Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Nursery, Maegor’s Holdfast, Red Keep, Kings Landing, 96 A.C.
The fire in the hearth was beginning to fade as Aemma Targaryen walked into the nursey.
The nursery maid, Cedra, was in the process of opening the curtains to allow the morning light into the room revealing the Myrish carpet floors to the grey stone walls and then transition to a mural on the ceiling of a blue sky, depicting dragons with their wings spread in flight.
She moved quietly towards the cradle that was covered in a red velvet canopy, she moved the fabric aside as she gazed at the precious contents that was held within the cherry wood crib.
She couldn’t help the smile that bloomed across her face as she gazed down at her daughter, Visenya Targaryen.
She’d dressed her in an Arryn blue nightgown last night and wrapped her in the Targaryen crest blanket that had covered her daughter since she was just minutes old.
She placed her hand on her daughter’s chest and patted her gently to coax her daughter from her slumber and open her eyes.
Cedra moved to close the canopy curtain to allow the light of the morning sun to fall upon her daughter causing her silver hair to refract from the light.
“I can hardly believe you’re already over a year old. It’s feels like it was only yesterday the midwife placed you within my arms and I was remade from a maiden into a mother.”
The light also began to refract from the egg that was placed beside her daughter.
Every morning since it was placed next to Visenya she’d admire the beautiful sight, for the egg was truly one of a kind.
It was a sapphire blue egg, echoing the colors of her birth house, with swirls of a vibrant bronze that followed the raised scales of the egg.
Aemma continued to lightly pat Visenya’s chest, waiting patiently for her awaken as she gazed at the egg admiring the dance of light happening along its surface.
A soft coo led her to focus her attention to her daughter’s face. Her pale white skin glowed under the morning light and her eyelids opened to reveal the beautiful violet eyes underneath.
“Ah, there you are my dear. Good morning my precious little dragon.”
Visenya’s arms came up to rub her eyes due to the bright light, her face scrunching up to show her displeasure of the light.
“Ah, none of that let me see your beautiful eyes my dear.” Aemma gently pushed the small limbs down.
Visenya looked up at her and smiled up at her, she then shifted her attention to her crib mate and rolled onto her side to pat her egg.
“Come now dear, I know you love your egg but it is time to feed you my dear.”
Aemma braced herself as she reached down and picked up Visenya, because she knew what was coming.
Visenya’s high pitched screams cut through the air in the chamber, letting its occupants and the guards posted outside know her displeasure in parting from her egg.
“Shh, shh, shh, shh, my dear, come now it is time for you to have your breakfast and change. Once it’s done then you can return to your crib,” Aemma said as she tried to calm Visenya down.
She cradled her daughter’s head to rest on her shoulder as she walked toward the chair, patting her back as she walked.
After she sat down and spent several minutes trying to calm her down, she bared her left breast and moved Visenya down so she could latch on. She held her small hand in hers running her finger along the back of her daughter’s hand.
Though it was customary for the highborn to employ a wet nurse to feed their children, Aemma firmly denied this tradition, believing that the milk her body produced suited her daughter better than a random woman.
For the next several minutes the only sound in the chamber was the sound of the Cedra coaxing the fire back to life and the sound of her daughter’s swallows as she fed.
The maid then walked over to her to hand Aemma a cloth which she then draped across her right shoulder, after Visenya indicated she was finished she moved her to her shoulder and started to pat her back.
After hearing the customary burp, she then handed Visenya over to the maid for her to change and dress her daughter while she went through the motions to make herself presentable again.
“Make sure that she is ready for the celebration by this afternoon, I will be back to feed her at noon.”
“As you wish your highness,” the nursery replied as she stepped back from placing Visenya back into her crib.
Aemma stood from the chair and moved to look upon her daughter. She chuckled as she saw she was back in her original position before she was disturbed, on her side as she pat her egg.
She kissed her cheek and then made towards the door because she had other things to attend to.
Queen’s Ballroom, Maegor’s Holdfast, Red Keep, Kings Landing, 96 A.C.
The two heavy oak doors groaned their protest as the two guards opened the doors to allow Aemma entry into the Queen’s Ballroom, the doors finally gave up the fight and opened to reveal the large chamber within.
The beaten silver mirrors that were placed behind all of the wall scones in the room gleamed not only from the flames of the candles but from the light coming in from the high arched windows that made took up the south wall of the room.
