teamfreewilllover

Chapter 1

Summary: A Red Priestess is meant to have one purpose in life, to serve the Lord of Light. When Kiana meets the Rogue Prince, her faith is tested, as she is thrown into a dangerous game. As the Targaryen's rip each other apart, and her visions become true, Kiana must choose between Daemon and her faith.

A smile grew on Kiana’s lips as she felt the warmth of the sun on her skin, her eyes flickering shut, allowing herself a moment of peace. There was still no sign of winter, or the impending doom that the season could bring. The Lord of Light had listened to their pleas and brought a new day, warm and safe. A shadow cast over Kiana, causing her eyes to snap open, her mouth going slack when she saw what had cast it. Syrax, Princess Rhaenyra’s dragon, flew through the sky above them, the creature’s screech vibrating through Kiana’s bones. It truly was a sight to behold, as its strong wings brought the dragon closer to the ground, its rider coming into view. Rhaenyra held on tightly to the saddle beneath her, a grin growing on her lips as she saw the crowd beneath her. A cloud of dust and sand grew around them as the beast landed in the clearing, as Kiana felt the ground shift below her. She could see how the Lady Alicent Hightower had grown still, her eyes wide and focused on Syrax, as if she expected the creature to open its mouth and turn her to ash at any given moment. Kiana found herself lost in awe, her gaze following over the dragon’s golden-scaled body, to its snarling mouth. Rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth glinted in the sunlight, a mane of horns surrounding the creature's head, protecting it from whoever would be ignorant enough to attack it. Kiana had to remind herself that Syrax was still not fully grown, the mere thought sending a shiver down her spine.

“You seem rather taken with her” Rhaenyra exclaimed, jumping down from the beast, effortlessly.

“She is a beauty, Princess” Kiana mumbled, her eyes never leaving Syrax.

“She will soon be able to saddle two. Perhaps you would join me?” Rhaenyra questioned, as Kiana huffed out a laugh.

“I believe my feet were meant to stay firmly on the ground” Kiana answered, watching as the Princess pursed her lips.

“Do you fear her?” Rhaenyra inquired, coming to stand in front of the older girl.

“I respect the dragons, Princess. I believe they are the closest creatures to the Lord of Light” Kiana admitted, hearing a small scoff from beside her.

“If you wish to speak to me, my Lady, you will have to speak up” Kiana stated, her head snapping up to face Alicent.

“Leave her be, Kiana. I wish to have a relaxing journey to the Red Keep” Rhaenyra scolded, as Kiana’s lips twitched into a smile.

“Rhaenyra, allowing her an audience is one thing, but you should not share a carriage with a...” Alicent began, as Kiana raised an eyebrow.

“Commoner?” She suggested, knowing she had no true title.

“Fanatic” Alicent corrected, as Kiana restrained herself from rolling her eyes.

“Is this childish squabbling truly necessary?” Rhaenyra complained, pulling her gloves off with her teeth, in a way that was much un-ladylike.

“It is quite alright. I intended to travel to the Red Temple this morn” Kiana confessed, as Rhaenyra pouted in response.

“I suppose I will have to await your next fantastical tale” Rhaenyra murmured, making Kiana grin.

“Safe journey, Princess” Kiana nodded, giving a small bow before her Princess.

“Are you in need of an escort?” Rhaenyra questioned.

“I believe I remember the way. And if I may say so myself, I am rather capable” Kiana exclaimed, as Rhaenyra’s lips spread into a smirk.

“If your stories are to be held true” Rhaenyra replied, in a teasing tone.

As Kiana turned on her heel to make her leave, her eyes caught that of Alicent for a moment, growing cold under her icy gaze. Alicent had no issue in making her dislike of Kiana known to all around her. Kiana had lived in King’s Landing for a number of years now, her station growing with each and every day, much to the annoyance of many of the noble ladies. The smallfolk had begun to flock to the Lord of Light, their crops growing higher than ever before, their wears stronger than any could believe. R’hllor’s light was shining bright, much to the disdain of the Light of the Seven. To placate the smallfolk, the Red Priestesses of King’s Landing had been given their own chambers in the Red Keep, and within the next moon, the first Red Temple on that side of the sea would have been built. Still, the Great Houses stood strong in their beliefs, mocking Kiana and her Sisters. Times would soon change. She had seen it in the flames. Heard the screams of the non-believers, felt the caress of fire against her skin, burning away any of her doubts. She soon arrived at the Red Temple, which neared completion, the fire on the fourth level to be the finishing touch. She stood in awe of the building, eyes flickering from the red bricks that built the foundation, to the stone pillars that kept the structure together. It was a mockery of the Red Temple of Volantis, but an accomplishment nonetheless.

