The arrow flew through the air, burying itself in the target, many inches away from where she was aiming. Visenya breathed harshly, sharp air blowing from her nose and giving way to her frustrations.

Lucinda had come to know a lot about the Princess she served. Visenya was often like a creature - in the way she moved, the way her body tensed before attacking. Visenya was often not one for words - tongue tied within moments - but her body always gave the signs of what she was feeling, it was just something you had to learn. 

And Lucinda was nothing, if not a diligent study. 

She smiled, lips tugging slightly, observing the tension that clung to Visenya's bones, muscles hard and taunt - the problem of the equation.

"You're too tense." 

Visenya's brows furrowed - a small crinkle presenting itself between the brows. Lucinda often itches to smooth out the worried lines, almost wishing to see Visenya more relaxed and loose than she often is - more tense and rigid than a girl her age should be.

Lucinda smiled once again, moving closer to the Princess. She gestured for Visenya to draw again, the princess huffing only once - an accomplishment from her usual complaining - and doing as told. Lucinda's eyes watch the lithe body, gaze caught on the flexed muscles. Visenya's tunic rides up just a little bit to give show to the smooth skin of her stomach, the smallest outline of muscles showing on display. Lucinda's fingers twitch - the want to run her touch along the unmarked skin at the forefront of her mind.

A clearing of throat breaks Lucinda from her staring, gaze darting up to connect with a violet one. Visenya's eyes stare into her own, the tiniest hint of smugness flickering in those violent irises. It contrasts with the light blush that has coated her pale cheeks - trailing all the way up to the tips of her ears.

Lucinda feels that same heat rush to her own cheeks, forcing herself to look away from those enchanting eyes. It is true what they say, Targaryen's are closer to gods than men.

"You need to be more loose when firing." Lucinda's hand hovers over Visenya's arm, gaze darting to hers, skin only touching when Visenya gives a nod in return. Lucinda can feel the strength in the arms, the raw power that the Princess held. She feels that same strength tense, before loosening under her touch.

"Strong core." Her fingers feather over the tunic covering her stomach, the muscles already tense and rigid underneath. "Look where you want the arrow to go." She lightly moves the bow, adjusting the aim. "Brace yourself, feel the sturdy ground beneath you, feel the wind and which way it blows."

Lucinda lightly presses against the small of Visenya's back, feeling it arch slightly. Her hand remains there, neither woman commenting on it. With the height of the Princess - even in her young age - Lucinda barely comes above her shoulder, chin resting on the rounded limb.

"Breathe deep... hold....and loose!"

The arrow flies through the air with a snap, darting with a speed like no other and embedding into the target - much closer to the center than before.

Lucinda hums, "Better."

"Still not good enough." Visenya lightly grumbles, tense limbs dropping to her sides.

Lucinda breathes a laugh, "It is not a skill that is learned so easily, Princess." She gently takes the bow from Visenya, knocking an arrow to the string, drawing it - breathing slow and controlled as she lines up the shot. She pauses for a moment, listening and feeling the way the wind blows in the air, core tense and braced. She breathes out slowly - letting the string go at the last second.

It hits dead center.

Visenya scoffs, small smile of admiration fighting away her sounds of jealousy. "Show off."

Lucinda returns the smile, a feeling of pride pooling in her belly. There was not much she could be proud of - but her archery was something she treasured. Her skill with a bow.

"It is something you must work at, Princess." She returns the bow to its place, Visenya doing the same. "Like your skill with a blade."

"I much prefer it." Visenya's hand unconsciously travel to the handle of her dagger, attached at her thigh. "It is easier to kill a man up close rather than farther away."

"Much easier to get killed that way in turn." 

Visenya shrugs, smug pull of her lips giving sight to a white grin. "They can try."

Lucinda laughs, "How arrogant of you, Princess."

"I believe I have warranted it." Visenya smiled, "At least some."

Lucinda hums - neither disagreeing nor agreeing with the words. Visenya turns to look at the sea that surrounds Dragonstone, a wistful look growing upon her face - in the purse of her lips and the furrow of her brows. Lucinda often saw the Princess like this, like she was searching for something. In her short two years of service, she had come to know the Princess she served.

"What is it?"

Visenya glances at her for a moment, smile itching to tug at her lips. "It's nothing."

"It is something." Lucinda hums. "You have that look in your eye."

