VALAENA DIDN'T REMEMBER her mother very well. She hated to admit, even to herself, that the memory of the woman with dark curls and warm eyes faded from her memory a little bit every day. Even her soft lullabies were fading from her ears, Valaena struggling to remember the melody as she sang herself to sleep every night just like her mother used to.

The words became less clear every day, with only one verse left in her memory.

Beneath the watchful eye of gods.

She sang under her breath in an attempt not to wake the sleeping ladies around her, but it was important for her not to lose another piece of her mother.

Where ice and fire meet in nods.

She paused as she struggled to remember the next verse, panic washing over her small features before it came to her.

Where banners fly with pride and unfurled.

She felt the tiredness wash over her as a yawn escaped her lips, reminding her how late it was but she had to finish the verse.

And kingdoms rise.

Her eyes drooped as another yawn escaped her lips.

Then face the world.

The words were barely but a whisper as she found darkness before she could utter another thought.

When she awoke in the morning, she was filled with the dread that she had forgotten something more while she lay asleep. Her eyes squinted as she lifted her arm to block the sunlight shining directly on her bed, if one could even call it that. The makeshift bed was nothing but wood and a small blanket to keep her warm at night.

Valaena could hardly complain. She was luckier than most orphans in a land full of cruelty and misfortune. Her mother had left her in good hands before her passing, ensuring Valaena would be well taken care of.

Even with the earliness of the morning, Valaena could already hear the other woman at work as the giggles and moans filled the place she called home. Despite only being a mere seven years old, Valaena was all too familiar with the concept of pleasure. It was to be expected, really, when the girl was raised in a whorehouse by its sole occupants.

It was preposterous when one really thought about it, especially when the women were all too protective of the young girl to even suggest the idea of raising Valaena to join in their profession when she grew old enough. But they had promised their close friend and confident who had worked alongside them that they would care for the girl as their own when her mother passed, and they had kept that promise to that very day.

Her mother had been a prized whore at their establishment, both by their guests and the whores themselves. She gave everything and kept nothing, making sure the women of the establishment were protected. Valaena could remember the somberness of the women when her mother had passed, and their comments that she reminded them so much of her mother with her dark curls.

The resemblance ended there, something Valaena would curse the gods for every day. Her features were nothing similar to her mother, who heeded from a small town in the far north and wore all the stark features of a northern woman. Valaena assumed she got her features and eyes with purple flecks in them from her father, whomever he was. She had never met the man, and from what few snort snippets her mother would give her, she never would.

As Valaena rose from her makeshift bed, her mind drifted back to her mother's face, the fleeting image buried beneath layers of time and absence. She longed for the warmth of her embrace, the familiar softness of her voice, but all had were memories that threatened to slip through her fingers like sand.

She needed something to distract her from the depressing thoughts, her feet hitting the cool ground as she reached for the shoes beside her bed. The rough material slipped on easily, familiar with running through the narrow streets of Kings Landing. A quick glance around ensured that the women were hard at work as she snuck towards the back door, the only door she had ever used to enter and exit the brothel.

"And where do you think you're going?" the girl paused at the warning tone, turning sheepishly to the blonde-haired woman who leaned against the door frame with narrowed eyes and a familiar disappointed look.

"I just wanted some fresh air," Valaena muttered sheepishly with her hands behind her back, knowing she had been caught. It was the one rule her mother's best friend had given Valaena when taking her under her wing, not to leave the establishment without her.

"You know the rules," Meera reminded with that stern look that put any mother to shame at the mere effectiveness of it.

"I was only going to be a few minutes," Valaena tried to defend hopelessly as she stared at the ground. "I swear."

A raised eyebrow was all she got to the blatant lie she just told.

"Well, I suppose you better grab me some wormwood while you're going out," Valaena's eyes snapped up in shock as Meera dug through her coin purse for a few moments before holding them out for her to take.

"Thank you," Valaena squealed, ignoring the money being held out to her as she launched herself into Meera's arm in a tight hug. She couldn't remember the last time Meera had let her leave the brothel.

Meera released a small laugh as she pushed the small girl away with a soft, "Now, now."

"I expect you to be back in time for lunch," Meera started as she pushed the coins into her small hands, but Valaena didn't even mind the lecturing that her guardian had started to give her. "And no mischief, you hear me? Lord already knows you give me enough grief running around here causing chaos."

"I promise," Valaena nodded her head feverishly, afraid one wrong move would change Meera's mind.

She barely had time to mutter a quick goodbye as she scurried out the back door, a wide smile spreading onto her face at the smell of fresh air and the kisses of sunlight on her tan skin. Although it was early in the morning, the sun barely seeping over the top of the horizon, Flea Bottom was already abuzz with crowds as they started their daily routines.

