one . . .  DOHAERĀS

     Cressida's job placed a lot of responsibility upon her shoulders. Mostly because of Princess Rhaenyra, who insisted on doing everything her own way. Causing her companion to follow her in her mischief, even if it was from afar.

     She has been serving as Rhaenyra's companion for years now. So really, Cressida should have predicted the Princess would manage to fly off on Syrax instead of just visiting him as they had agreed. They had places to be and no time for adventures. And the Lady grew more anxious as the sun lowered on the horizon.

     Peeking out from inside the carriage, Cressida huffed in annoyance as she sat back down. Rhaenyra and her dragon were nowhere to be seen, and now they would barely make it on time for the Small Council.

     "Perhaps the short trip to visit Syrax wasn't a good idea," Alicent mused from across her. A small smile played in her lips as her eyes didn't stray from the sky.

     "No," Cressida answered, sighing exasperatedly. Looking down at her lap, a letter from her Aunt Jocelyn taunted her with a gold wax sealing it shut. The thought of her once-beloved aunt sent a current of betrayal down her limbs. Pursing her lips, Cressida stuffed the letter beneath her. "Listening to Rhaenyra is never a good idea. Much less when Aelyx is involved."

     At that Alicent let out a soft laugh, and Cressida looked at the Lady Hightower once again as her laugh faded. Alicent wasn't looking back at her, but at the spot where the letter had been hidden. Picking at her fingers raw in the way Cressida hated, Alicent got a glum look in her eyes, before they darted up to the Baratheon.

     "Any word from your father?" Alicent asked. "I know you dislike being blinded from the troubles in the Stormlands, especially with the recent disagreements with House Swann."

     Cressida paused to look at her friend, dark violet eyes piercing into her. The empty abyss of her gaze shoned in pity. Alicent was always afraid to speak as she wished, if she were to speak at all. Cressida knew what Alicent really wanted to know. For herself, or for House hightower, the Baratheon didn't know. But Cressida hoped Alicent would find her voice under everyone who tried to silence her.

     "The letter is from my Aunt Jocelyn," Cressida reached for Alicent's hands, stopping her from harming herself further. Her eyes soften at the girl, something odd to see from the Baratheon. "And I know you don't care about the unrest of the Swann's. But I do not know of my father's thoughts on the Hand's proposal."

     Alicent seemed to lighten at that, as if a burden was lifted from her shoulders. Cressida retracted her hands, looking down at her red gown. The prospect of the fabric changing to green made her chest tighten. In anger, disgust, helplessness. Whose house she joined in marriage was a decision beyond her. There were many factors to take into account, the most important being what benefits did marrying the Hand of the King bring to House Baratheon.

     "In his last letter," the Lady Baratheon started, voice level and expression still. Much more herself than the brief glimpse of vulnerability. "My father concluded the matter to be better discussed in person. So I suspect he has sent word ahead to have a hearing with your Lord father."

     Nodding, Alicent seemed much more relaxed after clearing the air. Cressida doubted the girl felt comfortable with having her as a step-mother, but a complaint against Otto Hightower's wishes would never be heard from his daughter.

     "Well, I do think it's a profitable match," Alicent said, straightening in her seat. Profitable. Yes, but not in the favor of House Baratheon. Or her own. "Definitely better than what Bennard Stark might have offered in the North."

     Before Cressida could question the truth in that statement, the pungent smell of dragon stung at her nostril. Sharp and burning, one can always count on the warning of smelling a dragon before anything else. Indeed, Syrax and Roxxon could be heard in the distance not a second later.

     Abandoning the conversation with a smile growing on her face, Alicent headed towards the exit of the carriage. Remembering the Princess, Cressida headed after her. Pushing Otto Hightower and her father away from her thoughts, the Small Council had a place to leak in the front of her mind.

     Standing on the carriage's door, Cressida watched as Syrax landed on the Dragon Pit. Rhaenyra smiled in delight from atop her dragon. The dragon keepers, with their circled the beast to lure it into the pit. Syrax growled in defense, no doubt feeling protective of her rider. Bastons raised in alert, the keeper in command took the lead.

     "Dohaerās, Syrax!" the dragon keeper ordered. The dragon rumbled at being ordered to obey. She wondered if dragons took parts of their personality from their riders. Or if they felt the same discontent she felt when reins were placed upon them.

