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Rhaenyra paced the room and cursed her father, Daemon, Laenor, and herself. She hated everything that was happening and the way it was happening. It was not supposed to be this way. She should have known that following Daemon would be a bad idea, but then, she had always followed him. She had allowed herself to be seduced, and now she was paying the consequences.

“Princess.” The midwife gave her an apologetic look. The woman had been looking at her with pity since she arrived on Dragonstone. “It would be better if you were to lay down.”

“I do not want to lay down.” Any other time, she would have felt bad for snapping at the woman, but at that moment, she did not care. She just wanted to get this over with, and she had heard once that walking helped speed up the process. “Has my father arrived?”

The woman nodded. “He is in the chamber of the painted table, with prince Daemon.”

She let out a snort before looking out of the window at the massive storm forming. She should have known that Daemon would be present. Her uncle had been glad when he found out she was with child. He had always wanted to be a father; her father, on the other hand, was a completely different story. She was not sure what story the king had made up, but he had sent her to Dragonstone before she started showing and had kept her there since then. She knew that he had people spread rumors at the capital about all the different things she was doing in Dragonstone and that she was getting ready for her wedding with Laenor Velaryon. She cursed her cousin’s name also; everything was so twisted, and she was caught in the middle. Her father had spoken to her and Daemon, had them do certain things to keep her condition a secret, and finally told them both they were not to see each other again. If her father was there with Daemon, then that meant he had been the one to send for her uncle.

She let out a scream when her belly cramped, the pain much stronger than it had been the last time. The time between contractions was growing shorter, and the pain seemed to last longer. All she could remember was hearing her mother’s screams as she tried to give birth. One of her hands tightened on the windowsill, and she bit her lip until she tasted blood. Outside, the storm had grown almost violent.

The midwife took a few steps closer to her. “Princess, I have to examine you. You need to lie down.”

Rhaenyra wanted to tell the woman to fuck off, but the truth was that she was in too much pain, and lying down sounded good at that moment. She allowed the woman to take her arm and lead her to the bed. It took her longer than she cared to admit to lie down, her large belly and the amount of pain she was in made things much more difficult. To the midwife's credit, she was quick and efficient when examining her.

“You are progressing well, princess.” The woman gave her a reassuring smile. “You are very close and shall have your child in your arms in a few short hours.”

Rhaenyra did not say anything, but four hours later, she wanted a definition of the woman’s definition of a few short hours. The pain had grown almost unbearable, and she had no short breaks between contractions any longer. Everything was mixed together, and every contraction was more painful than the last. She was sure the midwife was going to let her die when the woman finally told her it was time to push. Things went quickly after that, but to Rhaenyra, it felt like hours passed before she heard a loud and angry cry. She let out short breaths as her body tried to recover from the ordeal it had just gone through.

The midwife took the child without even showing it to her, and Rhaenyra raised her upper body, about to call out to the woman, when she realized that the older woman was just taking the babe to be cleaned. Another woman, who had been helping the midwife, tended to her and helped her push out the afterbirth before changing the bedsheets and cleaning her.

Rhaenyra was about to jump out of bed when the midwife finally returned, with a small bundle in her arms. “Congratulations, princess. You have a beautiful and healthy daughter.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes filled with tears as she held her daughter for the first time. The little girl was completely perfect, she had a lot of silver hair, and her skin was a rosy color. The little girl looked a bit swollen, but when Rhaenyra inquired, the midwife explained that it was normal for a child who had just been born.

She was sure she had never seen a more beautiful child and kissed the little girl’s forehead. She was still taking in every aspect of her daughter when her father walked in, his voice a bit shaken when he finally spoke. “I am told you have a healthy daughter.”

“Yes,” She smiled when the babe wrapped her tiny fingers around her thumb before looking at her father. “She is absolutely perfect.”

Her father nodded, and Rhaenyra noticed the soft look in his eyes before it changed, and his expression hardened. “I am glad you are both well and that she was born strong, but you have a choice to make.”

She frowned, not sure she liked what her father was saying. “What do you mean?”

“People will never accept Daemon as your husband, not while you are heir to the throne. They will not accept your child taking the throne one day.” She could not help it; her arms tightened around her daughter as her father continued to speak. “You can stay with Daemon and your daughter, but if you do, I will remove you as my heir. You both will be exiled for a few years, so the Velaryons will not act against the crown. Maybe after a few years, you can both return with your daughter, but you will never be queen.”

Those were words she never thought she would hear her father say. “You wish to exile me? Remove me as heir if I do not do as you say?”

Her father gave her a pleading look. “You have to understand the predicament you have put me in. You shamed the Velaryons; they will never forgive this, and they are a powerful family. I hid you away to protect you, I do not wish to remove you as my heir.”

She was not sure she understood what he was trying to say. “What other option is there?”

“You could give your daughter to Daemon, have him raise her away from Westeros.” Her eyes widened, but her father continued to speak before she could tell him to go to hell. “You can still marry Laenor and be queen one day. You know that I think you are the best choice for the throne, which is why I took all these steps to protect you. We have a duty to the realm, and plunging the realm into a civil war because you did not keep your word is not the right thing to do.”

“Your word.” She spat out the words, hating that her father gave her a confused look. “I never promised the Velaryons anything; you did. First, you promised me I would be allowed to choose my husband, and when you did not agree with my choice, you went and promised the Velaryons I would marry Laenor. I never promised them anything, so I did not break any promises, but you broke your promise to me.”

Her father did not seem to like her words. “If you wish to be queen, you will have to learn to make sacrifices for the greater good.”

“And what sacrifices have you made for the greater good?” Those words angered her even more, and she did not hold back. “First, you killed my mother in the pursuit of having a male heir, cut her open for a child who lived less than a day.” Her father paled, but she was not done yet. “Then you had the chance to pick a wife, someone who would strengthen our position and make a powerful alliance. You could have chosen Laena Velaryon, instead you chose to do what you wanted and married a woman who brought no fortune, no army, and no powerful alliance.” Her father’s face grew red and he looked angry, but she did not care. “You chose your own wants over what was best for the crown, so do not stand there and give me this speech about doing what is best for the crown when you have done the exact opposite and then tried to use me to fix your mistakes.”

Her father opened and closed his mouth several times before he was finally able to speak. “I have given you a choice. You can either keep Daemon and your daughter, or you can choose to be queen, but you can’t have both.”

Her father turned on his heel and left without another word, leaving her to make an impossible choice.  

                                                  Visenya Targaryen (Newborn.)

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Daemon had always taken pride in his choices, but even he could admit he had messed up this time. He should have never used Rhaenyra to get back at his brother; taking her to that brothel had been a horrible mistake. He did not regret spending a night with his niece; he had always loved her more than anyone else, which is why using her had been such a horrible thing. His brother had been furious and had vanished him again. Daemon had not wasted time; he had killed his wife and then spoken to Rhaenyra. He had been bursting with happiness when he realized that she was carrying his child, thinking that his brother would have to accept their relationship. Viserys had given them both an ultimatum before locking Rhaenyra in Dragonstone for the remainder of her pregnancy. Very few people knew of the real reason why the princess had been sent to Dragonstone. Viserys had made sure Daemon knew that if he tried to see Rhaenyra or speak to her, he would be thrown into the black cells. If it had been another time, Daemon would have simply rolled his eyes, but on this occasion, he had known his brother was not lying. Daemon had stayed away, but made sure to keep in contact with a few of his spies and had them update him on Rhaenyra. He had also been able to get a few letters to her, and she answered a few of them. Communication was difficult since they were afraid of being caught and having Viserys do something drastic.

He had been shocked when he received a letter from his brother requesting to see him in Dragonstone. Daemon had not hesitated; he had climbed on Caraxes and made it to Dragonstone in record time. He had been led to the chambers of the painted table, only to find his brother was already there and letting him know that Rhaenyra was giving birth. Daemon had tried going to Rhaenyra’s side, but had been stopped by Viserys telling him to stay where he was, and he would be allowed to see Rhaenyra and their child afterwards. He had paced back and forth, flinching every time he heard Rhaenyra's cries of pain. He hated not being there for her and his child. Once they had been informed that Rhaenyra had given birth and she and the child were doing well, Viserys had ordered the guards to keep Daemon there, and he had left.

Daemon glared at one of the Kingsguard, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “You have three seconds to let me go, or blood will be spilled.”

Harold Westerling was a good man, but at that moment, Daemon was contemplating cutting off his head. The man gave him an apologetic look, but did not move. “I can’t do that, the king gave his orders.”

“I do not give a fuck what the king said!” He moved closer to the man. “I want to see Rhaenyra now, I have a right to see her.”

The man opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Viserys walked in. Daemon frowned at how pale and tired his brother looked, but he did not care about Viserys at that moment. He wanted to see Rhaenyra and his child. He was about to demand to see her again when his brother waved a hand. “You can go and see them both.”

Daemon did not ask any questions; he ran all the way to the chambers where Rhaenyra had given birth. He found his niece sitting on the bed, her back resting on a mountain of pillows and a small bundle in her arms. She looked tired and happy, but he could also tell she had been crying.

“I am sorry.” He moved toward the bed slowly, not wanting to upset her or the babe. “My brother would not allow me to come in while you were giving birth, and left me under guard while he came to see you. I am glad you are both doing well.”

Rhaenyra nodded and gestured to the babe with her head. “Come and meet your daughter.”

His heart jumped in his chest as he approached the bed; he had not known she had given birth to a girl. He sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers carefully touching the gold blanket the babe was wrapped in, and pulled it down until a cloud of silver hair was uncovered. He had never felt more happiness than when he ran a finger over the babe’s rosy cheek. She was completely perfect, her pink lips made sucking motions as if she were feeding, and her skin was the softest he had ever felt.

He moved his fingers down her small arm and sucked in a breath when the babe’s tiny fingers wrapped around his index finger. In that moment, he fell completely in love. “She is so beautiful.”

Rhaenyra smiled, a look of overwhelming love etched on her face. “Yes, she is stunning. I can’t tell what color her eyes are yet, since she has decided not to open them yet, but I know they will be as stunning as the rest of her.”

Daemon was in complete agreement; he could not imagine his daughter being anything but perfection. They spent the next couple of hours simply contemplating the small child. The nursemaid came in and brought a crib, making sure Rhaenyra and the babe would have everything they needed.

Once they had been left alone, Daemon gave Rhaenyra a questioning look. “What did your father want? He did not say much when he returned from speaking to you.”

“He gave me a choice.” She laid their daughter on the bed, making sure she was not too close to the edge. “He said that if I wanted to be queen, I would have to give you and our daughter up and marry Laenor. If I choose you both, then we will all be exiled from Westeros for several years. But even if we are ever allowed to return, I will never be queen.”

Daemon wanted to go looking for his brother and punch him in the face. “Of course, you would never give up our daughter. What did you say to him?”

She shrugged, which did not fill him with confidence. “I reminded him of the many mistakes he has made and remarked how hypocritical he was being. I do not think he enjoyed my words, because he left before I could say anything else.”

“Do not worry, Rhaenyra.” He cupped her face and made sure she was looking at him. “It does not matter what my brother does; he can’t keep us apart if we do not wish it. We made sure to fix our mistake.”

Rhaenyra gave him a sad look and shook her head. “Did we?”

Her words left him cold, and he felt his heart stop. He was not sure he liked her words or the look on her face. He was hoping she would make the right choice.

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1 week later.

Daemon wrapped the red and gold blanket a bit tighter around his daughter before picking her up. She was content with lying in his arms, her large purple eyes watching him closely as he smiled down at her. He had always wanted a family of his own, but he had never imagined the overwhelming love he would feel for a tiny being who he had known for such a short time. He and Rhaenyra spent every moment with the small girl; they both adored her, and everyone could see that. Viserys was still in Dragonstone; he and Rhaenyra had spoken several times, and it had not been pleasant. Guards and servants had heard them both screaming at each other and things being thrown across the room; the latter one was his niece’s doing. Rhaenyra had refused to speak to her father on other occasions, and Daemon had been refused all access to the king. His brother had sent servants to inform him there was nothing for them to talk about, that the only one who needed to choose was Rhaenyra.

