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Chapter Text

Varaena Velaryon was born during one of the worst storms of the century. The moment she came into the world, lightning struck not only the Red Keep, but the castle on Dragonstone as well. Some said it was mere coincidence, while others regarded it as an omen. Of what, they couldn’t say.

Her mother, the Princess Rhaenyra, laboured for almost 23 hours, before her first child was born. A beautiful girl, with platinum white hair, and violet eyes. Her mother and father, Ser Laenor, were overjoyed at her arrival, proudly presenting her to the king a few days later. The King proclaimed her the most beautiful child in all the seven kingdoms, doting on her throughout her entire childhood.

But despite this, every lord and lady, maid and knight, whispered about the origins of her birth. While there was no question that she was Rhaenyra’s daughter through and through, many doubted who her father was. Though she had white hair, as did Ser Laenor, she lacked the dark skin common amongst the Velaryons. Many whispered that it was Daemon Targaryen who had sired her, shortly before he left to marry Laena Velaryon. He had arrived for Rhaenyra and Laenor’s wedding, to the shock of everyone, including the King. That night, while Laenor and Rhaenyra were supposed to be completing the bedding ceremony, she had left Laenor alone in her chambers to grieve, taking the secret passage out of the castle. Prince Daemon was nowhere to be seen for the rest of the night, and he left suddenly the next morning, before the sun had risen.

A year and a half later saw the arrival of her first brother, Jacaerys, who was born with wisps of dark curls upon his head. And so the whispers began again, fueled even more by the births of her brothers Lucerys and Joffrey in years to come.

Rhaenyra cared not for their slander, refusing to give it any attention. She did her best to protect her children from the insults, but Varaena was neither deaf nor blind. She had understood from a young age the lack of resemblance between her and her proclaimed father. But the King himself refused to acknowledge the rumors. Either because he didn’t believe them to be true, or because he loved his daughter too much.

Varaena spent the first 11 years of her life in the Red Keep, surrounded by her uncles, Aegon and Aemond, their sister Helaena, and her brothers. Though the Queen detested her and her brother’s origins, and encouraged the divide that was growing between her own children and Rhaenyra’s, there were times where she found herself smiling at the young Princess, or even offering her a kind word or hand in encouragement She would never admit it to anyone, but in truth, she could see glimpses of Rhaenyra in her daughter. Of the person she used to be. Her best friend. And when she observed her sons with Varaena, she saw her and Rhaenyra as children. A time long past, but still remembered with fondness.

She and Aemond had spent the most time together. Their relationship was a rocky one at best, but given the tensions they both experienced with their families, and the lack of privacy and peace, they would often meet in the library, or under the weirwood tree, and sit in silence, or, on rare occasions, would discuss their lack of dragons. Neither of them had claimed dragons as of yet, and while Varaena tried not to dwell on it too much, Aemond suffered greatly from it.

“I’m never going to get a dragon,” Aemond groaned as he plopped down beside Varaena.

They had finished their lessons in the dragonpit an hour ago, and she had been hiding from her brothers, the skirt of her dress splayed out on the grass under the weirwood tree.

“Of course you will,” she argued. “Your brother, and mine, are jerks. Don’t listen to them.”

During their lesson, Aegon and her brothers had taken Aemond aside, saying that a dragon had been found for him. For a moment, he had been excited, while Varaena had been suspicious. She never knew her brothers to be this generous when it came to their uncles.

“Come, brother, meet your dragon,” Aegon stepped aside, flourishing his hand as Lucerys stepped forth.

Trailing behind him, was a rather large pig, with fake wings stuck to its back.

Aemond’s smile faded instantly, being replaced with a look of anger and disappointment.

“Mount your steed, now, brother. But be careful, I hear she’s a rough ride!” Aegon snickered as he clapped his brother on the back.

Jacaerys, too, was laughing, as was Lucerys. Aemond shoved his brother, hard, and stormed off.

“Aemond!” Varaena called out after him, but he kept walking.

She whipped around on her brothers, walking right up to them and slapping them both on the cheek.

“OW!” They cried in unison, rubbing their reddened skin.

“What the hell was that for?” Jacaerys groaned.

“The two of you are absolute idiots! Shame on you!”

“We didn’t mean anything by it, we were just having some fun!” Lucerys defended.

“Besides, it was Aegon’s idea,” Jace chimed in.

“Traitors,” the boy in question muttered angrily.

“I have no dragon, are you going to mock me as well?” She demanded.

“Of course not, but that’s different…”

“How so? It matters not whether I’m your sister, or a complete stranger. It’s cruel!”
She turned on her heel and walked straight out of the dragonpit, determined not to set eyes on them for the rest of the day. So here she found herself, an hour later, hiding from the two idiots she called brothers, finding solace with the only other boy in King’s Landing who she could stand to be around.

“How do you know?” Aemond continued. “We have tested every dragon within 50 square miles, and none of them have shown an interest in bonding with me. Or you, for that matter. And the only other dragons to speak of have not been seen for years, and their whereabouts are currently unknown. So, tell me again, how is it that I will get a dragon?”

“Don’t snap at me, I’m only trying to help. If you’d rather go inside and face your brother, that’s fine by me.” She went back to reading the book she had been so engrossed in before he arrived.

“What are you reading, anyway?” He looked over her shoulder at the text.

“It’s the history behind every dragon ever known, dead or alive. I figured I should at least know their stories if I’m to ever bond with one.”

Aemond rolled his eyes. “As if that’s going to help you.”

Varaena glared at him. “Do you always have to be so rude? It’s as if you’re trying to ensure no one likes you. You know, I’m probably your only friend in the entire city, and even that’s debatable at times.”

“I don’t need any friends.”

“Well then, I’ll leave you alone. Have fun with yourself.” She stood up, brushing the bits of grass from her dress, and making to walk away. Aemond reached out and grabbed her hand, keeping her from leaving and pulling himself up in the process.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“What was that? I’m sorry I couldn’t hear you,” she raised a hand to her ear.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke louder, more forcefully.

“That must have been quite painful for you. Bravo.”

Aemond glared at her. “I’ve apologized, now you can go.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “I don’t want to be around you, anyway. I’d rather be with my baby brother. At least when he ignores me, it’s because he has an actual excuse beyond rudeness.”

She retreated into the walls of the Keep, off towards the nursery to see her new brother, born just that morning, leaving Aemond alone with his thoughts.

Had someone else been in the garden with them, they would have seen the way his eyes trailed after her, how a barely perceptible smile came to his face at every snarky comment she made. They would have seen how he watched her even when she wasn’t looking, especially when she wasn’t looking, and the slight brush that crept onto his cheeks when she almost caught his stare.

They might also have noticed how she inched closer to him the moment he sat down beside her, or how her voice shook ever so slightly when she spoke to him. Perhaps they might have noticed her own blush when they locked eyes, or her almost imperceptible gasp when he took her hand. But the maids did indeed see her smile as she walked down the halls of the Keep, unable to stop herself.

But the happiness was short-lived. Varaena and her family left for Dragonstone only days later, and she and Aemond had a very heated argument right before. Years later, she couldn’t even remember how it started, but she could still remember some of what was said. Including when he told her she wasn’t even worthy of the name Velaryon, much less Targaryen, being the bastard that she was. That it wasn’t surprising no dragon had wanted to bond with her, because it could probably sense her sullied blood, and found her just as repulsive as he did. That he pitied whatever man was destined to marry her, and if he should ever find himself doomed to such a fate, he would sooner pitch himself off the highest tower of the Keep.

She had punched him, hard, breaking his nose, before she ran off to find her mother, tears welling up in her eyes. Whatever girlish crush she’d had on him withered in that moment, and she resolved to never again let the opinions or words of others affect her so, nor to let her emotions show so easily.

Varaena and Aemond did not see each other again for 6 years, save for one horror filled night, that set in motion events that would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

Chapter Text

The towers of the Red Keep loomed above them as the carriage pulled into the courtyard. The stench of the city still clung to her nostrils, reeking of shit and death. Varaena sighed as she looked out of the window, gazing up at the ominous building, one which she had swore never to return to.

“I still don’t see why I had to come, Mother,” she grumbled as sat back in her seat. It’s not as if my presence were necessary. I’m not the one trying to defend my birthright.”

Rhaenyra rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. “I know, sweet girl, but it’s important to present a unified family. Appearances matter, especially at court. And besides, I’m sure your grandsire would relish the chance to see you.”

Varaena nodded her head. She understood keeping up appearances, but it was still a pain in her ass. She did, however, look forward to the opportunity to see the King. It had been years since she’d seen him, not since the night they left for Dragonstone. 

It was a horrible night, one she tried again and again to put from her mind. But it haunted her every thought.

“It won’t be for too long. We’ll be home before you know it,” Rhaenyra smiled at her.

The carriage door opened, and the steps were lowered. Rhaenyra would exit first, being the heir to the Iron Throne, followed by her Prince Consort Daemon, then each of her children.

When Varaena stepped down, she was shocked by the lack of people to welcome them back to King’s Landing. Only a handful of servants and guards were there, as well as some lord who was unknown to her.

“Welcome home, your highness,” the lord proclaimed as he stepped forward. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

He took her mother’s hand in his own, placing a chaste kiss upon it. He then turned to Daemon and the children, bowing low out of respect.

“My apologies for the lack of ceremony, your highness. The Queen is rather occupied with your father at the moment.”

Rhaenyra smiled gracefully. “Not to worry, my lord, I understand.”

The young man smiled even brighter, a look of relief washing over his face. 

“I’m honored to be the one to welcome you back, Princess. If you’d please follow me, I’ll show you all to your chambers.”

Daemon rolled his eyes and leaned over to Varaena. “It’s a wonder he hasn’t fallen to the ground yet with how much he praises your mother.”

Varaena snickered in response, earning a look of warning from Rhaenyra. The young lord led them up the palace steps, and through the halls to their respective chambers. The Keep was so quiet, with very few servants roaming about, and guards at every door and corner. Much had changed in the last 6 years, with many of old tapestries and paintings having been torn down, and replaced with the Seven-Pointed Star, or other depictions of the gods. Varaena scoffed at it, at the Queen’s garish display of piety. 

While Alicent had never been cruel to her, her harsh criticisms of the Princess’ lack of faith and purity, and respect for tradition, had soured Varaena’s opinion of her greatly over the years.

The family were taken to the east wing of the castle, to their old chambers where they had resided when last they lived here. Nothing had changed since then, every aspect of their rooms the same as it once had been. While Rhaenyra and Daemon set off to see the King, Varaena took the chance to have some peace and quiet in her chambers. Her old desk was still littered with books, some still opened to the page she had been reading from. Papers were scattered around as well, with a number of quills resting on them, and an open, dry inkpot sitting at the edge of the desk. Candles sat on every surface of her chamber, most of them burned almost all the way down, reminding her of the countless nights spent lying awake, reading by candlelight, even after her mother had told her to go to sleep.

Her closet door was ajar, clothes strewn about from her rush to pack that night. A wooden rocking horse sat in the corner near her bed, a remnant from her childhood. She had grown out of it long before they left, but it was one thing she couldn’t bear to part with. Her grandfather had carved it for her himself for her second nameday, and she had loved it immensely. It was one of the few things that broke her heart to leave behind. Laying on its seat was a wooden sword, still in pristine condition, also carved by the King. When her brothers had started their training, she had complained that she wasn’t allowed. 

The Queen had agreed that it was improper, that girls were not meant to fight. But the King, who loved his granddaughter very much, declared that she should be allowed to train if that’s what she wanted. So, he presented her with a pair of wooden swords on her eighth nameday. She had been ecstatic, rushing to the training yard that instant, begging her brother to fight with her. But she had been faced with ridicule from her uncles, and brothers as well. They each refused to fight with her, telling her that she’d never be able to wield a sword. When she ran to her mother for comfort, her mother suggested that perhaps it was best for her to leave the fighting to the men, and stay by her side.

That night, she had cried herself to sleep. When her tears had dried, she crawled out of bed, and grabbed the swords from their resting place. She had then thrown one in the fire, watching it go up in smoke, just like her dreams of fitting in with her brothers. She wanted to burn the other one, but she thought of her grandfather, and how she wanted to make him proud. So she kept it, as a reminder.

The only thing that was neat and put together was her bed. The linens looked as though they’d been freshly washed, and the bed made up. The gossamer canopy was tied down to each poster of the bed, and a hand stitched blanket of green and black threads was thrown across the top of the bed.

That was definitely not something she remembered. Given the green of the blanket, she assumed it was a gift from the Queen, though why Alicent would be giving her gifts was beyond her.

Varaena sat down on the bed, smoothing the fabric with her hands, before laying back and looking up at the ceiling.

Many nights had been spent doing just this, looking up at the ceiling, wishing she was like her brothers. Perhaps her mother would have been proud of her if she was born a boy.

A knock on her door jolted her from her memories, and glanced over to see her brothers standing in the doorway.

“Did a hurricane blow through here?” Jace chuckled as he sat down beside her on the bed.

“What is all this stuff?” Luke asked, picking up one of the books and leafing through it.

“This is my stuff,” she replied, jumping up and snatching the book from him. “What did you think it was?”

“I don’t know. I just thought it was weird that all of your things are still here.”

“What do you mean?” She looked back and forth between them. “Are your things not in your chambers?”

“No, they’re practically bare,” Jacaerys explained. “I think yours and mother’s rooms are the only ones still left intact. Although, it makes sense they wouldn’t touch Mother’s, since she is the heir.”

“What can I say? I must be grandfather’s favorite,” she laughed as she ruffled Jace’s hair.

“What’s with the green blanket?” Lucerys picked it up off the bed.

“I’m not sure. It wasn’t here before, otherwise I would remember it. I assumed it was a gift from Alicent, though why, I couldn’t say.”

“I’d burn it if I were you,” Luke dangled it over the lit fireplace.

“Give me that!” She snatched it from his hands. “I’m not going to start a fight when we’ve only just arrived. I’d like a chance to see the King before we’re kicked out.”

“I don’t understand why we’re here in the first place. Lord Corlys has made it clear that Luke is his successor, so why the debate?” Jace questioned.

“You know why. It’s the age-old question about who your true father is. It doesn’t matter whether it was implied or explicitly said that Luke was to be the heir, as long as the rumors persist that Ser Laenor is not your father, the Queen and her cunt of a father will use whatever they can to discredit our family and make us powerless.”

“Don’t you mean our father?” Luke looked at her curiously. 

While Jacaerys either knew or at least guessed that they did not share the same father, sweet Lucerys had not quite figured that out. Varaena loved her brother dearly, but she had to admit, he was a little blind to not understand that. She had a similar facial structure to them, but that was where the similarities began and ended. 

“Of course,” she hastily replied. “That’s what I meant.”

She wasn’t about to burst his bubble and admit the truth, especially not while in the midst of Hightower territory. It was a well known fact by now, that while it may be Targaryen banners flying from the top of the Keep, the Hightowers were the true power behind the throne.

Just then there was another knock at the door, and one of the maids walked in, curtsying to each of them.

“Pardon me, your highnesses. Princess, your mother has requested your presence in the King’s chambers.”

“Thank you. Please let her know I’ll be there shortly.”

The girl curtsied again, before hurrying off.

“Well, I will see you boys later. Do try not to get into too much trouble in my absence,” she winked at them before giving each a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s not our fault, dear sister. Trouble just always seems to find us,” Jace said innocently.

Varaena rolled her eyes as she walked into the hall, excited to see her grandfather. She was almost to the door, when she spotted Alicent walking towards her.

“Your grace,” she curtsied. 

“Ah, Princess Varaena. A pleasure to see you again.”

Despite the smile on her face, the Queen’s tone did not suggest that this was a pleasurable experience.

“Going to see the King?” Alicent asked.

“Yes, your grace. I have missed him greatly, and am very happy to get to see him again.”

“I’m sure seeing you will make his day better. He talks about you all the time.”

Varaena smiled at her, doing her best to hide her desire to leave.

“Varaena, would you like to join me for tea later in my chambers?” Alicent took her hands as she asked.

Varaena was taken aback by the question, unable to hide her shock. 

“Are you alright dear? You’ve gone quite pale.”

“Oh, uh, yes, I’m-I’m fine,” Varaena stuttered. “I’m-I just wasn’t expecting the invitation, your grace.”

“Oh, well,” Alicent straightened her dress. “I do hope you can attend.”

“Of course your grace, I’d be honored.”

“Very good, I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Alicent squeezed her hands again, before continuing down the hall, presumably to the throne room. The trial was to take place within the hour, and she was sure the Queen had to rehearse whatever lies she had prepared.

Varaena was still in shock. She had always believed the Queen didn’t like her, much like she hated her siblings. And yet, here she was, inviting her for tea. For whatever reason, the Queen was taking an interest in her, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. But she prayed to the gods above that the Queen’s sons weren’t joining them, otherwise it would be the tea from hell.

Chapter Text

Varaena stood outside the doors to the King’s chambers for what felt like ages. She wasn’t sure why she hesitated to go in, but the moment she reached for the handle, she felt her heart start beating faster and her lungs constrict. 

So here she stood, trying to work up the courage to enter the room. She took a few more deep breaths, calming herself.

“Calm yourself, Varaena,” she whispered to herself, reaching for the handle yet again. 

The stench of sickness flooded her nostrils instantly, causing her stomach to roil. It took every ounce of willpower to not vomit on the spot. The door shut quietly behind her, as she made her way further into the dark and dusty room. The miniature version of the city that the King had carved himself sat unfinished on one side of the room, covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. The windows were shut, and the thin drapes pulled closed so that only a small amount of light shone through.

Through the archway, she could see the King’s bed, surrounded by the canopy, and the thin figure of her grandfather reclined in it. Her mother and father were nowhere to be seen, presumably having gone down to the throne room to begin the hearing and plead their case. 

Varaena was grateful to have escaped it, as she could not bear to be in the same room as him if she could help it. She had seen him only once since she left King’s Landing, a day which had already broken their relationship, but after what happened on Driftmark, she was sure that he hated her just as much as she did him.

“Grandfather?” She whispered, approaching the side of the bed.

When she saw his face, her heart almost stopped beating. 

His skin was gray, and peeling, his face so sunken in there was barely any flesh. Half of his face was covered in some kind of gold mask, covering what she could only assume to be a disfiguration of his face, even worse than the rest.

His visible eye was closed, but he looked far from peaceful. He had the look of someone who was constantly in pain, his illness tormenting him every moment he lived and breathed.

“Grandfather?” She said again, laying her hand gently on his arm.

Viserys shifted in his sleep, a moan of pain emitting from his lips at the movement.

“Aemma,” he muttered, his voice cracking.

“It’s me, grandfather, Varaena.”

His eye opened, blinking fast as it adjusted to the light. He gazed at her for a long time, as though his addled brain was struggling to place her. 

Varaena knew that illness could affect a person in terrible ways, but this seemed extreme. Her eyes fell to the side table, where there rested a bottle with a milky, white liquid.

Milk of the poppy, no doubt. It did wonders for the pain, but left you mind in a fragile state.

“Varaena,” Viserys whispered. 

His hand raised ever so slightly, his fingers barely skin and bones now, but he could only get it so far as to touch her forearm before it gave out. She quickly took his hand in her own, raising it to her face and kissing the back of it, ignoring the stench of death that surrounded him.

“Varaena,” he said again, a clarity coming to his eyes the longer he looked at her.

She smiled sweetly at him, forcing herself not to cry as he remembered who she was.

“I know your face,” he spoke weakly. “You…look just like your grandmother.”

“So I’ve been told,” she laughed lightly. “I can only hope to be just a little like her.”

“You are, my dear girl. You always have been.”

Tears had begun to form in his eye, now dripping down his cheek and leaving a wet spot on the pillow linens.

“I’ve missed you, sweet girl,” he cried, stroking the side of her cheek. 

“I’ve missed you, too, grandfather. More than I could ever say.”

“I thought I saw your mother earlier,” he looked around the room as if to see if she was still there.

“Yes, she was here. She and Daemon, as well as my brothers, are in the throne room, attending the hearing.”

“What hearing?”

Varaena gave him a confused look. “Has no one told you? Lord Corlys is in grave condition, and Lucerys’ position as heir has been contested. So now, my mother is forced to come here and attend this farce of a trial in order to defend her son’s rightful position.”

A look of anger passed over his face, and his breathing changed from slow, deep breaths, to short and fast. 

“I dreamt she was here…she asked me to…defend her.” 

“Please, grandfather,” Varaena implored him, “don’t let her face this alone.”

Viserys stared at her for a long time, and Varaena wasn’t entirely sure that he had understood what she said. But then, a groan came from his lips as he shifted his position. She could feel his legs starting to move toward the side of the bed, as he used whatever strength he had left in his arms to push himself up.

“What-what are you doing?” She moved to try and help him back to bed.

“I…I must get up. I must be there for her,” Viserys muttered.

“No, you’re not strong enough! Please, just get back in bed. All I meant was for you to comfort her, to send someone to relay a message, or something like that, I didn’t mean for you to get up!”

“She is my daughter. I must do what I can for her.”

He struggled to his feet, almost toppling over as he stood, but Varaena was quick to catch him. He looked up at her, smiling in a melancholic way. She knew that she must be a stranger to him, trapped forever in his mind as the little girl he had last seen. She always regretted that she never came to visit him in the time she had lived on Dragonstone, but her mother would never have let her come by herself, and Rhaenyra was not inclined to come back unless forced. And besides, she had sworn to never return as long as he resided there, though it seems she had now broken that rule.

“I am not dead yet,” he continued, “and I am still the King.”

“Let me at least call a guard to help you,” she moved towards the door to call the guard outside.. 

But he wouldn’t have it.

“I do not need a guard. Only you.”

Varaena blinked away tears as she stared at him.

“Do not tell the others, but you, my sweet girl, were always my favorite. The spitting image of your mother, and grandmother.”

Her heart fluttered a bit. It was something she had always joked about, but to know it was true, to know that to at least one person she was important, made her feel seen for the first time in her life.

“Lean on me,” she offered him her arm, which he took without hesitation.

She could see the struggle in his eyes, though, because no matter how much he loved and trusted her, he was a proud man, who did not like to be seen as weak.

But he would never, could never be that. Not in her eyes.

Varaena had thought it would be a struggle to help him down to the throne room, but given how much weight he had lost, it was much easier than expected, though it was a slow going.

Each guard they passed looked shocked at the sight of their king out of bed and walking about, but they bowed low, showing great respect for their peaceful king.

When they reached the doors, she looked over at him. She could see that he was tired already, and worried that perhaps she shouldn’t have let him come down here.

“It’s not too late to turn back, if you are in too much pain,” she suggested.

Viserys shook his head weakly. “I’ll be alright, dear girl. Besides, I have you to lean on.”

He gripped her hand tighter, both in comfort, and for his own reassurance. Despite her worry, Varaena nodded to the guards to open the doors. Voices could be heard even through the thick wood, and currently her mother was speaking.

“May I remind the court, that it was nearly twenty years ago, in this very room that-” Rhaenyra was cut off by the sudden opening of the doors, and the appearance of the King.

A gasp of shock rang through the crowd, many of them surprised to not only see Viserys up, but to see him on the arm of his eldest grandchild. Otto Hightower, who had been sitting on the edge of the Iron Throne, stood slowly, glancing over to his daughter, who shook her head in confusion.

“Arrogant cunt,” Varaena whispered to herself.

“King Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm!”

The guard’s voice echoed through the silent hall as he announced the King.

“Princess Varaena Velaryon, of Dragonstone, firstborn daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne.”

It felt strange to hear her name announced to the court, a remnant of a time long past. 

Her family stared at her in disbelief as she helped the King down the steps of the Great Hall. Rhaenyra wondered what had transpired between the two that Viserys was willing to put himself through this. Her brothers, however, looked at her with pride.

It felt like hours had passed by the time they reached the steps to the throne. As they passed Alicent and Otto, Viserys turned to them and said, “I will sit the throne today.”

Viserys was tired, having used much of his energy to get down here. He stopped Varaena for a moment, whispering that he needed to catch his breath. She waited patiently till he was ready, then began helping him up the steps, only for him to stumble and almost fall. But she was quick to catch him, and strong enough to bear most of his weight the rest of the way. When she had helped him to sit, she started to turn around, to go stand beside her family as was proper, but Viserys grabbed her hand, preventing her from leaving.

“Stay. Stand beside me here,” he motioned to his right hand side.

She almost considered refusing. No one but the Hand had stood beside the throne, not since Queen Aemma, not even Alicent. This was a prominent display of favor, one that she didn’t feel she deserved. But the look on his face told her that he needed to know she was beside him. That at least someone was. 

So there she stood.

But when she had turned around to face the crowd, she saw Daemon standing halfway up the steps, holding the crown reverently in his hands. It must have fallen from Viserys’ head as he stumbled, and the whole room held its breath, wondering what Daemon would do.

But to the shock of all, he walked up to the throne, placed the crown on his brother’s head, and bowed low before him. Viserys smiled weakly at him, obviously pleased to have his brother back after so long. Daemon glanced at Varaena, winking at her, before walking back down to stand beside her mother.

Varaena stared straight ahead, only letting her gaze wander long enough to meet her brothers’ eyes, both of whom looked at her with great pride, unable to hide their wide grins, despite the severity of the matter before them.

“I am confused,” Viserys huffed, “as to why we are discussing a settled succession.”

No one spoke for a moment, before Vaemond Velaryon stepped forth, anger written plainly across his face.

“The matter is far from settled, your grace. My brother is soon to meet the Stranger, with no clear heir to take his place.”

“The Prince Lucerys is the heir to Driftmark, or have you forgotten, Vaemond?”

Vaemond scoffed at the mere suggestion. “I forget nothing. I remember how you broke law and hundreds of years of tradition, to install a woman as the heir!”

“You forget your place, Vaemond,” Alicent snapped. She may prefer her son being heir over Rhaenyra, but she would not stand for the disrespect of the king.

“ My place is Lord of Driftmark! And I will not stand by as my house is disgraced!”

Vaemond whipped around to face Rhaenyra. He took slow steps towards her and the boys, a wild look on his face.

“Disgraced!” He continued. “All because of this-this-”

He cut himself off mid sentence, as if he knew his next words would cross the line, even more than he already had.

Varaena watched with great interest, her eyes flitting back and forth between Daemon, who stood there, hand on the hilt of his sword, just waiting for Vaemond to say the wrong thing, and Viserys, who was leaning forward, as if waiting for the right moment to call the guards.

“Say it,” Daemon demanded, his eyes never leaving Vaemond’s.

Vaemond scoffed at him, a smirk slowly creeping up. 

“Her children…are BASTARDS!” He shouted, his voice filling the echoey halls.

People gasped at his declaration, because while many people spoke of it in hushed whispers, they would never dare to say it so publicly, and especially not in front of the King if they valued their lives. But then he made an even worse mistake.

“And she…is… a whore .”

He insulted the King’s daughter.

Viserys started to his feet, his bony hands feebly gripping the hilt of his sword.

“I will have your tongue for that,” he gasped.

The guards started to move closer to the crowd, waiting for an order from the King.

Then the sound of a sword slicing through the air, and the crack of the blade splitting open a skull.

Screams rang through the crowd, many averted their eyes, as Vaemond’s head rolled towards the throne, his tongue still attached to the rest of his body.

Varaena gasped, her gaze flying to where Vaemond had been standing, to see Daemon, his bloody sword still in hand.

“He can keep his tongue,” Daemon growled.

Varaena couldn’t help the small smile that crept up her face. But then she made the mistake of looking to where Alicent and Otto had been standing, wishing to gauge their reaction. 

Her eyes met his. 

And her heart dropped.

Chapter Text

6 Years Ago

“What do you mean we’re leaving?” Varaena questioned, still shocked by her mother’s declaration.

“Your father and I have decided it’s time to leave for Dragonstone. We should have done so years ago, but recent events have made it even more necessary.”

Rhaenyra looked at each of her children, gauging their reactions. Jace and Luke seemed to be excited at the prospect of leaving, which she had expected. But she had not expected her daughter to seem so displeased.