     Cressida could see Rhaenyra undoing her mount on Syrax. To her right, Ser Harrold Westerling of the Kingsguard stood stiffly on his horse. His duty was to protect the Princess, if she was on her dragon or not her well being laid on him. As the completion of her duties laid on Cressida.

     "Umbās," another keeper said. "Rȳbās!"

     Ser Harrold let out a visible sigh of relief when Rhaenyra dismounted Syrax. The princess stroked the dragon's side in goodbye, to which the yellow beast purred in content. A screech from the sky drew their attention upward. Roxxon, with his burgundy wings, circled the dragon pit. The silver hair of Aelyx could be seen atop the dragon as they got further away. Cressida guessed neither rider or dragon wanted to rest.

     "Welcome back, Princess. I trust your ride was pleasant." Ser Harrold greeted Rhaenyra as she walked away from Syrax.

"Try not to look too relieved, Ser." Rhaenyra replied, grinning ear to ear.

     "I am relieved." Ser Harrold delivered flatly. "Every time that golden beast brings you back spoiled, it saves my head from a spike."

     The Princess laughed, reaching the carriage when Cressida and Alicent waited for her.

     "A shame it doesn't save mine when the Princess finds herself late to her duties," Cressida said tightly, her head tilted to the side and a single eyebrow raised. The Lady Hightower laughed at her reproach.

     Rhaenyra smiled guiltfully at her, but her eyes didn't seem so regretful. "Aelyx does send his apologies for making me late."

     Rolling her eyes, Cressida could all but hear the young Prince in her ear. It is said that the Old King claimed Aelyx Qoheros to be an antithesis of what his mother had been. Level-headed, righteous, and apologetic; Regardless of being legitimized at the age of seven, and his mother bringing shame to House Targaryen, the youngest of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alyssane's grandsires had most definitely been their favorite. There was no argument to rival their opinion, Aelyx was impossible to hate.

     "Syrax is growing quickly," Alicent observed as the dragon was led underground. Cressida signaled the coachman to make their leave. "She'll soon be as large as Caraxes, hopefully she'll reach Roxxon's size."

     Rhaenyra looked up at Alicent, eyes darting towards Cressida. "That's almost large enough to saddle two. Want to try flying for the first time?"

     "I believe I'm quite content as a spectator, thank you." The Lady Hightower nodded with a smile, her hands folded behind her back.

     "What about you, Cressida?" The Princess asked. her long, silver hair moving to the side as she moved cracked her neck to look at her fully with Alicent in between them.

     The girl in question kept her eyes on Syrax to avoid looking at Rhaenyra. Her face was blank of emotions, but her heart squeezed painfully at being reminded of fonder times. But time like those would have to remain memories; the glimpse of freedom, desire, understanding, love. Or what she thought love to be.

     Looking back down at Rhaenyra, Cressida kept her heartbreak to herself. "I think Alicent would be in great need of company," she replied. Turning on her heel and reentering the carriage, the Lady wished for the echoes of Him to leave her.

     But they never did. No matter how many moons pass, or how busy she forced herself to be. Nothing helped her escape that year of clandestine meetings and mercurial highs. Nothing helped her escape her sin. And perhaps that was the punishment the God's sent for her.

♰

The sound of hurried footsteps carried along the buzzing hallways of the Red Keep. People passed them in the same haste, the never ending tasks leaving everyone with something to do. The tapestries, representing the customs and traditions of Old Valyria covered the walls. And burning fires led their way through the halls.

Cressida walked behind Rhaenyra, her fingers expertly braiding the Princess's hair. There had been no time for a bath, and the smell of dragon stenched off of all of them. Alicent hurried alongside them, also assisting Rhaenyra with the hem of her golden dress. Now their delay to the council chambers was certain, given that the Princess had decided to stop at the Queen's chambers.

At first, the Lady Baratheon protested against it. But her stand didn't hold for long, as the worry of Rhaenyra for her mother was evident. Cressida couldn't stop her from seeing Queen Aemma, childbirth was a double edged sword. A woman's blessing or personal doom.

"Ah...Rhaenyra," the Queen said, greeting her daughter with a smile as they entered her chamber. Cressida stayed behind next to Alicent, letting Rhaenyra near her mother.