"What look?" Visenya scoffs.

"Like you're thinking of doing something foolish."

Lucinda watches the princess grow quiet, her gaze returning to over the sea - towards over the Narrow Sea.

"I've been exchanging ravens with Lord Corlys." Visenya admits into the air. "After my fa...." The words die on her tongue, like the last burning embers of a fire. Lucinda pretends not to know the reason for the trail of her words. "After Ser Laenor died, my grandsire left to fight in the Step Stones once again."

Lucinda stared for a moment, realization drawing in her veins like poison. "You wish to join him."

The tick in Visenya's jaw pulses, clenching so tightly her teeth grind. "He is vulnerable..."

"It is war, Visenya!" Lucinda grinds out. "You wish to walk to your death."

"I will not die -"

"You do not know that." Lucinda stared, disbelief and astonishment clouding her usually stoic features. "Why?"

"I am restless here." Visenya huffs, beginning to pace along the ground as she cracked her knuckles. "The Hightowers warm the throne, and sooner or late, they will find an opportunity to diminish my mother further now that she is absent from the city. It is prudent to show our strength - I must show my strength."

Lucinda scoffs, shaking her head. "Gods, Visenya."

"I have been at the mercy of others before." Lucinda's eyes dart to the scar that marked Visenya's temple, the skin still puckered and jagged even in its healed state. "Never again. I can learn nothing here - these knights cannot teach me what it means to live in battle. Corlys is one of the only people who was steadfast in mine and my brothers status as his grandchildren. What type of granddaughter am I, if I refuse to come to his aid at a time like this?"

Lucinda breathes, sharp and furious. Though she cannot fault Visenya. She herself understands the wants of helping ones family - her family had feuded with the Bracken's enough - Lucinda herself petitioning herself to join within the battles. 

"Does your mother know?"

Visenya smiles briefly, a taunting thing - as if Lucinda had just told a hilarious joke. "Not at present."

"Visenya." The disappointed drawl in her tone leaves a foreign feeling in Visenya's veins - something that has her feeling the need to coil inwards, revulsion underneath her skin. 

"I will tell her." Visenya assures, ignoring the tingling beneath her skin at Lucinda's stare. An eager grin pulls at her lips. "You could come with me."

Lucinda laughs, incredulous. "What?"

"We have talked about it often enough."  Visenya continues. "Together, in battle."

"That was talk, Princess." Lucinda blurts out. "What you speak of is actual war - wherein there is a very high possibility of falling to an enemies sword."

"Not if I can help it."

Lucinda breathes a short laugh. "You cannot control death, Visenya. You have no say in if I were to die on those sands."

Visenya clenches her jaw, fingers trailing over the handle of her dagger. An absentminded tick she had developed - an insight to her raging thoughts. "I would never let anything happen to you."

"I know." Lucinda nodded, wishing to take those frantic fingers into her own and soothe the digits until they fell still. She could not - she should not - it was not her place. "But you can't always be here - especially if you are looking to go running into battle. Have you even thought about what it could do to your mother? Your brothers?"

She had not, in truth. Ever since Laenor's passing, Visenya has felt.... out of place. She had never built a relationship with her supposed father - could not connect with him in a way that her brothers could. Jace and Luke, they loved Laenor - even if they had some knowledge of the truth - they could laugh and play with him in ways Visenya could not. Laenor was supposed to be her father - but he had never acted like it. Gone more often than he was there. 

And now he was gone, in someplace she could never follow. She could not get her questions answered - her questions of why she was not good enough? why did he not love her like a daughter? Why was she left to the side by him?  

She needed answers - she needed to know she was good enough. That she was worth it - as a daughter, as an heir, as a sister...

Where better to find her worth - as a warrior - than in a battlefield?

She needed to do this for herself - she had worked hard to protect her brothers, forget her own needs in favour of theirs.

This was something she needed for her. 

"I have served you faithfully, Princess." Lucinda says, "So hear me when I say, think long and hard about this decision."

Visenya huffs, nodding in concede. Lucinda smiles for a moment, happy with her victory over the stubborn Princess. 

....

Visenya thought, she thought long, laboured over her decision for days, weeks even. She thought - for the first time in a long time - of the consequences of her actions. How it could affect those around her. Left her hesitant, where she was usually decisive and brash. Careful, where she was usually reckless. 

