CHAPTER 1.

❞𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃...❞

TWENTY-FOUR YEARS LATER.

With a welcomed amber glow, the sun starts to set, with fresh colours of orange, gold, and pink brushed against the sky like an artist's canvas. With a firey glow amidst violent purples and the promise of a celestial blanket of stars. The horizon contrasted signs of destiny and downfalls of the unknown.

The honeyed-haired woman sat mesmerized by the reflective greens of the landscape. The landscape was a mirage of divine hues congregated in the land of Westeros. Thick spreads of deciduous trees acted as an easel upon Kingslanding, and a city left sprawled upon a rigid landscape of stone.

A siege of solid walls surrounded the city in a protective embrace and passed its bounteous waters. Everything about Westeros was appealing to Celeste's eyes, it may have been beautiful, but there was a sudden concealed eerieness about it.

Her fist pressed gently against her cheek. Her eyes began to momentarily close, with an evident conclusion of exhaustion. She closed the book on her lap, consisting of the final chapters of Aegon's Conquest.

Her back rested against the pale bark of the weirdwood tree. She was located among the outskirts of the Red Keep, closest to the gardens. The deciduous tree was a prosperous sight, although a certain spot of it, often resembled a face carved within the tree. Celeste found comfort beneath the tree and away from her duties. She isolated herself that evening and spent the remaining of her time beneath the mystifying tree.

Its ablaze-coloured leaves acted as a canopy of shade during the day, and obscured her from sight during the arrival of night. The tenous flames of the lit torches laid sprawled shadows of the passing guards.

Her long honeyed hair, pleated tightly, with a delicate silk ribbon, neatly decorated the small of her back. She fastened her cloak tighter over her white tunic and quietly, her eyes surveyed the sky above.

A soft and mobile sigh escaped her nostrils, as a fair breeze crawled along her neck. A profound thought awoke her mind with irritation. Tomorrow she was being wed to Lord Tytos Lannister. And beyond the Red Keep's wall was a celebration of her engagement. The celebration raised the ambient soul of the realm to a broad shared smile.

Occasionally, she wondered whether they were too distracted to notice her absence. Her stomach twisted into a knot, while an uneasy feeling settled in her chest.

Celeste refused to admit that she was afraid of the man. Though she knew what he was capable of. He was charming to his staff, until someone tests his loyalty or questioned his succession. Rather than holding their tongues, he simply would take them.

She didn't hate Lord Tytos, though she found herself and Tytos to be separate sides of a coin.

Celeste began to envision her life with Lord Tytos Lannister. Would he treat her with the same amount of respect she offers to him? Often the man came by attracting many damsels around him, and maybe that was enough for her to perceive; that she wasn't 't going to be the only woman in his arms.

She fought back a weary yawn, the sound of clattering metal paved its way towards the weirdwood tree.

"Aōha absence emagon issare oddly noticed."

"Your absence has been oddly noticed." A familiar voice concluded.

Celeste recognized the melodious sound of his voice. Often the sound of his voice ceased that anxious fire that swelled in her gut. The first ally she made when she accompanied her brother; Laenor, across Westeros to prepare for her marriage.

Once the King of the Stepstones and the narrow seas, he resigned his position to his brother Viserys to reclaim a position in his court. Viserys had a rather timid approach to his brother years ago, banishing him by the rumours of him speaking ill of the King. The once valour prince of Westeros was most referred to as the Rogue Prince; Daemon Targaryen.

His grey doublet was left comfortably untied, and his black tunic hugged his lean figure. While his Dark-sister draped over the side of his hip, a sword he wielded since the age of twelve when he was knighted. Celeste wondered whether there was ever a moment he wasn't armed with it.

His soft, silver locks cascaded among the sharp and bitter breeze. His luxurious bangs were tied back out of his face, displaying his sharp looks.

"Nyke ȳdra daor enjoy being isse se presence hen olvie hen realm," Celeste admitted, coded in the old tongue of high Valaryon.

"I don't enjoy being in the presence of most of the realm." Celeste concluded.