The room was decorated in Targaryen colors of black and red, the servants were arranging the plates and cutlery on the tables that were laid out according to her instructions, under the supervision of Maegor’s Holdfasts’ House Steward, in preparations for the feast that will take place in the evening to celebrate her good-brother Daemon’s name-day.
She made her way to the long sandalwood table that was placed in front of the main fireplace of the room, hanging above the fire the Targaryen crest was displayed in glory.
The three occupants of the table stopped their conversation to turn towards her as she made her way to join them at the table.
“Please accept my apologies for my tardiness, Visenya wasn’t in a cooperative mood this morning,” Aemma informed them as she approached the table. She curtsied to her King and grandfather Jaehaerys Targaryen and her good father Baelon Targaryen and sat in the chair that her husband Viserys had pulled out for her.
Before he stepped away, she lifted her hand to his cheek and coaxed him down for a chaste kiss.
“Thank you, husband,” her voice full of warmth as she gazed up at him with her pale violet eyes.
“It was my pleasure,” Viserys countered back to her as he returned to his seat.
“How was our little dragon this morning?” he asked as the servants moved to serve them their food to break their fast.
“She was in a very happy and agreeable mood until I took her into my arms to feed her and she let her displeasure be known, she didn’t want to part from her egg this morning.”
“So, she was in the same mood she is in every morning since her egg was placed beside her.” Her good-father Baelon remarked as he picked up his cup and gestured for the serving maid to refill his cup.
Aemma couldn’t help but laugh at this, because of how true the statement was. Visenya’s egg was placed into her crib when she was just one moon old. Before this event occurred, she was able to pick her up with no fuss from her little infant daughter. Yet, every day since it had become a daily ritual of Aemma’s, or rather a battle, to pull her daughter away from her sapphire egg.
“Is there still no sign of the egg beginning to hatch?” Baelon asked her.
“No, there’s still been no movement from the hatchling within. The egg is still warm to the touch so it yet lives but it seems it’s still not ready to come out of its shell.”
Even after Aemma says these words she can’t help but feel a sense of anxiety. The egg had been Visenya’s constant companion for eleven moons now and still the egg remained unhatched.
“There is no telling when an egg will hatch, it’s true that some hatch within days or weeks but others can take years or decades. The ultimate decision is up to the dragon within and no one else. Fear not good-daughter, I have a feeling the day will come soon when Visenya will have a new crib mate. That egg is meant to be her’s. On the day I went to the Dragonpit to select her egg and I held it in my hands the warmth coming from the egg near burned my hands.” Jaehaerys remarked as he saw Aemma’s expression wanting to calm her anxiety.
“Thank you Grandfath-,” Aemma replied before she was cut off from the sound of the chamber doors groaning open once more to reveal her good-brother Daemon Targaryen.
He had a wide grin on his face that radiated joy as he strolled into the room towards the table. Seeing the look on his face Aemma braced herself for whatever was about to occur. She was fond of her good-brother, when she first married Viserys and was adjusting to living in the Red Keep, Daemon had helped her adapt to her new environment that contrasted so deeply from when she’d lived at the Eyrie in the Vale.
Daemon Targaryen, a boy that was coming into adulthood, who the smallfolk have already crowned with the title of the Rogue Prince due to his dashing, daring, and rash temperament. His figure was a familiar site at the Street of Silk within King’s Landing. It was a well-known fact that the young prince was a frequent visitor to the high-end brothels.
Aemma was sure that there’d be more than a dozen rumored dragonseeds by now if she hadn’t been forced to witness the talk Baelon gave to his son and the instructions and guidance he’d given him in order to prevent such an occurrence. She’d been as mortified as Daemon to be included in this event.
Yet, Baelon insisted she should join the discussion for when the day would come her own son was of age and beginning to show interest in women.
Aemma would personally prefer to leave it to Viserys.
Aemma shook her head and fanned her face to fight back the red flush she had no doubt was showing on her face.
She glanced at the other occupants at the table and saw they were also bracing themselves. Because there was only one possible situation that would cause this.
Today was Daemon’s fifteenth name-day.
The day they’d learn whether or not he would receive his Soulmate mark or not.
“Send a raven to the Vale with the joyous news that my arranged marriage to Rhea Royce is to be called off!”
After stating this to them, Deamon grabbed a cup of wine and toasted the room, before downing the entire cup.
