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Settling back into his chambers within Maegors Keep came both easier and harder than Daemon was initially expecting. His chambers had been left pretty much the same, cleaned and prepped for his arrival, bed made with his preferred bed silks and warm blankets to stave off the bitter cold the keep could play host to, even during the summer nights. His bags had been unpacked and sorted; clothing laid out of the chair beside a small table ready for the day. Books organised and laid out across the various shelves situated against one of the walls near the fireplace, behind an armchair he often would fold into and read while sipping on wine late into the night.

All was completely normal, following patterns of past returns.

However comfortable the halls of the keep could be to fall back into, there was a feeling of unsettlement that Daemon couldn't quite place. Something just didnt feel right. Nothing had changed, the same heavy atmosphere of misery and pride, strangling the light in favour of danger and opulence found nowhere else in Westeros.

From the moment he set foot within the grounds, entering the halls, Daemon couldnt help but notice the missing presence he had grown so accustomed to whenever he would return. Every turn around the sharp corridors, always filled with people and servants moving about the keep, the one form that always brought the most amount of comfort. Rhaenyra. His niece, a mirror to his soul in every way that would forever be waiting, watching from any window that would provide her the best vantage as Caraxes would break through the cloud cover the moment she would hear the familiar shrill of the red wyrm.

A tiny slip of a girl, no taller than his hip, flying through the halls of the keep, her silver braids floating on the wind behind her as she would launch herself through the air towards him.

Now he had barely spied his niece for more than mere moments, a word not even offered in his direction as she made a hasty retreat from the throne room. Rhaenyra had yet to even look him in the eye since he returned.

Long missing were the long strings of melodic Valryian babbling from her pout, giggling incessantly as they would walk the corridors of the keep together. The feel of her gentle touch against his stubble, rubbing her cheek against his to feel the scratchy surface.

Rhaenyras missing form from the welcoming within the courtyard had not gone unnoticed by the rogue. Unlike coming home from the Stepstones where he spied her silver head bobbing through the crowd, the courtyard was devoid of his niece no matter where he looked. 
 
His door opened with a force of a thunderclap, the swing violent as the door collided with the wall before bouncing against the stone, closing as Daemon retreated from his chambers with long strides through the deserted corridors, narrowly avoiding servants in his wake, leaving a trail of gossiping whispers behind him.

Daemons footsteps managed to bring him to the dragon pit, seeking the comfort of his dragon who appeared to reside just as restless as Daemon felt, the tendrils of their connection flickering electric lava against his muscles, irritating his already dire mood. The pitched shrieks and clicks from Caraxes echoed throughout, calling to him as he arrived to the entrance, communicating to his rider as Daemon stepped into the darkened cavern of the pit. 

Just as the command was about to leave Daemons lips to summon his dragon, a familiar sight caught his attention. Rhaenyra, shuffling around the flank of her dragon to meet Syraxs snout, her gloved fingertips brushing against her nose.Long silver hair swept away from her face into a high ponytail, braided to her shoulders before the ties allowed the rest of her stunning tresses the pattern loose waves against her shoulders. Missing were the riding leathers and boots, her form fitted with a gown of burnt umber lade over laying a blood red silk underneath. Stitched in tiny flowers and dragons across the tightly strung bodice in gold silk, the thread captured the early morning light, glittering as

As Daemon watches from afar, his niece completely lost and content to pet her dragon, a frown shifts across his expression as he watches the serene peace illuminating her features. Where were her riding leathers? Why would Rhaenyra be here on her own if not to fly? Spying the lack of guards and even the absence of dragon keepers around the young princess, the only other creature around was Syrax who seemed to be too focused on the attentions of her rider to even raise her golden head in his direction. Something which Daemon found himself grateful for as this had been the longest he had spent in the presence of his nieces since his departure from the capital.

The shadows hide his presence well as Daemon watched intently the shift in his nieces expression, seeing the crease across her brow forming as she traced small circles along her brow with her fingertips, massaging the temples as her eyes closed. Her nose wrinkles across the bridge between her eyes and the frustrated flare of her nostrils that Daemon always found adorable, even from a distance.

Before Daemon could make his approach and step into the Dragon pit making his presence known, he could hear the familiar clink of armour combined with the heavy set footsteps of a Kingsguard approaching from behind, pushing the rogue to slip into the shadows unnoticed by his niece still consumed with returning to stroking the warm scales of her contented dragon. His eyes held firm as he watched Ser Westerling approach, the stern expression he usually wore replaced with a calm countenance which he usually held when watching over his young charge. Daemon could never remember a moment where Westerling looked at Rhaenyra with anything but affection and care.

A small relief settled the ache within his chest whenever Daemon had to be away from the keep, he at least knew someone was looking out for his little dragon in his exiled absences. Each trip away from the keep, the moons spent away from Rhaenyra had always been incredibly difficult, but this time around had been different for Daemon. Having her within his grasp, the feel of her skin under his fingers had seared into his memory, making leaving her all the more painful.

“I had a feeling I might find you out here princess.” The gruff voice of the older of the kingsguard echoed within the Dragon pit, slightly startling Rhaenyra as she turned to the source of the voice, before she smiled a shaky smile.

“Good morrow ser.” Her eyes soften as she turns to face the approaching guard. Slipping into the shadows, Daemon turned to exit, leaving Rhaenyra to the safety of her guard before she noticed his own presence within the pit. 

“Princess,” Westerling offers a curt nod before stepping a little closer, stopping once Syrax huffs a hot breath through her nostrils in his direction. From his position Westerling could spy the pale complexion across the princesses face, the faint bruising around her eyes growing more prominent with each sleepless night the young woman was finding herself fighting against. “Couldn't sleep again.” Westerling voiced with a tinge of understanding colouring his tone. Rhaenyra blinked, startled slightly under the unwavering study she found herself under, the gentleness of his usually gruff tone within the unusually quiet Dragon Pit catching her off guard. 

Shaking her head slightly, her gaze dipping to the dusty floor shifting into dug out patterns beneath Syraxs talons,“It's getting better but still…” her voice trailed off as her attention pulled away from the ground to the snout that butted up against her elbow with a flare of her nose. Rhaenyra gave a small sigh through her slightly open lips, the tiny quirk of the corners of her mouth; the makings of a smile, as her fingers traced the scaled patterns of Syraxs nose, “every so often I'll hear something. The walls hold memories and those memories echo. Noises. I’m less a dragon and more a mouse for now.” Rhaenyra shrugs.

With a shake of his head, Westerling shifted his stance to relax slightly, his hand coming to rest against the pommel of his sword, studying the princess with a softening gaze, “You are still very much a dragon, princess. Even more so now than ever before.”

Syrax curved her neck to lower her head down towards the ground, butting her nose against Rhaenyras relaxed palm to gain her riders attention, unappreciative of being ignored by Rhaenyra in conversation. The demand was met in kind, Rhaenyras palm brushing against the heated scales, softly smile at the rough texture scratching against the pad of her palm. 

“She knows you haven't been yourself.” Westerlings voice startled her, murmuring stern against the quiet. Turning to watch the aged guard, his attention flickering between herself and Syrax, Rhaenyras eyes dropped to the floor between them before shifting back to meet the intimidating eye of Syrax.

Rhaenyra drew back slightly against her heel, her fingers clenching in a vice grip against her palms, her nails digging crescent moons into the soft skin, leaving red angry marks. “I swear if Syrax wasn't chained here she would have killed him that night. She knows.” 

Westerling nodded in agreement, “Dragons do have a link to you. Hatching and growing together, you and Syrax have a connection unheard of. Your memories may not be different.” Rhaenyras brows rose high against her forehead, the imagery placed against her mind forming in faint lines of scepticism, creasing the corners of her eyes before relaxing with sigh escaping her drying lips. 

“That is a terrifying prospect. I don't even like remembering. But knowing Syrax probably saw that night in just as much detail, it makes me feel worse somehow,” moving to stand in front of Syrax, her back turned to Ser Westerling as the dragon lowered herself closer to the ground,“I'm sorry little lady. You having to bear the pains of my memories is not something i would wish upon you.” she cooed, peering into the golden eyes of her mount, patting at Syraxs nose as it butted hot and steaming against her palm. With a few gentle strokes, Rhaenyra whispered against the warmth, soft secret Valyrian phrases passed between dragon and rider, before pulling away to move towards Westerling.

“Ready princess?”

“Ready.” she affirmed, throwing a smile over her shoulder towards Syrax before falling into step with the kingsguard.

Leaving Syrax to the care of the Dragon Keepers stepping forward as the princess left, bowing as she trailed beside Westerling to enter the warming daylight sunshine beaming down on the open courtyard outside the pit. Shielding her eyes from the bright sun with one hand, the fingers of her other hand trailed along her skirt, flicking the dust from the pit off the dark soft material, straightening the bodice against the swell of her hips. 

“Did you desire to ride this morning by chance, princess?” Westerling questioned. 

A sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips as Rhaenyra gave a very small shake of her head, “Not yet. Still a bit sore. The maesters say that should ease soon so maybe within the next week?” The temptation to climb atop Syrax and take to the skies was growing more and more desperate with each passing day. Just to escape the burdens of the capital for one moment. 

Peering around the open air, Westerling noted with concern the lack of guard following behind. “Did you come to the dragon pit on your own?” he asks. 

Rhaenyra just shook her head. “No. Ser Criston was kind enough to escort me but was called away. He was sure the dragon pit safer than anywhere in Kings landing.” with an elegant shrug, her hands folded against the small of her back.

The usually stern guard chuckled, a low warm rumble from his chest, “Aye princess. I pity the fool who would try to hurt you around Syrax.”

A brief smile flashed across her face, warming her cheeks as she chuckled. “He said anyone who wanted to hurt me deserved their fate of being eaten.”

The subject of the former guard raised concern for Westerling, his steps slowing to bring his shoulder in line with the princess, her arms folded behind her back as she so often would do as she walked. “Has Cole been giving you much trouble, princess?”

Rhaenyra shot a kind smile towards the guard, shaking her head side to side a few times, “Actually no, he hasn't been any trouble. Ser Criston even apologised to me for his actions. We talked at great length.”

Hearing this did manage to bring comfort, lowering the distaste for the young man significantly, though not erasing the behaviour from his memory. Ser Westerling had witnessed the sneer that had crossed the young boys face the nights following the attack after he reported to the hand at the time, the venom that laced his tone as he spewed the gossip to the former hand and anyone that would listen in the days following the attack. Westerling could hardly remember ever seeing the usually gentle and soft King so enraged as he dismissed Otto Hightower from his position and even having the kings guard punished, the demure queen who rarely spoke out could barely contain her own disgust as her father left the Keep.

Slowing her steps, Rhaenyra paused, the divot between her brows deepening as the words began to form in her throat, “Anger tends to make people do strange things. I snuck out, I put Ser Criston in a position where he could have been in serious trouble. I do not blame his anger in the face of losing everything he has worked hard for.” her eyes turned to meet Westerling who had stopped beside her, his body turned to face her. 

“It wasnt your fault either, princess.” From his gentle words Rhaenyras hand reached to trace the fading marks littering against her cheek, the difficult habit proving to be a force she was struggling to break even as time wore on. The mark had faded, but the sting remained.  

Running her teeth across her lip, the truth began to creep to the front of her mind, “No, not entirely, but... we all make choices. And some choices have consequences we dont deserve but happen anyway,” pausing, she swallowed back the emotions building into a lump in her throat before trailing her eyes back to meet Westerlings, “I dont blame anyone else for what happened. But in saying this I also cant ignore that I did play a part in what happened that night.” Rhaenyra let out a chest rattling sigh thinking over the very words she had heard Daemon himself mutter once he came to be head of the gold cloaks, “‘Kings Landing is Lawless and Terrifying’. I knew this but I still made the choice to venture into flea bottom with only one person who turned around and left me there.” 

“The prince made his choice.” Westerling reassures, “And he will find out just how much of a consequence his action had, princess.”

Rhaenyra waits behind Ser Westerling when his steps drew closer towards the wheelhouse waiting outside the Dragon pit, Rhaenyras own steps slowing immensely as fingers tangled together, pressing into bodice covering her stomach. The threat, the promise of the events to come hanging heavy in the air, repeating in circles in her mind as she found her mind drawing the image of Daemon and all the events planned for the coming weeks. “I know. And thats what scares me.” she whispers, the tip of her tongue darting to moisten her dry lips, gentle swells of breeze cooling against the dampened skin. 

“Shall we depart for the keep princess?” Westerling prompts, holding a hand out to the princess, “Our presence will be noticed if we fail to arrive on time.”

With a sigh Rhaenyra painted a soft smile across her lips and took Westerlings outstretched hand, “Of course.” Sweeping her skirt to the side her fingers grasped around the older mans larger hand, holding firm as her feets clung to the rungs of the steps, climbing into the warmth of the enclosed wheelhouse. The door closes behind Westerling with a thud, his form manouvering to fall into the seat across from Rhaenyra before tapping on the wall, signalling to drive on. Sinking back into the padding of the seat, Rhaenyra let her gaze fall beyond the gaps of the shuttered window, tracing the buildings and city beyond as they passed through the city streets.

As the wheelhouse disappeared from sight Daemon stepped out from the shadows, eyeing the carriage until he lost sight, turning his attention to Caraxes who slowly crept from deep withing the dragon pit to greet him.

A curiosity Daemon was sure to uncover, no matter the cost.

The level of fanfare organised was uncommon but no matter what Rhaenyra said, Alicent believed it warranted as the bride to be was the eldest daughter of the new hand, showing the level of respect for the Strong family the queen deemed necessary, while also providing a great distractions for the capital and family. Keeping that in mind the

Rhaenyra stood beside watching closely Alicent as she fiddled with her skirt, a small change from her usually finger picking habit which Rhaenyra was glad to see missing for today, her nail beds clean from blood and healing in a pink tinge where her raw skin had begun to heal with time. The sight brought Rhaenyra a small amount of comfort, knowing how stressed Alicent had been in recent days, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

“I hope Aegon behaves for his tutors today.”

“He shall be fine, your grace.” Rhaenyra assured, her fingers brushing against Alicents in a small show of comfort, the nervous young woman smiling to Rhaenyra as she inhaled deeply. “Everything is under control, Alicent. I assure you, you left nothing to chance.”

To the right of Alicent stood Ser Strong, the proud father shuffling his feet against the dirt, his jacket pulled tight around his stout form as his eyes travelled to his sons standing beside him, casting a careful eye over their appearance too. Ser Harwin towered over everyone present, an intimidating presence made kinder from the small smiles he would offer in response, a very nice smile, not quite reaching his eyes that would always soften his rugged, handsome features.

To his right the hobbling, slouched form of his brother Larys rested against his cane, the pain from his foot throbbing as he attempted to stand tall next to his family.

The carriage ground to a halt just outside the bronze gates, the dirt settling against the wheels and hooves dig traction marks into the dirt, bringing the large wooden structure to a halt. Rhaenyra and many cover their faces from the dust, fanning the dust away from faces with hands and colourful handkerchiefs. The long deep red and pale blue wheelhouse shook as people descended, a set of stairs produced and set against the door before a squire tugged on the handle, pulling the door open wide.

Outstretched a pale small hand, fingers adoranded tastefully with only a few rings with small intricate gems. Ser Harwin took a step forward from his fathers side, taking hold of the hand with a delicate grip, fingers gripping against his stocky solid hand.

The sisters stepped out one after another, taking care as they descended from the wheelhouse on the shaking steps set out for them, followed by a few ladies assigned to them by their father from Harranhall.

The eldest and the bride to be, Layna Strong,  stood taller the Rhaenyra, nearing Alicent in height and stature with long dark brown hair that had been swept high against her crown, several curls escaping the tight weaving braids and pins holding her hair to the top of her head. A heart shaped face with a beautifully pointed chin, elegant and graceful slope to her nose. Her warm honey brown eyes shimmered under the sunlight, a mischievous spark subduing once her eyes met her fathers before she came to stand in front of the queen, her fingers holding tight to her skirt to attempt to hold the fabric from the damp ground.

Her sister stood a full head shorter, meeting her sister's shoulder barely. Celia had softer, light brown hair, similar in colour and curl to Harwins, falling just to her shoulders before being swept back into several small looping braids. Heer features softer, reflecting her age with a soft chub to her cheeks, rounding her face.

“Welcome to Kings Landing, Lady Strong,” Alicent greeted in kindness, “and to the betrothed Lady Strong. Welcome.”

Stepping forward Lord Strong offered a deep bow, followed by his daughters and the extended party, cycling through greetings before rising to stand straight behind him. “Thank you, your grace. Princess. We appreciate your hospitality and generosity.”

“Yes. This wedding would never have come to reality without your kindness.”

The proud father doted on his daughter, explaining the absence of her betrothed from the welcome party having been shooed away by Layna as not wishing to incur bad luck. Her nerves, Ser Strong admitted, were high and was apparent with each glance in her direction, Laynas eyes would move between the conversation to droop to the ground, shuffling side to side on her feet.

Eventually after the greetings, Lord Strong broke away from his family leaving Harwin to talk to the bride with Larys, taking hold of the shorter figure behind the bride, lithe in form moving like a gentle breeze beside him as they made their way towards Rhaenyra who made to straighten her skirt, watching with the carefully maintained mask of proprietary she had always been trained to uphold. With a smile Strong came to a halt in front of the princess, Rhaenyras eyes moving from Ser Strong to the awestruck face beside him.

“Princess., I'm pleased to introduce to you my youngest daughter Celia.” Gesturing to his right with his free hand, Celia greeted with a low, a touch wobbly curtsey before rising shyly, a nervous ever so tiny smile flickering at the corners of her naturally pouted rose pink lips.