“Boys, why don’t you go and start figuring out which things you’d like to take with you? Books and such, and start packing them away.”

“Yes, mother,” they said in tandem.

The door shut quietly behind them, and Rhaenyra turned to her daughter, who still sat glued to her chair.

“What’s wrong, my sweet?” Rhaenyra sat down beside her.

“I just…I don’t want to leave, mother. I’m not ready to leave.”

Tears were forming in her eyes and she was doing her best to hold them back.

“Whyever not? Aren’t you excited to see Dragonstone, get away from the stink of the city?”

“I don’t mind it so much. And besides, there’s-” Varaena stopped speaking before she said something she knew she would regret.

“What?” Her mother pressed.

“Nothing-it’s nothing. But I haven’t even bonded with a dragon yet, how can I go away to Dragonstone without my own dragon?”

“It’s not as though there aren’t dragons there, dear.”

“Those dragons haven’t had riders in generations, mother, and that’s not likely to change. They don’t let anyone near their caves, and I’d rather not be burned alive.”

Rhaenyra sighed, reaching up to tuck a strand of her daughter’s hair behind her ear. Varaena shrugged her off and stood up suddenly.

“What if I never find my dragon? What if I’m destined to be the only Targaryen with no dragon?” She exclaimed.

“You can’t think like that. Just because you haven’t gotten one yet doesn’t mean you never will. You forget your uncle Aemond has no dragon either.”

Varaena rolled her eyes. “I’ve not forgotten, mother. The idiot won’t let me or anyone else forget. But I know in my heart that he’s going to get one sooner rather than later, while I’ll still be stuck with my feet planted firmly on the ground.”

She paced around the room for a moment, before turning back to face her mother.

“How is it fair that my brothers have dragons, and I do not? I am a full blooded Targaryen! They are only half, but they both bonded with dragons almost instantly!”

Varaena was shouting by this point, her anger getting the best of her. Her mother, however, had been shocked into silence, the blood draining from her face as her daughter’s words sunk in.

“What-what do you mean by that?” Rhaenyra stumbled over her words a bit.

“I’m not a fool, mother. Like everyone else, I can see the obvious. I know Ser Laenor is not my father, nor is he my brothers’.”

Rhaenyra opened her mouth to speak, but not a sound came out.

“Jacaerys and Lucerys belong to Ser Harwin, don’t they?” Varaena pressed on.

Her mother averted her eyes, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, and not quite sure how to answer.

“They are Targaryens, as are you,” was her only answer. “That is all that matters.”

Varaena scoffed at her. “Maybe to you. I can’t speak for my brothers, but I for one would like to know my true parentage.”

“I’m sorry, Varaena. I’m afraid you will be disappointed.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. I so often am by you.”

“Varaena!” Rhaenyra scolded. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means, mother? When have you ever lived up to my expectations?” 

Rhaenyra was taken aback. “I do my best, Varaena, but you are not the only child I have to care for!”

“A fact I am never able to forget,” Varaena sighed disappointedly.

She turned around to leave, not wishing to speak to her mother for a moment longer.

“Where are you going?” Her mother called just as she reached the door.

“To pack! Might as well since I can only assume we will be leaving as soon as possible, no matter what I say to you.”

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Rhaenyra in a shocked silence, while Varaena stomped down the halls toward her chambers, angry with her mother for forcing them to uproot their lives with no warning, and for refusing to admit the truth, even if it was as plain as the nose on her face.

“There you are,” a voice came from across her room as she entered.

Aemond was standing in front of her fireplace, leafing through a book. His brow furrowed when he saw the look on her face.

“What’s the matter with you?” He questioned.

“I just came from my mother’s chambers,” Varaena huffed. “She and my father have decided we’re to leave for Dragonstone.”

“What? Why?”

“I have no idea. Something is obviously going on, but she won’t tell me. She won’t tell me anything, apparently.”

“Such as?” Aemond tried to clarify.

Varaena stared at him for a moment, wondering if it was safe to tell him the truth. He had become a confidant for her, and she for him, despite their bickering. But she wasn’t sure if this was something she could trust him with.

“Nothing, really, it’s just something that she’s been keeping from me for years, and when I finally asked her about it, she refused to speak of it. It just bothers me that she won’t admit what I already know.”

She tried to be as vague as possible, hoping that perhaps he wouldn’t put two and two together. She knew the rumors that circulated through not just the Keep, but the entire city. And she knew that the Queen was not shy about encouraging those rumors, so it wasn’t a stretch to assume that Aemond had heard them as well.

“What does it matter? If you already know the truth, why do you need her to admit it to you?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s the principle of the thing, Aemond. I just want her to see that I’m capable of knowing all the facts.”

“I still don’t understand why it matters. What exactly are you asking her about?”

“It’s nothing, let’s just drop it.”

She turned and headed towards her closet, figuring she should start packing her belongings since she didn’t know for sure when they were leaving.

“Why? Don’t you trust me?” Aemond followed her.

“It’s not about that, Aemond, there’s just some things I can’t tell you.”

Aemond was silent for a bit, so she turned around to see what was keeping him silent.

But he was just standing there, watching her intensely, almost scrutinizing her. 

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just thinking about what your mother might be hiding from you,” was his reply.

Varaena furrowed her brow suspiciously, hoping the conversation would end there.

She went back to sorting through her dresses, and silence filled the room. 

But it didn’t last.

“It wouldn’t, perhaps, have anything to do with your father, would it?”

Varaena’s hands froze in the middle of folding her clothes. She couldn’t even bring herself to meet his eyes.

“Or rather, his identity?” He continued, a smirk appearing on his face.

“I-I don’t-I don’t know what you mean,” she stuttered.

“There’s no point in denying it. Everyone knows Ser Laenor couldn’t be your natural father, nor your brothers’. I mean, none of you look a thing like him.”

He was so arrogant, and smug about it. It made her want to push him out the window.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, so, please, just get out,” she demanded.

But instead of leaving like she asked, he instead plopped down on the settee at the foot of her bed, making himself comfortable, as though he planned to stay there forever.

“There’s no need to get angry, I’m only speaking the truth.” 

Blood rushed to her face in anger, and her fists clenched so hard she could feel the skin breaking.

“Please, just shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What’s there to know? Your mother fucked someone else, while she was married to Ser Laenor, and gave birth to a bastard. You. Then she did it again, and again, and again. Honestly, does she have no shame?”

Varaena was practically seething by this point.

“But it still begs the question who your real father is. It can’t possibly be the same as your brothers’, but I have a few ideas. No one’s seen Daemon since the night of your mother’s wedding.”

Her heart stopped completely. She had wondered about her father’s identity during many, many sleepless nights. And while she had thought the same as Aemond, she had never voiced that idea. It was like admitting something she hoped wasn’t true.

“You…are the real bastard, Aemond.”

Aemond almost seemed amused by her reaction, like it was exactly what he had expected, and she was just fueling the flames.

“How can you be so stupid? So unfeeling?” she exclaimed. 

“The only unfeeling one here is your mother. She obviously doesn’t understand the meaning of the word loyalty. Nor does she understand propriety, either. At this rate, she belongs with the other whores on the Street of Silk.”

“You’re just like your mother,” Varaena spat. “Just as heartless, just as cruel.”

Aemond’s demeanor changed in an instant, and she knew she had hit a nerve.

“Don’t talk about my mother like that,” he growled. “She’s the Queen. Show her some respect.”

“I will talk about her however I wish, especially after the things you said about mine!”

“How Ser Laenor could claim you as his own, I’ll never understand. You aren’t worthy of the name Targaryen, much less Velaryon. If I were him, I’d have thrown you out onto the streets along with all the other bastards.”

“At least my father wants me, yours couldn’t be bothered to pay you any attention,” she shot back.

A muscle ticked in his jaw, indicating this was yet another sore point.

“You know, I’m so happy that you’re leaving. If I had to spend one more second in your presence, I might have to kill myself.”

“Then why are you still here?” she screeched. “If you hate me so much, why did you bother befriending me? Was it just to torment me?”

“Because every moment spent with you reminds me that I am lucky to not be a bastard like you. You, whose mother spread her legs for any willing man. I pity whatever man will have to marry you one day. I would rather pitch myself off the highest tower in the Red Keep than debase myself with you.”

Every word was like a knife to her heart. Her face grew pale as tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked them away, determined not to let this boy see her cry, especially not because of him.

A look of some unknown emotion flashed briefly across his face, but was soon replaced with a smug smirk. He was reveling in her pain, and it only made her angrier. Before she realized what she was doing, she had drawn her hand back, her fist clenched tightly, before her knuckles met his nose.

He let out a cry of agonizing pain, and blood began dripping from his nostrils. Aemond stumbled backwards, clutching his nose, the blood now trickling between his fingers. His eyes were at first shut tightly, but now they looked at her in shock and anger.

“You…bitch!” He gasped out. “You broke my nose!”

“And I will do a lot worse than that if you don’t shut your mouth!”

“If you touch me again I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Call me a bastard again? Or maybe you’ll go running to your mother, like the baby you are.”

Aemond scoffed in anger, opening his mouth several times to speak, but no words would come, only incoherent sounds. 

When he finally did find his ability to speak, she would snap back with some clever retort. And so they went back and forth for several minutes, till the door opened, and in walked Rhaenyra, with Ser Laenor close behind her.

She stood there for a moment, looking back and forth between the children, taken aback by the angry looks on their faces, and the blood dripping down Aemond’s chin.

“What in the Seven Hells is going on here?” She marched over to Aemond, taking his face in her hands and examining his broken nose.

Aemond tore himself from his sister’s grasp, looking up at her with a spiteful gaze. He glanced back at Varaena, with eyes full of anger, and hate.

It was a look that sent a thousand tiny cracks through her heart. Because she knew that from this moment on, they would never be friends again. This was something that she did not believe would ever be repaired. That look he had told her that he would hate her till the day she died. 

Varaena had hoped to prevent this. She had hoped that by befriending him, maybe she could repair some of the damage done by their mothers, and everything that had happened since the day her grandfather married Alicent Hightower, but it seemed that was not to be. Despite her best efforts, they had followed the same path as their mothers.

“One day,” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear, “you’ll get what’s coming to you, bastard. And I pray to the gods I’m there to see it.”

With that, he ran from the room, presumably to his mother, leaving her to pick up the pieces.

She wanted to scream at him, wanted to hit him again. It seemed that just as quickly as her heart had broken, the sadness was quickly replaced with loathing.

“What happened?” Rhaenyra repeated again, taking her daughter’s arm roughly.

Varaena wrenched it away, the tears now spilling down her cheeks.

“You happened! You and your-your-your infidelity!”

Rhaenyra gasped, opening her mouth to say something, but Varaena wasn’t finished.

“Why did you have to do it? Why couldn’t Ser Laenor be my father?” Her throat was becoming raw from the screams. “Do you know what they whisper to me in the halls? Bastard! That’s what they call me, that’s what HE called me! And now I’ve lost the only friend I had, and it’s your fault!”

Varane stomped towards her bedchamber, taking the doors in hand.

She turned around to face her mother again, and yelled, “I hate you!”

The slam of the doors reverberated through the walls, shaking a few of her bookshelves. She leaned against the hard wood as her knees buckled and she fell to the floor.

On the other side of the door, she could hear her parents talking in desperate tones.

“What did you think would happen, Rhaenyra? They’re not babes anymore, they understand what the word ‘bastard’ means,” Laenor murmured.

“I know, but I-”

“And besides, they have to see that none of them look anything like me. That is the main argument, is it not?”

Rhaenyra didn’t speak for a moment. 

“Perhaps it’s a good thing we’re leaving in a few hours,” Laenor continued. “Get the children away from all this nonsense. Especially with Ser Harwin leaving, I’m sure that hasn’t helped matters any.”

Varaena wondered what he meant by that.

Rhaenyra must have agreed with him, because a few moments later, the doors to Varaena’s chambers opened and shut, leaving her alone.

All alone.

Chapter Text

The scars running above and below his eyepatch sent a chill down her spine, taking her mind back to that wretched night.

But she couldn’t think of it now.

Now, she could only see the look on his face, practically unreadable. Different emotions passed through, until he finally settled on a face of stone. 

But his eye, his good eye, never left her gaze. 

She turned away from him, instead focusing on the blood pooling on the floor. 

Vaemond’s head still lay on the floor at the bottom of the steps, his lifeless eyes staring up at her. Her stomach lurched slightly at the sight, but it settled quickly when she realized Daemon was still standing there, hand on his sword, looking smugly up at her and the king.

“Guards!” Otto yelled. “Disarm him!”

“No need,” Daemon said simply, lifting his sword to wipe the blade, before sheathing it at his side.

The whole room was still in shock, trying to wrap their brains around what had just happened. Helaena had her hands over her ears, muttering something to herself, Alicent’s arms still wrapped protectively around her. But her attention was drawn to the king as he took a step forward, and stumbled, his cane clattering to the floor.

“Grandfather?” Varaena started forward, grabbing his arm and wrapping her other arm around his body.

“Somebody fetch the maester!” Alicent cried, rushing up the steps to her husband.

She and Varaena helped him sit back on the throne, his breathing heavy as his whole body began to tremble.

“My love, you must take something for the pain,” Alicent urged him.

But the king refused. He simply leaned his head back against the throne, mumbling to himself, until the maester came to take him back to his chambers.

Varaena started to follow, wanting to help however she could, but Alicent waved her away.

“Don’t worry, my dear, he’ll be alright. Stay here, with your family. I’ll see you for supper later, alright?”

Varaena nodded silently, her eyes following them as they walked slowly towards the doors, before she descended the steps herself.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Aemond take a step forward, but she ignored him, and, instead, made a beeline for her brothers.

“Are you both alright?” She questioned them.

“Yes, we’re fine. You?”

She nodded lightly, smiling at them. Her boys were strong, not much fazed them.

“Fine job, getting the King to come down here himself,” Daemon praised her. 

“I didn’t do anything,” Varaena argued. But then a thought overtook her. “Did you…did you send me there to try and convince him?”

Daemon and Rhaenyra shared a look that went unnoticed by everyone but her.

“I can’t believe this,” she muttered. “You used me!”

“Varaena, don’t be so dramatic,” her mother chastised. “We weren’t using you. But you know your grandfather loves you very much.”

“Enough to do whatever I ask? Because he’s not wrapped around your little thumb anymore, is he?”

“That is entirely uncalled for,” Daemon cut in. “Apologize to your mother!”

“You are not my father,” she hissed.

Daemon retracted a bit, his brows furrowing at her words, but he said nothing.

“Varaena…” Rhaenyra began, but Varane just turned and started in the other direction, her brothers following her.

“Your grandfather has requested we all have dinner tonight!” Their mother shouted after them.

“We’ll be there!” Jacaerys replied when his sister didn’t.

Jace and Luke followed closely behind her till they reached the courtyard.

“Are you alright?” Luke asked her, taking her arm.

“Of course,” she replied briskly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, what was that with Daemon? It seemed a bit…tense.”

“It’s nothing, I promise. Don’t worry about it.”

Lucerys didn’t look convinced, so she pulled him into a tight hug to assure him, and herself as well, truth be told. She loved her brothers deeply, and they never failed to make her feel better.

“Why don’t you two run along, I’ll be alright,” she smiled at them, her arm still around Lucerys.

“Are you sure? We could stay with you till dinner?” Jacaerys offered.

“No, no, please, go enjoy yourselves. Maybe go and spend some time with Baela and Rhaena? I heard you’d been betrothed.”

Varaena winked at them, causing Jace to smirk, and Luke to blush. She laughed at her brothers, quite obviously already taken with their future brides, before she sent them scampering off.

She stood in the courtyard watching them, wondering what she was going to do with herself till dinner.

“Well, well…the bastard returns,” a deep voice drawled behind her.

Varaena’s blood ran cold, and her heart stopped beating at the sound of his voice. 

“Against my will, I’m afraid,” she managed to get out. “Otherwise I would never have set foot here again.”

She turned around, slowly, to face Aemond. He had that permanent smirk on his face, arrogant as he was, he probably appreciated that about himself. 

“Are you sure about that? I find I’m apparently very hard to stay away from,” he approached her.

“I did a pretty good job, I think, staying away for six years. You’re about as appealing as a boil on my face,” she said sarcastically.

Aemond snorted. “You can’t do any better than that? Come now, you used to have much better retorts when we were children.”

“Maybe, but you still haven’t come up with a better insult than ‘bastard’, have you? Just consider yourself lucky I haven’t made an attempt on your life yet. Did I not swear to kill you the next time I saw you?”

Whatever humor Aemond had left his face the moment she mentioned that night. His eye grew dark, filled with loathing once more.

“I’d like to see you try,” he grumbled. “I’d be surprised if you could even manage to draw blood, pathetic as you are.”

Varaena stiffened, not wanting to feed into his desire to rile her up.

“What do you want, Aemond? To torture me some more?”

“While it is my favorite pastime, that’s not why I’m here. I’m on an errand for my mother. She said to meet her in her chambers tomorrow morning, if that works for you.”

“Well, tell her I said thank you,” Varaena nodded.

“Why she would want to have tea with you is beyond me. Even a few minutes in your presence makes me want to vomit.”

“No one asked your opinion, and you won’t be there anyway.”

Aemond looked her up and down, as if he was assessing her, and she didn’t like it.

“Have you finished looking, or is there something else you’re after?”

“The only thing I want is for your family to leave as quickly as possible. I’ll be damned if I have to see your face a moment longer than is necessary.”

“I feel quite the same, Aemond. In fact, to return your sentiments from years ago, I sincerely hope you die an agonizing death one day, and that I get to be there to watch.”

With that, she walked inside, leaving him alone to watch her go. 

She didn’t see the smile that rose on his lips as he watched her walk away.

Chapter Text

Varaena had paced around her room for what seemed like hours before her maids came to prepare her for dinner. According to her mother, Viserys had wanted to have dinner with all his family together, something that hadn’t been done since long before she left for Dragonstone. She had a feeling this would turn out to be a very interesting night.

Having unfortunately already spoken to Aemond, she still had yet to talk to Helaena and Aegon. She and Helaena had always got on well, and she had been sad to leave her friend behind. Aegon, too, had been a friend, though not a close one, but perhaps things had changed. Although, she had heard rumors throughout the castle of Aegon’s antics and she wasn’t sure what to believe in regards to those.

The dress she had chosen was a deep maroon, with lengths of shimmering black gossamer sewed to the back, just under her shoulder blades, trailing along behind her. The sleeveless dress showed off her collarbone, a simple gold necklace with the Targaryen crest hanging from her neck, and gold bangles lined with rubies on her upper arms. 

Her hair was left down, falling just above her bottom, with a few strands pulled out of her face and pinned back, leaving her violet eyes and rosy lips on display.

She felt slightly overdressed, but it was worth it if it put that self-righteous cunt in his place. She was heir to the throne, after all, after her mother, and she wanted to make sure he remembered that.

Everyone had already arrived by the time she got there, a silence overtaking the room as the door opened.

“Princess Varaena, your grace,” the guard announced as she entered. 

The table sat horizontally across the floor, with the King sat in the middle, Alicent on his right, and Rhaenyra on his left. Viserys smiled as she entered, beckoning her over to him. 

She took note of where everyone was sitting as she walked in. Daemon sat next to her mother, and her brothers and step-sisters on the same end, while Otto sat next to Alicent, and her uncles and aunt on that end as well. The only empty seat was between Jacaerys and Aegon, both of whom stood as she entered, along with Lucerys and Daemon. 

But Aemond stayed sitting, out of spite she was sure. Her eyes narrowed as they met his, but she kept her chin high, and walked around the table to her grandfather.

“Hello, Grandfather,” she kissed him on the cheek. “Are you feeling better?”

“Much better, now that you’re here,” Viserys wheezed.

She squeezed his hand, before walking back to take her seat next to her brother and uncle.

Jacaerys kissed her on the cheek as she took her place, filling her goblet almost immediately with the pitcher of wine that sat on the table.

“You look beautiful,” Jace whispered in her ear. “Rather unlike you, isn’t it?”

Varaena elbowed him in the ribs, briefly knocking the breath out of him.

“Hello, niece,” Aegon butted in from her left.

“Hello, uncle,” she turned to face him. “Been a long time.”

“Indeed it has. I seem to recall you were threatening to strangle my brother the last time I saw you. Still having any murderous fantasies?”

“Perhaps. Are you still drunkenly chasing after any woman to cross your path?”

Aegon snorted, his only reply was taking a long sip of wine.

Varaena leaned forward to see Helaena on the other side of Aegon.

“And how are you Helaena?”

Helaena seemed a bit surprised that someone was addressing her.

“I’m well, thank you,” she replied softly.

“And your children? Twins, I heard. You must be pleased.”

“Oh, yes, I adore them.”

When Varaena leaned back in her seat, she noticed Alicent watching Helaena closely, a sad smile growing on her face as she saw her daughter open a bit more, if only to talk about her children.

Aemond, however, seemed offended by the sight of Varaena daring to speak to his sister.

Varaena simply raised her glass to him, smirking all the while.

“Varaena,” Viserys breathed from across the table. “Your nameday is approaching, is it not?”

“Yes, Grandfather, next week,” she replied as she speared one of the potatoes on her plate.

“Have you given any thoughts to how you’d like to celebrate?” Alicent asked.

“Not really, truth be told. In past years, we haven’t done much, just a walk around the beach, perhaps a gift or two. Sometimes, Jace will take me for a ride on Vermax.”

“That’s all? No celebration?”

Varaena shook her head. She tried not to think about it, the lack of celebration. Her mother would often plan parties for her brothers for their namedays, inviting some of their closest friends and allies, which included the Starks and the Martells. While she did have fun celebrating her brothers, she felt the pang of loneliness when she saw the effort her mother made for her brothers and not for her.

“Well, that simply won’t do. How about we plan a ball? We could invite many of the Great Houses, not just those who reside in the city. Would you like that?”

Her smile widened at the Queen’s suggestion, excitement already building. 

“Sounds like a wonderful idea…my love,” Viserys groaned as he clutched his side.

Alicent leaned over to whisper to him, most likely checking to make sure he was alright, but he waved her away. Uneasily, he stood to his feet, using his cane and one hand on the table to support himself.

“It warms my heart,” he began, “to see all those I hold dear at one table, together. It has been so long since I’ve seen many of your faces, and I worried I would not see them again before I died.”

Viserys raised his hand shakily to untie the straps holding the golden mask to his face. Alicent’s eyes grew when she realized what he was doing, but Varaena’s curiosity was piqued. But nothing could have prepared her for the sight before her.

His face had sunken in even greater on the side previously hidden by the mask, a large area of skin and muscle practically gone with bits of bone from his jaw peaking through. His right eye was completely gone, leaving a gaping hole where it once had been, the atrophied muscles on full display. 

Her stomach roiled, and her heart dropped, at the sight of her once healthy grandfather now reduced to a ghost of the great man he used to be.

“I want you all to see me as I am, for I know I’m not long left for this world. To see you all together, getting along, is the only thing I wished to see before I passed.”

He reached down and picked up his goblet, the liquid sploshing a bit as his hand shook.

“To my family,” he toasted.

“To family,” they all raised their glasses as well.

Viserys fell back into his chair, visibly tired, but he refused Alicent’s suggestion to retire to bed.

“I would like to make a toast as well,” Helaena said unexpectedly.

Alicent seemed quite surprised at this declaration, which wasn’t unexpected as Varaena had heard that Helaena had become even more withdrawn since her marriage to Aegon. 

“To Jacaerys and Lucerys, and their future wives, Bhaela and Rhaena. I hope you’ll be happy. It isn’t so bad you know,” she seemed to be speaking mainly to Bhaela and Rhaena at this point. “Mostly he just ignores you. Except when he’s drunk.”

Everyone was rather uncomfortable upon hearing her statement, but they still reciprocated her toast, attempting to carry on with the evening for Viserys’ sake.

Jacaerys stood suddenly, making his way over to Helaena while motioning for the musicians to start playing.

“May I have this dance, milady?” He said with a flourish of his hand.

Helaena looked up at him, mouth open in surprise, but she happily took his hand, and they made their way to the middle of the floor as the music picked up. 

Otto clapped for his granddaughter, while Rhaenyra watched her son proudly. Helaena looked to be having the time of her life, dancing with Jace, but Aegon didn’t seem to care.

“So tell me, niece, any suitors yet?” Aegon said to her.

She rolled her eyes at him. “No, not yet. I’m happy enough by myself, thank you.”

“You can’t be serious! No one is happy by themselves.”

“I can assure you I am,” she smiled as she took a sip of wine.

“Wouldn’t you like to have someone beside you, warming your bed?” His voice dropped as he leaned closer.

“Why? Are you offering?”

“Perhaps…”

“Have you forgotten you’re married?”

“Not at all, but I don’t believe we should be confined to just one bed.”

“Well I’m afraid I do. I’m just a one man at a time kind of girl,” was her reply.

She had to admit she was a little flattered, though she knew deep down that he was only offering out of boredom, and an interest to have what he had never had before.

A clatter at one end of the table had her looking over to see Aemond clutching his goblet so tight his knuckles had turned white. She glared at him before returning to her own plate, while her brother and Helaena kept dancing, the music now having changed. 

Her mother stood and gave another toast, thanking Alicent for her dedication to her father, which surprised everyone at the table, but was well received. She and Alicent walked away from the table for a moment, talking in hushed tones, while Helaena and Jace finished their dance and returned to their seats. 

Everyone seemed to be content, and happy, almost as much as Viserys. For a short time anyway.

Then Aemond stood abruptly.

“I’d like to raise a cup to my nephews,” he said smugly. “Both of them handsome, wise…and strong .”

Jacaerys slammed his hands angrily on the table, before practically leaping from his chair, followed by Luke. 

Varaena jumped from her chair, stepping in front of them to hold them back, while Aegon did the same to his own brother.

“Jace! Pull yourself together!” She hissed at him.

“You heard what the bastard said!” 

“Yes, I heard him, but it won’t do anything for you to beat him, especially not in front of the King! You’re a grown man now, act like it!”

Jace huffed in anger, stepping back a little and crossing his arms over his chest.

By now, Daemon and Rhaenyra had come around to scold the boys, letting Varaena step away from them without having to worry about Jace launching himself at Aemond.

Aemond stood next to Aegon, who had now stepped aside as the guards moved a bit closer. He chuckled at the sight of the brothers, who didn’t resist Daemon ushering them backwards.

“Cowards,” he called after them. “Can’t even fight properly, can you? Still need your mummy to protect you?”

Varaena gritted her teeth, sucking in a sharp breath, before she turned around and marched right up to him. Drawing her arm back, she punched him hard, right in the nose. 

He stumbled back, covering his nose and groaning in pain, as blood dripped through the cracks in his fingers.

Helaena gasped, as did Alicent, while Aegon began laughing loudly, clutching his side as he wheezed from laughter.

“You…bitch,” he rasped, looking up at her with wide eyes.

“You said that to me once before, do you remember?” She sneered. “The last time I broke your nose.”

Aemond just continued to stare at her, while his brother had now fallen to the floor, still cackling.

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?”

“I dare you to try it again, bastard,” Aemond challenged as he pushed forward, getting in her face.

“Give me one more reason, and I swear to all the gods, I will make it so you can never walk again,” Varaena.

He smiled seductively down at her. “I could do the same to you, if you like.”

Varaena’s mouth dropped open slightly in disgust. In retaliation, she brought her knee up to meet his groin. A childish move, she knew, but well deserved.

He cried out in pain, falling to his knees. Aegon started laughing again, even harder this time, and she heard Jace and Luke behind her laughing as well.

“I’d rather die,” was all she said to Aemond, before she fled the room.

It took hours for her heart to stop pounding once she’d returned to her room. 

Her family took turns coming by her room. First her mother, and Daemon, who both pounded on the door, demanding to be let in, but she wouldn’t even acknowledge their presence.

Then Jacaerys, followed by Luke, who both knocked lightly, asking if she was alright. She wouldn’t open the door, but she assured them both she was fine, and that she would see them in the morning.

