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a-world-in-grey · 1 year ago

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Sola/Little Nox Dissidia au

@raven-6-10 @secret-engima

The promised trainwreck under the cut!

The Citadel's been a wreck of tension ever since Spitfire and the prince went missing. Abyssus yowling fit to wake the dead brought the on-duty glaives running to find Sola's bed empty, phone still on her bedside table and all her shoes still in her closet, all signs pointing to an unwilling departure despite a clear absence of any sign of a struggle.

They'd raised the alarm, checking on the rest of the royal family and their retinue-

-and found Prince Noctis' bed as empty as his sister's.

Then, while Citadel security was swarming like a kicked anthill, spearheaded by a blackly furious Marshal and King's Shield looking for their godschildren, those guarding the Crystal had sounded the alarm.

Which is when they'd found their missing royals, via the Crystal putting out a hologram of the two like something from a bad science fiction movie.

Tredd hasn't gotten a decent night's sleep in four days.

If it's not the palpable worry radiating from the King racking up the tension, then it's the fact that the royal children have been summoned to a desolate world to participate in what's essentially a glorified death match on opposite teams, during which Prince Noctis is in nothing but his pajamas.

No one is ever again calling Sola's insistence on keeping her deployment bags in her armiger frivolous.

Though, if Tredd has to be completely honest, Sola's younger brother's lack of proper attire is only a fraction of what's causing the tension. No, the bulk of it goes to Spitfire's newest Uncle and now youngest brother. The once-Chancellor of Niflheim and Captain's kid. Captain's kid who's apparently the Crown Prince's clone, created from a sample Niflheim stole how knows how many years back.

Luche had dipped out to make a phone call to Axis, because those are Arra braids in Ardyn and Nox's hair, and Axis had completely neglected to mention that his recent adoptees were Lucis Caelums, leaving Tredd to watch Axis' clansmen on this fucked-up version of reality TV.

Nyx has been teaching Spitfire the Ulric Dance ever since her Rage a few months back clued them all into the fact that Spitfire's as Sky-born as anyone can get without being an actual dragon - and seriously, Tredd is this close to shaking Nyx, the idiot needs to adopt her already, for Ramuh's sake - so he's in the room whenever he's not sleeping. Which means Libertus is also here, making sure Nyx does take the time to sleep because the last thing any of them need is the twitchy Ulric doing something Dumb, aided by Abyssus literally carrying Nyx out of the room when it's time to catch some shut eye.

Crowe's anxiously watching her girlfriend fight off various monsters and champions, fingers plucking at the rubber band Crowe's worn on her wrist ever since the Burning. This hadn't been how Sola and Crowe had wanted Sola's family to find out about that particular relationship, but Crowe had adamantly refused to be barred from the room for a second until Sola came back.

Luche, like Tredd, is there as Axis' braided brother, leaving the rest of the Fourth Regiment to attend in shifts depending who's on break, with Pelagia and her Third Regiment counterpart running everything because Captain is also busy watching this clusterfuck.

The Marshal's not left since the whole thing started - has he even slept? - but the King and Shield have to leave for short periods to make token appearances lest the entire country learn the royal children have disappeared into the ether. Gladiolus and Ignis have to be forced out of the room for their studies, which has apparently resulted in temper tantrums worthy of a Raging Sola, but the two young teens have yet to convince the King, Shield, or Marshal otherwise so the process repeats every day without fail.

Sola latching on to her new uncle and brother isn't a surprise. She's Sky-born, they do that. Especially because for all that the ex-Chancellor is clearly missing more than a few lines to his sails, he equally as clearly cares for and is protective of his niece and nephews, despite his distaste for Regis and Mors.

Were it not for the danger to her brothers, Sola would probably be having fun. The chance to cut loose against other skilled fighters? No one looming over her shoulder, scrutinizing her every action and deeming anything not up to their standards as 'monstruous'? Sola would have loved that in any other scenario.

But Spitfire has two brothers to protect, and Tredd swears under his breath when Sola assigns herself to Noctis and Nox's guard team, instead letting Ardyn join the strike team. The self-sacrificing dumbass.

"Care to explain that?"

Whoops.

Tredd cringes away from the Marshal's displeasure, silently thanking the Storm-Father that the King and Lord Amicitia are off in an unavoidable meeting with one of the Councilors.

"Sola is better suited on the strike team, sir." Luche says politely, before Tredd can stick his foot further in his mouth. "She's not usually charged with guard duties in the field."

The Marshal eyes them both severely. "Izunia is stronger than Sola." He says sourly. The revelation of the former Chancellor's heritage and all it's unpleasant implications hasn't been fun for anyone. "He can take a smaller strike team, freeing more people to guard Noctis and Nox." Unsaid is the fact that neither Sola nor Ardyn will leave the princes alone with strangers.

"Yes, sir." Luche demurs. That had been the argument Sola used to convince Ardyn.

(Tredd hadn't thought anyone could be more protective than Sola of her brothers, but Ardyn has her beat by a mile. Ifrit have mercy on whoever tries to harm either of the princes in the future, because Sola and Ardyn sure as Pyre won't, and Tredd doubts there'll be enough of the moron in question afterwards to scatter their ashes.)

Tactically, the assignments have merit. As Tredd exchanges a glance with an equally grim-faced Luche, he knows tactics aren't what they - or any of the glaives - are worried about.

Spitfire doesn't do defense. It's not a matter of skill. Tredd wouldn't be worried if it was, skill they can compensate for.

No, the issue is that Sola's a damn dragon of a Sword. Her first, second, and third instinct when dealing with threats is to kill it. She can't do that on defense - her priority has to be Noctis and Nox's safety, even if it means letting her target escape.

It's not impossible. Not when she's got help.

And yet Tredd can't shake the feeling that this isn't going to end any way but badly.

Tredd's right.

Two days later, everything goes to Ifrit's Pyre in a gift basket.

The strike team is away, trying to complete whatever the objective is that will send them all home.

(Ardyn is a force of destruction to contend with, tearing through enemies like they're tissue paper, making the King pale with an anguished epiphany he refused to share.)

The ambush catches everyone off guard. The strange dragon-like creatures swarm the protective detail. The healers push Nox and Noctis behind them, the champions better suited for close quarters combat struggling to keep the creatures off their more vulnerable companions.

In the commotion, Tredd doesn't see what sparks it, but he sure as Pyre sees when Spitfire loses it.

A low snarl rips from her throat, gaze and focus narrowing down on the threat in front of her.

Crowe swears. "Pyre-damn it all, someone back her up-"

But none of the other champions are watching Sola's back. They're too busy with their own battles, too busy keeping the kids safe. They don’t notice how Spitfire's been drawn away from the rest of the group, don't see the blind spot left vulnerable without a glaive or Abyssus there to cover her.

If Sola's family hadn’t known before, they've sure as Pyre realized it now. It's impossible to miss the glaives' reactions - Luche's grim certainty, Libertus' hand a physical restraint on Nyx's shoulder, Nyx's hands clenching and unclenching as he resists the useless instinct to grab his kukris and throw, Crowe's snarling at people who cannot hear, the way every muscle in Tredd's frame coils as he fights off the Fury rising like a wave-

-and crests, as Spitfire staggers, the attack she doesn't see ripping through her. Magic erupts throughout the room as Sola's eyes widen and her face twists in an agonized cry that has no breath to voice.

Sola hits the ground, and Nox s c r e a m s.

Ghostly weapons tear through the remaining creatures, a constant stream of light and steel that is nothing like any armiger they've seen. Champions startle as weapons pass through them harmlessly only to shred the creatures around them, until nothing remains.

The healers rush to Sola's side, but even from here, Tredd can see that it's bad. Really bad - he doesn't know if Spitfire's going to make it even with three healers and her own regeneration trying to save her life.

There's another burst of magic and Ardyn arrives, terrified and protective - Nox's magic must have alerted him, but Tredd doesn't know what the ex-Chancellor can do that the healers can't, Lucis Caelum magic just doesn't heal…

Ardyn takes in Nox, boneless with exhaustion and sobbing in Noctis' hold. Noctis, trying to keep it together. The champions doing their best to shield them from where Sola is laying on the ground between the healers.

(None of them can see it in the blue of the Crystal's hologram, how Sola is too pale against the shock of red hair haloed around her face, nearly indistinguishable from the blood staining the grass.)

Something in Ardyn's spine steels. He strides forward, ignoring the champions' attempts to keep him back, shedding his upper layers before he kneels and gathers Sola against his bare chest.

(The scars hit Tredd like a sucker punch. They've all seen some gnarly scars, no one survived the Burning unscathed, but these… these are torture scars. Torture scars and death blows and the glowing sigil of the royal family that can't be anything other than a brand.)

(The King is white as a sheet. Tredd wants to throw up. Parents are supposed to support you, not… not this.)

(Six, no wonder Axis kept Ardyn and Nox's heritage a secret. That Ardyn is able to trust and care for any of his Kin is astounding.)

It's not until magic rises from Ardyn's skin that Tredd realized what's happening. That he realizes what the tint of the Crystal's magic had disguised. But he's seen Spitfire heal others dozens of times out in the field, he recognizes this shaping of magic, and Ardyn is so much stronger than Spitfire-

It doesn't make it any easier to watch as Ardyn's skin splits, his blooding pouring out to join Sola's painting the ground. Doesn't make it any easier to watch as his wounds close, Ardyn gasping and trembling from more than just pain as he curls over his healed but unconscious niece, even as Noctis and Nox barrel in to comfort him.

Tredd's almost relieved when the Marshal turns to them and demands, "What the fuck just happened?"

As one, every glaive turns to Nyx. He's the only Chief present, he's the only one who can make the decision to share Galahdian lore with Outsiders as he has been with Sola.

Nyx stares a few moments longer at Sola's too-still form, hands flexing. Finally, he turns to face the Marshal and the King, expression dark as a thunderstorm. "We call it the Draconian's Rage."

"We?" The King's eyes are sharp. Tredd thinks he sees something of the warrior the King must have been when he visited Galahd twenty years ago.

