Act One, Scene Two

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"𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝙵𝚘𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚍, 𝙱𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛"
𝟷𝟷𝟹 𝙰𝙲 - 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝙺𝚎𝚎𝚙
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     IT HAD BEEN MANY MOONS since Vaella's mother's passing and her arrival at the Red Keep. With her first name-day quickly approaching, the castle was bustling with activity, everyone in the court eager to finally see the Targaryen girl.

Within the week of taking the babe into his care, Viserys thought it only right to legitimize her. "Strong Targaryen blood deserves the strong Targaryen name," He had said. And hence, the girl was a Waters no more.

It confused the younger brother when he entered the Red Keep; seeing all of the servants moving around like their lives were on the line, the quiet chatter of the young girl circling through the ladies of the court. Daemon didn't dwell on it much longer, however, knowing that a lot could have changed in the nearly two years he had been away.

The man's steps carried him all the way to the throne room, where the chair forged from steel glistening from the light coming in through the stain glass windows. The room was empty aside from him. Or it was for a moment.

"I did not think you would return this time," His voice carried out from the side door to the room, causing Daemon to turn and look at his approaching older brother.

The man didn't seem as though he had changed much in the years passed, though his what hair seemed to have gotten longer and he sported a few new creases on his slim face. His figure stood tall as he made his way towards the throne, his eyes not yet meeting his brother's. Not until he sat down on the Iron Throne and looked down at him.

"Neither did I. And yet, here I am." The man of thirty and one name-days answered, honest to his word. He had glanced around the room for a moment before looking at the king. "Am I just in time for the celebrations, brother? Did you have another daughter?"

Viserys sighed softly, standing up from his seat and walking down the few steps that separated the siblings. "No, I do not."

"Then what could it possibly be to have the castle in such an uproar?"

The younger man once again scanned his surroundings, this time noticing a wet nurse walking into the room. She was carrying a young girl, whose chubby, little hands were grabbing at the nurse's clothing with a wide grin. Her white locks clear as day showed what her true heritage was.

Even without his brother saying a word, Daemon knew what he was insinuating, causing his purple eyes to turn to the king. "It seems you've been fooled, brother." He said, his voice void of any emotion. "That child looks nothing like you. Far too beautiful a babe to have come from you."

Ignoring the jest, the older of the two spoke up. "This is Vaella." He faced away from the girl, locking eyes with the man beside him. "Your daughter."

     Daemon had been expecting those words to come out of the king's mouth, but he wasn't expecting the pressure that was added onto his chest, making his breaths become deeper. His violet eyes turned and met those of the little girl, their matching orbs staring into the other's.

"I don't have any children," The man said plainly, his hands folding in front of him as he took a step away from his brother and the child. "I don't know what kind of trick this is, but they seem to have gotten you good considering the child is still here."

Viserys knew better than to expect anything more than this from his younger brother, but it still shocked him. This was his blood, his first born child, and he turns a blind eye to her.

He remembered the day so clearly that Rhaenyra was born. Despite her not being born a male, that never stopped him from loving her as soon as he locked his purple eyes into her small body. It seemed his brother would show no such love to his own little girl.

"This is your child, Daemon." The king said, amazed at what he saw coming from his brother. "Your flesh and your blood."

A soft snort came from the man as he started to walk away from the pair. "That is no child of mine," He called over his shoulder, not even bothering to say a proper farewell to him before he left, his footsteps trailing down the hallways until they were out of earshot.

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𝙺𝙰𝙻𝙾𝙽 ° aemond targaryenWhere stories live. Discover now