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"They are so small..." mused Viserys, a little princeling of four, as he was presented with his baby siblings.
The new addition to the family came in both genders; princess Alyssa gave birth to a healthy boy and girl.
"Of course, they are only a day old..." whispered Alyssa to her eldest son. She was still exhausted due to her labours, but incredibly proud of herself for bringing forth not one, but two healthy babes.
She was not alone in that matter. Prince Baelon, her brother and husband, was equally or even more proud of his wife - if that was possible. "Viserys, meet Daemon and Daenerys."
Of course, the names were well thought through. They had decided to name their daughter after their late sister, who had passed years before either of them could talk - still it was a nice thought that made Good Queen Alysanne cry tears of joy. Daemon was a male version of the name, they decided - of course, oblivious to the fact that Alyssa was carrying twins. Now they had both Daenerys and Daemon.
"Hello, Daenerys and Daemon. I am Viserys, your older brother," grinned the boy.
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In the next weeks it became perfectly visible how different the twin were from Viserys. He was always known as a happy boy, who would grin for the smallest of things - the twins did not.
From the day they arrived in the world, they screamed and fussed. Most nights went unslept through, not just by Alyssa and the wet nurses but by the rest of the Red Keep as well. Baelon would often mutter that they were demons sent to this world to punish them for their wrongs - he was not far from the truth, it seemed.
Though both of the babes were drastically differed from Viserys, they were not in the slightest similar. Daemon was a nervous and aggressive baby boy; he would wail at all times and hit around if he felt the attention of others slipping from him. He was constantly hungry and never content with his wet nurses. Daenerys cried as much as him but was also curious; her big violet eyes were always seeking an explanation of everything. But much like Daemon, she would rarely smile until...
Baelon was in the nursery; he was stressed beyond reason. The babes were crying again. "Sh sh, little ones. Go to sleep now..." His attempts were pointless and of no avail. In desperation to make them stop, he reached for Daemon. "Auu!" he yelled; the little boy had bit him. Though he had about three teeth at the time, his grip was strong. Baelon finally pulled back and inspected his finger in pain, shaking it while whining.
"Heheheheh..." A quiet sound came from the crib. Baelon looked down, surprised.
"Did you just...?"
Little Daenerys was laughing. It was at his pain, but still... she had stopped crying.
"You like that, huh? Your old kepa getting hurt?" mused Baelon. (father)
Daenerys stopped laughing and grimaced again, ready to cry.
"No, no, no, no..." rushed Baelon. Without thinking, he slapped himself across the cheek and hissed in pain.
Daenerys exploded into giggles again. From that day forward, it was settled. They were two demons sent to destroy them all.
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In the years that followed, the twins turned from demonic to annoying and mischievous. They would start with small pranks, such as lying about falling asleep and secretly talking under the covers. But their mischief only increased; soon enough, they were stealing pastries, catching mice, and letting them run into the throne room. They even sent fake letters to members of the council with the words: 'YOU STINK'.
To sum up, they were a handful. But aside from their imperfections, they also had good traits also. They both mastered High Valryian by the age of four, knew the history of the Targaryen linage like the back of their hands, and were both incredibly skilled with their tongues. In addition, Daenerys was well skilled in needlework and could act like a proper lady - if she decided to. She was also blessed, for her egg had hatched by the time she turned two. Her silver headed hatching was attached to her hip, and she called her Viky.
Daemon was not as blessed; he was bound to find a much harder way to get himself a dragon. He had to claim one. But there was no doubt that when the time was right, he could do it. The boy was beyond talented on the training grounds, where he had trained since he could walk. At the age of six, he could easily beat his older brother Viserys, ten at the time, who much rather spent a day building his replica of old Valryia than train with his little brother.
"Did you see how I threw Viserys on his arse today?" he would ask Daenerys after a bath and change of attire.
"No, you know father doesn't let me watch..." she sighed.
"Shame, really. You should have seen his face. For the first time, the 'grinning boy' stopped grinning!" he laughed.
Daenerys only cracked a smile.
"Where were you today, anyway?" asked Daemon as they walked down the hall. The twins were heading to dinner.
"The Sept," she said simply and shrugged.
"The Sept? What in the right mind were you doing in the Sept?" grimaced Daemon, visibly disgusted by what his sister just said.
"Praying," she she smiled.
"Praying?! What? To the seven?" he grimaced further - if that was even possible at this point.
"Yes. My septa said, mother can hear me that way-"
"Well, your septa is a lying cunt then!" said Daemon firmly as he stopped walking.
Daenerys stopped as well. "Don't say that."
"Why not? It's the truth."
"No, it's not. She said mother can hear me if I pray to her, because she is in heaven and-"
"Mother is dead, Daenerys." He held no sympathy in his voice as he said it. "She is gone. For ever. Grow up."
Daenerys fell quiet. It was true.
In 83 AC, Alyssa was announced to be pregnant again. She gave birth the next year to another son, Aegon. The labor was long and difficult, and Alyssa never fully recovered from childbirth. She died within a year, at the age of twenty-four. The sickly boy followed soon after.
Seeing her sister's face, Daemon sighed in regret. "Daenerys..." he reached a hand towards her, but she stepped away.
"Leave me alone," she sobbed, and she ran away crying.
YOU ARE READING
TWIN FLAMES || Daemon Targaryen
Fanfiction『 : ̗̀➛Two parts of a whole, destined to find their second half, and when the sun finally sets on them, the last ember of hope glows in their eyes. ☄. *. ⋆ 』