𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐄 ~ aemond targaryen (discontinued)

4 ~ Blood Runs Thick ~ 4

There were five plain differences between me and the Targaryens. Five differences that had always brought even my father and I's relation into question.

One. My vibrant red hair, a bush of dense, crimson ringlets that the maids dreaded to touch. I was a drop of fresh blood on snow beside my so-called siblings. Yet the most dragon like feature belonging to me was my untameable locks.

The second difference was my eyes which were not violet or blue, but as green as the sea glass found on the shores of the narrow sea.

Third. My skin was not a translucent ivory. It was flesh I shared with the terf's who worked endlessly in the sun, in the stables, labouring. I was sheathed in a coat of honey toned skin, only painted without so many blemishes and scars as a commoner. An oddity, considering the pale complexion typically paired with someone of my hair colour. The sun was my friend, bathing me in a tan instead of scolding me with burns. My freckles were few and birthed only in the summer.

Four. My siblings were growing to be long and lithe like most other Targaryens, whilst I was short and held the whisper of curves and a chest that was beginning to fill since my first blood. It was presumed that soon enough my hips would be fit for birthing, a horror for a dragon rider and a girl who did not wish to bear a child.

And finally, unlike my albino siblings, I looked absolutely dreadful in red. It clashed terribly with my hair.

Standing amongst what I was once told were my siblings, my family, I noticed those differences now more than ever. I had never felt so other in all my life. Like an alien amongst the people I had known all my days.

I looked to the two boys I once knew as my nephews. They both stood between their mother and proclaimed father.

Even as the funeral ceremony continued, I noticed the stares of the Velaryons landing on the boys.

I felt sort of protective over them, especially now with what I had so recently discovered about myself.

Father- the King- had tried to speak to me for days now, trying to explain himself. But there was nothing to explain. I had been lied to all my life and sure I was thankful for the luxuries offered under the roof of the Red Keep, but the abuse I received beside them made me wonder what life I may have lived if I remained a peasant.

I wouldn't have my Helios. The most horrible, nightmare of truth.

I would be poor and hungry most days. I would have to live in the city, infested with rats and disease and assuming both of my true parents were dead, I would likely have lived on the streets or in an orphanage, growing up to eventually, inevitably, sell my body for coin.

The King had shown mercy by removing me from that fate. But what had made me so different from any other orphaned child?

How had I come to take a dragon or inherit the title of the Kings bastard?

My family history classes became distorted and puzzling. I had been taught that only the Targaryens could tame a dragon and yet, here I stood with my doting Helios back home.

Was it my history or the Targaryen history that sang false?

Something sharp jutted into my ribcage and I swallowed down a yelp.

Twisting to my right, I almost yelped a second time as I discovered Helaena's eyes on me, scowling gently, an expression I had never seen her wear.

"Your mind is too loud." She whispered harshly.

"Sorry." I blushed, hoping the girl didn't also hold a talent for reading thoughts. That would be mortifying.

Helaena huffed, "You're getting yourself lost. It's not a maze." She rolled her violet eyes as if I had asked her the most obvious question and actually expected an answer. As if I were the ridiculous one. "You're like a dog chasing its own tail. Give up."