Although pained, Queen Aemma still shone with beauty. Her silver hair fell over her shoulders gracefully. The violet of her eyes seemed light with the sight of her only daughter. "You know I don't like you to go flying while I'm in this condition."

"You don't like me to go flying while you're in any condition," Rhaenyra replied.

Cressida pursed her lips to stop a sad smile from growing on her face. The relationship between the Queen and the Princess was something she envied. She only had her own mother for all of four years. The memories of Eleana Celtigar were all but gone from her memory. But she remembered her smelling like the sea, and whispering her secrets in High Valyrian. Despite not being fluent in the language back then, she had picked up enough to giggle alongside her mother.

"Your Grace." Alicent bowed slightly, her voice stopping Cressida from going down her rabbithole of fading memories. The Lady Baratheon dipped her chin to Queen Aemma, mimicking the words of her friend beside her

The Queen smiled at both girls, "Good morrow Alicent, Cressida."

Aemma's gaze lingered on the Baratheon, something that Cressida didn't miss. They had an understanding, and she had places to be. Even if Rhaenyra was unaware, her service to her went beyond getting her ready and aiding her mischief.

"If you'll excuse me," Cressida bowed, picking up her dress to make her leave. The Queen looked at her with thankfulness, although it wasn't needed. "Your Grace, Princess; There are matters that need my attention for the tourney."

"Do you wish me to accompany you?" Alicent asked, with good intentions of making the preparations easier. Perhaps taking note of Cressida's constantly busy day, or the burden of her family arriving in King's Landing in days time.

Cressida shook her head, mustering a tight lip smile. "No, I'm afraid my tasks are rather dull today." Dark violet eyes trailed over to where the Princess sat next to her mother. "Just ensure Rhaenyra gets to council chambers."

With a nod from the Hightower and one last vow to the Queen and her daughter, Cressida made her leave. Hurrying to her chambers, the Lady walked with purpose. To uphold her promise to the Queen, and to protect Rhaenyra from the qualms of men.

♰

The secret passages of the Red Keep ran behind the walls and beneath the floors. Selected few knew of them, even less could travel through it and not get lost in the process. As Cressida made her way towards the council chambers, her small candle led her through the rocky structure. Her appearance was hidden under a dark cloak, not risking getting discovered up to chance. Reaching into her pocket, the old piece of parchment brought comfort to her. After years of venturing into them on a regular basis, she still didn't feel confident enough to go in without her map.

Coming up the stairs out of the passages, Cressida settled her candle on the floor before pushing the hidden door open. The slate that disguised as a wall hid behind one of the many tapestries, carefully placed out of sight of the council members. Sliding out of the passage, Cressida crawled closer to where the meeting was being held. Hiding her presence behind the screen on the left side of the room.

Tuning into the discussion of the lords, perhaps being late had been a blessing after all. No important talk took her attention until Lord Corlys Velaryon of Driftmark, her cousin's husband, addressed the table.

"My lords," he said. Through the holes of the screen, Cressida could barely make out Lord Corlys's troubled expression. "The growing alliance among the Free Cities has taken to styling itself the Triarchy."

Corlys Velaryon stood up, pulling out what looked to be a map before he continued. "They have massed on Bloodstone and are presently ridding the Stepstones of its pirate infestation."

"Well, that sounds suspiciously like good news, Lord Corlys," King Viserys responded, but Cressida didn't share his opinion. Lord Corlys had made his wealth and established his House's power from controlling the trades across the Narrow Sea. If somebody were to disrupt the already-set power over it, the Lords of Driftmark would have nothing to rule over but empty shipyards and dead towns.

"A man called Craghas Drahar has styled himself the prince-admiral of this Triarchy." Lord Corlys stressed. "They call him The Crabfeeder due to his inventive methods of punishing his enemies."

The doors of the council chambers opened, and Cressida ducked to make herself invisible to whoever entered. But judging by the lightness of the steps and wafting smell of dragon, Princess Rhaenyra had undoubtedly entered the room.

"And are we meant to weep for dead pirates?" The King questioned the Master of Ships. Corlys Velaryon bowed his head slightly, looking exasperated. King Viserys didn't wish to see the threat the Triarchy presented, replying. "No, Your Grace."