Even Aegon came by, but not to check on her. He pounded his fist on the door a couple times, still laughing his head off. He told her splendid job, saying it was about time someone bested his brother. She didn’t reply, but she chuckled quietly to herself, even as she heard his laughter down the hall, before it faded away.

By the time she crawled into bed, she still felt the flush in her cheeks, and the heat everywhere else. But she wasn’t sure if that was because of the anger and excitement…or something else. She hoped it wasn’t the latter.

As a child she had been hopelessly in love with Aemond, though she had refused to make it known. But after their falling out, whatever love she had for him had turned to hate. 

But now, being back here, she was questioning all of that. She still loathed him, of that she was sure, but now she wasn’t entirely sure that all the love had dried up. 

Varaena could only hope that she found a solution before it became a real problem.

Chapter Text

“Your grace, I really must apologize for everything that happened at dinner last night,” Varaena said to the Queen as they sat for tea the following morning.

Alicnet waved away her apology. “Don’t worry, my dear. I don’t blame you. I know my son has a tendency to set people on edge.”

“Even so, I should not have reacted the way I did. Is my grandfather alright?”

“He is, thank you. I think he actually rather enjoyed the melee last night. His days have been so filled with boredom, he’ll take any excitement he can.”

Varaena smiled at this, sipping on her tea as she turned her gaze toward the coast.

Alicent noticed her line of sight, and the wistful look on her face.

“You miss your home on Dragonstone, don’t you?”

“Yes, I really do. It was a beautiful sight, waking up every morning to watch the sunrise over the sea. There’s really nothing quite like it.”

“I can imagine,” Alicent agreed. “The city has its charms, at times, but on the whole is rather dreadful.”

They shared a laugh as one of the maids brought over a plate of little cakes for them to enjoy.

“Your grace, might I ask, why did you invite me to tea?”

“Whatever do you mean? Why would I not?”

“Well, it’s just-” Varaena thought over her words carefully. “May I speak freely?”

“Of course.”

“It’s only that I never really felt that you liked me as a child, given how much you seemed to detest my mother and my brothers. I know what people say about my siblings and I, I’m no fool. Am I not a reminder of all that? As well as being a reminder that my mother is heir, not your son?”

Alicent seemed to consider what she said, taking a few moments before she answered.

“Whatever you may think, or whatever your mother has said, I do not hold her transgressions against you, or your brothers. Do I approve of how you came to be? No, I don’t, and I haven’t hidden that fact. But it’s not your fault, and I apologize if I’ve ever treated you harshly because of it.”

Alicent stood, walking over to the stone wall of the terrace, overlooking the gardens. She beckoned Varaena to come stand by her, which she did with little hesitation.

“It’s true that I struggle with the issue of succession, but there’s nothing I can do about that, short of murdering your mother, which I promise I would never. I’d much rather find a more peaceful way to resolve this, even though your mother and I may never be friends again. I’m afraid she still won't forgive me for marrying Viserys.”

“If I may, can you blame her? You were her best friend, and I can only speak from my own opinion, but if my best friend were to marry my father, I might have much the same issue.”

Rather than Alicent being angry at her, she seemed more amused, even going so far as to chuckle lightly at her words. 

“Has your mother ever told you you’re quite forward?”

Varaena blushed. “Yes, she’s mentioned it a few times…along with other people.”

“It’s actually quite refreshing to know someone unafraid to speak their mind. Although, I wouldn’t expect any less from a child of Rhaenyra.”

They were silent for a moment, before Alicent brought up the party she had mentioned last night, a celebration for her nameday.

“Have you any idea of who in particular you might like to attend the ball?” She asked.

“Not really, no. I don’t know anyone outside of my own house very well, except for the Velaryons. Honestly, just the thought of a party at all is enough to make me happy.”

Alicent’s eyes took on a sad look. “I’m glad to hear that. It’s unfortunate that you’ve never had a party to celebrate. I felt certain we’d done one or two while you still lived here.”

“Not in years, your grace. I’m sure we must have done when I was still a small child, but I don’t remember having any from my sixth nameday onward.”

“Such a shame. A girl like you should be celebrated,” Alicent reached up to brush some of Varaena’s hair off her shoulder, the way her own mother used to do when she was young. 

It was such a harmless gesture, and yet, it meant everything to Varaena. This entire interaction meant the world to her. To have someone ask how she felt, to listen as she spoke, to ask her opinion on things. 

It felt good to be seen and heard, to not be just another wallflower in her family.

“Tell me, have your parents talked to you at all about any possible suitors?”

“A bit, but only insofar as to tell me a few names they’ve considered, but it’s never been a serious thing.”

That was a lie. It was all her parents talked about these days, who would be the best alliance, but she wasn’t sure that was something she should tell the Queen.

She wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of marriage to a man she had barely, or perhaps never, met. She had always hoped for a love match, but knowing her position, and her parents, that was likely an impossibility. 

While she was sure that her brothers’ engagements had been political, they at least had the advantage of being already smitten with Bhaela and Rhaena. She had no doubt that it would have happened eventually, whether by their own efforts, or their mother’s. 

For her part, her mother had suggested Qoren Martell, or perhaps one of the Tyrells. A number of names had been dropped by both her mother and Daemon, but the only one they seemed to truly consider was the Dornish King. 

Varaena had heard that he was at least thirteen years older than her, and though a good man, he was still in love with his late lamented wife. She couldn’t blame him for that.

“That simply won’t do,” Alicent tutted. “This will be your seventeenth nameday, you should have been betrothed years ago. But don’t fret, we’ll find some possible suitors for you at your ball.”

Varaena smiled with tight lips, not wishing to upset the Queen with her reluctance.

“Your grace,” a timid voice spoke from behind them.

They both turned to see one of the maids standing in the doorway. She curtsied quickly to the Queen before saying, “The King has requested your presence, your grace.”

“Thank you, Mirella.” She turned back to Varaena. “I’m afraid I must leave you, my dear. But we’ll chat more soon about the plans for your nameday.”

Alicent gave Varaena a kiss on her cheek, and a quick embrace, before hurrying off to the King’s chambers, leaving Varaena all alone.

Unsure what to do, she decided to go down to the training yard, where she was sure her brothers would be. She was sure Aemond would be there too, but she hoped it might give her another chance to bring him to his knees.

It had been so long since she’d been here, she had actually forgotten the way to the training yard, and was forced to ask for directions. 

“Varaena!” 

She turned around to see who had called her name, and saw Aegon approaching with a glass of wine in his hand.

“Good morrow, Aegon. Isn’t it a bit early in the day for that?” She motioned to the wine.

Aegon scoffed. “It’s never too early for a good cup of wine. Where are you headed?”

“To the training yard. I’ve just finished tea with your mother, and thought I’d see what trouble my brothers are getting themselves into.”

“I’m sure my mother had a lot to talk about,” he said with a snort.

“She did, actually. It was rather pleasant, truth be told.”

“That’s surprising. I’d have thought she’d try to weasel any information about my sister out of you.”

“Well she didn’t, thank the gods. I don’t think I could handle that kind of pressure.”

“Mind if I join you? In the training yard, that is?”

“Not a bit,” she shook her head in agreement. 

They descended the steps down to the training yard, the sounds of heavy grunts and shouts reaching their ears before they’d even passed through the door.

A multitude of carts with different types of weapons lined the walls, while a few guards currently sparred in the ring.

Ser Criston Cole paced around the outside of the ring, watching the men and critiquing where necessary. Her brothers watched as well, though they both held swords in their hands, leading her to believe they were waiting their turn.

And there, in the corner of the yard, looking as moody as usual, was Aemond.

His sword still strapped to his side, he watched with a bored interest as the men attacked each other, clearly unimpressed with their fighting style. 

She and Aegon moved closer to the ring, at which point they were noticed by everyone present in the yard.

Ser Criston did nothing to hide his obvious disgust, his lip curling into a sneer as his eyes met hers, before he returned his attention to the men currently in the ring, both of whom had stumbled once they realized she was there.

“Come to watch us practice, eh, sister?” Jacaerys said as he and Lucerys approached her.

“No, I’ve come to watch you both fall on your asses over and over,” she joked.

Jace pushed her lightly. “The only one who’s going to fall down is Luke.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, brother.”

“Would you like to join us?” Luke asked, gesturing to the ring. “I’m sure we could find some trousers for you, if you like.

“Thank you, but I’m content as a spectator for now,” she smiled at him, taking his hand in her own.

“What, you know how to handle a sword?” Aegon laughed.

“Yes, I do. Is that so surprising?”

“You know, I’m honestly not sure. I’m a little surprised that my sister would let her daughter train with her sons.”

“Oh she didn’t. In fact, she probably has no idea. I used to sneak down to the training yard on Dragonstone every day, until the instructor finally caved under mine and my brothers’ begging, and trained me as well. I suppose he might have told her, but she’s said nothing to me.”

“Look at you, the little rebel,” Aegon winked at her.

“I do my best,” she chuckled.

“Uh oh,” Aegon tutted, “here comes trouble.”

Varaena followed his line of sight and saw Aemond strutting over to them, a hard look on his face.

“Seven Hells,” she grumbled, taking the goblet of win from Aegon’s hand and ignoring his protest as she downed the last of it.

“What are you doing down here?” Aemond called.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She replied. “I’m watching.”

“You shouldn’t be here. This is no place for a lady.”

“Oh, I’m a lady, now, am I? Last night I was a bastard. You just can’t seem to make up your mind, can you?”

“You’re still a bastard,” he sneered, ignoring the protective stances her brothers had taken. “But my mother would kill me if she knew you were down here.”

“Do you really think so?” Varaena said excitedly, causing Aegon to snort.

Aemond glared at his brother, which only made him laugh harder.

“Just go back inside, now,” he demanded.

“I will do no such thing. And if you keep ordering me about, I’ll get in that ring myself, and then we’ll see just how talented you really are.”

“I don’t fight girls,” was all he said.

“Why? You afraid I might win?” She smirked.

A muscle ticked in his jaw as he clenched it tight. For a moment he didn’t say anything, then, he laughed darkly, and turned around without another word.

Jace and Luke relaxed a bit as soon as he got far enough away, but they still refused to leave her side until it was their turn to get in the ring.

She stayed in the training yard the entire time, refusing to leave until her brothers did.

And he watched her. 

His eye never once left her, not even to watch her brothers fight. 

She did her best to ignore him, refusing to meet his gaze, even when she could feel it practically burning into her skin.

Aegon leaned into her and whispered, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen my brother get as riled up as he does when he’s around you.”

“Yes, well, I tend to have that effect on people. Or at least, so I’m told.”

“No, I don’t think that’s it.”

He was quiet for another moment. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened between the two of you?”

She was taken aback by his question. “He never told you?”

“No, surprisingly, my brother doesn’t confide in me.”

“I would’ve thought he’d at least tell you about this.”

“Well he didn’t,” Aegon pressed. “So, will you?”

“What would be the point? It was just never meant to be for us, I suppose.

A sadness seemed to overtake her for a moment, which did not go unnoticed by Aegon, nor Aemond for that matter, making him wonder what his brother and niece were discussing to make her seem so sad suddenly.

He tried to remind himself that he didn’t care, that he hated her, that it served her right to be sad. 

But he still wondered.

And it left Aegon even more curious as to what exactly had gone down between them. 

But he would be left wondering for a long time.

Chapter Text

Aemond’s POV

Aemond thought he’d been mistaken when he’d heard his mother say that Rhaenyra and her family would be coming back to King’s Landing.

He couldn’t believe his ears. He thought there was no way in the Seven Hells that she would come back, let alone be within one hundred miles of him.

He had paced around his chambers the entire night leading up to their arrival, unable to calm himself. He had hoped to see them arrive, from a safe distance of course, but he had gotten caught up with his grandfather, the Hand.

Because of that, he didn’t see her till the moment the doors to the throne room opened, and she walked in on the arm of the King.

He swore his heart stopped beating altogether the moment he laid eyes on her.

She had never been unattractive, as children he would have called her cute. But now…she could start a war.

Seeing her standing on the right side of the King, as though she belonged there, with her chin high, and the poise and grace of a Queen, he could almost forget she was a bastard.

And that same night, when she walked into dinner, wearing that damned gown, her long hair ghosting across the soft skin of her shoulders, it took every bit of self control to not take her right then and there.

He hated himself. 

He hated that he thought about her every day after Driftmark.

He hated that he looked for her every time he turned a corner.

He hated the jealousy he had felt when he heard his brother suggest a midnight rendezvous. 

He hated the way his heart beat harder than ever whenever he was in her presence, how his blood rushed to his face, among other places.

But most of all, he hated how much he wanted her, in ways he shouldn’t want a bastard like her. 

A bastard who had broken him beyond repair.

A bastard who, at the end of the day, was just a girl. 

A girl who had plagued him his entire life. 

A girl who had once been his best friend, though he had been loath to admit it both then and now.

A girl who would never want him the way he wanted her.

Chapter Text

“Are you excited for the ball tomorrow, sister?” Lucerys asked as the family sat together.

Varaena grinned. “Very much so, which is surprising, because I was never one for balls before.”

“Might I claim the first dance?” Jace chimed in from across the table.

“If I dance with you first, I might not be able to dance at all for the rest of the evening,” she snorted. “You’re liable to step on every single one of my toes.”

“I’m a magnificent dancer, thank you very much. As you well know, since we took our dance lessons together .”

“Just because we had the same teacher does not account for actual talent.”

Jacaerys rolled his eyes at her, returning his attention to the toast he’d been buttering, but not before smacking his laughing brother upside the head.

“I don’t like this,” Rhaenyra grumbled.

“What do you mean, mother?” Varaena asked.

“What reasoning could Alicent have to throw you a ball? It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Perhaps the fact that it’s my nameday? Is there something wrong with having a party to celebrate?”

“That’s not what your mother is saying, Varaena,” Daemon answered. “Merely that it’s suspicious for Alicent to take such an interest in you, so suddenly. First the tea, and now this. It reeks of some hidden conspiracy.”

“Maybe I should speak to my father, ask him to call it off,” Rhaenyra suggested, speaking more to Daemon than anyone else.

Varaena looked back and forth between the two of them, disbelief and hurt written all over her face. She stood up from the table, her chair scraping loudly against the stone floor.

“Where are you going?” Daemon demanded just as she yanked the door open.

She didn’t even bother to look back at him.

“Anywhere but here!” She snapped, the door slamming loudly behind her. 

She stood a moment in the hallway, clenching and unclenching her fists, taking a deep breath as she screamed internally. 

“Going somewhere?”

Varaena looked to her right to see Aemond walking down the hall, towards her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned in disgust.

Varaena turned and began walking the other way, but she wasn’t quick enough to escape.

“Just like you to be sneaking off somewhere, like a thief in the night,” he accused, sidling up next to her. 

“Aemond, I’m really not in the mood for your shit right now.”

“Does it look like I care?”

She scoffed. “I know it’s hard for you to imagine, but there are other people in the world besides you. And most of them don’t fantasize about getting the chance to be alone with you. So, please, just shut up, and leave me alone.”

“I bet you’re enjoying all the attention you’re getting,” he continued, ignoring her completely. “Just the kind of thing to feed your ego.

“ My ego? If you want to talk about ego, then how about we talk about your dragon? You know, the one that could probably level the entire fucking city if she wanted to.”

Aemond glared at her, his back stiffening and his hand going instinctively to his side where his sword is usually strapped. Luckily for her, he had yet to put it on.

“You know as well as I that it’s the dragon who chooses the rider, not the other way around. Is that not why you still don’t have a dragon, after all these years?”

For he, of all people, to use that against her was like a knife to the heart. Again.

“Maybe it is, I don’t know, but at least I’m not the one who went after the largest dragon I possibly could just for kicks! And not only that, but choosing the dragon who belonged to a woman that had just died, and only mere hours after her funeral!”

Her voice echoed down the empty hall, and she could see the few guards there looking at her out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t care.

“Why? Why did you have to be so callous? Was it just a big ‘fuck you’ to everyone? Do you truly care so little for others?”

“Why should I care about them? They never gave a damn about me!” He growled.

“ I did! ” She screamed at him. “ I gave a damn, I cared about you! I gave you my time, I gave you my trust, I gave you pieces of myself, and you spat it all back in my face!”

Aemond’s face ran wild with a hundred different emotions, but all she could feel was anger.

“You know what, I-I don’t…I don’t need this right now. Just…leave me alone. Or better yet, go pitch yourself off one of the towers. You always said you’d do that if you had to be stuck in my presence, didn’t you?”

She looked at him in disgust, shaking her head as she turned and walked away.

Aemond stood there until long after she’d left, still trying to process what she’d said. 

He had sworn to hate her, and he still did. But there was a tiny crack in the wall he’d built around his heart, and try as he might, he couldn’t seem to repair it.

The morning of the party the castle was all abuzz, servants rushing to and fro, trying to accomplish all the tasks given to them before it was too late.

The Keep had been decorated with dozens upon dozens of flowers, filling every room with the sweetest scent, and banners bearing the Targaryen crest hanging around every corner.

Tables were laid in the throne room with black and red tablecloths, and every couple of inches there were solid gold trays laden with the most decadent food. 

Members of every house in the Seven Kingdoms had been invited, and many were set to arrive at any moment.

Varaena wandered the halls, watching the servants bustle about and whisper in excitement. She herself was hardly able to control her own excitement, her heart pounding as she made her way back to her chambers to get ready.

Her maids had already drawn her a bath, adding in dried lavender and rose petals. A sigh of contentment escaped her lips as she sank into the warm water, easing her aching muscles, the steam relaxing her tired mind.

She prayed to the gods that the night would go well. That her mother wouldn’t fight with the Queen, that Daemon would leave his sword behind, that maybe she would get to dance with someone she actually liked. 

When she finished her bath, she went to get dressed, but couldn’t find the gown she’d chosen anywhere. That’s when she saw the box waiting for her on her bed, with a card laying on top.

“ For the fiercest dragon, ” the card read, with no signature.

She postulated who it could be from, but the moment she took the lid off the box, she stopped caring.

It was one of the most beautiful gowns she had ever seen in her life.

Made of the softest silk, with an outer layer of gossamer, it was a beautiful, ebony black, sparkling as the light hit it. Towards the bottom of the dress, the color shifted from black, fading into a dark red in a sort of ombre design, with swirls of burnt umber dancing along the bottom edge, like flames. 

The bodice of the gown hugged her chest tightly, while the neckline fell just above her breasts, showing off her soft skin, and the ruby necklace Viserys had gifted her, telling her it had once belonged to his beloved Aemma. 

The bell sleeves, too, were made of shimmery, black gossamer, hanging so low they brushed the ground, with a slit running up each one that opened wide whenever she lifted her arms. 

Her hair was again done in a half up half down style, with strands being braided and curled around into a bun at the back of her head, then stuck with rubies,  and thin strands of hair being loosely braided and left to hang with the rest of her soft waves. 

She almost didn’t recognize herself when she looked in the mirror. When last she’d been here, she’d still only been a child, and now she was a woman grown. 

She knew that the Queen was keeping an eye out for potential suitors, so tonight was the night to impress. Tonight was the night to leave them all in awe of her, to leave them wanting more.

Perhaps then her mother would be proud.

A knock on the door drew her attention away from her reflection.

“Come in,” she called.

The door opened, revealing Jacaerys, looking rather dashing in his black tunic and trousers, with intricate red stitching around his collar and hem. He looked at her, and stopped dead in his tracks.

“So, tell me honestly, what do you think?” She asked, turning around to look at him.

When she saw his face, with his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide, her heart dropped a little.

“I look ridiculous, don’t I? It’s too much, I should just change.”

She started to move back to her bedchamber to change her dress, but Jace grabbed her hand, preventing her from leaving.

“No! You look…” He eyed her up and down again. “You look beautiful, Varaena. Truly. I’m just not used to seeing you so dressed up, that’s all.”

She laughed lightly. “Well, when the only people I have to dress up for are my brothers, I don’t really see the point.”

“Oh, I’m so offended,” he placed a hand over his heart.

“Please, I could you the most disgusting insult and you would just laugh. You never get offended.”

“I do, but only when it counts,” he winked at her. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” she sighed.

He offered his arm to her, which she took gratefully, glad to have someone to lean on, and that someone was her brother.

Varaena could hear the music and the loud chatter all the way up in her chambers, getting louder and louder as she neared the throne room. The doors were wide open as people filed in and out, laughing and mingling about, the ones standing in the hall bowed and curtsied as she and Jace passed.

They paused just before entering, waiting for the guard to announce them.

“Her Royal Highness, Princess Varaena Velaryon, First of Her Name, Firstborn of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, and Second Heir to the Iron Throne. His Royal Highness, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, First of His Name, Secondborn of Princess Rhaenyra Targeryen, Heir to Driftmark.”

The voices hushed and the music halted as they walked in. Her eyes searched the room for familiar faces, and soon enough she spotted her mother, Daemon, and Lucerys standing at the bottom of the steps to the throne. While her mother and Daemon looked stony-faced as she entered, her brother looked at her with awe and pride.

She winked at him as she descended the steps, and then she noticed the throne, where sat her grandfather. He, too, looked at her with pride and love, which made her heart clench.

Standing across from her family were Alicent, Aegon, and Helaena. Aemond was nowhere to be seen, thank the gods. Alicent gave her an encouraging smile, before beckoning her over. 

Varaena kissed her brother on the cheek, then bid him to return to Bhaela, while she glided over to the Queen.

The music resumed, as did the chatter, while the dance floor filled with couples who had been waiting for the princess to arrive.

“You look beautiful, my dear,” Alicent said as she pulled Varaena into a tight hug. 

“Thank you, your grace,” She replied, noticing her mother’s glare out of the corner of her eye.

“Where on earth did you get that dress? It’s absolutely stunning on you.”

“Oh,” Varaena furrowed her brow in confusion, “I assumed it was a gift from you. It was left on my bed, and there was no name on the note.”

“I’m afraid not, my dear, though I wish it was. Now, be sure to say hello to your grandfather, he’s very excited to see you.”

Varaena started up the steps to where Viserys sat on the throne, Otto Hightower standing next to him.

“Sweet girl,” he rasped as he attempted to stand.

“Please, don’t get up, grandfather,” she stopped him from getting up.

“You…look beautiful. Just like your grandmother.”

She planted a kiss on his cheek, wrapping her arms briefly around his neck before she pulled back to study him. 

He looked exhausted, but not from lack of sleep. His remaining eye had the look of someone who was waiting to die, even while he plastered on a smile.

“Are you alright, grandfather?” she asked softly.

“Of course my dear. Just tired, like always. Now, leave the old man to wallow in his self pity. Go, enjoy yourself.”

Varaena smiled and kissed him again, then turned to leave.

“My Lord Hand,” she nodded her head to Otto, doing her best to hide her disgust.

The moment she descended the steps, she was accosted by one of the Lannisters, though they bred like rabbits so she wasn’t sure what his name was, only that he looked to be about thirteen years old.

“Princess, you look stunning,” he smiled at her, and she noticed he had at least two gold teeth, and his eyes seemed to focus solely on her chest.

“Thank you, my lord,” she cringed a little.

“Any man should be lucky to have you. I’ve been told that you are looking for a potential suitor tonight, is that correct?”

Varaena was taken aback, not quite sure what to say so she remained silent.

“If that is indeed the case, I hope that my name might be considered. I’m sure we would make quite the pair, especially when the day comes that you inherit the throne, and I am named King beside you.”

Varaena narrowed her eyes. “I believe your title would be King Consort , actually.”

This seemed to put him off slightly. “Well, nevertheless, we’ll rule the Seven Kingdoms together, will we not.”

“Perhaps. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I-”

“Might I request the pleasure of the first dance?”

“I apologize, my lord, but I’m afraid I’ve already promised my first two dances. If you’ll excuse me.”

She hurried away before he could say anything further, looking for someone to partner up with when the second dance began later. Suddenly, an arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back a few steps.

“Leaving so soon?” Aegon snickered.

“Unfortunately for you, no, I’m trying to find someone who will dance the second set with me later. I’ve promised the first one to Jace, but one of the innumerable Lannisters asked for my hand, and I told him the first two were taken already.”

“What’s wrong with the Lannister boy?”

“Besides the fact that he’s just a child?” She glanced over at him.

Aegon followed her line of sight. “Ah, yes, I see what you mean.”

“Please tell me that you’re able to dance with me, please do not throw me to the wolves.”

“Very well, but you’ll owe me,” he wagged his finger mockingly.

“Thank you, so much,” she kissed him hastily on the cheek before rushing off to find her brother and begin the first dance.

He took her hand ever so graciously, and led her onto the floor. The crowd parted to let them pass, taking their place in the middle of the dance floor. The music began, and off they went, while Varaena watched the people around them, eyeing her, whispering to each other.

“They’re sizing me up, Jace,” she told him. 

“Who is?”

“Them. All of them. They’re wondering how much I’m worth, what they could get out of an alliance with me and our family. To them, I’m not a person. I’m just a prize.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. They’re just curious, that’s all,” he reassured her.

“Jace, I just had a thirteen year old boy talk about the possibility of marrying me, of being named King. And when I pointed out that since I am heir to the throne, he’ll only be a consort, he brushed that aside. Also, his eyes would not leave my chest, so I’m thinking that it’s even worse than someone trying to get close to the crown.”

“Which one was it?” Jace asked, practically fuming. “I’ll beat the little fucker.”

“Please don’t, I’d rather not have a fight break out tonight of all nights.”

“What’s a good party without a little bloodshed?”

Varaena rolled her eyes as he spun her around. Just as she turned, her eyes caught Aemond’s, his stare cold and unrelenting, his mouth set into a thin line. His eye roved over every part of her, taking her in. She felt a shiver roll down her spine as the blood rushed to her cheeks. She quickly averted her gaze, returning her focus to her steps. 

The dance ended, and Jacaerys’ place was taken by Aegon, who danced with more grace than her brother, though he tended to be a bit more dramatic. He teased her the whole time, making her laugh till her sides ached, and again, she caught her mother glaring at her out of the corner of her eye. 

Rhaenyra said something angrily to Daemon, who responded in kind. Varaena couldn’t tell if they were arguing, or were angry about the same thing, but she had a feeling it was the latter, and she was also sure that the thing they were angry at was her.

Once again, the dance ended all too soon, and she was left without a partner. She milled about the party, making small talk with different lords and ladies, each of whom seemed eager to make her acquaintance, but the experience was marred by her fear of their underlying motives.

Soon, she found herself trapped in a conversation with yet another Lannister, who thought it an appropriate time to discuss the great wealth and many accomplishments of his house. He was deep in the middle of an explanation of how Casterly Rock came to be in the possession of the Lannisters, when she heard someone clear their throat behind her.

She turned around to find herself facing a tall, dark, and ruggedly handsome man, with a thick beard, and chocolate brown hair that brushed against his shoulders.

“Your highness,” he spoke with a thick Northern accent, “my name is Cregan Stark. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He bowed low as she too curtsied, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Lord Stark, an honor,” she replied with a smile.

“Might I request a dance?”

“Indeed you may.”

She tried not to look too relieved as she turned to make her apologies to the Lannister, who looked entirely offended at the interruption, and stalked off to complain to whoever would listen.

“You looked like you needed saving,” Lord Stark pointed out as he led her to the dance floor, placing his arm around her waist.

“Thank you for that. If he kept talking, I might have actually fallen asleep,” she laughed.

“Those golden fuckers have a tendency to ramble about the most boring shit.”

She blinked up at him, clearly surprised by his language.

“My apologies, your highness, I shouldn’t use such language in your presence.”

“Not at all my lord, you are entirely right. He really is a golden fucker,” she replied with a straight face.

Lord Stark laughed, a deep belly laugh that warmed her all the way to her toes.

“I can assure you, Lord Stark,” she continued, “I will be the last person to complain about crass language. In fact, I might be the first to actually use it. I was only surprised because most people do try not to like that in front of me. But I appreciate your candor.”

“I’ll continue to do so, if it pleases you, your highness,” he smirked. “And please, call me Cregan.”

