King's Landing, Red Keep – 121 AC

Turning six namedays brought a mix of emotions for me. On one hand, I was ecstatic about the newfound freedoms and opportunities that came with growing older. Yet, with each passing year, I found myself increasingly constrained by the expectations and scrutiny of those around me. No longer could I easily slip away unnoticed to enact my darker schemes; every move I made was subject to greater scrutiny.

The look of surprise etched upon Larys's face in his final moments spoke volumes. He had underestimated me, just as so many others did. What he didn't realize until it was too late was that there was another warg in the Red Keep. Yes, I had reclaimed my warging abilities, even though, this time around, I had not a drop of Stark blood in my body. It was a gift from the Gods, which I will forever be grateful for. I have missed the deep connection I used to have with Ghost. While the connection between a dragon and its rider is a strong bond, the ability to share a mind and a soul with your bonded partner was on another level.

So, with my warging abilities back, I did not waste a second before honing them through clandestine training sessions with the castle's resident felines. With their help, I had become a silent observer, gathering information, and weaving my own intricate web of secrets. If someone would have once told me that I would end up becoming a quasi-Mistress of Whispers, I would have laughed on their faces. But desperate times call desperate measures. It was during this time that I discovered that the theories of Larys being a warg, though they were only theories in the history books from the North, were true.

Larys's demise was not merely a stroke of luck or happenstance. It was the culmination of careful planning and calculated manipulation. I had seen through his facade, witnessed the depths of his depravity as he wielded his influence over Queen Alicent to fulfill his disturbing feet fetish. The thought of such perversion disgusted me, and I knew that I could not stand idly by while he continued to prey upon others.

As expected from a man like Larys, he had already bonded with the rats of the keep. Not that it worried me, as rats could never dream of matching cats. Slowly, but steadily I sent my feline friends to hunt down Larys' little helpers and started diminishing his spy net. How he never realized that another warg was targeting him was surprising. You would expect him to be smarter, then again, he must have grown confident on himself by being one of the few people of First Men descendance on the South.

So, when the opportunity presented itself to orchestrate Larys's downfall and cast blame upon his supposed disability, I seized it without hesitation. It was a risk, to be sure, but one that I was willing to take in pursuit of justice. And as I watched the pieces fall into place, I felt a sense of satisfaction at the horrified look on his face when Larys saw the cat's eyes turned Velaryon-blue as it pushed him down the stairs to his death.

As I reflect on my actions, I cannot help but feel a twinge of remorse tugging at my conscience. What I have done may not sit well with the ideals of honor and chivalry, but in the game of thrones, such virtues often serve as little more than folly. There is a reason so many Starks had died south the Neck. But if I am to ensure the survival of Westeros in the face of the looming threat of the Others, I must be willing to go as far as needed... well, not as far as needed. There are always limits one should never cross and I will never allow myself to become someone like Joffrey Waters of Cersi Lannister.

Though, some choices are easier than others. Killing a rat like Larys? Easy! Now, the decision to thwart Robert Baratheon's birth… not so easy. What I did weighed heavily on me because it meant condemning an innocent soul to never be born. Royce, the only son Borros Baratheon would sire and the future Lord of the Storm's End, did nothing to me or my house. He bore no guilt for the sins of his future descendant, yet I knew that the consequences of Robert's rule would be dire for the realm. His recklessness and ambition would bring naught but chaos and suffering upon the land.

So, with a heavy heart, I procured a vial of poison from Volantis that my good-sister Talisa had taught me about. How I managed that, do not ask. You would be surprised about what a child can manage with warging abilities and House Velaryon's contacts. The poison was a deadly concoction that would render Borros Baratheon sterile, ensuring that the line of succession would be forever altered. Lord Borros did not even check his ale cup before drinking his alcohol, and the poison within it, in one go.

I did feel guilty because in this timeline Borros was my kin, and we had bonded in Blackhaven. But in the end, I knew that sacrifices must be made for the greater good. Hard choices demand hard actions. Now, if only I can find a way to do the same with House Lannister. Cersi, Jamie, Tywin, and Tyrion were the bane of Westeros. Even worse than House Baratheon, and Robert laughed when he was presented with my siblings' corpses and called them dragonspawns!

