Valerica II
"While different plants have excellent and often life-saving medicinal properties, it is important to ensure that the different treatments you are using do not have effects that clash with each other," Valerica lectured, pacing back and forth in front of the table she'd set up for her 'schooling' within Dragonstone's infirmary "Similarly when administering a treatment to a patient, one must watch to ensure they do not have a bad reaction to it. Similar to how some fruits, berries, or mushrooms can cause lethal symptoms if ingested."
"Um, Lady Valerica? I have a question." One of her new students, a slender, dark-haired slip of a girl named Julienne, spoke up hesitantly. She nearly froze when Valerica paused her pacing to acknowledge that she had spoken up. Still, Julienne swallowed hard and drew herself up in her seat. "Do we always have to keep watch after giving the treatment? I can understand for the first time you give it to a patient, as you can't know how their body will react. But what about repeated administrations?"
Valerica's other student, Katherin, let out a muffled squeak as if alarmed that Julienne would dare interrupt the lecture.
'I really do need to break the girl of that habit. I will not have meek students,' Valerica thought. "... Ideally, you —or an assistant of your own— should always observe a patient after administering each treatment. This is because the body can spontaneously develop a rejection for a substance it has previously been exposed to."
"Why?" Julienne asked.
"I'm afraid I do not know. Much of the human body and its functions are still a mystery," Valerica admitted. However, I grant this is a rare enough event. So I will say that if you have the manpower, you should have someone observe your patients post-treatment. If not, and the individual has previously responded well to the treatment, then it is fairly safe to leave them alone to rest—with the occasional check-in, that is."
Then, after a moment, Valerica added, "Excellent question, Julienne."
The girl's dark brown eyes went wide at the praise before Julienne ducked her head, scribbling something down in her notes as she tried to hide flushed cheeks and a broad grin. Katherin, for her part, also wrote in her notes, tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated. If anything, she wrote with even more fervor than her fellow student. Valerica hoped hearing Julienne receiving praise for asking a question would motivate Katherin to speak up more. Katherin would need to get comfortable expressing her thoughts and ideas if she wanted to be an effective healer.
That wasn't to say Julienne wasn't shy or too quiet for Valerica's liking; she was simply the more curious of the two. In fact, both girls were rather skittish; it took days for her to get them to look Valerica in the eye, and still tended to keep their voices low while speaking. At first, Valerica thought they were simply intimidated by her —Valerica knew and took pride in her ability to make others meek with her mere presence— yet after observing Katherin and Julienne with others, she was certain this was the norm for the pair. The vampiress still couldn't be sure if it was due to their place as servants or if that was just what was expected of women in this land. Either way, it was quite annoying.
She'd have to break the two of their foolishness. Starting now.
"I think it is time for a test," Valerica announced. She amended her statement at the alarmed looks on Julienne and Katherin's faces. "We will have a test at the end of the week. One I've found quite efficient for past students I've taught. For now, you will be doing a final round of study."
Going over to one of the shelves that had been set up for her, Valerica pulled out a thick, leather-bound tome, tucking it under her arm and a small chest. Opening the chest, she set twelve small jars containing a leaf clipping, flower, or other small specimen sample in front of the girls.
'Blue mountain flowers, blisterwart, chaurus eggs, fly amanita, ice wraith teeth, imp stool, pine thrush egg, swamp fungal pod, corkbulb root, slaughterfish eggs, blue dartwing, and spriggan sap,' she mentally named before clearing her throat.
"For now, you two will be identifying these alchemic ingredients using this—" Valerica slid the book across the table toward her students "—text. I also want you to list their uses, what potions it can be used for, what other ingredients it shouldn't be used with, and their side effects. Tomorrow, you will identify twelve more plants and other ingredients from my homeland and your own. And so on until the end of the week. You may work together. But only do so if you trust the other's work because these notes, along with the others you've taken, can be for your upcoming test."
Katherin swallowed hard. "And... that is?"
"I've demonstrated several times now how to brew a simple healing potion, yes?" Valerica asked, receiving a pair of mute nods in answer. "The time has come for you two to attempt to make one yourself. At the week's end, you will brew your healing potions. I will oversee the process but not interfere. When you are done, you will both present the potions to me. After that, I will cut the back of both of your hands. Not deep, the purpose isn't to cause you serious injury, after all."
Now, it was Julienne's turn to speak. "What is the purpose?"
Valerica smiled, purposefully nasty-looking. "To see if the potion is effective, of course. Or rather, for you to see if the other's potion is effective. Julienne, Katherin will be drinking your potion. Katherin, Julienne will be drinking yours. I hope that will make you understand how careful you both must be."
The two girls paled, but Valerica wasn't done with them yet. "If one of you succeeds, I plan to plant some seeds from Skyrim plants in the Dragonstone gardens so that you can access these medicinal plants for your own use. If both of you succeed, I will also leave behind an alchemy table that can be used to brew powerful potions. But, if you fail..."
She let her words linger in the air for a moment. It was more effective that way.
"...then you will no longer be my students."
Julienne and Katherin both gasped, eyes going wide at the idea. They stumbled over their words, each trying to argue or plead against this horrid-sounding test.
Valerica refused to allow such a thing. "I give you one final piece of advice: I am excellent at what I do, and, despite my own... issues, I am a highly effective teacher. Trust what I have taught you, trust in the notes you have taken, and trust in what you have learned. Caution keeps you smart, but fear and timidness will not serve you well here."