Soulmate marks are rare, it’s said that a family is considered truly blessed if they have just one of their blood receive a mark in a century.
The Targaryen’s had been blessed more than any other family in recorded history not for the amount of Soulmate marks in their lineage, but for how often the event occurred in the bloodline of the dragons.
If one were to open to the page of recorded soulmates within the Targaryen family, they’d discover a list of four entries
Aegon Targaryen was bonded to his sisters Visenya and Rhaenys Targaryen.
Jaehaerys Targaryen was bonded to his sister Alysanne Targaryen.
Rhaenys Targaryen was bonded to Corlys Velaryon.
Baelon Targaryen was bonded to his sister Alyssa Targaryen.
In the 96 years after Aegon’s Conquest, members of the Targaryen family have received four couples bonded together.
Yet now it seemed there would be an addition entry added to the record.
Daemon Targaryen would be bonded to who?
She was certain this question was crossing all of their minds right now.
Aemma watched as Viserys laid down his utensils, the meal on his plate no longer appetizing after hearing his brother’s statement, because he’d also concluded what she, her uncle, and her grandfather had realized.
There was no way to predict who’d be Daemon’s Soulmate.
Yet, looking back on their history it was very likely that the individual would be of Targaryen descent and currently there were only two possible candidates.
Rhaenys’s three-year-old daughter Laena Velaryon and Aemma’s one-year-old daughter Visenya Targaryen.
“This is joyous news, Daemon.” Jaehaerys said “Let us see the mark.”
Daemon walked to the head of the table towards his grandfather pushing up the right sleeve of his tunic to reveal the white band that encircled his wrist.
Jaehaerys took his arm into his right hand and softly ran his fingers over the mark while running his left hand through his white beard. His eyes held a light in them Aemma hadn’t seen often, the only time she saw that look in his eyes was when he was in the presence of his sister-wife and soulmate Alysanne Targaryen.
“Now that this event has occurred, it is now time for your father to fully instruct you in how a Soulmate mark works.” Jaehaerys looked to his son and heir upon stating this.
Baelon nodded and stood from his chair and pulled his second-born son into an embrace. She saw that his grip on Daemon was tight, though she couldn’t tell if it was due to joy or something else.
“Come along my son, we will break our fast in my solar.”
Baelon Targaryen’s Solar, Maegor’s Holdfast, Red Keep, King’s Landing, 96 A.C.
Daemon followed his father into his solar.
The room was filled with the light of the sun coming through the floor to ceiling windows that faced the east sky, highlighting the dark tones of the oak furniture within the room.
His House’s Banner was hanging on the west wall, the light highlighting the red three headed dragon on the black field.
His father moved to the small table that was placed in front of the windows and sat down in one of the chairs.
Daemon moved to join him and sat down, looking at his father’s face as he was gazing outside the windows.
Before Daemon could say a work, a knock interrupted the silence in the room.
“Enter.”
Hearing confirmation from the room occupants, a maid entered the room with a tray, she curtsied then placed the plates onto the table along with two cups and a pitcher of wine.
Daemon ignored the maid as she then left the room, he grabbed the pitcher and filled the cups with the Arbor Gold wine.
Daemon was a man of action, he didn’t like to delay anything, wanting his father to hurry and tell him what he needed to know. He was impatient, despite this he didn’t move to break the silence, waiting for his father to break out of his melancholy.
Daemon knew his father was happy for him to be marked.
Yet, he knew the joy Baelon felt was bittersweet, for it brought the memories of his mother, Alyssa Targaryen forward once more.
The memories he had of his mother was tragically very little for she had passed away due to childbirth complications when he was only three years old.
At first when he was still a young child he would go to his father and ask him to tell him tales about his mother, but he stopped after Viserys pulled him aside one day and asked him to stop approaching his father about this, he was instructed to talk to his grandparents instead.
When Daemon asked his brother why, he simply said the following words.
Pain and grief.
It was the unspoken agreement for every person in the Red Keep to not utter her name within its walls.
Even though twelve years have passed since her death, his father’s pain and grief are still as fresh as the day the near mortal wound was inflicted upon him.
Each day Daemon walked into the ballroom to break his fast with his family and he saw his father sitting at the table, he was grateful.
Because even though the more intricate details of marked were kept from him, he knew one very important fact.
