She was born of two Targaryens , her father a king, her mother a princess who had been a queen in all but name, locked away by a holy man who feared what she carried in her blood. She inherited their silver hair, their violet eyes, their particular talent for surviving things that should have broken them. He was born fourth. Overlooked. Too much of everything the court didn't want and not enough of anything it did. They legitimised her with a dying king's breath and a name that tasted like iron. She took it. She wore it. She learned to carry it quietly, the way you carried things too heavy to put down. The Red Keep held them both, corridors and banquets and tournaments and gardens at night. A thing that had no name because neither of them would give it one. The world was already fracturing. She felt it sometimes, in the way her brother laughed too easily at things that weren't funny. He felt it in the way the court watched Daemon and smiled too carefully. Neither of them said it out loud. Some silences are louder than anything. Some losses happen before the dying. Some things end before the war. This is one of them. All characters and the world of A Song of Ice and Fire belong to George R.R. Martin. No copyright infringement is intended. Daelys Blackfyre is an original character created for this story. This is a work of fan fiction written purely for love of the source material.
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