"Your faithless love is the only hoax I believe in."
In which Princess Saera Velaryon falls in love with the fearful One-Eyed Prince.
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*AEMOND TARGARYEN X FEMALE OC*
*TW: VIOLENCE, SEXUAL ACTS, PROFANITY, OBSESSION, POSSESIVENESS, MANIPULATION, CO...
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this is me trying - Taylor Swift
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123 A.C and Before Joffrey Velaryon's Birth
"Poor Helaena... I do wonder how she feels being betrothed to our uncle?" Saera asked as she practiced her writing on the parchment whilst Jacaerys studied his Valyrian book. He did not bother looking up at his twin sister, instead he hummed, "Why? It is natural, we Targaryens marry within the family to preserve the blood." He answered nonchalantly.
Saera's ten year old brain lacked the maliciousness and understanding that came ever so naturally to Jacaerys. To her, marrying her brother was a nightmare, but to Jacaerys it was duty and dream. A duty he would fulfill with much excitement as he knew, or thought, that Saera belonged to him since they were born.
"Well yes... we will marry..." Saera said, her hand trembling at the thought. She stopped her writing and let her mind wander. She liked to think about other girls, were they too betrothed since a young age? Did they love their betrotheds? Or did they rever them in silence, much like her?
"We will, because we are twins. Dragon twins made for eachother. I love you, dear future wife. Do you love me?" Jace asked, finally looking up from his book and gazing to his twin. Saera remained unmoving for a second.
Of course she loved her brother, she would be sick not to. Though she was sure that the way that he loved her was not in the same way that she did him.
"I love you, yes. Of course I love you, brother." Saera smiled, blinking once then twice, trying to gauge a reaction.
"I am not just your brother, Saera. I am your future husband, you must love me as you would one." Jacaerys scolded, though Saera did not understand. Or she did but tried not to understand, because ignoring her fate was better than embracing it.
"I do love you as a husband." She said simply, not meaning it. She would never love Jacaerys as he did her, it was clear to her. Saera was ten years of age, but not at all daft. She was a princess, like her mother, and she too would be trapped in a loveless marriage like her mother and many Targaryen women before her.
She read all about it with her Septa. It was a curse, the Septa said. Not a single Targaryen woman was ever happy, the Septa said. Saera was due for the same future. That one she concluded on her own, the Septa did not have to tell her.
She wondered if every other girl of her age felt an impending doom for their futures, or if it was just her. She wondered if other girls had to convince themselves to love someone they did not.
Saera wondered if her mother had felt what she was feeling when she learned of her betrothal to Laenor Velaryon. She wondered if perhaps that unhappiness in her marriage was what led her mother to seek refuge in her Kingsguard. Saera's mind wondered a lot, she was a kind and quiet princess but she noticed everything. She watched everyone, and studied them like specimens.
