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Summary
At one point in time, Daemon had felt something other than hatred for his younger sister. As a babe she did not look so cruel — she looked innocent, and her wails were pathetic. He felt sympathy for her weak form, and an odd desire to protect it.
When he spoke of this to their mother, she kissed the top of his head and said, “My son, that’s love.”
He huffed, love was for girls, and lovers, and she was neither.
(One day, he’d see Rhaenyra as both.)
OR: Rhaenyra is a firebending prodigy, and Daemon is her jealous older brother. She wants to be Queen. He wants to be King. What will happen?