“You appear lost in thought, Sister” A familiar voice announced, as a flash of red robes caught her eye.

Kiana turned with a smile to face Meira, who was quick to take her arm, pulling her closer to the temple. Meira’s long red robes draped around her shapely body, appearing tame compared to the woman’s blood-red hair, which cascaded far past her waist. Her blue eyes shone with mischief as they ascended the marble steps towards the Temple, towering over Kiana’s shorter frame. She had known Meira ever since she began her servitude to the Lord of Light. They may have only been sisters in name, but the blood between them still ran thick. Meira’s warm hands always brought comfort to her that none other could.

“I have witnessed two wonders this morn. I find my words have left me” She confessed, as Meira’s brow furrowed.

“I am rather intrigued, do go on” Meira exclaimed, as they walked through the large stone doors, both of which had fiery hearts carved onto them.

“My awe towards this great Temple, and toward one of the Lord of Light’s most magnificent creations” Kiana replied.

“Ah, I thought I smelt dragon” Meira grinned.

“You must come to the Dragonpit one day, Meira. My blood coursed through my veins in a way I have rarely experienced” Kiana went on, as the older woman quirked an eyebrow.

“It does sound rather...pleasurable” Meira teased, as the two girls began to giggle.

“We missed you at morning prayers, Kiana” A sharp voice echoed through the Temple, causing a shiver to run down Kiana’s spine.

She turned slowly to face the Flame of Truth, her robes a red so dark, they almost appeared black in the candlelight. Kinvara stood only inches away from them, her blue eyes narrowed, as if she could look right through Kiana. Perhaps she could, the younger girl wondered.

“I was with Princess Rhaenyra, High Priestess” Kiana confessed, unable to hold the older woman’s gaze.

“And how does the Princess fare on this blessed day?” Kinvara retorted.

“She is well. Though, Lady Alicent still runs after her skirts” Kiana explained, watching as her elder nodded slowly.

“Perhaps a wedge could be made between them?” Kinvara suggested, as Kiana’s forehead wrinkled.

“I do not believe I have such a sway with the Princess” Kiana stated, as Kinvara took a step closer to her, blue eyes boring into her own.

Kiana ducked her head, opting to stare at the ground, rather than holding the High Priestesses’ gaze. There was something about the woman that truly terrified her. In all her years, she had never seen Kinvara age a single day, her skin as smooth as marble.

“You do remember the task at hand, do you not? The Targaryen’s may think they are closer to the Gods than men...but it is us, Sister, who truly hear the Lord speak. We must ensure that His will is played out. And to do so, we need a place on the King’s Small Council” Kinvara went on.

“Not even Rhaenyra has such a place” Kiana pointed out, as her elder tilted her head.

“Not long ago, the idea of having a Red Temple in the depths of King’s Landing would have seemed impossible. A man’s mind can be changed with a snap of our fingers...or a woman’s” Kinvara exclaimed, as Kiana gave a small nod.

She knew better than to question the High Priestesses’ commands. Her words were the Flame of Truth, and to doubt her was to doubt R’hllor himself. Still, the thought of whispering sly and devious words into Rhaenyra’s ear, had Kiana’s stomach churning. The girl was only ten and four years, she was still so naïve and trusting. To deceive her at this age would surely harden the girl’s heart.

The sound of boots echoed through the Red Temple, as the women twisted around to find one of the Kingsguard approaching them, a stern expression on his face. Kiana recognised him immediately as Ser Harrold Westerling, one of the longest-serving Knights. It was very rare to find a non-believer daring to set foot in a Red Temple, many fearing it would bring bad luck upon their house.

“High Priestess” Ser Harrold greeted, bowing in front of Kinvara.

“Are you lost, Ser?” Kinvara asked, as Harrold let out a rough scoff.

“I have lived here far longer than you, My Lady. To become lost would be impossible” Ser Harrold retorted.

“Is the Princess well?” Kiana questioned, finding it odd that the Knight would willingly leave her side.

Kinvara’s eyes flickered to the younger’s girls for a moment, not appreciating the hint of concern in Kiana’s voice. The Targaryen’s were stepping stones, just as every man and woman were. To lead them closer to the Lord of Light’s embrace.