Daemon kissed his daughter’s forehead and smiled when she sighed. The doors opened, and his smile widened when Rhaenyra walked in. “We should name her, do you not think so?” Nothing could erase the smile from his face. “We can’t leave her without a name for too much longer.”

“I was thinking of naming her Visenya.” Rhaenyra ran a hand over the little girl’s head before kissing her cheek. “I always wanted a little sister so I could name her Visenya. While that was not possible, I now have a daughter to give the name to.”

“I think that is a great name. She will be a great warrior, just like her namesake.” He loved the name; his daughter would be named after one of the greatest warriors in House Targaryen. “Did you talk to your father again?”

“Yes, I did.” Daemon frowned at the tone in Rhaenyra’s voice, and his heart dropped when he saw the look on her face. He remained quiet, wanting to hear what she had to say. “I have come to a decision.”

He wanted to scream and shake her, he shook his head. The denial was out of his mouth before he could think of anything else to say. “You would not do that, you would never give up your child.”

“Daemon, I do not want to.” Her eyes filled with tears, and before that would have been enough to make him want to do everything to take her pain away, but now he did nothing. “I want to be able to raise her.”

“Then do that.” They had gone through so much, and he had been sure she would pick them. If not for him, then for Visenya. “She is our daughter; she needs her mother. I know you would never give up your child. You would not be that cruel.”

“I have to.” Tears rolled down her face, but it was nothing compared with the way his heart broke at her words. Rhaenyra gave him a pleading look. “You have to understand. I have given up so many things. I lost my mother, I watched my father marry a woman who hated me, and she has been trying to put her son on the throne since the moment he was born.” She took a step closer, but stopped when Daemon took a step back. “If I give up the crown, then everything I have gone through, everything Alicent has done to me, will be for nothing. I will be allowing someone who is not worth it to take the throne, and then our lives will be in danger.”

Daemon was furious; he could not remember ever being so angry, at least not with his niece. “Let me make sure I understand what you are saying. You want to give up your only child for a crown?”

The tears fell faster, but they did not touch him any longer. All he could see was the cruelty of her decision. “I do not want to, but I have no other choice.”

“There is always a choice.” He would have never imagined that he would be the one begging his niece to do the right thing. “You could choose your daughter, you could choose me.”

She shook her head and there was heartbreak written all over her face. “I can’t. I can’t be so selfish.”

“No, instead, you are giving up on the only person who truly needs you. You are no better than your father when he decided to cut your mother open.” Rhaenyra gasped and took a step back. Part of him felt bad for comparing the two things, but a larger part of him was so angry. He was angry at Rhaenyra for giving up on their daughter, and he wanted to hurt her like she had hurt him. “I hope your throne keeps you warm at night because I can assure you that Laenor will not.” He made sure Visenya was secured against his chest before walking to the door. He stopped before leaving the room and turned to Rhaenyra. “I hope you know Laenor will never be able to give you children, and if you take another man into your bed, then you will be known as a whore and your name will be dragged through the mud. If you allow yourself to have bastards and try to pass them as Laenor’s children, you will leave the door open for Otto and Alicent to take over the crown, and the people will turn against you.”

Those were the last words he said to her before he walked out and headed to the chamber of the painted table. He knew his brother was there; that was where he had been waiting to speak to Rhaenyra. He found the king sitting on a chair and glared at the man, hating him with all his soul.

He looked down at Visenya, who had fallen asleep, before looking back at his brother. “Give me the papers.”

Viserys was surprised, but moved the paper over. “I was sure you would put up more of a fight.”

“I do not need to. You and Rhaenyra will regret this, but it will be too late by then.” He scribbled his signature and threw the quill aside before glaring at his brother. “This will be the last time you see me, Viserys. From now on, we are no longer brothers. I could never claim someone so cruel as my family.”

He turned to leave, but his brother’s words stopped him. “You did this, you are the one who ruined Rhaenyra.”

Daemon smirked at his brother and shook his head. “You are the one who ruined our family. You allowed snakes to poison you against the people who love you, but that is not my problem any longer. From this day forward, you are on your own. I never want to see you again.”

He wanted nothing to do with Viserys or with Rhaenyra. He had been sure that even if Rhaenyra did not choose him, she would choose Visenya. The idea that Rhaenyra would give up their daughter had never crossed his mind. Now, he had a small child to care for and no home. It did not matter; Daemon would raise his daughter alone and would make sure she grew up happy and loved.  

                                               Visenya Targaryen (1 week old.)

3 years later.

Daemon stalked the halls of Driftmark, his glare making all the servants move quickly out of his way. He was trying not to allow panic to overtake him; it would do him no good to be angry at that time. He was not sure why he had accepted Rhaenys's invitation; his cousin had been writing and inviting him to Driftmark for the past few years, and he had always declined the invitations. He knew that Rhaenys felt guilty for what had taken place with Rhaenyra. Daemon did not care about Laenor and Rhaenyra; they had been married for three years now. Viserys had made sure Rhaenyra was married two moons after Visenya’s birth. While most people did not know what had truly happened, Rhaenys and Corlys were perfectly aware that Rhaenyra had given birth to a daughter and that Daemon was the father.

He had spent many years in Essos since leaving Dragonstone with his daughter. He had given in to Rhaenys’s pleading because he wanted his daughter to know at least a bit of her country. Rhaenys had been very accommodating, and she seemed to adore Visenya, but then, his daughter was hard not to love.

One of the Driftmark guards came across him and gave a deep bow when Daemon came to a stop beside him. “Have you seen my daughter?”

The man swallowed at the tone in Daemon’s voice and looked a bit nervous. “She was playing by the water when I last saw her. There were two guards with her.”

Daemon did not say anything else, simply continued to walk, wanting to get to his daughter and make sure she was well. Everyone knew the love he bore for his daughter, and Rhaenys had offered to provide two guards to protect the small girl. Daemon had accepted, but he was not comfortable leaving his daughter unprotected. Visenya was the most precious thing in his world, and he made sure she had everything she wanted.

He found the little girl playing by the shoreline, trying to build a castle out of sand. The two guards who had been assigned to her were a few steps away, keeping a watchful eye over her.

“Visenya, what are you doing, little dragon?”

“Kepa!” His daughter’s face lit up the moment she saw him, and she ran up to him. He did not hesitate to pick her up when she threw herself at him, not caring that her hands were covered in sand. “You are here.”

“Of course I am.” He kissed the side of her head before touching one of her braids. “What are you doing?”

Visenya shrugged before signaling for him to pull her down. “Waiting.”

“Waiting?” He gave her an amused look. “Waiting for what?”

His daughter went back to her castle, not seeming too interested in him. “Dragon.”

He was not sure what she meant. His daughter was a lot like him; she loved dragons. She begged him to take her to Caraxes at every opportunity, and she was happiest when she was on dragon back. One of the things Daemon regretted was that he had not been able to put a dragon egg in his daughter’s crib, but it did not matter; he would make sure she would be allowed to claim a dragon one day.

“I thought you would be gone by now.” He turned at the sound of the voice and raised an eyebrow at Laena’s words. The woman gave him an amused smile. “My father is not pleased. You killed the man he had picked for me in a few minutes. My mother has been trying to talk him down for the past couple of hours. I was sure he would hang you or drown you.”

Daemon shrugged. “He could try, but I do not think it will go over well for him.”

Laena nodded, looking at Visenya, who was still playing with her sand castle happily. The little girl had convinced one of the guards to play with her, and the man was sitting on the sand, helping her build an even bigger castle. “I am sorry about what happened. He should have never touched your daughter.”

“I made sure he would know that before I cut off his head.” Laena looked between him and Visenya, a bit confused. “Is there something you wish to know?”

“He slapped her, and she did not cry. You beat the man before cutting off his head, and she did not even blink.”

Daemon stared at his daughter for a moment, taking her in, from her silver hair to her purple eyes and small stature. “She has always been different. Visenya was never someone who cried much, only when she needed something. While I try not to act violently in front of her, she was exposed to a few instances in Essos, but she never appeared bothered by it.” He had wondered if there was something wrong with her, but Visenya was quick to laugh and sweet to those he loved. “My daughter is aware I will do whatever is necessary to protect her. I have made sure she will never doubt that.”

Laena nodded, seeming to understand what he was trying to explain. He should apologize for killing her betrothed, but he was aware that the woman had never wanted to marry the fool, and she was probably thankful that Daemon had killed him. Corlys was a fool to have betrothed his daughter to such a man and to keep the betrothal even after the man lost most of his fortune. But then, the Sealord had been more worried about getting his blood on the throne, which he had secured when he married Laenor to Rhaenyra.

He heard Laena clear her throat when a shadow covered them all before a loud roar was heard. The guards were on their feet with the swords out in seconds, but that did not matter. A huge black dragon landed on the beach, a few feet away from them. His landing was so harsh that the ground shook. His green eyes were sinister, and smoke curled from his nostrils. The beast did not appear happy as he turned his large head towards the guards who were about to piss themselves.

Daemon was about to run to Visenya when his daughter clapped happily before running to the dragon and wrapping her arms around one of his claws, since it was the only thing small enough for her to hug. He was even more shocked when the large beast seemed to purr at the little girl’s touch.

“Look, Kepa!” Visenya gave him a happy look before pointing to the dragon. “Dragon!”

This was not what he had been expecting. He took a step forward, but stopped when the beast turned to him with a growl, warning of what would happen if he moved too close. “Visenya, can you please come here?”

His daughter pouted at the idea of being separated from the dragon, but still did as Daemon asked. He picked up his daughter. “Is this the dragon you were waiting for?”

The little girl nodded. “Yes!”

He should have known, and he could not lie and say he was not proud. His daughter had claimed the fiercest dragon in all Westeros. Laena gave them both a bewildered look.

“I am sorry, are you telling me that your three name day old daughter just claimed the Cannibal?”

Daemon let out a snort, making Visenya giggle, before answering the woman. “I think the claiming was mutual.”

He should not be surprised, after all, Rhaenyra was the youngest dragon rider in their family. His daughter was even better, and he could not be prouder.  

                                                  Visenya Targaryen (3 years old.)

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2 weeks later.

Daemon looked in the mirror and fixed his tunic, making sure everything looked the way it was supposed to. It was his wedding day, something he never thought he would say after what happened with Rhaenyra, but here he was, about to marry Laena Velaryon. Corlys had been placated once Daemon offered to marry his daughter. He knew that people would talk since he had killed her betrothed, and what they were saying made him laugh. He snorted at the foolish tale people had come up with. Apparently, they believed that he had been so taken in by Laena’s beauty that he had challenged her betrothed to a duel and killed him to be able to marry her. The truth was, he did not care what people thought, the story served his purpose.

He had never tried to marry anyone; happy to live with Visenya alone. He knew that a stepmother could be a blessing or a curse. After all, Alicent and Rhaenyra had a good relationship for the first year after the woman married Viserys, then Alicent had given the king a son and the relationship had sour. The queen hated Rhaenyra and had done everything possible to get Viserys to name her son heir. Daemon did not want to bring another woman, one who would feel like Visenya was taking something from them, because to Daemon, there was no one more important than his daughter.

Laena was a good woman, and she treated Visenya fairly; his daughter needed a mother. Laena was very much aware that Daemon was not in love with her, and she still accepted his proposal. Daemon had not promised her love, but told her he would treat her kindly and with respect as his wife. He had also made it clear to Laena that they would not be staying in Westeros if she agreed to marry him. The day after the wedding, they would be returning to the Free Cities, something that Laena agreed to. Daemon felt bad; he knew that Laena had feelings for him, feelings he was not able to return and was not sure he ever would be able to.