“Very well, Cregan, if you will call me Varaena.”

They danced in silence for a moment, before it was broken by Cregan.

“So, Varaena, are you enjoying your celebration? I can’t say I’ve seen such splendor, even for the Princes.”

“Yes, it’s beautifully done,” she replied as she looked about the room. “A bit too much for my tastes, but it’s the thought that counts, I suppose.”

Varaena looked back at him. “I am enjoying myself, thank you. Or at least, I’m trying to. The trouble is, I hardly know anyone here. And practically everyone is either trying to buy my favor, in hopes that it’ll get them closer to the throne, or is simply trying to find a way into my bed.”

Cregan snorted. “Exactly why I rarely come to these things. Fucking vultures, every last one of them.”

“Then why are you here? If you hate them so much.”

“To tell you the truth, I was curious about you. Not much information reaches us in the North, and even less about a girl who’s been living on an island for the last six years. I figured I should come and see you for myself. Get the measure of you while I can.”

“Why? Are you planning to marry me, too?” Her heart dropped a little. She’d been hoping he was different.

“Fuck no,” he laughed. “That’s not to say I wouldn’t be honored, I truly would. But seeing as we only just met, and I hardly know you, I don’t think it would be a good idea. Unless you’re asking, of course.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, making her giggle at the insinuation.

“Since you’ll one day sit the Iron Throne after your mother,” he explained, “I thought it best to come and see what kind of person you are now, to understand what kind of ruler you’ll be one day.”

“And? What have you learned so far?”

He studied her face for a moment, thinking over his words carefully. She felt a blush rising to her cheeks under his watchful gaze, and butterflies seemed to be fluttering about her stomach.

“I’ve learned that you are kind, and compassionate, as evidenced by your interaction with the King. You are also very smart for working the room and introducing yourself to everyone, so they can have a chance to speak to you before someone else talks about you to them. Helps them do the same thing I’m doing. You’re very tolerant, too, given how you stood there and listened to that little shit drone on and on about meaningless shit with a smile on your face. That’s very important, since you’ll have people coming to you with the most trivial things at all times.

Varaena felt her heart lifting a bit. “What else?”

“I greatly appreciate your honesty, too. You’re not afraid to tell it how it is, despite what others may think of you. You’re not afraid to speak up, though many might look down on you for it because you’re a woman.”

“If I can’t speak up for myself now, I have no business being Queen in the future.”

“I whole-heartedly agree. And for what it’s worth, from what I’ve seen and heard tonight, I think you’ll make a great Queen one day.”

Varaena looked at him with great appreciation, feeling quite honored by his faith in her.

“So, tell me Cregan,” she asked as he led her off to the side of the room, the dance having now ended, “what’s it like in the North? Is it truly as cold as people say?”

“Even colder. I’ve heard of men literally having their balls freeze off after standing outside too long without proper clothing.”

She giggled at this. “A pity, I’m sure. Though I suppose if you live in the North and are still foolish enough to venture outside without taking precautions, you deserve to have your balls freeze off.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled. “It is breathtaking, though. Especially when it snows.”

“Oh, snow! I’ve always wanted to see snow!”

“You must come north sometime then, see it for yourself.”

“I would love that very much,” she agreed.

“Lord Stark!” someone called from across the room.

Cregan looked over to see who had called his name, and, seeing that he was needed, turned to apologize to Varaena.

“Excuse me for one moment, Princess. I’ll be right back, I swear.”

“Please, take your time,” she said graciously.

He grinned at her before weaving his way through the crowd to the opposite side of the room, leaving her all alone. But not for long.

“I see you and Lord Stark have hit it off,” Aemond grumbled as he stepped up beside her.

She turned her head to eye him with distaste. “So what? Do you have some sort of issue with that?”

“Not at all. Though I’m sure he could do better.”

“Of course you would say that. I’m sure in your mind, anyone would be better than me.”

Aemond glanced at her, before returning to his study of the throng of people surrounding them.

“You can’t seriously be thinking of marrying one of these fools,” he scoffed.

“So what if I am?” She huffed as she turned to face him fully. “Why does it matter to you?”

“It doesn’t, I’m just saying that you could do better.”

“Really? A moment ago, you were telling me Lord Stark could do better than myself, and now you’re telling me I can do better than anyone here?”

“Except for Lord Stark perhaps,” he snorted.

“I don’t understand you, Aemond. You say you hate me, and yet here you are, expressing an interest in my future husband, and telling me I can do better. Honestly, just make up your mind.”

They stood in silence for a moment, before Aemond suddenly extended his hand.

“Would you dance with me, niece?”

She looked at his hand, then back to him. “Are you being serious?”

“Unfortunately so. I hate dancing just as much as the next person, but I foolishly promised my mother I would dance with you at least once.”

“Oh boohoo, poor you,” she mockingly pouted as she took his hand.

He led her reluctantly back to the dance floor, grimacing as he pulled her closer in. She could feel him trying not to breathe, his whole body stiff and uncomfortable at the entire situation.

“Your mother must really hate you, to make you dance with me,” she laughed at him.

“It would appear so,” was his clipped response.

“What are you doing, Aemond?” She asked after a brief pause.

“I think I’m dancing. What are you doing?”

“No, I mean…why are you asking me questions about my future? Why would you promise to dance with me, when we both know you hate me? Why are you pretending to care?”

“Who says I’m pretending?”

“Aemond,” she said flatly. “You haven’t cared about me since we were eleven years old, if you ever did at all. You have told me on multiple occasions that you’d rather die than be stuck with me. Tell me, does that sound like someone who cares?”

“Just because I care doesn’t mean I want to get saddled with you. Who in their right mind would want to be stuck with you for the rest of their life?”

She glared at him. “You’re such an ass, Aemond.”

“You know, I’m really starting to like the way you say my name. Really turns me on,” he winked at her.

“Ugh, I think I might vomit,” she gagged. 

“You’re so dramatic. Always have been, it’s one of your biggest faults.”

“And you’re despicable, except while I can get past being dramatic, you’ll still be despicable.”

“Lord Stark is watching you rather intently,” he changed the subject, nodding his head to where Cregan Stark stood. “I think he might fancy you.”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“I think I should warn him what he’s getting himself into, should he choose to pursue this. He might like to know he’s getting into bed with a bastard.”

“He’s not getting into bed with me, no one is getting into bed with me,” she fumed, choosing to ignore his repeated use of the word bastard.

“Shame. You could do with a good fuck. Might loosen you up a bit.”

His eye was on her, watching her go from pale to beet red in a matter of seconds. The wide smirk on his face told her he was enjoying this, but she was beginning to lose control over her anger.

“You disgust me. You are such a fucking pig.”

“Perhaps Lord Stark would be willing to oblige, since you seem to like him.”

“Lord Stark is a good man,” she argued. “Unlike you.”

“Good in bed, I’m sure,” he continued, relentless in his attempt to rile her up. “Tell me, should I inform your maids that you’ll be in your own chambers tonight, or should they expect to find you with your legs spread wide in Lord Stark’s bed?”

She didn’t even hesitate this time. Her hand flew up and smacked him hard across the cheek, leaving a blood red handprint on his face.

The sound of the slap rang out through the hall as the music quieted down, drawing the attention of almost everyone in the room, including her family, and, unfortunately, Lord Stark. 

“Fuck you, Aemond Targaryen,” she whispered, her voice cracking as hot tears pricked at her eyes.

She whipped around, her hair hitting him in the face as she sped out of the room, ignoring the stares of others. 

When she reached her chambers, she asked the guards to inform anyone who came by, except her maids, that she wished to be left alone, and to not let them in.

Once inside, she saw that her maids had set out another hot bath for her, so she quickly stripped her clothes and climbed in.

She sat in there for hours, long after the water had gone cold, crying to herself. 

She hated herself for letting him get to her, for letting him affect her this way. She couldn’t even explain why he did. One would think that by hating him, she wouldn’t give a damn what he thought of her. But instead, she seemed to care about his opinion the most. 

She had dressed up for him.

She hadn’t even realized it till after she’d returned to her chambers, but she had done all of that for him. And she hated that too.

And when Aemond came by her chambers to apologize, but was denied access, he simply listened in at the door. And when he heard her crying, he hated himself even more than he had before.

He couldn’t explain why he did what he did. 

He had seen the way she and Lord Stark had been talking. The smile on her face, the look in his eyes, the proximity of their bodies, and he’d been filled with a jealousy that overtook him. 

But now, he’d hurt her, yet again. 

He tried to take himself back to that night on Driftmark, to revive his anger so he wouldn’t care so much, but it did him no good. 

He’d forgiven her for it long ago. He’d forgiven her for everything she ever said, or did, or ever would say, or do.

He always would.

Chapter Text

Many of the guests from the ball stayed only another day or two, before they returned to their own lands. Varaena was happy to see them go, in all honesty. But there was one person who stayed for an entire week, because he just wasn’t ready to leave her.

Lord Cregan Stark spent as much time as he possibly could with the princess in the days that followed the celebration, taking her for walks around the gardens, or horseback riding through the hills. Sometimes they would just wander the halls of the Keep, or watch her brothers training. 

It was little wonder that word soon spread throughout the castle and the city that a betrothal was on the horizon. The only remaining question was how long it would take for the two families to come to an agreement.

But the rumors didn’t stop there. Some people had taken to gossiping that Varaena was seen sneaking out of the young lord’s chambers every morning, looking rather disheveled, and the most daring of people claimed that if you listened closely at the door, moans of pleasure could be heard, even through the thick wood.

“I bet she screams when she comes,” one lecherous fool said as he downed his ale inside a brothel.

Strangely, each time a new rumor popped up, the person who began was found the next day with their tongue cut out. It didn’t do anything to stop it from spreading, but it warned others to not start anymore, though no one could figure out who the mysterious assailant was, or how he knew who exactly to target.

Varaena did her best to ignore the rumors, but they seemed to haunt her every step. Servants gave her strange looks even as they bowed to her when she passed, some of the guards tended to look her up and down, as if there were some sort of outward sign saying whether or not she remained a virgin.

It didn’t help that once the rumors began, her mother and Daemon questioned her thoroughly, and declared that she was not to be alone with Lord Stark for any reason. And so, a guard was assigned to chaperone them wherever they went, which only seemed to fuel the flames. 

Varaena didn’t care what complete strangers thought of her, but it broke her heart that her own mother couldn’t, or rather wouldn’t, trust her when she swore on all the gods that she had not slept with Lord Stark. 

Her restless nights had returned in full force, only now, more and more of her waking hours were spent crying to herself, wishing she had been granted a different life. She practically begged any god that would listen that she could find some way to escape. But it wasn’t meant to be.

Her mother was due to give birth any day, and, rather than have her child be born in the Red Keep, the family returned to Dragonstone, not long before Lord Stark returned to Winterfell.

“I’m sorry we weren’t able to spend more time together, Lord Stark. I’ve truly enjoyed your company this last week,” she said with a smile as he took her hand in his own.

“Perhaps I can rectify that,” he replied with a smirk. “I’ve always wanted to see the legendary Dragonstone, and, as you’ve already stated, you’ve always wished to see the North. I’m sure we can arrange that.”

Her smile widened at his words, and a blush rose to her cheeks when he bent down to kiss her hand goodbye.

She still felt his lips against her skin even hours later while they were sailing away.

“What did Aemond say to you before we left?” Jacaerys came up beside her as she leaned against the railing, interrupting her daydream with a nightmare.

Her mind wandered back to the courtyard, as everyone was saying their goodbyes. Alicent had kissed her on the cheek, expressing a hope to see her again, as did Helaena. Her aunt, however, had more to say than the Queen.

“The lone ship will return, and be lonely no more,” Helaena had whispered in her ear. “The sapphire will fall, and turn black in the end.”

“Helaena? Are you alright?” Varaena hadn’t known what to make of her aunt’s mysterious words.

But Helaena only shook her head, and hugged her tighter.

Aegon had hugged her tightly, whispering some shit about not having someone to fuck with his brother anymore, to which she said that she was always a raven away.

And by some miracle, the King had even made it down the stairs to say goodbye to each of them. When she’d leaned down to kiss him goodbye, he’d whispered in her ear, “Your grandmother was not a rider, but she was still the fiercest dragon amongst us. You are just like her.”

But it was Aemond who had left her rattled.

She had not expected to see him, thinking that he’d be lurking in some forgotten part of the Keep, away from prying eyes. But, instead, he had journeyed down to the courtyard, standing back away from the rest of them, until Varaena had spoken to everyone else.

His single good eye had watched her every movement, from the way her dress brushed against the ground, to the movements of her fingers as she’d held his brother’s hand. Her smile could light up an entire room, and yet he could tell that it didn’t reach her eyes.

Those damned eyes. 

They met his as she’d approached him slowly, violet, with a ring of sapphire around the edges. 

They seemed to pierce his very soul, looking up at him with such emotion, such pain. 

“I suppose this is goodbye,” she’d said to him, her chin held high in indifference. “I do hope this is the end for us.”

Aemond had looked down at her, his stoic face breaking only briefly into a smirk as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, dear niece,” he’d growled, just loud enough for her to hear. “I’m not done with you yet.”

When he’d leaned back, the fiery look in his eye had made her skin feel hot, and her heart raced. She had been quick to return to the carriage, looking back only once to see that he was still watching her, his gaze having turned slightly possessive, which left her confused, but more curious than anything else even hours after. 

She was desperate to know what he meant by those words. He had droned on, for years, about not wanting to spend a moment longer than was necessary in the vicinity of her, about how he pitied the poor man who was cursed to marry her one day, and yet, here he was, telling her he wasn’t finished with her, leading her to believe he had further plans for her. 

It was all so contradictory, which was so out of character for him. She knew him to be a traditional man, already set in his ways, prone to planning well in advance, liking things to stay the same. He always said what he meant and meant what he said.

Or so she thought.

But the way he had looked at her during their dance, the frustration and longing in his gaze that she’d tried to ignore, the way his hand seemed to tighten around her waist when Lord Stark was mentioned, even though he was the one who brought up the young wolf. And even the hint of jealousy in his voice when they discussed Cregan Stark gave her pause.

He had made a habit of not getting invested in her life for the last six years, spewing his hate speech about her any chance he’d got, or so she’d heard. 

“Varaena?” Jace interrupted her thoughts. “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing of importance,” she muttered, leaning against the side of the carriage.

The trees and grass seemed to fade away, the land giving way to the sea as they approached the ship. They disembarked the carriage, striding up the gangway onto the deck while their belongings were loaded onto the ship.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Rhaenyra came up to her after they were underway. “You’re very quiet today.”

“I’d have thought you’d appreciate my being quiet,” she replied sarcastically.

“Varaena,” her mother sighed. “Can we not just have a normal conversation?”

“Mother, there hasn’t been any normal between us for years, why start pretending now?”

She turned to walk to the other side of the ship, but her mother grabbed her arm.

“Varaena,” she snapped. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you’ve been acting differently this week, and I don’t like it.”

“What exactly do you not like? The fact that the Queen seemed to be taking an interest in me? Or perhaps it was that I rejected every suitor you threw at me?”

Rhaenyra seemed surprised at this statement.

“Yes, dear mother, I know it was you who shoved every breathing Lannister down my throat.”

“The Lannisters would be a strong alliance, you know that as well as I,” Rhaenyra argued.

“Of the ones who weren’t already married or betrothed, almost all of them were at least twice my age! The only one who wasn’t was practically a child, and yet that didn’t stop him from leering at my chest the entire time, just like the others!” 

Rhaenyra pursed her lips. “As distasteful as it is, they’re men, and not just that, they’re men of nobility.”

“So, what, they just get a pass? Them being lords just makes it okay?”

“Of course not, but it’s to be expected. As much as you and I might hate it, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Be that as it may, I won’t look for it in a husband of mine,” Varaena declared. 

“Then you’ll be hard pressed to find a husband in general,” her mother scoffed. “You’re a grown woman now, Varaena. It’s time to get over these things. You should have been betrothed a long time ago, and I regret not doing it, but here we are.”

“What are you saying, mother?”

“I’m saying that either you choose someone, or I will do it for you.”

Varaena was taken aback by her mother’s declaration. Her mother had told her this was a possibility for years, but she had never pressed her about it. For all her mother’s faults, and all her expectations, and despite the fact that Varaena could never seem to do enough, or be enough, she had never thought her mother would take it this far.

“Perhaps Lord Stark? You seem to like him, and I have no objection. We could use a solid alliance with the North.”

“Fine. You want the alliance with the North so bad? I’ll marry him. But all I ask is a little more time.”

Rhaenyra seemed to consider this for a moment, before nodding her head tersely in agreement.

Having come to a reluctant agreement with her mother, she wrenched free from her mother’s hand, which was still clutching tightly to her forearm, and went off in search of her brother Luke. Jace was good for many things, but when she needed a good cry, or a comforting hand, Luke was her first thought. 

He held her the entire way back to Dragonstone, his still childish fingers holding her hand while his other arm was wrapped around her. 

And when they finally reached Dragonstone, for the first time in her life, the castle no longer felt like home. 

Now, it felt more like a prison.

Chapter Text

Six Weeks Later

Varaena had barely spoken to her mother in the weeks that passed since their return. She was grateful to her brothers for not pressing her as to what happened, but, then again, there was never really an opportunity for them to. Their mother was preoccupied with planning her sons’ weddings, and had gotten the two of them heavily involved. Whenever they weren’t busy planning, they were spending much of their free time with Bhaela and Rhaena. So, like her mother, she rarely saw her brothers anymore.

When she did see her mother, all they did was fight. Rhaenyra kept pressing her about when she was going to move things forward with Lord Stark, but Varaena wasn’t ready. One night, the argument had gotten so heated, that it ended with a wicked slap to Varaena’s face by her mother. 

But she had refused to grant her mother the satisfaction of seeing her cry, because it wasn’t the first time, and she had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last.

She didn’t say a word to her mother again for an entire week.

Given her excessive amounts of alone time, she had taken to long walks on the beach, where she had a good view of her brothers and cousins on their dragons. Even from that distance, she could hear their laughter floating down from among the clouds. She longed to join them, her heart aching with the absence of her own dragon.

Lord Stark had come to visit for a few days, and left barely a week prior, which had really brightened her spirits. He hadn’t been able to stay very long, as pressing business in the North forced him to return earlier than he had hoped. 

Varaena had been sad to see him go, but not as sad as she had expected. She knew she had great affection towards him, and she was sure that, one day, she could love him. But she didn’t now, and it bothered her greatly. 

Her mother had stopped pestering her about their marriage. In fact, she had stopped talking about it altogether, which made her wonder if there was something she had yet to be made aware of. A mysterious raven had arrived for her mother a week after their return, but she wouldn’t say who it was from, or what it was about. She and Daemon had discussed it in hushed whispers for days, and sometimes, Varaena caught them looking at her while deep in one of their discussions.

News had arrived from the capitol that the King’s condition had worsened, and he wasn’t expected to last much longer. Before even finishing the letter, Rhaenyra had stood, wanting to visit her father one more time, despite the dangers of traveling with only a couple weeks left before her baby was expected. 

But then Daemon read the next part of the letter, revealing that it wasn’t his daughter that he wanted to see, it was his granddaughter.

Rhaenyra was practically livid, and refused to speak to Varaena till the day of her departure.

“I apologize for my behaviour, Varaena,” Rhaenyra apologized as she walked her down the dock. “The closer I get to the birth, the more it tends to affect my emotions.”

“It’s alright, mother, no need to apologize,” Varaena said stiffly.

“Varaena,” her mother sighed.

“If you’ll excuse me, I should get on my way,” she cut her mother off. “Tell my brothers I said goodbye.”

“You don’t wish to tell them yourself?”

“They’re busy, and besides, I’d like to see grandfather while I still can. I’m not really sure when I’ll be back, so don’t expect me anytime soon.”

“Your father and brothers will be along in a few days. I’m sure he would like to see his brother again, and your brothers their grandfather. I only wish I could join.”

“ Daemon can do whatever he chooses, it makes no difference to me.”

She gave her mother a nod goodbye, and then boarded the ship without a glance back.

Rather than make a grand entrance like her family did weeks ago, when Varaena reached King’s Landing, she chose to take a back entrance to the Keep, one away from prying eyes. Luckily, one of the Gold Cloaks, who was loyal to her mother, was willing to lead her, and make sure she entered the Keep without delay. 

It was so quiet. 

The silence unnerved her. It was like everyone was just waiting for the King to die, waiting to see what happened. Even though her mother was named heir, and Varaena after her, there were many lords and ladies who believed that Aegon should be named King. That his very birth invalidated Rhaenyra’s claim.

And now everyone was on the edge of their seats, waiting to see if Viserys would change his mind before his death. The doors were slightly ajar when she reached the King’s chambers, and she could hear muffled voices coming from inside.

The guard to her right opened the door further for her to step inside, where she found the Queen, the Hand, and Aemond gathered around the fire, while the King’s coughs could be heard every few minutes.

“We’ll have to expect some pushback when we-'' Otto Hightower cut himself off when he spied her standing in the doorway.

Alicent turned around, her gloomy face brightening when she saw Varaena. She rushed over and pulled her into a deep embrace, the scent of lilacs filling Varaena’s nostrils from the Queen’s free-flowing hair.

“I’m so glad to have you back, sweet girl,” Alicent pulled back, her hands still resting on Varaena’s shoulders. “Though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“As do I, your grace. How is the King?” She peered through the open doors to his bedchamber, but she could only make out his silhouette through the thin bed curtains.

“Worse and worse every day,” was her reply, her voice wavering a bit. “But he’s been waiting for you, I think.”

Varaena turned back to the Queen, whose eyes had gone dark, and her shoulders drooped. Whatever her reasons, or her feelings, may have been when she married the King, Varaena had no doubt that she did love him now, in some way.

“Well, we’ll leave the two of you alone for a time. But please, join us for dinner later,” Alicent gave her a sad smile.

Varaeana nodded, and watched as the three of them filed out of the room, her eyes meeting Aemond’s briefly before the door closed behind him, and she was left alone with the King.

She sat at his bedside for hours, tending to him as he drifted in and out of consciousness. She wiped his brow, changed his dressings, and fetched him more milk of the poppy when his pain became too much for him. She even read to him from his favourite book, which, even in his delirious state, he seemed to understand and enjoy.

But every time he woke, when he laid eyes on her, he called her Aemma. And it broke her heart to have to tell him, over and over, that his beloved Aemma was long gone.

The sky had grown dark by the time she got him fully settled and took her leave to prepare for dinner. It wasn’t just a physical preparation, it was a mental one as well. It was one thing when she still had her family around her, by now she was in the lion’s den all by herself. And while she and the Queen might be on pleasant terms, they were still on opposing sides, so she had to check herself before she said something she wasn’t supposed to.

The dinner party consisted of the Queen, her father the Hand, Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena. The King had become too ill to attend any more dinners, which she sorely regretted, as she hated being left alone with the rest of them.

Varaena took a reluctant seat between Helaena and Aemond, refusing to look to her left, where he sat. 

“The lone ship returns,” Helaena muttered to herself.

“Hello, Helaena,” Varaena gently squeezed her aunt’s shoulder.

“The lone ship returns,” Helaena said a little louder, drawing attention from both Aemond and the Queen. “The once black sails are now grey.”

“Don’t mind her,” Aegon cut in, taking a long sip of his wine. “She’s been in a fit for days.”

“Aegon,” Alicent snapped. 

Aegon just took another drink, this time downing his cup completely, then snapping at one of the servant girls to fill his glass again.

Varaena rolled her eyes at him, but a part of her mind was still rolling over Helaena’s words. She had said something similar to her the day her family left, and the coincidence was not lost on her.

“Tell me, Varaena, how have you been since we saw you last?” Alicent asked.

“Fine, thank you,” was her clipped reply.

“Just fine? Is everything alright?”

“Of course, it’s just-it’s just been a bit busy, what with the planning for my brothers’ weddings, and preparing for the birth of my new sibling.”

She unconsciously pulled on her dress sleeve, which had started to ride up above her wrist. An act which didn’t go unnoticed by Aemond, who was watching her out of the corner of his eye very intently. 

“You’re not lonely, I hope?”

“No, not at all. I have my young siblings to take care of, and my brothers spend time with me when they can.”

Alicent didn’t seem very satisfied by this, but she chose to drop the subject.

“How long do you plan to stay this time, dear niece?” Aegon asked, slouching in his chair and ignoring his mother’s requests to sit up straight.

“Well, seeing as I’m here to…say goodbye,” she cleared her throat, “I suppose I’ll be here for however long that takes.”

A silence fell over the table, and Varaena was sure she saw tears forming in the Queen’s eyes.

Aegon, however, started chuckling. “Be careful what you promise, niece. Knowing my father, that’s likely to be for a long time.”

“Aegon, that’s enough” his mother admonished him again.

“I’m only speaking the truth,” he defended. “The old man refuses to die.”

“Aegon!” Otto slammed his hand against the table. “Shut your mouth, now.”

Aegon slumped back in his chair, his arms folding across his chest.

“Will any of your family be coming to visit as well, Varaena?” Alicent asked, quickly changing the subject.

“My mother said Daemon and my brothers would be here in a few days, but I’m not sure when exactly. I know she wishes she could be here as well, but it’d be quite impossible for her to travel right now.”

“Understandably,” the Queen nodded, “but at least you’ll have some family here to celebrate with you.”

Varaena almost didn’t catch what she said, her mind took a moment to process it.

“Celebrate?” Her brow furrowed. “Celebrate what?”

“Your wedding of course,” Alicent laughed lightly.

This seemed to pique everyone’s interest. Aegon sat up straighter, peering around his grandfather to look at his mother, who was watching Varaena with a confused expression.

Even Aemond seemed interested, and slightly confused, which was the most emotion she’d seen him express beyond anger in a long time.

“You’ll have to forgive me, I’m still a bit confused. What wedding are you referring to, your grace?”

Varaena wasn’t sure why she asked. She was sure the response would be the thing she dreaded most in the world.

“Why, your wedding to my son, Aemond.”

Chapter Text

Varaena’s heart stopped completely. 

Her fork fell from her hand, clattering loudly against the gold plate. The noise echoed through the room, which had fallen into a stunned silence.

She wasn’t sure what to say, or even think, she just sat there, like a statue, for what felt like hours. When she could finally move again, she dared a glance at Aemond.

He, too, seemed to be taken by surprise, looking at his mother incredulously. This was a small comfort to her, but a comfort nonetheless.

“Wh-what?” she stuttered, finally finding her voice.

“Did Rhaenyra not tell you?” Alicent seemed confused.

“My mother knew?”

“Of course she did. She and Daemon agreed to the marriage weeks ago.”

Varaena was in complete and utter shock. She wasn’t sure what hurt more: that her mother would do this to her, or that she wasn’t entirely surprised.

“How could you do this, mother?” Aemond asked, his voice a deadly whisper.

Alicent flinched at his tone. “I thought you’d be pleased, my son. You and Varaena were the best of friends once, and despite your current issues with each other, whatever they may be, you seemed quite taken with her. Even your father noticed. In fact, it was he that first declared you should be wed.”

She could see Aemond shaking his head out of the corner of her eye, his fists clenched tightly as they rested on the table.

She felt her throat closing up, and her lungs struggled to breathe, while her eyes burned with the hot tears she refused to cry.

Her chair scraped loudly against the stone floor as she pushed it back, her legs shaking as she slowly stood. 

“I-I-I need some-some air,” she stuttered, her voice shaking.

She barely registered the laughter that came from Aegon as it finally became too much for him to hold in. But she couldn’t take it any longer.

Aemond’s hand gently grabbed her wrist, and a pinprick of pain went up her arm. She jerked free from his grasp and stumbled backwards, her entire body shaking as she fled the room, walking down the hall as fast as she could. She was afraid that if she tried to run, her legs would give out and she’d fall.

She wasn’t really sure where she was going, just anywhere that he wasn’t, anywhere she could be alone, where she didn’t have to see the look on Alicent’s face, or hear the laugh that came from Aegon’s lips.