Settling at the desk Valerica claimed as her own, she pulled out her journal and gave the two a knowing look. "Better study hard, girls."
Then, she started to write; content to let Julienne and Katherin earn strength through knowledge.
----
The identification exercise was completed two hours later, and Valerica returned to lecturing.
"The best way to gauge if someone has a fever and how high that fever is is by using your own lips. The skin of the lips is very sensitive; the same thing that allows us to realize our soup is too hot before we drink it and burn the inside of our throats allows us to sense fevers in our patients. However, you need longer than a quick kiss to measure how feverish they have become. Nor does it even need to be a kiss, truly. Simply place your lips on their forehead, count to twenty in your mind, and then you can pull back," Valerica explained.
After breaking for the midday meal, Valerica decided Julienne and Katherin had worked on their herbal identifications long enough. Not wanting them to get complacent, she decided it was time for some more lectures.
'I do not know how long I will have with them, so I must make sure these girls know all they can,' the vampiress thought as she watched her two students hang onto her every word, scribbling dutifully in their notebooks.
"If, for whatever reason, you cannot use your lips, perhaps for fear of contamination while they are ill, then the hand is acceptable. However, you should only use the back of your hand. While the front—"
Creek!
The sound of the infirmary door opening interrupted Valerica's words, bringing her lecture to an abrupt end as she turned to glare at the intruder. To her side, Katherin and Julienne also looked around, though with far less animosity. When they mastered a solid glare, Valerica would be proud.
It was the old human man in the gray robe. Cressen. Valerica's new nemesis.
'Even if he must come into my domain, why must he do it while I'm giving instruction,' she thought with rising annoyance. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Cressen limped his way over to the bed where Renly Baratheon lay. 'Ah yes... Well, I suppose if he is just here to check on the young man, then I'll allow it.'
Valerica cleared her throat to continue her lecture. "While the front of the hand is more sensitive to temperature and texture, it also generates a large amount of body heat on its own, which can interfere with your attempt to gauge fevers in your patients. Personally, I find that... Julienne, do you have more pressing matters that require your attention?"
The dark-haired girl's head snapped back towards Valerica, looking very much like a child who'd been caught stealing sweets from the kitchens at night. She shifted in her seat before speaking up nervously, "Maester Cressen is here, Lady Valerica."
"Is Maester Cressen your instructor, Julienne?" Valerica asked, voice sharper than it strictly needed to be. At his place by Renly's side, Cressen perked up at the mention of his name.
"N-no, milady, but—"
"Is that little Julienne?" Cressen called out, a smile pulling on the wrinkles of his old face. "Katherin, too! Both of you are hard at work, I see."
Deepening her frown, Valerica said nothing as she watched Julienne bolt to her seat and scamper to the old man's side. With her notebook in hand, she eagerly thrust it out so Cressen could see her work.
"Lady Valerica?"
A quiet voice turned Valerica's head. "What is it, Katherin?"
The tall blonde bit her lip yet, impressively, didn't back down or avert her eyes. "Please don't be angry with Julienne. Maester Cressen is very important to her."
Valerica raised her eyebrow, giving the girl silent approval to continue.
"You must understand, Julienne wasn't born on Dragonstone like I was. Ser Davos found her at sea when she was little, the only survivor of an awful shipwreck. She was nearly dead from exposure when he brought her back here to Dragonstone, and it was Maester Cressen who saved her. After that, he and Ser Davos convinced the late Lord Stannis to give Julienne a place on the castle staff. And ever since then, Julienne has wanted to be a healer like the man who saved her. And... Maester Cressen is a good man. We've both learned much from him."
' That old story then: a child wanting to impress a father, or father-figure, by claiming his skills for their own.'
Valerica's father, Verro, had been a shrewd man. One prone to casual cruelty and willing to do anything to further his own position in life, including whoring out his own wife and selling the hands of his daughters to anyone useful, regardless of their character. Growing up, Valerica had admired him. She was always there, always watching, learning, and waiting for the opportunity to prove herself to him. Then Valerica's youngest sister, sweet little Celine, died at her own husband's hand, and rather than mourn, Verro immediately set to work finding a man to sell Celine's ten-year-old daughter to.
Ironically, Valerica was certain that she only won her father's respect the night he awoke to find her standing above his bed and slitting his throat. She did it in such a way to ensure that he would not die quickly. Celine hadn't, after all.
Celine had been dead for well over 1000 years at this point. Valerica hoped that time had been peaceful for her.
"...Good healers are not distracted by personal wants or emotions, Katherin," she said. When the blonde wilted, Valerica sighed and glanced toward the widow at the sun. Even through the drawn blinds, she could tell it was dipping down westward. "It's late enough that I suppose a brief break isn't unwarranted. Go, join Julienne. However, when I call you back over, you will both come without question or complaint. Understood?"
Katherin nodded eagerly and went to turn when Valerica added one final statement before settling into her chair. "You're a good friend, Katherin."
The girl's eyes lit up at the compliment. She went to say something, only for Valerica to wave her off. She had no tolerance for sappiness.
