( ACT II; the age of the dragon. )
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chapter 12: the liberation of vulnerability.

THOUGH dreaming, Vaegon felt the utter disparity of whatever he was to face in the oncoming winter clouds. He was on dragon-back, where he clung to a larger than real life Rhaellor, his mount letting out a guttural snarl in the direction of the storm that they were facing, wings pounding. The sight of the ominous clouds, the roaring winds and the biting cold that he could somehow feel in his dream sent shivers of terror through him. The stark sense of doom filled his being the longer he remained aware of his nightmare.

Unable to figure out what it was that he headed toward, they continued to fly forward until inevitably entering the chaotic snow storm of clouds. He swatted away snow and ice that pelted his face, shielding himself the best he could as Rhaellor continued to push through the denseness of the storm, wings flapping loudly.

Amid his efforts to shield his face, he saw something that shook him to his core. Glowing, blue beady eyes appeared in the near distance of the haze seeming to shine through the blizzard, facing directly toward Vaegon where he clung on Rhaellor's back. Their gaze seemed to penetrate his mind, consuming his senses with even more terror and uncertainty of their origin. His heart seemed to lurch in his throat as a cry of terror filled him.

He woke up instantly, sitting erect from where he'd been lying on his pillow-cot, still in his tent in the Unsullied guarded camp where he'd fallen asleep earlier in the night. Not in the blizzard storm on dragon-back and no glowing eyes gazing into his mind.

He was sweaty, his hand running up from the upper portion of his bare back to hair. Making an effort to control his breathing, he pulled away the think linen sheet he'd been covered in and braved his elbows on his knees.

Cool air. He needed a walk. Staying in his tent would likely send his tired mind directly into the troubling nightmare he'd just escaped from.

After pulling on his boots and slipping on a low cut cotton shirt, he wandered into the night to find some relief from the troubling scenes that had plagued his rest. He put blade on his hip as an extra layer of precaution before wandering into the balmy air of the night.

The Unsullied that had been guarding his tent immediately snapped to attention as he exited, where they would normally proceed to follow him where he needed to go. Instead, he tapped the blade on his hip, signaling he was confident enough to be out on his own. And so, the Unsullied stayed where they were allowing him to wander into the night on his own.

The sky was particularly clear, the moon bright in contrast to the hundreds of visible stars in the sky. He hoped the presence of such a calm night would offer him the peace he needed to sleep before the morning unfortunately came with its heat and sheer brightness. Tomorrow, they would be arriving to Mereen to face whatever opposition the slaver city would impose on them. He needed to be rested once they got there.

When he'd reached the edge of the camp and wandered up a small ravine, he found a place to sit on a flat, plateau like bolder. He sighed after taking a seat, looking out over the Unsullied camp where a a few dozen torches glowed, likely those of the guard shifts.

"Your Grace," Raina said, drawing his attention to where the Stark woman stood. She held a shawl around her night gown, the obvious litheness and slight curves of her frame visible as the fabric hugged her body. With her midnight hair loose and flowing over her chest and behind her back, she looked like a sort of goddess of the night. Far more beauty to her than Vaegon had previously realized.

"Lady Stark," he stated kindly. "You're up late."

"As are you," she replied smoothly, a small smile gracing her lips. "I couldn't sleep. When I wandered from my tent in search of some water, I saw you heading this way. I thought I should check on you."

Her genuine kindness of thinking to check on him made his heart swell. Not often was he able to be vulnerable, with anyone anymore. He used to be with Daenerys, but those occasions had become rare at best. He had to maintain a sense of strength to his small council, to his army and its commanders. Perhaps having someone he could simply be vulnerable with was what he needed. Perhaps her as well.

He patted the open stone next to him. "Come, sit. If it were not for you, I'd be alone with the stars and the moon as my only companions. I wouldn't mind carrying on the conversation we'd had the other day, or perhaps a new one."

The sight of the slaves nailed to the makeshift crosses had been enough to keep most of the small council and those alike quiet until a proper camping location was sought out. The next two mornings had been the same, all the way up to where they were now. They would reach the outskirts of Mereen within the next late morning, after an early departure.

She offered a warm smile before wandering to his side to take a seat on the sun warmed stone that had begun to cool as the night progressed. Pulling the shawl more snuggly against herself, she looked to him.