Lucinda's words haunted her every step.

It was something she hated about her - Lucinda had this ability to make her doubt herself. It was annoying, frustrating, how this person has such an affect on her - it made her irritated at best, provoked anger at worst. 

Her lady-in-waiting was her worst enemy.

Especially during a game like chess.

"You going to make a move or...?"

"Shut up." Visenya glared up at her, Lucinda's smug face spiking her annoyance. Her gaze returned to the game, looking over each piece with a calculating look. She was at a disadvantage, Lucinda catching her off guard many times - therefore sacrificing some of Visenya's best plays. 

Visenya clenches her fist, hovering over one piece for a short moment, before moving it.

Lucinda raises a brow, smug smirk still on her face. "Well played." Visenya smiles for a moment, believing herself to be on the way to victory. That is before she notices Lucinda's smirk has not fallen. She leans forward, picking up her own piece. "But not well enough. Check mate."

Visenya's gaze snaps to the board - proving that Lucinda was right, as she had trapped Visenya's king, and had captured him as a result. Visenya scowled, shoving the board away, pieces flying astray. Lucinda laughs, leaning back with a delightful grin Visenya wishes she could wipe off those perfect, plump lips.

"Don't be so annoyed, Princess." Lucinda hums, picking up the pieces where they had landed, curled hair falling in front of her face. "It took years for me to beat mine own sister at this game. She was far more smug than I."

"I severely doubt it." Visenya grumbled, playing with her dagger that she twirled between her fingers. 

Lucinda smiled, amused at Visenya's petulant sulking. Visenya felt her own lips twitch with the want to smile - a further affect Lucinda seemed to hold over her - and she turned her stare away, so that she could not be tempted by those forest eyes.

"What is it like?" Lucinda asks, Visenya's brows furrowing.

"What is what like?"

"Dragon riding." Lucinda shrugs at Visenya's curious look. "You hold power some men would die for. I wish to know what all the fuss is about."

Visenya hummed, blade twirling between lithe fingers. The appendages held enough scars from years of doing the same nervous tick - something she had never seemed to let die, no matter how many times she hurt herself.

"Freeing." She finally answers. "The first time I flew upon Cannibal's back... it was like I had found a part of myself I did not know was lost." She smiled lightly, memory trailing back to that exhilarating moment. "It is cruel, when a creature who desires to fly is born without its wings."

"I had heard..." Lucinda trails, and Visenya sometimes hates it when the lady grows nervous around her. "That your egg had gone cold in the cradle."

"Yes." The knife twirled and twirled, Visenya watching with an absent interest. "When I was young, it used to fill me with a certain... hatred, that I was the only one out of my siblings to be denied the freedom of the skies, the special bond that grows between dragon and man. Now I know, Cannibal is the only mount meant for me, for which I am grateful for those years." The dagger stills in her hand, her stare moving to the lady. "It means I will never take advantage of him - I have lived a life without him, to be parted would be like chopping a limb from my body."

Lucinda listened with rapt attention - the Princess speaking of the beast with an absurd amount of fondness for something that feasted upon its own kind. Though she supposes it is something she could not understand - the bond that had harboured between Visenya and the Cannibal, two creatures that hungered for a fight. It was always spoken that the Princess was "wild and barbaric, a disgrace for a lady of her standing" - in the Queen's own words - and Lucinda supposes it is true in some ways.

Visenya is wild, but not the barbaric kind. She is wild like the wind, blowing freely wherever she wishes. Wild like a storm, whose thunder was loud, and lightning dangerous. Wild like a caged animal that longed to be freed. But she was not barbaric, she was not a brute, nor was she a disgrace. She was a daughter, a sister, and an heir who had known the mercy of others too early in life - developing a savage kind of protectiveness, where she would do anything for the safety of her loved ones.

"It sounds as if you have certainly developed a bond with him, Princess."

Visenya smiled a hum, head lolling limply against the head rest until she came to stare at Lucinda through deep violet gaze. It was an enrapturing sort of stare, one that left Lucinda locked in place, caught in its enchantment. 

A rapid knock to the door captured their attention, Visenya frowning at whoever had interrupted the small quiet between the two.

"Who is it?"

"Me, sister."

Visenya smiled, small grin stretching over white teeth. "Come in, Jace. Don't dawdle."