“She is, My Lady. It is her uncle that leads me to this...Temple. He asks for an audience” Ser Harrold informed them, seeming unsure of what to call the structure he found himself in.

“If Prince Daemon wishes to seek out the wisdom of a High Priestess, he knows where to find me” Kinvara muttered, in a harsh tone.

“It is not a High Priestess he seeks. It is you, Lady Kiana” Ser Harrold confessed, as all eyes fell on the shocked girl.

“He asked for Kiana...specifically?” Meira inquired, a mischievous glint to her eyes, as Harrold nodded.

“He awaits your presence in the Great Hall” Ser Harrold continued, as Kiana bit her inner cheek, cursing Daemon inwardly.

There was a complex history between the High Priestess and Daemon, the former having once tried to convert him to their faith. Rather unsuccessfully. The relationship between Kiana and her elder were already strained, and the suggestion that she may have favour with the Prince, would not help matters. Kiana nervously turned to the High Priestess, whose lips were pursed tightly.

Kiana herself had never said more than a few words to the Prince, and couldn’t help but wonder why he would wish to see her. She pushed down the sliver of excitement she felt, remembering the first time she had seen the silver-haired man. His confidence had been clear from the strides of his feet to the smirk placed upon his lips. Kiana remembered vividly catching his eye, her heart fluttering momentarily under his intense gaze. She was still only a girl after all.

“Go. The Rogue Prince will not want to be kept waiting” Kinvara stated, in a spiteful tone.

Kiana walked quickly to keep up with Ser Harrold’s large strides as they neared the Great Hall, her heart beating quickly in her chest. Whether it was out of excitement or fear, she did not know. Perhaps, only curiosity. What did the Prince want with her? Kiana’s eyes widened a fraction as the doors to the Great Hall opened to reveal the Targaryen on the Iron Throne, his hands clasped against the arms of the chair, despite the sharp edges. She heard Ser Harrold curse under his breath, before closing the doors behind her, as if he could no longer bear to look at the Prince.

Taking a shaky breath, Kiana placed one foot in front of the other and began the long walk to the other side of the Great Hall, while Daemon Targaryen remained deathly quiet. Kiana was sure a pin drop could be heard as she finally neared the steps of the Iron Throne, her palms growing sweaty. It was rare that she was allowed so close to the magnificent structure, with more than a hundred swords melted into the steps before the Throne. It was a feat amongst men, but not a Throne that Kiana herself had any desire to sit on. Her eyes flickered up to the Prince a moment later, taken aback as the sun shone through the window behind the Throne, blurring his appearance. It was as if the Lord of Light was shining down on Daemon. His silver hair that grew far past his shoulders was partly pulled back in a braid, not one strand out of place. For the first time, she truly understood why Targaryens were seen as closer to the Gods than men.

“Tell me, what is it exactly that a Red Priestess does? Apart from spending your nights on your knees?” The Prince spoke up finally, the mocking tone clear in his voice.

“I find we are rather similar to Knight’s in that regard, Your Grace” Kiana retorted, the words tumbling from her mouth before she could stop them.

“Is that so?” Daemon questioned, leaning forward, his face still obscured by the light.

“You kneel in front of the King. I kneel in front of the one true God. We are all servants in this way” Kiana explained, as a scoff left the Prince’s lips.

“You have a sharp tongue, My Lady” Daemon exclaimed, pushing himself up from the Iron Throne.

“I am no Lady, Your Grace. I am common-born" Kiana confessed, as the man began his descent down the steps.

“And yet here you stand in the Great Hall, a friend of Princess. How is it you have accomplished so much in such a short time?” Daemon asked.

“It was the Lord of Light’s will” Kiana responded, simply.

“ Ah. So, you are as mad as your Sister’s” Daemon grinned, coming to stand only a few inches from her.

Kiana’s mouth went slack as Daemon’s piercing violet eyes connected with her own, somehow appearing a deeper purple than his brother or niece’s. He was just as handsome as she remembered, his features strong and defined, the smirk that played on his lips enough to turn most ladies' knees weak.

“Because I have a belief you do not share?” Kiana stated, as Daemon’s smirk grew wider.

“I can see why my dear niece enjoys your company. But why is it you pursue her so?” Daemon pushed, his head tilted to one side.