Varaena found her way to the gardens, acres of trees and bushes and flowers that she could get lost in. She walked up and down lane after lane, her breath coming in short bursts, tears clouding her vision. The only light by which to see was the full moon above her, peaking through the gaps in the treetops.

She turned a corner in the path, and saw a covered terrace ahead of her, which she immediately ducked into, falling upon one of the seats in exhaustion.

She couldn’t seem to calm down. Her heart was racing, her hands trembling, and any coherent thoughts she’d had had fled her brain.

“Breathe, just breathe,” she told herself over and over again.

She could hear the waves of the sea in the distance, and saw the moon glinting off the surface of the water. She tried to focus on those, bring some semblance of peace to herself again, but she couldn’t.

The ground crunched behind her from someone’s foot, and she turned to see the man who was going to ruin her life approaching.

“You!” she cried as she practically leapt from her chair. “You-you son of a bitch!”

“Varaena,” he said placatingly, his hands outstretched as he got within arms length of her. “I swear I had no idea.”

“You worthless, brainless, idiotic, piece of shit, excuse for a man!” She kept trying to back away, but he shot out a hand to grab her. “Was this your idea?”

“No, I-”

“Are you just trying to torture me more? What, calling me a whore wasn’t enough for you, you had to ruin my life altogether?”

“Varaena,” he said again, pulling her closer and taking both arms in hand. “I swear by all the gods, I had no idea. You have to believe me.”

“Well I don’t! How could I? This has to be some cruel joke, some scheme you and your fucking family cooked up to get back at me!”

“Get back at you for what?” He looked puzzled, a rare sight to be sure.

“I don’t know!” She snapped. “Whatever it is you think I did to you that made you hate me!”

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“Please, Aemond, please don’t do this to me! If you ever cared for me, ever at all, please don’t make me do this!”

“There’s nothing for it, I’m afraid. The king has decreed it, our parents have all agreed. It’s to be done by the end of the week, to make sure my father is still alive to witness it.”

A sob broke free, and she felt her knees buckling. He was quick to grab her, keeping her from falling as he led her back to one of the benches and sat down beside her.

“Just breathe, you stupid girl, I don’t want to have to carry you back to the Keep,” he huffed.

“Get your hands off me,” she demanded, pulling on her arm with her free hand.

She only succeeded in tearing her sleeve, not even realizing she’d done so until she saw Aemond’s eye glance down at her forearm, and his back stiffen. 

He had a murderous look on his face, and his grip slackened just for a moment, but it was long enough for her to tear free from his grasp and jump up from her seat, putting some distance between the two.

The muscles in his jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth tightly, his hands balling into fists as he slowly rose from the bench.

“Who did this to you?” He growled, gesturing to her arm.

Her arm which had a series of purple bruises in the distinct shape of a hand.

“It’s none of your business,” she snapped.

“On the contrary, if you’re to become my wife, then I think it’s exactly my business.”

“I will never be your wife . I may not be able to change the King’s mind, but nothing will change between us. You’ll be the same as you’ve always been. The same bastard who ripped out my heart and stomped on it, just because he could.”

They stood there, staring at each other, neither of them daring to say anything for a few moments. Her heart was beating rapidly, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of nerves, anger, or something else.

He took a step forward, then another, then another, approaching her achingly slow, till his face was inches from hers.

“There are a lot of things that I could do, niece. Look around. No one is here, no one is watching. What’s to stop me from taking you right here, right now?”

He had a mischievous glint in his eye, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk.

“If you touch me,” she threatened, “I will not hesitate to castrate you.”

“With what?” He laughed. “I doubt your fingernails are that sharp.”

“Do you honestly think I’m foolish enough to walk around without some kind of weapon? If I were going to do that, I might as well walk right up to a known murderer and put the dagger in his hand myself.”

He arched his brow, eyeing her with tantalizing interest. “I’m very intrigued to know where this secret weapon is that you supposedly have hidden.”

“You’ll be disappointed, I’m afraid. There’s no way in hell you’ll ever see it.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” he teased. “And I am never one to back down from a challenge.”

“This is one challenge that I can guarantee you’ll never win, uncle.”

“Well, we’ll see about that. If I remember correctly, I believe I told you I wasn’t finished with you yet,” he smiled at her.

It was the kind of smile that sent a shiver right through her, but not in a bad way. Her heart was beating even faster than before, threatening to explode right out of her chest. She felt a heat rising to her cheeks, and she took a step back to catch her breath, but he wasn’t about to let her go anywhere. 

When she stepped, so did he, till he had her backed up against one of the pillars, the cold stone biting at her blazing skin. One of his hands came to rest on her hip, his fingertips digging into her side as he pulled her flush against him. She felt his other hand trace along her back, his calloused skin feeling rough against her bare back, and her heart skipped a beat as butterflies danced in her stomach. 

She had a feeling she knew where this was going, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to stop it, or let it happen.

He drew his hand ever upwards, all the while his good eye roved up and down her body, till it came to rest at her jaw, his long fingers wrapping around the nape of her neck, and tilting her head back.

The breath mingled as he leaned forward slightly, a whisper of his lips on hers. They stood like that for a moment, neither one making a move, until…

He tilted his head ever so slightly, and pulled her lips completely against his. It wasn’t a rough kiss, nor was it extremely passionate. But she could feel the heat in it, the desire behind it, the want and need for more.

It was over almost as soon as it had begun, leaving her mind reeling and her lungs gasping, and her heart wanting more. 

He didn’t go very far, staging close enough that the tip of the nose grazed against hers as he watched her, his lips slightly red from the kiss.

“Challenge accepted,” he whispered to her.

Her mind hadn’t even fully processed his words, and then he was gone. 

Gone like a thief in the night.

Leaving her all alone, cursing herself for letting it get that far.

Hating herself for liking it.

And enraged at them both for liking it.

Chapter Text

Varaena watched from an upper balcony as Daemon and her brothers dismount their horses as the gates closed behind them. 

Alicent, Otto, and a contingent of guards were waiting for them in the courtyard, playing nice as best they could. But even from this distance she could see the sneer painted across Otto’s face.

Her fingers tapped against the stone as the voices below drifted up to her.

“Welcome back to King’s Landing Prince Daemon, Princes Jacaerys and…Lucerys,” Alicent called, hesitating to welcome back the boy who supposedly took her son’s eye.

Daemon said nothing, simply scoffing and gesturing for the boys to go inside.

“Seems your father isn’t happy to be back here,” a teasing voice said behind her.

“He’s not my father,” she snapped.

Aegon crossed his arms and leaned against the railing. “My apologies, I must have misread the situation.”

“What do you want, Aegon?” 

“Nothing. I’m just bored and I thought it’d be fun to come watch the spitting match. But it looks like they’ve toned it down this time.”

“Are you an ass on purpose, or does it just come naturally?”

“It’s a gods-given gift,” he chuckled.

She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the courtyard below her. Alicent and her father had already gone back inside, but Daemon still stood there, his eyes having drifted up to where she and Aegon stood, his head cocked to the side as he studied them.

She stared at him, unblinking for a few seconds, before she turned and walked back inside.

“Are you ignoring him or something?” Aegon jogged up to her just as she entered the hallway.

“Is it that obvious?” She said sarcastically. 

He shrugged. “Not at all. I mean, not being in the courtyard to greet him, turning your back on him when he looked at you, I just assumed it was the new way of saying ‘I love you’.”

“Why do you care? It doesn’t affect your day drinking, or your visits to the Street of Silk, or your blatant disregard for your wife, and your duties.”

“I take great offence to that,” Aegon laughed, apparently thinking she was joking.

“I’m being serious, Aegon,” she stopped him in the middle of the hallway. “Unless it’s one of the things I just mentioned, you don’t care about anything. And of the things I just mentioned, none of them are good. Although I don’t really blame you for the day drinking. I’m considering taking it up myself, otherwise I might kill myself while married to your brother.”

“He’s not that bad,” Aegon scoffed. “But…should you find yourself…in need…”

She narrowed her eyes at him as a wide grin spread across his face, his hand reaching up to twirl a lock of her hair through his fingers.

“My bed is always available to you,” he finished.

She faked a gag at his words, laughing loudly at his offended expression.

“While I appreciate the…offer, I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass,” she scrunched her nose.

“The offer stands,” he winked. “Come on, my mother wants to see you.”

She laughed lightly as he threw his arm around her shoulder and they walked off together.

They rounded the corner, coming up to the Queen’s chambers, and-

“Varaena!”

She turned around to see Daemon leaning against the wall a couple yards away.

“I’ll see you inside,” Aegon nodded as he ducked into the room.

Daemon waited for the door to close before he pushed off the wall and approached her.

“I was surprised you weren’t waiting in the courtyard to greet us, Varaena,” he said, coming to a stop a foot away.

She tilted her head up to look him in the eye. “I have nothing to say to you, Daemon.”

“Not even to your brothers? I thought you adored them.”

“They were unfortunate casualties. I’ll see them when I’m sure you’re not lurking nearby.”

“Have I done something to offend?” He put on a show of looking confused.

“Don’t act like you’re innocent in this! I know both of you had to agree, she told me you did.”

“Varaena, please try to understand-”

“Understand what? That, once again, you’ve both disregarded my feelings, and condemned me to a living hell? That you went behind my back, and agreed to marry me off to someone who’s more likely to kill me on our wedding night than bed me?”

“This isn’t about you!” He hissed. “This is about protecting our family! We need to know what they’re planning, and this is the only way to do that!”

She looked at him incredulously. “So you’re using me? As your spy?”

“Don’t be dramatic. We all have our parts to play. This is a war, Varaena. It may not look like it yet, but it is. It has been since the moment Aegon was born, even since the day Alicent married my brother. The only question that remains is who’s going to draw the first blood.”

“I don’t care,” she spat. “I won’t be a pawn in your games anymore.”

She turned to leave but he grabbed her wrist, squeezing so hard she thought her bones might break.

“I’d be very careful with your words right now,” he growled at her, his lips pinched tightly.

“Or what?” She scoffed. “I’m already facing the worst punishment you could give me, there’s nothing more you can do. And there’s nothing you can say to fix this.”

She wrenched free from his grasp and stepped backwards towards the door.

“Tell Rhaenyra ,” she continued, “I will always support her as the heir to the throne, but I don’t wish to speak to her for a long time. Maybe never again.”

Daemon opened his mouth to speak, but she opened the door and stepped inside, slamming it loudly in his face.

She leaned back against the wood, her head tilting back and hitting the door with a thunk as she lout a deep sigh.

“Everything alright?” Aegon asked from his seat next to his mother by the fireplace.

“Just peachy,” she replied sarcastically as she sat down across from them.

“Would you like some tea, dear?” Alicent offered.

“I don’t suppose you have anything stronger?” She asked, no sooner finishing her question than Aegon was reaching out a glass of wine to her.

She nodded her thanks and took a long sip, leaning back in her chair.

“Well, you ladies have fun,” Aegon said, rising from his seat. 

He offered Varaena an encouraging thumbs up as he passed by, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

She and Alicent sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds to be heard was the crack of the wood in the fire, and the sipping of their drinks.

“What did you wish to see me about, your grace?” Varaena asked flatly, breaking the silence.

“I-I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. After you left dinner so suddenly the other night, you’ve seemed to be avoiding me. And everyone else, for that matter.”

“Why shouldn’t everything be alright? I’ve just been told I’m to be married, I’m positively ecstatic.”

Alicent started, clearly not expecting that answer, but when she looked up from her tea cup, and saw the expression on Varaena’s face she understood.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong, Varaena,” she sighed. “I thought you and he would be happy. You were friends, once.”

“Exactly. Once . But not anymore, and we haven’t been for a long time. If you hadn’t noticed, we’ve hated each other for years. And, in truth, I believed you hated me and my family as well, and I’m still not convinced that you don’t.”

“I don’t hate you, my dear. I must admit I don’t like your family, but I don’t hate you .”

“Then why on earth would you want to marry me to your son?” Varaena exclaimed. “Even if you don’t hate me, you’re still forever binding your beloved son to my family. Why would you want that if you can’t stand them?”

Alicent was silent for a moment, pondering her next words.

“The truth is…I’m hoping you can help us. My father believes that your mother and father are planning something, and, in the interest of keeping the peace, I would like your help in figuring out whether or not that’s true.”

Varanea clenched her teeth. “First of all, he is not my father, and I wish that people would stop calling him that!”

Alicent flinched slightly at her tone, averting her eyes for a brief moment. Varaena took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

“Am I to understand that you want to use me as your spy? Against my own mother?”

“I wouldn’t phrase it that way, but-”

“How else would you phrase it, your grace ?” She cut her off, her voice taking a mocking tone at the words ‘your grace’. “You’re asking me to find out if my mother is plotting against you and your family, and to report whatever that might be back to you. Is that not exactly what a spy would do?”

“I suppose you’re right. But, that’s not what I-”

“You know,” Varaena said slowly, angrily, as she stood from her chair, “I’m sick, and tired, of people trying to use me. That is all they have ever done, is use and abuse me. Like I’m a toy to be picked up when one is in need of a laugh, and discarded when I no longer have any use. And I hate it.”

She paused for a moment, collecting herself, before she continued. 

“As I told Aemond, I will marry him, to please the King. But know this: I am no one’s spy. Not yours, not your fathers, no one’s. I will not be a puppet in whatever sick game is being played between you and my mother, not anymore.”

Without another word, or a backwards glance, she strode over to the doors, ripped them open, and stepped out into the hall.

Chapter Text

The laces of her gown were pulled tighter and tighter, till she was sure she would pass out. 

Varaena stood in her chambers, in front of the full-length mirror, surrounded by half a dozen ladies maids, all preparing her for her wedding.

“Breathe, just breathe,” she had to remind herself over and over. 

She’d already started to panic whilst taking a bath, her heart racing, her hands shaking, unable to catch her breath. 

She almost didn’t recognize her reflection. 

This strange woman stood before her, clothed in a silk gown, as black as night, with pearls stitched into the bodice, lining the plunging neckline that went halfway down her sternum, leaving the sides of her breasts exposed.

The bell style sleeves dragged across the ground when her arms weren’t raised, and the train of the dress stretched out a good four feet behind her. 

She had decided to forgo any jewelry, except for her father’s signet ring, which Rhaenys had loaned to her, as a way to keep him with her during this.

Her maids had tried to braid her hair, as her mother’s had been, but she had waved them off, informing them that she wanted it to be brushed through and left to hang down her back, with a few pearls threaded through the strands. 

The Queen had given her a dress to wear, one of green satin with gold trimmings, but she had profusely declined, saying that if she was going to be married to someone not of her choosing, then she would damn well wear a dress of her choosing.

The finishing touch was the cloak of her original house. In recent years, her mother had changed their sigil from the simple Targaryen style, with the three-headed dragon, to a mixture of their ancestral houses. In two corners were the Targaryen sigils, in one corner was the Velaryon sigil, and in the final was the sigil of the Arryns, her grandmother Aemma’s family, with the fabric of the cloak itself remaining black. 

The maids curtsied and left her alone. The moment they were gone, she let out a deep sigh, doing her best to calm herself. It wasn’t that she was nervous, more that she was still angry, and it took everything in her to not run away. 

A knock sounded on the door, shaking her from her thoughts.

“Come in,” she called, smoothing down the front of her gown.

The door opened, revealing Jacaerys on the other side, dressed handsomely in his tunic and trousers.

“I’ve come to escort you down,” he said softly, approaching her with a slow pace.

They had not spoken much since his arrival. Varaena had hardly left her chambers, and only permitted a few people to enter. She had gone to say hello to him and Lucerys when she was sure that Daemon was gone, but she hadn’t stayed long, especially when they offered little support for her. 

They were sympathetic, of course, but Jacaerys, at least, agreed that they should take every opportunity they got to learn what the Queen and her father were plotting. Lucerys hadn’t agreed per se, but he hadn’t said anything in disagreement.

“I’m ready,” she replied, starting towards the door.

He offered his arm to her, but she ignored it and kept walking. Sighing in frustration, he caught up to her in the hall and walked beside her down to the throne room.

The Queen and the Hand had wanted to do an elaborate ceremony in the Great Sept, but both she and Aemond had declined, for once being in agreement that they wanted something smaller and simpler.

They opted to have the ceremony in the throne room, and limited the guests to the leaders of the Great Houses, and some of the smaller houses as well.

“Are you going to stay angry with me?” Jacaerys asked as they descended the steps. 

“I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed,” she sighed.

“What did you want me to say, Varaena? It’s the logical choice.”

“No, the logical choice would have been to let me marry Lord Stark and solidify our alliance with the North. If the Queen and Hand are actually planning something, having the assured support of the North would be invaluable.”

“But if we can find out what they’re planning ahead of time, perhaps we can stop it all together.”

Varaena stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Does my happiness mean so very little to you?”

“No, of course not,” he argued. “But you of all people should understand by now that happiness isn’t always a guarantee when you’re in positions like ours. Oftentimes duty must come before love.”

“Don’t you dare speak to me of duty ,” she hissed, turning her back on him as she approached the doors to the throne room.

She could hear the muffled voice of the High Septon, reading out the prayers prior to the start of the ceremony.

Daemon stood in front of the doors, waiting for her. 

“As you know,” he began, “traditionally, the bride walks down the aisle with and is presented by her father, so-”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I will not have you giving me away. When the Septon asks, Jacaerys will be the one to answer. Given that my father is dead, he is my closest male relative.”

Daemon clenched his jaw. “Do you wish to have him walk you as well?”

“No,” she shook her head, “I’ll walk myself.”

Daemon and Jace shared a look, clearly exasperated with her.

“Are you sure, sister? People might talk…”

“I’m sure. Someone must present me to the groom, but there is nothing that says I have to have someone walk me.”

“Jace, go take your place,” Daemon ordered.

He waited till they were alone, then turned to her, grabbing her wrist like he always did and gripping it tightly.

“You would spit on tradition,” he seethed, “simply because you’re angry about this? You’re not a child, Varaena.”

“Yes, I’m angry, but if you think that’s the sole reason why I refuse to allow you to walk me down the aisle, then you don’t know me at all.”

She wrenched free from his grasp, turning to face the door while she waited for it to be opened.

“You are not my father. You never have been, so you never will be.”

Daemon looked like he wanted to say more, but just then, the voices on the other side silenced, and the doors were opened. 

A couple hundred people surrounded her on either side of the aisle, each of them watching her as she descended the steps into the throne room, by herself.

A few murmurs went through the crowd at her lack of escort, but she tuned them out and held her head high, refusing to be intimidated by them.

The King sat on the throne, with the Queen standing to his left and the Hand on his right. At the base of the steps to the throne, stood the High Septon, a massive book in his hands, already opened to a specific page.

And there, a few feet in front of the Septon, stood Aemond.

He was dressed in his usually black leather tunic and trousers, this time sans the sword at his side. His hair had been neatly combed and tied back, and it almost looked as though he’d gotten a new eyepatch as well.

She would have been flattered if she wasn’t so enraged at the whole situation.

For Aemond’s part, when he saw those doors open, and she stepped into the light, he felt like his breath had been knocked from his body. 

As much as he might dislike her, he had to admit she was beautiful. In fact, probably one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on, including his half-sister, who had once claimed the title of the most beautiful in the realms.

And as he watched her walk towards him, her chin held high with a regal air, confidence in every step, he wondered when he’d gone from hating her, with every fibre of his being, to simply disliking her, and, on rare occasions, actually enjoying her company.

Varaena finally reached the end of the aisle, taking Aemond’s outstretched hand as they stood together in front of the Septon, while Daemon, who had walked behind her, begrudgingly took his place beside her brothers.

“Who presents this woman?” The Septon’s voice echoed through the hall.

Jace stepped forward. “I, Jacaerys Velaryon, representative of her maiden house, present this woman for marriage.”

The Septon nodded and returned his gaze to the book before him. He proceeded to read out a number of prayers about unity and faithfulness, prayers for the couple to move forward as one. It felt like hours had passed when he finally set the book down, and picked up two lengths of silk, one blue and one black, which he then wrapped around their joined hands, letting the ends hang in the air.

“Please turn to each other and recite your vows,” he commanded.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, until my last day.”

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his, and he is mine, from this day, until my last day.”

The Septon then took the ends of the ribbons and tied them together, symbolizing their union.

“Let it be known that Aemond of House Targaryen and Varaena of House Velaryon are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

He then turned to Aemond and said, “Make your pledge to your bride.”

“With this kiss,” Aemond murmured, just loud enough for her and the Septon to hear, “I pledge my love.”

He leaned forward, taking her cheek softly in his hand, and placed his lips on hers. It was more tender than she had expected, and for a moment she wanted to forget all that had happened, all they had said and done to each other, and melt into his embrace.

He pulled away after a few moments, his eye ablaze, studying her face intently. 

The Septon unraveled the ribbons, and instructed Aemond to remove her cloak, which he then replaced with one bearing only the Targaryen crest, his crest.

It was done.

They turned to face the crowd, which erupted with thunderous applause, the loudest of which came from Aegon, who looked at the two with a wild grin.

They walked hand in hand, back down the aisle, now as husband and wife.

Tents and tables had been set up in one of the courtyards in the gardens, with plenty of food and wine, and musicians playing jaunty tunes.

Varaena and Aemond sat at the center table, with the King and Queen, his siblings, and the Hand to their left, and Daemon and her brothers to their right.

Neither she nor Aemond had said a word to the other since the ceremony, both of them choosing to instead sip from their wine goblets, or nibble on food. Their guests were milling about, some dancing, some of them already drunk. 

The raucous laughter only seemed to make her feel worse inside, wanting to scream at everyone who came up to the table to offer their congratulations. But she plastered on her best smile, and thanked them with as much happiness as she could muster.

Aemond stood after a while, and stepped over to speak with his grandfather, leaving Varaena alone. She sighed deeply, resting her head in her hand, but she groaned when she saw Daemon rise from his seat and walk over to her.

She hurriedly stood as well, making eye contact with him for a moment before she turned her back on him and strode over to where Aegon sat.

“Come dance with me,” she asked.

“Why? I hate dancing,” he grunted, taking another long drink of wine.

“I often feel the same, but it’s better than speaking to Daemon at the moment.”

“Fine, but I’ll warn you, I’m to the point where I might step on your toes.”

He took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor, the couples already there parting for them as he spun her around before placing his hand on her waist.

“What did Daemon want to talk to you about?”

“He just wants to continue the conversation we were having earlier, but I have no wish to resume it. He can make his justifications, but it won’t change anything.”

“Am I to assume this has something to do with you marrying my brother?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” she grumbled. “There’s nothing he can say to convince me to see it from his point of view.”

“You know I’m the last person to speak highly of my brother, but I really don’t see what’s so terrible about all this.”

She remained silent, refusing to meet his eyes as she scanned the crowd around them.

“Is this about whatever happened between you two?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Clearly,” he chuckled. “It obviously must be something big if you two have hated each other for so long.”

“I said I don’t wish to talk about it!” She hissed. “I swore I would never speak of it again, and I’ve kept that promise for six years. I have no intention of breaking it now.”

Aegon’s eyes lighted up at her slight slip. “Six years you say?”

“Aegon, drop it now, or I swear by all the gods I will stab you.”

“With what? All the knives are too far away from you,” he laughed.

She smirked at him. “Not all of them.”

His eyes widened as he dropped his gaze to look her body up and down.

“Does my brother know about this handy weapon? I imagine it’s quite the turn-on.”

“Yes, he knows, and no, nothing happened.”

“Shame. He could stand to get some action. Though I suppose he’ll get that tonight.”

She paled instantly, tripping over his feet and almost falling flat on her face.

“My apologies, sister ,” he teased. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“You absolutely did, you ass. If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer not to think about tonight.”

“With you being a virgin, I’m sure it’s quite thrilling and terrifying at the same time.”

Again, she was quiet, but it seemed her silence was more than telling.

“Are you hiding a dirty little secret, niece?” He mockingly gasped.

“Aegon…”

He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Not quite the picture of purity, are you? Tell me, who was it? Someone on the Street of Silk? Or did you find some servant on Dragonstone willing to do the deed?”

“Aegon! I’m not discussing this, especially with you!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you of all people would likely be…aroused by it, and I don’t want to deal with that.”

“This just gets better and better,” he said gleefully. “What on earth could possibly have done that would get even someone like me aroused?”

She stared at him for a long time. “Let’s just say it involved two boys from a tavern in Pentos and an entire cask of wine, and that’s all I’m going to say.”

Aegon smiled even wider, clearly greatly intrigued by her words. He opened his mouth to say more, but she cut him off quickly.

“That’s all you’re getting out of me, so don’t even bother asking.”

His shoulders deflated a bit and he started to pout, causing her to laugh at his dramatics.

The song ended, and he bowed to her with great flourish, before walking back to take his seat. She started to follow him, but someone took her hand and held her back.

“Your highness,” a deep voice addressed her.

She turned around to find herself face to face with Lord Cregan Stark. They stood there for a while, not saying anything, neither of them sure what to say exactly.

“Lord Stark,” she said, finally breaking the silence. “I–I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Yes, well, I felt I should come to offer my congratulations.”

“Thank you, my lord. I’m glad you could come.”

He cocked his head. “Are you really?”

She grasped his hand and pulled him off to the side of the courtyard, away from the crowd.

“Cregan, I…I’m sorry about all this. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I swear.”

“It’s alright, your highness,” he tried to placate her.

“No, it’s not alright. I feel as though you’ve been led on, and I want you to know that’s not the case. I truly was interested. More than just interested in truth. It’s just…”

“Varaena,” he stopped her, his thumb skimming the top of her hand. “I understand, it’s alright. If I had known, I would have stopped this sooner. But I, too, was rather taken with you.”

“Known what?” She asked, furrowing her brow in confusion.

“How you felt about the prince, of course. If I had been paying closer attention, I might have seen that you already held great affection for him, and I would never have pursued you.”

Varaena was at a complete loss for words. Her eyes darted all over the place, unable to focus as she processed his words. 

“Varaena? Are you alright?” Lord Stark reached out to offer a steadying hand when she seemed to stumble a little.

She shook her head slowly, her gaze rising to meet his. “I–I don’t…what do you mean by ‘great affection’?”

He looked at her curiously, searching for something written across her face, until his face lit up with understanding.

“You haven’t realized it yet, have you?”

“What on earth are you talking about?” She demanded.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough,” he smiled. “I have a feeling he will as well.”

Lord Stark brought her hand up to his lips, placing a tender kiss on her knuckles.

“I wish you all the happiness in the world, Varaena. And remember, the North is always open to you, should you ever find yourself in need of an ally, or simply a friend.”

With that, he bowed to her, and left her alone, weaving his way back through the crowd.

Varaena stood there for a moment, leaning against one of the stone statues to steady herself. She knew what Lord Stark was implying, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe him.

Her gaze darted over to the table where they had sat, Aemond once again sitting in his chair, watching her, his eye narrowing when he saw her leaning against the statue, clearly struggling with something. He started to rise from his seat, but, rather than standing there waiting for him, she turned on her heel and fled into the gardens.

She just wanted someplace quiet, where she could be alone to think.

Her heart was pounding wildly when she stopped, plopping down on one of the marble benches that lined the pathway. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Cregan had said.

Obviously she had done something to give him the impression that she had feelings for Aemond, but what it was she couldn’t say. She still hated the bastard…or at least, she thought she did. But there were times where she wondered.

Like the other night in the gardens, when he had her up against a wall. She had wanted more, wanted him to keep going. And when she crawled into bed that night, she dreamt of calloused hands skimming her bare hips, lifting her legs up, placing kisses along her inner thigh, getting higher and higher until–

“Are you going to make it a habit of running from me in the gardens?” Aemond broke her train of thought.

She gasped lightly, looking up at him with red cheeks as he approached, doing her best to ignore the tightening in her core.

“Only if you make it a habit of chasing me,” she replied.

Aemond sat down beside her, close enough that his leg was pressed against hers.

“What did Lord Stark say to you? You seemed quite upset by whatever it was.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she shook her head. “It’s not important.”

“Obviously it is, otherwise it wouldn’t have shaken you up so badly.”