The door cracked open, the growing prince stepping into the room. Lucinda stood straight, bowing her head lightly at his presence.

"My Prince."

Jace nodded in return. "Lady Blackwood."

Visenya grinned further, dagger still twirling between her fingers. "What brings you to my side of the castle, brother?"

Jace smiled lightly, "Mother calls us for supper, she requests you bring the Lady Blackwood with you." He grinned further at Visenya's look of surprise - not easy to see, only the slight widening of her gaze, the pausing of her fidgeting. "And also, a letter has arrived for you."

Visenya sat straighter, holding her hand out until Jace dropped the rolled parchment within her palm. Her fingers worked diligently to crack the three headed dragon seal, gaze raking over the words within. 

"You have been speaking with grandsire."

His tone was one of accusations, gaze boring into Visenya's head - not breaking until she finally turned to look at him - lilac eyes that held a striking resemblance to their mother's locking with her own.

"Yes." She admitted, gripping the letter within her palm after she had read it, "Is that a crime?"

"You have never so much as exchanged words within him these past years." Jace continued, "Why the sudden change?"

Visenya shrugs, "Things have changed. Mayhaps I wish to grow closer to our grandsire, learn the ways of the sailor."

Jace scoffed a laugh, smiling as if Visenya had just told a jest. "You hate the sea, and ships. An grandsire is fighting within the Step Stones, what could possibly have grabbed your interest? And don't lie to me."

Visenya stared at him, sighing as she gently grabbed him by his shoulders, keeping their gazes locked. Pained as she was to admit it, Jace was growing up and could not for much longer be shielded from everything. 

"Alright." She nods, "I won't lie. I have been corresponding with Corlys on his venture within the Step Stones. He is in need, and it is my desire to offer him that help."

All he did was stare for a moment, frozen under her grip. Visenya could almost see the wheels turning in his head, behind his gaze, contemplating her words. Finally, disbelief spread across every inch of his features, and Visenya almost hated herself for the betrayal shined in his gaze.

"What?" His brows furrowed in that furious way of his, lips pulled into a frown, anger glinting behind lilac gaze. "You wish to join him... in war. You want to leave to fight on some faraway sands, you wish to leave us and walk to your death!"

"Quiet!" Visenya hissed at him, gaze flicking to the door over his shoulder - Wary and cautious of any listening ears beside their own. "Of course I do not wish to leave! But Corlys is in need of dragon riders, and it would be a shock if the Queen even considered offering her own pups. It is my duty as heir to protect the realm. Helping Corlys is how I do that."

"Mother will never allow it." Jace argued, "You know this."

"Yes." Visenya holds up the letter between her fingers. "But she cannot fight a royal permission."

Jace's gaze locked onto the parchment, fingers snapping to snatch it from her grip, his own eyes darting over each and every word. The anger, disbelief, and thinly conceal shock grows more and more with each sentence. 

Visenya's gaze darts, for just a moment, to where Lucinda stands. Her heart aches painfully at Lucinda's look of disbelief, of hurt, of shock. Clearly she had not thought this was the route Visenya would go with her words - perhaps believing Visenya would drop the matter entirely. But Visenya had done as she asked - she had thought long and hard on the subject - it was no fault of her own if she had reached a conclusion others did not like. 

"You are mad." Jace finally utters.

Visenya shrugs once again. "Maybe." Her palms cup his cheeks, shifting his head until their gazes locked, the wince at the tears that glazed his eyes. "It is my duty, as mother's heir, and as your sister, to ensure we are protected. I failed at that during Driftmark. If I am ever to be a Queen, I must learn how to manage all parts of the realm - even the ones that seem insignificant. The war in the Step Stones is perhaps a small inconvenience, but small things can grow." A rue smile spreads across her lips, fingers soothing through his thick curls. "You are evidence enough of that."

Jace sniffs, gaze darting down as if to hide his tears, to be as strong as his sister was. In all their years of life, Jace could count on one hand the number of times his sister had cried. She was wanton to show weakness, a grim wisdom within her violet gaze much too early in her years. 

"How long will you be gone?"

A sigh, heavy and burdened upon shoulders that have learned to bear its weight. "I don't know."