"Galahd. The Draconian and the Infernian weren't the only Astrals to Bless humans. The magic disappeared long before the time of the Founder, but we still Remember." Nyx glances back to where the healers are fussing over Sola and Ardyn and Nox. "You have the Draconian's Blessing. But the Draconian isn't human."

Nyx turns back to the King, storm-blue locking with armiger-blue. "The Astrals aren't human, and sometimes their Blessed aren't either."

The King's lips thin. "You're saying my daughter isn't human." Treading on dangerous ground - the King's never taken kindly to the rumors painting Sola a monster.

"Physically, she is." Nyx says, steady as the cliffs against the storm-swept tides. "In her soul? Her instincts? She's no more human than I am."

That startles the King. "You are-?"

"Ramuh's. Storm to Sola's Sky."

There were rumors that the Ulrics were Ramuh's Blessed. Coeurl-Kin. Shape-changers and Wind-Walkers and as Black as the storms in their souls.

Tredd never thought he'd hear the rumors confirmed. This is Clan History. Private Clan History only ever shared with Clan Allies. If that.

"We thought you knew." Tredd says, trying to buy some leeway for Nyx. Tredd can't reveal that he's also not-quite human. Not without his Chief's permission. He might be able to get away with telling Sola - it's only a matter of time before she joins the Clans - but King Regis? Tredd would be in serious trouble. "You have thousands of years of history. Family customs as unique as any of ours." Customs catering specifically to those non-human instincts, Tredd doesn't say.

Tredd suspected otherwise after Sola's Rage in HQ. Sola didn't know anything about her Rages, only that she'd get so angry she couldn't think beyond needing to kill something. She was terrified that she'd try to kill anyone near her, hence her retreating somewhere secluded until she could regain control over herself. When she'd come out of her Rage to find Nyx and Tredd at the end of her weapons, injured but otherwise in one piece, she'd been horrified that she might have tried to kill them.

She hadn't known that she wouldn't. That even in the deepest Rage, her instincts would recognize the difference between hers and threat. Sola would never harm an innocent bystander. Not on purpose. Not unless they provoked her first.

So Tredd had suspected. He didn't want to believe it - how could the Lucis Caelums not have any information of the Draconian's Blessed? He knows Mainlanders don't keep Tales like the Clans do, but they do keep records! Sola cannot be the first Lucis Caelum to be Skyborn!

But no. The royal family has no clue.

What a mess.

"What does that mean for Sola?" The Marshal asks while the King processes Nyx's revelation.

"She's protective." Crowe says. Tredd snorts at the understatement of the century. "She'll react violently to anything threatening her Claimed. Lethally, if she can - Skyborn don't like leaving threats alive to try again."

"Prince Noctis and Nox are her only vulnerable Claimed. Prince Nox has his uncle to protect and care for him, which will satisfy Sola's instincts." Because nothing short of an Astral will be able to get past Ardyn to harm Nox, and even then Tredd would still put his money on Ardyn. "But Sola's Sword to Prince Noctis, and the oldest and strongest of his Retinue. She's his primary protector. Not being allowed or able to kill anything threatening him will stress her instincts."

The Marshal grimaces, glancing at the King and Shield. Tredd wonders if he's thinking about how Sola came to join the Kingsglaive. She'd eventually told them the circumstances behind her joining their training, one night out on deployment. Knowing now that Sola's Skyborn, that was a really Stupid decision on the King's part, banning Sola from protecting her disabled brother. The King was lucky Sola didn't try to sneak out of Insomnia after them.

"When she's under a lot of stress, she'll lose her grasp of human language." Tredd tells them. Tredd's never had that happen to him, but he also knows that as far as Seaborn instincts go, his are fairly tame. Sola, unfortunately, is way out on the extreme end of the scale. "Sign language she can comprehend, and that empathic thing she does with her magic. She'll lose her words before she Rages, so if it's that bad don't bother talking to her. She won't hear it."

Another glance between Sola's relatives. Six, how many signs had they missed?

Tredd determinedly ignores it. "When she's Raging, either give her space to work through it or spar with her. Sola won't hold back, but she won't try to kill you. But if you need to step out of the fight, make it physically clear that you surrender. Weapons away, hands down and open, on your knees and throat bared if you have to."

The King frowns. "That seems… dangerous."

"Not with Sola." Nyx says before Tredd's temper leads him to say something snarky and unwise to the King. "She'll always recognize her own."

"Shit's starting up again." Luche suddenly says.

Everyone turns back to the Crystal, conversation tabled.

For now.

#ffxv #Shadow of Heaven's Light #Little Nox verse #dissidia au #fusion #aka everyone gets to see what happens when a feral Lucis Caelum #doesn't have anyone to watch their back #This Is Why LCs Have Shields #Nyx will probably catch some flak from the other Chiefs for revealing Galahd Culture to Outsiders #But most Chiefs will - grudgingly - agree that Regis deserved to know about the impact of the Draconian's Blessing on his line #Nyx doesn't reveal any other Culture other than Clan Ulric being Storm Blessed #And Nyx has full authority over that decision as the only Chief Ulric #The other Chiefs don't necessarily agree or like his decision but they can't rightly contest it #Nyx does not reveal that the Wanderer had a daughter with an Ulric and that there were a lot of Ulrics descended from said daughter #The magic died out after two generations but the instincts did not #so Ulrics had both Storm- and Sky-born in their Clan which is how Galahdians actually know about Sky instincts #But Regis doesn't need to know that

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camilbarnessss · 2 years ago

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¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤

{ Aemond Targaryen }

《 Part 8 》

The One-Eyed Prince and The Rogue Princess married. Secretly, but they did, even after all the schemes and plots of their families so they couldn't. The lovers made their own discreet plot as well, and it is working just fine. Daera understands their position, the causes of their harsh decisions. However, anyone who was wronged like Aemond so many times was, is going to feel some sort of hatred, wether it's subconsciously or consciously, towards the people who did it. That is a hard true. But, what Aemond ends up doing above the skies of Storm's End, out of rage, and eternal resentment...ultimately starts the domino effect that would lead to The Dance of the Dragons, which will mean the lost of his sanity...and his love.

《 The Invitation's Second Season 》

Masterlist

Warnings: constant swearing, infidelity, lots of angst, mention of rape, mention of corruption, forced abortion, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy your reading!!! Likes, comments and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡

■ ■ ■

The night is long. And, though many in the castle may be wishing for it to be over already, the arriving of the next day will not suit gladly to some. Specially to the royal family, to be clear, who, ironically, are the ones more desperated for the day to be over.

After the violent encounter between the princes Aegon and Daera, in the former's chambers, Ser Erryk, his sworn protector, stayed at the outsides of the rooms. The white cloak now stands with firmness in front of the doors, in silence, remembering the fight and acussations of the princes he witnessed, not even an hour ago.

After the others left the quarters, a serious Aemond tried to take his brother to Maester Orwyle, for him to clean and treat properly the bleeding wounds on both his arms. Nevertheless, Aegon was in total denial, and started drinking recklessly -crying as well- while yelling madly to his younger brother to fuck off and to leave him alone.

Not putting up with any of his shit, prince Aemond fucked off the room, and left his drunk brother alone in his misery. On his way out, he mocked Ser Erryk, as he has done before a few times, pointing out what a sworn protector he is, that couldn't get past the Velaryon pups to save his prince. The Cargyll twin, as he must, remained silent.

Prince Aemond, afterwards, desired to reach to his wife's chambers, to also try to take care of her own injuries and, besides, to talk with her. However, the prince was catched in a hallway by his grandfather, The Hand, whom he had a talk with about his reckless and dangerous behaving in the supper. When Otto asked for Aegon, wanting to reproach him to, Aemond only answered that his brother was "rotting himself deeper".

While the young princes of the realm were having their private and brutal quarrel, the adults of the royal family shared, as a matter of fact, a warm moment. Well, Rhaenyra and Alicent, to be clear. The Queen and The Princess agreed on the matter that the latter will be returning to The Keep, in dragonback, within a short time, after seeing the children home. Rhaenyra would be returning to King's Landing along her older step-daughter, Daera, for she still oughts eight more days of her monthly visits to her godschildren, and her dear cousin.

Subsequently to the fight, Lucerys, Rhaena and Baela had departed to their bedrooms by themselves after they were commanded to it by their two older siblings. Matters to say that, before they went to their chambers, and after Luke had a quick talk with his mother, he communicated to all that they will be leaving soon, later in the night, back to home. He, as well, told his older sister that she would be coming back with the company of Rhaenyra, which she heartily agreed to.

The siblings didn't want for their parents to know about the fight of Daera and Aegon, for that would only worsen the doings of the dinner. Thus, Daera didn't go to see Maester Orwyle either. Had it been Maester Gerardys they would have gone to him, for he knows how to keep secrets. But, unfortunately, he remained in Dragonstone while they are at the capital.

Hence, the one attending to Daera's wounds, is her husband...her fake husband.

In the round dining table of Jacaerys's rooms, he is seated along his wife, who has both her arms extended in front of him. Two chandeliers are lighted near them, and then, the whole chamber is sinked in the darkness of the starry night. The tiny flames of each candle dance in the air, keeping them warm.

With delicacy and caution, Jace passes a humid rag on her arms, carefully cleaning the wounds with slowness. The bleeding has ended, minutes ago, and now he is just cleaning the blood left, caring a lot about not touching the injuries to often, for they are still very fresh, and irritated.

She has Aegon's eight scratches on her arms, and seems to not care about them, for she has not complained even once about the pain.

Daera sighs through her nose, pressing her lips as she watches the ugly long wounds she now wears in her skin.

-And, so, Dyana will join us in our way back home-, the princess goes telling, with a low soft voice-...She will be better at Dragonstone-, she whispers.

-I agree-. Jacaerys sighs, tired. He is slouched in his chair, with a really bad posture, in front of her, carefully cleaning her blood with the rag-. I am so glad she'll be out of this place-. He sighs, again, and then tsks his tongue-. You know? If we could only know how many girls he has damaged, we would take them all with us-. For a moment, he stops his doings, lifting his head to look at her, with impotence.