“Kepa.” One of the maids bowed once his daughter walked in before closing the door and leaving them alone. “Ready.”

He could not help the smile that appeared on his face the moment he saw Visenya. She had been dressed in a red gown, embroidered with white flowers and vines. The bodice of the gown had been adorned with pearls. Visenya’s silver curls had been partially put up, and a tiara made of pearls and rubies adorned her head. She looked every inch a princess.

“You look beautiful, little dragon.” His daughter barely spoke a word in the common tongue; Daemon had always spoken to her in Valyrian, so that was the language she had grown up speaking. “I love your gown.”

Visenya giggled, her innocent laugh bringing joy to his heart. “Thank you, you bought it.”

“I did?” His voice was filled with surprise, which just made his daughter giggle once more. “Well, I have very good taste. I will buy you more when we return home.”

Visenya did not say anything, simply threw herself at him and wrapped her little arms around his neck. His daughter’s hugs always made everything feel better; it did not matter how awful of a day he was having, his mood always improved as soon as he saw her. He could not imagine his life without her.

The familiar words, the ones that he made sure to repeat at least once a day, left his mouth as he hugged her back and kissed the side of her head. “I love you, Visenya, more than anything.”

He felt her little hands patting his back as her little voice answered. “I love you, Kepa.”

He wished things could have been different, that his daughter had been able to grow up with her mother, but that was not possible. Daemon did everything possible to make sure Visenya did not feel Rhaenyra’s absence, but he did not lie to himself. While his daughter had never asked about her mother, he knew that she would one day. She would question where her mother was, and he was not sure what to tell her when the day came. Hopefully, Laena would be able to help him with that.  

                                                            Visenya Targaryen 

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5 days later.

Aemond rolled his eyes as his brother swung his sword and almost stabbed himself. He was not sure why his mother insisted that his brother be trained. Aegon spent more time drinking than anything else. His brother was a fool who could never do anything right, which just made Aemond even angrier that he had a dragon. Aegon found every opportunity to make fun of him and tell him how lacking he was, which was the reason why Aemond took every opportunity to beat him in the tilt yard.

“I do not understand why I need to learn how to use a sword.” His brother’s whiny voice made Aemond want to hit him over the head with the training sword. “That is what guards are for, and if I ever need to go to war, that is what I have a dragon for.”

Aemond rolled his eyes again before answering the drunk boy. “Prince Aemon was a great warrior and had a dragon. He was killed while his dragon stood a few feet away.”

Aegon gave him an annoyed look, but Aemond simply shrugged before handing the sword to one of the guards and walking away. He did not have the patience to deal with his brother, and he preferred not to come to blows with him. It was not that he could not win; every time they fought, Aemond beat his brother easily, but then his mother would have Criston Cole beat him for being disobedient.

He made his way to his father’s chambers, the king wanted them all to have the midday meal together. His mother, Helaena, Rhaenyra, Laenor, and the king were already present. Helaena seemed lost in her own head as people around her talked about all kinds of things. Rhaenyra was the only other one at the table who was quiet; she played with one of her rings while her eyes had a far away look. His older sister was always sad and gloomy; he did not remember seeing her smile since she returned from Dragonstone years before. He was not sure why; she was heir to the throne, their father’s favorite, and would be queen one day. Rhaenyra had everything, but was still sad; it was a waste.

“Aemond.” His mother’s voice took his attention from Rhaenyra. “Where is your brother?”

He shrugged, hoping Aegon had tripped and fallen down a flight of stairs. “I am not sure, he was behind me.”

The last word had barely left his mouth when his brother walked in. Once Aegon was sitting their mother signaled for the food to be served. His father took a sip of his wine before giving Laenor a smile. “I have not heard anything from your father. Is he still entertaining your sister’s betrothed?”

“No,” Laenor frowned at the king. “I thought you had heard? My sister’s previous betrothed was killed.”

His father gave the younger man a wide-eyed look. “What? How can that be? What happened?”

“Daemon killed him.” Rhaenyra paused with the fork halfway to her mouth as the conversation seemed to gain her interest. “My mother invited Daemon to visit Driftmark. He came with his daughter. According to what people are saying, the prince was so taken with my sister that he killed her betrothed, and they wed three days ago.”

Rhaenyra had gone pale, and her hands shook as the fork fell from her hands. Their father gave her a concerned look before looking back at Laenor. “Daemon married your sister?”

The other man nodded. “Yes, after killing her betrothed, he asked my father for her hand in marriage, and my father agreed. They married at Driftmark, with my parents and Daemon’s daughter present.”

Aemond noticed that Rhaenyra seemed to have lost her breath, and after a moment, his sister stood up in such a hurry that the chair fell backwards. His sister barely looked at them as she ran out of the room. “Excuse me, I am not feeling well. I will retire to my chambers.”

The king and Laenor appeared concerned, but his mother looked pleased. “I hope this means the princess is with child and will bless us with a prince or princess soon.”

Aemond did not miss the way his father paled at the queen’s words. The rest of the meal was quiet; no one spoke. Once they were done, they each took their leave. Aemond made sure to accompany Helaena so Aegon would not bother her.

They were near his sister’s chambers when she spoke. “I feel sorry for Rhaenyra; she is in so much pain.”

Aemond let out a snort. “Why would you feel sorry for her? She is father’s favorite and can do no wrong according to him. She is heir to the throne, even while father has two legitimate male sons and she has a dragon. She just enjoys having all the attention.”

“You do not know what you speak of.” Helaena’s eyes were sad. “Rhaenyra gave up something very important to be able to sit on that throne.”

Aemond shrugged, not sure why that was important. “I am sure it was worth it. Who would not give anything to be able to sit on the iron throne, to have all that power?”

“She does not think it was worth it, she regrets it, and has started to hate that chair and herself. She will hate herself a little bit more as time passes, until there is very little left.”

Helaena spoke cryptically, which always confused him and made him a bit apprehensive when around her. His sister seemed to know more than she said, and always seemed to look into one’s soul when staring at them. Aemond loved his sister, but she was a bit strange and made him uncomfortable. She would know things that she should not be able to and no one could say why. He was sure Rhaenyra was not speaking to their sister and telling her about the reason why she was so sad all the time. And his mother did not speak to him or Helaena about those things; the queen preferred to plot with Otto.

Helaena opened the doors to her chambers, but Aemond stopped her before she could close them. He did not like it and hated himself for asking, but he was curious. “What did Rhaenyra have to give up to sit on the iron throne?”

Helaena’s eyes were filled with so much pain that Aemond took a step back. “Her heart.”

His sister closed the doors before Aemond could ask her to elaborate. He was more confused than before. Helaena’s words made no sense, and he was not sure what she was supposed to know. It made no sense that Rhaenyra had given up her heart. What did that even mean?

                                                    Aemond Targaryen (7 years old.)

5 years later.

“Is there a reason why your tutor is pulling his hair and cur…” Her father’s words came to a halt as he stopped and looked at her from head to toe. She saw his confusion before he even had a chance to ask. “Visenya, why are you covered in mud?”

She continued to write like nothing was happening. “Would you believe that a monster came in and threw mud at me?”

Her father pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “No.”

“Very well,” She put the quill down and turned to face her father. “My tutor said I could take a few minutes to clear my thoughts, and I started a mud war, which I won.”

Her father blinked. “You were supposed to take a few minutes to clear your thoughts, and you started a mud war? How does that help clear your thoughts?”

“Hey! He did not say how I should clear my thoughts. It is not my fault that he was not clearer with his instructions.”

Another man might have been upset, yelled, or even grounded her. Her father did none of those things; instead, he chuckled and shook his head. “I need you to be good,

Visenya. This is your third tutor in the past year. We can’t afford to keep losing them.”

Visenya looked at the open book in front of her before looking back at her father and switching to Valyrian, the language she was most comfortable in. “Why do I even need to learn these things? We do not live in Westeros, why does it matter if I know their major houses and their words?”

Her father took the empty seat beside hers and gave her a gentle smile. “Because you are a princess, it is important for you to know these things. Knowledge is power.”

She raised an eyebrow. “But I am not a princess, I am a bastard.”

Her father tensed, and his voice was not friendly. “Where did you hear that?”

“It is true, is it not? Is that not the reason why my mother gave me to you, because I am a bastard and my existence would tarnish her reputation?”

“Visenya, I do not like it when you speak about yourself that way.” He put a finger under her chin and raised her head so she was looking at him. “Who has told you these things?”

“No one has told me anything, directly, but I hear things.”

Her father narrowed his eyes. “Have you been hiding and listening to people’s conversations again?”

She smirked. “Well, you do say knowledge is power. How am I supposed to obtain this power if I have no knowledge?”

Her father chuckled and switched back to the common tongue. “You need to stop throwing my words back at me. I do not like it.”

“Very well.” She closed the book her tutor had been making her read and bit her bottom lip. “Laena is not feeling well.”

Her father sighed before pulling out a handkerchief and started wiping the mud off her face. “It is the child in her belly that makes her feel ill and tired. She just needs to rest some more and eat some delicious food.”

Visenya loved Laena; the woman had always been good to her. Laena had been sad for many years, since the first time she had gotten with child. Laena had a miscarriage about four moons into her pregnancy. Her stepmother had spent many days locked in her chambers, crying, which made her sad. Her father had been out of his mind, trying to figure out a way to make his wife feel better. He had even sent for Rhaenys, the woman had visited and stayed about two moons with them, and helped Laena feel better.

A few moons ago, her stepmother had announced she was with child again. Laena had been almost paranoid and taking everything very carefully, wanting to make sure she was able to carry her child to term. Now her belly was huge, and she would be giving birth any day. Many of her father’s friends had asked her if she was jealous of her father having another child. Visenya had thought about it a lot, and she was looking forward to having a little brother or sister. She got lonely sometimes, but she refused to tell that to her father, she did not want to make him sad. Her father did everything for her, to ensure her happiness and well-being; she did not want to make him feel bad. She and her father only had each other, so she was glad about the new babe.  

                                                       Visenya Targaryen (8 years old.)

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1 week later

Daemon sat in his chambers and ran a hand over his head. He was tired, he felt it down to his bones, and all he wanted was to sleep, but his mind refused to shut down. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Laena as Vhagar set her on fire. She had been burned so thoroughly that barely anything had been left behind for her family to bury. Daemon had not been in love with Laena, but he had loved her. She had been his wife and friend for five years; they had built a life together and had been happy for the most part.

He had seen how much Laena had wanted a child; in a way, she had been a little jealous of Visenya, but she had never treated his daughter with anything but kindness. The first time Laena had gotten with child, it was the happiest Daemon had seen her since their wedding. He knew moving away from her parents had not been easy for her. Laena had missed Westeros and, more especially, Driftmark. Daemon had never denied her when she wanted to visit her family, even if he refused to go with her. Rhaenys had also been to visit them several times and had spent a few moons with them when Laena miscarried last time. For the past year, Laena had been trying to convince him to return to Westeros. She had told him several times that she was sure that if he apologized, Viserys would take him back. They had several fights about it, and Daemon had told her several times that he had no interest in returning to Westeros and that he would die before apologizing to Viserys. It had not gone over well, and for the past fortnight, they had barely spoken.

“Papa?” He looked up to see Visenya standing at the doorway. She was wearing a pink nightgown, and her silver hair was tumbling down her shoulders. Her face was streaked with tears, and she looked incredibly sad. “Can I stay with you?”

“Of course, my love.” He watched as she hurried to him and jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. The heaviness that had been weighing him down lifted almost immediately as he hugged her back. Visenya had always been able to make him feel better. He lay her down beside him and kissed her forehead. “How are you doing, little dragon?”