"What brought you out here so late in the night?" Raina asked.

"Nightmares," he sighed, running his hand through his hair. "They often plaque my rest as of late. It often leaves me to take these midnight excursion to clear my mind. Hopefully I will be able to sleep at some point."

Raina frowned. "I'm sorry to hear, Your Grace."

He looked over with a raised brow and a half smile. "When it is just us, Vaegon will do just fine."

She grinned. Her smile brought a glimmer of peace to the king, where he was able to forget their ongoing conquest of Slaver's Bay and the foreseeable life he had as the king of the Seven Kingdoms. He scanned the expanse of the night sky in front of them in hopes of seeing a shooting star. Miraculously, one managed to flash a crossed the sky as if on cue. In excitement, he lunged his hand forward to point, exclaiming, "Look! There was a shooting star."

He hadn't realized his reaction had triggered Raina until he looked over, where she had flinched back in response to his quick movement, her hands raised to protect her face and her expression twisted in a way that said she was expecting pain. To be struck.

Vaegon's expression grew still as he directed his entire attention on her. Immediate regret washed over him as he scooted closer to her in the easiest way he could without further scaring her.

"I am so sorry, Raina," Vaegon uttered in the most sincere way possible. His heart pounded with guilt, the horrible feeling leeching into his limbs.

She managed to calm enough that her arms lowered, her expression contorting into raw sadness. Gingerly, he leaned to embrace her, easy as to not scare her again. After a moment of coaxing her, she leaned into him, her face nestled in the crook of his neck as she let out her tears.

"Who did this to you," he murmured, not particularly a question he was asking her as much as he was asking himself, his thumb drawing circles on the bareness of her tricep as he held her. His emotions were mixed between pure rage that someone could traumatize such a kind woman such as Raina, and guilt for having caused her to relive it. Internally he was beating himself up over it.

She sucked in a shaky breath before speaking. "My time in King's Landing was..." She paused, unable to express the words. Vaegon recalled Barristan's comment of the relief it was to see her 'out of King's Landing' the night she'd arrived to them. The king hadn't considered the comment until now. Until he realized that Raina must have been through hell while there.

He gave her time to gather herself, comforting her. She would speak if necessary. He would not pressure her.

"I was the handmaiden of Princess Malkyn Baratheon," Raina uttered, her voice still somewhat shaky. "Or perhaps, Lannister would be the better nomenclature." She sniffled. "While I was her handmaiden, my sister Sansa and I received a fair amount of... cruelty. From many different people. Joffrey. Cersei. Those who did their bidding. I do not wish to appear weak or broken, Vaegon, but my trauma is not something I can control."

As she looked up to him with her dark eyes swelling with tears, her lip trembling as she fought to keep herself together, he simply pulled her tighter to him. In a way, it was almost as if he were being vulnerable himself as she was with him. He hadn't felt such raw understanding and emotional intimacy in quite sometime.

"Never apologize for allowing yourself to be vulnerable," he gently scolded her as he held her. "I would stay up all night if it meant it helped you."

He continued to hold onto her as she explained the horrible things she went though, the execution of her father, the cruel punishment she received just for being his daughter. Vaegon hadn't held much opinion about the Lannister's until Raina came and even then, he hadn't heeded much to the claim they were horrible. But now, after seeing Raina break the way she did, he vowed to himself he would see the house crumble.

Seeing how strong she was, how well she kept herself together and fought through the hardest point of her life, Vaegon recalled what Jorah had said a while back.

"The Stark woman may not have the Valyrian blood you wish for, but she would be a suitable queen."

The thought crept further and further into him, where he knew it would never go away until he eventually made a decision on it. Yet now was far from the time to be making such a decision. Raina had fallen apart in his hands like molded sand, crumbling from the slightest pressure. He would never judge her for breaking in the way she did. He admired her. Anger ruled his life, yet it seemed Raina allowed sensibility and mindfulness cater to hers.

"As long as you stay within my care," Vaegon told her softly as silent tears still fell down her cheeks. "I will always protect you with everything I have. I can guarantee you that."

They sat close together in the silence of the night, listening to the hum of the wildlife and the gentle flowing of the breeze.