The horror tales I heard about the cruelty of Cersi… killing every bastard Robert ever sired! Even babes! The Rains of Castamere… when I started learning about the houses of Westeros I almost choke on my drink when I heard my maester mention House Reyne. I had gotten used to them being extinct so I did not even think about the fact that in the past, without Tywin Lannister, they were a prominent Western House.

Anyhow, now that I dealt with Larys and House Baratheon, and there is no way I can interfere with House Lannister, as they do not seem to leave Casterly Rock. I could finally turn my attention to the next phase of my mission to safeguard the realm. The Gods had visited me in dreams, revealing the dire need for more dragons to defeat the Night King. House Targaryen required the might of grown and seasoned dragons to face this ancient enemy. In my dream, the Gods showed me the whereabouts of Morning and Daenerys's three dragon eggs. These treasures would be vital in strengthening our forces. The gods assured me that they would guide me on when and to whom Daenerys's dragon eggs should be bestowed.

Despite the weight of responsibility and the paranoia of hiding three dragon eggs from my parents and siblings, my heart swelled with pride and relief as I witnessed the bond between Morning and Rhaena blossom before my eyes. The radiant joy on Rhaena's face filled me with hope and reassurance that our efforts were not in vain. Yet, as the time drew near for Daemon, Laena, Baela, and Rhaena to depart from King's Landing, a sense of regret tugged at my heart. Their presence had brought a fleeting sense of unity and strength to the Blacks, and their absence would be keenly felt. However, I knew that they had to leave before something else would happen.

Watching Aunt Laena give birth to poor Aegon was heartbreaking. It had shaken me to the core. The only reason why I was not begging my kepa to never marry me off, was the assurance from the Gods that they had blessed me with safe pregnancies and births. Otherwise, I would have stabbed any man that dared to think they could impregnate me and then fed them to Ghost.

Other than the fear I felt at seeing Aunt Laena bleed out, as I imagined this is what my first muña must have felt when she was giving birth to me. It had baffled me how callous my muñazma Viserys could be towards his own brother, kēpus Daemon. Yet, deep down, I suspected that muñazma's animosity stemmed from his own insecurities. Kēpus Daemon embodied everything muñazma was not – brave, intelligent, loyal, and handsome. In contrast, muñazma Viserys was a coward, easily swayed, selfish, and only his Valyrian features spared him from being deemed unattractive. Despite losing numerous children with mumuña Aemma, I had hoped muñazma would show more compassion towards kēpus Daemon.

However, just a few moons after Aegon's tragic stillbirth, muñazma Viserys practically ordered kēpus Daemon and his family to depart from King's Landing. While I found muñazma's actions despicable, I couldn't help but feel relieved. Kēpus Daemon detested the stifling confines of the Red Keep, and the opportunity to return to Bloodstone was a welcome escape for him. I felt a sense of happiness knowing that he would be safe from the toxic environment muñazma Viserys had attempted to impose upon him.

Putting muñazma Viserys's callousness aside, I redirected my attention to the next phase of my plan: bolstering the North. Though I was now a lady of the Crownlands and the Narrow Seas, my memories of the North remained cherished, despite the bitter taste left by Lady Stark's actions, my memories of the North remained fond. I believed in the potential greatness of the region, with its vast lands and strong culture. However, the North lacked both the manpower and the resources to fulfill its potential.

Yet, I saw an opportunity to change that. By strategically facilitating connections and alliances, I could pave the way for House Stark to prepare adequately for the looming threat of the Long Night. It was a daunting task, but I was determined to see it through. After all, the fate of Westeros depended on our collective efforts to unite and stand against the encroaching darkness.

And it all will start with a simple sea-green handkerchief. As I delicately wove the silver threads into the fabric, I couldn't help but marvel at the simplicity and elegance of the seahorse design taking shape beneath my fingertips. Unlike my sisters, Sansa, and Arya, I had never been groomed for the life of a lady. Those refined lessons in etiquette and needlework had always been reserved for them, leaving me to navigate the world through different means. Arya, in her rebellious spirit, had dismissed such teachings altogether, while Sansa embraced them with grace and skill beyond compare.