It is a common occurrence for when one of the marked breathed their last breath their mate would follow them into death’s embrace.
Very, very, very few soulmates survive their mates passing. It’s said that each day after their mate passes is a battle to remain in the living world, for their soul longs to join their mate.
“I am happy for you Daemon, truly. To be marked is an honor and as you’ll one day discover how the bond works, you’ll be even more thankful because the relationship with your mate is unlike any other.” Daemon focused on his father, his voice breaking through his morbid thoughts.
Baelon smiled at him, suspecting where his sons thoughts were at. He raised his cup and took a sip of the sweet wine.
“Where to begin though is the question. You know the basics, the mark begins as a white band on the right wrist, it appears on the male on his fifteenth name-day and the female receives her mark when she flowers.”
“There are several stages the mark goes through. When both marked touch each other for the first time, the mark will turn black and extend up the arm circling around until it reaches the heart where a flower bud forms.”
“When the marked kiss for the first time after saying their wedding vows, leaves form following the line winding up the arm and when the marriage is consummated a flower will bloom from the bud over the heart. There is no telling what flower will form but it tends bloom in the colors of the male’s house.”
“It takes time for the other aspects of the mark to come into effect. It first begins with shared dreams. This happens when both of the marks have revealed themselves, that very night when both rest for the night they’ll both meet in the dream. This is how you’ll find each other.”
“As your relationship with your mate grows the bond will become stronger, your bond is forged over time. You’ll be able to sense each other’s emotions and even be able to speak to each other silently through the bond and as it grows stronger you’ll be able to talk to each other over vast distances as if you are in front of one another.” Baelon took another drink, letting Daemon process this information.
“Though we have no definite way of knowing who your marked is until this occurs, we both know it is likely to be one of our bloodline, right now those candidates is either Laena or Visenya. So, it looks like you’re in for a bit of a wait my son.” Daemon scowled at his father as he chuckled.
“There is a major benefit to the mark. I suppose it is the God’s way of ensuring that you’ll be together with your mate for as long as possible, as long as disease and…other factors don’t come into place. You best get used to looking into the mirror and seeing that ugly mug because until you consummate your marriage, from this day forth you’ll stop physically aging.” Deamon smirked at his father hearing this.
“There are some disadvantages to the bond though.” Baelon waited until Daemon focused on him again.
“Any wounds that are inflicted on you, your mate will feel the pain, and what scar’s you have they will mirror on their body as well. Which is why I ask you now Daemon to further dedicate yourself to your training. Become the best sword master you can be and even then continue training, because that’ll be the best way you can protect your mate. By increasing your skills in battle, you are better equipped to protect her.”
Daemon watched as his father undid the buttons on his tunic and showed him the flower on his chest.
There displayed over his heart was a grey lily, the lines that traced up his right arm matched this color as well.
This was the first time he’d ever laid eyes on his father’s mark. He never displayed it, always wearing long sleeves and gloves.
Yet, one thing stood out to him. The color of the mark and the flower.
“Why is your mark like that?” Daemon asked his father.
Baelon covered the mark up and redid the buttons and looked into his sons eyes.
“Because my mate is dead. When this happens, the vivid black color will transition to a dull grey. The lily used to be a vivid crimson but when your mother….passed the color faded to this.”
“I pray you never experience this pain, Daemon. I pray that when the time comes for you and yours to depart this world it’ll be in your old age, and you’ll depart together with her at your side. I have no desire for you to experience what it is like for you to have everything and for it then to disappear, to live as half a man. I’ll be bluntly honest Daemon, I don’t know how I am still alive today. When you lose your other half…it is indescribable. Each day when I wake up, I reach through the bond for her only to encounter where it was severed and be reminded again of her absence.”
Daemon watched as his father got up from his chair, placed his hand on his shoulder, then left the room.
Leaving him to his thoughts of what his future would be.
Queen’s Ballroom, Maegor’s Holdfast, Red Keep, King’s Landing, 96 A.C.
Daemon’s Name-Day celebration was in full swing and the ballroom was packed full of over a hundred guests, each of the tables were covered in platters of food and the maids were walking with their pitchers of wine to fill the empty cups.
Aemma watched as King Jaehaerys stood from his chair in the seat of honor at the main table tapping his knife to his cup, as the sound echoed throughout the chamber, all of its occupants turned their eyes to their King and the music and chatter of various conversations cut off.