"Skorkydoso sīr?" Daemon questioned, curiously.

"How so?"

"I'm afraid I won't please the painted picture the realm has painted upon my family," Celeste answered, choosing her words with care. Daemon caught the slight gleam of worry in her eyes. There was more to her worried tone than he anticipated.

"Time will tell, Celeste," he assured her.

"Did Tytos send you? Please, if he did, tell me the truth." the words spilled from her lips, anxiously. Like wildfire reaching the border of a forest.

"No, I've only ever spoken the truth. I see Lord Tytos for what he is... a cunt." Daemon's lips twitched into a sly grin.

Celeste's eyes widened and her jaw dropped to Daemon's response. If anything, that uneasy feeling began to worsen. An ominous silence fell, in midst of her train of thoughts, and a sigh escapes her lips. She feared he may have been right, after observing the harsh things he has done to his staff.

"Don't forget, that's the man who I'll be spending the rest of my days with," Celeste muttered. Her eyes lowered to the grass beneath her. Her mind couldn't comprehend such an offence to a woman, a rather offensive vulgar insult. She dusted the thin pieces of dirt off her brown, leather pants. His eyes surveyed her outfit and recognized she wasn't wearing the snow-coloured ballgown her maids squeezed her, thin, and frail form into.

Dresses never favoured her, she was left often jealous of the women who were praised by the attention given by others. Dark, yet dangerous, violet eyes rested on her disappointing form. Her eyes were shallow and glossy and dark. And yet violet, bags, clung from beneath her eyes.

The lighting was dim, and it wasn't enough for Daemon to determine the cause. He ignored the thought and recalled the reason he came searching for her.

"I brought something," he announced in an affectionate and refined voice.

Her shy gaze raised to Daemon, she unfolded her long legs and propped herself onto her feet. Celeste stood a respectful distance in front of the Prince, but not enough to invade his space. Daemon held his fist out and curled his hand upward. His slender fingers unfolded, allowing the white gold, silver-hued chain to drape over his fingers. A titanium pendant rested in the center, consisting of a dragon curled in the shape of a claw, while gently it clutched an aquamarine stone.

Her eyes studied the necklace with unwavering attention. Her mouth parted, but she was at a loss for words. She couldn't accept something so divine. She didn't want to disappoint him, she pushed the thought to the back of her mind, and allowed herself to accept such a generous gift. But to her, the thought was the most generous gift Celeste could accept.

"Consider it as a favour of reassurance...or as an early wedding gift," he added. His deprived gaze locked on hers like a magnet.

She refused to fret in the conclusion of what toacrifice, in order to achieve such a valuable object. She gently cradled it in her small hands and stood frozen in thought.

"I cannot imagine what path it has stalked to rest in my hands. It's beautiful," she murmured, impressed, and in awe. She felt her mood shift to an emotional, but a grateful one.

"Turn around," he ordered, calmly snatching the necklace from her palms.

In her haste to obey, she neatly folded her cloak and tossed it to the side. She gently gathered her hair into her palm and lifted it. His hands reached over her shoulders and pinned the clasp at the back of her neck. The cool metal of the pendant rested against the partly bare skin of her chest. She adjusted her tunic before smiling sweetly. She inhaled deeply, brushing off the early insult towards Lord Tytos.

She knew the meaning of the stone, it often represented everlasting happiness, hope, and youth. It was enough to change her mind; those things may prevail differently than she predicted.

Celeste acknowledged what he was capable of. Unintentionally, she would listen to the fresh gossip served by the maidens of Kingstanding. Her mind comprehended how he brought order and strengthen the laws of Kingslanding, before his rank as Captain was stripped from him. The streets of Kingslanding were no longer safe after Daemon turned his back and accepted banishment.

She admired the Golden-cloaks, for their valour approach to maintain order in Kingslanding. They were defenders of the city, and the enforcers of the law, sworn to only the Iron Throne. Occasionally, she wished she was born with lower status and male. But it was the opposite, her battlefield would forever be by Lord Tytos's side. Marrying him wouldn't increase his rank, but it earned the Velaryon's support. And trade routes Tytos owned.