When he looks up to his wife, he finds a soft crooked smirk on her lips, and a tired shine on her eyes, staring at him with a pity sadness. Within some silent seconds, he sighed, understanding her without the needing of words.

-You are right-, Jace whispers, looking down again to keep cleaning the blood-. Solutions are not the problem. Things like that must not even happen, in the first place-. The prince mumbles, ashamed. The princess nods quietly, exhausted, losing her gaze on some point-. My uncles are...total guttersnipes-, he grunts lowly, frustrated.

Daera gives a slow blink, thinking of her cousin. Not Aegon, much less Daeron, but Aemond. She remembers his speech in the supper, the tauntly toast he gifted to her brothers. He called them Strong, in front of everybody, and she just can't believes it. He has always make sport of mocking the bastards, of course, but never before had Aemond been so blunt about it, not in front of the adults of the family. He didn't even care about Rhaenyra, his half-sister and mother of the boys, or about Daemon's presence, the one who decapitated Vaemond Velaryon for an equal mock made to his family.

No, Aemond just did it, after being dead silent and ignoring her gazes during the supper. Luke had been eating his own head since the fighting for his succession began, for he thought he did not deserve it. The last thing he needed was his uncle pointing out his alleged bastardy. Jace wasn't rooting for it either, because he himself has also been anxious about his future kingdom and how he'll be received by it.

Aemond didn't seem to care about her either, in that moment, for she had been so clear with him about how nervous and tense she was about all the visit, and the hearing, and he just seemed to ignore that too. Recklessly, her husband lifted his cup to haunt her whole family.

Daera sighs through her nose, briefly scrunching her lips.

-I am sorry for what Aemond said, at the dinner-. She mumbles from a moment to another, making Jace to blink slowly, as he keeps rubbing the rag on her arms-. He doesn't know what he's talking about-. The princess hisses, sincerely angry with him, but not in the way Jace might pressume.

-I care naught about what he has to say-, Jacaerys answers with confidence, and a calm voice-. I know who I am-, he states.

The princess presses her lips, looking at him with a tiny smile of pride, silently nodding.

Jacaerys may have got a little too tempered back in the Strong Toast, and could not hold himself of clashing his fist against the mummer's face. Two things led him to that: the disprespect towards his wife, and the disrespect towards him and his brothers.

"I have my own memories", the one-eyed dared to declare, alluding to the times he got to sleep with princess Daera, last year, before she cut off any relation and fondness of him, or that is that the lot believes. Little did they know that the "memories" prince Aemond was making reference to, were made just the past night, when she rode him passionly in the intimacy of their secret island.

However, as we are seeing the things from prince Jacaerys's eyes -for the moment- let us imagine what he must have felt when recalling that he married his cousin-sister, in the first place, to protect her and save her from the ruthless being that, tonight, Aemond assured to be.

-Sister-, he calls her in a low murmur, as he keeps cleaning her wounds with delicacy, looking at them-. We have been wed for...a year, already-. He points.

-Indeed-, she answers him along a short giggle. He breathes a quick smile, soon closing his lips with doubt, and hidden nerves.

-Regarding the- the thing that we did today, at your chambers...-, Jace starts to recall, raising his brows. Daera raises hers as well, shivering for a second when remembering that she still oughts to tell Aemond about that-. I wanted to ask you if...-he sighs-...if you feel like you took the right decision, about leaving all of your feelings for Aemond completely behind-. The prince asked, lifting his head to look at her right in the eyes.

She opens her lips, staring at him with an honest surprise.

Daera wasn't expecting that question, for this is literally the first time he asks about the matter, since they agreed to never do it again. What is her answer? A one she cannot say outloud. That she loves Aemond, from the bottom of her heart, still to this day. That she feels that this was the right decision, to keep loving him, no matter what.

However, her eyes light up with dearness as she watched the brother she was forced to wed. To be honest, she loves to feel this protected, not only by him, but by her entire family too. The wounds in her heart caused by the disagreements of those days have healed. Whilst she forgot about the despair and the endless fights during that time, she remembers their worriness and desire for her to be well, and good. They were only taking care of her, as she always does with all of them. How to ever blame them?

Curious, Jace looks at the tender smirk that formed on his wife's lips.

-You are smart, good-hearted, loyal...and quite handsome-, Daera raises her brows funnily. He instantly snickers, looking down, and she laughs as well. Jacaerys smiles softly, looking up at her again, staring at the dear glim in her eyes-...You are a good husband-, she whispered, sincere, giving him his answer.

Jace smiles, blushing, and looking down again. He has left the rag on the table, and now he softly holds her left arm, where the lesser wounds are, in his hands.

-You are a good wife...-, he whispered back, lowly, tenderly caressing her wrist with his thumbs, feeling her warm skin.

Daera smiles tinyly, looking at his hands. "I am hers, and she is mine", Jacaerys stated the day of their wedding, officiated by the religion of The Seven, looking at her eyes while saying it. It is a pity, to be honest, that he actually does not posses a good wife, for she fucks another man while being married to him, because she also married that other man and, doubtessly, she belongs to him instead.

Jace keeps rubbing his thumbs on her arms, doing it so slowly, and tenderly. The silence in the room is a comfy one, with only the burning candles to be heard. Jace raises his gaze, looking for her eyes.

They were already on him, watching him in silence. The prince, inevitably, starts to remember the things his wife did to him on the afternoon, seated on top of him, and dancing majestically in there. The memories made his brown eyes to glow dark, and his throat to gulp.

Princess Daera is an expert reading a man's desire and, with no doubt, she easily read it on her brother's gaze. Even with shame, he keeps remembering how she kissed him so wildly before. Daera blinks, feeling his caressings, and looking at him too.

Alyssa comes to her mind. Counting this night, it will be two already since her real husband impregnated her. Time is essential, and she can not lose it at all cost. She needs to do this and, well, Jace seems to want to do this.

Jacaerys clears his throat, feeling he has been staring for too long.

-Ah- uhh, let me go wash this-. The prince mumbles, letting her arm go, taking the rag, and standing up from his chair. Seeing him go, Daera blinks slowly, tilting her head to a side.

As he walks, Jace hears her chair moving, which made his steps to go slower. He almost turned around, but flinched at the moment of feeling two hands getting hold of his shoulders.

Daera makes him to turn around, breathing above his lips. Jace immediately gasps, and the rag fell on the floor, being forgotten.

-Daera-, he whispers, surprised.

She repeatedly shushes, placing her hands on his burning cheeks, and getting her face closer to him as she began to walk, pushing his body with her forwards steps. He gulps, watching at her lips, and not caring about where she was taking him.

Jace's back crashed against a wall, which took out a sudden groan from him, surprising himself. Daera extended a cocky smile, opening her eyes big, and gripping his shoulders tightly.

-You hide it so badly-, she whispers, approaching to him without shyness.

-What?-, he breathes fast, and then groans again when feeling her body starting to press against his. His manhood, all mighty, twitched at the second of feeling her.

-Your wanting of me-, she answered with a thin voice. Stiff, Jace breathes fastly, staring at her eyes-. I don't want you to hide it-. Daera cooes, directing one hand to his pants, and grabbing the between of them.

Jace immediately moaned, so shakily, almost melting right there in the wall, if it hadn't been for her other hand coming up to his jaw, grabbing it with her five fingers.

-Don't keep anything to yourself-. She asks, starting to rub the palm of her hand on his pants, feeling the tight bulk in them.

Jacaerys moans, shocked, curving his brows as he feels the magic touches on his croatch. He moans, time after time, even though they are soft and slow. Daera can't help but to gulp when she feels his cock again, for it is ridiculously big, fleshy and- fuck, strong.

She notices he moans before the lightest touches, and it amuses her to some point, for it is blatantly obvious that he has never had hands on his body, but his own, if so if he does those things. The princess, inevitably, laughs.

-You are so sensible, Jace, aren't you?-. She whispers, with her nose skimming his. Weakly, he tsks his tongue, all blushed while he moans-. You've never been touched like this, have you?-. Daera has her fun, smiling, rubbing his crotch from up to down.

-Never-, his thin voice answers, barely being able to talk, while she does it with all the causality of The Seven Kingdoms.

-I can tell, prince-. She snickers, looking down, and curving her brows when finding the bigass erection on his pants, as if it has been like that since an hour ago-. My gods, what was in that supper?-, she whispers, bemused.

-I apologize-, he whines, ashamed. Oh, but that's the last thing he should be.

-Ugh, lusty brother-. Daera sighs, taking one of his hands with one of hers-. You must never apologize for surprising a woman-, she says, pressing her other hand tighter against his trousers. Jace trembles, groaning-. And neither you must neglect her-, she funnily mumbled, placing his hand, in one of her breasts.

Her brother nearly fainted at that moment, legs trembing and chest coming up and down, mouth always open. He was stiff before, but now he's melting, feeling the warm soft hill -as he prefers to call it- in her chest. He moans, breathless, when the hand above his made him to start squeezing it, as if it was one of those toys Joffrey has, a leather ball full of water.

-Holy lords, Daera-. The young prince sighs, watching stoppless how her breast gets squeezed under her blouse. Her neckline is so shyless that he can see the flesh getting tight under his hand-. My gods...-his head tilts to a side, mesmerized by the feeling, and the sight.

-Jace-, she sighs his name, closing her eyes as she gets her lips closer to his-. I want to make you a man-, Daera murmured, sensually, over his mouth. The prince whines, speechless before her confession.

It is not the first time she would be deflowering a man.

Daera herself makes the position to give a turn, and now her back is the one against the wall. Jacaerys moans, automatically leaning against her hand and body, making her to laugh for a second. Afterwards, she grabbed his neck from behind, and ended the distance between their lips.

The prince groans when they started to kiss with no restriction. Her mouth seems to always be hungry, he has noticed, and it makes his nerves to go higher, but also his pants to go tighter. He feels her rubbings on his cock, the pulling on his hair, the licking on his lips. Seven heavens, this woman is something else.

She lets out a sharp moan, feeling his manhood poking her womanhood stoppless. Daera gulps, not wanting for lust to take over her mind, and she keeps kissing him with her head as empty as she can allows it to be.

