Zephyr Baratheon is the true Baratheon heir of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister.
When Zephyr was born, Cersei expected Blonde hair and Blue eyes, like her son Joffery. She did not think that she was pregnant with Robert's child and she hated ev...
It's been quite a while since she's been here, in her safe place. She never felt the need to come up here in the tower with the most perfect outlook on the capital, but since her father, King Robert had passed, her anxiety basically screamed bloody murder for her to get up there.
Her father had decorated the place to Zephyr's liking when she was younger. They used to come up here and gaze at the millions of stars in the night sky and stay up until they could see the sunrise.
Zephyr's little safe place had a sofa, a table, a bookshelf full of books, a nice deep red carpet covering the floor, but most importantly, the sketches and little drawings. As a child, the little princess loved to draw and paint, putting her creativity to good use. But over time, she began to lose the will to continue on and stay motivated since she barely came up here.
Snapping out of her little daydream of memories, Zephyr finally noticed the pain soaring through her arm. She glanced down at it to see it's gotten quite a bit bloody, the wounds feeling like its on a low vibration, feeling her blood flow out of them.
She sat down on the sofa and took a closer look at her arm, fascinated. It almost felt satisfying in a weird and sickly twisted way, but satisfying, nonetheless.
Was that why King Robert loved hunting? Was that what he meant when he kept saying "Killing things calms me"? Zephyr never really took a close look at a dying man in general, but now that she saw it up close, she felt calm. She wasn't upset, or angry.
She was alive after her mother had pretty much threatened, she would murder her if she had no other choice. It felt like a drug. The thrill. The excitement. The knowledge of what happens after. She loved it all, and when the smell of blood, almost overwhelmingly metallic so much so that she could nearly taste it, hit her, she wasn't actually sure what got into her.
She had fought before, yes. However, she never was in a true battle, nor did she ever really kill a man. Sure, she saw many people die but she was certain that even Joffrey would feel different if he had killed someone himself, instead of commanding someone to kill for him.
Once Zephyr let out a breath, she didn't know she was holding, she came to the realization she'd been staring at her bloody arm for over an hour now. The girl frowned and shook head, as if physically shaking away those thoughts that in this current moment seemed bizarre to her and was sure if she had told anyone about her thoughts right now, she'd be sent away to be with the sisters.
She noticed there wasn't any water to help clean up her arm, so she was left with no other choice than to return to her chambers, preferably unseen. She didn't know how she was to be unseen when being covered in blood pretty much, but she also noticed planning way ahead of time didn't really work with her luck, so she'd have to wing it.
The princess made her way down the tower and headed in the direction of her room and when she was almost there, Lord Varys seemingly appeared behind the girl.
"What would cause the princess to sneak around in her own home?" He asked until he noticed the arm. "Oh, dear."
"Don't ask. All I will say is, mother." Zephyr said before he could go on with his riddles like he usually would.
Varys sighed and nodded. He already knew what happened of course. His birds were everywhere, and he was actually searching for her to make sure she was actually alive and not a rotting corpse somewhere in the dungeons.
"Come. Let's clean you up, my princess." Varys said as he followed her to her room.
They were sat on her bed as Varys cleaned off the dried blood on her arm. It was a comfortable silence. Sometimes the pair didn't even need to use words to communicate since a glance was often more than enough.
"You have a question in your mind, princess." Varys stated after glancing at the younger girl. "It would be a shame to keep someone's curious thoughts a secret."
"What is it like to kill someone?" Zephyr wasted no time once Varys was finished speaking. As soon as she asked that, the eunuch stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her, like really looked at her.
"Please don't tell me you're planning on massacring your family." Varys stated, fearing for what the princess was getting at.
"What? No. No no no. You misunderstood." Zephyr quickly said, "When I was bleeding, it felt nearly calming to look at it, in a way."
"Like father, like daughter I say." Varys sighed, "And to answer your question, I wouldn't know. I've never killed anyone myself, though the thought is tempting sometimes when speaking to Lord Baelish."
Varys resumed cleaning off the blood and tending to her arm. It wasn't a big deal so neither of them really needed to get Maester Pycelle involved. The pair simply didn't trust the old suspicious man.
"Yeah, well that thought is very tempting when I see my mother and Joffrey." Zephyr looked away from her arm and stared out of the window.
"Everything needs time to work out, my princess." Varys sighed. "You just need to be patient."
"I don't want to be patient, though. I'd rather run away and never return to this Capital ever again." Zephyr spoke, growing frustrated with the whole situation Joffrey had put them in.
"You have to be patient, Zephyr. It pains me too, yes. But I shall not let you leave all on your own. You'd need help, and an ear." Varys stated.
"I'll drink to that one, Lord Varys."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
