Guided by the Fourteen Flames of Old Valyria, Valarr Targaryen, Bastard of the Blackwater, restores glory to a house that would rather forget his name.
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HOUSE OF THE DRAGON
SEASON 1
MALE OC X AEMOND TARGARYEN
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110 AC
In the bowels of the Red Keep, deep in a catacomb bathed in candlelight, sat a young boy with hair as dark as raven feathers.
Valarr Targaryen was a boy of four. His eyes, a bright amethyst hue, stared at the hulking dragon skull on the dais before him. Although the catacomb was silent, Valarr still listened. He listened to the whispers that leaked from the eyeless sockets of Balerion's skull. They spoke to him sometimes, even though Valarr could not say anything in return, at least not properly. His voice, hoarse from his spending his days screaming as an infant, would not let him. So instead, Valarr would hum, soft and promising.
The skull of Balerion is Valarr's sanctuary. No one had ever disturbed him here — not Rhaenyra, who only ever talked to him during dinner; not Aegon and Helaena, who only ever cried or tugged on his hair; not Queen Alicent, who only ever tried to make him pray in the Sept of false gods; not even his cousin, the King, who only tries his best to include him in his busy life.
Valarr Targaryen is a bastard. The Blackwater Babe. Although legitimized a few days after his mother's death, he knew it changed nothing. His hair was not silver, nor did he have a dragon. His eyes were the only sign of his Valyrian heritage. Valarr was not stupid, despite what some of the maesters think. He heard the words spoken by the lords and ladies of the court, by the maids and squires. He knows that their words are what King Viserys calls treason.
The whispers do not care. They recognize his blood, regardless of how it was acquired. It is why Valarr now sits at the foot of Balerion's skull.
Queen Alicent had entered her labours some few hours ago. It was her third pregnancy, an unsurprising one that hailed less praise than her first. The Queen's cries echoed through the Red Keep, a stark contrast to the muted atmosphere of the catacomb. This babe would be born in the hands of the maesters, warmed by cleansing water and wrapped in expensive cloth, unlike Valarr, who had been birthed on stone and graced by the same candlelight that now illuminated his face.
The whispers say this babe will be born of fire and blood. They call him Harbinger; of what, Valarr does not know, but they sing his praise nonetheless. He thinks it is sad. He can imagine what it is like to have a fate decided for you upon birth. Within the Seven Kingdoms, Valarr has no inheritance, no title and no purpose. The highborn lords and ladies deemed it so. What Valarr does have are the whispers.
In spite of the Queen's efforts to enlighten him, Valarr does not worship the old gods or the new. In all honesty, the concept of worship is still foreign to him. As far as he knows, Queen Alicent does not hear whispers like he does. She spends hours in the Sept expecting her prayers to yield answers and blessings and receives none. Valarr simply listens. Though, as he sat before the skull of the Great Balerion, he supposed that it wouldn't hurt to ask. So, he prays in the form of a melody meant only to be heard by the whispers — by the Fourteen Flames, the dragon gods of Old Valyria.
