↳ viii. A CRADLE OF SNAKES
SEASON 1
EPISODE 8: THE LORDS OF THE TIDE
—HOUSE OF THE DRAGON—

HEAVY IS THE CROWN

" The wise let fear school them yet never fool them, for then they are ever free to learn, to make better choices, to become heroes. "

KINGSLANDING

      || AS ENIGMATIC AS THE DUSK, VYSELYRA'S GAZE SPARKS AN INTRIGUING MIX OF RETICENCE AND DETERMINATION. She pauses on the gravel, shoes crunching audibly as she steadies herself—shoulders squared and head held stout. Across from her lays Aemond, a cocktail of emotions dancing faintly in his eye.

Her sight was fixated upon the prince that slowly gazed over her features—sword tucked beneath his arm. Her jaw clenched with every glance he gave at her figure. It felt as if she was some prized animal at a show—-one to be studied before buying. This affair of both cousins exhibits a plethora of vast and varied emotions. A drama of the unsaid, a saga of the understood; their relationship is exactly that.

" Are you finished now." Vyselyra muttered through set teeth, " My prince..." exasperation riding on her tone. The silver-haired, one-eyed prince donned a sneer upon her remark—-as his eye traveled to meet hers. " So, tell me,"He ceased a moment, "How's the arm been dear?" He observed, meekly gesturing towards it. Of course, Vyselyra merely casted a side glance at the arm that had once borne her foolishness.

" It is fine." She declared, before cautiously placing both arms behind her back—-with sword still held tightly in hand. A subtle hmmm of his vocals escapes from Aemond following her comment. That's when it dawned on her— the black eyepatch secured on his one side— a night neither would not forget. The very one where his left eye had once called home.

A faint, pink scar was slightly visible to remind him every day of what had happened. But even then, Aemond was still just as he'd always been, forthcoming. He did not shy away from saying what was on his mind at that exact moment—-even when it costed him.

Her eyes slowly meandered from him to Jacaerys, both gazes meant upon one another—-sharing a mutual understanding. They had only just arrived, and it seemed Aemond was up to no good. And Ben, well it seemed his sights were focused just as heavily.

It was there in that moment, He decided to stop his questioning and twirled to face Jacaerys and Lucerys. "It is nice to see my dear nephews,' He proclaimed with arms outstretched as if he was humbling welcoming them. But Jacaerys merely glared at him whilst Lucerys held a worried expression upon his. Neither Reciprocating his dawning praise.

After his little performance short of an audience, Aemond then turned his attention back on her, much to her displeasure," Especially you my dear Vyselyra." His words flowed like soiled milk. Aemond then moved ever so slightly closer to her—raising a hand up almost as if he planned to place it upon her chin. But as she continued her unforgiving glare, he decided against it.

" Hmm." Vyselyra daunted a subtle smirk in response to his hesitation. It was then she noticed how close he was from her. Her hand gripped at the hilt tighter, the color faded from her knuckles. Her eyes of gold smoldered with resentment—as she started to bring the sword around from her back.

Vyselrya, without much thought to it, held the sword at arm's length— directly towards the prince. To which he answered by unsheathing his. " Now, now dear princess." Aemond playfully expressed, a smug expression warmed itself upon his features. Vyselyra merely pouted, narrowing her eyes at him.

She was not going to let him get the best of her this time. Last time, she was weaker and could not fight—but now was different. So, she was not backing down—-even against Jacaerys's wish as his body language spoke loudly enough and his eyes locked in confusion and in fear.

"That is enough now..." Jacaerys speaks, taking a step towards both— a hint of annoyance riding his tone. But Aemond merely shakes it off, casting a side glance to the young Velaryon prince , " I'm sure Lady Vyselyra can hold her own. As she always has..." He draws out the last line as if emphasizing on something.

Vyselyra arched a brow upon his mocking tone—which he
repeated to much her energy. Aemond leaned his sword steady against hers, which screamed to egg her on—-to fuel the fire. But before either could engage, a voice came from above," Enough M'lady. Time to calm the flame." Isen sternly spoke, standing at the head of the stairs..