Embroidery, however, proved to be a skill I could readily adapt to. Perhaps it was the countless hours spent stitching wounds and mending torn garments during the chaos of the War of the Five Kings that had honed my dexterity. Yet, despite my proficiency, I knew better than comparing myself to Sansa. Her mastery of the craft was unmatched, her stitches precise and her eye for detail impeccable. She had a gift from the Gods that few women have, and I felt no shame in admitting that.

Once the handkerchief was finished, I wasted no time putting my plan into action. I knew that my kekepa was in a meeting with his commerce advisor. Bursting into the room with all the exuberance of a child, I eagerly presented the handkerchief to my kekepa, Corlys Velaryon. "Ah, Lucerys, my dear," Corlys greeted warmly, his eyes lighting up at my entrance. "What have you brought for me today?"

Beaming with excitement, I eagerly handed him the handkerchief, my heart fluttering with anticipation. "I made this for you, kekepa!" I exclaimed, watching his reaction anxiously.

Corlys' gentle fingers traced the intricate design of the silver seahorse on the sea-green fabric, his expression softening with genuine appreciation. "Lucerys, this is exquisite," he praised, his voice filled with pride. "You have quite the talent for embroidery."

I couldn't help but blush at his words, a rush of warmth flooding through me. "Thank you, kekepa," I replied, feeling a swell of pride at his approval.

With a tender smile, Corlys pulled me onto his lap, enveloping me in his comforting embrace. "Join me for the meeting, my dear," he invited, his tone affectionate. "As the future Lady of the Tides, your insights are always welcome."

Settling against him, I listened intently as Corlys and his commerce advisor delved into the intricacies of trade and commerce. I felt a sense of gratitude wash over me, knowing that I was valued and respected in the Velaryon household, in a way not even Robb had managed to make me feel in the Stark household. As the meeting progressed, I found my opportunity when the topic turned to exploring new markets.

"Grandfather," I interjected eagerly, drawing the attention of kekepa and his advisor. "What about the North?" Confusion flickered across their faces, prompting me to elaborate on my suggestion. "The North may not have vast fields for farming, but they use glass houses," I explained, my voice tinged with innocence. "I used to think they were made of dragon fire, like dragonglass. However, when I had asked great-granduncle Vaegon in my letter to the Citadel, great-granduncle Vaegon informed me that glass was made from sand. "

A spark of understanding lit up Corlys' eyes as he processed my words. "Sand, you say?" he mused, nodding thoughtfully. "And the North has the sturdiest metal, aside from Valyrian steel."

Excitement bubbled within me as I elaborated further on my idea. "Exactly, kekepa!" I exclaimed, my enthusiasm growing. "We could establish trade agreements between the North, Driftmark, the Stepstones, and Essos. House Manderly and House Stark would be key allies in such endeavors."

Corlys regarded me with a mixture of pride and admiration, his eyes reflecting his appreciation for my insight. "Lucerys, my dear, you never cease to amaze me," he said warmly, his voice laced with affection. "Your creativity and ingenuity are truly remarkable."

I beamed at his words, feeling a swell of pride at his praise. His commerce advisor chuckled, chiming in with a teasing remark. "Looks like she gets her smarts from you, Lord Velaryon, but the looks from your lady wife."

Corlys chuckled along with him, but his gaze remained fixed on me, filled with paternal affection. "Thank you, my little pearl," he said, his voice tender. "Your insight will undoubtedly lead to great success. What would you like to do with your commission? After all, such a wonderful idea deserves to be rewarded."

Without hesitation, I made my request. "I want to use it to open a learning center in Driftmark," I declared, my eyes alight with determination. "So many ladies send me letters, and I'm tired of reading and answering them all alone. If my maids could read and write, they could help me, and the work would be easier. Plus, when I read to the servants at High Tide, they enjoy it, but they might enjoy the stories even more if they could read them themselves."

Corlys gazed at me with a mixture of pride and affection. Leaning forward, he pressed a gentle kiss to my cheeks, his gesture filled with warmth and adoration. "Of course, my dear," he replied, his voice soft. "Consider it done. Your compassion and foresight never cease to amaze me. I'll tell you something, I will even donate the same amount to your muña so she can start something similar here in King's Landing."

"Thank you kekepa!"