Dreams, Dragons, and Deceit || Aemond & Aegon Targaryen

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Visaera held her breath and pressed herself tightly against the tavern wall as two gold cloaks made their way up the cobblestone street. Her silver hair was tied back in a braid and the hood of her cloak completely concealed her face. Dawn was fast approaching and she cursed herself for moving slowly through the alleys of King's Landing. She needed to get to the harbor before it was noted that she was gone and yet it was more important that she not be spotted.

How she wished that Carrion resided in the Dragonpit, she would have been well on her way to Dragonstone already, gliding high above the clouds. Instead, she continued to sneak through the streets, pausing and stepping back into the shadows at every sign of a guard.

Come on, Vis. Be a dragon. You can do this...

Once she reached the harbor, she pulled the cloak tighter around her head and made her way down the docks. She only had a ring to trade, and most of the captains weren't willing to risk the king's wrath by stopping at Dragonstone; the princess quickly grew frustrated.

Visaera realized she was running out of options, just as the bells of the keep sounded, echoing throughout the capital.

"Fuck..." she whispered, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. The very last ship at the docks was a tiny vessel, little more than a rowboat with a makeshift cabin. Visaera only prayed that the captain needed the money as badly as she needed to get home.

"Excuse me, my lord," she offered. The elderly man chuckled and looked up at her.

"Just a simple fisherman, tis all. 'My lord'..." he repeated, laughing as he mocked her.

"Fisherman, you say? Have you ever made the journey to Dragonstone?" she asked, glancing back up at the castle, hoping she didn't look nearly as panicked as she was feeling.

"Many times, love. Though, not so much lately, what with all the succession hubbub," Visaera nodded.

"Would you be willing to go now?" she risked, finally reaching up to adjust her hood. "I know a certain Targaryen who would pay well to see her daughter cross the bay safely."

"Princess..." he breathed as he caught clear sight of her silver hair and violet eyes. The bells were continuing to sound and the fisherman glanced up at the Red Keep and then back at Visaera. "Alright, my lady, get in. Hurry up now. Seven hells..." They were pushing off only a minute later but it wasn't until the harbor begin to shrink into the distance that Visaera was able to breathe comfortably.

The cabin was little more than a wooden crate with just enough room for Visaera to crawl inside. Tornin, as she learned his name was, insisted that she remain in the cabin at all times, in case one of her uncles decided to fly out and look for her. The thought of Aemond catching them in the middle of the bay and leaving Tornin's ship a pile of sinking ash made Visaera's chest clench and she agreed to remain hidden.

Traveling in such a small boat, with only a single sail, took far longer than normal and, by the third day of their trip, Visaera was not only greensick, but feeling claustrophobic as well. Thankfully, Tornin liked to talk and he gave her plenty of conversation throughout the duration of the trip.

"Dragonstone is in sight, princess!" he finally called out, just when she thought she was going to go mad. He hadn't need to tell her. The thrumming she had become so accustomed to had magnified in her chest and she knew her dragon was calling for her. She peeked her head out of the cabin first, and then clawed her way across the wood to the bow of the boat.

As they approached, an exuberant roar echoed in the air and Visaera spotted Carrion launching himself into the sky. He was welcoming her home. Her bonded dragon was welcoming her home and she couldn't stop the tears that welled in her eyes.