“Princess.” Celia greeted, her nerves coming through her tone, causing her voice to be quieter than she intended.

Rhaenyra offered a kind smile to Celia to placate the young girl, attempting to ease the young girls nerves, before her gaze shifted to Ser Strong, “When you have the time princess, I wish to make a request of you, when you have a chance.”

Meeting Strongs gaze, a deep frown creasing between her brows, hands folding in front of her stomach, pressing against the soft silk of the bodice stretched across her slender frame, “Is everything alright, Ser Strong?” Rhaenyra presses, concerned.

“Yes, princess. I have a request to discuss with yourself and the king, when you have a free moment.” Strong explained.

Rhaenyra gives a curt nod, “That should be easy to arrange. Join me this afternoon for tea, if you will. We can discuss further within the kings chambers.”

“Of course. Thank you princess.”

“It's no trouble. I shall send a guard to collect you from your chambers when we sit.” Ser Strong dismissed with a bow, leading his youngest back towards the bride currently enamoured by the flowers strung along the walls and roof, draping across the room in a canopy of rainbow petals.

Hearing Ser Strongs request did not fill Rhaenyra with anything other than overwhelming concern. The subtle urgency written between the glances between herself and his daughter left her to pause for a moment before coaching her expression back to a demure politeness expected of her. Strong rejoined the group as Rhaenyra watched on, her brows cinched together before wringing the fabric of her skirt against her palms and trailing behind him, coming to stand beside Alicent and her ladies. 

Escorting the Ladies Strong into the Keep, the group made their way towards the throne room where the majority of the celebrations would take place, after the ceremony within the Sept. Rhaenyra stuck close to the bride Strong and Alicent, answering questions the younger Celia would pique her interest with.

Stepping through the opened doors to the throne room, the reactions were everything Alicent could have hoped for. Rhaenyra noted the deep sigh and the relief was over the queens expression, her eyes softening as she watched the bride and her family stare agape and pass comments about the room and decorations between each other. Everyon so often Alicent would offer response or suggestion, but for the most she stayed behind and allowed the group to pass comments amongst themselves before they returned to the queen and princess.

“If you follow, ill take you to the quarters that have been prepared for you.” Alicent gestured for the group to follow, her skirts swishing around her ankles as she moved. 

Rhaenyra sighed as she began to trail behind, her steps slowing to fall back towards the rear of the group, the palms of her hands smoothing against her skirts. A newly formed habit she deeply loathed. When her fingers missed the many rings adorning her fingers, her dampening palms would cling to the fabric of her dress, attempting to disguise the nervous tremble of her hands. 

It had been moons since the halls of the keep filled with the booming laughter and echoing notes of conversation, many moons since so many people stood within the caverns and long passageways of Rhaenyras home.

Straightening her back, Rhaenyra made to follow but was halted.

"Princess."

The voice. The shiver it sent through her spine. A cold, needle like shiver of dread coasts over her senses, as though she might faint while all the world spun around her. In her fading line of vision Alicent halted, her gaze drifting slowly over her shoulder as she levelled a glare just beyond her own shoulder, far past Rhaenyras ear towards only one man that could possess a voice that could churn her insides while simultaneously triggering a flutter in her chest.

"Alicent. It's ok." Rhaenyra whispered through tightly pulled lips, disappearing between her teeth which bore harshly into the soft flesh before running her tongue across her bottom lip. 

"Ill just be over here." Alicent motions, stepping way as Rhaenyra mouthes thank you in her direction with Alicent still sending glares at Daemon as she leaves. Turning on her heel once Alicent joined Ser Strong and his daughters, Rhaenyra was met the one person she had dreaded seeing the most. In her frazzled, dazed existence over the course of the weeks, Rhaenyra had almost forgotten just how tall and Valyrian-esque her uncle had always been. Long and lean, muscular in ways he hadn't always been, honed from the years upon the battlefield in the Stepstones. His hair swept back against his crown, shimmering liquid silver to the base of his skull.

Against her stomach her fingers twitched, itching to run her digits through the short hairs across the back of his neck. Just like she had done that nigh-

"Prince Daemon, in the capital once more." she cut her thoughts off, pulling herself back to the reality at hand. 

Daemon was taken aback. He took note of her effort to not meet his eye. Subtle shift in avoidance whenever his posture shifted closer to her. And her lack of usual greeting with ‘uncle’, opting instead much to Daemons confusion, to address him by title. He couldnt even miss the way her monotone words lacked her usual melodic joy that would coax a smile from even the rogue prince himself.

Her usually infectious personality shielded away from everyone it appeared, even Daemon.

“Why the surprise on your face, my dear niece? Kingslanding shall forever be my home. Its where I always want to be." The smirk that crossed his lips made the muscle across Rhaenyra brow twitch, irritated as she noted the arrogance and lack of awareness around him.

“Considering you do everything in your ability to remain gone from “your home”, you must forgive my disbelief with your words, prince daemon.” a fond, sad smirk crosses her lips, failing to hide the derision in her words. She was in no mood to play games or calm his ego in this moment.

Daemon studied the sharpness in her expression, the lacking of any kind of affection the prince was accustomed to. “You know me best princess. I always long for my home, no matter where i travel.” His eyes wondered, making the attempt of show, looking around before his eyes fell back to Rhaenyra. “Well, i always long for one creature comfort of home, i should admit.”

It took every ounce of restrain to maintain her composure and smother the snort that threatened to escape her lips. But being so public, surrounded by so many important diplomats and guests to the keep, a snort from the heir would not soothe Alicents nerves. Or make Rhaenyra feel anything other than utter embarrassment and rage.

Daemon would receive no such reaction.

"In much else though, my niece, you remain an innocent girl. Especially innocent considering you grew up in the capital." He continued, watching the struggle within his niece. Her eyes focus anywhere but his eyes, content to watch his hand scratching across his jaw as he speaks, watching her through softened eyes that usually would be reserved only for her.

She hated it.

The way his eyes would relax as he studied her, the intense shiver running the course of her body when his lips twitched into the all familiar smirk the rogue was famous for. It took everything within Rhaenyra to not bite, to not take the bait of his goading smirk and scream everything that was on her mind. Lay everything bare, face her greatest fear head on. But she knew today was not the day. Alicent had worked too hard and too long for her to ruin such an auspicious occasion. Her problems could wait.

Daemon could wait. 

“Not so innocent." Rhaenyra replied in a quiet whisper, more so to herself than to Daemon as she turned to look out over the view of Kings Landing from the window. “I fear you have been away from the keep too often, prince daemon. Many things have changed…. in your absence.” 

Without saying a word to dismiss herself, Rhaenyra broke away from the festivities and turned her back on Daemon, not paying him any further attention or attention to anything around her as she moved away from the bustling crowds still awing at the spectacle Alicent and the servants had managed to pull off. Making her way along the all too familiar corridors towards the centre of the godswood, the one place she could always feel peace. Voices and laughter echoed, softening the further her footsteps took her away to the peace and tranquillity of the open air. 

How could she be the same Rhaenyra from the past? Her life had been marked by a series of open wounds, one raw slice against her flesh, leaving angry red and purple ribbons across her pale skin. Being born a girl into a realm desiring a boy over everything. A father making no secret her gender a burden. A constant target on her back the day she was named heir over Daemon. Losing her mother and countless siblings, grieving alone. How oft would she sob at the prye of her siblings that drew no breath, claimed no life before their passing.

Losing Alicent as a friend but regaining her presence after her care and love came through when Rhaenyra needed it most.

Her brother. Her long awaited sibling in life. Long faded was the anger, replaced with a care and affection Rhaenyra never expected to feel for a sibling of Alicent and her father.

But all could not compare to that one night, laying on the cold, damp floor. 

Daemon would find out in time just how her innocence had been tainted, torn apart and left to rot in a heap on the cold, blood soaked halls of the keep. She knew the memories and the torment she still experienced would fade, and she would eventually have to move past the nights events and place forgiveness if she were to move forward. But the reality was harsher than the expectation she was placing on herself.

Could she give forgiveness if her heart still ached? If her marred skin still bore the damage of the night. Wounds slow to heal, tender to the touch and an ever present reminder of the events that had occurred. 

The sun beat down against the crown of Rhaenyras head high and bright against the pale blue, warming the earth below, illuminating the ground and everything it touched in an amber glow.

Amongst the soothing rustling of leaves through the breeze, Rhaenyra closed her eyes to the quiet the gardens provided.

But in the silence, her mind began to wonder, focusing too pointedly on the one sound she did not wish to hear. 

Her own screams.

The sound appeared within her memory like a trance around her, echoing through the corridors, her whimpers and pleas for help as she attempted to escape the nightmare that pressed her into the cold floor. Her head swayed side to side with her eyes tightly closed, little crinkles at the corners of her eyes as she attempted to erase the memories forcing their way to the surface. 

