The Dragon of Duskendale -- A Song of Ice and Fire Fanfic

Chapter 26

A killer stood watching the rain, a newborn in his arms.

His mother had gone into labor not long after Aelor's return to the Red Keep. It proved to be a long and difficult one, as many of Rhaella's had. She'd been bedridden since receiving the news of Rhaegar's death, and though maester Gorold had come from Duskendale to temporarily assume the duties of Pycelle—a move made by Ser Manfred, one Aelor applauded—his mother had been delicate of health for a long, long time.

She'd brought a screaming daughter into the world just as the storm engulfed King's Landing, rain and thunder singing harmony with her birthing screams. She had named the silver haired infant Daenerys. Daenerys Stormborn. Though very small despite being carried to term, she seemed otherwise perfectly healthy. Aelor held her now as he looked out the glass of a closed window in his rarely used chambers. Watching the raging rains and lightning above the city. He supposed he shouldn't have opened the storm shutters, but the sight of the gale was a welcome one, for it echoed the tempest inside his own chest.

Rhaella had died an hour ago. Gorold had done the best he could, but something had torn inside the Targaryen matriarch, and Rhaella's will had been broken by a life of misery and the death of her eldest child. His mother had perished, succumbing mere minutes after naming her last child. Dead, just like everyone else was.

The Dragon of Duskendale glanced down at the bundle, so small he could hold most of her in one hand, the rest resting where his arm lay against his ribs. He spoke quietly, the child stirring softly in her sleep at the sound and feel of his voice. "You won't die, little one. No matter the number I must kill, you will live a long life of happiness and plenty. You, Aegon, Rhaenys, Viserys...all of you. You have my word."

The loud boom of thunder echoed off the walls, sealing his vow. The prince looked back to the storm, grief and hate and anguish mixing in his very soul. The sane part of him knew the Lannisters were not to blame for Rhaella's death, but the voice had added it to the list of crimes that demanded their blood. It wasn't logical but Aelor didn't care. He'd lost so many, and he refused to lose more. Gods help me, I'll slaughter half the world to keep those who remain to me safe, starting with House Lannister.

"Can...can I hold her?"

Aelor reeled at the small voice, having been so caught up in his own loss and anger and vengeance that he hadn't sensed the little boy enter. Viserys stood behind him in the dark room, his face a mess of tears, soaking his green nightshirt.

"Vis?" Aelor, mindful of the newborn still sleeping in his arm, knelt in front of the boy. "I thought Gorold was giving you..." A sleep tonic. "I thought you were in bed?"

Viserys had taken the news of their mother's death horrifically, which was to be expected in the best of circumstances. It had been a certainty in these poor ones, so soon after Rhaegar's death. Viserys had been Rhaella's shadow since his birth. Wary of Aerys, their mother had rarely let the boy out of her sight, not even around his older brothers. Not that I tried that hard, Aelor admitted to himself, shame pressing down on him like a great weight.

His brother sniffled, on the verge of tears again though he held them at bay. "I pretended to drink it. It would have made me sleep, and I don't want to sleep right now. I pretended so the maester would leave."

Aelor blinked away the surprise of Viserys' deception, though it had fooled Gorold and himself completely. They'd prepared the younger brother a room in Aelor's own chambers—Vis' were a part of Rhaella's, and the Seven knew he couldn't be there right now—and sent him to them not long after the queen's passing.

"Here, come sit with me."

Aelor rose carefully, then guided his brother to a cushioned chair in the corner of his chambers. Viserys followed easily, a few tears slipping down his cheeks though it was a far cry from the shuddering, screaming sobs he'd had earlier. Ever mindful of Daenerys in his left arm, Aelor settled back into the chair, then pulled Viserys up into his lap. "You must be careful, alright? She's much smaller than you and can't be moved too fast, and you have to be cautious with her head."