Though Jace began to shyly squeeze her teat on his own, which sincerely took out another moan from her lips.

We can find prince Aemond, at the moment, walking around The Red Keep's bones, behind every wall and hallway, deep hidden from anyone's eyes.

Aemond went to his chambers after the talk he had with his grandfather, if it can even be called "a talk", for it was only Otto speaking about cautiousness, and reproaching, over a thousand times, his imprudent toast at the supper. He stayed on his rooms around fifteen minutes, in case someone else went looking for him, like his mother, or his own wife, Daera. Neither appeared.

So, after waiting that amount of time, he was the one who went to look for her, desperately. Aemond wrapped himself in his black leather coat, and entered the secret pasaageways of the castle, knowing his way very well around them.

He runs in circles around his mind, reviewing time after time what he is going to say to her. They have to talk about Vaemond Velaryon, his speech at dinner -he doesn't expect less-, why she was covered in blood this morning, and...Alyssa.

A moan. Aemond hears a moan. From a moment to another.

The prince stops short, his entire body suddenly tensing. Blinkless, he looks around with his big eye, feeling how his heart halted its beating within a second. That moan, easily recognizable for him, was Daera's.

It is now that the prince is starting to hear those sounds around him and, after a quick blink, he realized they were coming from back in the hallway, from one of the many rooms he is walking behind of. A snap after this realization, he hears another moan, but this one was male. Weak and pathetic.

Aemond loses no time. He makes no slow dramatic move. No. He firmly turned around, and walked with big long steps towards the place he was hearing those sounds from. Sadly, the closer he got, the more his body began to lose its steadiness, and began to shake entirely.

He was approaching to Jace's chambers, he noticed. The light of candles started to slightly reach his face as he walked closer to a wall of tiny holes, rhombus shaped. Through the infinity of holes, he could see a figure was leaning against it. No. Two figures. One of them of...of silver curly mane.

Aemond's legs failed for a brief second, and his eye, never blinking, opened bigger than ever. His heart broke, and his ears whistled with sharpness. The prince opens both his hands, placing them in the wall as he sees through it with a teary gaze, and an open mouth.

Right at the other side of the wall in which The One-Eyed Prince placed his hands in, princess Daera, his wife, shares a wild deep kiss with prince Jacaerys, her husband, while she makes him to grab her breasts. One of her hands is moving, right on his pants, touching him. They are both moaning, and they are both...looked at by him.

Aemond's blood stops flowing through his body, his head spins, and he becomes dizzy. He gets nauseous, it gives him a headache. His heart breaks.

He doesn't know what is happening, he feels helpless, and betrayed. What is betrayal, if not the cradle where rage and fury its born? What is rage, if not what he is the owner of, right now? What is fury, if not what blinds a man's eyes, and clouds his mind?

Bitter tears come up to his only eye. And, with them, the unleashing of his doom.

Not even with the slightest idea of her husband being right behind her, Daera keeps moaning, and keeps touching Jace with no shyness. The boy is feeling so good, flinching and groaning with every touch, whining when she bites his lips.

Everything would have turned out perfect, for her. She would have bed Jacaerys, and the security of her upcoming child would have been secured forever. But, alas, it seems that none of it was truly meant to be.

After another moan from the young prince, a sharp thud shook the chambers, suddenly. The wall where they were kissing and touching trembled abruptly, as if the strongest lightning had struck it, as if the maddest fists had lashed out at it in a single, but extremely violent punch.

-Oh!-, Jacaerys immediately flinches, separating from her lips. Daera jumped as well, grunting, for she felt the wall shaking right behind her head, hurting her.

-What the fuck?!-, she reacts with confusion, turning her gaze to look at the wall.

-What was that?-. Jace asks, startled, looking all around. His wife, on the other hand, fixed her eyes on the rhombus shaped holes-. Is the earth shaking?-, he fears, worried.

Daera's blood started to get cold, in the baddest of ways, and the saliva in her mouth dried all up. That stroke came from the secret passageways, she is sure, for she has walked through them a thousand times, right behind this very chamber. The princess thinks, telling to herself that there is only one more person who customs the secret passageways as much as she does.

Her real husband.

-Oh-, a thin squeal leaves her throat, and her legs started to shake-. Oh no, no!-. She weakly whispers, curving her brows, and then suddenly pushing Jacaerys away from her.

-Daera!-, he calls-. Are you alright? What is it?!-. He asks, worried, grabbing her shoulders.

Daera squeaks, getting his hands off her, and walking away from the wall, and from him, with a heavy uncontrolled breathing. She is pale, as far as possible, and her eyes filled with fear and anxiety.

-Daera!-, Jace insists, looking at her back.

-I- I must leave-. Her throat trembles as she speaks, and grabs it with nerves, lightly squeezing it.

Aemond saw us. Aemond saw us. Aemond saw me.

-I can't-, she whispers, voiceless, shaking her head.

-What?-. Jace curves his brows, not understanding anything.

In that very moment, a loud wild roar of a dragon shakes the wholeness of King's Landing. The Queen of All Dragons caused the fuss, as she opened her mouth big with rage and fury, letting out a great long squeal of distress.

Princess Daera opens her eyes big, and tears began to reach them as her body quickly ran towards the balcony of the chambers. Daera came out within a second, almost slipping out, but not caring, and immediately looking up at the sky.

Vhagar took off from the beach with angry fast flappings, quickly raising powerfully in the skies, and rapidly getting lost into the multiple grey clouds of the night.

-No-. Breathless, the princess Daera whined.

She turned around, and within a second she flee the chambers of her husband with no proper explanation. Jacaerys stood at the middle of his rooms in total shock, speechless, looking at the open door she left.

Still in Maegor's Holdfast, Daera quickly arrived to her apartments, closing the door and locking it while sobbing, mumbling a thousand nonsenses with extreme angst, feeling a heavy weight on her chest, and all of her body.

Without thinking it twice, the princess goes into the secret passageways, running as fastly as she can, not even allowing herself to breath. Her heart is beating so quick, and her calm from before is only a memory now, haunted by fears and worries. She goes through the passageways like a fish on water or, better said, like a dragon on the sky.

And, speking of such...

Daera had never reached the beach so quickly, but under this trying circunstances, she forced herself to do so, and she very much did, not caring about her breathing, or bare feet. She doesn't stops at any second, running wild and fast, making the sand to fade in the night's breeze as her soul runs savagely on it.

The Golden Ray is now alone at the bay, not having his usual companion, Vhagar, sleeping at his side anymore. Nevertheless, he is restless as well, and has been growling and shrieking anxiously since a few minutes now.

When Kalistrox saw his rider finally making act of presence in the beach, desperately running towards him, he let out a roar and, with hurry, approached towards her while shaking his golden long neck. At the same time, he lowered one of his wings to the ground, quickly asking her to jump in.

-Kalistrox!-. She names him with a squeal, not waiting anything to walk up his strong golden scales, reaching her saddle with teary eyes-. Fucking hells, fuck, fuck!-, her voice breaks as she sits down.

The dragon growls with restlessness and concern, shaking his neck again.

-Sovēs! [ Fly! ]-, the princess quickly commanded, holding tight to her saddle.

Kalistrox shows all of his long sharp teeth when he flapped his huge wings and, with a single flap, lifted all of his big body from the ground, taking off within a second. All the sand around was abruptly thrown against the black stone rocks of the surroundings. Some of that sand has been burned, since this morning.

Daera's chest comes up and down endlessly, while her eyes watered even more when the wind started to tickle them. She gulps, holding her saddle tight, convincing herself that everything will be alright, that she knows how to deal with Aemond. It is not, at all, the first time.

Kalistrox growls, going swiftly and quickly.

■ ■ ■

Lovers Island enjoys starry clear skies, at the moment, along a fresh tender breeze caressing the seas around, and the white sand of the island itseld. The palm trees are calmed, and the stone mountains at ease.

It is beyond a lovely night, definetely prettier than the past one, where it rained and flashed until dawn.

It's almost ironic, to not say cruel, for the latter ugly night of Lovers Island will turn out to be a far better one than this. We soon shall know why.

Prince Aemond is kneeled in the floors of the hut he and his wife made with their own hands. Right in front of him, barely some centimeters away, the fireplace burns with heat and life. A black cooking pot is placed on the fire and, in it, a white liquid already boils.

The prince is patch-less, and his blue sapphire reflects the fire on it. Said fire, at the same time, shines over the crystal tears he is endlessly crying. Aemond weeps with sorrow, looking at the pot as his body flinches, time after time, in the middle of his cry. His heart weights too much, as does his mind, thinking a thousand thoughts at once.

His head, how cruel it is, makes him repeat the scene of Jacaerys and Daera kissing against that wall, both of them moaning, and touching the other. No matter how much he repeats it in his memories, the prince still doesn't gets it.

Why? is a question constantly yelled in his thoughts. Why? Why? Why would she do this? Why would she be allowing herself to be touched by him? Why has this day go from bad, to merciless? Why him? Why me, to wield all this misery?

The sound of loud flapping reaches his ears, causing him to slowly raise his head. The prince gulps, knowing that Vhagar, after landing him in the island, immediately took off again, too stressed by his own stressed. His dragoness is away, he can feel, and so that only leaves one possible dragon arriving at the shores of the secret place.

The One-Eyed Prince opened the door of the hut with a shaky punch, leaving it wide opened as he walked outside with trembling legs, sobbing with distress. Though the island is totally dark, the fireplace of the insides lighted enough the surroundings.

The dragon arriving is no one but The Golden Ray, who landed with quickness, harshly clawing his paws to the sand. Aemond watches this with his chest coming up and down, and his tears only down.

When Kalistrox lowered his neck, the prince could see his rider weeping with anguish, hurriedly coming off her saddle. She, when seeing him too, sped up all her moves even more.

-Aemond-, she gasps as she walks down her dragon's wing-. Aemond, my love!-. Breathless, she starts running to him, barefoot.

Aemond can't even talk, crying just too hard, though he barely is making any sound. He shakes his head and presses his lips, closing his eye and taking a step back, not even wanting to look at her when remembering, again, Jace's hand on her body.