Returning to her own Rockjoint-related notes, Valerica could feel the eyes of the old man on her, even as he spoke with Julienne and Katherin. Perhaps that wasn't a surprise; she and Cressen had bumped heads ever since Valerica had decided that the infirmary —and, to a lesser extent, the gardens— would be her domain for the time being. He always watched her warily, as if he was certain Valerica would start poisoning everyone at any moment. Though he hadn't tried to deny Valerica's skill as a healer —certainly because there was far too much evidence in her favor— it was clear that Cressen found her unfamiliar methods suspicious. Whether that was due to Valerica being a woman or an outsider, she still did not know.
After she felt a generous amount had passed, Valerica closed her personal journal, stood, and cleared her throat. The conversation between her students and their former teacher died as all turned to face her.
"Julienne, Katherin, return to your seats. We still have one more topic I want to cover today, and you need to finish your identifications," she said.
Katherin moved immediately at Valerica's word, tugging along a slightly reluctant Julienne. The dark-haired girl snuck quick glances at Cressen over her shoulder as she was dragged along. Still, soon she too was settled on her stool, journal out and ready to write.
"Wilderness Bullseye Illness, or as I'm told it's called here, Tick Target Sickness. We—"
"A terrible thing," Cressen said. "Often treated far too late."
Valerica shot the old man with a cold look that made him squirm. Not only was Cressen not doing her the decency of leaving, but he had also claimed an armchair to listen in on her lesson.
"Indeed," she said, drawing the word out harshly before turning back to Julienne and Katherin. "The key to treating this illness is early identification. Thankfully, this can be done through the large, red target-shaped rash surrounding the bite area. On people with darker skin, check for a small area of paler discoloration and raised center bump in conjunction with symptoms like headaches, fatigue, fever, etc. Early detection of the illness is vital in properly treating it, which can be done..."
Valerica let her voice trail off, waiting for one of her students to pick it up. After a moment, Katherin scrambled for her notes.
"...Uhhhh, through a strongly brewed tea of olive leaves, ginger, turmeric, and cat's glove," the girl said. Then quickly added, "Drunken twice a day for two weeks, mornings and night."
It was a good answer, if somewhat incomplete.
"And?"
"And a poultice made from ground garlic cloves mixed with honey applied to the bite," Julienne finished with a grin.
The vampiress nodded, satisfied. "Using only components found in this kingdom? Yes, that is an acceptable treatment. Using alchemic means will allow for a faster, more effective treatment, but one should always remember the power of natural remedies."
"If I might intercede, it is also imperative to remove the tick if it is still attached, including the head, which can be easily missed if the tick is recklessly ripped out," Cressen said.
Valerica felt her eye twitch. "I was getting to that." She cleared her throat, continuing. "If you suspect or even consider the possibility that someone might have this illness, it is imperative that you check your patient's entire body for the identifying rash. This includes the hairline and scalp, between the fingers and toes, and the genital region."
Julienne let out a sound that reminded Valerica of a trodden-on mouse. Her face flushed bright red. She squeaked out, "The gen— genitals, milady? W—why?"
The vampiress raised an eyebrow. "Well, I've personally heard many men suffer from an unfortunate bite after finding a bush to... relieve themselves."
The girl turned darker, matched by Katherin's red face. The mouths of both of Valerica's students moved silently. They likely both wanted to say something but either couldn't form the proper words or couldn't think of them at all.
"Is there something you want to say, Julienne? What about you, Katherin?" she asked. Valerica was being cruel; she knew very well what their issue was. Except she needed them to say it, as that was the only way Julienne and Katherin could overcome this foolishness.
Cressen cleared his throat, clearly taking an annoying pity for the girls. "If I may—"
'You may not!'
"—Julienne and Katherin are merely uncomfortable with the idea of examining a man's... most personal area. I'm sure you understand that such a thing is inappropriate if the man is not her husband or very young son. Perhaps what you meant to say is to have the man himself examine such area or to have another man do it?"
The look Valerica gave him was even icier than before. "If I had meant that, I would have said that."
She turned back to Julienne and Katherin. "Get this into your heads now: your patients are not sexual beings; they are puzzles to be solved. A healer has no use for foolish things like societal modesty, not when their health is potentially on the line. You are responsible for everyone who comes before you. No exceptions."
Turning back to Cressen, her cold stare intensifying. "Unless you are suggesting one's own comfort is more important than the lives of patients?"
The man had nothing to say, his face carefully blank, allowing Valerica to return to her lecturing as the day continued. Cressen remained perched on his seat, though he stayed quiet, and Valerica was content to ignore him. It was only when she could audibly hear Katherin's stomach rumbling that she decided to call an end to the day's lessons. Her own thirst was beginning to nag at her throat as well.
"And that is where we will end things today," she said. "Make sure you go over your notes tonight and create a list of any questions you have. We will use those to open tomorrow's lessons. We will also be continuing with your identification assignment."
The sound of shutting books and scraping chairs filled the room. Julienne stood up first, stretching her body and smoothing down the skirt of her dress.
"You're so knowledgeable, Lady Valerica," she said cheerily. "If I may ask, how long have you been a healer?"
"I, too, would like to know that," Cressen added.
Had it only been the man who asked the question, Valerica would have ignored it. Julienne, however, was her student, and Valerica was always prone to be more indulgent of her students.
"I was a healer before I was anything else, I suppose," she said. "My earliest memory is as a young girl helping the family's personal healer cultivate alchemic ingredients in the gardens of my family's estate. Sometimes, my sisters would join us, which would always be wonderful days."
