The Dragons and Their Sun (aemond/oc)

aurora III

The week following Mya taking her letter was filled with fidgeting, pacing, and little sleep. She reread her book at least three times, absorbing as much information as she could before it had to be taken away. She spent hours meticulously copying her family tree onto one of her parchments before she stuffed said parchment under her mattress. She pulled it out every night to look at it before she slept. The nerves never left during the week of waiting, but the guilt occasionally left for a bit before returning.

She was a horrible daughter, she had decided. It was too late to unsend her letter, but it wasn't too late to feel bad about it. Her father made sure she was safe and cared for her entire life, and this is how to repays him? By messaging the family he tried so desperately to keep her from? The first three days were spent by Aurora telling herself that if she received a response, she wouldn't read it. After all, she had just wanted to alert them of her existence. It's not like she was running away. Besides, she was fairly certain her cousin wouldn't kill her like her father seemed to think. Rhaenyra couldn't kill her for her appearance if she never saw her.

The next three days were the worst. She had gotten another image flash on the fourth day of waiting. She didn't see the white-haired woman this time. She saw a red dragon; its limbs were longer than she thought they needed to be. He moved a bit weirdly, in her honest opinion. She thought he was cool, though. He was soaring through the sky, screeching wildly. Then, she heard a roar that seemingly came from her and she was torn from her vision. She didn't know what that meant. She was a tad disappointed to not see the smiling white-haired woman, though.

Day five was all pacing and practically attacking Mya when she came with her daily meal, "Did she reply yet!?"

Mya shook her head and placed her food on the table, "My lady, I have told you; when a reply comes, I will bring it to you right away. Until then, you must have patience."

Aurora groaned and flopped down on her bed, spreading her arms out so she formed a star on the mattress, "But, being patient is the worst!"

Mya just laughed at her and picked her up to place her in her chair, "I'm sure a reply will arrive soon."

Aurora grumbled and silently ate her food. What if Rhaenyra never wrote back? Does she write another member of her family? Does she give up? She didn't know.

Day six of waiting was lonely. Mya couldn't eat with her, so she ate alone. She hated the silence. She talked to herself to fill it. She loved her family, and they were her friends, but sometimes it felt like her best friend was herself. At least, she listened. On days like this, she desperately wished she could leave her tower for just a minute. She would even cover her skin and eyes if it meant touching new ground. She would never tell her father about these days.

Day seven started the same as it always did. She brushed her hair, changed her clothes, and got started on her daily activity. It was chess today. She was absolutely dreadful at the game, but she thought it was fun to try. She was currently losing against herself. She needed a power move to win. She was pondering her next move when she heard the squawk of a bird. Her head snapped to the window, and she tripped over the leg on her chair in her haste to get to the window. Ravens.

Her chess game was forgotten as she took to pacing around her room. Her room was approximately 40 steps long and 36 steps wide. Aurora thought it was vaguely fascinating how the number of steps changed as she grew. It was kind of fun to find out the new numbers, she thought. She ignored how the numbers decreased the bigger she grew. She lost track of the count of her laps as her mind wandered. If she were to ever meet her Targaryen family, would they think her hideous like her people here? She wouldn't blame them. She didn't know if she could handle someone flinching away from her, though, like her father did sometimes. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Of course, he flinched away. Her blood glowed, and her eyes danced. She looked at her gloved hands for a moment. She liked how normal she looked like this. She used to sleep in her gloves, but she hated waking up with wrinkled fingers and wet hands. So now, she just puts them on when she wakes, but takes them off for bed.