“Thank you for coming today to help us celebrate this joyous occasion. I am pleased to say that not only are we here today to celebrate my grandson’s fifteenth name-day but it also the day that he has received his mark. The gods have seen fit to award another yet another of the Targaryen bloodline with the honor of a Soulmate. So, my lords and ladies, please join me in raising a glass to Daemon, and pray that the day he meets his soulmate is not far off into the future!”
The cheers were raised and she looked upon her good-brother fondly as Baelon laid his hand on his son’s shoulder showing his excitement to him.
The music then began again leading to the dancing to begin again.
Daemon grinned at the attention coming from his father. Ever since his sister-wife and soulmate Alyssa passed away, the Spring Prince’s once happy and joyous mood that seemed to radiate from him every moment of every day, diminished from the moment Alyssa breathed her last breath.
Viserys had spoken only once of the events of those days to her, his fear and worry that his father would give up and decide to follow his mate in her journey into the Stranger’s arms as it was common occurrence with soulmates.
She was truly happy that Daemon had received a mark, that he would also have someone who’d truly love him just as his father and grandfather had. To be bonded to someone that would truly know the real him, someone to join him on what she knew was going to be a bold and brave dance that would be his life. She’d watched him train hard the past couple of years to become a gifted swordsman, when she asked him why he dedicated so much time in the sparring circle, he stated to her that it was for his mate.
Even when he was several years away from learning whether the Gods would bless him with a mark, that statement he told her was full of such confidence that showed he had no doubt that the event would occur even though how rare of an occurrence it was.
The Gods have been kind to the Targaryen family in bestowing marks to so many of its members.
She then looked down at her daughter, feeling the weight increase on her chest, as Visenya laid her head on her breast, yawning as she closed her eyes.
“It is time for bed for you my dear,” she chuckled as she kissed her head of silver curls. She then looked toward Cedra and indicated her to come forth and take the Princess.
“Please get her settled down. If she wakes and is one of her moods, send word to the Crown Prince’s solar as I’ll be there once the last of the guests have departed” Aemma ordered her as she transferred Visenya into her arms.
“Yes, your Highness.” The maid curtsied and then walked towards the main doors with a guard following in her steps as she took her daughter to her room.
Aemma then stood and made her way over to Daemon to once more give her congratulations to him.
Nursery, Maegor’s Holdfast, Red Keep, King’s Landing, 96 A.C.
Cedra was seated in the chair in front of the hearth using the light of the fire to complete embroidering a new blanket with the Targaryen crest for the Princess.
She’d been a member of the Red Keep’s servants every since the day she joined the as a wet nurse in the days of her youth. She’d helped feed and raise not just His Royal Highness Baelon, but several others of the King and Queen’s children.
Though she was no longer able to be a wet nurse as she entered her matron years and her once black hair became grey.
In thanks to her years of service she’d been made the nursery maid of Maegor’s Holdfast and received the honor to help raise the princes and princesses of the royal family. Not a day went by where she didn’t feel the honor and joy in having this post.
She began to hum the Song of the Seven as she continued in her work when a sound came from the crib cutting of her prayers to the Seven.
She turned her eyes to the crib as the sound continued and gained in volume. She stood and made her way to the crib and pulled back the canopy curtain and gasped.
The Princess’s egg was jostling in place as cracks began to form and lengthen across its surface. The Princess was sitting up watching her egg jostle around in the crib.
She went to the nursery door and opened it to come face to face with one of the guard’s.
“Please go to the Crown Prince’s solar with haste, let them know that the Princess’s egg is beginning to hatch.”
He nodded and jogged off to relay her message.
She nodded to the other guard who resumed his post at the door and closed the door and resumed her vigil over the crib.
She smiled as the Princess was sitting up and watching, keeping vigil, as her dragon was fighting it’s prison to join the one who’d be its rider.
The cracks grew further in number, showing that the hatchlings birth was imminent when she heard the chamber doors opened once again.
“Thank goodness you made it in time your Highness, the hatc-,” her voice cut off when she turned and saw the figure who’d entered the nursery.
A man stood there in the attire of a guard, yet he had a hood on that covered his face in shadow. Held within his right hand was a dagger. The light from the hearth highlighted the blade showing that there was blood coating the blade.