"Rhaenyra, you're late." The King addressed his daughter as she finally made her presence in the Council. Rhaenyra walked around the table, letting her father continue, "King's cupbearer must not be late. Leaves people wanting for cups."

Princess Rhaenyra smiled down at her father, not looking particularly apologetic of her tardiness. "I was visiting mother," she said, giving the King a kiss on the cheek.

"On dragonback?" King Viserys asked, taking a sniff off of her. The look of amusement of his eyes made Cressida yearn for her own father. Although their relationship has been turbulent in recent years, starting with her being passed over as heir of Storm's End. Boremund made great attempts to mend the resentment Cressida had grown towards not only him, but her Aunt Jocelyn and brother Borros.

Even if she reconciled with them, Cressida was still angry at her family's hypocrisy. Her father had been an adamant supporter of his niece, Rhaenys Targaryen, on her claim to the Iron Throne. And her Aunt Jocelyn had an outspoken dislike towards House Targaryen after they passed over her daughter as heir. And now, to avoid conflict in times of peace, Boremund Baratheon had chosen his youngest child over his oldest as Heir of Storm's End and Paramound of the Stormlands.

"Hey, Your Grace, at Prince Daemon's urging, the crown had invested significant capital in the re-training and re-equipping of his City Watch." Lord Lyman Beesbury of Honeyholt and Master of coin interrupted to say. At the mention of the Prince, Cressida felt her inside tighten. "I thought you might urge your brother to fill his seat on the council and provide an assessment of his progress as commander of the Watch."

Cressida felt her gaze drift towards the empty seat at the King's side, a chair reserved for Daemon Targaryen to occupy. Despite arriving in King's Landing, the Prince hadn't made any attempts to come to the Red Keep. Cressida hasn't seen Daemon since he left to get married to Rhea Royce a year ago. He has reportedly been staying in the West Barracks of the City Watch. Training, overseeing, and becoming one with the defenders of the city.

Still, it had been over three moons since he arrived back in King's Landing and was appointed commander of the City Watch. Cressida wondered why he hadn't come to court. Daemon wouldn't forget her, he couldn't. She had meant more than that.

Meant enough for him to fight against the King's wishes, but not enough to defy him.

"Do you think Daemon is distracted by his present tasks?" King Viserys asked Lord Lyman. "And that his thoughts and energies are occupied?"

"Well, one would hope so, considering the associated costs," the Master of coin replied.

"Then let us all consider your gold well-invested, Lord Beesbury." The King nodded, silently declaring the matter settled.

"I would urge that you not allow this triarchy much latitude in the stepstone, Your Grace." Lord Corlys once again brought forward his concerns over the Triarchy. "If those shipping lanes should fall, it will beggar our ports."

"The crown has heard your report, Lord Corlys," answered the Hand of the King, Otto Hightower, for His Grace. Cressida felt her inside freeze at his voice, the matter of her marriage being brought forward in her mind against her wishes. "And takes it under advisement," Otto finished.

A still silence washed over the table. The lords, much like herself, seemed frozen in their chairs. Awaiting the King's word on Lord Corlys's report. But it didn't come, and the Hand's assessment was definite.

"Shall we discuss the heir's tournament, Your Grace?" Otto Hightower broke the tension in the air. There was delight in his intonation that made Cressida's skin crawl.

"I would be delighted," the King declared, and Cressida decided she had heard enough of the Small Council. Especially if they were to talk about the tourney, as it has been the only subject present on the table for the past weeks. As she crawled back into the passage, King Viserys' excitement for the birth of the Heir to the Iron Throne followed her out. A scowl grew on her face, because she believed the Heir to be among them.

Rhaenyra had the capability, and right to be Queen. She will sit on the Iron Throne. Cressida refused to see Princess Rhaenyra stripped from her birthright as she had been.

♰

NOTES. there's the first chapter of beware the fury!!!

i'm so excited to write this book, even if it is a challenge because of how complex the world of ASOIAF is.

there's no daemon in this chapter, but he will be in the next!!

i hope to show cressida's friendship w both alicent and rhaenyra as the chapters go on, i just wanted to focus this chapter on getting to know cressida by herself first.

anyways! i hope you enjoyed this chapter. let me know your thoughts!! i appreciate your comments a lot, they keep me going!