As his rider ran in the sand, Kalistrox growled, and raised from it with a big long flap, heading towards the skies while his huge heart beats with discomfort.

-I can explain it!-. The breathless princess says as she is getting closer to the hut's light. Her husband, red-faced, whimpers with weakness, looking down-. I was going to tell you, Aemond, I swear! This is not what it looks like!-, her crying voice promises, and she sighs shakily, approaching more to him-. My love-. She cooes, going to hold his cheeks.

But before her fingertips would do their usual magic on the prince's skin, this one hissed, and growled with pain, stepping away from her touch.

-You touched him!-, Aemond revealed to have a shaky broken voice, sharper than ever, making Daera's lungs to go breathless, and her brows to curve-. You kissed him, you FUCKED HIM!-, he yelled with despair, opening big his red teary eye.

-No no no, I didn't, I was going to!-. She immediately denies, giving him a broken smile. Aemond gasps, speechless-. I MEAN, NO- I was going to, yes, but- but! Let me explain myself! I swear this makes sense!-, Daera desperately stutters, shaking her head from side to side.

-During all this year, you have been...-, he starts to babble, bemused, feeling his legs failing. She gasps, quickly raising her brows-, you've been fucking your bast-

-I haven't!-. Daera steadfastly interrupted him, taking a step towards him, lifting her head to look at his eye-. Listen to me, Aemond, listen!-. She walks even closer, and her husband sobs, with his throat afflicted, looking at her with despair bathing on his tears-. I was going to tell you, and I was going to do it, yes-. The princess sighs with tiredness, lifting her brows-...For us-, she weakly whispers.

The prince blinks hugely, getting even more scared now, and more lost. Daera tsks her tongue and, afterwards, grabbed both his hands, taking them to her body. Then, they ended up on her belly, feeling it extreme warmness.

Both of them stare at each other. She, with softness. He, with fear.

-For our family-, the princess whispered, heartily. Her husband froze-. I must bed Jace, Aemond, to secure for me a prudent pregnancy...and the safeness of our daughter, or son-. Daera raises her brows, feeling his static fingers on her belly. Inevitably, she gulps, desperated for him to show any reaction-. I ain't doing it for desire!-, she quickly points, honest-. I am doing it for my love for you...and my love for our child-. She mutters with sincerity, and dearness, gripping his hands.

Up until this moment, Aemond had always believed that the worst wrong ever done to him was the merciless mutilation he suffered in the hands of the Strong bastards. Now, when the love of his life has shamelessly confessed to be completely willing to sleep with one of the bastards, to fool him into believing he sired her child, Aemond's believings have changed.

Daera furrows her brows, and her eyes flicker when she feels Aemond's hands departing abruptly from her belly, and sees his body trembling when he gasped in a desperate search of air.

-Aemond-. She names, worried.

The tears began to burn his skin, and the realization his mind. The prince realizes that his wife has known. During all this time. She has known he was to sire a bastard.

-If we could just...go inside-. Daera softly whispers, approaching to him-. We can talk it better in there, its freezing out here-. She says, raising her brows, and seeing him trembling-. I can cook you some sou-

-WHO ARE YOU?!-. Aemond yelled with fury and a shaky throat, abruptly turning to look at her with mad eyes.

Daera freezes in that moment, shocked, opening her eyes big. A roar was heard from Kalistrox, in the skies about. Her heart starts to pound with fear, and confusion. Who is she? What does that even means? How dares he?

-All- all these years! All the shit I have told you that has been done to me! Everything I have said to you!-. Her husband starts to shout, his usual soft voice turned into a sharp raspy one, that of a desperate man-. YOU know how much I have suffered, YOU know everything that has been plucked away from me! And...-, Aemond shakes, as his tears soak the sand below-, AND YOU WANT TO GIVE ME A BASTARD?!-. The prince nearly kneeled when he screamed that, pointing at himself furiously.

Daera's body tremble, but her eyes remain as sober as possible. Breath, she tells herself. It is not the first time dealing with her husband's mindset.

-I carry no bastard-. She simply denies, almost whispering. Aemond breathes fastly in front of her, if he is breathing at all-. You are married to me, and I am married to you. And I will give you a fucking proper child, Aemond-. Her harsh voice states.

-You just said you MUST fuck the wastrel so that no one know I AM the real father of it!-. Aemond reminded with a loud tone, opening his eye big-. THAT, in your belly, IS A BASTARD !-. He heartlessly pointed at her.

Matters to say, it is not either Aemond's first time messing with his wife's mindset. Much she kept herself from exploding too. Until now.

-WHAT THE FUCK IS YOU PROBLEM?!-. Daera shouted with rage. More tears gather in her purple eyes, which are looking at him with hurt and bemusement-. THIS...!-, she grabs her belly with a trembling hand-, is a child! MY child!-. The princess sobs as she walks closer to him, and he shakes his head, feeling it twirling-. Ours!-. Her voice whimpers with despair, curving her brows.

-Ow, fucking hells, DAERA!-. The prince roared desperately, closing his eye and stepping away from her, grabbing his head in the middle of his sobs.

-Yes, I- WE will have to pretend that the babe is Jace's! I am sorry! I too wish things would be different, Aemond, believe me that I do!-. She screams with a broken angry heart, looking for his gaze-. But THIS is our reality, the reality in which we agreed to have a child! WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU EXPECTING?!-, Daera yelled loudly, hurting her throat when doing so, wanting him to see the truth.

Aemond opened his mouth, as if he has been about to scream, but air left his lungs, and he whined with weakness, closing his eye, and squeezing his face with his hands under the tearful, upset gaze of his worried wife.

-I have been stupid...-, the prince weeps with shame-, fooled by the fake dream that I could be a father-, he confesses, sinked in sorrow.

-No, no-. Daera sobs, curving her sweaty brows as she hears Kalistrox's strong flappings from the sky-. You can be, Aemond, you can be a parent-. The princess whines, tired, slowly approaching to him-. We can...despite the circunstances-, Daera whispered, looking at the tears hanging on his pointy jaw-...We wouldn't be the first ones-. She brokenly smiles, with hope.

However, her husband brokenly sobbed, and turned his face to look at her, with glum.

-Who are you?-. He repeats, once again, not believing this is his Daera speaking.

His Daera's heart sinked deeper on her chest.

-I AM YOUR FUCKING WIFE!-. She yelled with pain and despair. He keeps treating her like she is insane, like she is the worst person in the world, when all she has done is been the best companion to him, the best listener and comforter. She only wants but a child of him, the purest demonstration of their love. Why is he treating her like this, then? Heartless-. Stop looking at me like that!-. Daera sobbed with weakness, punching his chest with her trembling hands-. I am your wife!-, she repeats, hurted.

-And I love you-, he cries, painful, shaking his head-. But now I am seeing, wife, clearer than ever...-. Aemond covers his mouth for a second, sobing on his hand-...that you indeed are one of them-, the prince declares.

-"Them" who?!-. Daera roars, pushing him again by the chest.

-The law breakers!-. Aemond roars back, seeing blurry due to all of his tears. His wife sighs, breathless, nearly confused, looking at his eye-. You are your father's daughter, no doubt!-, he scoffs, bemused-. Your uncle was coldly murdered today for telling the truth and you- you- you- YOU JUST DON'T CARE!-. The prince accuses with a loud desperate roar, which echoed along the whole island.

Kalistrox roared, menacing, and within a second, Daera did so too.

-HE brought that to his fucking self!-. She yells with her eyes big open, not doubting of her words, remembering all the insults towards her family-. He was reckless!-, she hisses.

-HE WAS TRYING TO SAVE HIS HOUSE!-. Aemond screams, and she scoffs, blinkless-. A house you make fucking part of!! How can you be so cruel?!-, the prince yells, soaked in tears of despondent.

-It is not cruel to protect my family, nor is defending it!-. She instantly defends herself, steady, taking a step forwards-. And if some cunt has to die for that to be achieved, then the cunt must fucking burn!-. Daera roars with fierceness, tilting her head to a side.

Aemond opens his mouth, speechless, his heart almost stopping. Daera sees that face of him, and laughs.

-Ow please, PLEASE, spare the fucking act, husband!-. She hissed from a moment to another, making him to flinch-. Am I my father's daughter? Very well, then you are your mother's fucking son!-. The princess spat her words with poison and quickness, not taking any breath-. Little you talk about your stupid brother! That bloody useless rapist!-. She roars, shaking the arms in where she has the long ugly wounds the same rapist left in her-. Little you talk of the craven your mother is, hiding beneath her cloak all of her son's monstrosities, as the coward she is!-. The princess grunts with taunt and no shame, clenching her teeth.

In that moment, the prince became truly outraged.

-SHUT UP!-. He shouted, as spoiled as his older brother, and his wife laughed once again, taunting him, proving her point. He will not allow it-. You have no right!!-, Aemond hisses, pointing at her, and not even giving her a chance to speak-. STOP DISRESPECTING MY MOM, STOP MOCKING MY RELIGION! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!-. He starts to scream as wild as a peasant on a brothel. His wife's face truly started to get sour, breathing everytime faster before all of his screams to her-. STOP FEELING SO FUCKING ENTITLED TO FUCKING EVERYTHING!-, Aemond roared with madness.

-HOW DARE YOU COMPLAIN TO ME, WHEN IT WAS YOU WHO DID YOUR FUCKING SHOW AT THE FUCKING DINNER, YOU RECKLESS IDIOT?!-. Daera exploded as madly as him, hissing with no breath and, once again, pushing him, now harsher than before. Aemond grunts, closing his fists at the sides of his body-. JESTING ABOUT OUR MARRIAGE, INSULTING MY BROTHERS! YOU-

-AND HERE WE GO, defending them again!-. Aemond laughs with no fun, just as she did before.

-"Strong boys"?! Are you fucking shitting me, Aemond?!-. Daera moves her head from side to side, bemused-. Do you know what my father would have done to you?!-, she asks, scared and angry.

-Daera- FUCK!-. The prince yells, raged, feeling his whole body trembling. The fury caused by hearing Daera defending the brats is one that is beyond compare-. That is the problem, that something happens to the ones that say the bloody truth!-. Aemond roars, filled of despair-. They have you...as their fucking marionette, defending the indefensible-. He taunts with poison.