Jace sighed wetly, narrowing his gaze as if that would keep the tears at bay. His angry frown only grew more and more, lines marring his youthful face. Visenya felt him tense beneath her palms, only moment before he shoves the letter into her chest and rips himself from her grip, storming from the room in a fury.

Visenya watches him go for a moment, palm coming to cradle the letter and the ache left from his hit before she was chasing after him.

"Jace!" 

He marched only a few feet ahead of her. Footsteps stomping through the stone halls, as Visenya's own long legs worked to catch up to him. She could hear the echo of Lucinda behind her, following her Princess in her path. 

"Jace, wait!"

He did not wait, his gait did not slow, his head never turned to look back at her even once. He gave no sign of acknowledging her before he was bursting through the dining room doors - ignoring the guards who watched the royal children with thinly concealed shock and interest.

"Jacaerys?" Their mother's stare shifted between the two of them - a teary eyed Jace, with a righteous anger burning behind his eyes, Visenya's dishevelled appearance, strange parchment held within her grasp, and Lucinda who had trailed in behind them - confusion was in her gaze. "What has happened?"

Jace's fiery gaze flicked to his sister - his elder sister of whom he had followed since a young boy, trailing after her steps, wishing to follow her anywhere and everywhere - and for the first time, he felt furious at her. 

"Visenya has petitioned, and gained permission, from Kings Landing to follow Lord Corlys into the Step Stones and to war."

"What?!"

Visenya winced at the screams of outrage directed at her - felt her mother's stare bear into her skull, Luke's innocent gaze already filling with tears, Rhaena's frown, Daemon's unrelenting stare with eyes the same shade of hers. 

"Visenya." Rhaenyra's voice was sharp, like that of a blade, and it cut into Visenya's skin with no mercy. "Explain."

Visenya fidgeted, fingers dancing along the handle of her dagger, slowly lifting her gaze to connect with her mother's. She saw the worry, the barely hidden fear behind that lilac colour, and it pained her, to cause such a thing to her mother of all people. 

"These past months I have corresponded with Lord Corlys of his time in the Step Stones. He is vulnerable, and in need of aid. He needs a dragon." She held up the parchment within her fingers, "I have just received permission from the court to proceed, and ride Cannibal into battle alongside the Sea Snake."

Daemon shoved away from his chair, marching to pluck the letter from her fingers. He stared down at her - the height between them grew ever shorter as Visenya grew more and more. She met his stare with her own, resilient and unyielding that she was. 

Daemon glanced down at the paper, scoffing as he read the words before passing it to Rhaenyra. The woman removed her gaze from her daughter - with an almighty difficulty - and read the letter word for word, cross frown worming further into the lines of her face the more she read.

"This has Otto Hightower written all over it." Daemon scoffs, shaking his head, regarding Visenya with a rueful look. "It is he who has allowed this, in the hopes you might find yourself on the end of someone's sword, and you are a fool for following it."

Visenya glared at him, full of heat and anger. "Such little faith in your blood, Daemon."

"Silence." Rhaenyra ordered, eyes still locked on the letter. Her eyes drifted up to her daughter, Visenya bearing witness to the disappointment behind them. It killed her - like a stab to the gut, though she was sure that would hurt less - to have produced such an emotion from her mother. "He is right. You wish to fly to your death."

"I wish to fight for our family!" Visenya argued, "Or has Laenor's death deprived you of that knowledge that Corlys is my grandsire." The underlying meaning was not lost on Rhaenyra, nor Daemon, the two sharing looks between them. "Is it not my duty as your heir to learn how to manage the matters of the realm, no matter how small and insignificant?"

"Yes, but not in situations that could lead to your death!" Rhaenyra shook her head. "You are not a warrior, Visenya. You are a girl barely grown. From the way you act now, I could hardly even call you that."

"I am your daughter." Visenya stared, refusing to let the words cut her deeply. A warrior she may not be yet, but she was still a Targaryen - and she would fight where it was due. Her fire could not be contained. "I am a Targaryen, as you have repeated over the years. I will fight for my family, Lord Corlys is blood."

"You are a fool if you think we would allow this." Daemon says.

"Even you are not so powerful to fight a royal permission." Visenya returns, fighting the smirk that threatens to worm onto her face. "Of which I have been granted."