She sniffled and gave him a sad look. “Why did Laena do that? Why would she order her dragon to kill her?”

This was hard to explain, and he did not want to cause Visenya any more pain. “Laena was having a hard time trying to bring our child into the world. There was a point when she was sure she was out of options, and she decided that she wanted to die as a dragon rider.”

Visenya lay her head against his chest. “Will she be going back to Driftmark?”

“Yes, I have already written to Rhaenys and Corlys. They will come and accompany her body home and bury her in the tradition of their house.”

“Are we going to be returning with them?”

Daemon had been running over Visenya’s hair and paused at her words. He made sure there was no emotion in his voice. “Is that something you want?”

Visenya was quiet for a while, seeming to think about it before speaking again. “No, I do not like Westeros. People over there are strange.”

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Then we will stay here, this is our home.”

Visenya nodded, and her voice was a bit more subdued when she spoke again. “Maybe we can do something here to honor Laena. That way, we can celebrate the time she spent with us.”

“That sounds like a great idea. I will speak to Rhaenys and Corlys when they arrive. I am sure they will love your idea and will want to be a part of it.”

Daemon wished he had been able to love Laena the way she deserved to be loved. She had been a good woman and had treated him and Visenya with kindness. Even while things had not been great at the end, he still did not want her dead. He was also mourning the loss of his child. He had been looking forward to being a father for the second time. He was just glad that he had Visenya; he did not know what he would do if she were not there.

                                                       Visenya Targaryen 

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3 weeks later.

Aemond stood beside his mother, with Helaena on his other side, while Aegon stood between their mother and father. The mood was gloomy, and the weather seemed to reflect that. Everyone was quiet as Laena’s casket was thrown into the ocean, and Rhaenys seemed to have to stop herself from jumping in behind her daughter. Another one who looked heartbroken was Laenor; the man looked like he had aged a decade in the past few days. Laenor had not stopped crying since news arrived from Pentos that Laena had died. It had not been until a fortnight later that they had discovered that there had been complications with Laena’s delivery, and she had decided to die like a dragon rider instead of the birthing bed.

Laenor had wanted to go with Corlys and Rhaenys to Pentos to retrieve his sister’s body, but both his parents had told him that it would not be a good idea. Once Corlys and Rhaenys had returned, the king had insisted they all had to be present for the woman’s funeral. Aemond did not see the reason for him to be there; he had barely known the woman and had only seen her a few times.

Once the burial ceremony was over with everyone mingled while Rhaenys tried to keep her emotions in check. Aemond was standing near the wall facing the ocean when he saw his mother approaching Rhaenys. He knew that the conversation would not be going well, while the older Targaryen princess had always been polite, everyone knew that the woman did not like his mother.

“I am sorry for your loss, princess.” While his mother’s voice would sound apologetic to anyone else, Aemond could hear the almost mocking undertone. “I can’t believe Daemon did not even bother to come to the funeral. I wish I could say I was surprised, but the prince has always been selfish.”

Rhaenys’s eyes were as cold as a northern winter when she turned to face his mother. “Daemon did everything to ensure Laena’s remains would make it home as soon as possible.”

His mother gave the older woman a placating smile. “Yes, but he was her husband for years, and he took her away from you. He should be here; it would be the decent thing to do.”

Aemond noticed Rhaenyra had moved closer to the other two women, but stopped when Rhaenys spoke. “Daemon and Visenya loved my daughter, and they did everything possible to give her a good send-off. Visenya even organized a ceremony to honor Laena; she and Daemon were present, and it was beautiful.”

His mother nodded and patted Rhaenys’s arm. “It is good to know his bastard had a good relationship with your daughter, since Laena was unable to give him any legitimate ones.”

Aemond was sure that either Rhaenyra or Rhaenys was going to hit his mother, but the older woman simply moved closer to the queen and lowered her voice. “I do not care about your opinion, to be honest, most people do not care for it. The only reason you are queen is that your father sold you for a crown. If I ever wish to know your opinion, I will ask, but since I do not care for it, remember your place.”

His mother had become completely still as Rhaenys walked away. Rhaenyra still remained in the same position as the queen stalked away with an angry look on her face.

Aemond had done a bit more snooping since years before when Helaena had told him that Rhaenyra had given up her heart to keep the throne. It was amazing the way people talked about things without noticing he was in the room.

Aemond had learned that Rhaenyra and Daemon had a daughter, who had been born in Dragonstone. He did not remember much of that time since he had only been four at the time, but he seemed to remember that Rhaenyra had left Kings Landing and had not returned until almost a year later. His sister had not been the same since her return, and he now understood why after learning that she had given up her daughter. Daemon had taken the little girl and gone to the free cities. He had only been back once for a few days, and that was when he married Laena.

As far as Aemond knew, they had never returned, and Rhaenyra had not seen her daughter since the girl was a small babe. She must be eight by now, but no one spoke about her. He was not sure how his mother found out, but it would not surprise him if his father had told her. Aemond was loyal to his mother, but he could not believe how foolish his father was. The man knew of the rivalry between his wife and daughter; everyone was aware of how much the queen hated the princess, and still, his father would tell the queen everything about Rhaenyra. That was one of the reasons why every time Rhaenyra tried to do anything, his mother was always there to make sure she failed.

Aemond wished he could say he cared about the rivalry between his mother and sister, or even the death of the woman they were there for, but the truth was, he did not. The only reason he had not put up more of a fight was that he knew that Vhagar would be in Driftmark. He had heard the dragon roar a few times already; he just needed to find her. He was going to wait until nighttime, not wanting to have anyone intervene.

He watched as people continued to eat and drink, while his brother drank himself silly, until their grandsire took him away. His father was the next one to retire, and Aemond watched as his mother left with Criston Cole. He had been noticing both of them spending more time together, but since that meant it was less time with them, he did not care much about it.

Once night had fallen and he left quickly, grateful that everyone had decided to go to bed early. He ran out of the castle, using the caves underneath to make his way outside without being seen. He ran, making sure that the guards would not be able to see him. He looked around as he moved over the sand, trying to find Vhagar. He did not understand why finding the dragon was so hard; she was massive and hard to hide. He continued to walk farther away from the castle for a few more minutes before he noticed the giant shape a few feet away from him.

He ran to the dragon and came to a stop near her head. Vhagar was breathing deeply, but after a few seconds, she seemed to realize he was there, if the exhale she let out was anything to go by. A rumble left the dragon’s chest as she opened an eye, and if Aemond did not know any better, he could have sworn that the dragon glared at him. Vhagar breathed deeply before she snarled and lifted her head a little bit.

Aemond took deep breaths as the snarl became a deep growl and then another snarl. His voice was a little shaky when he spoke. “Dohaeras!”

The dragon did not want to listen to him, and her mouth opened; he could see the fire in the back of her throat. Great, after all the years where all he wanted was to have a dragon, he was now going to be burned to a crisp by the largest dragon in the world. At least it would be a mighty dragon who killed him.

“Dohaeras, Vhagar! Lykiri!” He still had to try; he had already come this far. “Lykiri!”

Vhagar seemed to quiet, and the fire in her mouth died down. The dragon inhaled and closed her mouth. After a moment, something that sounded a lot like a purr left her throat. Aemond’s voice was a bit calmer. “Lykiri.”

Vhagar lay down her head, and Aemond took his chance. He was careful as he climbed on the dragon and held on to the mount horns. “Soves!”

The dragon did nothing except grunt, and Aemond became a little annoyed. “Dohaeras, Vhagar! Soves!”

He should have been better prepared because in the next moment, the dragon had launched herself into the air, and Aemond ended up dangling. The only thing that kept him on the dragon was the white knuckle hold he had on the mount horns. “AH!”

Vhagar roared and flapped her wings even harder. Daemon tried to right himself, but he had completely forgotten to secure himself using the chains. Vhagar did not seem to be concerned that he was about to fall to his death as she continued to fly even faster and higher. It took him a bit until he was able to right himself and get a hold of the reins. Once he was secured, he was able to enjoy his first flight and could not help the sounds of joy he made. He was someone to be feared now; he had the largest dragon in the world under his command. He would never be hit again by Criston Cole, and his mother would have to show him respect and love.

He did not fly for too long, not wanting his parents to send people looking for him. He had been able to make it back to the castle without being noticed when one of the guards stepped in front of him. “My prince, you need to come with me.”

Aemond could tell this was one of the Driftmark guards, but he did not want to create a scene and make things worse. They made their way to the great hall, where Princess Rhaenys was waiting for him. His mother and father were also present.

His mother ran up to him and cupped his face. “Where have you been? I have been looking for you.”

He was unable to say anything as Rhaenys stepped forward, and the look on her face was not friendly. “You claimed Vhagar, my daughter’s dragon.”

He did not want to be mean, but he was not going to apologize for doing what everyone else in his family had done. “Your daughter is dead. Vhagar has a new rider now.”

“Aemond!” His father moved closer and gave him a warning look. “Why did you claim Vhagar?”

He was aware that his father had only had a dragon for a few moons, but the man should at least remember what it was like. “Why would I not claim her? She was a dragon without a rider, and I am a Targaryen. It is my right to have a dragon; if she had not accepted me, I would have left her alone.”

Rhaenys’s expression was filled with pain, which made him feel a bit bad. “My daughter has just died, and you took advantage of her burial to claim her dragon.”

“Would it have made a difference if I had waited a sennight, a moon, maybe a year? It does not matter how long I waited; you would still be hurt that I claimed your daughter’s dragon.” He could understand the woman’s pain, but that did not mean he was going to back off. While the timing was not the best, he had not done anything wrong. “You should understand. You claimed my grandmother’s dragon, my uncle Daemon claimed your father’s dragon, and Vhagar belongs more to me than anyone else since she belonged to my grandsire first.”

Part of him felt bad that he had only waited a few hours after Laena had been buried to claim her dragon, but Rhaenys was acting like her daughter had died that day. Laena had been dead for three weeks, and nothing he or anyone said would have made the woman feel better. She would always be upset that he had claimed Vhagar, even if he had waited a year to do it. Aemond had known this was his chance; he had refused to wait. He had spent all his life being mocked by Aegon for not having a dragon; no one had cared about him, and no one had been willing to help him claim a dragon. He had seen his chance and he had taken it; he would not apologize for it. If he could not have the love of the people he cared about, then he would have their fear.  

                                                Aemond Targaryen (12 years old.)

2 years later.

Visenya stood at the shoreline, her dragon beside her, and she flinched as the ship continued to sink. This was bad; her father would be furious, and she was not sure how she was supposed to explain it.

“Look at what you did. Why would you fly so close to the ship?” She turned to Aegarax and gave him an annoyed look. Her dragon gave her an offended look, and the feeling that he sent through their connection was that she had been the one who told him to fly lower. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I said to fly closer to the water, not the ship. Why would I ever tell you to fly closer to the ships?”

Aegarax shook his large head and growled, letting her know that this was her fault and she should be clearer with her instructions. “I was very clear with my instructions, but you just never listen.”

The massive dragon snapped his deadly teeth at her, letting her know that next time she could fly all on her own because he would not allow her to fly on him until she apologized. Visenya shook her head. “I will not be apologizing; you need to apologize. Do you have any idea how upset my father will be? He will probably ground me until I am of age.”

Aegarax flapped his wings before taking flight and growling at her one last time, letting her know that if she felt that way, then he would be leaving and would only return once she begged. Visenya stumped her foot. “Then you will be gone forever because I will never beg.”

She turned her back on the flying beast and crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the two guards who stood there with a bewildered look on their faces. Her guards never understood her relationship with her dragon, but that did not matter; only a dragon rider could truly comprehend the bond between a rider and a dragon.

“Visenya!” Her father walked down the beach, making his way towards her. “What are you doing? Why are you fighting with your dragon?”

