y/n strolled lazily through the tall hedges and blossoming trees, Tohrren running wildly up and down the pathways they traversed, chasing butterflies as if he had never seen one in his life. The scents of the garden were strong, floral and pine surrounding her like smoke. Tohrren stopped running abruptly, ears and tail piqued as he looked down a pathway. He let out a small bark, inquisitively tilting his head.
“What is it, Tohrren?” Y/n questioned, coming to his side. She looked down the pathway as well and it took a moment for her eyes to focus on what, or rather who , was before her. It was a young girl, a bit older than Y/n, with familiar waves of silver hair and a book nestled neatly in her lap. Behind her stood the Weirwood tree, its carved face bleeding the soothing red sap Y/n had grown used to. She approached slowly, Tohrren following suit, the young girl lifting her head at the approaching footsteps. The girl had periwinkle eyes, almost misty with the way they regarded Y/n.
“Hello.” Y/n curtsied, arriving in front of the girl. She nodded her head with a restrained smile, marking the page she was on in her book and closing it.
“Hello.” The girl repeated, eyes wandering but never looking into Y/n’s.
“My name is Y/n Targaryen, or Y/n, if it pleases her highness.” Y/n pet Tohrren to calm her nerves, the girl looking intensely at the hound.
“Please, call me Helaena.” Helaena gripped onto her book, still looking at Tohrren.
“Would you like to pet him?” That made Helaena look up, the princess nodding without uttering a word. Y/n released him, coaxing him forward to Helaena’s side. Y/n sat down on the bench beside her, Helaena laughing when Tohrren licked her palm.
“He seems quite taken with you.” Y/n noted, Helaena nodding with a grin.
“I’ve never seen a northern hound before, only spiders.” The Princess hummed, turning her head as Tohrren did.
“You keep northern spiders?” Y/n asked, beginning to understand why Helaena held the reputation that she did.
“Yes, northern, southern, western, and one from Asshai.” Helaena turned to face Y/n, tapping her book. Y/n looked at it, the title reading ‘Arachnid History’ by one of the many maesters of the Citadel.
“How does one become the keeper of an Asshai spider?” Y/n tried to ignore the crawling feeling she got at the mention of the small insects, instead playing with the hems of her sleeves.
“My mother got it for me, for my birthday last year. Merchants in Pentos collect them to sell for their poison, but not many sell them alive, not like mine.” Helaena frowned, the lilt in her voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh, well then it is a good thing that your mother was able to find one. Similarly, my uncle gave me Tohrren for my birthday when I was very young.” Y/n scratched behind his ear, his tail wagging behind him.
“He is a good gift.” Helaena praised, her hands now neatly within her lap.
“You are Prince Daemon’s daughter, correct? The one who came from the north?” Y/n nodded at that, copying Helaena and placing her hands in her lap.
“I believe that the south has a gift for you as well, yes, a marvelous gift made of lightning.” Helaena stood up, Y/n following her actions once more.
“Lightning? I’m not sure I follow,” Y/n shook her head, confused at her cousin's words.
“No need to follow, you will know. I am glad to have another girl in the Red Keep, I’ve always wanted a sister my age.” Helaena giggled, patting Tohrren’s head. She gave Y/n a tight hug before curtsying.
“I must go now, but I hope that we may talk in the future, good sister.” Y/n wanted to say something at the insinuation that she was Helaenas sister by marriage, but the girl turned and skipped down another path back into the garden, leaving Y/n standing beneath the Weirwood tree. Y/n chuckled, now realizing why the realms second princess was regarded as such a unique character.
Y/n returned back to the Red Keep, hoping that she would meet her other two cousins over supper later that evening. Perhaps their reputations also held some truth, maybe the eldest prince was a whor*-drunk swine and the middle son was a heartless warrior. Although, Y/n did wonder what rumours surrounded her; the unwanted first child of the Rogue Prince.
Y/n rolled her shoulders, relaxing back into her chaise as she waited for her invitation to dinner. Whatever reputation she held the King seemed to have no qualms, his only opinion being that Y/n had loose-handed penmanship. Y/n closed her eyes, Tohrren resting like a heavy blanket within her lap. Whatever she was meant to be doing here, she was sure it would all be fine. She was certain.
She had to be.