Her heart felt as if it’d frozen in her chest as her mind struggled to process the scene that was in front of her. Just past the stranger she could see the guard who once held vigil outside the nursery was now on the floor, a puddle of blood spreading on the grey stone floor.
She spread her arms and backed up against the crib protecting her charge from the stranger.
“I will not allow you to bring harm upon the Princess!” Cedra shouted as the stranger slowly began to approach her.
She heard him laugh at her words, but he still said no words as he came closer and closer.
She yelled her fury and rushed toward him and grabbed a hold of the dagger, trying to wrestle the blade from the assassin.
She ignored the sharp pain as the blade cut into her hands and drew blood, she tightened her grip onto the blade trying to pry it from his hands.
The assassin slammed his fist into her face causing her to let go of the blade and fall down to the floor.
He then began his walking towards the crib, stepping over her.
“No!” she shouted as she grabbed onto his right leg trying to halt the assassin, trying to buy more time for the other guard to arrive knowing that he should return imminently from delivering the message.
The assassin kicked her face, breaking her nose, but she still refused to let go.
He leaned down and grabbed her hair yanking her up to sit on the floor, before she could say another word or react, she felt a sharp line of heat go across her throat and her blood sprayed across the room and floor as her throat was slit from ear to ear.
Gasping, Cedra put her hands across her throat to try to stem the blood, but she knew that this was a futile act.
Already she felt her consciousness begin to fade and her sight begin to darken as more blood poured from her neck and soaked into the Myrish carpet.
She collapsed onto the floor, struggling to keep her eyes open as she watched the assassin step closer and closer to the crib.
He pulled the canopy curtain back and raised the dagger.
A screech radiated from the crib, and she saw a flash of fire encase the assassin’s head and moved to his torso setting him ablaze along with the canopy curtain.
Cedra’s last thought was how strange it was that the color of the flames was blue.
His screams filled the nursery as it spread upon his clothes and skin, Cedra’s sight grew darker still and she closed her eyes for the final time as she began her journey to the Stranger.
The flames grew further in strength as it spread from the canopy curtain to the Myrish carpet of the chamber. In no time at all it had spread through the entire chamber, though it was trapped in the room. As there was no wood or other material for it to cover, the flames continued to grow using its fuel to fight to live and grow stronger.
Nursery Hallway, Maegor’s Holdfast, Red Keep, King’s Landing, 96 A.C.
“Oh! Hurry up or we will miss it Viserys!” Aemma cried out as she hurried down the hallway toward the nursery.
“Calm down Aemma, we will be there shortly, there is no need to run.” Viserys laughed as he followed her along with his father and brother.
The moment they’d heard the joyous news from the guard they all immediately left the solar to witness this special occasion.
“Don’t you tell me to calm down, Visenya’s egg is finally hatching, which means I will no longer have to be subjected to her screams every time I pick her up from her crib!” Aemma countered back as she neared the last turn in the hallway.
Her three companions laughed at her statement as they matched her pace.
A pain filled scream echoed down the hallway causing all of them to freeze at the unexpected sound.
Aemma’s heart felt like a heavy weight as her stomach was filled with dread.
Viserys wrapped his arm around her shoulders pulling her towards him as Baelon and Daemon moved in front of them as they unsheathed their swords.
They all moved and turned the final corner and Aemma’s mind struggled to process the scene in front of her from the body lying on the floor, the blood spread out on the floor and the open nursery door, and the blue flames that was dancing in the nursery.
“VISENYA!” Aemma screamed as she struggled to break free from Viserys’ arms.
Viserys tightened his grip on his wife, not allowing her to break free, as he stared at the fire in shock of what was happening before his eyes.
Baelon and Daemon rushed forward and tried to enter the nursery, but the heat of flames batted them back.
“Daemon, step back!” Baelon shouted as he moved to enter the room.
“Father, no!” Daemon shouted back as he made to follow him.
“DO AS I SAY!” He didn’t look back towards his son, as he moved closer to the doorway, he raised his left hand to shield his face from the heat of the flames and turned his sight onto the crib, hoping, praying, that the flames hadn’t spread to the crib.
His prayers were in vain, for it was engulfed in flames.
He stumbled back at this sight, knowing that his first grandchild was no more, for no one could survive the flames.
Baelon wrapped his arm around Daemon’s shoulder as tears started to pour from his eyes.