She played with the end of one of her braids and gave her father a guilty look. “Before you say anything, you have to know it was not my fault. I told Aegarax to fly closer to the water, and the large lizard understood that he should fly closer to the ships.”

Her father frowned before turning to look at the water where one of his ships was completely destroyed and sinking quickly. He turned to look back at her, and she cleared her throat. “Was that ship important?”

Her father appeared to be trying very hard not to laugh as he kneeled in front of her. “Well, it was one of my merchant chips, but luckily all the merchandise had been unloaded.”

She sighed and gave him an apologetic look. “I am sorry, I should never have been playing so close to your ships.”

“All is well; it is not anything that I can’t replace.” He kissed the top of her head before standing up and taking one of her hands in his. “Now, is that why you were fighting with Aegarax?”

“Yes, he was upset that I blamed him.” She walked beside her father, her hand tucked in his, and the guards trailing behind them. “But who was I supposed to blame? I am not big enough to destroy it myself.”

Her father chuckled. “I think it was both your faults. I wish you and Aegarax would not fight so much.”

She shrugged. “They are just little fights, then we make up and go on adventures together.”

“Yes, but not before he burns things to the ground. Last time you both got into a fight, he burnt down an island.”

Visenya rolled her eyes. “It was a small island and there was no one on it.”

Her father started leading her to the palace. “What is going to happen now?”

“I am not sure, I might need a new dragon.” Her father looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. Visenya threw her hands up and gave him an exasperated look. “What? He said he would not return until I begged him to and that I needed to apologize. We both know that is never going to happen.”

Her father ruffled her hair. “He will return soon. I just wish that sometimes you were not so much like me.”

She gave him a questioning look. “Why not? I can’t think of anyone better than you.”

Her father’s smile was brighter than the sun, and before she knew it, he was picking her up and swinging her up in the air, making her squeal with happiness. While Visenya had turned ten not too long before, she was a bit short for her age. She had gotten several things from her father; his height had not been one of those things. It did not matter what other people said; she loved her father more than anyone else in the world. He was her only family.

She wrapped her arms around his neck with a happy smile. “We should go sailing. I think it will be fun.”

“I would love to, little dragon, but I can’t. I have an important meeting that I can’t miss.” He kissed her cheek when she pouted before rubbing her back. “But, I will have the guards prepare the ship and take you sailing.”

Visenya clapped happily, enjoying that she would be able to have some fun. “Yes, please.”

“Good,” He put her down. “But you should take a bath and change, you stink of dragon.”

Visenya took off running towards her chambers, yelling as she went. “You say that like it is a bad thing.”

All she heard as she ran into the castle was her father’s laughter. She loved living in Pentos, being able to spend time with her father and her dragon. Here, she was not treated as a bastard, and people did not see her as a stain. Here, she was important, and what mattered most was that she was loved above all else. She could not ask for more.

                                                  Visenya Targaryen (10 years old.)

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Daemon had never thought he would feel at home anywhere else but Westeros. That was the home his family had built with fire, blood, and tears. It was something he had been taught to be proud of since he was a small child. His parents had always told him to be proud of his heritage and of everything that his family had built, which is why it had hurt so much every time his brother had exiled him. Viserys had always known what Westeros had meant to him, to be close to Dragonstone and everything else their ancestors had built. Things were different now.

He liked Pentos and enjoyed the home he had made there for himself and his daughter. Daemon always had a good relationship with the prince of Pentos, Reggio Haratis. The man saw him as a valuable asset and a potential ally. The man liked knowing he had two dragons who would protect the city if needed. That was one of the reasons why he had given Daemon a palace right by the ocean. Daemon did not need the man; he had more than enough gold to live a very comfortable life, but he was not stupid enough to reject the prince’s generosity. Daemon had created a very successful shipping lane, which allowed him to move goods between Westeros and all the free cities. He had been able to make a lot of gold since everyone wanted to use his ships to transport their goods. The Triarchy knew better than to mess with his ships, since the last time they had tried, Daemon had burnt all their ships and their men.

The part he liked the most about living in Pentos was how happy his daughter was. Visenya was treated like a princess here; they did not see her any differently, due to the supposed misfortune of her birth. He knew that his brother would never tell the truth, and he would not allow anyone to treat his daughter as less. Visenya loved Pentos, they had tour the city several times, including the red temple. His daughter loved watching the red priests sing and light their night fires.

“My prince.” One of his guards bowed. “The prince of Pentos is here.”

“Have him come in.” He did not stand when the man came in, but simply gave him a nod. “Welcome.”

“Thank you,” The man sat in the chair Daemon gestured to. “I am glad to see you so well.” The prince looked around before looking back at him. “Where is that daughter of yours? She always seems to be your shadow any time I come by.”

“She is sailing, she got into another fight with her dragon and needed a bit of fun.”

Reggio had met Visenya several times and was very fond of her. The man found Daemon’s daughter very amusing. “How is her training going? Do you still want to make her into a warrior?”

He could not help the pride in his voice. “I do not have to do anything; she is great with a sword, much better than I was at her age.”

Reggio laughed. “I bet, she is just like you.”

Daemon gave in to his curiosity. “How was your trip to Westeros? I still can’t believe you decided to go there.”

The man shrugged. “Lord Corlys was very interested in hosting me. He introduced me to his son and his wife, your niece, I believe.”

Daemon tensed, but made sure not to allow his face to show any emotion. “Yes, Laenor is married to Rhaenyra, my eldest niece and heir to the throne.”

He did not like the suspicious look Reggio was giving him. “It is very amusing. When I saw your niece, it was like seeing an older version of your daughter. They look almost identical.”

Daemon had to remind himself several times that punching the prince would not be a good thing. He leaned back on his chair and refused to show the other man how affected he was by his words. “We Targaryens look all alike.”

The man let out a snort. “Yes, but this was different. I could swear I was looking at Visenya’s mother.”

Daemon did not say anything, simply stared at the other man. He was not sure what Reggio wanted, but the man was not stupid. “If you have something to say, then come out and say it.”

“I am not threatening you.” The man gave him a placating look that did nothing to make him feel better. “I am just saying that after spending some time in Westeros, I can understand why you chose to come to Pentos with your daughter.”

“What is it that you think you understand?”

“I am not saying I am right, but I saw the way bastards are treated in Westeros, and their mothers are treated even worse, especially if they are noble ladies. I can’t imagine what would happen if it were to be discovered that the heir to the throne had a child out of wedlock.”

Daemon’s hand tightened on the arm of the chair. “Is there a threat somewhere in there?”

The man shook his head quickly. “Of course not. I would never threaten you or break our alliance.” He knew that part was true. “All I wanted to say is that I know that Visenya would not have been treated fairly had you both stayed in Westeros. You have been here since your daughter was a few days old.”

“Yes, and I appreciate you helping me.”

The man’s smile was more sincere that time around. “I will never forget the first day you arrived, with this little girl, wrapped in so many blankets you could not even see her. But I have never seen you look at anyone with so much love.”

“My daughter is the most important thing to me, and I will do whatever I need to make sure she grows up safe and happy.”

“I am aware.”

Daemon nodded, glad they understood each other, before sighing. “Well, what was so important you needed to see me?”

“I have something for you.” The man pulled out a piece of paper from his tunic and handed it to him. “This is for you. Princess Rhaenyra gave it to me and made me promise that I would deliver it directly to you.”

He looked down at the piece of paper and resisted the urge to rip it into pieces. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” The man stood up and moved to the door before stepping and turning to look at him. “I know this is not my place, and right now you might not want to hear it, but I have never seen someone look so sad and heartbroken. I remember once, many years ago, before you had your daughter, you were telling me about Rhaenyra. You keep talking about the spark in her eyes, but when I looked at her, I could not see anything except pain. I think that what she gave up for her inheritance completely broke her.”

Daemon had nothing to say and simply watched the other man go. He had no wish to defend Rhaenyra’s choices; she had picked what was important to her, and unfortunately, it had not been their daughter. He stood up and moved to the fireplace. He looked at the letter in his hand and moved to throw it on the fire, stopping at the last moment. He was not ready to read it just then, but maybe one day he would bring himself to.

“Prince Daemon!” He was so startled by the guard’s voice that he almost dropped the letter. He turned to the man, ready to yell at him, but his words made Daemon’s breath leave his body, and for the first time in his life, he felt terror. “Princess Visenya has been taken, her guards were all killed, and the ship was sunk.”

His heart beat so loudly that it was all he could hear, his blood had turned to ice in his veins, and he could not catch his breath. The guard jumped when Caraxes’s roar made the walls shake as his dragon responded to his pain and fear with anger. Maybe he had grown too soft in the past few years if people thought they could attack his daughter. It was time he reminded others why he was known as the rogue prince. It seemed that the free cities were about to burn.

***********************************************************************************************************************************************

Visenya came awake with a groan as light hit her eyes with punishing force. It took her a moment to remember what had happened. There had been two ships, which appeared out of nowhere. One of her guards had tried to get her to the lower deck, but before they could even take a step, one of the ships had shot at them. A cannonball had hit her ship, sending her flying, and she had hit her head; she did not remember anything else after that. She touched her head, feeling the knot on the back of it, but she could not feel any broken skin, and there was no blood, which she was thankful for.

“I am pleased to see you are awake.” The man appeared out of nowhere, or maybe she was so out of it she had not seen him before. “I was worried you had hit your head too hard, but the healer said it was something minor and you would wake soon.”

She sat up and fixed her gold gown. “Who are you?”

“I am Roklan na Pagun.” The man looked her over. “And who might you be?”

Visenya raised an eyebrow. “Should you not know that already? You are the ones who took me, or do you go around kidnapping people without knowing who they are?”

“We have certain criteria for the people we take.” The way the man was looking at her made her very uncomfortable, and she did not enjoy it. “We saw you and knew that you were the kind of girl men would pay more than your weight in gold for.”

She was surprised by what the man was saying and wondered if he had been the one to hit his head. “You want to sell me?”

“At first, yes, but now I have a few questions.” The man moved closer, took her chin between his fingers, and raised her head. He turned her face from side to side before touching the sleeve of her gown. “You were on a ship that apparently belongs to your family. You are dressed in a gown that costs a small fortune; a family of four could live for a year with the jewels adorning your gown alone. Your necklace, earrings, and the decorations in your hair are made of solid gold. You look like a princess, and then there is your hair and eyes.” She yanked her face out of his hold and scooted closer to the wall. “If I did not know any better, I would think you are part of the Targaryen family.”

She blinked, not giving anything away. “And what if I am?”

The man’s eyes brightened. “Then your price would increase dramatically. I can’t imagine what many people would pay to be able to own a Targaryen princess.”

She did not react, there were no tears, not screaming and crying. “Then it is a good thing I am not a princess. I mean, not really.”

“Then what are you?”

Visenya smirked, the same smirk she had seen on her father’s face so many times, especially when he was about to spill blood. “I am the one who is going to kill. I will enjoy seeing your blood run down my hands and staining my gown. It will ruin the silk, but it will be worth it. As you said, my father has more than enough gold to buy me a hundred more gowns.”

The man simply laughed and shook his head, but Visenya leaned against the wall with a calm look on her face. She could feel Aegarax; he had known the moment she was in danger and had started looking for her. He had not been able to feel her while she was unconscious, but he had known the moment she had woken up, and now he knew where she was.

Less than two hours later, a different man walked in and grabbed her arm. She followed him without a fight, stopping when they came to the bottom of a staircase. “Roklan, are you sure about this?”

The man who had talked to her earlier nodded. “Yes, we would usually have to clean and dress the slaves we are selling, but she is already clean and is dressed like a princess. People will pay whatever we ask and more to be able to own her.”