The family gardens were one of the few places of peace Valerica had as a girl. Her father had been a man who was highly conscious of his own health and, therefore, spent a significant amount of time and effort ensuring his personal healer and alchemist had access to the best ingredients possible. Aid in the gardens and alchemy tower made Valerica feel useful. More than that, it had been leverage that her teacher, Nevar Astrotos, had used to keep Verro from marrying Valerica off for as long as possible, claiming he couldn't possibly work without his assistant.
The lie only worked for three years, yet Valerica still appreciates the attempt to keep her safe all these centuries later.
Most importantly, the gardens were where Valerica developed her own curiosity about the world.
"As I grew older, my interests strayed from the healing arts to... other areas of herbalism and alchemy, as well as a scattering of other subjects," Valerica continued. "Nonetheless, I ensured I never lost my healing skills; they were too important."
"I suppose even strange lands need healers, too," Cressen mused.
Valerica pursed her lips, considering if she should explain. Another glance at the man was all it took for her to decide.
"It was more than that," she said. "When I was young, my teacher's wife told me a story about her own homeland. I don't remember its name, yet I will never forget that it was a land with a proud history of female healers. Midwives, moss women, magical healers... all kinds. It was believed that, as women are the ones who give life, they are the ones best equipped to care for it. It was like this for centuries, and all was well; in fact, the kingdom was renowned for the health of its people. Eventually, there came a king who grew jealous and suspicious of the healers after his sickly son tried to marry the woman who was caring for him. Within twenty-five years, the narrative that healers were bedding daedra, causing sickness they could profit by treating, and all number of foolishness had taken over the land. Within fifty, the plentiful female healers had dwindled to almost zero, and the knowledge they possessed was all but lost."
That had been the thing that stuck with Valerica's younger self the most. Not the death, nor the cruelty; no, Valerica was more than familiar with such things in her father's court. It was the loss of knowledge that affected her. Lives were one thing. More people could always be born. But lost knowledge could never be regained. The very thought was so tragic that, even now, it made her want to weep. As a child, it made Valerica swear to herself that she would spend her life learning as much as possible and then passing on that knowledge.
Thankfully, being a vampire, Valerica had a great deal of time to learn and teach.
And here she was now, an old, old woman trying to hammer knowledge into the heads of another round of stupid young girls in the hopes that they'd use it to survive where so many others had failed, falling into the traps of the world around them.
Julienne's eyes were wide. "That's—"
Valerica cut her off to level another sharp look at Cressen. "You, maester, tell me about what this land has to offer regarding healers."
The man looked surprised by the order. His mouth fluttered open and closed for a few moments, lips starting to form words a dozen or so times before finally settling on, "Well, there are maesters such as myself. We receive extension education at the Citadel, after which many of us are sent out to serve the lords of Westeros in all things, including their health and their families."
"Hmm." Valerica pressed her lips into a thin, tight line. "The maesters serve the noble houses, you say?"
"...Yes."
"So their services are restricted for the majority of the population?"
Cressen blinked, seemingly stumped by Valerica's line of questioning. "That is... not how I'd phrase it but I suppose that—"
"And I don't suppose that there are any female maesters?" Valerica pressed, enjoying the tension building in the air.
"N—no, Lady Valerica. The Citadel does not permit women," the man said. He didn't look happy about it, although Valerica suspected that was more because he knew Valerica would find the answer disagreeable. Then he added quickly, "But there are female healers in Westeros."
"Oh?" Valerica was doubtful.
Cressen nodded
"Yes. There are the traditionally trained midwives used by the smallfolk, obviously, and woods witches," the man explained. "Oh, yes, you are unfamiliar with that concept. Let's see... They are women who either travel around or serve small communities with all manner of herbal healing. Many also claim to use spells and charms that assist in such matters, though I am dubious of such claims."
Oh, now that was interesting! Valerica knew that magic was not an unfamiliar concept to the people of Westeros. Yet it was far more uncommon, on the verge of being relegated to myths and tales, and among those who did believe in it, it was treated with more fear and suspicion than in even Skyrim. Indeed, the only source of it she had confirmed herself were those dragons. The idea that there was an entire group of women who used it opening gave her hope that—
"There aren't many woods witches left in Westeros, of course. Likely less than a hundred, at least south of the Wall. From what I have read, they are still plentiful among the wildlings." Cressen nodded to himself. "I suppose that does make sense. Woods witches are part of the old ways of the world. Septons do most of the healing among the common people these days as part of their faith, although I'm unfamiliar with the specifics, with the assistance of their attending septas—" that part was added with a quick look at Valerica "—and the wildings have none of that."
.
.
.
"Oh." Valerica's interest dropped away. "The 'old ways,' you say? So dismissively, too, I might add. Tell me, Maester Cressen, how did you gain most of your knowledge?"
Once more, her question caught the man off-guard. "Well... Many years of experience has been the best teacher, of course, but before that, I trained at the Citadel."
"Where you learned from books, I'm sure." When Cressen gave a hesitant nod, Valerica continued. "Books written by people, knowledgeable people, from long ago. Do you consider the information within those books to be of the 'old ways' too?"
"It... can be." Despite it not being a question, it was phrased with confusion and nervousness that made it come across as one. After a moment, Cressen cleared his throat and, with more command in his voice, added, "Certain volumes contain information that we now know to be incorrect or incomplete."
Valerica gave a rueful smile. "Despite my appearances, I am not a young woman, Cressen. I've seen many times how something that is held up as fact one day can become a fallacy the next. Still, I hold a firm belief that the past and the beliefs of the past are more than worth studying. Do you and your... Citadel disagree?"