“Do you really care? Or are you hoping I’ll tell you something you can throw in my face in the future?”

Aemond was silent for a moment. “I actually do care,” he finally whispered.

She looked at him, her eyes widened in surprise.

“I’m shocked. I didn’t think you had it in you to care about another person, let alone me.”

“I’m a man of many talents. Now, do I need to go fight for your honor, like the good husband I am, or are you going to be alright?”

“I’m fine,” she bit out. “And you’ve been a husband for all of four hours, how do you know you’re any good at it?”

“Of course I’m good at it, I’m good at everything.”

She snorted. “Not everything. Arrogant much?”

“I’m not being arrogant, I’m simply pointing out the facts. Something you’ll come to realize is true after tonight.” 

When she glanced over at him, she saw he was smirking, his eye roving all over her body. She elbowed him hard, in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.

“If you think I’m going to let you touch me, you’re even more arrogant and stupid than I thought.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice, dear wife . My mother is insisting on the bedding ceremony. I suppose she wants to make sure it’s entirely legal. No loopholes for the future.”

“You can’t be serious,” she groaned. “There is absolutely no way I’m allowing a group of men, and your mother , to watch while you bed me.”

Aemond chuckled darkly. “Well, it might please you to know that she offered to forget the whole thing if I asked.”

“So, being the good husband you claim to be, you asked her to forget it…right?”

“Maybe…maybe not,” he shrugged his shoulders. “But I’ll guarantee it…if you tell me what Lord Stark said to you.”

She narrowed her eyes in frustration. “You are such a fucking bastard.”

“When I want to be. Now fess up.”

“Fine,” she conceded, thinking for a moment on what to say. “He said…he said that you’re in love with me.”

Of course she wasn’t going to tell him the truth. He would just mock her for the rest of her miserable life. 

His mouth parted in surprise, clearly not expecting her to say that.

“He said it was so obvious that you were head over heels, an absolute fool for me. No surprise there, I am quite the catch. But then he asked if you’d fucked me yet, and, I must admit, the thought did make me a bit ill.”

She could practically see the wheels turning in his brain, trying to figure out if she was telling the truth or not. In the end he must have decided she was, because he simply nodded his head once and faced forward again.

“I’ll tell my mother we’ve decided to forgo the bedding ceremony,” he muttered. 

They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the birds chirp and the distant sounds of the party still raging on. 

“Aemond,” she whispered, “do you think there’s any hope for us? To be happy, I mean.”

He pondered her question briefly. “I don’t know, Varaena. I honestly don’t know.”

Her whole body was shaking on the walk back to her chambers. 

She thought for sure she would vomit from the stress and anxiety about what was to come, so she just prayed to all the gods that it would be over soon.

Aemond even glanced over at her a few times to make sure she was still breathing, but she couldn’t even bear to look at him.

The guests had all given them a ‘proper send off’, with many of them cheering and clapping their hands. She even heard a few of the more drunken men say that the prince was going to ride her even rougher than he did Vhagar. Her stomach had roiled at the words, but she refused to acknowledge the men. 

Lucerys had come up to her, shortly before they left, apologizing for his lack of support.

“I want you to know,” he said, “that from now on, you have my support in anything and everything. If I could have stopped this, I would have. And I still wish that I had spoken up, but it’s too late now.”

“It’s alright, sweet boy,” she pulled him into a tight embrace. “It’s not your fault, so don’t fret. If I’m lucky, perhaps I’ll drive him to the brink of insanity, and he might just kill himself .”

She could feel his smile against her neck, and it warmed her heart.

“I love you, Varaena,” he whispered.

“I love you more, Lucerys.”

He pulled back from her, his hands clutching her forearms as if he needed to hold onto her for as long as he could.

“I wish I was more like you,” he sighed.

“Why in the Seven Hells would you want to be more like me?” She laughed.

“You’re much braver than I, you always have been. And you’re strong, and smart. I’m sure mother is proud of you.”

Her heart clenched as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“I assure you, I’m not all that. I have plenty of flaws, just like the rest of you. As for mother, well…I can only hope that obeying her plan allows for a sliver of pride. But I have a feeling that’s too lofty a dream.”

Lucerys looked at her quizzically, but she just pulled him into another hug.

“You are perfect just the way you are, my boy. I would never want you to be any different.”

A small smile came to her lips, easing some of the tension she currently felt, but not enough.

Her maids were already waiting inside to undress her, and Aemond was at least kind enough to wait in the sitting room and allow her some privacy.

When she was reduced to a simple, floor-length, silk nightgown, the doors opened and he walked in. 

He had taken off his tunic, leaving only his linen shirt and black trousers. Seeing him still mostly dressed, while her thin nightgown left very little to the imagination, she felt so exposed.

The doors to the balcony were wide open, the cool breeze blowing through leaving goosebumps on her skin. A shiver ran through her, but it wasn’t entirely from the cold.

Her nerves made her entire body tremble a little. 

He stopped in his tracks the moment he realized what she was wearing, his sapphire eye roving all over body, turning her insides to molten lava.

They stood there, staring at each other for the longest time, neither of them daring to speak or to even move. 

Then, he took a tentative step forward. So did she.

Back and forth, they walked slowly, till they were inches away from each other.

Towering above her, his back was straight as a rod, and he was breathing so shallowly, she wondered if he was breathing at all.

“So…” She whispered, her heart pounding furiously.

“So,” he echoed. 

The silence was deafening.

“Do you want to…I–I mean, do you want me to…” she stuttered, not sure what to say.

He said nothing, simply watching her, causing a heavy blush to creep up to her cheeks. Her palms were clammy and her stomach was churning.

If someone had asked her a month ago if she thought she’d not only be married to the boy she’d hated for the last six years, but that she’d be moments away from having sex with him, she’d have laughed in their face, and then promptly gone to throw up.

But now here she was, and she was having mixed feelings about it. 

She kept waiting for him to touch her, to move things forward. She wasn’t sure what to expect, least of all from him. It had been years since she’d last been with a man.

Her one and only experience, like she told Aegon, had required an entire cask of wine. Not that she drank the whole thing herself, but enough that she could barely remember what happened that night. And she had a feeling it was for the best. 

She remembered bits and pieces, and she knew that it had been sweaty, and uncomfortable. It had made her feel dirty. Those boys had been just that: boys. They hadn’t cared about her, or her own pleasure. She hadn’t even exactly said yes. One minute she had been talking to them downstairs, and the next, they were leading her up the stairs to one of the rooms, and she was on her back on the bed.

“Are you alright?” Aemond asked, jarring her from her thoughts. “A moment ago you were blushing, now you’re white as a sheet.”

“I’m fine. Just…nervous, I suppose.”

He pursed his lips, leaning in closer so that his nose grazed her cheek. His hot breath sent a shiver down her back, but she felt a sudden need for him to be even closer.

“Don’t be nervous, Varaena.”

The way he said her name was like a song meant only for her. Despite all his claims of hating her, he said her name with such reverence.

Aemond stepped back, a mischievous grin on his face, his hands going to where his shirt was tucked into his trousers, yanking up on the fabric and pulling it over his head.

The muscles in his back and shoulders flexed as he turned to throw his shirt across the room, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit that her eyes immediately drifted to his chest. Heat flooded through her, and she felt herself start to clench her thighs a bit.

When he turned back to face her, he was still smiling, but not in an arrogant way. It was a reassuring sort of smile, like he was trying to silently tell her everything would be okay.

“I won’t touch you, Varaena,” he promised, much to her surprise. “I swear not to touch you, unless and until you want me to.”

He approached her again, taking her face in hand and swiping a thumb across her cheek.

“And I promise, you will want me to. Like I said, I enjoy a challenge.”

“Is that all I am to you? A challenge?”

He chuckled. “No, you’re not. I swear you are so much more than that. But I’m not about to show my hand just yet.”

He walked over to the bed, throwing back the blankets and climbing in on the left side. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” She questioned, taking a hasty step towards the bed.

“What does it look like? I’m tired, I want to sleep.”

“I’m not sharing a bed with you. I’d rather sleep in the stables.”

“Be my guest,” he smirked at her. “Look, there’s nothing you or I can do about it. We’re married now, for better or worse, so we might as well make the best of it.”

“Just because we’re married does not mean we have to share the same bed,” she argued.

“On the contrary, dear wife, my mother is quite old-fashioned about these things. So long as we remain wed, we will share a bed. Rather hypocritical of her, if you ask me, considering she and my father haven’t actually slept in the same bed since their first year of marriage.”

Varaena crossed her arms and tapped her foot angrily on the ground, considering her options. She supposed she could try to make a run for it, but Daemon would likely physically drag her back, which would be an even worse humiliation. 

“Just get in the bed, Varaena,” Aemond huffed. “I promise not to bite. Well, not yet anyway.”

She rolled her eyes and fought the urge to smack him as she stomped over to the bed and climbed in, pulling the covers over and keeping her arms pressed tightly to her sides. 

His leg brushed against hers and she immediately jerked back, scooching farther over to her side so as to limit physical interaction as much as possible.

“Good night, Varaena,” he whispered after a few minutes of silence.

“Good night, Aemond,” was her quiet reply. “And thank you for–for not…you know.” 

He was silent again for a moment. “You’re welcome.”

The last thing she remembered before her eyes shut and she fell soundly asleep, was the feeling of Aemond’s arm wrapping around her body and holding onto her tightly in his sleep.

And to her surprise, she had never felt safer.

Chapter Text

The first thing she realized when she woke was that she was warm.

Extremely so.

The second thing was that her head was resting on a hard surface, and not the plush, feather pillow she had fallen asleep upon.

Varaena’s eyes drifted open, adjusting to the early morning light as she took a deep breath, and inhaled the scent of sage and smoke.

The scent was familiar, yet not hers, and for a moment, she wondered where it was coming from. Then she remembered the day before. And last night.

Her gaze moved to her left, to find the side of her face and half her chest resting on Aemond’s. One of his arms was wrapped around her waist, clutching her side tightly even in his sleep, while she apparently had thrown one of her legs over his.

His steady breaths, the even rise and fall of his chest, were somehow calming to her.

But wanting to get out of bed and get away from him, she slowly began lifting her leg off him, and shifting it over to the side of the bed. Then, she gently and carefully picked up his hand from her waist, stopping briefly when he moved, lifting it away till it rested on the bed next to her. 

She was careful not to shift the bed too much as she pushed off the blankets and swung her legs over the side, her feet quietly settling on the cold, stone floor. Grabbing her dressing gown from the end of the bed, she slipped it on as she stood up, the bed frame creaking lightly. 

Aemond shifted in his sleep, but quickly turned over and settled on his side, facing her with his arms stretched out where she had just been laying.

She waited a moment, making sure he was still fast asleep, then tiptoed quietly into the closet, where she shimmied out of her nightgown and quickly pulled on her dress and shoes. Not bothering to do anything with her hair, she slowly opened the door, her eyes immediately going to the bed, which was now empty.

Her heart thudded in her chest as she glanced about the room, trying to find Aemond. Unable to spot him, she stepped out of the closet, trying to make as little noise as possible, still searching the room for him. 

She heard a muffled cough coming from the bathing chamber, so she seized the opportunity and made a break for the door, yanking it open and practically leaping out into the hall. 

Varaena took a deep breath, steadying herself, before starting down the steps to the courtyard. Her brothers and Daemon were returning to Dragonstone, and while she couldn’t stand to even think of Daemon, much less stand within a few feet of him, she knew she would regret it if she didn’t say goodbye to her brothers.

She wasn’t sure when she’d get the chance to see them again, considering the current political climate, and her greatest fear was that their next reunion would see them on opposite sides of a bloody war.

“Leaving your bed so soon?” Aegon said teasingly as he came up beside her. “Shame my brother never listened to my advice.”

“And what advice would that be, pray tell?” She snorted.

“Why, how to please a woman, of course. Perhaps if he’d listened, we’d be dragging you both out of bed, instead of you voluntarily leaving so early.”

“Firstly, I doubt you could give useful advice of any kind, much less on what pleasures a woman might enjoy. I doubt you’d know how to bring a woman to completion even if she drew you a very detailed diagram.”

“Would you like to test that theory?” Aegon wiggled his brows.

She gave him a light shove, doing nothing to hide the look of disgust that passed over her face. Despite their burgeoning friendship, she found his advances crude and distasteful. But she had to admit, she might have preferred being shackled to him over his brother. Not that she would ever admit that of course. 

But with the recent thoughts and dreams that had been plaguing her, she was starting to think that she might not feel that way for long.

“While I appreciate the offer, I think I might vomit if I did.”

Aegon chortled, clearly not taking any offence to what she said.

“Secondly, I would rather die than find out whether or not your brother took your advice.”

Aegon gave her a strange look, and she realized her mistake.

“That is to say…I-we-” She stumbled over her words, not quite sure what to say.

“Don’t worry, niece. I shan’t say a word,” he winked at her. “Believe me, I know what it is to be trapped in a marriage that you didn’t want.”

“But Helaena is such a sweet girl,” Varaena defended her. “Surely it can’t be that bad.”

“You’re not wrong, but personally I always found the idea of marrying one’s sibling a bit distasteful. But I had absolutely no choice in the matter.”

Aegon’s face scrunched up a bit in frustration, but it quickly faded to a look of amusement.

“Actually, you and I were almost betrothed. Did you know that?”

Varaena started. “What? You must be joking.”

“If you mean that the way I think you do, I’m highly offended. But, no, I’m not joking. It seems my sister first suggested it shortly after your birth, before the relationship between her and my mother truly soured. I almost feel cheated, don’t you?”

“Thankfully no, I don’t. If there’s anything I should feel cheated about, it’s the fact that I’m now married to your brother instead of-”

She cut herself off before she could finish her sentence, her mouth having run away from her for a moment.

“Instead of who?” Aegon teased.

“No one, I only meant instead of whomever I should choose.”

“Is that so? Are you sure you weren’t about to blurt out the name of a Lord we both know? One who should be on his way back to Winterfell at this very moment, if I’m not mistaken. Sans a white-haired beauty, unfortunately.”

Varaena stopped dead in her tracks, grabbing Aegon by the wrist and holding him. 

“If you speak a word of this to anyone, I swear by all the gods you will find yourself without your favorite appendage.”

But instead of being afraid, Aegon only laughed.

“Have no fear, I’ll keep your secret. I only meant to tease you. In truth, I thought he would have made an interesting match for you. But I’ll say no more on the subject.”

Varaena looked at him curiously, opening her mouth to question him before they were interrupted by one of the Kingsguard.

“Princess, the King requests your presence in his chamber,” the soldier bowed.

“Thank you, ser. I’ll be there presently.” It seemed her brothers would have to wait. For how long, she didn’t know.

The soldier bowed again, before turning back down the hall to return to the King’s chamber.

“Well, I’ll leave you to get on with it, then,” Aegon said awkwardly. 

“Why don’t you come with me?” Varaena offered.

“Because I wasn’t invited. And I’m not altogether sure that my father would wish to see me at the moment.”

“Well I’m inviting you. Honestly, when was the last time you went to see him?”

Aegon merely shrugged, as if the thought had never occurred to him. 

“Whatever his faults, your father does love you, Aegon.”

“Not as much as Rhaenyra ,” he bit out.

“No, I suppose not,” Varaena sighed. “It seems no one can be loved as much as her.”

“And yet somehow she always ends up playing that she’s the martyr, the one to be pitied. ‘Poor Rhaenyra, born a girl, no one loves her.’” 

Varaena laughed a bit. “It’s a skill she’s perfected. Even still, I know the King would be happy to see you. He’s still your father.”

“I’ll think about it,” Aegon muttered. 

“That’s all I ask for.”

She planted a chaste kiss on his cheek, leaving him to find his own amusement while she went off to see the king.

She hadn’t been to see him since before that nightmare dinner. In truth, she hadn’t been able to face him. It was lucky for her that he had been in such poor condition this past week, unable to get out of bed except to use the chamber pot, that he didn’t even realize she hadn’t been there. It was only yesterday that he had started to perk up a little, something which the Queen attributed to the wedding.

The guards opened the doors for her as she approached, bowing their heads in respect.

The room was exceedingly hot, with both fireplaces lit constantly, and the windows almost never being opened. The idiot of a maester claimed that doing so would bring about his death sooner, but given the smell of the room, and how extremely musty it was, she wondered if perhaps it wasn’t the other way around. 

Thankfully, Alicent wasn’t present. Only a maid, who sat in the corner of the room, quietly tending to her sewing, an ever-present helper in case the King should require anything.

Varaena walked silently over to his bedside, his heavy and laboured breathing sending pangs of guilt through her. Despite being angry at him over Aemond, she loved him dearly and regretted the time she had wasted avoiding him. 

“Grandfather?” She whispered, sitting gingerly on the side of the bed.

He didn’t stir, so she reached her hand out, gently stroking his, and speaking a little louder.

This time, his remaining eye fluttered a bit, and his fingers clenched before turning his hand around to grasp hers.

“Varaena,” he croaked.

“I’m here,” she smiled. “I’ll always be here.”

“I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.”

Varaena started to speak but Viserys broke into a coughing fit, so she leaned over to grab his water.

“How are your brothers? Are they enjoying the newest addition, Joffrey?”

“Grandfather, Joffrey is past his fourth nameday. Rhaenyra has already given birth to two other boys, and soon may have another.”

Viserys seemed slightly puzzled by this, his mind struggling to catch up to the time.

“I was married yesterday, do you remember?”

After a moment’s hesitation he wheezed, “Oh yes, I remember now. You and Aemond. You looked so handsome together.”

“Why, grandfather? Why would you put us together?”

He was silent for a while, and she almost wondered if perhaps he didn’t hear her, or was simply ignoring the question.

“I had a dream,” he finally coughed out, “many years ago. The gods told me that you and he would be married. It was fate. Your destinies were intertwined, though they would not show me your endings. Only that you were meant to be.”

“It’s a cruel joke they’ve played on us. He and I could not be more different, more unsuited for each other if we tried.”

“The gods do not always make sense, byka zaldrīzes. But in this matter, I believe them wholeheartedly.”

“But why? I don’t understand, grandfather,” Varaena pleaded. “How can you support taking away my choice? Shackling me to a man who despises me? After what I did to him, he must hate me with every fibre of his being, and now he must spend the rest of his life with me? How is that fair?”

“You do not see what I see, sweet girl. It’s all in the eyes. And I have to believe that this union will save us.”

Varaena wanted to ask more, but Viserys began coughing again, and this time, water didn’t help. The maid came over and gave him another dose of the milk of the poppy. After that, he was too sedated to speak, let alone realize if she was still in the room, so she left quietly, needing some time to herself.

The gardens were conspicuously empty, and offered yet another perfect escape from her family, and everyone else for that matter.

She had just rounded a corner when she saw a familiar length of white hair ahead of her. 

She groaned audibly, attracting the attention of her now husband. He turned to face her, his brows furrowed as he approached.

“I thought I might find you here,” Aemond started.

“No, absolutely not,” she cut him off. “You can’t be here, this is my hiding place.”

“Not much of a hiding place, is it though? You’re in full view of anyone and everyone passing by.”

“That’s not the point,” she snapped. “It’s where you aren’t, so get out.”

Aemond laughed haughtily. “Unfortunately for you, these gardens are open to everyone at court, so, unless you suddenly become queen of the Seven Kingdoms, I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do to change it.”

Varaena visibly seethed, practically shaking with anger, she stomped away, still attempting to flee from him, but with his long stride it took him no time to catch up to her.

“I looked for you this morning,” Aemond said.

“Why would you do that? What in the Seven Hells made you think I would just wait around for you to wake?”

He shrugged. “It seemed the logical thing.”

“In what universe would that be logical? This thing between us is nothing more than an agreement between two sides of a warring family, one which neither of us had any part in. We are not the kind of people to waste away the morning hours, waiting for the other to rise, staring into each other's eyes, dreaming of a better future together. There is no future for us. Whatever chance we might have had was destroyed by the both of us many years ago.”

Aemond was quiet, his face entirely unreadable. Varaena took that as her chance to leave, pushing past him and ducking down another walkway, leaving him behind.

Aemond just stood there for a moment, watching her leave.

“It wasn’t over for me,” he whispered to himself.

Chapter Text

Dinner was a quiet affair.

After a week of calling King’s Landing home once again, she still had not gotten used to seeing the bustling city streets outside her windows instead of the roaring ocean waters. Nor had she gotten used to the “family dinners” Alicent insisted on having.

The king wasn’t well enough to join, though in truth he was hardly ever lucid enough to even recognize his own wife most days. 

Helaena was as silent as ever, though occasionally one might hear the odd mutter pass through her lips, Aegon was deep into his cups, as usual.

Aemond and Varaena, unfortunately sat next to each other, though neither acknowledged the other. Alicent didn’t seem to mind, as it appeared her mind was elsewhere, but the Hand watched them both closely from his seat next to the Queen.

His calculating eyes swept over Varaena, sending a chill down her spine. She hadn’t spoken more than a few words to him since they had left for Dragonstone. That night on Driftmark, she had thought that the mere sound of his voice would send her to an early grave. But now, he studied her with an intensity that made her worry about whatever thoughts might be running through his head. 

“Are you alright, your grace?” Varaen asked Alicent, breaking the steady silence.

Alicent jerked slightly, caught off guard by the question.

“I’m perfectly alright. Why do you ask?”

“You just seem a bit preoccupied, as though you’re worrying over something.”

“Only my usual worries, I’m afraid. The king still hasn’t made any improvement, but he’s also not getting any worse.”

“Surely that’s a good thing?”

“If only, child. It just means that he’s in a constant state of pain, with no clear end in sight. I pray to the gods every day for a quick and easy passing.”

Varaena had heard her mother speak often of her disdain for her father’s marriage to the Queen. She had spent hours speaking on how she believed that Alicent had seduced a grieving man, sinking her claws in at the request of the Hand, and held no real affection for him.

But even Varaena could see that wasn’t true. Perhaps in the beginning, her feelings might have been different. But time, and three children, had won over in the end, and even if it wasn’t a romantic love, Alicent clearly held great affection for her husband.

“Yes, the sooner the old fucker dies, the sooner my sister can take the throne,” Aegon slurred, his wine sloshing about in his goblet as he raised it in a mock toast.

“Aegon!” Alicent gasped. 

“Show some respect for once in your miserable life, boy,” Otto Hightower growled, his fist clenching as it rested on the table. 

Aegon simply snorted and downed the rest of his wine in a single gulp, raising his goblet to signal for a refill.

“I think you’ve had enough,” Otto waved away the approaching servant girl. 

She stood there like a statue for a moment, unsure of who to obey. The Hand may have been a frightening figure, but Aegon was a prince, and, though it was only whispered about, some believed the heir to the throne. She didn’t dare upset her future king. But for now, it seemed her fear of the Hand outweighed her worry for the future, so she slowly backed away, assuming her post against the wall.

Aegon scoffed lightly, clearly frustrated with the turn of events. He stood abruptly, the feet of his chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. 

“If there’s one thing I’ve had enough of, it’s the lot of you. I’ll be in my chambers. If you need anything…” he paused, the alcohol making it hard to form sentences, “don’t look for me.”

He shuffled along towards the door, his feet drunkenly dragging across the floor. Varaena heard him hiccup, before the doors were opened and shut.

Silence fell over the table again, the only sound the clinking of utensils against the solid gold plates.

Varaena refused to meet anyone’s eye, instead, lifting her goblet to her lips and taking a small sip, wondering if she might be able to feign illness in order to get out of this awkward dinner.

She let her gaze drift up, and immediately regretted it. Her eyes met the cold, hard stare of the Hand, his calculating gaze sweeping over her, assessing her, weighing her value, just like he did with everything, and everyone else.

She felt a chill rush down her spine, goosebumps crawling across her skin. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m rather tired,” she said quickly, standing up and pushing back from the table.

Aemond practically shot to his feet, while Otto slowly rose, a slight smirk creeping up on his face. He knew he had gotten to her, knew that a part of her was still afraid.

“Are you feeling alright, my dear? You look a little pale?” Alicent questioned.

“Perfectly fine. Just…didn’t sleep well last night.”

Alicent glanced over to her son, then back to Varaena, her face changing to one of understanding. Varaena’s stomach turned a bit as she realized what Alicent must’ve assumed. But she didn’t have the energy to care at this point.

She fled the room rather quickly, her heels tapping loudly against the stone floor of the empty halls.

“Princess,” a voice called from behind her.

She groaned internally, cursing her luck that he decided to follow.

She turned around to face him. “Yes, Lord Hand?”

“A moment, if you will.”

“What can I do for you?” She plastered on her best smile.

“I wanted to speak to you regarding your family. Your father-forgive me, step father-and brothers left today, did they not? To return to dragonstone?”

“Indeed they did. Did they not say goodbye to you?”

Otto narrowed his eyes for a second, the only tell of his anger at the slight dig.

“Their pleasantries matter not. What I’m concerned about is your relationship with them.”

“Excuse me?” She gave him a bewildered look.

“You’re a part of our family now, as…distasteful as it may be. That means that your alliances cannot remain as they have. You owe your allegiance to my daughter, and grandson.”

“Forgive me, Lord Hand, but you make it sound as though you’re asking me to betray my mother, the heir to the throne . But, surely I’m mistaken. After all, you swore to be loyal to the crown, to my grandfather, and it was he who named my mother heir.”

The muscles in Otto’s jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth. He seemed to be weighing what to say next, what he could get away with saying while the King was still alive, as addled as his mind may be.

“All I’m saying is you never know what the future may hold. You wouldn’t wish for the decisions you make now to come back to haunt you, would you?”

He took a step closer, the glint in his eye reminiscent of the one she had seen in all of Maegor’s portraits.

“Are you threatening me?” she whispered.

“Of course not. I would never threaten you, Princess. I only wish to remind you that sometimes our choices can have terrible consequences.”

He took her wrist, slowly lifting it up and caressing the pale skin that peeked out from under her sleeve. She had to fight the urge not to vomit.

“We wouldn’t want anything to happen to this perfect complexion.”

Her heart stopped beating for a moment, fear taking her captive and threatening to stop the blood flowing altogether.

“Think on what I’ve said,” Otto murmured, before turning back to return to the banquet hall.

Varaena stood frozen there, unsure of what to do, unable to make her feet move, feeling frozen in anxiety and fear. Otto Hightower had threatened her. Maybe not in so many words, but he had done it nonetheless. She expected it from him, but it was still a shock to the system. 

She stood there like a statue till she heard the doors open again, and realized that those who remained at dinner were now leaving. Varaena ran down the hall, ducking around the corner and bracing herself against the wall. 

She took deep, shuddering breaths, her head swimming, unable to process the choice that now lay before her.

She loved her family, despite all of their flaws, all the things they had done to her. She loved them. She was loyal to them.

But she wondered if she really had what it took to remain loyal, even in the face of death. Because that was certainly what she was now facing.

She heard voices approaching, so she slunk further back into the shadows of the alcove, watching as Alicent and Otto passed by, discussing something in hushed tones. They stopped for a moment there in the hall, not realizing she was hiding mere feet away.

“I’m not sure I can go through with this. We’re asking too much of her,” Alicent was saying. 

“She has to make a choice, Alicent. She has to understand that Rhaenyra and Daemon, the bastard princes, aren’t going to make it out of this. She needs to pick a side.”

“How can we ask that of her? That’s her mother, her father, her brothers. We can’t expect her to so easily betray them, even if there’s no hope of them succeeding.”

“Alicent, listen to me. Aegon will be king. Of that, I have no doubt. I’ve already begun discussing it with Viserys, and, with the state he’s in, I don’t think it’ll be difficult to guide him in the direction we want. Once we’ve accomplished that, she’ll see there’s no other choice but to stand behind Aegon. We’re lucky the foolish boy has already begun to make friends with her of his own volition. Should make it a bit easier to coerce her to our side.”

Varaena sucked in a breath, knowing by now that they were talking about her.

“But to knowingly trick her? To make her believe her family doesn’t care? That will break her, father!”

