Chapter Text
“Baela! The ceiling will not hold, we’re under attack from the mighty dragon, Balerion.” You screeched, hiding under the makeshift den you and your sisters had crafted from warm coloured chairs, carpets and cushions.
“I will eat you all alive!” Rhaena said in a raspy voice, imitating the dragon. A series of giggles was let out from you and Baela, as your sister Rhaena roared and shook the chairs that held up the lair. Your mother, Laena Velaryon, watched from the doorway, smiling.
“And in swoops Vhagar, to battle The Black Dread and save the day!” Your mother exclaimed, waddling towards the den as her belly swelled with your youngest sibling. She wrapped her arms around Baela, tightly hugging her.
“The great dragon has fallen,” Laena said, smiling all the same.
“Oh thank you Vhagar we’re saved!” Rhaena said, crawling out of the den with you to join the group hug.
Eventually, everyone settled around the fire after the den was dismantled and respective items placed back to where they came from. Laena sat on a chair while you and your sisters gathered around the fire. Rhaena had grabbed her dragon egg and held it close to the orange flames.
“She’ll hatch one day, I know it. And then I’ll be a dragon rider, like Baela and Mother and Father. We can share a dragon, sister. Then we’ll both be riders, and Father will be proud.” Rhaena said, smiling over at you. It warmed your heart to know she’d share her dragon with you as you both had to deal with the despair of not having your own eggs hatch like Baela’s had in her cradle.
“Having a dragon won't change him, Rhaena,” you murmured.
“Do not worry so much about becoming riders to please your Father, he loves you in his own way, and I love you enough for the both of us.” She spoke, coming down from her chair to sit on the soft carpet beside you and your sisters, holding all three of your hands in hers and placing a gentle kiss on each one.
“One day you will become the best dragon riders there ever was, but some eggs never hatch. I wasn’t one until I turned fifteen.” She held her arms around all of you, holding the three of you close, pulling you all in tighter.
“And now I ride Vhagar, the largest dragon in the skies.”
“Is Vhagar even bigger than Balerion?” you asked, having covered the topic of Aegon and his sisters Visenya and Rhaenys in a history lesson the day prior.
As the conversation changed topics, The Rogue Prince, Daemon, watched his daughters and wife sit by the fire together, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.
His face twisted hearing you speak of him, staring at the ground in thought. He ensured his daughters were well educated, safe, and cared for. He lectured you all on High Valyrian individually, though he struggled to find ways of bonding with all of you other than through teaching. He often thought hacking his way through the Stepstones was easier than raising three daughters. Without Laena’s help he’s not sure they would have made it this far.
~~~~~
The next morning, you had broken your fast with a slice of peach cake, much to your mothers protests. “Darling, it isn’t good to have cake first thing,” she would say to you and your sisters. Though no matter how many times she lectured you, it never seemed to work.
You spent the day attending lessons with your tutor in the library while your parents left to go flying later on in the evening. The estate you and your family were residing on was well lit by candles and grand chandeliers. The walls were built of strong sandy coloured bricks that was complimented well by the odd addition of deep brown wooden arches and flourishing plants and flowers that adorned the numerous halls. The warm palette provided a glow to each space, and even in the library it was never dark.
When your parents had returned from their flight, you and your sisters were all huddled up in your room, choosing to share the one bed for the night.
You had all long drifted off as the sun had set and stars and constellations now ruled the sky. But no matter how thick the walls were they could not conceal the screaming coming from inside the estate. You awoke with a start, gently sitting up to not disturb Baela and Rhaena next to you.
Hearing the pained cries faintly echoing down the hallway outside you quietly got up and snuck outside, taking extra care to close the giant wooden door on your way out. One of the guards gave you a sideways glance as you explained you were going to fetch some water from the kitchens. He gave a curt nod in reply.
Rushing down the corridors, you followed what you thought to be your mother’s voice to the entrance to your parent’s chambers. The door was closed but your father stood outside, pacing.
“Has Mother’s labour begun?” you asked, your voice knocking him out of his catatonic state.
“Yes, it has,” he replied, his pacing coming to an end as he turned to look down at you.