By the time she snapped out of her trance, she peered around her shoulders realising where she was situated in front of the dogwood tree, the blood red and white trunk appearing to glow in crisp white under the intensity of the sunlight. The feel of the bark of the tree rough under the palm of her hand, her other holding a yellowing leaf, crisp and rough under the smooth pads of her fingers. Pressing her forehead against the solid structure of the tree, she inhaled a few deep breaths, fighting against the constraints of the dress's structured bodice, exhaling slow steady breaths.

“This is ridiculous,” she mutters to herself, fingers curling around the leaf, turning it into a pile of crushed fragments in the curve of her hand. Relaxing her hand, her palm opened, letting the pieces flutter through the air to the ground.

“I need to be stronger than this.” 

The sound of boots crunching against dry leaves caught her attention and she turned to look, seeing Daemon slowly approaching, watching her. The sound broke through her idle thinking, leaving her feeling slightly rattled, her heart pounding beneath her chest. Though her breathing remained even, masking the shock the sudden approach left her, beneath her heavy-set gown beads of sweat started collecting along her spine, not helped at all under the intensity of Daemons gaze as he stepped closer towards her. 

Halting, Daemons mouth moved in frustrated lines, words beginning to form that Rhaenyra knew she wasn't prepared to face, not in this moment.  Her lips cracked open, just enough to dart her tongue out to wet her lips as she prepared to make her apologies and leave, but a shape in the archway pulled her attentions away from her uncle, offering the much-needed break in their encounter.

The servant interrupted, “Princess Rhaenyra.” Daemon sighed frustrated, gritting his teeth as his eyes drifted away from his niece, narrowing off into the distance. The flickering flame within his glare made Rhaenyra internally chuckle, seeing the violet burning flare beneath the surface.

With a bow the servant straightened, folding his hands across his front, “Her grace has tea prepared for you, princess. She has requested to meet you in your chambers.” 

Offering a polite smile Rhaenyra gave a small nod, “Please inform the queen I shall be waiting in my chambers for her, at her earliest.” the servant gave another bow before disappearing from the arch way, out of sight just as quickly as he appeared.

Turning her attention back to Daemon, her eyes never once meeting his as she offered her uncle a perfunctory smile. "If you'll please excuse me, I have some things to attend to. Enjoy the sunshine.” holding her shoulders firm, her back straight, Rhaenyra shifted before stepping to move past Daemon, her shoulder brushing against his shoulder, her skirt trailing along the ground as she stalked away without a glance. 

Viserys didn't know how it happened, what poisons had been placed into the wine or magic woven into the water. Whatever mystical force that had taken hold within the keep, had succeeded. He shall never understand it. Tucked within the bickering monotone conversations being thrown around the council room, the only sounds mingling and managing to cut through the tension are the sound of goblets tapping against the table as the wine flowed freely.

And seated to just his right, slumped with his boot folded across his knee, bouncing up and down through the air, annoyance painting the thin lines across his face, Daemon sat. His long fingers tapping against his knee as he reaches with his free hand for the wine goblet set on the table in front of him, taking a long sip of the amber liquid, grimacing at the sharpness of the berry notes before replacing the goblet to the table.

Viserys bit his tongue to disguise the smirk threatening to break across his lips each time his brother sighed or inhaled a deep, calming breath to sooth his irritation. He took great pleasure in seeing his younger brother suffer through the very thing he hated most: council meetings. To be fair, the meeting had dragged out for too long and even Viserys was growing weary, but seeing Daemon suffer made the exhaustion oh so worth it.

Lord Beesburys voice managed to break through his daze, bringing Viserys back to the situation around him, “If we don't make an example out of this situation, many will think to exploit this moment as a weakness. House Targaryen and the realm cannot be thought to be weak, especially when an assault occurs.”

“Whatever happened to the measures instilled when you had me in charge of the city watch, brother?” Daemon questioned, his fingers tapping against his knee as he turned his eyes to Viserys.

“It appears with your departure from Kingslanding, some opted to take advantage of what they thought was a weakened guard.”

Lord Strong chimed in, his gaze never leaving Daemons, “The measures have proven to be effective, but only to a point my prince. The current guard stations have managed, but it seems some weaknesses have begun to worm their way through.”

Daemon sighed, turning his attention to Viserys, “I see the city is falling back to terror brother.”

“How would you handle-” Viserys paused with Rhaenyra’s pleas coming to mind, halting his sentence as he carefully began to construct his next string of words,“the violent assault on...a noble woman.”

Daemons eyes narrowed, “Violent assault? What are we discussing here, surrounding the subject of the rape?” he near hissed. The very subject bringing a bitter taste to the tip of his tongue. 

“And worse still.” Daemon looked Viserys in the eye, the stern, icy expression covering his usually jovial and serene brothers face was alarming, to say the least. With a shift against the backrest of his seat, Daemon pushed to sit a little straighter in his chair, turning his body to face Viserys fully.  

“Well there will need to be a trial. Just how violent an assault are we discussing?” Daemon enquired, eyebrow arching high against his forehead..

Images began to fill Viserys mind, remembering the night like it only occurred mere hours ago. Reliving each moment purely within his mind, the memories never fading even a little. 

Lord Beesbury interjected, pulling Daemons attention from the struggling king. “By the time the young woman was discovered, walking through the halls, she appeared to have been attacked by what was thought to be an animal. She had been essentially hacked into.”

“Teeth and bite marks, scratches and deep gashes against her skin. Her clothes had been torn and she was bleeding from a wound on her head.” Strong added, his eyes closing as he thought over the details the princess had discussed with him, the image of her wounds and her skin covered in bright red liquid. Haunting images of her skin busted, red and raw.

“All this took place in the capital?” Daemon questioned, attempting to keep his anger in check. He had the pleasure of dealing with many a rapist when he took control of the city watch, and it always brought satisfaction unlike anything else to punish such people.

“I'm afraid so. The guards were patrolling other halls and dispersing crowds from the streets. The attacker struck at a golden opportunity.” “Harwin Strong can fill in the details if you wish, my prince. He has been working closely with the victim and the guards in charge of the investigation with the hand and the king.”

“A trial…”Viserys sighed, his gaze staring off into nothing, swallowing the lump forming in his throat. He knew a trial would require Rhaenyra, forcing her to relive the night once more. 

“A trial where the scum would be made to answer for their crimes.” Daemon added, “the victim deserves justice, brother.” 

Viserys let his closed fist bang solid against the table, rattling the wood and the empty goblets littering the surface of the table. “We shall host the trail after the Strong wedding festivities. How long after should be sufficient, ser?” Viserys stated, turning to Ser Strong. If the hand of the king was at all affected by the kings actions, he did not show even a tiny tremor.

“We shall host the trial by weeks end, your grace. That should provide plenty of time to prepare.” The response seemed to please the king and the council, the content murmurs as the meeting dismissed and dispersed from the room with a bow. Daemon stood from the table, dramatically stretching out his back before excusing himself with a wave over his shoulder in his brothers direction.

The relaxed cockiness so easily falling between brothers left Viserys shaking his head as his brother exited the room, the door clapping shut with Daemon disappearing beyond. If Viserys didnt know the subject of the trial, the reason behind the somber mood that followed the king throughout the halls these days, Viserys would almost find himself succumbing to the fairytale that everything was as it always had been. That his brothers presence in the halls of the keep didnt bring Visery great amount of anguish. That thinking about Rhaenyra and everything that was to come wasnt twisting violent ripples throughout his chest as he imagined Rhaenyra having to face Daemon once more.

Pushing away from the table, Viserys stood stretching out the muscles along his spine. Sitting for so long was doing the king no good, the ache lingering along how lower back far too long. 

“Finally this wedding shall be over.” Strong sighed, massaging his temples with his stocky fingers. He pushes away from the table and stands, rolling out a shoulder before collecting the papers from the table, tapping them to form an organised stack in his hands.

“Could not agree more, Ser Strong.” Viserys turns, seeing Rhaenyra gracefully climbing the stairs towards him. He failed to notice her entering the council room but her beauty and grace filled the room with a warmth, making Viserys heart swell with pride as she walked towards him. “The queen has been constantly nattering about everything from the food to table layouts and decorations. I fear I shall tear my hair out by the root if I attend one more dress fitting.” she teased with a smirk. Viserys gaze softened when his daughter stopped beside him, studying her expression for any evidence that her path happened to cross Daemons as he exited the room just moments prior.

“Now now, Alicent means well.” Viserys teased, pressing a kiss to the cheek Rhaenyras presented as he leant forward.

“Father.” she smiled softly, “and i don't judge. Though my wounds speak otherwise.”

“How are you holding up my dear?”

“Tired. It's been a long day. I'm afraid this wedding will be draining on us all.” her fingers gently brushed against the curve of her fathers cheek, her brow furrowed as her eyes traced his complexion, “Are you feeling well father? You look pale.”

“The impending weeks are beginning to take their toll on me, my girl.” Viserys sighed, “I shall survive though. With wine and rest.”

With a nod, the concern not fading from her worried orbs, “I believe I feel that exact same sentiment, father. I'm already wishing this whole situation were over.” she teases, biting her tongue between her teeth before smiling, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Walk with me. Tell me the wedding party has settled into their chambers.” Viserys takes hold of Rhaenyras hand, looping their arms together, resting her hand against his forearm. “Ser Strong, come. We shall walk together.”