Otto scoffed. “If she’s so easily broken by that then perhaps we should rethink having her on our side.”

“No, I’m certain she’s worthy. Viserys told me his dream, he was so confident in it. And most of his dreams have proven to be true, why shouldn’t this one?”

“I didn’t know you better, Alicent, I might think you were actually coming to care for the girl.”

Alicent was quiet for a moment. “Perhaps I am…”

“Don’t be foolish!” her father hissed. “She is nothing more than a pawn! Don’t your idiotic feelings get in the way!”

“She’s just a child! I cannot help but see myself in her! Rhaenyra, as well.”

“Those memories are long gone, a fool’s dream. There’s no point in dwelling on them, especially with the bitch the way she is now.”

“Don’t…you…dare,” Alicent’s voice trembled, but not from sadness, or fear. From anger. “I may not hold any love for Rhaenyra as she is, but she was still one of my best friends for a time, and she is still my husband’s daughter.”

Alicent strutted away, her father trailing after her, leaving Varaena alone in the darkness. 

When she felt it was safe, she crept slowly out of the alcove, her head whipping around to make sure that the hall was empty, before she tiptoed out into the open.

The walk back to her chambers was a solemn one, her mind racing as it pondered the things she had just heard, and what Otto had said to her earlier.

Alicent had mentioned her being a sort of go between, to determine whether or not Varaena’s mother truly wanted peace, or if it was all a ploy for some darker scheme.

But this made it sound like she had more sinister plans for Varaena. Or at least, the Hand did. Truthfully, it made Varaena feel only slightly better that Alicent seemed to be struggling with whatever plan they had cooked up, with using Varaena in such a way. 

When she reached her chambers, Aemond was nowhere to be seen. Most likely he was off speaking to Aegon, lecturing him yet again on his lack of decorum, much good that would do. A relief to her, she was able to undress and climb into bed in peace. 

But as she curled up under the blankets, tucking her knees in, and pulling the covers over her shoulders for more warmth, she felt a longing buried somewhere deep within her, for that person beside her in bed. Especially on a night like this, where she felt her panic rising on many occasions. As much as she may have hated being married to a man she hated, she had to admit, it was a comfort to have him there next to her when she was sad, or afraid.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there in the dark, the only light being a dim glow from the fireplace. She had drifted in and out of consciousness, until she heard the door creak, opening and closing quietly, and a pair of boots tread lightly across the floor. 

Her eyes fluttered open, landing on the figure slowly approaching the closet door, disappearing inside and reappearing moments later. 

He paused for a moment a few feet away from her side of the bed, before walking around to the other side. The bed dipped under his weight, and the covers shifted as he got settled in. 

Then silence came, the only thing to be heard was that of both their slow breaths.

“What did my grandfather want?” Aemond asked in a low voice.

How he knew she was awake was beyond her.

“Nothing. What makes you think that he would want something?”

“The fact that he followed after you rather quickly and came back with a strange smirk on his face. And when I came to check on you after dinner, I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

Seven hells…

He was nothing if not scrutinizing. 

“Well I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Whatever he wanted, it wasn’t with me. I haven’t seen him sinceI left the table.”

She did her best to play it off, but from his heavy silence it was clear he wasn’t buying it.

“Where did you go, then?”

“I went for a walk, if you must know,” she huffed, turning over on her side to face him. “I didn’t realize my comings and goings were such a big deal to you.”

Aemond shifted over to his side as well, their noses only a few inches from each other, to the point that she could feel his hot breath on her face. 

“Really? Because you weren’t in the gardens, or anywhere in the Red Keep from what I could find.”

Damn. “Perhaps you weren’t looking hard enough, husband .”

“I wouldn’t need to, if you’d stay put for once, wife .”

“I didn’t realize I was a prisoner here,” she growled.

“You must have a really naive view of what imprisonment is like if you think this is it.”

“No, you’re right, this is actually the most free I’ve been in years. And to think all it took was marrying a selfish prick. If I’d known that was all that was needed for escape, I would’ve done it far sooner.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” The curiosity in Aemond’s voice made her want to eat her words.

She hadn’t realized he would take it seriously, or else she never would have spoken.

“Varaena? What did you mean by that?”

She let out a huff before climbing out of bed and walking over to the little table by the chaise in the foyer, upon which rested a pitcher of wine and two glasses. 

Varaena poured some for herself and downed it quickly, hoping that perhaps if she just avoided answering the question, he would let it go. But she knew he never would. As soon as he got ahold of something, he never let it go, much like a dog with a bone. He would gnaw at it till it finally gave in or gave up. 

“Varaena, I asked you a question,” Aemond rose swiftly from his place in bed, his voice quieter, but just as fierce. It sent a chill through her.

“What do you want me to say, Aemond? That I would rather have married a wrinkled, lecherous, old fucker at fifteen than stayed on Dragonstone for another day if I could have? Does that satisfy you?” 

The blood crept up to her cheeks, staining them red, but it wasn’t from embarrassment. It was anger. 

“I don’t understand. I thought you were happy on Dragonstone.”

“You poor, foolish boy. Why in the Seven Hells would I be happy there? I was stuck on a fucking island with my fucked up mother, and man who looks down on me like a fucking child, but will never claim me as his own!”

Aemond snorted. “At least you had your bastard brothers. I’m sure they made for good company.”

“Oh, yes, let’s not forget my perfect brothers, who can do no wrong in my mother’s eyes. The ones who came from a relationship with a man she loved deeply, who didn’t abandon her, didn’t ignore the child they created, who treated her with respect and didn’t break her heart.”

“Are you actually admitting the truth?” His eyes rose in surprise.

“Why the fuck not? Everyone knows it, and have known it for years! It was only out of blind loyalty and love for my family that I kept quiet. But seeing as they’ve now thrown me to the fucking wolves, why not let it out!”

She clenched her fists tightly before continuing. “He may love her, as I’m sure he always has, but I have always known that she has hated me for what I represented. That one night that she had with the man she loved, before he left her behind to a fate she dreaded.”

There was a long pause, then Aemond took a step toward her, reaching out as if to comfort her. She immediately stepped back, keeping out of reach.

“Don’t, just…please don’t.” 

Varaena turned and practically ran for the door, shooting out into the hall, past the confused guards, who looked back to see their prince standing in the doorway watching her.

She knew where she was going the moment she opened those doors. And when she knocked on his own door a few minutes later, he opened it and let her in without hesitation.

“Tell me,” Aegon said as he poured her a glass of wine, “what has my brother done now?”

Varane took the glass gratefully, turning her face back to the fire in front of her, while Aegon sat down next to her.

“He hasn’t done anything. Not this time, anyway. He just…we started to argue a bit, and I made an offhanded comment, and, like he always does, he wouldn’t let it go. It wasn’t his fault. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Well what did you say?”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “It wasn’t anything really, just a joke about my childhood on Dragonstone. I didn’t think he’d take it seriously, but he did, and it led into deeper territory than I wanted to go.”

Aegon looked over at her. “Was it really so bad? I always thought you loved it there.”

“When my father was still alive, perhaps,” she snorted. “He made it easier to be there.”

“Your father, eh? Is he not in the castle at this very moment? Most likely in the embrace of your beloved mother?”

“Don’t patronize me. He has never been my father, no matter what blood we may share. Laenor was my father, and always shall be.”

“Is that why Daemon didn’t walk you down the aisle? Or why it was Jace who stood for you at the ceremony? Many people were shocked at that, my mother included.”

“Yes,” she bit out. “The last thing I was going to do, on a day that I was already dreading, was have a man who I had spent my entire life loathing walk me down the aisle to marry a man he knew I couldn’t stand, but promised me to anyway. As if my thoughts and feelings didn’t matter.”

They were both silent for a moment, a bit of a role reversal happening as Aegon sipped his wine, while Varaena drank hers in a single gulp and poured herself another.

“It wouldn’t have happened if Laenor was still alive,” Varaena spoke. “My mother was better with him. Less harsh, and perfectionistic. Less demanding and demeaning. He kept her somewhat sane, as did Ser Harwin, I’m sure. Laenor was kind, gentle, and compassionate. He never would have disregarded my feelings and wishes simply for his own gain. He would never have used me as a pawn, not like my mother has. Though she did that even when he was alive.”

Aegon seemed slightly taken aback. Like many others, he had teased her and her brothers about their true parentage, calling them all bastards many times, but never had she or another member of her family admitted the truth. But, like she had told Aemond, there seemed no point in hiding it anymore. The only one who could protect them was the king and he was at death’s door.

“Varaena, what has she been doing?” Aegon asked.

“Are you truly that blind? I mean no offense, truly, but it’s blatantly obvious I thought,” she chuckled. “Your mother and mine have been at odds since the day the King announced his intention to marry Alicent Hightower, my mother’s companion and best friend. But it only worsened on the day you were born. My mother, who had been named Heir, now faced a challenger in the male heir the king had been so desperately trying for for years. And even though he never changed his mind, she still worried about it, while your mother and her father plotted to ensure your succession.”

“I hardly think my mother has been plotting, as you put it.”

“Trust me, she has. Time has only grown that divide, especially as myself and my brothers were born, looking nothing like Laenor, and your mother seemed to take it as a personal offence. Then there was that night on-on Driftmark, which I doubt she has ever moved past. And now, with the king dying, everyone is making their plans and setting things in motion, preparing for the war that is surely to come.”

“Do you truly think there will be a war?” Aegon’s voice came as a hoarse whisper.

“Unfortunately I do. The Hand is desperate to see you on the throne, and I know him to be a dangerous enemy, and my mother will stop at nothing to take her rightful place after the King passes. I’m afraid it could get ugly. But, in the meantime, I have been sent to watch and listen, and report back everything that can be used against all of you to my family on Dragonstone, and, conversely, have been asked by your mother, and grandfather, to betray said family and spy on them.”

Varaena fell back against the couch, crossing her arms over her chest in frustration.

“Let me see if I understand this,” Aegon began. “It’s more than likely there’ll be a war, given just how desperately each side wants to see their chosen ruler on the throne, and in an effort to win said war, each side has asked you to spy on the other, thereby pitting you against your parents and your siblings, as well as your now husband and his parents and siblings. Is that correct?”

She nodded weakly, exhausted at just hearing it repeated back to her.

“Well fuck me,” he sighed, mimicking her actions of falling back against his seat. “So, is that why you were married to my brother? Because both sides hoped that it would put you in the perfect position to spy?”

“Yes. My mother and Daemon hoped that it would put me in the middle of the action. That by marrying him, I could convince Otto and your mother that I was loyal to them, and gain their trust, then use it against them to glean whatever information I could that could be used against them. Your mother and Otto hoped that marrying me to Aemond would force me to choose a side, preferably theirs, and that by having me as an ally, I would be useful in the coming war as an informant and possible spy who could infiltrate my mother’s side because I am her daughter after all.”

“That seems a bit-”

“Insane? Yes, I should think so.”

“I was going to say foolish, but, yes, insane works too. But wouldn’t both sides be expecting this? I mean if your parents did this in order to put you in the perfect position to spy, would they not then expect my mother to be doing this for the same reason?”

“I suppose so. I hadn’t really thought about it before. But that almost makes it worse.”

“How so?”

“Well,” she cleared her throat, “if I were to be caught spying for either one, and the other side won, I could be arrested for treason and executed, which means that neither side cares what happens to me, so long as they get what they want. I supposed I should have expected that, but it still stings.”

“Of course it does!” Aegon laughed with disbelief. “Rhaenyra is your mother, which would make the betrayal all the worse, and, whatever your relationship with my mother might be, to think that she had planned all of this just to use and discard you would be equally as hurtful. My question is, why not tell any of this to Aemond?”

Varaena started. “I-I don’t know, really. Your brother and I have a rather love-hate relationship, always have. But now…I don’t really know what to make of it. He’s acting so strange about our current predicament, as though he’s enjoying being married to me simply because I hate it. Which isn’t all that surprising, except that it means he’s in a rather loathsome position himself. Considering he has told me on multiple occasions that he’d rather pitch himself off the highest tower in the Red Keep than be married to me, it’s rather surprising that he’s taking this all in stride.”

Aegon snorted. “Sounds like my brother, the little prick. Well, how do you feel about him?”

She pondered his question for a moment. “Honestly? I’m not sure anymore. If you had asked me a year ago, I would have said I detested him with every fibre of my being. But, being back here, being with him, it almost feels like when we were kids. Before everything happened. He’s changed, and I think it’s for the better. Although he’s still such a mystery, I’m having a hard time figuring it out.”

“Do you honestly regret marrying him?”

“I don’t think so. I mean, I regret the reasons for why it happened, but I don’t think I regret the marriage itself, though not for the reasons you might think. I’m grateful that it at least got me away from Dragonstone, and my family. That it’s awarded me some semblance of freedom. And I’m grateful that of all people, it’s Aemond. Though he’s been a bloody prick to me in the past, and still is at times, he’s been a gentleman in all other respects. And that’s all I can really ask for, I suppose.

“Sounds to me like you're second-guessing your feelings,” Aegon clucked.

“Oh shut up. There is nothing going on between myself and Aemond, and there hasn’t been for many years, if ever there was. I doubt there ever will be.”

“You say that, but everything else you’ve been saying leads me to believe that you wouldn’t mind it if there was. You might even actually desire it.”

Varaena was silent, which made him laugh.

“My advice is let nature run its course. Not that I’m advocating for you to fuck him or suddenly profess your undying love for the little shit. But perhaps it’s best to just wait and see what happens.”

“When did you get so wise?” Varaena chuckled. 

“I always have been. I’m just usually too drunk for anyone to notice.”

This sent them both into fits of laughter, and after the wheezing had stopped they sat in the quiet once again, until a sudden thought came to Aegon.

“Does your hesitation have to do with whatever happened on Driftmark?”

Varaena’s mouth actually dropped open. She certainly had not been expecting that question.

“What the fuck gave you that idea?”

“The fact that neither of you will discuss it or tell anyone the truth of what happened, no matter that Lucerys confessed to it. And the fact that when you brought it up just now, you seemed to stumble a bit, thinking that whatever it was that happened is the reason why Aemond must hate you, and could never, and would never, have any sort of affection for you.”

If you must know,” she sighed,” yes, it does play a very big part in it.”

“What in the Seven Hells happened that night?” Aegon asked, getting tired of having to do so.

“I think that might be a story for another night, Aegon. One in which we’ve had much more wine, and I’m not ready to pass out from exhaustion.”

Aegon just looked at her, most likely deciding whether or not he wanted to keep pushing her. In the end, he must have decided not to, knowing her and how she hated to be pressed.

“Well, you’re welcome to sleep here,” he gestured around to his bed.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea…” she spoke slowly.

“Don’t I’ll be a perfect gentleman for once. You can take my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“But what about Helaena?”

Aegon waved his hand. “She sleeps in her own chamber. Always has. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

“I hope you don’t get too offended by this, Aegon, but you really don’t deserve her.”

“I know. Believe me I know.”

Chapter Text

Aemond’s POV

He had paced back and forth for hours, waiting for her to return, to explain, but she never did. A few times, he had debated going after her, but he decided that would probably end up doing more harm than good. 

This woman infuriated him to no end. He couldn’t make sense of her. One minute she was kind, and compassionate, the next, she was likely to strangle him or chop off his balls for saying the wrong thing. 

But that was just how he remembered her.

He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her till they had been reunited just a few months ago. Before then, he hadn’t seen her since they were eleven, back when she was just a scrawny little thing. But she was still beautiful. She always had been.

But now she was a fucking dream. 

Or a nightmare. He wasn’t entirely sure yet.

He had convinced himself that this was just a game, just him trying to get under her skin, a sort of revenge for what she did to him. But the truth was that he had forgiven her a long time ago. If he was being completely honest, he hadn’t even really been angry that night. More shocked and hurt than anything else. But he had understood. Which was why he hadn’t said anything when his mother asked for the truth. And what happened after wasn’t entirely his fault. His mother made an assumption, but he just went with it. So did she, and her bastard brothers, though he could see the guilt and shame in her eyes, the desire to speak up about it.

And now…

Now she had sunk her claws into him, and there was no going back. She was completely intoxicating, like a heady potion he couldn’t get enough of. And his desire to protect her had returned, stronger than ever, though she probably didn’t realize. He had gotten quite good at hiding his emotions over the years.

She, however, apparently hadn’t. It was evident that she was still angry with him over something, but he wasn’t entirely sure what. It was true they had argued before she and her family left for Dragonstone, and, apart from that night on Driftmark, they hadn’t seen or spoken to each other up until a few months ago, but he wondered if she could still possibly be mad about that. It seemed unlikely, but with her, anything was possible. 

He paced around some more, now starting to get frustrated with her. It was childish, in his mind, to just storm off in the middle of a discussion, just because there’s something you don’t wish to discuss.

Finally he reached a point where he could hardly keep his eyes open. It had been a long day, between his grandfather telling him he needed to get control of his wife, his mother pestering him about how Varaena was truly doing, and also about what his brother was doing, and then having to deal with a drunk Aegon, he was exhausted. Fighting with Varaena only made it worse.

He hated fighting with her.

Resolved to continue their conversation in the morning, he finally climbed back into bed. 

But he didn’t sleep. 

He just lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling, glancing every so often to the door, then the empty space beside him, then back to the ceiling.

It was a rough night for him, and morning came all too soon. 

The crowing of the roosters in the distance, and the faint glow of morning sun peeking through the windows told him it was time to get up. He couldn’t bear to lay in bed a second longer, especially if he wasn’t able to sleep. 

The servants brought him a bath, which helped to relieve some of the stress and the painful aches, but did nothing to relieve the pain around his heart. 

Damn his heart.

Having dressed for the day, and wishing to find Varaena, he racked his brain to think of where he might find her.

There were only a few places she could be. It was either the gardens, his father’s chamber, the beach. She had been known to wander there a few times, saying she wanted to feel closer to her father.

Aemond made his way to his father’s chamber, figuring since it was closer, better to check there first. But he was reluctant to go in.

Much like his brother, he had rarely been even within a few yards of these rooms, not wishing to spend any more time than necessary with his father. There wasn’t much love lost between the two.

He had barely approached the doors when they opened, revealing his mother and grandfather. Alicent looked at him in mild disbelief, which came as no surprise as he almost never came here, despite her relentless pleading.

“Oh! Aemond! What a pleasant surprise,” Alicent smiled at her son. “Are you coming to see your father?”

“Well, actually I-”

“Because you know he would really love to see you. He asks after you all the time.”

Aemond said nothing, but Alicent looked at him expectantly, waiting for his response. Knowing his mother, now that he was here, she would not be satisfied until he had gone in for at least a few minutes.

“Very well,” he grumbled. “But I can’t stay long.

Alicent was practically beaming as she stepped aside and made for her son to enter, his feet almost shuffling on the ground.

“I’ll be along in a moment, Alicent,” Otto ushered his daughter down the hall before going back inside the king’s chambers. 

“Is there something you wanted?” Aemond asked in a bored tone.

Otto shot him a glare. “Show some respect, boy. I always thought you better than brother.”

Aemond rolled his eyes. “Pardon me, is there something you wanted my Lord Hand ?” He put extra emphasis on the last few words.

This certainly did not help matters. Otto clenched his jaw tightly, obviously straining to not let his anger get the better of him, especially with the King in the other room. 

“Whatever the king tells you,” Otto diverted, “I want you to come and tell me.”

“You want me to come and inform you of a private conversation between myself and my father, the king?”

“There are no private conversations with him anymore. In his last days, anything he says could be counted as last wishes. Anything we might need to know could be said at any moment, and it’s best for us to be informed.”

“If it’s something of great importance, I’ll be sure to tell my mother, the Queen . If she feels it necessary, she may tell you.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Otto disagreed. “Your mother has enough on her mind without having to worry about any of the last ramblings of a dying man. I don’t wish to burden her any further.”

Aemond regarded his grandfather carefully. As a child he had looked up to the man greatly, often believing him to be above reproach, smarter and stronger than his own father. But the older he got, the more he saw Otto for who he truly was. 

A power-hungry, greedy man, who wasn’t above using those closest to him to get what he wanted. And what he wanted more than anything was the throne, in whatever manner possible. It was why he had pushed his only daughter into the arms of a man twice her age, because it meant she would get the throne, and by default so would he. 

Not only that, but he had begun to suspect that Otto had had some hand in the divide between himself and Varaena over the years, and even recently, he was sure that Otto had been saying or doing something to Varaena to cause her to act the way she had been.

“Of course, Otto,” Aemond plastered on a placative smile. “If he should say anything of importance to you, I will come and inform you myself.”

Otto bowed his head in thanks, leaving Aemond alone in the king’s chambers.

He felt a tremor course through himself, stopping his heart for a brief moment. As he approached the king’s bed, he felt sure he had stopped breathing too.

The king lay there, his arms stretched out by his sides, his mouth hanging open while his eye remained closed. The slow but steady rise and fall of his chest was the only way to tell he was still alive.

When he had taken a few more steps closer, it was almost as if the king had sensed another presence, because his remaining good eye slowly peeled open, and his withered face broke into a painful smile.

“Aemond,” he croaked. 

“Hello, father,” was Aemond’s stiff reply.

“Come, sit, my boy. Let me get a good look at you.”

It was evident that every word spoken was agony for him, and yet he seemed happy to feel it if it meant having a conversation with one of his beloved children.

“How are you, my son? All is well, I hope?”

“Perfectly satisfactory, father.”

“Satisfactory? Not quite the answer I expected from someone recently married,” Viserys chuckled, which caused him to break out into a coughing fit.

Aemond fetched him a glass of water. “Well, considering it wasn’t my idea, I should think satisfactory is a perfectly acceptable answer.”

“You sound upset, Aemond.”

“I don’t understand you father. How could you do this to us? To her? To me?”

Viserys laughed again, and, thankfully, this time he didn’t cough too hard. 

“She asked me much the same question, you know.”

“What did you say to her?”

“I told her that it was a dream I had. One in which the gods told me that it was meant to be. Destinies intertwined, an unavoidable fate.”

Aemond scoffed, not buying into that for one second. He opened his mouth to speak, but Viserys continued.

“Even if I had not, I have, or rather, had , eyes, my son. Perhaps others were blind to it, but not I.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Aemond played dumb.

“You look at her much the same way as I did my dear Aemma. You know, she is a perfect likeness of Aemma. Almost her reincarnate.”

Trying to ignore what Viserys was implying, his heart did sink a little to hear his father speak so fondly of his first wife over his own mother.

“It has been clear to me from the time you were both children that she held a special place in your heart, though you would have been loath to admit it. Perhaps even still. And she, well…best to leave that for you to work out.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Aemond’s patience was growing thin.

“She needs you, Aemond. She won’t admit it, the gods know she would rather die. But she needs you desperately. She is a broken girl, who needs love. And however long it takes, I know you can give it to her. And besides that, I believe that you being by her side will help her when the time comes.”

“When the time comes for what?”

Viserys began coughing again, particles of blood spitting out and onto the white linens. Aemond quickly fetched a rag to wipe his father’s lips, as well as his water glass again.

When he had settled down, he finally said, “Let me tell you about another dream I had. One I believe could change the course of the kingdoms.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Aemond left his father’s chambers an hour later, he felt the shock still coursing through him. The conversation had taken a turn he had not expected, and his mind was still trying to process it all. 

His talk with Otto beforehand came back to him, and he knew that this was the kind of thing Otto was hoping to glean from the supposedly “mad” king. He also knew that he could never tell Otto, lest he wanted to put her in danger. 

That thought reminded him of why he had gone to see his father in the first place. He still had not seen Varaena all morning. But it would have to wait. For now, he needed to speak with his brother.

Setting off at a brisk pace, he made his way to his brother’s chambers on the other side of the Keep. 

The corridor was empty as Aegon had requested that the guards keep a safe distance away from his chamber doors. And yet, he could hear voices. Raised voices, as though someone were having an argument.

At first, he couldn’t figure out where they were coming from. But the closer he got to Aegon’s doors, he realized that they were coming from the other side. He could make out his brother’s voice, but the other, the female, he couldn’t quite discern.

Assuming it was their mother, he felt it was safe to knock, his knuckles rapping on the door loudly.

The voices immediately ceased, a brief pause, before the door was yanked open, revealing an irate Aegon.

“What?” he snapped, his brow still furrowed and his eyes still bleeding with anger.

“Pardon the interruption,” Aemond said smugly, “but I wondered if-”

His sentence broke off as his gaze drifted past his brother, to the other person in the room. 

It was Varaena.

She stood by the fireplace, her arms crossed in front of her chest, over the nightgown she had been wearing last night. And her hair, which had been fairly neat and tidy as well, now looked ruffled.

Aemond’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, his voice dripping with accusation.

Aegon actually seemed confused for a moment. He turned to follow his brother’s gaze, a look of understanding finally crossing his face once he landed on Varaena, who still scowled at him, clearly ready to argue some more.

“Nothing,” Aegon replied quickly. A bit too quickly for his liking.

“Is that so?” Aemond turned to Varaena. “How long have you been here?”

He had a feeling he knew the answer, but he still wanted to hear it.

“Does it matter?” she scoffed. “What do you want?”

“Well, I had come here with something else in mind, but now I’m more interested to know why you’re standing in my brother’s chambers, wearing nothing but your nightgown, looking as though you’ve only just awoken. And I’m also curious as to what the two of you were arguing about.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to be sorely disappointed, then,” was her curt reply.

She moved toward the door, prepared to leave, but Aegon got in her way.

“This conversation isn’t over,” he warned.

She huffed in annoyance, making Aemond all the more curious as to what they’d been fighting about. But instead of getting to hear an explanation, she just brushed past the both of them, out into the hall.

Aegon turned to his brother. “So, what did you need?”

“What the fuck was she doing in here?” Aemond growled.

“What did it look like? We were talking!”

“Really? Because it looked to me like perhaps she’d slept here!”

“And? So what if she did?”

Aemond’s face grew hot in anger, and perhaps even a twinge of jealousy if he was being honest. 

“Keep your filthy fucking hands off her, Aegon. She’s off limits.”

Aegon smirked, realizing his brother was getting angry over the insinuation of what they might have been up to.

“The girl’s got to get her frustration out somewhere, don’t you think? Especially if you’re not up to the task.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before a fist connected with his jaw. Aemond cursed himself silently, reminding himself he needed to get better control of his temper. But fuck it felt good to do that.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Aegon,” he barked, his fists still clenched, his whole body language telling Aegon that he would be more than happy to do more than just throw a punch.

“I knew it,” Aegon wheezed from where he had fallen to the floor. “I fucking knew it.”

“Knew what?” His brother demanded.

“You’re in love with her, you fucking prick.”

Aegon unsteadily rose to his feet, wiping a thin stream of blood from his nose and mouth. His face broke into a grin as he eyed his brother with an arrogant look, as if he was the smartest in the room.

“I suspected it for a long time, but considering you hadn’t seen each other in years it was hard to tell at first. But, Seven Hells, it was written all over your face the day you married her. It was so fucking awkward, watching you watching her. I almost wanted to kill myself.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Aemond tried to deny it.

“Don’t bother,” Aegon chuckled. “If I didn’t know then, I certainly know now. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you react so recklessly over a mere joke, especially one I’m sure I’ve made countless times.”

“She’s my wife, Aegon. It doesn’t matter if you think I have any romantic inclination for her, it’s my duty to protect her honour.”

“I’m not stupid, Aemond.”

“Are you entirely sure about that?”

Aegon glared at his brother. “I have eyes, as well. You should consider yourself lucky it was me who noticed, and not someone else. Someone like grandfather perhaps.”

Aemond was silent for a moment, the logical part of himself being forced to admit that Aegon was right.

“If you say a single word of this to anyone, I’ll-”

“Yes, yes, you’ll chop off my balls and feed them to me. I know, you’ve given me the speech before. I promise, not a word to anyone. Although I do think you should say something to her.”

Aemond shook his head. “Even if I thought it would change anything, there’s still no point in it. Her family and ours are at odds. There is no outcome in which we survive this together.”

“I think you’re being a bit too pessimistic, but who am I to judge?”