Valaena slipped through the crowd, her small statue giving her leeway as she made her way through the streets towards the familiar smell of food and shouts of entertainment. Drunkards were leaving from their late nights out as working folk were preparing for the long day ahead of them. It was the perfect time for merchants to set up shop, hoping to catch one passerby to sell their goods to.

She found the wormwood easily, the herb quite easy to find in the likes of flea bottom as the demand for moon tea was quite popular. Valaena slipped it into her pockets as she allowed her feet to carry her deeper into the bustling market. Her eyes scanned over the stalls, but nothing seemed to catch her eye as she released a tired sigh when realizing perhaps she would have to return home empty-handed that day.

That's when a croaked voice cursing out a string of harsh words caught her attention, her eyes flashing to the familiar stall filled with sweets. Arne Buford was a irritable man with a hatred for children, ironic considering his trade consisted mostly in selling sweets. Valaena had run into him more than she would have liked, the wretched old man giving her a stern lecture and a smack to the back of her head as he sent her away with a headache and bruised ego.

It was no surprise that Valaena now found him yelling at a small group of children, each one no older than her own age but visibly more malnourished as they eyed the sweets with wide, teary eyes. Her frown deepened as she watched him shoo them away quite harshly, no empathy found behind his cold, dead eyes.

"Prick," Valaena muttered as she watched Buford return to his stall, shifting through his inventory as she narrowed her eyes at his turned back. The anger bubbled inside her as she found herself losing any sensibility, acting before she could consider the consequences.

She made it about a dozen stalls down when Arne realized what she had done.

"Hey! Thief!" was all she needed to hear as she spit out the lolly in her mouth and began running away.

She couldn't help the obnoxious giggle that escaped her lips as she weaved through the crowded streets of Flea Bottom, glancing over her shoulder in triumph as she realized how far behind the old man was. He was struggling to push through the crowd, the profanities and insults simply earning him glares from those around him as he shoved his way down the street.

In her distraction, Valaena collided with a firm body as several of the sweets in her hands tumbled to the ground at the unexpected impact. She gripped the few sweets she had left tightly to her chest as she twisted her head up to find an unfamiliar, hooded man staring down at her as if surprised by her presence. It took a few moments for Valaena to realize he was staring intensely into her eyes, casting her own eyes to the ground quickly as she became uncomfortable by his stare.

The man glanced from the stolen candies in her hands before his eyes flickered down the alley, where the old man was surely catching up to the young thief. Valaena felt her cheeks redden when she glanced back up at the man to find his focus back on her as his lips quirked slightly upwards in a hidden smile.

"Careful, now," he warned as he stepped to the side, giving her the perfect opportunity to escape.

Valaena took a second to narrow her eyes at the man, suspicious of his kind gesture as she took a hesitant step forward. When it became clear he wasn't going to stop her, she didn't waste another moment as she allowed her feet to carry her away from the old man chasing her and the mysterious stranger. Taking a sharp left, she ducked her head under the garments hanging out to dry as she followed the familiar shortcut through the alleyways of Flea Bottom.

It wasn't long until she came upon the familiar street of the brothel, her nose scrunching up at the horrid smell that filled the air. Valaena ignored the beggars and thugs that roamed the street as she reached the back door of her final destination, throwing one more wary glance over her shoulder before slipping inside. Her shoulders sagged as she allowed herself to relax, knowing she had lost the old man and gotten away with stealing some tasteful sweets.

She threw one of the sweets into her mouth, enjoying the sweetness that graced her senses as she slipped off her cloak. Valaena ignored the moans and cries from the floor above as she plopped down on her bed, releasing an exhausted sigh as she threw the sweets onto the end of the bed for later.

Before she knew it, she had nodded off and awoke to Meera standing over her with a panicked look on her face.

"Come," Meera didn't give Valaena any time to protest as she grabbed the girl tightly, dragging her off the bed and towards the door.

"What's going on?" Valaena questioned, pausing as a yawn escaped lips while Meera pulled a cloak tightly over the young girl's shoulders.

"We don't have time," Meera rushed out as she pulled open the back door, stopping as Valaena ran into her back.

"Prince Daemon," Meera breathed out, pushing Valaena further behind her to hide her from the strange arrival of the man. Valeana furrowed her eyebrows in confusion at Meera's panicked voice, seeing nothing but the back of her guardian as she blocked her view to the outside street and whoever blocked their path.

"Meera, just the woman I wanted to see," the man, Daemon, held a dangerous underline in his teasing tone, one that almost sent shivers down Valaena's back.

"We're not taking any visitors at the moment," Meera straightened her back to portray the false confidence she didn't have. "You'll have to come back another time."

"Oh please, I haven't been interested in your establishment since Thalia stopped taking my calls," Valeana felt her heart pound at the mention of her mother's name, leaning forward to try and peek around Meera to see the man only to be pushed back once again. "She never quite told me why."