But the young princess of the Harbor did not heed to his command, nor did she even glance in his direction—her eyes were only to be fixated upon Aemond. As the swords meant, the metal gently clashing against another. Vyselrya locked herself in position—with Aemond mimicking her every move. Just as he did when they were younger.

But as Vyselyra readied to propel herself forward—-there was a crisp whip against the smooth surface of the air—a breeze that whizzed pass the ear of Jacaerys—before a clash as metal hits metal. She feels a void of nothingness as the hilt of the sword was no longer with in her grasp.

As if it were all happening in slow motion, she watches as it falls down upon the dirt— the dust clouds around it. Aemond is taken by surprise as well as he jerks back ever so slightly. Quickly he composed himself, directing a steady sight to Vyselyra—-who stands there staring at the sword and the arrow that lay beside it.

Jace's eyes widened upon witnessing what had just unfolded. His heart began pounding at an increasing rapid pace. Without another thought of even where it came from, or any regard to his own safety, he rushed immediately to her side—Lucerys following in suit rather wearily. " Are you alright? Are you hurt?" He questioned, twirling her hand around for any wound. But Vyselyra unmoved by his worry, still fixated upon the sword.

Vyselyra gritted her teeth forth, so much that it made a noise, which Jacaerys took note of it. A hint of pink had flushed across the highest points of her cheeks and her lids held heavy. He slowly brought his other hand up, wanting to place it against her cheek to calm the flame that cascaded across—but upon noticing everyone looking, he instead withdrew back to his side.

Aemond merely jeered watching them, rolling his eye before withdrawing his sword to his side once more and standing back into normal stance. Criston takes his place beside him—-watching the duo. " Disgusting, isn't it? the both of them, a bastard who will be her ruin. But it seems
nothing new as she runs with Rhaenyra, two cunts spoiled to the ends." He spoke rather resentful.

Upon hearing those words slither from his mouth, Aemond quickly withdrew his sword—-clashing its blade against Criston's chest. The guard let a small groan escape his mouth as he sumbled back slightly. The one-eyed prince then turned to face him full on. "You may be free to speak that way of Jacaerys or Rhaenrya, but you will not utter such words of Vyserlya." He sternly seethed—not once raising his voice.

In that moment of holding the blade against his mother's guard, he felt uneasy and confusion as to why he felt such a need defend a girl whom blamed him.

But yet there he was, his eye as blue as the ocean staring endlessly into the very man whom questioned her. Criston sighed heavily, glancing over to Lucerys whom wearily looked on—before holding his hand up in defeat, "Forgive me my prince, that was very distasteful on my part." Satisfied, Aemond then withdrew the sword, before twirling it around in his hand. Lucerys watched the whole of it, intermittently stuck between him and the chaos that laid mere feet from him.

Jacaerys, trying to understand the situation, slowly retraces where the arrow originated from to see Arthur with bow in hand, standing atop the stairs. " You are her father's advisor, the protector, you could have hurt her." Jace barked, watching as the dark, haired man brushed pass Isen—-nonchalantly casting the bow upon the table.

" You shall hold your tongue boy..."He spat, before uncovering and resting his arm against the hilt of his sword. Jacaerys upon noticing and not carrying a weapon of his own, ceased —-withdrawing himself back and lowering his sight to the side. Vyselyra took note of this and realized how much the old advisor was begrudged towards him. Perhaps he knew the truth of it...

There's a moment as Arthur gazes upon both before speaking once more, " Sword fighting is not very lady like Vyselyra." But the princess only glared upon the man that was sworn to protect them. A tale of anger readied itself in her appearance. Her nostrils flared with every sigh that expels itself. But just as Jacaerys moves to protest, Vyselyra squeezes his hand tightly— saying all he needs to know.

" I can do what I please Arthur." She grumbled, before leaning down to fetch the sword. " As it always seems..." He carried on—rather annoyed to be in her presence, " Your lord father has requested you be shown to your room for the remainder of the day. Lady baela is awaiting you."

She whipped around rather quickly with the sword in hand, " Was it my fathers command or yours?" She acquired, taking a step towards him. Which Jace immediately pulls her back towards him, " I think thats enough for today. Maybe we shall try again another time." He says as unease plays across his face—-taking the sword from her grasp. Jace then turns to her to face him—leaning his gaze to meet hers. In those eyes of his, they plead for her to stop, " Yes, perhaps so." She assures in agreement to the young prince—before looking upon Arthur as resentment grows inside her.