Aemma, Viserys, Deamon, and Baelon could do nothing but watch as the flames continued to dance in Visenya’s nursery. What was once the young child’s room was now to become her grave.
Time passed at a snail’s pace for the Targaryen family.
Even when the guards and servants began to show and raise the alarm, the four Targaryen’s could do nothing but remain vigil.
The fire continued to burn for another hour until finally the flames began to die out as its fuel ran out and it began to dim.
Jaehaerys had joined his family as soon as he was notified.
Aemma was collapsed on her knees, her screams of grief cut through the air as Viserys hugged her to his chest.
Daemon was crouching on the floor his left hand covered his mouth as he watched in despair, his sword still grasped in his right hand.
Baelon had moved to his father to notify him on what had occurred, he struggled to say the words on what had transpired before he’d arrived, even as he continued to cry.
Jaehaerys grasped his son’s shoulder struggling to remain on his feet. Baelon held onto his father as they both turned to look toward the nursery.
“My King, the fire has died out.” Ser Ryam Redwyne, Jaehaerys’s Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, stated as he approached them from behind.
The other Kingsguard members, guards, and servants had kept their distance trying to give the Targaryen’s some decorum of privacy.
“I ask permission to enter the Nursery.” Ser Ryam Redwyne continued, trying to gain the King’s attention.
“No!” Daemon said as he stood up from his crouch, “I will go.”
Daemon walked towards the entryway of his niece’s nursery, at first he stumbled as his legs were uncooperative from the period of time he’d crouched on the floor.
With each step his legs regained in strength as he entered the room and was hit with the stench of burned flesh. A scent he was familiar with as he was a frequent visitor at the Dragonpit. He focused on the two adult bodies that were splayed on the floor.
The floors were now covered in black ash, the walls stained black, and the mural that covered the ceiling was no more.
Daemon closed his eyes and counted to three before he then turned his gaze to where the crib once stood.
The sight that was laid out before him caused him to drop his sword to the floor, the sharp sound echoed through the room and tears started to water his eyes.
Visenya was lying on the floor on her left side, curled around a dragon hatchling that was watching the new intruder with an acute focus trying to determine whether or not he was a threat.
It was a stunning creature, it’s scales and wings were a deep cobalt blue, while its claws, crest, and belly were the color of bright beaten copper.
Visenya’s pale white skin and silver hair was covered in black ash, she was naked as her clothes had burned in the fire.
Yet he focused on her chest as he saw her chest move up and down as she drew air into her lungs. She was asleep yet she kept one of her arms around her new companion.
“Shh, little hatchling. I mean her no harm.” Daemon said as he lowered his hands and crouched down toward the floor.
The hatchling tilted its head at his words, its bronze eyes looking into his own. It trilled at him in curiosity in hearing the sound of High Valyrian for the first time.
Seeing that it was responsive of his words, he continued to talk Valyrian in a soft tone as he came closer and closer to his niece.
“Let me take her please little one, she needs to be in her mother’s arms after such an event.”
Daemon continued to talk to the hatchling, knowing that it didn’t understand him, yet it’s instincts in hearing the Valyrian language spoke to its deepest nature and recognized it.
He completed his approach and held his left arm out to the hatchling, it sniffed his arm before moving to dislodge Visenya’s arm and crawled up his arm. He then reached out and picked up Visenya, cradling her within his arms.
Tears began to fall upon her skin as Daemon could no longer hold them back. His relief and joy in finding her unharmed from the blaze overwhelmed him.
Daemon gazed at her face, watching her respond to the sensation of the tears falling onto her skin by opening her violet eyes and looking into his eyes.
She smiled up at him and giggled, reaching her arms out towards him. He raised her toward his face and she placed her hands on his cheeks and giggled as she turned her gaze towards the hatchling that was now perched on his left shoulder.
Daemon would look forever look back upon this day as the beginning of their story.
The story would spread throughout the Kingdom of Westeros and beyond.
How an assassin had made his way into the depth’s of Maegor’s Keep to kill the Princess Visenya, how her dragon hatched to defend it’s rider, and how the Princess emerged from the room, unburnt from the flames that had encased the room and became known as the Unburnt Dragon, a true Valyrian of Targaryen descent, a dragon in human form.
The Realm’s Pride.
This was the true beginning of Visenya’s journey to become Queen Visenya Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Dragon Rider of the Blue Queen Syrax, and Soulmate of Daemon Targaryen.