A generous smile raised from the corner of her lips, "Promise me you'll write at least a letter, once a year?" she propositioned, hoping she would still have contact.

"Aye, I can arrange that. Perhaps you can come find me when everything is in order? Coryls, has exchanged a few words with Viserys, he's pondering whether or not acquiring you as the first female member of the council." Daemon informed her.

Her heart began to thaw at the thought of stripping someone's rank from the council. Celeste was incredulous to the thought her word was inconsequential among the court's ears. She kept silent, she continued to drown in the deep sea of her thoughts. Perhaps this was a mistake. Perhaps it was a trick to mould the reputation of the court's jester among Celeste.

"And not Laenor? I am unqualified, and I have no experience-" she began to fret until Daemon interrupted her.

"You'll understand that the court is so...dreadfully boring. Your brother wanted no part in the council. Which leaves it to you." he replied.

Her gaze snapped to the guard that passed by the two of them, forging a suspicious look down upon them. Her lips curled into a straight line and her heart tackled an anxious rhythm. Nonetheless, she was hesitant to jeopardize her reputation, by gossiping about her accompanying him in a rather interesting conversation. Maybe it was the irritable mood and thoughts she hid from him.

She pivoted her focus away from the guard and licked her chapped lips before speaking "Your right. Perhaps, we should affix ourselves among the crowd before someone suspects something?" Celeste suggested, earning a small, amused laugh from Daemon.

She acquired her book and rested her cloak over her arm, before accompanying Daemon back. Daemon's gaze watched his surroundings in fine detail, his hand ghosted his sword, while a chill crawled up his spine.

With a slow stride, he accompanied her through the twisted gardens. He stood a couple of feet behind her. Celeste's Egyptian-like eyes lowered, her lashes sweeping against her cheeks, while her steps lead her to the arched threshold of a doorway.

"I see you've retrieved my bride, Daemon. You've done well." a smooth voice complimented. His back was pressed against the harsh foundation of the walls. Tytos kept his arms crossed over his chest, while his soft, golden-fleece hair, covered his face partially. She knew well in her mind that Daemon wasn't sent to retreive her. Though she wasn't fond of Tytos referring to her as an animal at that moment.

A gleam of interest perked his attention, to what relation Daemon was to his beloved. A lover? A friend? An accomplice? Perhaps he wouldn't discover that fabricated conundrum, but certainly, he was determined. Tytos held an endless thread of pride, and he repudiate all associations and relations he shared with his to-be wife. He felt a small flame crawl through his veins. Tytos straightened his back and reclaimed his composure, while he patiently waited for a reply from Celeste or Daemon.

Momentarily, she neglected his presence but then halted. Her eyes remained glued to the cobblestone path beneath her. Celeste straightened her shoulders, and confidently she stared into Tytos's deep-blue eyes. She knew Daemon would tell the truth over Tytos. And she had to admit that hearing his voice irritated her.

He held out a gloved hand, motioning her to accompany his side. Daemon gave Tytos a nod and refused to abandon her side.

"Tytos, what are you doing here at this hour?" Celeste questioned Tytos, sweetly.

"I was going to ask you the same thing, but here you are. You cannot return to the dance looking like a man, Celeste." Tytos reminded Celeste. Insisting he wanted a single dance with his fiance that evening.

"Teedeous is it?" Daemon questions, curiously. Ignoring the fact he knew his title and name.

"Tytos. Rather, I will pronounce it for you, Tide-us-"

"Do I look like I give a damn?" Daemon laughed. Celeste's heart sunk to the depths of her stomach to the small fued Daemon started. This could have ended quietly, Celeste thought. And she began to sulk at the thought of it. Tytos's dark and reflective gaze taunted her during those few seconds of silence. He was rather curious as to why she didn't defend him.

"You may not," Tytos answered, while a harsh and derisive laugh trailed along his sentence.