But before she could even act on the word of Arthur to her discretion or anything for matter, the grant doors suddenly opened rather abruptly. Which took merely all by surprise.

As the onlookers watched on with their curious filled minds, the banners of blue and a silver swaying with the wind— Vyselyra twisted with grimace noticing a horse donned upon them. This signaled to her only one person and it wasn't Corlys. Soldiers dressed in blue and silver armor walked sturdily passed—- non passing any gestures or facial expressions for that matter.

The Velaryon flag was held high upon poles—soldiers grappling them as if their very lives depended upon it. The very dread she felt laid upon her skin like poison when Vaemond finally came into view. He was encircled by soldiers of the kind.

As he marked closer, the lord merely casted the brothers a look of disdain and disfavor. With the boys only casting him side glances. But his expression softened upon seeing Vyselyra there.He gave her a small smile as he walked on—but the princess merely glared at him in disgust.

Jace, however, does nothing of the sort and Luke looks to be troubled, knowing his is the one lord dislikes the most. As the lord takes leave, Lucerys begins to tug upon Jace's cloak— much like a child may it's mother," We most go now, if mum finds out Vyselyra is out here in her best dress, she'll have all of our heads." He proclaimed rather loudly, to which Arthur looks at the princess. She then watches as he tilts his head slightly in the direction of the stairs.

With a heavily sigh, she begins her solumly journey—picking her dress slightly up and casting a side glance as she does. Jacaerys soon follows suit but Arthur immediately places a hand against his chest—stopping the Velaryon boy in his tracks. " She does not need a mutt at her heels." Arthur grumbles coldly. But Jacaerys merely takes the old advisor's hand away from his chest, " I will take her to her room, ser." Arthur did nothing but stare at the boy with Jace mirroring the same.

Lucerys merely cleared his throat to ease the pressure that sat thick upon the air. It were another moment before either pair gave in. So in short of a response, Arthur unclenched his jaw before taking his leave—leaving the two brothers seeming rather baffled.

Vyselyra was not far ahead when Jacaerys finally caught up to her. " Are you alright?" He asked out of breath, but she huffed loudly through her nose in response—clasping her hands tightly in front of her. The pair walked in silence for while down the corridors—with Jace casting her a glance every now and then.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, gesturing his hands around in front of him—before a second glance confirms her discomfort. "Or not, that's completely fin..." Not all of his intended words find their way out as Vyselyra butts in, " Arthur had always done this, everything when I've trained in the yards at White Harbor, he would always have an issue." She says,toying with her fingers—twisting her index and thumb around her other.

" He does seem sort of odd... It is clear does not like me." He expressed which Vyselyra half-hearted chuckles, " Well, if makes you feel better, he doesn't like anyone for that matter." Jacaerys laughed in response—-fixing his sight upon her slender face once more. But this time, his glance was once again interrupted—- as out from the corridors, a woman in blue with two maids at her side steadily approached.

" Vyselyra?" The woman's voice acquires mere feet from the unexpecting Vyselyra. It takes a second or two for the presence of the woman to sink it, even though it is right before her eyes—-larger than life. Then Vyselyra feels her lips stretch wider into gaping grin and her eyebrows arch for the sky. Baela made it.

A girl kissed with her mother's beauty— one of a rounder face more than Rhaena's and her hair was slightly more prominent in its updo. She's here. Standing right before them. And in the seconds that follow Vyselyra can feel her squeezing her arms around her with her reciprocating. No longer is she pixelated and two dimensional; she is warm...

Baela happily greeted the girl, " I am happy to see here, though I will admit was not thrilled to see you were not with your father at Driftmark..." Vyselyra closed her eyes for moment and sighing before opening, " My father did not want to be mocked by lord Vaemond for bringing his daughter to court."

"Well, you did not miss much it seems. Vaemond was very stern about his beliefs. I'm sure you know very well of what he has proposed to you...." Her voice slowly faded as excitement that once flooded across Vyselyra's face faded with those words.