“My king.” Strong bows, gathering his papers from the table before moving to stand just behind the king and princess. 

Exiting down the stairs and out the ornate doors into the rather quiet corridor, Ser Westerling moves from his post beside the door to fall in step behind the group, keeping guard silently close behind as they begin to move throughout the halls. Rhaenyra peers over her shoulder, seeing her beloved guard striding behind them she offers an affectionate smile before turning her attentions back to her father and the conversation at hand.

Rhaenyra continued to gossip throughout their walk, only stopping to laugh or breath as Viserys listened intently, “I believe my gown has had at least fourteen variations before this one was deemed a success.” she sighs.

“I'm sure the dress will be lovely, Rhaenyra.” Viserys attempted to comfort, patting the back of her hand that was resting against his arm with his free hand. 

“We can only hope.” sighing, a deep rattling breath escaping her lips before her eyes met Viserys and her expression shifted into a relaxed smile, her whole demeanour relaxing. The closed mouth smile that spread across her face, creating tiny adorable wrinkles at the corners of her eyes with pink tinges to her fuller cheeks brought Viserys a comfort he sorely missed as they stroll through the halls together. “My pin holes have pin holes, so it better be worth it.”

“Hopefully its acceptable for i fear my wifes sanity may not hold on.” Viserys teased.

“Oh sevens! We shall never hear the end of it if Alicent finds the gown lacking tomorrow.” laughing at the thought, Rhaenyra knew all too well the stress a less than perfect dress would cause the already frazzled queen. She shuddered to think what Alicent would do in such an event. “Apologies but if the worst happens, I shall leave the keep and never return.” Viserys snorted, hearing her jest, covering his mouth with his hand to stifle his laughter.

Before Viserys could add anything further Rhaenyra hid a yawn behind her sleeve, her eyes scrunching tightly before relaxing into a dreary, tired gaze.

With a pat to her hand still resting against his arm, Viserys placed a kiss to her knuckles, “Go rest my dear. I plan to retire to my chambers after seeing to our guests. Hopefully the sleepwine will ease my thoughts enough to sleep the night away.”

Seeing Rhaenyra begin to argue, the thin lines forming around her eyes as her mind conjured up her best response to whittle down his concerns, Viserys clasped both her hands within his firmly, turning her attention fully to him.“Go. Ill have the kitchen send your supper to your chambers earlier than planned. And instructions to not to be disturbed.” His tone left no room for argument, Rhaenyra sighed, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes.

“Thank you father.” Rhaenyra whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Viserys cheek before turning to leave. “I bid you till morrow Ser strong. May we have our meeting perhaps after the celebrations settle? Ser Westerling, please watch over my father. I shall not be disturbed tonight.”

“Princess.” Strong bowed his head low, watching with the king as Rhaenyra steps away, her skirt twirling around her ankles as she turns to walk down the corridor, leaving the king and the hand in her wake. 

“She looks so much like her mother.” Viserys says quietly, a soft hint of fondness in his voice, his eyes watching as his daughter disappears around a corner.

“My king?”

“Rhaenyra, she…bears such an uncanny resemblance to Aemma more and more. Its difficult some days to… separate the two.” Images of his frails, soft, beautiful love came to mind. Ser Westerling watched on as the grey sunken features of the king, weary from the day were highlighted in the setting glow of the sun. He understood all too well the kings thoughts on the subject. 

“The princess will be ok, you grace. She’s strong. She will get through this.” The reassuring words from Westerling left Viserys smiling ever so softly, praying to the gods that he was right. He needed Rhaenyra to be strong. 

 The fog cover was slow to roll across the waters but quickly settled over Kingslanding, heavy and ominous, shifting only with the chilled wind left behind once the sun had disappeared over the horizon. Inside the keep, the guests had grown quiet slowly throughout the afternoons entertainment and once the evening set in, they began to disperse and a quiet began to settle throughout the corridors once more. Rooms were occupied and servants scurried the halls with food and tea, seeing to the guests still awake and not yet tucked away for a nights rest. Extra guards lined each hallway, lines of silver armour and stern expressions settling into position as doors slammed closed, echoing down long hallways as a few stragglers made their way to their chambers to turn in for the night. 

Hidden away deep within the keep, tucked under the warmth and security fire lit nursery, Aegon sat patient. With his back propped against a cushion, his knees arched in front as he sat in front of the roaring fire, the small boy waited. Resting against his lap sat a tattered copy of Valyrian childrens stories, given to him by Rhaenyra after one of his late night visits to check on her. Yellow tinged pages scrolled with fading ink twisting across the pages, decorated with cursive illustrations along the tops and the edges of each page, several little detailed figures dancing across the pages, enacting the tales into minimal cartoons in black ink.

He sits as still as he can muster, counting through the flickering stars he can spy through the window as he waits for Rhaenyra to visit him in the nursery, tucking him into bed while whispering to him in the hushed tones of the valyrian they had started to share between them. His bare feet dancing back and forth, his toes stretching as he occupied his imagination with the shadows moving in grotesque fascinations across the walls, the flickering light stretching and warping the figures high towards the ceiling.

The night everything had changed for Aegon replayed in his memories as he stared at the grey stone wall in front of him, the amber flicker across the wall blurring across his vision. If he stared hard enough, the shapes began to form into figures playing out scenes against the stone.   

Aegon had heard whispers that Rhaenyra was “sick” for days around the Keep. Maids whispering in hushed tones as they shuffled through the halls, witnessing Ser Harwin and other guards on higher alert than in previous days. Even his mother, the queen, appeared to have been set on edge and had begun to bite at her fingers, the blood often staining the sleeves of her gowns as she made attempts to disguise her hands. A nasty habit she often tapped Aegons own fingers to stop him from copying. After hearing the secrecy spreading through the Keep and having his questions remain unanswered Aegon opted to take it upon himself and snuck away from his nursemaid one night and managed to navigate the halls under the cover of shadows to Rhaenyras chambers.

The day the murmurings and whispers around the keep captured Aegons interest. Especially upon seeing his father, the king, appearing greyer and more haggard than usual on this one day that had now been burned into Aegons memory. Father had looked sad, Aegon noted, as he and his sister Heleana were escorted past him to their lessons by two guards and their nurses. Hands tightly resting upon his shoulders, Aegon was guided away from his father and down the long corridors towards the rooms where his tutor had been set up ready and waiting for Aegon to arrive. Stationed outside the door two more guards stood vigilant, unmoving as he approached before the door flew open and Aegon was pushed through the doorway followed closely by his nurse. The guards trailing behind stood either side of the door, hands resting against sword pommels as the thick carved wood faintly clicked shut behind them.

No amount of questioning proved successful and Aegon was left with more questions and very few answers by the time his lessons ended and he was escorted to the nursery to prepare for supper. For the entire lesson Aegons attention phased in and out, staring at the pages of the book spread across the table in front of him, his tutor's voice fading in and out as his attention wandered.

It wasnt until much later, when the day began to lapse with the sun setting into brilliant amber and Aegons lessons drew to a close that the first trickle of answers began to reveal themselves. Aegon slammed the book closed and handed it to the waiting hand of the tutor, giving his greetings before being escorted from the room by his nurse.

Stepping into the hallway Aegon was greeted by a passing ground of maids who curtsied to the young prince before continuing to walk. Just was they turned to chat amongst themselves Aegon could make out that the princess Rhaenyra was unwell, hadnt been seen all day and all maids and guards were given instruction to not disturb her chambers.

With a sharp tug to his shoulders, Aegon found himself pulled away from the gossip before he could hear anything else. But the young child had heard enough, enough to piece together the information that consumed his mind all the way back to the nursery. He shuffled over to the table by the fireplace once the door was opened for him and slumped down into one of the padded chairs, folding his hands atop the table surface as he waited for his supper to be delivered. His nurse hovered around him, preparing a bath for him to have after supper and tending to his baby sister, Helaena’s silent plea for food, causing the guards and nurse to summon her wet nurse. 

The heavier set, curved woman, no older than Aegons own mother, stepped into the room moments later, after being checked by the guards outside. She sighed and muttered about the security and the nonsense taking over the castle as she moved to take the wriggling baby in her arms. Aegon watched as she moved towards an armchair and sat down, presenting her chest to the babe to begin suckling before leaning back into the soft cushion of the chair. When Helaena was settled rapping against the door signalled supper was to be brought in for Aegon.

Not that Aegon noticed terribly much. From the moment the dishes were set in front of him, he barely acknowledged aside from polite greetings and prayers to the seven before being instructed to tuck into the meal. He tried. Poking at the foo with his silver fork, Aegon just couldnt muster the appetite he usually would. He couldnt remember the food nor any of the questions asked, if anyone tried to speak to him. The only thing Aegon could think about was the connection between the change in the atmosphere of the keep and it all leading back to his sister.