Kinvara’s words echoed through Kiana’s mind at the accusation, realising the prince’s reasoning for seeking her out. It appeared he worried for his family more than she had been led to believe.

“Do you believe I will send the Princess astray?” Kiana suggested.

“I fear for my niece’s wellbeing. Surely, even you can understand this?” Daemon went on, as Kiana mulled it over for a moment.

“I fear nothing but displeasing the Lord of Light” Kiana informed him, as she watched a new emotion flash over his face.

Suddenly, Daemon was unsheathing his sword and in one swift motion, he had brought the blade to her neck, causing Kiana to stumble back a step, a soft gasp leaving her lips. With his other hand, Daemon reached out to grab her wrist, holding her in place as he watched the fear grow in her eyes. Kiana gulped as she expected to feel her blood dripping to the stone floor any moment, but the pain never came. Instead, her eyes snapped up to Daemon’s violet eyes, finding amusement there.

“It would seem... you do fear something ” Daemon whispered, in a low tone, his grip on her wrist still tight.

Now with the young girl in such close proximity, Daemon allowed his eyes to wander over her form. She stood rigid in her dress the colour of blood, a stark contrast to her pale skin, which appeared flushed at that moment. The dress hugged her tightly, though she could be little older than ten and seven. Her long black hair grew as far as her waist in loose curls, shining in the light of the Great Hall. As he dragged his eyes back to her face, he found her fear was now nowhere to be seen. She almost appeared...impressed. Her green eyes had softened, plump lips pulling back to let out a laugh, which surprised the prince. His frown deepened when his palm that held her wrist began to sting as if her skin was burning into his hand. With a shake of his head, he pulled back, releasing his grip and pulling his sword back to his side. Daemon decided it was simply his mind playing tricks on him.

“Did you mock the High Priestess in such a way when you rejected her?” Kiana suggested, watching a mischievous glint grow behind Daemon’s eyes.

“No, Little Flame. I simply told her she could put her blessed mouth to better use” Daemon replied, as Kiana bit her inner cheek to stop the laugh that bubbled in her throat.

Daemon wasn’t sure where the term of endearment came from, but he had no mind to take it back. He found it suited the fiery young girl. Still, that did not mean he trusted her.

“I am fond of the Princess. More than others in her life” Kiana exclaimed, as Daemon’s eyes narrowed.

“Alicent Hightower, perhaps?” Daemon responded.

“I will say no more on the matter, Your Grace” Kiana mumbled, realising her mouth had run away with her again.

“Then allow me to. I have little love for the Hightowers, and if they were to ever harm my niece, I would have my dragon burn them alive. What do you think I would do to a common-born who did the same?” Daemon questioned, despite hoping it would not come to that.

The girl before him was...interesting, to say the least.

“I dare to think. It is good then, that I only have the Princesses’ best interests at heart” Kiana stated, in a tone that showed little fear.

“Yes, it is...will you be in attendance for the Tournament?” Daemon inquired, a moment later, as her brow furrowed.

“Why?” Kiana asked, confused.

“I will be there” Daemon said, a cocky grin growing on his face.

A soft laugh left Kiana’s lips at his statement, enjoying the prince’s attention, despite her better judgement. Daemon Targaryen was one of the most dangerous men in all the realm. And he was no friend of the Lord of Light. But he did have a certain fire about him, that Kiana couldn’t help but enjoy.

“I will make no promises, Your Grace” Kiana answered, with a small smile.

Kiana walked through the Red Temple that evening with a childish smile on her face, appearing far too happy for Kinvara’s liking. The High Priestess was readying herself to scold the girl when shouts began from outside the Temple. Screams echoed through the halls, as banging could be heard from the large stone doors to the front of the Temple.

“High Priestess. We must leave in haste. I am told a mob will soon be upon us” A Red Priestess announced, carrying her skirts as she rushed towards them.

“A mob?” Kinvara frowned, as the Red Priestess nodded, insistently.

“Yes. Prince Daemon has gathered the Gold Cloaks, he is making his way through the lower city, rounding up the criminal element. I am told a mob has already forced their way into the Sept for refuge. We will be overrun” The Red Priestess panicked, as Kiana turned on her heel to find Meira.

“They would not dare spill blood in a holy place” Kinvara exclaimed, as Kiana let out a scoff of disbelief.

“This is not a holy place to the people. We are nothing but pretenders to them, High Priestess” Kiana reminded her, as the banging on the stone doors grew louder.