-Shut the fuck up, Aemond-. She warns, raising her brows. His blood only boils hotter.

-No but they deserve so much more of what I said...That fucking whore's bastards-. Aemond spits his words, narrowing his eye, and making his wife to shiver strongly-. I...-, he shakes his head-...I want to set them on fire-. He whispered.

-Aemond-, she gags, breathless-. Take that back-. The princess mumbles, not blinking once, feeling her heart stopping before the nightmare that flashes in front of her eyes.

He, though, dreams with that nightmare to be true.

-I want to crash Jace's skull, with Ser Criston's morningstar-. Aemond whispers, filled with poison, looking at her. Daera gasps, curving her brows, horrified-. I want to collect everything they owe me-. The prince assures.

-I DARE YOU!-, she shakes with rage and fear, lifting up her brows. She, then, wondered herself why she is feeling that much fear? Does she...believes him capable?

-I want to take an eye out of Luke's face-, Aemond goes whispering, singing, almost smiling to himself while his wife gasps stopless, choking with her own saliva.

-If you put a hand in him...!-, she cries, covering her mouth while the tears pass it.

-Every time I see him, Daera, I just wished I was maiming him until blindness, to leave him so emaciated that not even a sapphire would fits there...-This was his calmest tone of the night, yet so bone-chilling, and gross.

-WHO ARE YOU?!-. The princess screamed, attacking him with his own raving question. That made Aemond's tears to fall faster, and his gaze to fill with surprise-. You- YOU LIVE FOR VENGEANCE! Son of a bitch, YOU LIVE WITH HATE!-, she painly accuses.

-AND YOU WITHOUT HONOR!-, he accuses her back, crying endlessly.

-Well that is how you married me!-. Daera points with her shaky voice. Her throat aches, as well as her chest-. And how I married you as well!-, she sniffs her nose, shaking-. Like it or not, that is how we will have our child, Aemond-. She states, weak but firm, lifting her sweaty brows.

Aemond sobs, staring at the love of his life with sourness, exhaustion...and pity.

-No-, he thinly whispers, starting to take some steps back-...No we won't-. The prince murmurs, turning around, and going into the hut, without announcement.

The princess Daera stays in the same place, shaking, sobing, confused. Her mind is empty, and her heart heavy. The heat of the discussion being so suddenly interrupted left her with no thoughts. She just trembles, alone in there.

Her dragon, Kalistrox, keeps flying around the skies of the island with similar feelings. To be honest, The Golden Ray is rather anxious. He is more than familiar with the discussions his rider has with her husband, they are more than usual. However, this one feels entirely different, so different that he just wants for his dearest to climb on the saddle, to take her away from here. Her husband, familiar to him as well, is acting extremely weird. And he doesn't like it. And where is even Vhagar, in all of this, the man's dragon? Far from his stress and madness, he'd wager.

Vhagar did good in flying away, for she didn't witness what is about to happen. Kalistrox, on the other hand -the princess's poor golden boy-, had no idea of what was to come.

After some moments, Aemond walks out of the hut again. He goes with wary slow steps, his teary gaze down, his thin lips pressed. And a steaming cup on his hands.

Daera's legs trembled within the second.

-No-, the princess says, voiceless-. No, Aemond-. She takes a step back, afflicted.

The prince stops in front of her, still looking down, not having the strength to look at her eyes. He opens his dry trembling lips, not breathing through them.

-Drink it-. He whispered, with his voice broken.

-No, no! No, please!-. In that moment, the princess's whole spirit breaks in two, as well as her soul and heart did-. No, no!-. Her throat aches.

Aemond gulps, handing her the cup. Handing her the Moon Tea.

-PLEASE!-. Daera fell on her knees when she shrieked, not holding herself anymore, not even being able to breath properly anymore-. I want to have my child! I want to have my child!-, she cries brokenly, placing her hands in the sand, and gripping it with force.

The prince gulps, once again, keeping every sound for himself, listening to his wife's cry as his heart, too, breaks in a million pieces. But he must do this. She must.

Aemond kneels as well, in front of her, so mechanically, handing her the cup again, pressing his shaking lips. Breathless, Daera looks at him, with a pain and sorrow greatest than any.

And when she finds him there, with that cursed drink, and those sad but "duty" eyes, she let out a sharp desperate shriek, taking the cup, and throwing it very far away from them.

-NO!-, she yelled.

The cup flew in the air until crashing against a rock from the beach. All the Moon Tea ended up in The Narrow Sea, quickly swimming away from all the despair and anguish of that island.

Aemond just blinked, and stood up, walking back to the hut again. From there, he heard his wife weeping, screaming and pleading from the sand with no end. The prince stumbled on his way, and leaned his forehead against a wall, letting out a silent sorrowful cry, grabbing his own chest with desperation, feeling it so heavy, and shattered.

-Please don't make me do it! Don't make me do it, Aemond, PLEASE! PLEASE, I AM BEGGING YOU!-. Princess Daera had never cried so loudly, so broken and ugly, twitching in the sand as she finds no scape from this feeling.

She had never pleaded before.

-...You allowed me to get you with child, knowing what that would mean...-. Aemond's weak voice gets closer again, and she can hear his steps while she cries and yells-...and you didin't tell me-. He stated, exhausted.

-The- THE BABE WOULD LOOK LIKE ME!-. Daera lifted up her face with despair, and a last hope, clinging to his legs when having him in front of her. Aemond stands stiff, with a new steaming cup in his hands-. I swear it- she- she would look only and just like me! Velaryon genes are stronger! Brown skin, curly hair- I SWEAR IT, AEMOND, PLEASE!-. The princess cries with a lump in her throat, feeling almost unable to talk. His lips tremble, while he watches her sobing weak wife from above-. PLEASE!-, she weeps and whines-. No one will know!-, Daera promises.

-I will!-. Aemond's shaky crying voice answered her. His tears are falling on her cheeks, mixing with her own-. And I- and I have the right to ask you this, because I didn't know, Daera, I didn't! And- and I am...!-. He was about to apologize, but then considered it useless-. I want children, NOT BASTARDS!-. The prince stated, strongly closing his eye.

With that, the princess definitely felt any hope leaving her body. Helpless, she is. Has she been the fool, then, dreaming about this? Was she so wrong, as her husband points her to be...for wanting a family of her own? For wanting...his family?

With the weakest will of the Seven Kingdoms, Daera took the cup from his hands, with her own, trembling. She whines shakily as she gets the cup near to her lips, her dry tired lips. Aemond watches her with endless tears, mouth fully closed.

-Alyssa...-, the saddest weep left her soul. And then, she began to drink it all.

When he started to hear all the gulps, and when he heard his daughter's name, Aemond trembled, and he abruptly turned around, walking long steps away from her.

-Aemond!-, her broken voice calls his name. He ignored it.

He covered his face with both his hands, burying himself in silence, only hearing the endless cries and whines his wife is yelling to the skies when she takes breath to keep drinking the tea. Cries and whines from her he ignored, for the first time ever, for four reasons.

He is convinced this is the right thing to do. He resents the image of her and Jacaerys. He has been dumbly fooled into this. He has all the right to regret it.

Ow, Aemond...when you look back at this night, and recall your own claimings and words, how great the price will be to see...that you were wrong.

A sound brought him out of his thoughts. Another cup, breaking again. The prince turns around, tiredly and slowly, just to find the cup all broken in the sand, with not one drop of tea left in it. She drank it all.

And when he looks upper, his remaining breath left him before the surprise of seeing Kalistrox back in land again, purring worrily towards his rider as she, sobbing, walks to him, almost crawling.

-...Dae-Daera?-. The prince calls, voiceless, slowly turning around.

In the middle of thin weeps, Daera is nearly dragging herself in the sand, holding her own belly while she approaches to her dragon with weak steps. Tired, heart-broken, and now child-less, the princess feels she is melting into the ground with every step she takes.

-Kalistrox-, she weakly calls, looking at him beyond the heavy tears on her eyes. Her golden sweetheart purrs with sorrow, approaching in the sand to make her walk less.

-Daera!-. Her husband calls her with hurry, and a shaky voice, as he turns around, and begins to walk towards her with quickness.

Ignoring him completely, Daera sobs as she climbs Kalistrox's wings up, feeling his scales poking against her bare feet, but she endures it with no pain, already too hurted anyways. She sniffes her nose, reaching her saddle as the tears get her dragon's back wet.

-Daera, no, wait!-. Aemond starts to run when he sees her taking seat-. Daera!-, he tried to reach her.

But The Golden Ray is a jealous dragon, deeply bonded to his rider, and so within a second he faced the prince with his mouth open and a sharp broken roar coming out of it, menacing and harsh, seriously warning him to back off just with the sight of his long shap teeth, and the stains of blood and ash in them.

Shaking, Aemond gasped and walked back with his throat afflicted, seeing his wife unfazed by the menace of her dragon towards her husband. Oblivious to it, she kept crying, and held her saddle tighter.

-Don't leave me alone, please, we need to talk this!-. Aemond insists with despair, and then the golden dragon started to crawl in the sand with quickness, getting ready to take off-. No no, NO, DAERA, DON'T LEAVE!-. He pleads desperately, opening his eye big, and walking backwards-. WE NEED TO TALK IT!-, he begged, heart-broken.

But the princess is too weak at the moment, and unfamiliar to her husband's latter acts of cruelness. Is she to fault, by desiring to leave their talk for later? She is not.

She turns around her face, looking at him for the last time. His skin is red, his eye desperated, his sapphire sad, his lips trembling, his voice begging, his body exhausted, his mind blinded. His all...driven by resentment.

-DAERA!-, she heard, lastly, a cry from him.

Afterwards, Kalistrox took off the island, and within a second he rised in the skies with strong flappings, and heavy-hearted growls, listening to the unstoppable cry of the girl on his back.

That left prince Aemond by himself, in Lovers Island.

He fell on his knees when the golden dragon disappeared from the sight of his only eye. In him, a broken cry lashed out from the bottom of his soul. His fists started to punch the sand, time after time, crying two names to the skies.

