On a stormy night

'Hurry!' A voice carries through the corridors, swishing robes all that are heard in the silence. The girl that holds her hand is silent, wide purple eyes taking everything in as she tries to hold onto her mother's robe. Two women with silver hair march in the corridor, the light mirrored on the crown of the first woman and in the second's lady case, tiara.

The other, smaller girl, almost still an infant, sits on her hip, as Lady Rhea Velaryon follows her queen with hasty steps.

Queen Rhaella, highly pregnant takes Viserys in her arms, eyes on the lookout for any kind of enemy.

'Maella, take her.' Lady Rhea asks, as her oldest daughter stumbles behind her. Her maid takes Vysenera in her arms, the little girl panting from trying to keep up with her mother.

The Lady Rhea Velaryon, bound to the House Targaryen through her mother Rhaenyra Targaryen, has been the queen's confidante and most important lady of her attendance since she was fourteen. Though much younger than the queen, they have always been able to get along well.

She has no one to go too. She knows her remaining family will not help her, nor the queen. They are too frightened for Robert Baratheon and now that Prince Rhaegar is dead, they have nowhere to go to.

Her husband, Seven Gods rest his soul, is long dead, gone right after Manaerys' birth. Lady Rhea knows her daughters only have her, and if it goes as the rebelling forces planned, Rhea is all the queen has left as well.

They are soon on a ship towards Dragonstone but Rhea cannot stop but worry about the fact that the queen looks sickly and pale. She is due to give birth soon, and Rhea hopes for an easy birth, but she fears it will not be.

They have barely arrived at Dragonstone before the queen starts to have contractions.

It is a long night, that mostly passes in a blur as the Lady Rhea tries to get the queen through childbirth. A storm is raging outside, and Vysenera holds onto her mother's robes, as Maella tries to calm Viserys and little Manaerys.

The crying of a baby finally cuts through the storm as Rhea gives a tired smile to her queen, putting the princess in her arms. 'It is a girl.'

'A girl?' Four year old Vysenera asks, as Rhea smiles. 'Say hello to your niece.' She helps Vysenera and Viserys up on the bed, Manaerys looking from a safe distance in her arms.

'Her name...it is Daenerys Stormborn. Viserys is the rightful heir to the throne now.' The queen whispers. 'Rhea?' She murmurs, as Daenerys lies asleep in her arms. 'Look after them for me.'

The Lady of House Velaryon blinks in shock as the queen pushes her crown on the bed and motions for Rhea to take it. 'Look after them for me...'

Daenerys starts to cry and Rhea can only look on in shock as the queen closes her eyes, never to open them again. A silent tear trails down her cheek. Maella bows her head, as do the others in the room, a muffled sob leaving Rhea's mouth.

There are almost no more loyalists, but enough to help them. The most important thing now, is to get the crownprince, the princess and her own children, direct in line for the throne after the Targaryens, to safety.

Rhea packs light, as does Maella. Some of the loyalists have their things gathered, as the Lady Velaryon, tiaras and jewellery long forgotten, binds her youngest daughter on her back and gathers the little princess in her arms.

Maella does the same with Vysenera, fallen asleep from exhaustion and gathers prince Viserys in her arms.

They leave in the storm, wind still howling, and when the assassins finally arrive, they only find the dead queen and a tiara with the sigil of House Velaryon on it, the person it belongs too long gone across the Narrow Sea.