The man offered her no true answer. Whether that was due to being unable to defend his beliefs or having never asked himself this question was unclear, yet ultimately unimportant. After another period of uncomfortable yet preferable silences broken by unwanted comments, Cressen bid farewell and vanished through the infirmary doors with a swish of his long gray robes.
When the door audibly shut behind him, Katherin turned to Valerica with wide eyes.
"Lady Valerica, you were so—" The girl cut herself off, swallowed hard, and started again in a calmer voice. "Lady Valerica, you shouldn't disrespect the order of Maesters. They do much good in the world and are the keepers of knowledge. Even if they differ from what you're used to, they are worthy of respect."
Valerica fought the urge to scoff. 'Respect,' a word thrown around so much it had long since lost much meaning to her. However, rather than say that, she asked, "Do you want to be a healer, girl?"
Katherin fumbled over her words. "Y—Yes, of course. That is why I'm here, milady."
"And would this Citadel allow you to become a maester and heal others?"
"No..." the girl said at the same time Julienne piped up with, "As Maester Cressen just said, the Citadel doesn't accept women."
"Then there are things about that system to be questioned." Valerica gave Katherin and Julienne a sharp, knowing look. "Start questioning if you want to get anywhere in life. Saying silent and accepting everything told to you as 'simply the way things are' or some unchangeable certainty will keep you stuck where you are. Question anything and everything you think you know, even if it is told to you by something or someone that you respect; that is how you expand your mind. That is how you move forward in life"
The girls look at each other briefly before turning back to Valerica. Julienne raised her chin in a show of grit that the vampiress had yet to see from either. "Including you, Lady Valerica?"
The woman held back a grin. "At least I can be sure you're paying attention to my words, Julienne. Now, it should be time for supper. Pack up your things, wash up, and rest well tonight. Go over your notes, of course, but I expect your minds to be sharp tomorrow."
With a flutter of pleased goodbyes, a particularly glowing smile from Julienne, thanks, and promises not to stay up late, Valerica was soon left alone in the infirmary once more.
'Centuries pass by, and little girls are still little girls. Foolish, but capable of learning. So long as I can raise their confidence, that is.' Valerica let out a sigh as came to Renly's side to check him over herself. For all Cressen was said to be a skilled healer, Valerica would not trust the health of her patients to anyone else.
Staring down at the young man, Valerica's dead old heart felt a pang of sympathy. Renly's color was good, his breathing and his pulse were steady, the wound on his head was healing well, and when she pulled the man's eyelid to check, his pupils were responsive. All in all, he was as healthy as he could be, given the circumstances. Except...
'It has been three weeks since he was injured, and Renly has still not woken up,' Valerica thought. More than a dozen different strategies, magical and not, had been tried for rousing the man , and none had resulted in more than a twitch.
At this point, prospects for the young man were grim.
They were getting to the point that, even if Renly did awaken, there would undoubtedly be long-term consequences. From what Valerica had read about similar incidents, Renly could be looking at a future of vision issues, speech problems, poor memory, explosive anger, inability to control impulses, headaches, insomnia, and even impotence. Valerica wasn't sure how much that last one would impact the young man or his relationship, but she doubted he'd enjoy it. To say nothing of how he was one of the potential heirs to the crown of this realm.
'At this point, would it even be good for him to awaken?' the Vampiress wondered. 'Considering the potential lasting effect, survival might be crueler. This appears to be a martial society; in all likelihood, Renly would be judged harshly if he couldn't fight, especially with a brewing civil war.'
Turning Renly's head to the side, Valerica's fingers trailed down his neck, pausing to hover over his pulse point. Would that work? Whatever damage had been done to his brain, could being turned into a vampire save him?
Before the thoughts could even take their final shape in her mind, Valerica pulled her hand back and shook her head. No. That was not the answer here. Not only was there no guarantee that Renly's body was strong enough to survive the transformation, but Valerica had also promised herself —and Serana— that she would never turn someone without their express permission, permission that Renly could not give in his current state. Not when it would be such a permanent part of his life.
It had been a whim when she offered the bite to the Baratheon girl's mother. After all, the woman had little chance of surviving the transformation given her state, yet her injuries marked her for death either way. So what was the harm in offering? A chance, however small, was still a chance.
Sitting in one of the armchairs, Valerica rubbed her chin and considered her options. She was never one to give up on a challenge, and Renly was certainly proving to be just that. Between her, Cressen, and Recilia, they had tried a dozen different treatments to rouse the young man. None had resulted in anything more than a twitch of the facial muscles.
'All right, old girl, Think. What else do you know about browsing someone from this state of unconsciousness?'
No one knew much about what was going on in the mind and body when one was in such a state. While healers, mages, and scholars had all theorized, and some had even experimented, it remained a mystery. Still, if Valerica could remember correctly, several sources had written about stimulating the senses having positive results. It was one of the reasons that healers tended to recommend loved ones speak to comatose patients.
Hmmmm… Stimulate the senses… Now, there was a thought.
Had Valerica brought that crushed crimson nirnroot Jon harvested for her?
Creek!
"If you're going to come in, then come in. There's no need to hover at a doorway in your own castle."
The door opened wider as Shireen Baratheon stepped through it, a small, sheepish grin on her young face.