Silence overtakes the hall, all staring at the young Princess as she stands tall and resolute in her decision. Her gaze locked with her mother - Rhaenyra staring at her with fear, worry, anguish. It was not lost on what she was asking for - she was asking Rhaenyra allow her only daughter to fly into uncharted territories, where she could die, could fall to an enemies sword, and bleed out in the cursed sands. 

"Mother." Visenya slowly walks to the woman, standing before her. Rhaenyra is already reaching to cup her cheeks, Visenya sighing into the hold. "I know what I am asking of you. I understand the cost should I fail. But I wish for you to trust me, as your heir, as your daughter."

Rhaenyra's lips twitched with a smile - fondness in her gaze, remembering times years ago when Visenya would sneak away to play with her brothers, the three reenacting wars long fought, how she would somehow manage to snag an old training sword and would be found mimicking drills she had witnessed - and she stared at the girl before her, grown and matured, holding a grim look far too young in her life.

"I do trust you." Rhaenyra breathes a soft smile on her lips. "Of course I do, my girl." Her thumb soothes over the puckered skin of the scar that marred her daughter's face, stretching along her temple to the edge of her brow. "Very well, if this is what you wish."

Visenya's face alights, tense posture relaxing ever so slightly. 

"But..." Rhaenyra stops her, "You will travel with guards of our choosing, I will also expect a letter at the start and end of each month. Miss one deadline, I will fly there and drag you back myself."

Visenya knew it was not an empty threat, the steely look within the lilac gaze told her as such.

"I would further ask, that should you ever be called back here, for whatever reason, you will return straight away."

Rhaenyra kept their gazes locked, bearing into her daughter the seriousness of her demands. Visenya conceded with a nod.

"I will, I swear."

Rhaenyra smiled, small and only for a moment, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. "When would you leave?"

Visenya shrugged, "By the weeks end."

That was barely days away - only days she had left with her daughter before there was a chance she may never see her again. It was a damning sort of realisation, along with the knowledge that there was little she could do. Visenya's mind was set, and nought could be done to change it. Short of locking her away - of which she would never do - her daughter would continue to follow her own path.

"Daemon will select the guards to travel with you."  Rhaenyra declared.

"Myself too, Princess."

Visenya's head snapped to stare at the Blackwood girl. The shiver of shock that was racketed through her veins, at such a declaration from the girl who had served her these passing years. 

Lucinda returned her stare, firm and absolute. "Where the Princess goes, I go."

Visenya felt her surprise show, could barely contain the widening of her gaze and the rise of her brows at the undeniable loyalty that was being shown to her. 

"Lady Lucinda." Rhaenyra started, "We cannot ask you to continue your service - "

"You're not asking, Princess." Visenya could have laughed at the gall of cutting her mother off, "I will stay loyal to my service to the Princess Visenya, even if she is adamant to ride to war. I myself am skilled with a bow, I can more than take care of myself."

Rhaenyra shifted her gaze between Visenya and Lucinda, regarding the two young ladies with a look Visenya could not decipher, before she finally conceded with a sigh.

"Very well."

Visenya was ignorant to Daemon's scoff - her own eyes shifting from Jace's look of disbelief, a fresh round of tears shining in his gaze, Luke darting from his chair to slam into Visenya's legs, arms wrapped tight and refusing to let go. She felt her own chest ache at such an action, crouching to circle him with lithe limbs, holding him close. Rhaena herself was quiet, frown upon her face. Daemon wore a similar one, a hard and guarded look in his eyes that Visenya knew all too well - as she often wore a similar look herself. And Rhaenyra, who regarded her daughter with glazed eyes, soft, yet morose, smile on her face and anguish written into every feature.

Over it all, Visenya saw Lucinda Blackwood, her lady in waiting, a girl who had proved herself to be loyal.

And loyal she would stay.

....

The deep rumble that emitted from the giant beast in front of her drew a smile from Visenya, rough hands cloaked in gloves soothing over rough scales, as dark as the night. 

"Gīda, cannibal." Her tongue fell into the familiar language like a fish to water, "Emi iā raqiros lēda īlva." (Calm, Cannibal. We have a friend joining us.)

Cannibal shifted under her palm, massive snout moving away from her, blows of smoke emitting from nostrils, and terrifying teeth coming to display. Baleful green eyes stared into her own, a growl gritting behind large teeth. The beast himself was a humongous size - possibly the biggest dragon Lucinda had ever seen - Visenya looking like a mere ant waiting to be crushed.

