The Unburnt

Chapter 18 - First day of Winter

First of all THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE you have shown to my story, I am WOWED. 4000 reads, I am on the floor. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, it means so much to me🖤

Keep commenting because I love to read your comments🎀 also thank you Malenoratgn for all your appreciation

Also I corrected the name of the firstborn of Visenya and Daemon, his name is Daryon (which means King in High Valyrian) and not Dayron as I have been wiritng it. Ops! (mistaking the name of my own bloody character, jesus!) All their babes names have a meaning so this is why I was STRESSED when I saw this mistake.

Warning: character death (it's not Visenya or Daemon, but be aware). I decided to make justice to a part of Valyrian life and death, as in HOTD, it was overseen quite a lot, the possibility of children being birthed with dragon appearance (with scales, twisted limbs, a tail, claws or something like this). I remember the scene where Daenerys lost her son, who was born what most considered an answer, I just feel like this was the blood magic that made the Valyrians who they were, they did have dragon blood in their blood, it's truly hilarious how most forget that, and with the power of magic that binded their blood, they could share this bond with dragons.

High Valyrian in bold.

Daemon Targaryen

118 AC

Winter had come early this year, the icy winds sweeping across the narrow sea and biting through the very stones of the Red Keep.

Outside, the world was veiled in frost, but inside these walls, there was a different kind of cold, one far more suffocating. A silence, thick and heavy, clung to the air like death itself. My little flower, my sweet darling niece, has gone into labor on the first day of Winter.

I have been at her side, watching with clenched fists as the maesters and midwives moved about. The pain has torn through her in waves, her screams echoing off the walls, and I could do nothing but bear witness and hold her hand, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear, encouraging her, helpless as my wife fought to bring our second child into the world.

But when the babe came forth, there was no sound—no cries of life, only the stillness of death. Our boy was born still, his skin pale and scaled like the hide of a dragon, his limbs twisted and misshapen. A 'dragon-child,' they called him. A creature of Valyrian blood, born of a line too pure for this world. The midwives have whispered prayers, their hands trembling as they wrapped the stillborn in cloth, but I had seen it in their eyes—the fear, the disgust.

I saw red, but refrained from killing anybody, as I watched my wife cry her pains, to us this was no creature, it was our child, who had no chance in this world the moment it crawled out of his mother's womb.

Visenya, my sweet, fierce Visenya, had fallen into a silent agony. Her tears were few, but the grief that radiated from her was palpable. She had given birth to death, and the weight of it crushed her.

Her mother, Aemma and Viserys, have entered the chambers, wishing to know more but they immediately halted when I gave a short shake of head. My goodsister's eyes welled up with tears, rushing to her side to console her, both of them sharing one pain, the pain that her mother has felt many times before.

Emotion made my throat dry, words stuck as I swallowed until Viserys broke the silence.

"It was too soon, she should have not been with child so soon." Out of all the moments he could have chosen to voice his opinions.

My back tensed as I glared at my brother, thankful that Dark Sister was not at my hip or I would have put it through his head.

Aemma looks back troubled at Viserys, her eyes pleading as she sushed him. But none of it matter once I looked at my sweet niece, who could command me only with her gaze, she slowly shook her head as she tried to push away from her mother. I snarled.