"I didn't want to bother you if you were treating Uncle Renly," Shireen lied. The fluttering sound of her heart gave away her nervousness. "How is he doing?"
"Not good," Valerica admitted, frowning down at her patient. "Nothing we've tried so far has brought him around, and each day that passes worsens the potential long-term effects of such an injury. It also decreases the chances of him ever waking up."
The small smile dropped from Shireen's face. "Oh… Is there anything I can do?:
The vampiress tapped her chin in thought. "I'm considering going somewhat experimental in my next attempted treatment. You see, sometimes, if you can provide some sort of extreme stimulation of the senses, it can bring someone in a deep state of unconsciousness back to the surface. I was considering brewing a concoction that would stimulate an extreme sensation of pain in your uncle. Nothing will be truly harmful about it, of course. But the idea is that his body will be in such agony it will make his mind react as if it were in danger."
"...Will it work?" Shireen asked, giving her uncle a somber glance.
Valerica shrugged. "As I said, it would be an experiment. I can't say one way or another if it will be successful; we'll just have to try it. If Renly wakes up, then good. If he dies, then at least he'll be at a final peace. That being said, at this point, we are running out of better options. Still, he is your family. I will not perform this procedure without your agreement."
The grim ache of inevitability filled the air, yet Valerica was content to wait for Shireen to decide. Perhaps it wasn't fair to put the weight on such a young girl's shoulders, but the world was rarely fair. Shireen would have to get used to it if she wanted to rule —and rule well.
Shireen let out a long, pained sigh; eyes still stuck on Renly's prone form. "You know, my uncle and I have never been close. I rarely left Dragonstone due to my father's worries and my mother's shame. The last time I did and met my uncle in King's Landing, I overheard him call me a gargoyle."
"Gargoyles are wonderful creatures. While I doubt the comment was made out of kindness, there are worse things to be compared to."
The girl's lips twitched, but she shook her head and continued. "Perhaps he and I were never meant to have a close bond, yet he's some of the only family I have left. So I need to do whatever I can to help him."
She looked up, meeting Valerica's eyes for the first time. "Do what you have to."
Now, it was Valerica's turn to smile—as much as she ever smiled, that is. "You're starting to show spine. Show more. There's hope for you yet."
Before Shireen could respond, Valerica stepped closer and took the girl's chin in her hand. turning her face to the side so she could more clearly see the rough expanse of strange scar tissue that stretched over Shireen's cheek, the vampires continued. "I find your condition quite fascinating. If you'd permit me, I'd like to study it as well."
Shireen flinched back, hand coming up to cover the affected area. "My face? Why do you want to study my greyscale scar?"
"Because study is how we understand something. and when it comes to illnesses, understanding is the first step to treating." Valerica returned to her books, picking one up and flipping through the pages until she found the appropriate section. Glancing back at the girl, she shrugged and continued. "I am also simply curious. Your condition shares similar traits to a common illness in my homeland called rock joint, which has become easy to treat so long as it is caught in its earliest days. If the similarities are more than surface deep, I might be able to use the treatment for rock joint to heal you and any others with a similar issue."
"Could… you heal me?" Shireen stuttered. "Could you heal my scar?"
"Hmmm, anything is possible," Valerica said, eyeing the strange skin patch. But I must admit that it is not my primary concern. Your scar is ugly, but from what I can tell, it does not hinder your health."
Shireen gave her a wounded look before, strangely, she chuckled. "I feel like I should thank you for being honest. My father tried for years to find someone to heal my scar. He offered quite a bit of gold for it, and as I'm sure you can imagine, it attracted a lot of charlatans. Many came to Dragonstone with vials full of smelly frog guts and strange ointments. Most did nothing; some gave me awful blisters and rashes. I always hated it. One nearly killed me. Father had him executed."
"Your father must have been a fool."
"My father loved me!" Shireen shot back. For the first time, Valerica heard anger in her voice.
"Precisely. Love makes fools of us all." The vampiress cocked her eyebrow. "If you hated these so-called treatments so much, why did you go along with them?"
The girl shifted uncomfortably. "I thought it would make me beautiful. And if I were beautiful, then things would be easier. People wouldn't openly stare at me or snicker behind my back if I was beautiful."
Valerica snorted. "Is that what you think? Very well, I suppose I'll have to be the one to tell you this: life would be no easier for you if you were beautiful. People would just have something different to ridicule you about."
"You're beautiful," Shireen pointed out.
"I am," Valerica agreed. And that made it all the easier for my father to sell me to my husband. That's the harsh truth, I suppose. People would ridicule you for being beautiful by calling you vain, sneer at you for being ugly, and pity you for being plain. Listen up, girl. There is no easy path in life. You've just got to find the strengths you have and figure out how to use them."
Letting out a disheartened hum, Shireen reached up to brush her fingers against the craggily surface of her cheek. "...What do you need to study it?"
"A piece of flesh," Valerica said easily, picking up one of the slim, slender blades used for slicing medical herbs.
"What?!" Shireen's striking blue eyes went wide, and she stumbled back, away from Valerica.
Valerica fought the urge to roll her eyes. "It will just be a small piece, I promise. There won't be much blood and only a little pain. You have nothing to worry about, especially considering the potential benefits."
"Wha—what— No, I—" the little noblewoman babbled as she tried to back away. Her eyes flicked toward the doorway before making the mistake of meeting Valerica's eyes.
"Hushhhhh," the vampiress whispered, closing the distance between them with a smooth, easy stride. "This won't take me long."