The other man did not look too sure, but simply nodded and turned her over to Roklan. Visenya stayed quiet as they climbed up the stairs and came up to a large platform, there were hundreds of people waiting for she was not sure what. Once she was able to see better, she saw men, women, and children on the platform. The men were chained and they were not dressed as well as the children and the younger women. She also did not miss some of the men, who appeared to be soldiers. They wore quilted tunics, bronze spiked helmets, and leather torso armor, along with sandals. She had seen other men like them before in Qohor. Her father had taken her there once, and she had seen them; they were the main soldiers protecting the city. People call them the unsullied. Once she saw them, Visenya realized exactly where she was, Astapor.

“Welcome, friends. We have many interesting and exciting things to offer you this day.” Roklan appeared to be enjoying himself immensely. “We have strong men to do the harshest jobs, beautiful girls for your pleasure, and of course, the unsullied, the best soldiers in the free cities.”

People clapped and others cheered, making Visenya roll her eyes. She hated every second of it, the way the people in Astapor treated others like property. Roklan was still speaking. “We will save the best for last. A Targaryen princess, someone young who can be trained to be of service and to do as you wish.”

Visenya let out a snort. The man was an idiot; he did not know much about the Targaryens if he thought she could be trained to do anything she did not want. She tuned him out until some of his words registered.

“Of course, we will start with the unsullied, and as always, we will give you a demonstration for those who have never been here before.” Visenya watched in horror as one of the masters grabbed one of the unsullied and pushed him to his knees. The man did not resist, did nothing to defend himself, and one of the masters moved forward, a sword in his hand. They were going to kill him to prove a point, to show others how obedient they were, and it was horrifying. “Unsullied are completely obedient, they will obey their masters no matter….”

Visenya smiled when she felt the tug in her chest. Aegarax was close by. She sighed and relief, she would be able to save the man they wanted to kill. “Oh, by the love of all the gods, do you ever stop talking?”

Everyone went silent, and Roklan turned to look at her. “I beg your pardon.”

“Your voice grates on my nerves. I am sure you talk just to hear the sound of your own voice.” Roklan’s face turned red with anger, and he moved towards her. Visenya wrapped her hand around the hilt of her dagger; it had been a gift from her father. A Valyrian steel dagger, with a golden hilt and a round ruby at the end. It was a thing of beauty and deadly; she always had it on her. She was glad that the fools who had taken her had seen her as defenseless and had not checked her for weapons. “I swear if I have to keep listening to you, I will stab myself.”

Roklan moved quickly, his hand raised as he prepared to slap her. Visenya moved at the last moment, making the man lose his footing. She kicked the back of his knee, making him fall, and before anyone could react, she was standing behind him, one hand wrapped in his hair, while her other hand held a dagger to his throat. “I told you I would kill you. I would say to pick better next time, but we both know there will not be a next time.”

She slashed his throat without a second thought, before letting him go, and watched as he fell to the ground. Two of the masters who had been standing on either side of the stage moved, but before they could make it to her, Aegarax roared and landed in the middle of the plaza, crushing several people under his talons. It was time she showed these people why they had taken the wrong person; she was going to enjoy this.  

                                                            Visenya Targaryen 

Daemon reveled in the man’s screams; his cuts were bleeding profusely, and he looked very pale. He had been torturing him for over four hours and had not even stopped for a break. One of the men in his daughter’s ship had survived; the man had been able to make it to shore and made his way to the palace. He had told Daemon that two ships had ambushed them; they had appeared out of nowhere. One of the ships had shot at them without any provocation, and things had gone very badly from there. The man had fallen off the boat, which was the reason why he had been able to get away. The man had not seen what happened to Visenya, but his daughter’s body was the only one not found in the wreckage. Daemon refused to even think about her being killed, because if those thoughts even crossed his mind, then he would destroy everything.

“I can keep going all day and night.” He really could not; he needed to get his daughter, but he was not going to let the man know that. Daemon moved slowly, circling the bleeding man. “Now, I know that it was your men who sank my ship, killed my men, and took my daughter. There was one survivor, and he recognized the flag the ships were displaying. Yunkai has always been so proud of its belongings; you mark everything that belongs to you so it can be recognized from leagues away. I know you took my daughter, and I want to know where she is.”

The man coughed and spat out blood before he was able to speak. “What do you think will happen if I tell you? She is already gone, and there is not much you can do about it.”

“You have clearly underestimated me, or you are simply stupid.” He slammed the knife down, buried it in the man’s right leg, and enjoyed every second of his screams. Daemon waited for the man to stop screaming before he continued to speak. “Because if you knew me, you would know that I have no qualms in killing everyone in this forsaken continent until I get what I want.”

The look the man gave him said he was insane. “You would destroy entire cities for a girl?”

Daemon placed the tip of the knife under the man’s chin, forcing him to look up. “That girl is my daughter, and for her I will burn down the entire world with a smile on my face.”

The man would not last much longer. Daemon had stabbed him many times; the man had over a hundred cuts. He seemed to finally believe what Daemon was saying, because he nodded. “We gave her to Astapor; she will fetch a very good price in the slave market.”

Daemon’s anger soared to new heights at the thought of his daughter being sold as property for someone’s amusement. He wanted to kill the man in front of him, but did not want him to have a quick death.

He grabbed the man by the collar of his tunic and dragged him out of the cell and down the hall. Guards moved out of his way, knowing better than to intervene. The man did not struggle, too weak from the blood loss and everything else Daemon had done to him. They made it to the beach, and Daemon threw him to the sand, taking a few steps back as Caraxes moved closer.

The man whimpered when he saw the dragon and tried to scoot back. “No! You can’t do this.”

“Of course I can. You should have known better than to come after my daughter.” He felt no remorse, and all he could think about was killing everyone who had threatened his daughter. He smiled at Caraxes. “Kill him.”

His dragon understood exactly what Daemon wanted, and while the man on the sand cried and pleaded, Caraxes snapped his jaw, ripping one of the man’s legs. The screams traveled in the wind, and Daemon saw several guards move closer; some of them paled at the sight of the red dragon eating the man’s leg, while he was still alive and screaming. Next, Caraxes ripped one of the man’s arms. The screams continued, but much weaker and he knew the man would not last long. Caraxes seemed to know the same thing because the next thing he set the man on fire before eating the rest of him.

“That was not something I ever thought I’d see.” Reggio moved closer to him; he was looking a bit green, but Daemon was impressed when the man did not become sick. “Did you get what you wanted?”

He did turn to look at the prince. “They gave her to Astapor to be sold as a slave.”

Reggio swallowed. They knew what that meant. “That will be a hard city to take; they have the unsullied, and the city is well defended.”

He let out a snort. “It does not matter; they will all be dead soon.”

Reggio did not seem pleased with the idea. The Free Cities tried to keep the peace between themselves as much as possible. The man cleared his throat. “It will take me a few

days to get you enough men to help you. I am sorry I can’t do anything sooner.”

Daemon finally turned to look at the man, and the other prince swallowed and stepped back at the look on his face. “I do not need men, and I am not waiting one more minute. I am going to get my daughter now.”

Reggio looked at him like he had lost his mind. “That is insanity, you can’t fight the whole of Astapor on your own.”

Daemon moved to Caraxes and climbed quickly, making sure he was secured before looking at his friend. “I am not alone.”

Even if he had been alone, he would have stormed the city if it meant he would save his daughter. He would not abandon Visenya; he would not allow people to sell and use her. He would kill everyone in his path if it meant his daughter would be safe.

***********************************************************************************************************************************************

Aegarax was very upset, and Visenya could feel his fury and wish for blood over their connection. People were screaming and running, while the unsullied looked a bit confused at what was happening; she was sure no one had interrupted a slave auction ever before, especially not a giant dragon. One fool who was standing on top of the wall shot an arrow at her very angry dragon, which bounced off his scales and made Aegarax give the man an angry look. Her dragon swung his tail, hitting the man directly in the chest and sending him flying.

“Call off the dragon.” One of the slave masters moved closer to her, but she made sure to keep distance between them. He looked angry and terrified. “If you do not make him stop, we will kill you.”

“It is not smart to anger the only person the dragon listens to.” Visenya gestured to the spot behind the man. “Especially because he is standing right behind you.”

The man did not have time to turn around as Aegarax’s jaws clamped around him, ripping his body in half. Other soldiers started shooting arrows at her and Aegarax, which made Visenya move closer to her dragon, using his large body for protection.

“This is growing annoying.” She pointed to the wall. “Burn the walls.”

Her dragon started burning the wall behind her, the painful screams of men being burnt filling the city. Aegarax did not stop there, turning and burning every wall in his line of sight. People screamed, and Visenya used the chaos and confusion to climb on her dragon, not caring that her gown was getting ripped. Once she was settled, she ordered her dragon to fly. The current created by the flapping of Aegarax’s wings sent several tents flying. She was about to order her dragon to leave the city when she saw a few of the slave masters leading the unsullied away; they were the men who had been about to be sold. The one in the front was the one she had saved before they could kill for a demonstration. What the slave masters were doing in the city was horrible, and she could not imagine the kind of torture that it would take for a man to simply stand there and allow himself to be killed without putting up a fight. She cursed when she realized that she could not just leave, at least not while the city was filled with slaves.

Visenya redirected Aegarax and had him land a few feet in front of the slave masters and the unsullied. The men came to a stop, and she climbed off her dragon, but made sure to stay near Aegarax. She was not foolish enough to think that she could fight them all and win; she had been lucky that she had taken the other man by surprise.

Her voice was clear when she gave the order. “Let them go.”

The slave masters looked at her dragon with fear, but there was hatred when they looked at her. “You have what you want, you can leave, and we will not stop you, but these men and everyone else belong to us.”

“You say that as if you can stop me.” She gave the men an amused smile. “They are people; they do not belong to you. You will allow them all to leave, or I will burn this whole city and everyone in it to the ground.”

The slave masters looked at each other before the one standing at the front spoke. “We know you can do a lot of damage, but all we need is for one arrow or one spear to hit you, and then you will be gone. It would not be the first time a Targaryen is killed that way.”

Her father had insisted on her learning her history, not only the history of Westeros, but also her family history. She knew the man was speaking about her great-uncle Aemon, Princess Rhaenys’s father. Aegarax growled, not pleased with the man threatening her.

“I think you are the most foolish man I have ever met, if you think that threatening me when my dragon stands behind me is a good idea.” She smiled when she heard even louder screaming and the sound of Caraxes, her father had arrived, not that she had ever doubted it. If there was one thing she had known for sure, something she had never doubted, it was that her father would destroy the world to get her back. She gave the slave masters a proud look. “If there is something you should know is that I am never alone.”

“You are not a thing, you are not property, and you do not have to obey them. They stole you and sold you as if you were cattle. They did unspeakable things to you and forced you to live a life you did not choose.” Caraxes started setting everything on fire, and the men looked even more scared than before. Visenya turned her gaze to the unsullied who had almost been killed. “You do not have to fight for the people who have abused you; you do not have to serve them any longer. You can be free if you choose, be your own man. You can choose to fight for yourselves, and I will help you.”

The man stared at her, and for a moment, she was sure he would continue to do what he had been trained to do all of his life. But a moment later, the man moved with deadly accuracy and thrust his spear into the slave master’s back, pushing it until it came out of his chest. The other two slave masters gasped and tried to step away, but the other unsullied were prepared, and they killed them quickly.

The man she had saved took a step forward, but stopped when Aegarax growled. “I am called Black Mutt, and I wish to thank you for saving my life.”

“I only want one thing in return.” Visenya gave him a hopeful look. “Free the other slaves, then you can do as you wish.”

“Of course, princess.” The man said with a short bow before he and the other unsullied left to do as she asked.

Caraxes landed near Aegarax, and her father was on the ground a second later. Visenya ran to her father, threw herself in his arms, happy when he picked her up and crushed her against his chest.

“Thank the gods.” Her father peppered kisses all over her head and cheeks. “I am so glad you are safe.” He started looking her over, making sure she was not injured. “Were you hurt? Did they do anything to you?”