“Will Mother be okay?” You asked, growing tired. You slouched down on the wall facing the entrance to your parent’s room, bringing your knees into your chest and resting your head on them.
“Don't worry about her, she'll be okay,” he stated, speaking in Valyrian, coming to sit next to you on the ground. “Mirre kessa sagon sȳrī,” all will be well.
He combed through your hair as you leaned against each other, waiting.
Laena’s labours lasted for a day and a night.
Upon hearing the news of the birth of your brother the castle broke out in celebration drowning out the maesters warnings of her declining health.
As you walked in, you took note of the strong metalic twinge in the air. Maids frantically rushed around offering cold compresses to your mother as she lay in her blood stained bed, her chest heaving as she tried to calm her breathing.
“My sweet girls, come,” she croaked out, her voice barely a whisper as she struggled to hold her hands out to greet you and your sisters.
“Do not worry about me, I will be better soon.” Every word seemed a great labour, and you scarcely believed her. She caressed your cheek, her touch ghostly, all of her previous strength gone. Gathering around her bedside you and your sisters grasped at her fragile hands.
“Though I cannot say the same of your brother.” At the mere mention of him, her voice cracked and you could see the tears pooling into her eyes. “I don’t understand,” Rhaena said, distraught.
“Girls, head to your rooms.” Daemon uttered from behind the three of you.
“But Father-” Baela had protested, cut short by his head shooting up with a fierce warning.
You and your sisters knew not to question him in this state and quickly followed one another to your rooms but not before Laena could express her love for you and your sisters, her beloved daughters, one more time. “Remember that I love you all, always,” she spoke, trying her best to sit up with Daemon’s hand behind her back aiding her. As the doors closed behind you, the last thing you saw was the image of your Father’s forehead pressed against your Mother’s and her kind smile.
What the maesters had discovered upon the birth of your brother was a disfigured child. His hands and feet were webbed with thick skin the colour of ashes. His legs had twisted into each other at the knees and he could hardly breathe, even with the aid of the maesters.
His rosy cheeks had turned an icy blue in Laena’s arms as he spent an hour grasping at life. He did not survive, and passed in her arms as she wailed in the pain only a mother who had lost her child could understand.
Unbeknownst to you and your sisters, huddled in your rooms underneath the warm embrace of each other, your mother had passed away. Through the night, she mustered her strength and crawled to the courtyard in front of the estate where Vhagar often waited for her to go flying. She had sat on her knees, cradling your brother's limp body, crying for death. To die by dragonfire, and so she had.
You, Baela, and Rhaena had wept since. Your Father had numbly let you all cling to him, as you feared he may too vanish.
~~~~~~~
Your mother’s funeral was a miserable affair. You stood by the stone wall that looked out to the endless sea, where your mother now rested. The waves swept up the jagged rocks that lay at the base of the wall spraying seafoam throughout the compact bay below. The clouds remained dark and looming above, threatening to rain. You absently watched the ships in the docks sway in the currents and thought of how your mother would remark, “Today would be a terrible day for sailing, let us gather by the fire instead.” Though Baela would often argue that any well seasoned sailor should be capable of navigating, no matter the weather. “But the wise sailor knows to avoid it all together,” she would reply, and so you would all head inside.
And so you stood, observing the view before you, until a hand was carefully placed on your shoulder. You turned and saw your grandmother, Rhaenys. She knelt down and pulled you into her embrace. “Do not worry child, I’m here,” she cooed, rubbing your back, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. You reciprocated her hug feeling at home in her arms- she reminded you of your mother. You both stayed like that for a while before she pulled away and wiped your damp cheeks, “I will be back soon, let me check on your sisters,” she spoke tenderly.
This left you to resume watching the sea, tears slowly flowing down your cheeks as you leaned into the wall, the cold wind nipping your hands. You stood unaware of your surroundings for a while, losing yourself in the view and the sound of sea birds circling overhead. Until you felt a presence beside you.
“Are you here to offer your apologies for my loss and the promise that time will heal me?” you choked out, your throat raw from crying, glancing over at the boy. His snowy white hair resembled yours as it danced in the wind, his purple eyes nervously meeting yours.
“I- no.” he said.