“Gather our Sisters. Now” Kinvara ordered, as Kiana set off to do so without question.

Once the dozen Red Priestesses that occupied the Temple were together, with Kiana clutching Meira’s hand tightly, the High Priestess did something none of them had been expecting. She kneeled.

“High Priestess, this is no time for praying” Meira insisted, reaching for her shoulder.

“If not now, then when? The Lord of Light will protect us” Kinvara retorted, shrugging her touch away.

“From the fists of murderers and rapers?” Meira snapped.

“My life is for whatever R’hllor desires it to be” Kinvara muttered, clasping her hands together and leaning towards the ground.

“This is madness! Kiana, we need to leave!” Meira all but begged her friend, finding her attention was on a singular candle in the corner of the room.

“ Kiana? ” Meira exclaimed, shaking the young girl’s arm, who continued staring at the flame for a few more moments.

“Take my hand” Kiana announced, blinking rapidly, holding her palms out.

She then pulled Meira to the ground, beside Kinvara, reaching out to take one of the High Priestesses’ hands in her own. Their other sisters reluctantly followed until the women were kneeling in a circle, holding onto each other for dear life.

“Lord of Light, look down upon us” Kiana spoke, as her Sisters glanced at her, nervously.

“Lord of Light, defend us” Meira begged, in a shaky tone.

The Sisters closed their eyes one by one, forcing themselves to stay where they were, despite the way the door behind them creaked. If the mob got inside the Temple, they would all be dead by morning.

“Lord of Light, protect us in the darkness” Kiana pleaded, clutching Meira’s hand tighter until her fingernails bit into the other woman’s skin.

“Lord of Light, shine your face upon us” Her sister’s responded.

“ Lord of Light, save us...For the night is dark and full of terrors ” Kiana called out, her eyes snapping open as silence came over the Temple.

A bloodcurdling scream could be heard from the door a second later, as Kiana twisted around, eyes widening when more and more shouts could be heard. The men outside didn’t sound angry anymore, they sounded as if they were...in pain? Scared? Kiana was pushing herself to her feet and walking towards the doors before anyone could stop her. Meira let out a gasp as she watched her friend wrench open the stone doors, her heart losing a beat as she saw what was outside. Flames grew from the ground, as high as the eye could see, the burnt remains of half a dozen men, now little more than bones could be seen inside the fire. Meira rushed towards one of the windows nearby, finding fire there too. Kinvara stayed where she was kneeling on the ground, mumbling to herself in High Valyrian, appearing too scared to move an inch. One of the other Red Priestesses raced to a window on the opposite side of the temple, opening it, as she instantly felt the heat of the fire there too. They were surrounded from all sides. Protected from the anarchy outside.

“He listened...he heard us!” Meira gaped, a beaming smile growing on her face, as she turned back to Kiana who still hadn’t moved from the doorway.

In all her years of servitude, all the rumours and myths she had heard, Kiana had never once seen a true sign of the Lord of Light. Until that very moment.

“ He’s real ” Kiana murmured, closing her eyes, in a moment of bliss.

The flames started to fade as soon as the sun rose in the sky, leaving only scorched earth as evidence it had ever been there. But the smallfolk had seen it. Just as Daemon’s Gold Cloaks had. A crowd had grown over the morn’s hours, as the news of what had happened at the Red Temple spread. Kiana watched from the window as the smallfolk kneeled at the Temple entrance, praying beside Kinvara. The High Priestess looked far too smug for someone who thought they would perish mere hours ago.

“It should be you leading the prayers” Meira muttered, coming to stand beside her.

“I think not. Kinvara would have my head for such insolence” Kiana scoffed.

“It is you the Lord of Light listened to” Meira stated, nudging the younger girl with her elbow.

“We do not know that, Meira. He may have simply wanted to protect His Temple” Kiana insisted.

“Still, the Sister’s talk, Young One. R’hllor’s light seems to be centred on you as of late” Meira pointed out, as Kiana pursed her lips.

“I think you...” Kiana trailed off, spotting a familiar face approaching the Temple, her lips pulling into a grin instantly.

“R’hllor have mercy. He truly is as handsome as they say” Meira gaped, watching as Prince Daemon made his way through the kneeling crowd.