Upon noticing her shift in demeanor, Baela quickly changes the subject, " Well let's show you to your room." Baela says, interlocking her arm With Vyselyra. " I will see you tomorrow cousins. Rest well." Baela spoke, gesturing towards Jacaerys and Lucerys—who had only finally caught up. Atlas, Reluctantly against his wishes, the prince gave in after receiving a a subtle nod from Vyselyra.

——-

Baela and Vyselyra followed the long corridors not far behind the young maids, " My Lady, this will be your room for the time being." One petite woman said as she opened a large wooden door—-it was quite massive and loud. Vyselyra just stared in awe at the room, it was much bigger than the one she had at White Harbor at least.

A large fireplace was suited in the middle upon the wall. A window was to the right with a well placed view. One with endless sights of land filled with houses and the sky of pastels—not to forget the sea out in yonder.

She rubbed her hand on the soft, silky fur blankets that lined the bed. Then without a second more to waste, Vyselyra turned and gleefully threw herself back upon it—-the softness conformed to her figure.

Baela merely shook her head at the princess, before taking a seat upon the bed, " So, how is your brother Medrick doing?" A subtle laugh escapes from Vyselyra as she leans herself forward, " That one, oh..." she scoffs, "you always ask this yet it's always the same answer." She chuckles which Baela recognized, lightly doing the same.

There's a moment before Baela thinks of something else to say, once more she begins, "So Jace," she acquires looking upon the princess which she merely responded with, " yes, what about him?"

"Do you like him?" Vyselyra slumped with hands outstretched behind to hold her up before huffing, " well yeah." But the answer seemed obvious, the young princess looked quite confused—her brows furrowed and her tilted. Baela only chuckled slightly noticing she did not understand, " No, not that like.. like as in like like."

Vyselyra's mouth parted slightly, making an expression of overly drawn out O as she reached for a pillow to rest upon, " I mean, I suppose more like a good friend than anything." She answered rather lazily, before leaning down on the pillow. The expression of anxiety that had fixated upon Baela's face seemed to slowly subside upon hearing this—yet, she felt there was more to it than what Vyselyra was letting on.

But as Vyselyra laid there, she felt conflicted as those words escaped from her mouth. Did she really see him only as that or maybe perhaps there were more? The pain of losing Laenor has always overshadowed any feelings for Jacaerys. But as the thought crossed her mind, Vyselyra felt telling Baela may arises unneeded problems....

The two princesses share an equally awkward moment—one that acquired silence. " there's something I need to tell you." Baela expresses, places her hand gently upon Vyselyra, " It's about a arrangement between Jac..." but she was only able to spill half of the last few words before a knock comes about the door.

As Baela gracefully opened it, a guard donned in blue and silver slowly stepped forward. "Lord Vaemond has requested a meeting with the princess Vyselyra." The guard spoke as it echoed through the room—which Baela flashed her a look of confusion, unsure if her cousin should. " And what will this be about? May I add." Vyselyra spoke, slowly standing to her feet.

"M'lady, I do not know. Only the lord wants to tell you." He answers, his eyes set forward—-arms barred tightly against his side. But Baela being Laena's daughter, was not backing down and stood her ground, " I will accompany her." But the guard merely stopped the girl from going further. "Alone are his wishes." Baela stands in silence, narrowing her eyes upon the man until she feels a hand touch hers., " It is quite alright dear cousin." Vyselyra expressed, a loud sigh escaping her—-" I will be alright." Before giving one final glance upon the Velyaron princess—following in place behind the guard.

It was not soon before she was standing before Lord
Vaemond—his hair of silver reminiscent of the girls. He stared longingly upon the iron throne— hands clasped behind his back as he were instructing a class. The royal hall echoed with steps of anticipation.

Vaemond was a man of considerable influence after his brother that is. Wielding both power and position expertly. Wrapped in traditional Velaryon attire, their meeting wore the mask of pleasantries, but beneath it lay a tension so palpable, it could cut through glass.

The guard cleared his throat loudly which caught the attention of the lord as he twirled around to gaze upon his visitors. Noticing the princess of shining silver light as the moon, he put on a smile that moved ear to ear. The lord then gracefully strolled over to her— and upon his arrival, he offered a hand out.

