By The Hand of the Gods [ OTTO HIGHTOWER ]

ｉｖ． ｐｅａｃｅｆｕｌ ｇｏｄｓ

"Leave before I shove that book down every orifice of your body." Daella was not in the mood for the games that Otto was playing.

The girl, not much older than her niece, was shaking where she stood. It disgusts Daella that Otto would resort to such schemes. Alicent Hightower was made to follow Otto's whims and with him unable to decide the heir of his choosing, giving a different option was the Lord Hand's solution in the matter.

"A-Apologies, Your Grace." Alicent bowed slightly before running back where she came from, tail tuck between her legs.

Daella sighed as she made her way to her brother's chamber. It was good that she caught the poor girl when she did, as she was allowed inside by the guards on watch, the sight of her brother sitting by the models eased her even for a slight moment. He was in better spirits compared to the last time she had seen him, having to pull him onto his feet the first night upon the death of his wife and child. He was getting better, slowly but surely it seems.

"I see you're back to your figures, Brother." Daella tried her best to keep her spirits up, even for the sake of her brother.

"What do you want, Daella?" Viserys turned to look at her now, knowing all too well why she was here, of what she had planned to do.

"I am here to make sure you have company tonight, Your Grace." Daella announced plopping herself onto the vacant chair just besides her brother. "I could not sleep and in the same manner that my children will not allow me to sleep unless I am assured that their Uncle is alright–again." Daella smiled appreciating the smile that rested on Viserys' own lips at the mention of her twins.

Of all the things she had endured, she owed the same amount of depth to Viserys as he did Daemon. He had never tried to exile her or allow shame to be spoken about her in his presence. He had even allowed her amnesty for the few men that dared call her a whore and her children bastards. Even in the secrets that she kept for her own sake as well as her childrens, Viserys accepted her children without an ounce of hesitation and doubt.

"Last I've heard they're fawning over their dragons in the Dragonpit." Viserys pointed out. "They've ridden longer than I have in my entire life. So I am uncertain where in their time they even think of me."

"They do," Daella reassures, holding onto his hand, her eyes falling onto the small pouch that held Aemma's ring. "We all do, we are worried more about Viserys, my brother and my children's Uncle than we do the King."

The smile on Viserys fell at her words. The walls he tried to make for himself were crumbling and Daella knew the risk and consequence that came with the life paved for him–but it didn't mean it didn't hurt as it did in this moment.

"I'm very sorry, Viserys." Daella spoke as the first line of tears fell from her brother's eyes.

"Will it ever get easy?" Viserys asked and she was all the more certain of its meaning. For she had mourned the same loss as she gave birth to her children. Of what Daemon would be for her and her children if she named him father of her children. Nothing hurt more than mourning someone that was always close to her.