Celeste could feel the atmosphere change to one that was sour. Tytos jaw clenched, tightly. His fingers curled into tight fists as if he was challenging the Rogue Prince. Daemon's hand hovered over his sword, while he tilted his head, and taunted Tytos with a vicious stare.

"Oh? So you fear a challenge? How about I take your balls for looking at her that way?" Daemon threatened. And in keen detail caught onto the harsh gaze Tytos offered Celeste.

"Daemon," Celeste said, showing a partly genuine surprise for his actions.

Celeste shook her head, and with a slow stride, she approached Tytos and placed a hand on his solemn cheek.

"I think I'll retire to my chamber, pour myself a glass of wine, and draw myself a bath. You should get some rest, Tytos. We have an exuberant day tomorrow, and perhaps I don't want to lay eyes on a man that is asleep at the end of the aisle." Celeste reminded Tytos, lovingly.

As much as her heart refused to marry Tytos, she played a convincing part in loving him, for the sake of her reputation. She blinked perplexed, in a misunderstanding of his silence, until he gave a brief nod in acknowledgement.

Daemon scoffed at the parallel in her sweet and laughable words. Tytos removed her hand from his cheek, abruptly. His eyes bearing down on her, he knew her words were twisted and unmeaningful. Daemon's malicious stare marked Tytos as a mere rival. He held no feelings for Celeste, besides an affectionate friendship.

And Celeste ceasing Daemon's defence left him sulking in ominous silence. He watched as she departed through the castle's massive doors, offering Daemon a sincere smile, as appreciation for defending her.

A heavy feeling rested within her chest. She felt foolish, and cowardly for not bellowing Tytos herself, and stopping her friend when his intentions were pure. Celeste began pondering whether she desired to pursue the wedding. And she wished her existence was no more.

******

Celeste sat quietly seated on a stool, while her hand gently brushed against the warmth of the water. Her nostrils flared in annoyance. She lowered her head and sniffled softly, the feeling began to consume her. Her throat tightened, as her vision clouded in response to her frustration. She had asked her given servants to leave her be for the night, so she could gather her thoughts.

She wiped her tears away and stood up. She exited the molten-stone-coloured bathroom. Her bare feet met with the cool floorboards of her bedroom. Celeste tightened her silk robe and returned to her nightstand, where a pitcher of wine and a couple of glasses sat.

Her room was on the smaller side, but she refused to complain. A massive bed sat in the middle of the room as a centrepiece, colour coded to the symbol of the Targaryen dynasty; red and black.

Soft curtains remained tied to the pillars, that held a canopy above the bed, proudly. Her slender fingers curled around the handle of the pitcher. She poured herself a glass, allowing its condiments to meet the cascaded falls of her thoughts.

Her soft lips met with the intoxicating taste of the lavishing wine. Her chest rise and soon fell, as she felt momentarily calm. Until her vision began to cloud, her eyes widened, and her heart skipped a beat. The top of her mouth began to numb, and her stomach began to twist, violently. She juddered, and her legs soon gave out. The glass of wine left her hand absent, while endless pieces of glass scattered among the floorboards. Her temple collided with the ground, and her mind began to race in the process.

Knowingly she feared death. She was left convinced her drink was poisoned and for that, she cried out. A frantic, loud, and thin wail exited her lungs. She scrambled to push wellbeing up from the cool floorboards. Celeste's nails dug into the floorboards, as she failed to hold herself up. Her head met the floorboards countless times.

The pace of her breaths became softer, and from a side angle, she watched as leather boots entered the room. The small thuds met her attention before she allowed the velvety, darkness to capture her in a bitter grasp.

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A/note: Aaaaah the first chapter is finally up! Thank you all so much for supporting this story, I've never had so much love for not too many of my stories. Writing this story makes me beyond happy! And I hope you guys enjoyed the long chapter. I apologize if it's far too long, let me know what an ideal chapter length you guys want and I might be able to arrange that. I absolutely love the show House of the Dragon!

Feel free to leave a vote or even a comment! I love hearing from you guys.

-Hayley.