Yet, Visenya smiled still, palm still soothing over hot scales.

Her head turned to stare over her shoulder, regarding Lucinda with a smile. The Blackwood girl herself seemed a step away from darting back towards the castle, as far away from the dragons as she could get.

"No need to seem so nervous, My lady." Visenya laughed, turning back to stare into Cannibal's gaze. "He will not harm you."

"I severely doubt it." Lucinda ground out. 

Visenya laughed once again, patting the rough scales, "Then you are smarter than most."

Lucinda still holds the same doubtfulness within her green gaze, Visenya grinning at her small shuffling, inching closer and closer until she stands only a few feet behind Visenya. 

Cannibal moves his stare to the new comer, growl beginning to rumble from his throat, and snarl snaking its way onto his lips. 

"Gīda." Visenya repeats. (Calm.)

It does little to settle the wild beast, famously known for being untaimable. Until Visenya herself had completed a task others died trying to - she had claimed the most fearsome and dangerous dragon there was - the Cannibal who feasted upon his own kind, an ugly creature in truth, with sharp horns protruding from its massive head, baleful eyes that were a bright green, whose fire was rumoured to be the same colour as wildfyre. 

Cannibal snarled louder, head itching forward, teeth bared, and Lucinda could feel the heat begin to rise - stepping back in fear. 

"daor." Visenya glared, holding a palm out to Cannibal as she inched backwards, using herself as a barrier between her temperamental mount and the lady within her care. 

Cannibal payed little heed to her words, only focus upon the stranger that dared to lurk closer to him. He snarled, growl becoming louder and more terrifying, Lucinda frozen in place as the beast heaved himself up, massive head staring down at them, smoke spiraling from lips and snout. 

"Move away." Visenya orders, Lucinda following without argument. "Don't come near again."

Lucinda nods, though Visenya cannot see it. The Princess speaks in soothing tones, slowly itching forward the more the beast calms - as calm as can be expected of a dragon as wild as him. 

Visenya saw a group of figures appear from the corner of her eye, spotting her mother at the head of the march.

"Return to the ships." Visenya says, "I will not be long."

"Princess -"

"Go." Visenya stated, firmly, removing her stare with her dragon for only a moment. "I will only be a short while."

Lucinda held her stare, shifting as she felt those same baleful eyes gaze upon her. Bowing her head, "Princess."

Visenya watched her go, moving her eyes back to the dragon. She slowly inched forward, regarding Cannibal until finally her gloved palm connected with his rough scales once again. 

"hae ziry iā daor, uēpa valītsos, iksi naejot kipagon naejot vīlībāzma." Visenya murmurs, absentmindedly soothing his scales, "se issa naejot join īlva." (Like it or not, old boy, but we are to fly to battle. And she is to join us)

Cannibal grumbled beneath her palm, shaking his massive head. Visenya laughed a smile, breathing in the scent of smoke and blood that clung to him. 

She sighed, feeling that fire within her chest that burned with an infinity whenever she and Cannibal were together. A connection, a bond that clicked.

She finally turned to greet her mother, giving Cannibal a final pat before moving away to the safe distance that Rhaenyra and the others held themselves at.

Rhaenyra smiled as Visenya neared - a smile that held sadness within its lines, a certain knowledge weighing down on Rhaenyra's shoulders of what could await her daughter. 

"Be careful, sweet girl." Rhaenyra soothed a hand through tangled silver strands, already coming loose from its braid. "Swear to me you will be careful."

"I swear." Visenya promises. "I will not fall."

Rhaenyra did not reply, lips pursing and brows tightening - a fruitless effort to hide her anguish at watching her eldest child fly to war. She caressed a palm over Visenya's cheek, thumb moving to soothe the old scar, cupping Visenya's face and moving to place three kisses in succession to her head. 

Visenya leant into the touch - committing to memory the feel of her mother's comfort, for it could be a long while before she felt a kind touch again. She ignored the ache when her mother finally pulled away, shifting her attention to Jacaerys - where he stood with that same cross frown, anger still ablaze within his lilac gaze.

"Brother." Visenya stepped toward him, hesitating only a moment before she cupped his cheeks within her calloused palms. Jace was tense under her hold, and he glared with fury. "Be angry if you wish, but in my absence it is you who will shoulder the responsibility I leave behind. I am trusting you with it. Look after mother, and our brothers, that is all I ask."

