The Marriage Pact

A Debt to be Paid

On a roll, Viserys banned his children from wearing the color green.

"You will not feed this rivalry," he warned his wife when she protested. "Our children will wear the colors of their House: red and black. You may dress as you see fit."

Aemond for one was happy to switch to wearing black -it suited his dark mood. It had taken weeks after losing his eye for the agony in his head to subside, months to readjust his depth perception, and years for his rage to at all diminish. It simmered now, just beneath the surface of the calm façade he presented to the world.

Exasperated by her husband's stubbornness, the Queen increasingly turned to her faith for comfort. She was always to be seen wearing her seven-star necklace and visited the Sept every morning for prayers. Her dutiful son Aemond often accompanied her, though nothing short of force would drag Aegon there.

Still, the seven years in King's Landing passed peacefully enough. Viserys, who's health had been rapidly deteriorating, seemed to have discovered a new will to live. Though his body continued to decompose, the decline was somewhat slower. This came as a great surprise to Otto Hightower, who had expected by now to be warming the throne on behalf of his ailing King.

***

Meanwhile in Dragonstone, Rhaenyra and Daemon had been wed and were raising their children together in relative harmony. Jace, Rhaena and Joffrey continued on much as they had done, untroubled by the future that lay in store for them.

But Luke was daunted by an inheritance he did not feel he deserved, Baela could not think of the wastrel of a boy to whom she was betrothed without shuddering, and Visenya had grown up with a sense of doom hanging over her.

She had no doubt in her mind that Aemond would never forgive or forget the events at Driftmark. After all, she had stood silently by as her brother Luke took a knife to his eye. She could only imagine what vengeance her uncle would inflict upon her once she became his legal property.

Thus, it was with a heavy heart that she prepared to mount Rhaegal, the small dragon that had been born to her. The family had received their summons from the King. The seven years were up. The debt had come due.

She still couldn't believe this was truly happening to her; that she was to be handed over to her uncle for him to do with as he pleased. She took a deep, shaky breath, willing herself to be strong.

"Visenya," her mother called. She hurriedly wiped the tears from her eyes before turning around. Rhaenyra smiled at her daughter with a tender concern that only made her want to cry harder. "I have something for you." Rhaenyra held out a necklace. Visenya recognized it immediately.

"But this is your special necklace, the one you said Daemon gave to you when you were young."

"It is," Rhaenyra agreed, "and now it belongs to you. It helped me feel braver whenever I was most afraid. My hope is it will do the same for you."

Visenya turned so her mother could clasp it behind her neck. Her fingers traced the ruby at its center. Illogically, it did make her feel better. It would serve as a reminder of her mother's love and Daemon's protection.

"Thank you, mother."

***

A shadow passed over the training yard. Aemond looked up at the sky and instantly recognized the forms of Syrax and Caraxes. Five smaller dragons flew alongside them. Aemond pursed his lips. His niece was undoubtedly amongst them. Visenya.

His lasting memory of the princess was of her terrified face as she stared at him across the Hall of Nine. He smiled with bitter amusement. For years he'd plotted his revenge. His schemes had at first been rather extreme, fueled by the searing pain in his head. Gradually over the years they'd become less sadistic... more realistic.