"If it's answers your looking for, I'm afraid your shit out of luck," Meera retorted with a tight voice. "Thalia passed away several years ago. You'll get nothing from us here."

"Hmm, pity," Daemon hummed, a brief moment of silence as Valaena thought perhaps the man had left before he spoke again. "It wouldn't have anything to do with that child you keep around here, would it?"

"I've no idea what you're talking about," Meera snapped back, her voice filled with rage but Valaena could sense the fear behind her words. "There are no children here."

"Don't lie to me," the threat was clear in Daemon's words as Meera's body tensed. "Move aside before I make you."

There was a moment of tense silence, no one moving as Valaena reached up to cling to Meera's skirts with her small, chubby hands. Slowly, she leaned sideways until her eyes peeked around the skirts of Meera's dress to catch the hooded stranger standing at the doorway with his hand wrapped around the hilt of the knife at his waist.

Valaena's eyes widened as she recognized the hooded stranger from earlier that morning, towering over Meera like a giant with his hood pulled down to reveal his snow-white hair that shimmered in the sunlight. His gaze snapped down to meet her own, his own purple eyes piercing through her very being as she couldn't help the audible gasp that left her lips. Meera put a protective arm out in front of Valaena, but it was too late as his focus was now solely on her.

His gaze softened as he stared upon the young girl, taking in the appearance of her tangled dark curls and chocolate-doe eyes with flecks of purple in them. A small smirk appeared on his face as he released his hold on the hilt of his knife.

"Hello again," Daemon's voice was soft and gentle, nothing like when he spoke to Meera only moments ago.

Valaena didn't respond, only glancing up at Meera to catch her bottom lip trembling slightly.

"You look like your mother," Valaena's head snapped back to Daemon, who was still staring directly at her and making her feel like a mouse in a trap. "How old are you?"

Valeana remained silent, her grip tightening around Meera's skirts as she felt her stomach twist.

"What does it concern you?" Meera stepped into her rescue, as she stepped in front of Valaena protectively once again. "If you have nothing else-"

"Is she mine?" his words made Valaena freeze as she felt the world turn on its head at the implication of a father, a concept that had always felt so foreign and unattainable. She didn't have a father, only a dead mother and the woman at the brothel who raised her.

"Don't be ridiculous, Daemon," Meera scoffed at the question like it was the silliest thing in the world as Valaena tried peeking out again, successfully catching another glimpse of the white-haired man with striking eyes.

Ridiculous, Valaena repeated Meera's words, but she knew the truth deep down. Where else would she have gotten the flecks of purple in her eyes. Why else would the powerful man before them be asking about a girl such as herself, a bastard born to a common whore at a brothel. She was worth nothing to anybody, and yet she seemed to be worth something to him.

"I won't ask again," Daemon's tone dropped, finished with playing games as he whipped out his knife faster than Valaena could blink and held it up to Meer's throat. "Is. She. Mine?"

A pause.

"Yes," Meera breathed out, prompting Daemon to remove the knife from her throat.

Valaena's breath caught in her throat at the confession. She had never asked about her father, never cared enough to know the man who got her mother pregnant, but now she wished she had known more about the menacing man who stood before the woman who raised her as he threatened her with sharp knives.

"Move," Daemon ordered, watching as Meera hesitated from removing herself from her protective position in front of Valaena.

"She's just a bastard," Meera argued fruitlessly, knowing what life Valaena would lead as any daughter of a Targaryen.

"She's my first-born child," Daemon corrected as he tilted his head to the side, his final warning for her to step aside before he escalated things.

Meera reluctantly stepped away, leaving Valaena feeling vulnerable as Daemon set his attention back on her. Daemon took a step forward, pausing when Valaena shuffled backward in response. She didn't trust the man standing before her, father or not.

Daemon followed her gaze to the knife still in his hand, prompting him to fasten it back to his waist in an attempt to ease her worries. He knelt down to reach the same height level as her but remained the same distance away.

"What's your name, child?" Daemon asked, receiving no response as Valaena glanced over at Meera. The woman glanced between the two before giving Valaena a small, reassuring nod that it was alright.

"Valaena," she answered unsurely as she turned her attention back to Daemon, unsure how to feel about her supposed father.

"Of course," the man chuckled as he shook his head at something only he seemed to understand before glancing back at the young girl standing before him. "Do you know who I am?"

"You're my father, I suppose," Valaena answered as she still struggled to wrap her mind around the idea of a father.

"That I am," Daemon almost seemed to beam at the words, ignoring the weary look he gained from her. "Tell me, Valaena, how would you like to be a Targaryen?"

Valeana paused, eyebrows furrowed together as she stared back at Daemon.

"What's a Targaryen?" Valaena asked, unfamiliar with the term he had just uttered her way. "Is that some kind of jester?"

Valaena had never seen someone mentally face palm quite as hard as Daemon Targaryen did that day.