Daera, and Alyssa.

He doesn't know how many time he stayed whining in there. He doesn't count how many tears he cried, for that would be impossible. He doesn't know how many curses he threw against the bastards, nor how many prayings he yelled to the gods.

One thing is for sure. Prince Aemond Targaryen fell in the sand, fainted by exhaustion. And when he woke up, he woke up in a new world.

One of war.

■ ■ ■

Again, this night has been too long.

It has been barely two hours since the supper ended, and perhaps a little less. The ship of Princess Rhaenyra and her family is already being prepped in Blackwater Bay, for they are leaving within an hour, back to their dear home, Dragonstone.

The princess Helaena is at a room not proper of hers. She is in Daera's chambers, quietly seated on her bed, expecting for her cousin's arrival while she plays with her fingers, silent, always looking around.

The children, Jahaerys and Jahaera, are with their grandmother in her apartments. Queen Alicent is reading them their usual night time tale, tenderly rocking them in her arms as she reads to them. Afterwards, she will put them to bed, and then go to attend to her husband's own night rutine, for he is being bathed, at the moment, by the masesters.

Helaena, as we know, usually makes company to her children while they are with their grandma. But, in this night, after the supper, she feels that something weird is happening, or will happen. Either way, she came to Daera's chambers, for something tells her that it has to do with her and, besides, they haven't talked in the whole long day.

When the secret doorway of the room is suddenly open, Helaena jumped in the bed, immediately turning to look at there. She was not expecting, at all, to find Daera arriving with such a glum casted on her. Her cousin walked inside in the middle of a crying that it seems it has lasted years, and with steps so weak that it seems she is about to faint.

Helaena's eyed dyes of concern. She didn't wait a second to stand up and quickly run towards her, curving her brows, and looking at her sweaty ones.

-Daera-, she names with worries while she approaches. Then, she notices the long red wounds that are placed in both her arms-. Oh- oh Daera!-, the princess gasps, nearing even quicker to her.

Daera mouthed no word and, instead, she let her body fell into her cousin's arms, not holding herself any longer. Helaena wept with sorrow, instantly hugging her into her arms as tightly as possible, grasping to her as if she was tearing apart, whispering her name a thousand times.

-Daera, Daera, ow Daera...-. The older princess murmurs as she hugs her. Daera cries in her chest with no stop, sinked in pain, hugging her waist tightly, not having the strength to talk.

Helaena asked nothing. She grabed her hands, and started to guide her towards the bed. Daera walked with weariness, but was always held by her cousin's hands, which gave them the strength enough to reach her mattress. When arriving to it, both princesses threw themselves in.

They ended up face to face, with the hands of one in the back of the other, keeping close. Red-faced, Helaena watches Daera's so hurted expression. She is in a true deep pain, which worries her endlessly. Too bad with words, she tries to calm her instead by caressing her hair, doing it as softly as an angel would.

Weakly, Daera blinks in the middle of her weep, noticing Helaena's light tears, which came up to her eyes at the moment of seeing her crying. The brown skinned princess sighs, weary.

-Helaena...-she whispers lowly, placing a hand behind her head, to cup it with her five fingers. The older princess, blinkless, stares at her eyes with her lips open, attentive-. You...-, Daera gulps, ashamed-...you will be aunt no more...-. She, then, confesses, falling in a greater pain.

When the news reached Helaena's ears, the princess didn't hold long a broken sob scaped her mouth, one of confussion and sadness. And not too long after, she was crying as desperately as her cousin, the both of them joining the other on weak whines and sour tears, almost like being one.

■ ■ ■

In Flea Bottom, the night life is at its peak. The streets are filled with people who dance, fight, eat and fuck. The music is loud, as well as the laughs and the screams.

People walk all around from one place to another, doing good things, doing what things, who knows. Between all of them, the prince Aegon Targaryen goes with tired eyes, a drunk smile, a bottle of ale on his hand, and a paramour's hand on the other, but we are not to attend to his matters right now.

At The House of The Roses, in The Street of Silk, moans and grunts of full pleassure go through all the walls of the fine establishment, for the whores are giving to the lords and peasants what they live -and pay- for: cunts.

Dyana heartily ignores so much sound as much as she can. In her private room, she covers her face with her pillow, trying to mute the disgusting sounds that are coming from everywhere. Eternally thankful, though, she is for not being among them.

The mistress of the place, Tulia, was true to her word to the princess. No man has touched not even seen the young girl, Dyana, and she has been properly fed since then as well.

Some knocks from the door turned to be louder than the moans, so the girl immediately hears them, lightly furrowing her brows. Shy, she walks towards her door, not knowing who might be on the other side. For a moment, her mind tricked her into think it was prince Aegon, making her to shiver.

-Who is it?!-. She asks, with a nervous tone.

-We come on the behald of Princess Daera Targaryen, who has asked for your presence at the royal harbour!-. The firm voice of a man answered her from the other side.

Dyana blinks slowly, moveless. She gulps, and speaks again.

-Which is the secret word?-. She asks, firmly.

The princess and the girl, indeed, arranged to have a secret passcode for when the former sends her guards to look for her. A word that only the princess herself could have said to the guards, meaning that they were truly hers.

The man on the other side sighed tiredly, and then he spoke.

-Cunny-, he said with shame.

In that moment, Dyana's eyes lighted up with the greatest of happiness and trusts, immediately opening the doors with a surprised chuckle of relief.

And so, the Lord Commander of the City Watch, Ser Harrold Westerling, gives her a soft sided smile.

It was a matter of time until Dyana was walking out of that brothel with only a small bag carrying her few belongings. The girl walked out with a shiny smile on her face, and four guards of Targaryen armours followed her every step with firmness, along the Lord Commander.

This is being watched at, from a very safe distance, by a pair of very cautious and curious eyes. A thin tall lady of exotic eyes, beautiful face, and a long white gown, looks at the girl being scorted by those royal guards. The happiness on her face doesn't have a price.

Our mysterious lady, The White Worm, narrows her eyes as she analyzes the girl's departure.

-An this all orchestrated by The Dragon's Goodness herself then, is it?-. The exotic accent in her voice asks with interest.

-Yes, my lady...-. The voice of another woman answers behind her.

-And the bodies of those three?-. She tilts her head to a side.

-...There is burned sand in the beach, my lady-. She is answered.

The White Worm furrows her lips into a very tiny smirk, and her eyes narrowed with curiosity, silently nodding.

■ ■ ■

Not too long after, two wheelhouses were coming out of The Red Keep. In one, go the servants and midwives that had joined princess Rhaenyra from Dragonstone. In the other, the princess goes with the lot of her family.

The sky is at its darkest color of the night, for the dawn is still hours away.

The whole family looks exhausted and weary, and they are not to blame, for this two days in the capital definitely were some busy and tiring ones. They are all sleepy, to be honest, though Joffrey and the twins are straight out snoring, shameless.

Before leaving, the kids only said their goodbyes to their grandma, the princess Rhaenys, who would be staying another day in The Keep. The older sister as well kissed goodbye princess Helaena and her godschildren, promising them to be back within two days.

As a matter of fact, princess Daera was actually asked -dearly by Helaena, and politely by Alicent- to simply stay in the castle instead of going back to Dragonstone just to return so instantly, to not tire herself. However, the princess kindly refused the offer, alleging that she wanted to see her family to arrive well. This is a half truth, for she also wants at least those days to be by herself, aparted from Aemond, to think about all the things she has to think of, and to have her sorrows in the privacy of her true home. She will be returning with Rhaenyra, and then she'll treat with Aemond, already with a cold head.

In the royal carriage, Daemon rocks his son, Aegon, with calm, having his eyes closed. Rhaena's head is on Luke's shoulder, resting in there, and he is with his head on hers, also reclined in her. Rhaenyra has Baela's head near her chest, where she calmly breathes, and in Baela's legs Joffrey sleeps with comfort. Jace, slouched, has his arms crossed, and at his side, Daera has Viserys hugged to her chest, rocking him.

The whole family is silent, at the moment, desiring to be abed already. Daera wears a long-sleeved blouse, rare of her, but because she is hiding the wounds of her arms. Her eyes are lost in some blank point, and her eyes shows nothing but dejection. With her heart broken, and an empty belly, the princess's mind bathes in sadness. She can't take Aemond's words and actions out of her head.

Without her knowledge, Jace is constantly eyeing her, silent and shy. He still has no clue of what happened, before in his chambers, when lust suddenly left her, and she became all histeric, just to then leave running. When he saw her again, when all the family gathered to leave, she gave him nothing but a crooked smile and a soft caress in his back. No explanation. And now he sees a sad glim on his wife's eyes, which has him deeply worried, and confused.

In one moment of the trip, Rhaenyra inhales deeply through her nose, raising her brows.

-I think it will be the best for the babes to go in the ship-. She informs, caressing one of Baela's hand-. The night is too cold, for me to take them in Syrax-. The princess adds, and her husband nods in silence, agreeing-...I shall go with them-, she sighs with a little smile, eyeing her twins.

-We'll enjoy your company-, Rhaena smiles at her. She'll be returning home in the ship as well, not in Caraxes's back with her father, as she arrived before.

After hearing his mom, Luke gives slow blinks, thoughtful. He thinks about how, now without a doubt, he'll be the future Lord of The Tides, successor of his grandsire, the legendary Sea Snake. If he wants to fill his shoes, even though he believes he can't, he has to start with something.

-I shall go in the ship as well-. Lucerys informs, surprising most. Daera got out of her thoughts immediately, furrowing her brows a little.

-Very well then-, his mother agrees with a side smile.

-Are you certain, Luke?-. A soft whisper from his older sister, at his side, makes him to slightly clench his jaw, looking down-. You know you get easily greensick-, she murmured, doubty.

-I am most than certain-. He answers with confidence, nodding. Daera curves her brows, sighing.

-Well, perhaps I shall join you too-. She tries to smile, tilting her head.

-No-. Luke denied within the second, almost trembling. Everybody goes speechless-. I can by myself!-. He stated as firm as he could, not looking at her.