The thing about vampiric seduction, specifically hypnotic gaze, is that mortals tend to fear it more than it probably deserves. True, vampires typically use it for nefarious purposes, except the effect itself was apparently quite pleasant—at least, according to the human familiars Valerica had spoken to. It took away fear, anxiety, and nervousness and left one with a relaxed, albeit unfocused mental state.
Shireen's lips moved silently as her body quaked. Gently, Valerica took the child's chin in her hand and turned her face to the side. Using the blade, she sliced off a small sliver of hard, gray flesh from the outer rim of Shireen's scar. Transferring the sample into a glass jar which she sealed up tight, the vampiress then splashed some healing potion onto a clean rag and dabbed at her cheek.
"Hush now, girl. It's just a bit of pain and blood. Nothing worth making a fuss over," Valerica comforted, patting Shireen on her unscarred cheek. Once the small wound had completely healed and Valerica had wiped away the remaining trickle of blood, she released her mental hold on the girl. "Lady Baratheon? Lady Baratheon, can you hear me?"
At the sound of her name, Shireen blinked rapidly and shook her head out. "Huh?"
"We were speaking of your uncle's treatment," Valerica lied sweetly. It appears your mind wandered off. That's understandable, given everything that's happened this past month. Tell me, have you been sleeping properly? If demons trouble your dreams, then I have several elixirs I could give you."
It was kinder for the girl not to remember. After all, what good would it do her? Valerica had no patience for explaining the intricacies or convincing Shireen to give up a bit of flesh. That was time that could be better spent trying to solve the mystery of this disease. Hypnotism was a much easier solution. And even if Shireen were to notice that the scar's shape had changed ever so slightly, there was still no proof Valerica had done anything. Shireen would likely think she was simply going mad.
"Oh… Yes… Yes, I recall that," Shireen slowly nodded, still looking as if she had just been woken from a deep sleep. "What had we decided on?"
Valerica smothered a grin. "I intend to brew a potion from something called crimson nirnroot, Along with a few other ingredients. Then I'll create several shallow cuts at different sensitive areas on your uncle's body —nothing that'll do any lasting damage, of course— and add a few drops of the potion into each cut. After that… we wait to see if it works."
"An interesting idea."
That ancient vampiress did not flinch; she had too much dignity for that. So, while Shireen squeaked in shock at the sudden voice, Valerica's gaze simply slid over to the doorway. Shireen had never closed the door. Perhaps she had been too afraid to be alone with Valerica? But the action had allowed the red-clad to slide into the infirmary unnoticed.
'Even by me?' Valerica frowned, eyes narrowing. 'How odd.'
"Lady Melisandre, what are you doing here?" Shireen asked, face going pale.
When the woman—Melisandre—took a step toward the girl, Shireen backed up toward Valerica, which surprised the vampiress. 'She's terrified of me.'
That said something about how Shireen felt about this Melisandre.
"I'm here to get you, Lady Baratheon. There is much to get done today," the woman said, her serene voice matching her lovely face. She held out a hand. "Come along, please."
Ever so slightly, Shireen shook her head. "No, no, I no—"
'This is why I said you needed to show more spine, girl.' Valerica cleared her throat. " I do not remember permitting you to enter my infirmary. Please leave. Immediately."
The 'please' nearly stuck in Valerica's throat, but she spat it out nonetheless. Pairing it with a severe smile, Valerica hoped it would make Melisandre as uncomfortable as she felt.
Perhaps she didn't achieve that, yet the twitch of the Red Woman's mouth told Valerica that she certainly wasn't happy with the response.
"I was unaware this was your infirmary, my lady," she replied with velvety smoothness. "I thought it was the Baratheons', mostly used by Maester Pycelle. Since it is your property, you should also be sending Lady Baratheon away as well. If that is the case, I'd happily escort her."
"These are Lady Baratheon's lands. And she is assisting me in devising a treatment to pull her uncle from the brink of death. She has all the right in the world to be here. You, however, have no place here."
Then, to emphasize her point, Valerica strolled over to Shireen and put her hand on the girl's shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly. Shireen shuddered at the sudden contact, blinking up at Valerica. Then she smiled. While Valerica couldn't read minds, she imagined the girl was mentally thanking her.
Melisandre paused, her lips pursing, before ignoring Valerica's comment for now and turning her attention to where Renly lay prone on his cot.
"It's a terrible fate to be both alive and dead at the same time, don't you think?" she asked in a way that made Melisandre think she wasn't really expecting an answer. "Not able to reach the peace of death, yet unable to interact with the living world. Why, I can't think of anything worse… It makes me wonder if allowing Lord Renly the escape his body clearly wishes for might be kinder."
Valerica had wondered that too, quite often, in fact. That didn't mean she was going to say it now.
"I don't think anyone or anything wishes for death, not truly," Shireen said. "Otherwise, the body wouldn't fight so hard to stay alive."
That was also true enough. The will of any living creature to survive was one of the strongest urges there was. Dogs could gnaw off their own paw to escape a hunter's trap, and humans could be driven to do the truly awful to preserve their own lives. It was a rather pretty thing, but Valerica could not deny it was powerful.
Melisandre gave the girl an indulgent smile. "The urge to survive is powerful, that is true, except it is not always one's fate. Death is the enemy of Life and the enemy of my Lord. However, even R'hollor understands that it can be necessary."