The pair watched as Daemon exchanged a few words with Kinvara, whose shoulders had become rigid the moment she laid eyes on him. Reluctantly, she took a step back to allow him entrance to the Temple, her lips pressed firmly together. He whispered something in her ear as he strolled past, a mocking expression on his face. Kiana was quick to dust down her dress, smoothing her messy hair, much to the amusement of Meira.

“Has the Rogue Prince caught your eye, Sister?” Meira teased, as Kiana sent a glare her way.

“He has done nothing of the sort” Kiana retorted, a blush dusting her cheeks at the thought.

Meira was quick to excuse herself as Prince Daemon made his way up the stone steps, finding Kiana’s fair face immediately. He was still dressed in his black ringmail, a golden cloak hanging from his shoulder, shining in the morn’s light. Kiana’s eyes were drawn to his breastplate, finding it had been fashioned in the appearance of scales. A dragon’s armour. He carried his helmet in his hand, which appeared covered in dirt and blood.

“The Small Council has been set ablaze with rumours of your miracle last night” Daemon informed her, as her eyes snapped to his violet ones.

His silver hair appeared windswept, framing his chiselled cheeks in a way that had Kiana’s cheeks flushing further. She found a small amount of blood splattered against the Prince’s cheek, which certainly did not belong to Daemon. He wasn’t afraid to get his hands bloody, she realised. Nor did he worry about stepping into the Red Temple as a non-believer.

“Did the King send you to find the truth, Your Grace?” Kiana questioned.

“I come here on my own accord, Little Flame” Daemon smirked, as her lips twitched at his comment.

“That is not my name” She stated.

“Yet, it rolls so easily from my tongue” Daemon teased, taking a step closer to her.

“I hear half of King’s Landing has been maimed in your antics, Your Grace. Do the repercussions not concern you?” Kiana asked.

“This city has become lawless. Do you not believe King’s Landing should be safe for all its people?” Daemon retorted.

“Of course. Though, I believe your enjoyment in enforcing the King’s laws did play a part” Kiana suggested, as Daemon gave a slow nod.

“I do find a certain amount of pleasure at removing a raper’s cock” Daemon grinned, testing the young girl with his vulgar words.

“I would sleep sounder at night if that is the punishment every raper receives” Kiana confessed.

“And I do so care about your slumber” Daemon went on, leaning closer still.

“I thought I wasn’t to be trusted?” Kiana questioned, as Daemon gave a small shrug.

“I am a smart man. I can see which way the wind blows. I believe we have more to see from you” Daemon explained, as Kiana’s brow furrowed.

“I am not sure what you mean, Your Grace” Kiana responded, as the Prince suddenly took her arm in his, linking their limbs.

“Tell me, if the raper I mutilated last night was one of your Red Priests, an elder, would you still believe the punishment fit the crime?” Daemon asked, as they began to walk through the Red Temple.

“...Yes” Kiana answered, after mulling it over for a few moments.

“But does your religion not tell you otherwise?” Daemon challenged, as she shook her head, with pursed lips.

“I would spit on the corpse of a raper, follower of the Lord of Light, or not” Kiana muttered.

“My, my. You should be careful your High Priestess does not hear you” Daemon teased.

“What did you say to her when you entered the Temple?” Kiana couldn’t help but ask, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“I told her she should make way for younger flesh” Daemon confessed, as Kiana gave him a scandalised look.

“You are lucky you are a Prince. Many would not have a tongue after such a statement” Kiana informed him, as a huff of laughter left his lips.

“Now, now. Don’t present me with a challenge. I do so love them” Daemon stated, in an endearing tone.

“You have not asked many questions about the events of the night, Your Grace” Kiana pointed out.

“As I said on arrival, the King did not send me. Nor did the alleged miracle. I came for a much more important matter” Daemon confessed, stopping in his tracks, coming to stand in front of her.

“Yes?” She asked, wondering what the Prince would say next.

“...Will you be attending the Tournament?” Daemon pushed, as Kiana let out a soft laugh.

“You are rather persistent” Kiana murmured, cursing the broad smile on her face.

“Should I take that as a yes?” Daemon queried, searching her green eyes.

“Why do you wish me to go?” Kiana replied, curiously.

“You have influence over the smallfolk. We have a shared dislike of the Hightower's. Your presence will please my niece...not to mention, you are rather pleasing to the eye” Daemon smirked, allowing his eyes to trail over her as he spoke.

“I am a Red Priestess, Your Grace. Not one of your whores” Kiana stated, causing his smirk to grow.