Rhaenyra blinks hugely, staring at her son with confusion, while the others gulped and kept silent, leaving the boy with his decision.

When he answered her like that, Daera simply looked away, slowly. She feels her heart aching, as well as her belly, not understanding why he had to talk to her like that. Why is everybody treating her this way?, her already sad mind complained. The princess looks down at her arms, finding the innocent and beautiful babe in there. Viserys. Daera fights against tears that fighted back to come to her eyes, sour and tired ones. Oh, Alyssa...

Moments later, the royal carriage made its first stop. The royal harbour.

-Alright, this is us-. Rhaena sighs, being the first one in standing up. Luke quickly followed, pressing his lips.

While Daera stood up with carefulness, holding Viserys while opening the carriage's doors, Rhaenyra also stood up, and headed to her husband with her hands opened.

-Hmm-, Daemon hums lowly, carefully handing her Aegon.

-There we go-, Nyra cooes with tenderness, taking the babe, and leaning front to the prince-. I'll see you later-, she whispers.

-Yeah-, The Rogue Prince mumbles, giving a quick lovely kiss of farewell to his wife, who smiled to him with warmth.

-There-, Daera hands Viserys to Rhaena, who takes with with care, hugging him to her chest-. Alright-, she sighs, turning around, and coming down of the carriage with a single jump.

-Wait- where are you going?-. Baela asks with confusion, having Joffrey still sleeping on her legs.

-I will receive someone in here-. Daera informs, making her family to blink with curiosity, except Jace, who already know what she's talking about-. I'll head to the beach from here, anyways, Kalistrox is there-. She reminds, helping Rhaenyra to walk down the stairs.

-Right-, her step-mother nods with interest, caressing her belly. Daera glanced at it for a quick second, gulping.

-See you in Dragonstone!-. Rhaena waves her hand to the carriage, while she and Luke, carrying both twins, head towards their ship.

-See you!-. Baela farewells with a tired smile, while Daemon briefly waved his hand too towards them.

From his seat, Jace stares at Daera with his lips open, wanting to say something to her, anythinh. She, after sighing, looks back at him, and creates a tiny smile in her closed mouth.

-I'll meet you in the skies-, the princess says towards her family. And after her father hummed, she closed the doors with a light push.

Afterwards, the carriage is again pulled by the horses, going away. Baela, Jace, Joffrey and Daemon now are heading to the Dragonpit, where they'll mount Moondancer, Vermax, Tyraxes and Caraxes to fly back home.

The royal harbour is some quiet nice place, where only the sailors are around besides the family, getting ready the last tiny details for the royal family to set sail. The seas are calm, and the sky starry.

Daera stays firmly standing, in silence, crossing her hands over her belly, and keeping a weary face. Luke and Rhaena walked to the ship with the twins, being accompanied by the loyal midwives, Relia and Joveth.

Rhaenyra planned to follow their path. But, honestly, how could her? It was not hard to notice the sadness on her older step-daughter's face. Generally, Daera is good at hiding her true emotions, but at the moment she is just so tired and burned out that she has forgotten about keeping her face masked, which made her step-mother's heart to ache.

-Daera...-, Nyra's voice gets closer, causing the girl to flicker briefly, turning her head to look at her.

-Uh, yeah?-. Daera forces a smile, tilting her head.

-I see your sadness, child-. The older princess confesses as she approaches. Daera opens her lips, surprised-...Has something happened?-, she asks, so softly, arriving in front of her.

The brown-skinned girl blinks with exhaustion, looking down. Her momentary weakness allowed tears to gather in her eyes, especially when she glanced at the bulged belly of The Heir. Six months in, what a marvel. For a brief time, Daera truly hoped she could have the joy of that, of bearing a child of the man she loves. But turned out he suddenly desired he didn't want the same, and made her to...get rid of it.

Daera presses her lips strongly, afflicting her throat with sorrow. Rhaenyra instantly flickered, furrowing her brows with worry.

-I just...-the young princess sniffs her nose, gulping-...I just have been thinking about my mother-. With a thin voice, and a heavy feeling, she says a half true-. You know that I, all of a sudden, am thinking of her...from time to time...-, she whispers.

Rhaenyra blinks, sighing briefly. There are times -most of them- when she truly forget she is not the mother of Daemon's daughters. She has tended to Daera, Baela and Rhaena since they were all little girls, the older eleven, and it would be a lie to say that she doesn't feels they are her own.

But, keeping those thoughts to herself, she draws a small sad smile on her lips, slowly taking the girl's hands in hers, making her to look up again.

-I, too, am always thinking about my mother-. Rhaenyra confesses with a soft whisper, staring at her teary eyes-. I, too, miss her much, days and nights...-, she nods, heartily.

Daera gulps, holding herself as much as she can from starting to cry her soul out in mere harbour. She gives her a little smile, one that Nyra answered with dearness, caressing her hands.

-There would be no problem, at all, if you wish to join us in the ship-. The Heir mumbles with easiness, shrugging. Daera blinks, almost convinced, opening her lips-. There are still left some biscuits of your grandma, and...we'll boil tea, to make them some company, what do you say?-. Rhaenyra warmly smiles, tilting her head.

The mention of tea made the princess to instantly back down, shivering, for she immediately thought about the boiling Moon Tea her husband made her to drink. Now that she thinks of it, it seems that he had already prepared it, before she even arrived and before they even began to discuss about the child, because the tea was boiling as if it had just been taken from the fire.

-Umm-, Daera gulps strongly, furrowing her lips-. Um, no, no, I rather fly with Kalistrox-. She affirms, gulping again, and forcing a smile-. I want to...uh, arrive as soon as possible, to finally sleep-. She lets out a brief giggle, raising her brows.

-Very well-. Rhaenyra agrees with easiness, caressing her hands-. But, if you wish to speak about our mothers, or anything at all, when we arrive home...know that we can do it-. She tenderly whispered to her, taking a step forward.

Daera stares at her with a tired smile, silently nodding. It is not to doubt, that the relationship between she and Rhaenyra changed completely after the day she became the mother of her baby brothers, when she stood by her side in the birthing bed at all moments. Nyra's easiest childbirth ever.

-Thank you...-, the young princess whispers.

Rhaenyra reads her face with the dearest of smiles, sighing in silence through her nose.

-Princess Daera, princess Rhaenyra-. The voice of the Lord Commander made both Targaryen women turn around, still holding hands-. Your ward, princess-. Harrold nods towards the younger.

With him, a young blond girl of green eyes stands with nerves, and a shy smile, looking at Daera. She instantly smiled back at her, while Rhaenyra tilted her head with curiosity.

-Thank you very much, Ser Harrold-. Daera smiles to him, and he nods, also with a little smirk-. You may go now, Ser, I'll see you in two days-. She dismisses him with gentleness.

-Arrive well, my princesses-. The Lord Commander nods, to then turn around, and walk out from the royal harbour.

-Pri-princesses...-, timidly, Dyana bows her head to them. She carries in her hand a dirty small white bag.

-No need, sweetling-. Daera speaks with softness, and then she shares a look with Rhaenyra, who raises her brows with interest-. This is Dyana-, she introduces her with a smile.

-Dyana-, Nyra smiles towards the girl, curious.

-If it pleases you-, she is fast to say, smiling nervously.

-Dyana will be joining us to Dragonstone-. Daera informs to her step-mother-. Hands are never not of need-, she adds, softly speaking.

-We agree-. Rhaenyra mumbles, knowing that there is obviously more story to this girl, but she decided to keep her curiosity for another moment-. Come, let me take you to our ship-. Gentle, she nods towards her.

Briefly, Dyana glances at the younger prince, who nods with a little smile to her. Afterwards, the young girl gulps, excited, and starts to walk with The Heir to The Iron Throne, guided by her.

-Is this all you bring with you, sweetheart?-. Rhaenyra softly asks, placing a hand on her back, and looking at the small bag.

-Uh, yes, princess-. Dyana answers, shyly.

-That is alright...-, The Heir smiles at her.

Daera breathes deeply in, filling her lungs with the fresh air of the night, giving herself strength. Then, she nods, turning around, and beginning to walk in the opposite direction to the ship, staring forwards.

Rhaenyra turned her head for a second to look at her. And, from the boat, Lucerys also looked at his older sister, seeing her walking away without looking back. He gulps, already feeling greensick.

Once again, Daera is now walking through the beach, with the wind blowing all her hair and skirt as she walks forwards at all times. Tears are rolling her cheeks down, again, but her face is made of stone, and her jaw clenched.

Little does she knows what is about to happen.

Kalistrox growls with familiarness as he sees her approaching, already offering her his wing.

Little does she knows this is not the worst pain she had felt.

Daera breathes with steadiness as the tears roll down her face, and she takes seat in her saddle, fiercely.

Little does she know that she has yet to have the most painful loss of her life.

Luke sees at the sails hoisting. Rhaena cooes the twins with a smile. Rhaenyra rubs her belly. Baela caresses Moondancer's neck. Daemon smirks when he sees Caraxes. Jace mounts Vermax with confidence. Helaena brushes her hair in her balcony. Jaehaerys babbles in her knees. Rhaenys sleeps in her chambers. Aemond lies, fainted, in Lovers Island.

Little does she knows...how stained her hands will be.

Kalistrox let out a sharp mighty roar when he rised in the skies with power, flapping his big golden wings as his rider holds her saddle with force and strength, going with her lips opened, and her eyes tearfully serious.

When that mighty roar shook the city, the people of King's Landing looked up, the people in The Dragonpit looked up, the people of The Red Keep looked up, and the people in the royal ship did so too.

And, while everyone looked at The Golden Ray soaring powerfully in the skies, The Rogue Princess turned her head to look only at one place, to the castle. She wrinkled her lips, gulping her sour sad tears, thinking about The One-Eyed Prince.

Then the storm broke, and the dragons danced.

■ ■ ■

#house of the dragon #the dance of the dragons #aemond targaryen #targaryen #aemondtargaryen #the one eyed prince #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen fanfic #if villain bad why hot #daera targaryen #oc x aemond targaryen #original writing #jacaerys targaryen #lucerys velaryon

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