"Enemy? I can't say I agree with that," Valerica replied. When the red-clad woman looked her way, Valerica continued, "Death and life cannot exist without one another. They are not enemies, merely each other's equals and opposites. That is why I do not see the need to be afraid of death. If anything, I think men should find comfort in its inevitability. There is so little to be sure of in this world, yet we all die eventually."
There was another tight smile. "There are few that would agree things are as simple as you make them out to be, my lady." Melisandre nodded toward Renly. " I'm sure Lord Renly —if he is still in there— fears that he may die. Not that I wish that either, of course. Even if I must admit that there could be some benefit to it, should it need to happen."
The phrasing had Valerica tensioning up, unintentionally causing her to squeeze down on Shireen more tightly. When she felt the girl wince beneath her, the vampiress softened her grip and rubbed the girl's shoulder with the pad of her thumb.
'Now, what could she mean by that? What good could a half-dead man be? Except as a meal that couldn't run away.'
To say Valerica hadn't been tempted to take a nibble would be a lie, even if she had deemed it more trouble than it was potentially worth.
Shireen cleared her throat and jutted out her chin, a habit Valerica had noticed she'd picked up for when she wanted to say something important. "Lady Melisandre, you are correct that much needs to be done today. It so happens that one of the reasons I came to the infirmary was to ask Lady Valerica to join Ser Davos and me in today's council meeting. As an honored guest and someone I owe my life to personally, it feels only natural that she be allowed to sit in and give her thoughts."
They had spoken of nothing of the sort. Valerica only vaguely recalled that Shireen was meeting with different Lords and other important folk today. Since Serana and Jon had left, Valerica's main focus had been teaching her students and caring for her patients, although she was certainly keeping her ear to the ground and making plans of her own.
'Smart girl,' Valerica mentally praised. "It would be more than my pleasure to attend. I consider it my duty, both to show my support to Lady Baratheon here and to keep my word to my daughter that I would stay informed as to the goings-on."
At the mention of Serana, Melisandre flinched. Valerica didn't even bother to disguise her smirk. Oh yes, Serana had told her about the run-in with the red-clad woman. It made Valerica wonder what Melisandre thought of them. Surely, she had theories.
'Perhaps I can get her to share those theories. They're surely amusing.'
"Shall we head out then?" Valerica asked, all false cheer and pleasantry. "I will start Lord Renly's new treatment tomorrow. For now, we will have our… discussions."
Not waiting for a response, Valerica stepped forward, gently pushing Shireen along as she went until they were nearly nose-to-nose with Melisandre. Her eyes trailed down to the jeweled amulet hanging at the hollow of the woman's neck, its rich red coloring barely containing the deep pulses of magic.
'Glamor spells, useful little thing,' the vampiress thought, thinking back to her conversation with her daughter. If she had to guess, whatever enchantment was on Melisandre's amulet wasn't too different from the one on the necklace she'd given to little 'Mira', though that one was a touch more focused than most glamor.
Gemstones were commonly used to anchor enchantments. Much like the metal or stone of weapons or household objects, gemstones were solid and often strong. Their structure and composition meant they conducted the magic needed to sustain enchantments well. Beyond that, some enchanters preferred them simply for aesthetic appeal. Not to mention, disguising an enchanted piece as jewelry made it easier to wear and use in everyday life.
It appeared the enchanters of Tamriel were not the only ones who used such a practice.
'Shame I couldn't get my hands on such a pretty piece; I'm sure it'd be interesting to study a foreign land's magic,' Valerica thought, still eying it.
As her gaze shifted up to the woman's entire profile, Valerica couldn't help but consider the similarities between the two of them. Both were tall and pleasantly shaped —Valerica could confidently say that childbirth and centuries in the Soul Cairn had not ruined her figure— with no small amount of facial beauty. There was also the magic, which was hardly the most observable attribute. No, the beauty was where most similarities ended.
Valerica liked to think of herself as a woman who dressed smartly and always suited to the circumstances. Her ankle-length black velvet day dress, with its silver embroidered spiderweb design that was dotted with small, red spiders, was worn under a butter-smooth, dark brown leather overcoat, cinched around the waist with a fashionable belt that also matched her boots, looked appealing to the eye, and stood out against the common dress of those she had found in Westeros. Yet its length and durability allowed Valerica to move easily, which was the most important thing. Additionally, it was, in theory, a warm enough outfit that no one would ever question why Valerica did not seem to be bothered by the cold. Even Valerica's accessories —a braided chain dotted with small rubies, pearls, and onyx's, and some matching, decorative hair pins— adhered to this mindset.
Melisandre, however, served as an interesting contrast. Perhaps the bright red silk robes she wore were not particularly ornate, yet they were certainly eye-catching. The golden jewelry that dangled from her wrists, earlobes, and, of course, neck, or even more so, made a statement; no matter how big of a crowd the woman was ever in, everyone would always turn to look at her. Yes, Melisandre would stand out like a candle's flames flickering in the darkness.
Valerica fought the urge to grin. 'What a pair we'd make. Light and Dark. Fire and Death.'
"O—of course," Shireen said, trying to put on a strong voice. And, with an amusing display of bravado, led the two women out of the room.
Valerica followed, shutting the infirmary door behind her with an audible thud! and promised herself she'd gained something out of this meeting to help her daughter. That, as always, was the most important thing to Valerica. After all, if she could prove herself useful, then Serana might one day forgive her.