“No, I am well.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, happy to be reunited once more. “I just hit my head when they attacked the ship, but I am well. I promise.”

He nodded, but still checked her head, frowning when he ran his finger over the knot on the back of her head. “I will have the healers examine you.”

She wanted to protest, but knew it would do her no good, so she simply nodded and allowed her father to hug her for a bit longer before he put her down and looked around.

“Did Aegarax do all of this?”

“I started it.” She smiled at her father, proud of her accomplishment. “They wanted to sell me, said I would fetch a good price. One of the slave masters was going to kill one of the unsullied, so I slit his throat before he could, and Aegarax arrived right after that.”

Her father let out a relieved breath. “It is good that Aegarax arrived when he did.”

Her dragon let out a snort and sent feelings of annoyance through their connection. Visenya turned to glare at the large beast. “Really? That is what you want to argue about? Do you truly think this is the moment to demand an apology? I went through something traumatic.”

She could have sworn the dragon rolled his eyes. Was that even possible? The beast then called her dramatic, and Visenya gasped. “I am not being dramatic. I was attacked, and I was going to be sold!”

Smoke curled out of Aegarx’s nostrils as her dragon showed no worry for what had happened; his feeling was that she should stop whining. “I should stop whining? This is coming from the lizard who threw a tantrum because I refused to apologize?”

“Visenya.” She looked at her father, who was giving her a bewildered look. “We are in the middle of an enemy city where you were almost sold. Why are you arguing with your dragon?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. “He started it.”

Her father was about to say something, but then he grabbed her arm and yanked her until she was standing behind him. He made sure to cover her body with his as his sword made an appearance. Visenya looked around him to see the Unsullied she had helped had returned and stood a few feet away.

“Wait!” She moved before her father and the other men could start to fight. “They were helping me, I saved them, and then asked them to free the other slaves in return.”

Her father did not look too sure, but after a moment of the men not attacking, he lowered his sword, but did not put it away. “What do you want?”

She knew he was afraid, which made him angry, so she did not say anything about the way he was speaking to the men. She gave them an apologetic look. “Did you free the other slaves?”

“Yes, princess.” Black Mutt stepped forward, but stopped when her father moved closer to her. “Everything was done as you requested.”

“Thank you.”  She was hoping that the people would be able to take advantage of the chaos and leave. She nodded at the men. “You are free now, you may do as you wish and live however you desire. Thank you for helping me.”

Her father ran a hand over her head, and they were about to turn to their dragons when the men took a step forward and went down to their knees. She could tell her father was startled, and Visenya was not too sure what was happening, but maybe the men wanted to thank her for setting them free.

That idea was put to rest when Black Mutt raised his head. “We wish to serve the little princess.”

Her father did not look too pleased by the idea. “You have been set free; you do not have to serve anyone. You can have whatever life you choose.”

Black Mutt nodded, letting her father know that he understood what he had said. “We know, but we wish to serve the little princess.”

Visenya gave her father a pleading look. “Can I keep them?”

“No, you can’t keep them.” Her father shook his head. “They are not dogs.”

“I am aware they are not dogs, but they want to serve me.” She had not freed them so they could serve her, but if they wanted to, she was not going to say no. They would not be slaves, and they would be allowed to leave anytime they wished. “Why can’t I keep them?”

Her father crossed his arms over his chest. “How do you propose we get all the unsullied back home?”

She thought about it for a moment before an idea occurred to her. “We can tell the remaining slave masters to give us enough ships to take them back home.”

Her father raised an eyebrow. “And they are going to just give them to us?”

“They will after we threaten to kill them.”

Her father blinked, and after a moment, he nodded. “That might work.”

******************************************************************************************************************************************

1 month later.

Aemond was not sure why his father insisted on all of them having supper together. His mother and older sister could not stand each other and spent most of the time exchanging barbs. Aegon was drunk as always, while Helaena spent most of the time lost in her own head. Laenor tried to get the conversation going, but it mostly got him nowhere, and he usually gave up after a few minutes. Rhaenyra spent most of her time pushing her food around her plate and would barely look up unless someone spoke to her directly. Their father simply acted like nothing was wrong. This time, it was his mother who started the conversation.

“My father has told me that Daemon is gathering an army.” The entire table looked up at the same time as his mother continued to speak and gave his father a fearful look. “Do you think he is planning to attack us?”

His father seemed a bit alarmed at the news. “Why would my brother be gathering an army? He has not been back in Westeros in seven years.”

“He is not gathering an army.” Laenor’s voice made everyone turn to him. His sister’s husband did not seem concerned about his mother’s words. “The unsullied chose to serve him, well, not him, but his daughter.”

Aemond noticed the way Rhaenyra’s fork stilled on the plate, but she did not raise her head. The queen snorted and gave Laenor a mocking look. “Why would trained warriors choose to serve a small girl, a bastard one as that?”

Rhaenyra’s hands tightened on the fork, but she remained quiet. Laenor was the one looking mockingly at the queen. “Because she freed them, so they chose to serve her.”

Aemond was intrigued and wished to know more, but knew his mother would not be pleased if he asked any questions. He was grateful when his father was the one who asked. “How did she free them?”

“Visenya was sailing when ships from Yunkai attacked her ship and took her. They gave her to Astapor, who was planning to sell her as a slave.” Rhaenyra’s face paled, and her hand was holding the fork so tightly that Aemond was surprised the metal had not bent. “Visenya killed one of the slave masters before her dragon appeared and killed many people. She stopped the other slave masters from taking the unsullied and other slaves. She freed them and asked them to free the other slaves. Daemon arrived not too long after that and took care of the rest. Before they left, they made it clear to the unsullied that they were free, but they chose to serve Visenya. Daemon was able to procure several ships to transport them to Pentos, where they reside now.”

His father appeared even more curious now, and Aemond did not blame him. “How many unsullied serve them?”

Laenor chewed his food carefully before answering. “About fifteen thousand.”

His mother was not pleased that Laenor had defended Daemon. “How are you so sure of this?”

Laenor rolled his eyes. “He and my parents keep in contact. My parents visited Daemon a little over a year ago, and they write to each other quite frequently.”

His mother had nothing to say to that, knowing she had been bested. They continued to eat like they had not just discovered that there was a ten name day old child across the narrow sea who had a claim to the throne, had claimed the most ferocious dragon in the world, and now had an army of some of the best trained soldiers in the world.

Aemond had just taken a bite out of his pork when his mother spoke again, causing him to choke. “Lord Baratheon wrote to me, he is very pleased about the idea of marrying Aemond to one of his daughters.”

He coughed violently and tried not to die due to a badly chewed piece of pork. He had never been told that his mother wanted to marry him. He had not known that they had been communicating with one of the major houses in Westeros, trying to broker a marriage for him.

The king did not appear to notice Aemond’s apprehension, or he just did not care. The man smiled at the queen. “That is great news.”

His mother looked very pleased with herself. “Yes, we have been trying to set a time so they can visit the capital and Aemond can meet his daughters. We believe that waiting for them to meet will work better; that way, our son can pick whoever pleases him the most.”

His father turned to him with a smile. “Is that not good news, Aemond?”

He was glad he had finally stopped coughing, but the look he gave his father was not pleased in the least. “Not particularly.”

His father frowned, but the queen intervened and placed a hand over the king’s. “Do not worry, he will be more excited once he meets the Baratheon girls.”

He would not count on it, but kept his opinion to himself. If he said what he was truly thinking, then his mother would push for it even harder. The rest of the meal was quiet, and he was glad when it was finally over. Aemond watched as Aegon stumbled out of the king’s chambers as he accompanied Helaena back to her chambers. He felt sorry for his sister; she was married to their foolish brother, and he was not very kind to her.

They were almost at Helaena's chambers when she turned to him with a reassuring look. “Do not worry too much about mother.”

He snorted. “That is easy for you to say; it is not you she is trying to marry off and send away.”

“You will not be marrying a Baratheon.” Helaena appeared to be fully convinced. “Your bride is not ready yet, so you will have to wait a bit longer to meet her.”

He was used to his sister’s cryptic words, so he did not take them too seriously. “Well, if she does not arrive soon, she will find me married by the time she shows up.”

“It does not matter; nothing can stop destiny.” His sister opened the door before turning to him once more. “You are both bound by fire; it is impossible to break you apart.”

Aemond just stood there like a fool while his sister shut the door in his face. He wished she would speak a bit more clearly; she always left him confused.  

3 years later.

The boring tutor stood in front of her with a long wooden stick in his hand. He knew better than to use it to try to hit her; her father would kill him if Visenya did not do it first. While she did not enjoy studying for hours on end, she understood the importance of it, so she refrained from complaining, at least not any longer.

“This should be easy for you after so many years.” The man’s stick landed on the map on the table in front of her. “Tell me what this territory is, who leads it, and what else you know about it.”

“That is the North.” Not that it looked very inviting, even on a map. She had heard it was very cold. “It is led by House Stark, whose sigil is a dire wolf, and their house words are “Winter is coming.”

The man looked very pleased with her answer and pointed to another point on the map. “And this one?”

“That is the Stormlands, led by House Baratheon. Their sigil is a crowned black stag on a gold field, and their words are “Our is the fury.”

The man smiled. “I knew you would have no issues learning this.”

The stick moved to another area on the map, and she sighed, growing even more bored. “That is the Riverlands, led by House Tully. Their sigil is a silver, leaping trout on a red and blue background. Their words are family, duty, honor.”

The man nodded. “Very well.”

Visenya stared at the map before giving the tutor a questioning look. “Why a trout?”

The man blinked, looking a bit confused. “I beg your pardon.”

“I understand a dire wolf, a lion, and even a stag, but a trout?” It had never made much sense to her. “What is the trout supposed to do? The other animals can accompany their owners, but how will you transport a trout?” She thought about it for a moment longer. “Do they carry it around in a bucket, leaving it in the bathtub at night? How is the trout supposed to defend and protect them?”

The man looked completely baffled, like the idea had never occurred to him. He opened his mouth several times, but appeared to have no words. However, the voice at the door made a smile appear on Visenya’s face. “I think you are thinking too deeply about it. You should not question your poor tutor so much.”

“Grandmother!” She jumped off the table, ignoring everything she had heard about decorum, and threw herself at the woman who had stepped a bit farther into the room. “I am so happy to see you. Papa did not say you would be visiting.”

“That is because your father did not know. He and my husband have some business, so I decided to come so I could see you.” The woman kissed her cheeks and the top of her head before pulling back a bit. “But let me look at you. Gods, you have grown so much and look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

Visenya preened, enjoying the woman’s words. She was very much aware that Rhaenys Targaryen was not truly her grandmother. The woman was her father’s cousin and her stepmother’s mother, but Visenya had always seen her as her grandmother. She had always known that Laena was not her mother, but she had loved the woman, who had been kind and sweet to her. She had been very sad when Laena died and was glad that her grandparents had decided to keep a good relationship with them.

Before Visenya could ask any questions, her father walked in, followed by Corlys Velaryon. Visenya’s smile widened as she ran to the man. “Grandsire, I am so happy to see you.”

“So am I.” Corlys hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “Tell me, have you been sailing?”

She gave him a mischievous smile. “Of course, you know how much I enjoy the sea.”

The man picked her up, making her squeal, and kissed her cheeks again. “That is my girl. I have a present for you.”

Visenya’s eyes widened; she loved presents. “What is it?”

Corlys ignored his wife and her father as he took Visenya’s hand and led her out of the room and towards the beach. “Come with me.”

Visenya followed happily, very much aware that her father and grandmother were following them. Visenya gasped when they arrived at the water’s edge, and her grandsire pointed to the beautiful ship floating in the water near them. The dark wood shone in the sun; the figurehead at the front of the ship bore an almost identical resemblance to Aegarax. The sails were made of purple fabric, and the Targaryen seal had been embroidered in gold thread. It was a beautiful ship, and she was sure it cost a fortune.