To which Vyselyra merely glanced upon for moment before her eyes slowly traveled back to meet his. The years and years of countless stories laid upon his face in tales of wrinkles and his beard reminiscent of salt and pepper.

But Vaemond was not backing down. "My little princess, what a pleasure it is to see you all grown." " I am not your little princess." She sneered, quite unmoved at his choose of words. She was not a pawn to be dawned over nor was she a brood mare for the rest. But Vaemond grunted beneath his breath, slightly tapping his foot rather impatiently awaiting the young princess to take his hand.

Reluctantly, much to her dismay, she extended her hand to meet his. "You see I have asked for you to speak on such terms because I feel it would be better in person. I have asked your father of this already..." But she glares at him distasteful, "And his answer was no." She is quick to answer which the lord chuckles, " Much like your father I see, be it prettier." Vaemond jokes moving slightly in closer, before taking a slow walk around her—like once more she was at a prized auction.

"You represent the future of the kingdom," he began, his voice steady and eyes gleaming with hopes. He voiced his position, his influence, and the urgency of their union. To him, marriage to Vyselyra was an opportunity to further strengthen his stranglehold on Driftmark. "With our alliance, we can rule like never before, don't you agree?"

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, silence reigned supreme. The princess, however, was far from agreeing. The very proposition was outrageous. A ferocious spark ignited in her eyes, and she broke the silence. "An alliance forged on self-interest, Uncle, does not bode well for the kingdom," she retorted, her words echoing with strength and righteousness.

" But you see, my princess of White Harbor. You would be the Lady of Driftmark, lady to the largest and most powerful navy. You needn't worry about protection as your every need would be care for.." he spoke softly into her ear as he leaned in— gesturing outwards with his hand.

But Vyselyra merely takes a step to the side, trying to remove herself from such a situation, " I needn't worry for power or care lord. I will have much of it at White Harbor. My home has the biggest and feared navy, and the wealthiest port of the North." There a moment of silence shared amongst both.

The princess, with a glint in her ever curious eyes, made a sly remark, "Uncle, do you love your brother ?" This question, although wrapped in an innocent tone, was a pointed dagger intended to stir unrest.

"Your brazen words reveal your naivety, child. Harmony within a family strengthens the backbone of a kingdom. Betraying my brother, is a thought that would never cross my mind," he asserted, quelling the rumors once and for all.

" I merely ask as to why you are so quick to denounce his claim and the claim of Lucerys and try for the Driftmark throne yourself." Vyselyra's voice remain flat without much give. Aside from the mocking tone attached to it. Even without a mere mention, she could tell fury burned within him.

Vaemond lunged forward, like a cat may its prey—grabbing her harshly by the forearm—pulling in closer to where she can feel his breath upon her neck, " Listen to me child, since we must speak of family, once your father has passed, you think you'll take the throne? No, you will become nothing. All that is to your name is that you are of Targaryen blood— nothing more. Your half brothers will have claim to the sit of White Harbor, not you. And those allies you spoke of, what could you possibly give them? Nothing..."

Vyselyra felt a coldness brewing across her body—one where the demons spoke to unleash the fury within. "But with me, you will always have a sit, a claim. Riches beyond belief..." He announced quite pleased with himself, before extending his other hand toward her cheek, but Vyselyra slightly jerks her head away—much like a horse May when scared.

The young Targaryen was uneased with his remarks— disgust manifested in the depths of her stomach. This was atrocious that such a man of advance age would dare speak of such terms. Upon her rightful justification, there's a look of anger cascading across his face at her refusal. It dawned upon her that no one else is there, no one to help if something were to happen. Her face goes pale like a ghost in the night, her palms sweaty as Vaemond squeezes his grip upon her tighter—which she winces in pain. The heat from his fingers creeps into her consciousness, wanting to pull her arm away. The touch. It's an invasion, an unwanted intimacy.

" No, she will not be nothing." A voice then boasted from the grant of the hall. A relief washed quickly over her as the color returned. Vaemond clenched his teeth, his one lid held heavily against his eye. Vyselyra head round to find Jacaerys standing there—quite displeased with the lords comment. Never did she think she'd be happier to see him standing there.

