𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐎𝐚𝐭𝐡

If Snakes Could Talk

As Thereya opened the door, her eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected sight of Otto Hightower standing before her.

Helaena, who had been sharing a joyful moment with Thereya moments ago, went silent. The warmth that had adorned her face shifted to an expression of uncertainty as the unexpected visitor disrupted the atmosphere. Otto's presence was often associated with political intricacies, and the sudden appearance raised questions about the nature of his visit.

Otto, maintaining a composed demeanor, directed his gaze at Thereya. "Princess Thereya," he acknowledged with a nod, "may we speak in private?" His request held a certain formality, and the weight behind his words hinted at the potential weight of the conversation to come. Thereya, still adjusting to the unexpected turn of events, nodded hesitantly and stepped outside of Helaena's chambers, the door closing behind them, leaving Helaena with a sense of unease lingering in the room.

Thereya, clad in the elegant gown, left the chambers with Otto Hightower, the air fraught with a certain tension that accompanied the unexpected meeting. As they walked down the hall, Otto brought their pace to a stop with a thoughtful expression.

"I realize we haven't had the opportunity for a proper introduction," Otto began, his tone measured. "I am Otto Hightower, Hand of the King and, in some matters, an ally to House Targaryen. Circumstances have led me here to discuss matters of importance."

Thereya, though taken aback by the sudden turn of events, listened attentively as Otto introduced himself.

Just as Thereya was about to introduce herself, "There's no need for formalities, Princess Thereya," Otto interjected, cutting off any attempt at self-introduction. "I am well aware of who you are and your lineage. You are Daemon's daughter, and your presence here holds significance."

Thereya, somewhat surprised by Otto's directness, nodded in acknowledgment. The weight of being acknowledged as Daemon's legitimate daughter, rather than being labeled a bastard, hung in the air.

"There's more to me than just my lineage," Thereya's voice resonated, carrying a depth of emotion. "I am the girl who traveled all the way from Dorne to Kings Landing, the girl who survived. My journey defines me just as much as my bloodline, if not more."

Her words held a poignant truth, a testament to the resilience and strength that had brought her to this point. In that moment, Thereya stood not just as a Targaryen princess, but as a survivor, shaped by the trials and tribulations of her own odyssey.

Otto regarded Thereya with a discerning gaze, a hint of acknowledgment in his eyes. "You carry within you the essence of resilience and strength," he remarked, his voice reflecting a rare sincerity. "That's what it takes to move people, to shape destinies. Your journey, your survival, it's a testament to the very qualities that can inspire others."

Thereya, absorbing Otto's words, felt a surge of unexpected affirmation. It was a recognition of the intangible strength within her, a quality that transcended the complexities of noble bloodlines.

Thereya, her eyes searching for clarity, asked with a touch of directness, "What is your point, Lord Otto? What is it that you wished to discuss?"

Otto Hightower, a man often enigmatic in his dealings, met her gaze with a calculated intensity. "There are matters of great import at play, Princess. The future of House Targaryen hangs in the balance, and your role in it is pivotal. I've come to discuss the path ahead, one that may define the fate of this noble house."

Thereya, despite the weight of the conversation, maintained a cautious distance. A subtle acknowledgment passed through her eyes, a recognition that Otto Hightower was a man of calculated wit, known for his political acumen and cunning strategies. In the intricate dance of power, she understood the importance of keeping a guard.

Thereya, as they were about to enter the courtyard, cast a discerning glance around the hall to ensure their privacy. Satisfied that they were alone, she made her way to a stone bench and took a seat. Otto joined her at the other end of the bench, the open space between them emphasizing the weight of the impending conversation.

Once Thereya was assured of their solitude, she gave Otto a nod, a silent permission for him to speak his mind.

Otto, choosing his words with a certain gravity, began, "Princess Thereya, I am genuinely concerned about the marriage propositions circulating within House Targaryen. Princess Rhaenyra has suggested the possibility of you marrying Jacaerys Velaryon."

Thereya, attentive to every nuance in Otto's words, felt a twinge of surprise at the revelation. However, her guard went up, and she responded firmly, "I am not a broodmare to be paired at will. My worth and choices extend beyond political unions. What is the true intention behind such proposals?" The courtyard, bathed in a silent tension, became a backdrop for the unfolding drama that would shape the destiny of those involved.

Otto Hightower spoke to Thereya with a sly, measured tone, carefully weaving his words into a subtle tapestry of suggestion.

"You are right, Princess," he began, a semblance of agreement in his voice. "Your worth and choices should not be confined by political unions. However, one must also acknowledge the delicate dance of power that surrounds us."

Pausing for a moment, Otto's gaze lingered on Thereya, his words carrying an undertone of suggestion. "Consider this, marrying the King's son, Aegon, would undoubtedly elevate your status and influence within the realm. It may grant you the autonomy you seek while aligning with the strategic interests of House Targaryen." The courtyard, once silent, now resonated with the weight of political maneuvering, leaving Thereya to navigate the intricate path laid before her.

Otto, ever the sly strategist, decided to manipulate the delicate threads of Thereya's desires. "You're right, Princess," he concurred with a seemingly understanding nod. "Choosing Aegon could indeed upset your father, Daemon. It might weigh on him, disturb his nights, and one can only imagine the turmoil it would create within House Targaryen."

Thereya, her guard momentarily lowered, listened to Otto's words. Little did she know, Otto was subtly playing on the chords of her desire for revenge, knowing that the idea of causing unrest to Daemon struck a chord within her.

Thereya, caught in the web of conflicting emotions, found herself battling the storm of thoughts that Otto's words had stirred. Revenge against her father, Daemon, simmered beneath the surface, an ember fueled by the suggestion that choosing Aegon could disrupt his peace.

Thereya, in the midst of her internal struggle, couldn't help but envision the potential consequences of marrying Aegon. The thought of Aegon bedding her, his drunken escapades, and the challenges of constantly pulling him back from the abyss of his inebriated state painted a vivid picture in her mind.

In the quiet recesses of her thoughts, Thereya wrestled with the notion of marrying Aegon. The realization that she might be forced into a union, a fate entwined with the complexities of noble expectations, tugged at the edges of her resolve.

Yet, as she contemplated this potential path, a palpable sense of betrayal gnawed at her. The image of herself, akin to a bird without wings, unable to soar freely, struck a chord deep within her spirit. The conflict between societal expectations and her longing for autonomy cast a shadow on the contemplation of a union that seemed to sacrifice the very essence of who she was.

The courtyard, witness to her internal struggle, held the echoes of a princess torn between the demands of duty and the yearning for unfettered freedom.

As the weight of Thereya's internal conflict lingered, before she could offer any response, Alicent, with a practiced grace that hid her concern, emerged from behind Otto. She addressed him with a poised yet inquisitive tone, "Father?"