𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬/ daemon targaryen

𝟑𝟏. 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭

[123 AC]
third-peron narrator

♛♛♛

Her throat, dry and sour. And her eyes stuck to the ground, as she cut herself off from the outside world, from reality. Her hands were sweating, involuntarily the stress was running through her veins. She couldn't help but swallowed hard, squeezing her fingers on her daughters's shoulders.

And those innocent eyes of Laena and Alyssa, shining bright like a little suns. So beautiful, still full of unburdened happiness. "Visenya of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and Driftmark" she blinked twice, feeling her stomach gripping nervously. A room, overcrowded by the Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms, all gathered to enjoy the feud over the Iron Throne. "current heir to the Iron Throne." one of the knights, announced, the arrival of the Princess to the chamber.

All eyes blindly following her steps, her sight, and the long Targaryen red dress, which perfectly matched the other members of her family's clothes. Not all four of Daemon's and Visenya's kids attend this appointment, as Princess did not wish for her youngest to take part in that absurd. Specially when the Realm's Threat knows, pretty well what her husband is capable of.

"Princess you may now speak for yourself." she heard someone's voice in her mind, as she regained consciousness, after a while.

A silence deeply piercing her being, inside out. But her gaze only, saw her childhood friend, at that time. An empty stare, Alicent sent towards Princess. They both did not forget. Never. Those differences, which drove a wedge between them, left wounds, scratches, marks in their memories. One of those wounds, still black and bruised, and the other almost perfectly fine. But actually both off they still fighting the pain in their own way.

The time for Vis to stand in the center of the chamber, in front of the Throne came. In silence, as Daemon watched her from a few meters away, his eyes searching for any kind of violence, adresssed to her being.

His hand, resting lightly on Drak Sister, as he pulled Alyssa's back to himself. Then she spoke. "As long as Targaryens rule, over the Seven Kingdom" her deep voice, echoing around the walls of the Red Keep.

When she peered up, at the man sitting on the throne made of swords of the enemies, who the Conqueror defeated. In his mind, he still saw his dear wife, Aemma. In Visenya's and smile, and her severe look on face. With the stubbornness, impossible to fight. But most of all, he cannot stop hearing Aemma's voice, while she spoke. It was exhausting, after all these years, still loving a person, just because they are a part of the past. A past we miss so intensively. Night and day.

"there has never been a woman, named a ruler" Princess of Dragonstone continued, as her sight run towards her lady mother. "A Queen of the Realm." Rhaenys smiled slightly at her daughter. Proud to see a woman grown, beneath her own wings. Who's ready to avenge what way Great Council treated Rhaenys years ago, to avenge her family.