Vaemond smiled with a touch of disgust against his voice,
" Ah the prince, always in places you are not welcomed it seems." Jacaerys slowly made his way towards them, his hands in slight fists structured to his side, " She would not be a no body, she is someone to me and I am not kindly taken to what you have said to her." The lord merely lets a daunting mmm escape from his mouth.

As Jacaerys stood there, his eyes stationed upon hers, there is a softness to his appearance. A kind of warmth married to some shyness, a honest and gentle soul... something that sparked a flutter bursting within her heart and deep within her belly. She could not quite describe the feeling in that moment as Jacaerys stood there for her.

But the moment was much short lived as Vyselyra still tried to free herself from his grasp—trying unsuccessfully that is. She even tried to wiggle her much smaller fingers beneath his larger hand to loosen the grip to avail. But it were mere moments before Jacaerys took note of lord Vaemond grasp upon the girl he had cared much for. This ignited a fire he not felt nor had tried to find once more since years ago with Aemond.

" You shall remove your hand at once from my betrothed Lord." He commanded before his brain could think of another alternative. One could say both Vaemond and Vyselyra shared equal expressions of confusion and conflict as those words escaped. The princess of white Harbor gazed upon the prince with mouth slightly agap and her eyes puzzled as the whites shone.

But a mixture of anger and confusion flooded across the age torn face of Vaemond—as he slowly released her from his prison. Vyselyra did not hesitate in the least to quickly take her leave— placing herself slightly beside Jacaerys. If she had Windermere in that moment, she swear she would not have hesitated in the less to burn him.

It was all an act on her part of course, she knew Jacaerys was merely playing at getting her out of there. But then it came across her mind as she stood there watching both men, was it all a ruse?

" Very interesting to a mutt and a lady.... I shall take my leave now." Vaemond's eyes blazed with disgust as he starting toward the exit—- Jace only glaring at the man that had many years on him. But he stopped just to where  Vyselyra was within ear shot, " Remember what I have mentioned."

Her lips held a fine line and her held tilted up—she was more than just a daughter to be given away. So, in an act to perhaps throw Vaemond off, Vyselyra quickly grabs Jacaerys's hand and holds it close to her side.

" You mustn't say such things to a lady whom is to be married." She counters which Vaemond squared his shoulders and takes his leave.

Vyselyra releases a breath she did not know she was withholding from escaping. She hunched over, with her arms across her lower half—her very sides and belly ached upon the fear that took hold leaving.

Jace saw the reddened mark left upon her delicate skin and gently eased her back to normal composure. Then taking the hurt forearm into his— splaying it out for him to see the true extent of the damage.

The sudden grab lifted her heart and soul. Perhaps, it was something she had doubted before if what she truly wanted, a dragon, power, but maybe it were to be needed and loved - in the touch of his hand, Vyselyra found the certainty she  been needing.

Vyselyra could not help but watch him as his eyes of honey and vibrant green delicately surveyed her bruise. In that very moment as with others that has come before, she knew in her heart she had found a special friend.

"So betrothed..." she lightly chuckled still watching him which he playfully sighed— finishing his tour of her bruise. " In my defense, it was the best I could think of at that very moment.." he ended, before looking up meet her gaze.

The pair stared into another's eyes as her hand slowly faded from his touch—the heat of his hand against hers. For once, she did not run or mere crack off a unneeded remake.

Dragging across the ridges of his fingers that could tell of story of lost soul. A moment lost in time, he felt his heart crave to keep her hand against his—-gently curling his around hers as it slowly escapes. There's a empty void of where his hand held fast—one that ignited the warmth in her belly once more. There together as one in the throne room—not another soul to bother them.

_____________________________

* Literally Vyselyra and her father next chapter *

* Vaemond to Jacaerys when he interrupts
his meeting with Vyselyra*

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_________ ITS FINALLY HERE!!! I'm so sorry it took forever, but I want my chapters to be at least somewhat good and not just thrown out there.

So we get some spicyness from
Vaemond and Aemond, 👀 now the next chapter will definitely be super intense with everyone
and of course Aemond will be starting stuff at the dinner.

And Alicent will do something rather terrible to the young princess😭, so stay tuned for the next chapters!!!

Who's ready for the real
Fun to began??!😈😈

___________