To Rhaenyra.

The keep had fallen into a heavy despair, a grey cloud circling amongst the corridors that Aegon couldnt help but wonder what was going on. What was no one saying? Even long after he was being tucked safely into bed, freshly washed and fragranced with flowered water and oils, his head hit the pillow and candles were extinguished one by one, fading the golden warmth into a chilled dark shadow. Aegons mind failed to settle long after the darkness was meant to take him into sleep.

Aegons eyes stared up at the ceiling, counting through Valyrian, stopping halfway before he would have to start over again. And the cycle would repeat, each time the silver haired boy growing more frustrated as sleep remained elusive. Not even the silence, enhanced only by the soft crackle of the dying fire in the hearth, could soothe the small boys nerves long enough for his eyes to close.

Turning onto his side, his hands tucked beneath his chin, his paled eyes darkened in the shadows, glittering gold and bronze with the embers sparking from fracturing logs in the hearth. The tiny smoke plumes rising from the ashes danced through the air, his mind wandering to create some story, some poetry to match the elegant dance through the air, in hopes the visions might fade into a dream. But the lull refused to come.

Sprawling back onto his back, blanket tangling between his feet, his gaze tilted to the door. He watched the handle, listening to the muffled rhythm of boots outside, fading into the distance as the halls fell into silence once more. Sighing, his eyes fell back to the ceiling. The small boy knew it was dangerous, he would certainly get into trouble if he was found missing from the nursery, not wishing to disturb the guards outside his door. But his imagination was overloaded, and he knew only one person would be able to put his fears to rest. 

Quietly pushing back the covers, he climbed from the bed and grabbed the robe that was draped over the end of the bed, slipping his arms through the sleeves before tying the sash tied snug around his waist. Aegon threw a cautious glance towards the crib containing Helaena. Just a small lump form in a blanket, peacefully sleeping and lacking the sleeplessness that tormented Aegon.

Sliding his feet into his slippers, Aegon glanced one last time before quietly tiptoeing towards the door. His tiny fingers took hold of the handle, nervous, as he gave a tug, pulling the handle down fighting past the groan of the worn metal. Peering through a small crack in the door, Aegon spied the guards missing from outside his door, the eerily empty halls sending a shiver down his spine once his feet lacked the fear his body held and pushed past the frame out into the open corridor. The door clicked behind his shoulder as he peered around, waiting for a guard to appear to escort him back to bed.

But none arrived.

A frown crossed his tiny brow. No guard was present, unlike so many nights. The corridor was eerily quiet, vacant of any movement.

With a deep breath Aegon treaded the familiar path towards the chambers that held the object of his fears, his sister. His slippers tapped against the eerie silence of the corridors, winding through the passageways, narrowly avoiding being caught but with some luck Aegon had managed to evade guards and maids each time before he managed to arrive to the halls that housed Rhaeyras chambers. Rounding the corner Aegon halted as he spotted Ser Westerling stationed outside Rhaenyra chambers, a stern gaze scanning the vicinity, spotting the young boy in the dimmed light almost instantly.

The small boy gulped under the intense gaze, the older guard making Aegon nervous as he cautiously stepped forward.

“Prince Aegon?” Westerling whispered as the young child stepped closer slowly, tiny fingers fisted at his sides to stave off the chill and nerves coasting his skin in goosebumps along his arms, even tucked snugly behind the fabric of his sleep gown. The guard did not appear disturbed by Aegons appearance, though he couldnt help but note his eyes searching for the lacking of a guard near the young prince.

“What brings the young prince to the princesses chambers so late?” Westerling quieres, attempting to not spook the poor child. 

Westerling watched the small child clench his fingers by his side, purple orbs watching the door just behind him before drifting to the floor, unsure as to his next move. Westerlings eyes trailed from Aegon to the door and back again, watching the figdeted and attention moving past the guards shoulder to spy the closed door. “Would you like to check on the princess, prince aegon?” Westerling offered. He knew the prince and princess werent close, but the small boy had wandered from the nursery with a purpose it seemed. 

“I… heard she wasn't well.” Aegon whispered, unable to look up from the ground, shuffling his slipper clad feet against the stone.

“Well no she isnt, my prince,” Westerling replied, “The princess should be asleep but if you’re really quiet, you can check on her for me.” his thick fingers came to rest on the handle, gesturing to the door as Aegons eyes met his own. Aegon gave a nod.

Pressing a small finger against his lips, Aegon stepped closer as Westerling silently opened the door for the prince, allowing the young child to peer through the gap before he slide through the gap into the dimming candlelight and fluttering embers fading softly into the greys and deep blues of the night which coated the room in a chill. Aegon shivered, but not because the room itself was cold. The dying fire provided just enough warmth that the enclosed room was toasty the moment he stepped through the threshold and the door closed with a thud behind him.

Books and vials strewn across the table just inside the door, a heavy floral scent clung to the air, attempting to disguise a thick metallic scent Aegon couldn't quite place. Discarded plates and utensils, still hosting an untouched meal sat next to several of the overturned vials. Continuing to enter the room Aegon eyed the partitions separating the sitting room from the sleeping chambers, partitions that did little to silence the sniffling Aegon could hear.

He stopped just before the entrance to the bed chamber, debating whether to look around the corner or to just turn around and leave before Rhaenyra noticed him in her chambers. But hearing another faint sniffle Aegon pushed forward and stepped closer to the opening, peering slowly around the frame towards the bed. Even through the dim candle lighting, Aegon could make out the shape of his sister nestled beneath a pile of blankets and pillows, formed into a secure cocoon around her shifting form.

Resting against the largest of the pillows, the crown of Rhaenyras head hidden amongst the splayed silver tresses covering where the blankets had not quite been pulled high enough to hide the rest of her face, her nose buried in the damp pillow as she watches the smattering a stars outside the window one of her maids left open for her, the shimmering crystal white against the sky. Having not moved for what felt like hours, Rhaenyra lost track of the amount of times she had counted each star, 1….2….3… but each time her mind would shift in focus and a memory would draw forth to the front of her mind.

Every time. One more tear dampening the pillow tucked against her cheek, hiding her bruised face from the world. The only witness to her pain, the darkness and countless stars watching down from the pure black canvas beyond. He body throbbed, every mark, every bite a searing hot poker resting against the tender flesh left behind. Bruises formed along her pale skin, mottled reds and purples, angry and vibrant that even the heaviest of cover would be unable to hide her wounds.

She dared not leave her chambers, unable to bring herself to step one toe through the threshold. And she dared not allow many to see her in such a weakened state. Her father, the queen and a few trusted maids were the only people granted access into her chambers. But even then she found herself so ashamed of her appearance, she would hide behind the partition or would stare out the window, unable to meet the sympathetic gaze of whoever entered the room.

Shifting against the pillows, she attempted to move her body into a more comfortable position as pain began to pulse along her muscles, tightening the long lines of her back, causing her to hiss as she attempted to move. Her legs tangled beneath one of the blankets, catching around her ankles, trapping her feet. Reaching beneath the blankets she tried to detangle her limbs but halted when her eyes made out the faint shape hiding behind the partitions.

Rising against her palms, Rhaenyra pushed her upper body up off the bed, peering around the screen waiting to see who was standing in the darkness. She could feel her heart beat shuddering beneath her chest, growing rapidly unsteady as she watched the unknown shape shuffle back to hide where the candlelight couldnt reach them, darting behind the partition as her vision began to adjust to the dark. Before she could open her mouth to find her voice and whisper into the darkness, the figure moved and the shadows faded into the moonlight from outside, softly illuminating Aegon in a silver glow as he spied from behind the partition, little purple eyes peering for the dark.

She was startled seeing her brother, “Aegon? Are you ok? What's wrong?” her words trailed together, one after another, questions melding into a long line of curiosity and concern. The small boy clung to his robes, scrunching the fabric between his palms. Watching, Rhaenyra couldnt help but worry as she noted the lack of guard around her little brother. 

Aegon stepped around the partition separating the bedchamber, moving to stand near the end of the bed, “I heard Nyra was sick and I was worried.” he muttered, so softly Rhaenyra would think she misheard his words. 

“You were worried about me?” Rhaenyras eyes widened, her heart skipping a beat before the corners of her mouth fought to flick into a smile, despite the throbbing pain radiating from her face. The tender warmth spreading throughout her chest welled tears to the corners of her eyes as she watched the small boy so unsure as to what he should do or say.

Aegon gave a small tentative nod, his eyes trailing down to the ground to avoid her own. This had been the longest the pair had spent in each others company, Rhaenyra noted to herself, watching her brother shift from one foot to the other, clenching fabric tightly within his hands. 

“Come here.” She gestures, holding out a hand towards Aegon. His eyes drift to meet hers, unsure as his feet shuffled forwards against the rug underfoot, moving towards the side of the bed. Kicking off his slippers to the ground with a thud, Rhaenyra hooks her hands under his arms and lifts him onto the bed beside her, shifting the covers down to tuck the boy under the covers next to her. Arranging themselves under the blankets, Aegon smoothed the blankets across his lap before his eyes traced along Rhaenyras arm, along her neck to meet her gaze.