You turned to face the sea once again. This time however, he placed his hand over yours. If he was shocked by the coldness of your hands he didn’t show it, he simply held your hand in his as you both gazed at the now amber horizon.
As the hours ticked by, he did not move. Only when the wind picked up, did he pull you over to the fire nearby where your sisters sat. You both stood side by side in silence, hand in hand, with a mutual understanding between the two of you. “Thank you,” you mumbled, so silently you were afraid he wouldn’t hear you. He said nothing, and instead squeezed your hand.
~~~~~~~
As the funeral drew to a close, everyone had been ushered inside and the children sent to their beds. With a great reluctance you parted from Aemond. Though you had never met before, there were only two boys dressed in Hightower green with Valyrian features, and he was the younger of the two, so his identity could be deduced from that.
You and your sisters had not shared a room that night, though you had ever since your Mothers passing. Unable to sleep, you chose to wander the corridors of the castle, searching for them. It was during this sleep-ridden walk that you heard commotion coming from the main hall. Standing atop the staircase, you could see your sisters huddled behind your Grandmother, and Jace and Luke clutching Rhaenyra's skirts.
Aemond sat by the crackling fire with a maester by his side patting a cloth to his left eye.
“Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon,” The Queen had commanded, her eyes puffy and cheeks glossy. The room was silent. Tension hung thick in the air as you quietly dashed down the stairs.
“Rhaena, what is happening?”
“He claimed Vhagar. Mother has only just passed, and all he thought of was going after her dragon.” Rhaena answered, almost growling in rage.
“He said something about Jace and Luke being Strong’s, and then tried to stone Jace’s head in! Luke didn’t mean to cut his eye, he was trying to protect Jace.” Baela finished for her, stumbling over her words. It was now that you realised that blood stained their faces and bruises began to blush on their cheeks.
In disbelief you peaked over at Aemond from behind your sisters, who was sitting in a chair looking in your direction. You saw the bloodied scar that started above his eyebrow and darted down, ending under his eye. The wound was held together with black stitches, and the once sweet-tempered boy who comforted you now glared at your sisters vengefully.
“He can choose which eye he wants to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son.” The Queen continued, hellbent on the blood debt being paid. Luke cried out as Princess Rhaenyra shielded him with her body, insisting no such thing would be happening.
“Stay your hand,” the King warned, looking at Ser Criston.
“No, you are sworn to me!” The Queen burst, tears stains glowing on her cheeks as the flames of the fire reflected in her eyes, her fury almost tangible.
“Alicent, this matter is finished. Do you understand?” The King addressed her, and then the room.
“And let it be known, anyone who’s tongue dares question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons, should have it removed.” His hands tightened around his wooden cane, eyeing the crowd for anyone who might challenge him.
The atmosphere in the room deflated in relief at the King's words, assuming the matter dealt with. Everyone turned to head their separate ways, until the Queen grabbed the King’s personal knife. She stomped through the crowd, with ragged determination fuelling her, knife in hand, swiftly approaching Luke, daring to strike.
Rhaenyra grabbed her arm midair, and held the other in an iron vice grip, just as she was about to swing. The crowd parted, forming a circle around them as guards bolted to protect Lucerys. They both spat remarks at one another, as you and everyone else watched the scene unfold, tense.
“You’ve gone too far,” Rhaenyra warned, as they struggled against each other’s strength.
“I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law.
Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again.” The King and the Hand, Otto Hightower, had begun pleading with Alicent to lower the weapon.
“Exhausting wasn’t it? Hiding under the cloak of your own righteousness,” Rhaenyra snarled as she whispered something to Alicent only shared between the two of them.
Alicent let out a growl, shoving all of her strength into her upper body pushing Rhaenyra back as your Grandfather, Lord Corlys caught her.
When they finally parted, the Princess took a few steps back, grasping her arm. Her sleeve was torn and inside a deep cut oozed blood, dripping onto the floor in a steady beat. The room was silent.
Nobody moved as the attention turned to Alicent, staring at her in shock, absorbing what had just happened. The Queen herself appeared to not believe what she had just done, dropping the knife to the floor, a metallic ringing echoing throughout the great hall.
It was then that Aemond spoke up, “Do not mourn me mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon.”
“This proceeding is at an end.” The King finished, as the crowd parted.