“Such a sinful mind, Little Flame” Daemon teased, as Kiana shook her head, fondly.

“Will your insistence end if I say yes?” Kiana exclaimed.

“Quite possibly” Daemon told her, excitement growing behind his eyes.

“Then I look forward to seeing you ride” Kiana nodded, watching as Daemon’s expression grew even more smug.

Zuko/OC

Ten years on from the war, Zuko had finally realised it would never be over. There were still families split apart, prisoners rotting in Fire Nation cells, and a deep hatred between the different nations. No matter how much he tried, how many reparations he forced, his family had fractured the world — and he would need a hundred years to even begin stitching it back together. But he didn’t have that long. Every passing year felt like a decade for his weary bones. He missed his friends. Even his sister. But it had been years since he had anyone by his side. Mai had moved on, and he didn’t blame her for it. She got out before the weight of royalty could crush her. He found himself wishing more and more he could do the same—

“Fire Lord Zuko,” One of his many advisers interjected his feverish thoughts, as Zuko blinked hard. The fragile skin around his scar stretched with some discomfort at the sudden movement, but he was the only one who noticed. “The prisoners are all accounted for,” The advisor exclaimed, gesturing to the fifty or so tired looking individuals crowded into the living area.

Zuko couldn’t help but wince when he noticed there were children amongst them. He hadn’t known, but who would believe him? Certainly not the prisoners who had been locked up for a decade despite the war being over. There were too many eyes on him suddenly, accusing and cold. They didn’t trust his intentions. Any Firebender’s intentions.

“Not prisoners. Citizens,” Zuko corrected, raising his voice enough that the crowd could hear. A few scoffs echoed around the room, but he was undeterred. “This is only a temporary measure. Before reallocation can be finalised. A handful of weeks, and then…everyone can go home,” Zuko explained, as an elderly man struggled forward, a splintering stick under his arm being the only thing keeping him upright.

“Home? What home would that be? My family is gone — yours wiped them out,” The man snapped, his eyes burning with a fury that Zuko would have only expected of a Firebender. But the blue sash over his arm told him sure enough the man was from the Northern Water Tribe.

“I cannot make up for the mistakes of my forefathers—” Zuko began, but the man was already cutting him off.

“No. You cannot. You should leave us in peace until we are truly free. I never want to be forced to look into the eyes of one of your kind again,” The old man spat out, receiving hurried nods from the crowd.

“You should speak to the Fire Lord with more respect,” One of the guards on his right argued, a small puff of fire escaping from his balled fist.

“It is a reasonable request,” Zuko mused, earning an odd look from some of his guards. He knew his words sounded weak to them, but he was tired to start another fight over something so fleeting. “I will leave you in the capable hands of Advisor Ukano,” Zuko exclaimed, waving over Mai’s father.

A sharp nod was sent his way by the greying man, only a few years out of prison himself. But who better to show the ex-prisoners that rehabilitation truly was possible than a man who had been in such a similar position? It was a risk. He knew that better than most. But Zuko refused to believe Ukano would do anything that would jeopardise the chances of him seeing his children again. He had already been absent for most of Tom-tom’s life. As his newly appointed advisor began speaking to the crowds, going step by step through their rehabilitation plans, Zuko was quick to excuse himself. He waved off the guards who tried to follow, needing a moment to himself. Surely, he was allowed at least that. Shutting the large wooden doors behind him, Zuko’s good eye darted around the room to find he had ended up in the kitchens. They were small and barely used, but the building itself had been erected in a hurry. As soon as he passed the bill that would release the last few prisoners of war, plans had to be put in place. Many had spent ten, or even twenty years stuck in the same four walls. They had no idea how to simply be anymore. There were concerns of what they could do and how they could be moulded by the factions growing throughout the world. So, they were sent to be trapped within new walls, to be assessed and reallocated where they could be. If their nations would take them back. Otherwise, the ex-prisoners would likely be carted off to Republic City. A new start, that Zuko found himself foolishly jealous of. Leaning back against the wooden doors, he let out a low sigh, tendrils of fire leaving his lips.

“If you frown any harder you’ll get wrinkles,” A voice exclaimed, high above his head. Zuko’s eyes snapped up to meet the newcomer, finding them leaning back in the steam vents near the ceiling. “And no one wants a wrinkly Fire Lord,” She mused, as Zuko’s eyes narrowed, regarding her closer.