Aegon gasps seeing the bruising across her beautiful face, his fingers reaching out to gently stroking the puckered and angry markings across her cheeks and forehead, freshly dried blood clinging to the welts left behind. “You're hurt?” There were tears shimmering in Aegons eyes as he peered at her face, his lips pouting in attempts to prevent the tears from flowing down his cheeks. He wanted to be brave for her. But seeing up close the pain in his sisters usually bright, sparkling lavender purple orbs dulled and rimmed red from crying, the small lump forming within Aegons throat threatened to break into a stream of tears, the pain across her expression leaving an ache across his chest. 

With a shake of her head Rhaenyra tucked Aegons crown under her chin, “I'm ok little dragon. I'm all better now. I have the best protector.” Rhaenyra whispered, hoping to reassure the concerns of the tiny frame curling up against her chest. She smiled tearfully, pulling the small boy tighter into a hug as she fell back against the pillows behind her, snuggling the pair into the warmth of the pile of blankets.

In that moment, holding her brother to her chest, the warmth radiating from his tiny frame, Rhaenyra didn't know she needed such simple comfort. The brother she didn't necessarily want, the sibling she wasn't overly keen to have thrust into her life, was here holding her tightly, worried for her. He came for her and reached out to her in the darkness.

He cared for her.

The realisation hit and the lump forming in Rhaenyras throat took hold and the tears began to pool along her lashes, trailing along her cheeks. She tried hard not to sob, containing the tremor coursing through her chest as she silently wept. Aegons tiny hand traced soft circles long the robe covering her arm, a soothing repetitive motion that swelled along her muscles, cinching around her heart as the warm saltiness of her tears pooled along her lashes before tracing trails along her temple and nose, soaking the pillow tucked against her cheek.

“Are you crying?” he whispered against her neck, feeling the trail soaking against his crown, dampening strands sticking them together. His fingers tightened against her arm, halting in their movement.

It took Rhaenyra a while to reply, sniffling silently as she held tightly to his much smaller form. Pressing a kiss to the crown of his head Rhaenyra tucked Aegon securely under her chin as the faint breath sounds faded into gentle snores against her collarbone, letting her know her brother had fallen asleep. With a small sad smile, her cheek pressed to his head she murmured against his hair, her breath tickling the shell of his ear, “I am, little dragon. But it's ok. I'll be ok.” She tried to assure Aegon as her arms shifted, pulling him as close as she physically could before sleep slowly began to creep in, fading her vision in dark circles as her eyes closed tightly. The discomfort of her wounds easing as sleep weaved through her tired muscles, relaxing her frame into the soft plush of the bedding.

As the soft gulps for air through her silent sobs began to ease, sleep took hold completely, the constriction in her chest easing, a fragile, hope filled calm soothed the terrible ache left behind. A fraction of the torment that twisted around her heart, like poison vines amongst a beautiful garden, slowly began to ease. A heavy weight lifting from her chest, soothed by the comfort of someone she least expected to find her in her suffering.

Outside the comfort of the warm, darkened chambers that housed the slumbering pair, guards trailed behind Alicent and Viserys, wrought with panic as they searched for the recently missing small prince. Alerted by the nurse checking on her charges, she discovered the messily folded blankets and the lack of a prince once tucked securely into the plush bedding.

“Aegons missing!” The King spat in anger, his chest heaved as he and his ladywife stalked down the long hall, lacking all the fanfare as they approached Westerling. Two guards flanked with side, their hands prepped against the pommel of their swords, eyes scanning the halls, ready to draw should they have need. Alicents skirts fluttered wildly against her legs, her long waves flowing to the small of her back free, her much shorter stature struggling to keep in time with the king, his footsteps slowing only as they approached the aged guard outside Rhaenyras chambers.

“Your graces.” Ser Westerling greeted. The king stopped in front of the guard, Alicent standing just behind him as her eyes closed, withholding the attempted sobs threatening to escape her parted lips, heavy broken breaths escaping as she attempted to settle her racing heart. Her hand pressed to her chest as the king quickly explained the situation to Westerling, who aside from the curiosity of the prince managing to escape what should have been a guarded room, stood patiently waiting for the king to finish. “Your graces, the ummm missing small one you seek.” Opening the door with one hand he held his free hand up, pressing a finger to his mouth, flicked his gaze towards the silent cavern of the princesses chambers. Viserys and Alicent passed a look of confusion briefly between themselves before quietly entering the room one after the other, stepping into the darkness with care.

Westerling held the door ajar, the triangle stretch of fading orange light the only true source of light, letting the king know, which Viserys was grateful for, should any issues occur Westerling was prepared to intervene. Having only left the side of his ailing daughter mere hours prior, watching as she was tended to by a maester and maids, tending to the wounds that now clearly marred her skin for all to see, Viserys was reluctant to enter her chambers while he knew she attempted to rest. Especially without a proper announcement. What if she stirred and caught them within her chambers? The darkness hiding who they were to her, and her reaction? 

But the sight that greeted the king and queen as they rounded the partition was nothing they could have ever prepared for. Where the soft lull of breathing could be heard, they halted in their tentative steps, taking in the scene before them. There on the bed Rhaenyra had her arms tightly wrapped around the boy, his hand resting against her shoulder, tucked under his chin. His lips moved in dream, eyelids fluttering as he clung to his sister, even in sleep. Aegon could hardly be seen from his position, tucked snuggly against his sister, curled around her so tightly, Viserys knew there would be no extracting his son from the cocoon the pair had formed.

Content to watch from his position, Viserys watched. Watched as his eldest child, his pride and joy held her brother so tightly to her chest, a first. A rare state to witness. Never in his years could he predict, no dream could have painted such a picture as the one in front of him. Viserys noted the tremble rippling through Rhaenyra’s shoulder, wordless sobs even in sleep. There was a shake, ever so subtle, before her body relaxed once more, pressing her cheek against Aegons crown, cradling him to her body as she snuggled down further into the blankets, escaping the chill that had begun to form in the air.

With a smile Viserys laid a hand on Alicents arm, her stunned expression giving way to look her husband in the eye before they turned and walked away, Viserys throwing one last glance over his children before they crossed the threshold of Rhaenyras chambers, back out into the corridor. The door was sealed behind them by Westerling, straightening his spine as he resumed his position.

“I dont understand. Why is Aegon here.” Alicent queried, peering between her husband and the guard, confusion clouding her gaze. 

Westerling cleared his throat, “Prince Aegon appeared in the corridor a mere hour before your graces did, saying he was worried about the princess. Managed to escape the nursery undetected and evade everyone. He’s been here ever since.” he explained.

Viserys frowned. “How could such a small child escape his guards? Why would he come to Rhaenyra?”

“I believe, my king, he was concerned having heard whispers of the princess being ‘unwell’.” Westerling offered from what Aegon had told him only moments earlier.

Alicent looked to Viserys, who in turn sighed, unsure as to how to proceed with the information they received.

“Lets leave it alone for now. We can talk to Rhaenyra and Aegon in the morrow.” Viserys soothed, resting a hand on Alicents shoulder, “for now lets return to rest. I believe we all could use some rest, my dear.” Alicent gave a nod, excusing herself from her husbands side to turn, following the winding path of hallways to return to her own chambers, Kingsguard in toe. Viserys watched her disappear and sighed, stroking his temples between his thumb and forefinger.

“Tomorrow, Ser. We shall have to discuss the guards minding the prince and how this lax in security occurred.” Viserys ordered, his tone harsher than he normally would have liked.

“Of course my king.” Westerling responded, with a short bow of his head.

Peering between the closed door to the guard, Viserys whispered, “Watch over them.”

With a tilt of his head Westerling straightened his spine, his broad shoulders pulling back, standing at attention in front of the door, “Always, my king.”

With those final words Viserys turned and started for his own chambers. The image of Rhaenyra and Aegon present in his mind long after the door clap behind him, the blazing fire greeting him as he folded into a chair by the hearth. The days past had worn heavy upon the aging king, the images of his own daughter in pain, beaten and bloodied he feared would never ease from his mind. The sobs, broken painful hideous sobs that Viserys wishes he had never heard, the pain constricting around his heart as he held his own child in her grief.

The grief of her innocence, her freedom. Her choice.

He sighed, taking a sip of his sleep wine as he stared into the flickering flames held within the hearth, holding onto the image of Rhaenyra embracing her sibling so tightly, holding onto that dim light that everything would be ok eventually. 

As the night passed and the morning arrived, the golden warmth slowly chasing away the cold darkness, Aegon stirred when the sunshine touched his cheek, opening one eye as he stirred within his sisters arms, having not moved the entire night. With a smile he snuggled further into the crook of Rhaenyras neck, the soft smell of jasmine soap filling his senses as he remained content listening to the low, quiet rise and fall of her breaths as she slept. He did not wish to leave, so there he stayed until Rhaenyra rose herself, tightly hugging the tot before she eveutally released him, stretching her long back before collapsing back against the pillows next to Aegon.