"Of course I will." Jace glared, as if she was wrong to even think he would not.

Visenya smiled. "I have no doubt." She cupped the back of his neck, pulling him close until their foreheads connected, holding him there. "I love you, little brother."

She felt him relax, felt him loosen under her palm, felt his own hands come to clutch onto her own - the same he did as a child - and hold tightly. His own whispered words only audible to the air between them.

"I love you too."

Visenya smiled once again, fond and sad, before pulling away. She could see the sheen of tears within Jace's own eyes as she pulled away, the boy moving his gaze toward the sky to keep them from falling. 

The little body that barreled into her stomach a moment later, left her nearly winded. She sighed sadly, holding Luke close to her for a few short - far too short - moments. She gently pushed him back, wiping the tears that had started to leak down his cheeks. 

"Be strong, little lord." She smiled, "I will return."

Luke sniffed, nodding. She pulled him close once again, feeling his arms encircle around her waist, holding tight and refusing to let go. She planted a small kiss to his dark curls, soothing her fingers through the strands. 

Visenya moved her gaze to where Rhaena and Daemon stood. The young girl almost hurls herself into Visenya's arms. She grinned, holding Rhaena close - the young girl quiet but sweet, and Visenya would miss their reading sessions together, would miss Rhaena's dozens of questions about dragon's she would force Visenya to answer - her finger lightly fiddling with the new braid that had been meticulously done by Visenya hours before. 

Violet gazes connect as they pull back, father and daughter quiet as they regarded each other - mirrored stances and resolute stares, both with hands clasped over dagger handles, looking like exact copies of one another. It was a few silent minutes before Daemon's lips upticked with a smirk.

"Iksā iā mittys."  He repeated. (You are a fool)

Visenya's own lips pulled into a smirk, mischief and dangerous. "mirros emi isse quptenka" Her smirk pulled into a small grin, white teeth showing ever so slightly at Daemon's sharp laugh. (Something we have in common)

"iā mittys iēdrosa jorrāelagon naejot sagon ñōghe lo issi naejot sagon doru-borto." He returned, Visenya's brows rising high as he reached to unbuckle his sword belt, holding the scabbard out to her, the handle of Dark Sister glinting in the rays of sun. "ziry won nyke ñuha vīlībāzma, sir kessa ūndegon ao rȳ aōhon." He grinned at her. (a fool still needs to be armed if they are to be stupid. She won me my battle, now she will see you through yours.)

Visenya felt her hands shake, reaching to run her fingers along the handle, feeling the ridges that had long been worn into it. She gripped it, other hand reaching to hold the scabbard. It was lighter than she thought it would be, a perfectly balanced blade. The blade of her name-sake. A warriors blade.

"ao rigle nyke." She could hardly speak, entranced, eyes locked upon Dark Sister. (You honor me.)

Daemon smiled lightly, his hand reaching out as if to copy her mother's action of cupping her cheek. She saw him hesitate for a moment, their gazes connecting - could see the conflict within his gaze - it made her lips twitch with a smile, nodding ever so slightly, before she felt his calloused palm - a mirror of her own hands - soothe along the skin of her face. She tensed - for the tiniest moment - the touch so foreign but so familiar at the same time.

"Go on." Daemon whispered, thumb soothing the skin of her cheekbone before he pulled away. 

Visenya breathed deeply, looking one last time at her family gathered before her - here to see her off, to battle, to war, wherein she could never return from - she offered them one more sharp grin, turning away with a mass amount of pain and difficulty, clenching her jaw against the rising emotion that threatened to clog her throat. Her hands methodically buckled the sword around her waist, awkwardly walking with the new weight. She shared one last look with Lucinda, eyes hard, and soft as they regarded each other - a princess and her loyal lady - ready to ride off into war with one another.

Rhaenyra blinked back the tears in her eyes, watching Visenya mount Cannibal and fly off with one command - her chest aching with a fury watching her eldest leave, throat clogged with tears that threatened to run down her cheeks. She always knew Visenya would be a spitfire - her wild daughter, more worried about the safety of her brothers than herself - and now she had to go through a pain all mother's were mercy of.

Watching their children leave the nest for the first time.

She refused to entertain the thought that this child may never return...