She clapped her hands and jumped up and down. “You brought me a ship?”

Her grandsire nodded, seeming pleased with her reaction. “Yes, do you like it?”

She hugged his waist. “I love it, thank you.”

Her father groaned from beside them and gave Corlys an annoyed look. “Why would you get her a ship? She already has one.”

Corlys shrugged, not looking concerned. “Well, now she had two.”

Her father was not pleased by this. “You spoiled her too much.”

“I spoiled her?” Her grandsire’s look said her father was being a hypocrite. “This is coming from the man who gave her an army of highly trained soldiers?”

Her father appeared offended. “I did not give them to her; they chose to serve her.”

Her grandsire rolled his eyes. “Please, you always give her whatever she asks for and never tell her no.”

Her father did not say anything else, but mumbled under his breath. She knew that he was not truly angry; her father loved her, and he was always giving her gifts. Visenya was very aware of how lucky she was, of how loved she was. Her father made sure to tell her and show her how much she meant to him every day. He made sure to surround himself with people who were good to her, and no one was allowed to speak badly of her. She loved her life and would not change it for anything. It had not always been that way, but as she grew, she had learned to be thankful for what she had instead of missing what she had never known.

                                                      Visenya Targaryen (13 years old.)

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2 weeks later.

Visenya was glad her grandparents had decided to visit; they had wanted to spend time with her. Her father and Corlys had businesses together; they had made a lot of gold, and it helped them keep a good relationship. She also knew that her grandsire and grandmother sent her father news of the goings-on in Westeros.

She and her grandmother walked hand in hand down the street of commerce in Pentos. Her grandmother had decided that spending the day shopping would be a good goodbye. “Are you enjoying our outing?”

“Yes,” Visenya looked at the older woman and smiled. “I am glad you are here. Shopping with my father is not the same. If you ask him, everything looks beautiful on me. He can never tell me when things look bad.”

“I am sure he is speaking the truth.” Her grandmother laughed. “You grow more beautiful every day. You look more and more like…”

Rhaenys’s expression changed, and sadness appeared on her face. Visenya looked at her grandmother and gave her a reassuring smile, not wanting her to feel bad. “Like my mother?”

The older woman shook her head. “I am sorry, do not pay me any mind.”

“You do not have to hide it from me.” She was not stupid. “I am aware I look like my mother; you are not the first person to remark on it.”

Her grandmother frowned. “Who has remarked on it?”

“Several people, especially lords.” She had heard it many times, especially when they seemed to forget she was there. “I have heard them tell my father how much my mother and I look alike. I do not think all of them are aware that she is my mother; they think that we look alike because of my Targaryen blood.”

Rhaenys looked a bit sad. “Did your father ever tell you who your mother is?”

“Yes, I asked about her when I was six.” She saw one of her favorite tents, the woman who ran it sold the most beautiful jewelry, and Visenya was a regular customer. “Let us go there, she has beautiful necklaces. I saw a pair of earrings that will look stunning on you, and I wish to give you a gift.”

Her grandmother did not say anything, simply followed her and watched as Visenya ran her fingers over several necklaces, tiaras, and other jewelry that had been laid out for people to see. Visenya found the earring she was looking for; they were gold with sapphires in the shape of teardrops. They would look beautiful on her grandmother, so she bought them without a second thought. She gave the earrings to the older woman, who thanked her for the gift, and they continued to walk. Visenya knew her grandmother was still curious about their previous conversation, which is why she was not surprised when the woman asked her questions about the issue.

“Are you not curious about your mother?”

“Curious?” She frowned at the older woman, not sure what she meant. “She is the heir to the iron throne and will be queen one day. She was the youngest dragon rider in our family until I came along, and she is married to your son. What is there to be curious about?”

Rhaenys seemed a bit taken aback by her nonchalantness on the topic. “Do you not have questions about the reason why she is not here with you?”

Visenya could tell her grandmother would not let this go; the woman seemed convinced they needed to speak about the topic. She simply shrugged. “The king gave her a choice, she could become queen, or she could be my mother. She chose what was more important to her. I do not think there was anything to question; things seemed very clear.”

“Visenya, I do not think it was as easy as that.” Her grandmother seemed to have grown tired of her speaking without looking at her, because the older woman took hold of Visenya’s shoulders and turned her until the young girl had no choice but to look at her. “I know you are hurt, but you should not bury your feelings and refuse to talk about things that hurt you.”

She had always loved Rhaenys; the woman had been a grandmother and mother figure to her for as long as she could remember, but she had overstepped. She pulled herself out of the older woman’s hold and took several steps back. “That woman is not my mother; the only thing she ever did for me was allow me to be born, which I am grateful for, but that is as far as my gratefulness extends. She picked what she considered important, and I will not live my life missing her or wishing she were here. She is the one who made the choice, and she is the one who has to live with it. I refuse to give her any power over me.”

Her grandmother looked incredibly sad. “I am not saying that you should feel bad or allow her to have any power over you, but you can’t shut your feelings down. It is natural to miss your mother.”

“But I do not miss her. I can’t miss what I’ve never had.” She raised a hand when Rhaenys tried to speak again. She was ready to be done with the conversation. “I have my father, he is all the family I need, and he is the only person I owe loyalty to. I love you and grandsire, but if you are going to try and convince me that I should seek my mother or try and forgive her, then I think we should return home.”

“That is not what I am trying to do.” Her grandmother stepped in front of her when Visenya tried to move around her to leave. One of the unsullied moved, but Visenya shook her head; she knew Rhaenys was not a danger to her. Her grandmother kneeled so they were eye to eye. “I am not saying you should forgive your mother or even speak to her if you do not want to. I just do not want you to have any regrets.”

Her eyes were harsh, and so was her voice when she finally answered. “I am not the one who has to regret anything, since I was never given a choice.”

When her father had told her about her mother years before, the first thing Visenya had noticed was the sad look in his eyes. She could tell that he loved her mother, and it had hurt him when she chose the throne over them. Her father had always done everything for her; he had not only given her his name, but he had raised her as a princess, granted her every wish. Her father was the one who sacrificed to make sure she had a good life, and she would never question his decisions or ask anything that would make him sad. She had understood from the beginning that asking about her mother was opening old wounds, and she refused to do that. She knew what she needed to; she did not care to understand anything else.

                                                              Visenya Targaryen 

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4 days later.

Visenya was sad that her grandparents had left, but she was glad to have seen them and spent time with them. She knew her grandmother would write as soon as she arrived in Driftmark, just to let her know she had arrived safely. She wanted to send a gift to her grandmother as a thank you for the visit. Her father had bought her several books about Valyrian history, and she knew the perfect one to gift her grandmother.

She entered her father’s chambers, where she had last seen the book. She and her father would sit by the fire at night and read. They would then discuss the things they had read about. Her father wanted her to learn about strategy and politics, so he was always keen to discuss all kinds of issues with her.

She made her way to the desk, frowning when she did not see the book. There was a stack of books on the corner of the desk, and she was hoping that one of those books was the one she was looking for. She was moving the books around when a piece of paper caught her eye. It was not the paper as much as the name written at the bottom of the page, Rhaenyra. She looked around, as if her father were about to jump out from behind one of the columns. Once she made sure she was alone, she took the paper and started to read. She soon realized it was a letter, one her mother had written to her father. The paper was worn, like it had been handled many, many times, but it was the words that stole her breath.

Daemon,

As I sit here in my gilded chamber, surrounded by the riches and splendor that my father’s throne has afforded me, my heart feels more like a prison than a palace. How I wish you could see the tears that stain the silk of my sleeve, for they are the only true testament to the agony that has taken root within me since the day I made my choice.

I write to you with trembling hands, knowing that my heart has betrayed you and our precious daughter. I can scarcely bear to think of how I abandoned you both for the cruel weight of a crown. My father’s ambition demanded my loyalty, and I was too young, too naïve to understand the cost of my choice. I loathe him for forcing me into this wretched decision, but more than that, I loathe myself for not having the courage to defy him. If I could turn back the hands of time, I would shatter the chains of my destiny and choose love over duty in a heartbeat.

What I would give just to hold our daughter, to see her face light up with laughter, to feel her tiny hands grasping mine. I have heard whispers of her beauty, of her intelligence that rivals the wisest of scholars, and I cannot help but swell with pride, even amidst my sorrow. You have done such a magnificent job raising her, and though I am but a specter in her life, I want you to know that she is the light in my darkest days.

I have no right to inquire about her, but I long to know how she is, to hear of her joys and her dreams. Does she have my eyes? Is she witty and brave like you? I ache to hear of her accomplishments, to know that she is thriving despite the absence of her mother. It gnaws at my heart like a relentless tide, the knowledge that I chose a throne over her, that I chose my own ambitions over the sanctity of our family.

I do not seek your forgiveness or hers, for I know the depth of my betrayal is unfathomable. No words can mend the rift I have created nor erase the pain I have caused you both. I will carry this burden until my last breath, tormented by the image of a life I could have shared with you. The crown feels heavy upon my head, a crown of thorns that reminds me of my choices, and I will never forgive myself for the path I have taken.

If only I could hold you one last time, to tell you of my unending love and regret. I wish for you and our daughter a life filled with happiness and love, free from the shadows of my mistakes. Please, take care of her and let her know that she is loved beyond measure, even by a mother who has failed her.

Yours always,  

Rhaenyra.

“Visenya,” her father’s voice snapped her out of her trance, and she noticed the way her hands shook. She had never expected to find a letter written by her mother. She could see the moment her father realized what she was holding, the way his face changed, and his expression became sad. He moved closer and took the letter from her, folding it and putting it in his pocket. “I never meant for you to see that.”

She knew that he had hidden it for a reason. Her hands fisted, but she kept her voice even. “When did she send that?”

Her father took a seat on the chair behind his desk and pulled her closer. “Last time Reggio visited Westeros, Rhaenyra and he met, she gave him the letter and asked him to deliver it to me.”

By the edges and the marks on the paper, she could tell it had been folded and unfolded several times. “Why did you keep it?”

Her father did not answer immediately, seeming to take his time to find the right words to say. She had noticed that was something he did any time he had to speak about her mother. “I am not sure, I guess, I like the idea of knowing she is suffering, that she regretted the choice she made.”

She gave a short nod, and her voice remained emotionless. “She can not regret it so much; she is still there, playing the dutiful heir.”

“I know, but I have known Rhaenyra her entire life. I can almost hear the pain in her voice every time I read the letter.”

She did not understand, but she could not criticize her father, not after everything he had done for her. “Are you going to forgive her?”

“No,” She was surprised by how quickly he answered. There was no hesitation in his voice. He took her hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I could have forgiven her for choosing the throne over me; I would have expected that, but I can’t forgive her choosing anything else over you.”

She would take the time to examine her emotions later, but for now, she was glad that he did not want to forgive her mother. “I am sorry.”

Her father frowned, confusion etched on his face. “For what?”

She licked her lips and said the words she had been keeping inside for so long. “For giving up so much to take care of me. You lost your family and your position, and you were even exiled from the only home you knew. I may not say it, but I do appreciate it.”

“You say it like I would have made a different choice.” He placed a finger under her chin and raised her head, making her look at him. She could not miss the absolute conviction on his face. “Nothing means more to me than you, Visenya. I did not doubt my choice for even a moment; no crown nor riches have ever or will ever be worth more than you. You are my greatest treasure and the person in the world I love the most. I would not only leave everything for you, but I would burn the entire world and everyone in it just to see you smile.”

She nodded before throwing her hands around his neck. She had always known how much her father loved her. There had been things that she had doubted in her life, but her father’s love had not been and would never be one of those things.  

                                                         Visenya Targaryen