Her fingers found his sides and gave a tickle, eliciting a giggle that left Aegon rolling side to side as she attacked his ticklish spots, Rhaenyra herself genuinely smiling for the first time in days.

Back in the present the creaking of the door opening brought Aegon back from his memory, the thin strip of light casting against the floor as the unannounced but greatly anticipated visitor to the nursery, which had Aegon curling tightly around himself in excitement. A tiny pit formed in his stomach as his eyes watched, waiting for the door to open fully. Through a narrow gap a figure slipped through, quickly sealing the door behind them before dusting their hands across their robe and straightening stray hairs against their crown.

Rhaenyra stood the picture of elegance, even in the softened amber firelight. Dressed plainly in an ankle length cream coloured night gown, her arms covered by a silk embroidered robe which hung against her shoulders and sailed across the ground as she moved, her hair hanging in loose waves falling to the small of her back, the silver of her tresses shimmering pristine in the firelight.

Aegon was sure he had never seen anyone as beautiful as his sister. A wide toothy grin crossed his face, straining against his baby fattened cheeks as Rhaenyra approached him, falling to the ground beside Aegon with a kiss to the top of his head.

“Apologies my prince. I had to slip past the guards which proved difficult in my night wear.” she giggled, crossing her legs at the ankle, brushing the skirt of her gown to sit comfortable along her legs.

“Its ok.” Aegon shrugged, truly unbothered. He knew rhaenyra would come for him.

Rhaenyra pouted, “I hope you didn't wait long, little dragon.”

Shaking his head Aegon gave a small smile to his sister, “I dont mind. I knew you would come.” Aegon assured, clutching the book in his lap.

“Im glad. But to make up for my tardiness I have a present,” From the pocket of her gown Rhaenyra produced a small red lacquered box, “Aunt Rhaenys brought this with her and told me to hide it and share it with my favourite dragon.” she held open the small box, letting Aegon take a piece before replacing the lid with a sharp click.

“Whose your favourite dragon?” Aegon asked, genuinely curious.

“Weeeelllll dont tell Syrax but,” Rhaenyra arched her brow, slowly smiling as she teased, pretending to think, her finger pressing to the corner of her smile, “You my little egg!” she exclaimed, pointing before tickling at Aegons side, rewarded in turn with a high pitched giggle that faded into soft laughter.

Flicking through the tome resting against Aegons knees, the pair fell into whispers about the wedding coming up, all the visitors that had arrived throughout the days, what their days had been filled with in between reading passages, tracing the sentences etched into the page.

“Have you been practising your sword play?” Rhaenyra asked, turning a page with the tip of her fingers.

“I have. I'm not very good.” Aegon sighed, the small pout of his lips, the serious expression that spread across his tiny face. Rhaenyra wrapped an arm around his shoulders pulling him to her side with a peck to his forehead. 

“Thats ok. You will improve with practice.” she assured, knowing how hard her brother had been training in the yards with his guards and instructor, “And one day you will grow to be big and strong and feared throughout the lands.”

“And I can protect you.”

Rhaenyra was glad for the low lighting, hiding the startled expression flashing across her face hearing the honesty within Aegons statement.

“Protect me?” she whispered, not truly asking, the words just escaping her lips.

“So that no one ever hurts you again.”

The words were simple, a quiet statement slipping between his lips, leaving a sense of dread forming within Rhaenyras chest. Aegon trailed his eyes to look towards Rhaenyras face,“The bruises… I know you tried to hide them but I saw them. You were hurt.”

Closing her eyes, Rhaenyra prayed, swallowing the urge to tear up. The innocence in Aegons words. She hoped deep within her soul she had protected him from seeing her in such a state. But it appeared her efforts were for not. 

She took a deep breath, offering a small nod, “I was, sweet boy,” Rhaenyra pauses, sorting through all the possible responses she could give, biting her bottom lip between her teeth. Her head dropped to meet Aegons eyes, her lips forming into a very small smile, attempting to reassure the small boy, “But I'm feeling much better now.”


Mostly.


Sighing, Rhaenyra gave her brother a cuddle, taking small calming breaths before she pulled away, pushing aside the ache forming in her chest in favour of the warmth and comfort her brother was unknowingly providing her.

Pulling away, Rhaenyra stretched her back, running her hands down her shins, before sitting back, “Now what say we snuggle under those warm covers over there and get some rest?” she suggested, “It's going to be a long day tomorrow.”

Aegon smothered a yawn with his hands and gave a nod. Smiling Rhaenyra clambered from the floor and picked Aegon up, folding his smaller frame to her torso as they shuffled from their pillow nest to the waiting bed. ”Ser Strongs daughter is to be wed in the morrow and we all have an important role to play.” she whispered in his ear, pulling the covers back far enough to climb into the plush comforts of the bedding.

“Is that why uncle came back to visit?” Rhaenyra halted at the innocent question from Aegon, her fingers clenching against the blankets.

“Uncle daemon? No egg. Father called him back for…. An important task.” she pauses, maintaining careful placement of her words, “Some royal duties only he can attend to.” Which was true. Rhaenyra just didn't wish to stress the reason behind those duties he was being trusted with.

Tucking the warm blankets around his shoulders, Rhaenyra climbed in next to him, resting against the headboard, letting the tot arrange himself against her side, his hand tucking under his chin.

“You don't seem pleased to have him back home.” Aegon noted, not missing the joy that uncle Daemons arrival would usually illicit.

“Im…” Rhaenyra paused, biting at her lip as she weighed her responses. Daemon is one of the last subjects she really wants to be discussing with Aegon, but his curiosity will only pique if she answers too vaguely or too honest, “cautious. I feel like I've spent my whole life waiting for him to come back and now he’s here…”

Rhaenyra couldnt place the feeling that settled in her chest. The sinking pool, a void threatening to sweep her away. The moment Daemons eyes found her, standing in the presence once more Rhaenyra could remember being a little girl in those moments, racing into his waiting stretched out arms, a ready welcome embrace. But now standing within reach, a deep seeded desire that she hoped remained dormant slowly began to try to take life.

He watched her as if no time had passed, no consequence that mattered. No life completely turned on its head. And it frightened her. For the first time in her life she felt the illusion shattering, much like her own father once must have experienced.

“It's like seeing a stranger.” she whispers, the tip of her finger tracing the thread detailing of the blanket spread flat against her stomach. It really felt like she was seeing Daemon for the first time. The real him. And it terrified her.

“Like a ghost?” Aegon whispered.

Swallowing back the pit forming within her throat, Rhaenyra gave a short nod, “In a way. I'm lost in a memory. Like an illusion.”

Within the silence permeating the room, the soft crackle of the fire place soothed the tired head of the small child against Rhaenyras shoulder. Rhaenyra could feel her own eyes growing heavy, and she knew Aegon was not far behind, his soft breathes falling into a lulling rhythm.

Pressing a kiss to his crown, “Come. Let us rest. We have an important task to do come morrow.”

“Will we have fun at the wedding?” Aegons yawned once more against her neck, peering up through weary, sleep clouded orbs. Rhaenyra tucks him further under her chin, a soft smile gracing her features as they snuggle beneath the covers.

“I hope so. Your mother has put a great deal of effort into ensuring this wedding is vibrant and lively. A perfect celebration.” Rhaenyra had witnessed first hand the level of detail Alicent had gone to for the wedding. “Annnnd if that fails to occur, we shall have fun together. Correct?” she  continued, offering the young prince a promise she knew he would never pass on.

“Yes!” the exhausted enthusiasm Aegon attempted to show made Rhaenyra chuckled, burying her nose into his hair as she closed her eyes and allowed her body to fully relax back into the pillows behind her.

From within the walls, piercing through a tiny sliver cut into the wall, allowing a glimpse into the darkening room, a familiar silver haired warrior watched and listened in confusion as he captured only fragments of the conversation. A pale face creased with confusion, narrowing as he watched the figures curl underneath the blankets, slowly slipping into dreams as the dying orange glow slowly replaced by the cold mask of the darkness enveloping the room.

Turning away from the crack in the wall, Daemon made his way back through the narrow curves of the long forgotten passageways, these sets of tunnels long forgotten past the days of his and Viserys' youth. Could he be the last to know of these tunnels? To truly know the secrets the castle held. His footsteps at first were small, quietly tracing through the maze of tunnels but slowly his strides increased as the frustration began to mount, needing to escape the hallways to the safety of his chambers before he turned and wretched the door open into his nephews chambers where the target of his ire lay soundly sleeping.

The honesty held within the words his niece had whispered into the shadows, hoping none but the small child tucked under her arm as she whispered the truth of her assessment at the mention of him, set his blood to fire, his jaw clenching with tight strings along his cheeks which threatened to crack a tooth under the pressure.

Could the time passed have truly created such a cavern between them? To where they were nothing more than strangers, rather than the kindred souls that understood each other unlike any other?