Aegon walked over to the mantelpiece above his fireplace and grabbed an unfinished glass of wine that had been left there, downing it all in a quick gulp.

“What were the two of you arguing about before I came in?” Aemond asked, turning to his brother again.

“I’m afraid I can’t say.”

“Aegon…”

“Truly, brother. She’s sworn me to secrecy, and I respect her. Not only that, but I think she might actually scare me a bit more than you.”

Aemond let out a huff. He supposed he would just have to find out from Varaena herself.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Aegon remembered.

“What? Oh…nothing. It doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you later.”

Aemond stormed off, ignoring Aegon’s chuckle behind him, heading towards his and Varaena’s chambers, where he assumed she’d be, but he didn’t get very far before he was accosted by his grandfather.

“Aemond, a moment? Your mother and I wish to speak to you.”

Otto didn’t wait for a response, turning back down the hall towards his study. Aemond glanced in the direction he had been going, weighing his options, before deciding it was best if he just did as Otto asked.

His mother and grandfather were waiting for him when he finally entered the study, Alicent’s arms folded over her chest, a weary look on her face.

“What did you want to speak to me about?”

“Come here, my boy,” Otto beckoned. “There’s a matter of great importance we need to discuss.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about the line of succession,” Alicent spoke up.

“I’m not sure I completely understand-”

“Be silent for a moment,” Otto hushed him. “Your mother and I have been discussing what will happen after the passing of the King. As we all know, Viserys named Rhaenyra his heir before the court over twenty years ago, but that was before he had a son. For whatever reason, he never rectified the situation. But, your mother and I both feel that it’s important to get the King’s final word on the subject, now that he is no longer under Rhaenyra’s influence.”

Aemond did his best to school his features, trying to hide his disbelief.

“The king gave his final word when he went before the people and named my sister his heir,” Aemond stated. “If he never spoke otherwise, perhaps it’s because he did not wish to.”

“And I hope that is truly the case, my son,” Alicent placed a soothing hand on his arm. “As much as I do not relish the thought of Rhaenyra as queen, if it is truly the wish of the king, I will not fight it. But I should like to know the truth, given that Rhaenyra has been gone for some time, and therefore unable to poison his mind.”

“Do you truly believe that’s what she’s been doing?”

“Of course she has. She has been doing that to many members of the court for years, trying to turn them against your mother,” Otto argued. “And she has done it to the king, keeping his mind from understanding that he has a son, the proper heir.”

“I know, it is hard to believe,” Alicent interjected. “I still struggle to rectify the girl I once knew with the woman I know now.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because we’re hoping you can speak to Varaena. She has the ear of the king, and she spends a great deal of time with him. We have tried and failed to ascertain the truth from him, but perhaps she can.”

“So, you wish for me to ask Varaena, my wife, to spy for you?”

“It’s not spying, dear, it’s simply…checking the facts,” his mother placated.

Aemond looked back and forth between the two. “I’m not sure I can agree to this.”

“Put aside your silly little emotions, boy,” Otto gritted his teeth. “You’re too old to be letting them have such a hold on you. Now, go out there and ask her, or I will make sure you regret it.”

“Father!” Alicent scolded.

“Be silent, Alicent! The boy must learn his place, as you did!” Her father barked.

Alicent averted her gaze, her hands dropping to her sides in defeat. Aemond hated the hold Otto had over his mother. The domineering cunt had never let her have a thought of her own.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to find another puppet, grandfather. I refuse.”

Without another word, he turned and left the room.

—-------------------------------------------------------

He almost didn’t see her when he returned to their chambers. By that point, the sky had grown dark, the moon hardly giving off any light. Aemond had looked for her earlier, but been unable to find her, so he resolved to find her later as he had things he had to attend to. He had practically burst through the doors, his eyes scanning the rooms for her. He had glanced right past her before doubling back when he realized that was her standing on the balcony.

She turned to look at the sound of his entrance, her face instantly hardening as she walked back inside, completely ignoring him.

“Varaena,” he sighed, but she said nothing.

She instead moved over to a rather large bookshelf in the front room, choosing a random book, and plopping down in a chair by the blazing fireplace.

“Varaena,” Aemond repeated more firmly, still trying to get her to look at him.

Varaena flicked through the pages of the book rather forcefully. It surprised him that she didn’t tear every single one. 

“Will you look at me?”

Varaena paused, finally looking up at him for a brief second, before casting her gaze back to her book, which he could tell she wasn’t even reading. It was more of an excuse to avoid him.

“I’m serious, Varaena. We need to talk about last night.”

“I don’t believe so,” she replied calmly. “I’m sure we’ve already said everything that needs to be said.”

“No, we really haven’t.”

“What do you want from me, Aemond? I’m sure that no matter what I tell you, you’ll never be satisfied.”

“This isn’t about me being satisfied, Varaena, this is about you being honest for once in your fucking life.”

She scoffed. “When have I ever not been honest?”

“How about every hour of every day?” He walked around to the front of her chair to face her. “You live in this constant lie that you’re fine, that everything’s okay, that you’re happy, or at least happy enough, but none of that is true. You just can’t bear to admit that to yourself.”

“You got all of that from five minutes of conversation last night?” Varaena looked at him, her face full of wariness.

“Not just that. I’ve been watching you for years, the way that you are with your family. Even as a child, it was clear to me you had issues, but they’ve only worsened in the time since Driftmark. And now, I’m sure it’s blatantly obvious to everyone else as well that whatever relationship you were still clinging to with your family is hanging on by a thread, ready to snap at any moment.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shook her head, finally rising from her seat and pushing past him.

She strode over to the closet, wrenching open the door and walking inside, stepping out a few moments later with her nightgown and a few dresses in hand. 

“What are you doing, Varaena?” He walked over to her.

“I’m moving to a different chamber. I don’t give a fuck what your mother, or anyone else thinks, I refuse to spend another night here with you.”

“So that’s it? One conversation you don’t like, and you run? It’s no wonder your relationships with your family have gotten so terrible if you don’t know how to defend yourself,” he laughed harshly.

She didn’t hesitate, didn’t think twice when she walked over to him in two great strides and smacked his cheek. Hard. 

“You say one more word about my family and I will kill you myself,” Varaena growled.

“Why do you defend them? They have done nothing right by you!” Aemond shouted, completely in disbelief over her choice to still protect them.

She didn’t respond, but there was a slight shift in her eyes, something almost imperceptible, except to he who had studied her so well he could sense the change.

“You’re not protecting them, are you?” He whispered. “You’re protecting yourself.”

Varaena still refused to say anything, neither confirming nor denying it. But that was response enough for Aemond.

“Varaena, what did they do that caused such irreparable damage?”

“As if I would ever tell you,” was her curt reply.

“You won’t tell me, but you’ll tell Aegon, is that it?”

“What makes you think I told him anything?”

“He all but admitted that you did. And even if he hadn’t, I heard the two of you arguing. Not that I could make out a single word, because of fucking course I couldn’t.”

“That fucking prick,” she gritted her teeth.

“He didn’t tell me anything, if that’s what you think. For once my brother is actually keeping his promise. But I cannot understand how you can tell him, and you cannot tell me. After all, he isn’t your husband.”

“That means absolutely nothing, and you know it. This is nothing more than a contract our parents made up for whatever fucked up reason. And if you think that entitles you to know all of my secrets, then you are a bigger idiot than I thought.”

“It’s not about feeling entitled! I just-I care about you!”

“Oh really? When have you ever cared about me?” she raged.

“I always cared about you! You were just too wrapped up in your family drama to understand that!”

“So every time you called me a dirty bastard, you still cared about me? What about when you called me a whore, did you care about me then? Every time you offended my family, told me you’d rather die than marry me, that I’d get what was coming to me. Were those just twisted jokes? Are you just that inept at showing any kind of emotion besides indifference or hatred?”

“I have no excuse for my actions, but you can’t honestly say you are without reproach.”

Aemond took a step closer to her, a dark look overtaking his features.

“Do you remember this?” He touched his eyepatch lightly. “This was far worse than anything I did or said to you.”

Varaena instantly paled at the memory of that night. The breath was knocked out of her lungs for a moment.

“I never once claimed to be innocent,” she whispered. “The gods know I’ve got blood on my hands.”

Aemond wondered what exactly she meant, because he had a feeling she wasn’t simply referring to Driftmark. But before he could ask, she gave herself a little shake and steered back to the original point.

“But right now I’m pissed at you. I’m pissed that you think I’m obligated to tell you things because you care about me! Caring about someone does not mean they owe you anything! If that were true, we wouldn’t even be here right now!”

“Why won’t you just tell me? I’m not trying to make things worse, I just want to help you!”

“But you can’t help me, Aemond!” She splayed her hands in front of her. “There is nothing you can do!”

“How do you know?” He argued.

“Because I’ve already fucking tried!” Varaena screamed. “And what do you think it got me? Nothing but a broken wrist and broken heart!

She gasped lightly as her words sunk in, and he knew she had said more than she meant, having gotten caught up in the moment. His mind suddenly went back to that night in the gardens, just after they’d been told they were to wed, when the sleeve of her dress had ridden up, and he’d caught sight of a hand-shaped set of bruises across her forearm.

He had asked her about it then, but she had brushed him off just as she was trying to do now. But he wasn’t about to let her, not this time.

“Who did it?” was all he asked.

She shook her head, clearly not wanting to tell him. But he kept pushing. 

“Who…the fuck…did it?” His voice was low, so ferocious, it scared her a little.

“Who do you think?” She chuckled sadly. “Who in the world could possibly be angry enough that he might react in such a way?”

Aemond knew the answer instantly. And it made him even more enraged.

“That fucker. I’m going to kill him,” Aemoned seethed.

“You absolutely will not!”

“Why the fuck not? After what he’s done to you? I should have his head stuck on a pike on the city gates!”

“Aemond! Please!” she begged him.

“Why do you allow him to get away with this?”

“I-I’m not allowing him to get away with it, I just-I-”

“You’re a fucking coward. You don’t have the balls to say anything to him, you just let him use and abuse you.”

“I’m not a coward! But I’m also not a fucking idiot! You saw what he did to Vaemond!”

“That’s different! You’re his daughter!”

“Which makes no difference to him, apparently!” She shook her head lightly. “I’m not a coward, Aemond. But…I am scared of him. You haven’t seen what I’ve seen. You don’t know what he’s like when he’s truly angry.”

“But doesn’t your mother defend you? What about your brothers?”

“My mother probably thinks I deserve it. I don’t remember the last time she cared enough to stop him. My mother hasn’t cared about me for years.”

“Well, what about those fools you call brothers? I thought you were rather close,” he rolled his eyes.

“My brothers are probably afraid he’ll turn on them. And I couldn’t ask them to do that for me.”

“They can handle it, I’m sure. It’s not your job to keep them safe.”

“On the contrary, according to my mother it is. That’s all I’ve done for years. It’s become a force of habit I suppose. While my mother spent her time with Ser Harwin, or Daemon, doing whatever she pleased, while I watched them, took care of them. I was the silent keeper, the one who held it all together, and it was never enough for her.”

There was a twinge of bitterness beneath all the sadness in her voice, and he could see the gleaming of tears at the corners of her eyes. “I was a constant reminder of what she lost. And even after she and Daemon married, I was still a reminder of the night he left her. And she could never forget that.”

Aemond felt his heart ache a little at the thought, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. 

“I just…I don’t-I don’t understand how you could-could just leave me like that. I trusted you. I relied on you. And you ruined it all. You treated me like shit, calling me names, deliberately picking that fight with me, and for what? Do you have any idea how alone I felt? Years spent on that fucking island! Being treated as less than the rest of them, punished if one of my brother’s did something he wasn’t supposed to because somehow it was all my fault that they made mistakes! Punished for having my daring to contradict Daemon, or make him feel stupid, because, gods forbid, he might actually be wrong about something.”

Pangs of guilt coursed through him. He remembered the fight she was talking about. It was one he would never forget.

His mother had just informed him that Rhaenyra and her brood would be retreating to Dragonstone. He had been so afraid to lose his one and only friend, if he was even able to call her that. So, rather than have to face the possibility of them drifting apart, or Rhaenyra poisoning her against him, he decided to force the break himself. Get it over with before it became too painful for him to bear.

He hadn’t realized, though, just how much it might’ve hurt her. He supposed he must’ve thought that she didn’t care for him nearly as much as he did her.

“I was nothing to them! They never cared for me, never protected me, never let me be a child! My brothers, however, could do no wrong! Perfect in every way, while I could only ever make mistakes! I broke my back for them, being there for them when they were breaking, healing them when they were sick, keeping the family together, doing everything and anything that was asked of me, no matter how distasteful it was, and it was never fucking enough!”

She turned to him suddenly, her hair whipping around, her eyes wild and her cheeks wet.

“So few people in this whole fucking world cared about me, and yet you left me! You abandoned me, you broke my heart, and you left me to pick up the fucking pieces!” She yelled, the tears now flowing steadily.

She marched up to him and pushed him in the chest, sending him backward a couple steps. 

And he just let her.

She kept pushing, and hitting, and punching.

“I hate you! I hate you so much! You fucking prick! You absolute selfish, arrogant, cold-hearted, fucking dick! I hope you rot in hell!”

Aemond took it all, letting her get it all out. But he could see she was breaking. And he couldn’t take it. 

He reached his arms out, trying to pull her into an embrace. Varaena tried to shove him away, but he was stronger than her. He wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her in close, holding her tight. Sobs racked her body, her limbs shaking from the force, and the sounds of her wails echoing through the room. Her fingers clutched his arm so tightly he was sure her nails would through his clothes and pierce his skin.

And when her knees buckled and they collapsed to the floor, he still held her. 

He held her for hours, and hours. All through the night as she cried, and cried, and cried, till finally she fell asleep. He carried her to the bed, and placed her down ever so gently, then climbed in beside her, and held her some more.

Chapter Text

Dragonstone’s POV:

Rhaenyra paced back and forth in the great hall of the castle. 

It had been a couple weeks since her daughter’s wedding, almost a month since she had returned to King’s Landing, and Rhaenyra had not heard from her since. Not one single letter.

When Daemon returned and told her what Varaena had said, she hadn’t been sure how to respond at first. She just kept telling herself that Varaena would move past it. That she would understand why she had to do it, that she would forgive her. But now that so much time had passed, she realized just how naive she’d been.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep doing that,” Daemon called from the doorway.

She whirled around to see him walking in with a satchel over his shoulder.

“I’m starting to wonder if it was wise to leave her there. Perhaps I made a mistake, Daemon.”

“What makes you think that?” He asked.

“We haven’t heard from her in ages. It has me worried. What if they have gotten inside her head? Turned her against me?”

Daemon laid his satchel down gently, approaching Rhaenyra he put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

“She knows her place, Rhaenyra. And we can only hope that she’s smart enough to know what kind of people they are.”

“But what if she doesn’t? What if she gets taken in by their lies? The way my father was,” she hissed. “I will not have them spoiling my only daughter.”

“We’ll get her back before that happens. Remember our plan.”

“Our plan? You mean your plan. It was your idea to send her into the snake pit!”

“It was your plan just as much as mine. My only thought was to have her there to keep your father company and watch the Greens. It was your idea to wed her to Aemond.”

“You agreed to it! Why in the Seven Hells would you agree? You hate them just as much as I do, and you were the one who always said you were glad I left for Dragonstone when I did and got her away from Aemond!”

“I agreed because you were right, it was the only way to secure her place there for as long as we needed it! And because I knew that he would be dead long before he could corrupt her.”

“Well, now I’m not so sure. My father is still clinging to life, and while I’m grateful he still lives, the longer he does, the longer she has to stay there. I want her back, Daemon! She’s too valuable to waste there!”

“Then perhaps you should have thought of that before you sent her there!” 

Rhaenyra got in his face, opening her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by her sons.

“Mother?” Jacaerys said as and and Lucerys entered the room. 

Concern was written all over their faces as they looked back and forth between their mother and her husband. Rhaenyra just looked at them with a sad smile, pride swelling in her every time she saw them.

“Are you talking about Varaena?” Luc asked. 

“Nothing to worry about, sweet boy. We just miss your sister, that’s all.”

Luc eyed his mother and Daemon, doubt lingering in his mind. Of their whole family, he and Varaena were the closest, and in recent years, especially after a bit too much wine, she had revealed a few things about the treatment she received from the two of them that made his heart ache for her.

“If you miss her, then why did you send her there in the first place? I thought you hated them all,” Jace pointed out. “I understand that you want to get as ahead of the Greens as possible, find out what they’re planning before they can take action, and it makes sense. But I’m not sure it was smart to send in my sister. She can’t handle it, it’s too much for her.”

“To be completely honest, I’m starting to agree with you Jace,” Rhaenyra replied. “It’s been weeks, and we’ve not heard from Varaena once in that time. In fact she…she told Daemon that she had no wish to see me again. I’m afraid that she was too angry over this, and it provided the perfect opening for them to undermine me.”

“Has she contacted either of you?” Daemon asked.

Jacaerys shook his head, while Lucerys stayed silent. He felt it was best to not say anything, considering he had, in fact, been in contact with Varaena. She had sent a raven not long after they left King’s Landing, apologizing for not being there to see them off. Since then, they had sent a few ravens back and forth. Varaena didn’t speak much of what her life was like now, but he could tell something was off. She wasn’t as open as she used to be, as playful. 

He had a feeling his family would not be happy to learn that she had kept in touch with him, but not said a word to the rest of them. 

“I’m sure she’s alright, mother,” Lucerys finally said.

“Ever the optimist,” Rhaenyra smiled at him, stroking his cheek gently.

Lucerys smiled slightly at his mother. He had looked up to her his entire life, never doubted her love or loyalty to them. But, more than that, he had worshipped his sister. She had been a constant in his life, there when their mother hadn’t been. Varaena had comforted him, supported him, cared for him. He had struggled to believe her when she had hinted at their mother’s and Daemons mistreatment, had failed to support her as well when she had been forced to wed Aemond, and he regretted it deeply. 

But the more he thought about it, the more instances he could remember of Rhaenyra being more than harsh with her, Daemon grabbing her roughly and seeing the pain on her face. The many times she had looked weary, but in the way that made you wonder not if someone was getting enough sleep, but if perhaps they had too heavy a burden on their shoulders.

The hushed conversations that she had with Rhaenyra, which, more often than not, ended with his sister crying quietly in her room, thinking everyone else was asleep.

“If you boys will excuse us,” Daemon said, “your mother and I need to talk some more.”

Jacaerys nodded, gesturing to his brother to follow him out of the room. They were walking down the long hall, leading down to the beach when Jace spoke.

“Do you want to tell me the truth?” He asked suddenly.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Luc said defensively.

“When Daemon asked us if our sister had been in touch, you shook your head no, but I think we both know that’s not true.”

Lucerys remained quiet.

“I’ve seen the ravens coming. You’re always the one to go out and greet them, before the maester can even get there, and I’ve seen a couple coming at night as well when you think everyone is asleep. So, tell me something, brother…why would you lie?”

“I just-I didn’t think it wise to tell mother. I was afraid of how she’d react, considering the reason why they left her there in the first place. And I didn’t want you to be offended, either.”

“I won’t lie, I am a bit offended,” Jace shrugged.

“You must understand why she hasn’t written to you, though, right?”

“No, I don’t. I’m still her brother, I’m still here for her. I don’t understand why she should favor you over myself, or mother even.”

“Because, Jace, you weren’t there for her. She voiced her anger over this whole situation, and yet we didn’t listen to her. I regret that very much, but I’ve made my peace with her, and I’ve told her I’ll be there for her no matter what. Have you done the same? Or did you turn your back on her like mother and Daemon have?”

Jacaerys looked at his brother in shock. Lucerys had never been so serious, never offered him reproach for something. 

“Luc, it’s not that simple. You’ve heard mother, it’s plain that a war is coming. The moment the King dies, all bets are off. It will simply be a race to see who can claim the throne first. If we can get ahead of them, perhaps we can stop whatever they might have planned.”

“Our sister is not a pawn, and yet she’s being used as such! How can you condone that? After everything she has done for us!”

“What in the seven hells are you talking about?”

“She has been the only constant in our lives, through everything! She has protected us in ways that no one else has! Or do you not remember how she fought for us on Driftmark?”

None of them had mentioned that night since it happened, having taken a vow of secrecy. The only people who knew the truth of what happened in that cave were himself, Jace, his sister and her now husband, and Rhaena and Baela, who had been there as well. All of them, minus Aemond who had not been present during the discussion, had agreed it was best to never say a word of what had transpired.

“Of course I remember!” Jace snapped. “It was my life she saved! You were the idiot who brought a dagger in the first place!”

“I realize it was my mistake, but I wasn’t actually planning to use it! She was the one who grabbed it from my waist! But that’s not the point, the point is that she has been there for us, in ways she shouldn’t have had to be, for our entire lives! And yet you so easily sacrificed her happiness and well-being, simply because mother and Daemon told you it was the best option!”

Jace was still reeling from the fact that he was having an actual argument with his brother. Lucerys was never one to vocally disagree, being ever the peacemaker, much less raise his voice. But now, he was being so extremely vocal about his anger over what the family had done to Varaena, and Jacaerys had to admit, it gave him doubts.

He had always agreed that the needs of the many outweighed those of the few, even family. Especially in such a situation as this. But he wondered if perhaps he’d been too hasty in his acceptance of Rhaenyra and Daemon’s decision to have Varaena act as their spy.

“We have to be smart about this, Luc. If we have even the slightest chance of winning this war-”

“What war? Are we calling up our armies? Are we meeting them on the field of battle?” Luc shook his head. “The only war is the one happening in our family. Mother and Daemon have made a preemptive decision, and if we’re not careful, it will forever cost us our sister.”

Lucerys turned and started to walk away, but he turned and said one more thing.

“The time is coming when you will have to pick a side, Jace. Whether you like it or not.”

Luc left Jace alone in the hallway, starting down the steps on the side of the mountain that led toward the beach. 

The wind was howling, the steady beat of the waves against the sand left a pounding in his head. He hadn’t slept well for the last couple nights. Varaena hadn’t written to him in a few days, and he couldn’t help but worry for her.

It was almost as if the gods had read his mind, because at that very moment, he heard the caw of a raven as it approached the island, landing on a rock beside him, with two scrolls tied to its feet.

He cracked a smile, letting out a sigh in relief, as he untied the scrolls. One of them had his name scrawled onto the side, the other had his mother’s name.

He quickly opened the scroll addressed to him, taking in the familiar script on the page.

“ Dearest brother,

I hope you are well, and I apologize for taking so long to return your last letter. The last few days have been extremely chaotic, and very draining. 

I have been approached by the Hand, that foul fucking man. He has asked the same of me as Mother and Daemon. That is, to say, he has asked me to spy for him. Against Rhaenyra and Daemon, and grandfather as well. He tells me that I am now a part of his family, whether I like it or not. He all but said that my life depended on it. I’m at a loss for what to do, Luc. But whatever happens, know that you will always be my family first. I will always be loyal to you. 

As for my husband, I must say that things have taken an interesting turn. We had quite an interesting…conversation last night, and I really don’t know what’s going to happen to us now. I know that I can tell you this, brother, because I know that you will not judge, nor condemn me. You may, perhaps, even understand, considering what I confided in you many years ago. 

I feel that I am falling for him again, and I’m afraid. He has never given me any inclination that he feels the same, even though he has told me that he cares for me. I must confess that with everything that is happening between our families now, it gives me even greater pause. 

But grandfather told me something the other day. He said that many years ago, he had a dream of Aemond and I. That our destinies were intertwined, that the gods had decreed we be joined. They would not show him what happens to us, only that we were meant to be. 

I believe there was something else he wanted to say, but for whatever reason, he chose not to. And now, I may never know. 

There is something else I must tell you brother. Something of greater importance than all I have said. I struggle with writing it down, which is why it has waited till the end of this letter to be said.

The King has passed. Sometime last night, he was welcomed by the Stranger. The Queen was with him, and I can only pray that he met a peaceful end.

I have not been able to stop crying. I miss him more than words could ever say. 

But I must warn you now, brother. You need to prepare yourself. Things are about to get very ugly, and I do not know if we will all make it out of this. 

The second scroll sent with this raven is for mother. Please ensure that she receives it as soon as possible. 

And please, be safe.

I love you, and miss you.

Your beloved sister,

Varaena”

Lucerys stared at the scroll, his mind reeling from the revelation. In a split second, his legs went from standing frozen, to running faster than he thought he could, racing back up the stairs and down the halls, to the great hall where he had left his mother and Daemon only minutes ago.

The doors burst open, and they both turned to him in surprise and concern.

“Luc, what is it?” His mother demanded, striding over to him as fast as she could.

“You need…to read this,” he gasped out, struggling to fill his lungs after running so far.

He placed the second scroll in his mother’s hands, and she quickly broke it open, her eyes scanning the words. He could see the moment she read the words. Whatever his feelings toward his mother might be at that point in time, he would not wish this kind of pain on anyone.

“My-my father, he-he-he’s gone,” she stuttered, her voice cracking at the last word.

Daemon turned his head sharply to hers, before he took the letter from her and read it himself.

“Fuck,” was all he could say once he finished.

The three of them stood there, silent, in shock. Daemon was the first to act.

“Guards!” he shouted, marching towards the door. 

“Yes, my prince?” Two of the men filed into the room.

“Set a twenty-four hour watch along the island, with men at each tower watching the skies. We must be prepared for anything. And start immediate preparations for a journey to King’s Landing. We must get to the throne before that bitch and her son do.”

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra breathed, her hand going to her stomach as a sudden look of pain passed over her.

She was crying now, seemingly from grief.

“We have to leave as soon as possible. We cannot allow those cunts to crown Aegon.”

“Daemon!” Rhaenyra finally shouted. 

She stood a few feet away from Lucerys now, having stumbled backwards a bit. At first, he thought that she might be angry at Daemon for giving orders. But the look on her face told him something else was wrong. 

For a reason unbeknownst to him, his gaze drifted down to where she had been standing a moment earlier. And in her place, there was a small pool of blood.

“The babe is coming.”

Then the world turned to shit.

Chapter Text

Varaena’s POV, earlier that same day:

She felt numb.

It had been a long time since someone she loved had died, and she still wasn’t entirely sure how to process it.

The whole castle was in a frenzy, trying to figure out what to do next, but she sat frozen in a chair, in her grandfather’s chambers. 

He had died last night. And she hadn’t gotten to say goodbye.

Varaena kept trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feel of his beard against her cheek when she kissed him, the smile he gave her when he was proud of her. But everything seemed to be fading so fast.

She had known there was something wrong the second she woke. Aemond was gone, and she was all alone. The sky had been so dark, the clouds covering any drop of sunlight, as the rain began to pour steadily.

There was just something in the air. 

She had wandered about, looking for someone, but there was no one to be found. Even the servants and guards were few and far between. Something was happening, and she knew what it was, though she was still fairly in denial.

It wasn’t till she reached the King’s chambers, and saw them carrying out his body, wrapped in a black and red shroud, that it truly sunk in. 

She had stumbled over her feet, sucking in a sharp breath as the blood drained from her face. Her eyes followed him for a few moments, before they turned back to the entrance to his chambers, where stood Alicent, Otto, and the Grand Maester.

Alicent’s eyes were red and tearful, her cheeks stained with the tears that had already been shed. She hadn’t yet seen Varaena, as she was still in conversation with her father and the maester, but it didn’t take long for her to notice.

“Oh, my dear girl,” Alicent sighed, rushing out of the room, and pulling Varaena into a tight hug.

Varaena slowly wrapped her arms around the woman holding her, the shock taking its time to wear off. But when it did, the tears flowed hot and steady. She let loose a sob, her fingers tightening against Alicent’s back and her nails digging into the fabric of her dress.

Her vision was clouded, and her mind jumbled as she cried. She had known it was coming, everyone had. But it was still difficult to believe. She almost wondered if perhaps she were dreaming, and if she squeezed her eyes tight enough, perhaps she could will herself to wake.

But she wasn’t, and she couldn’t.

“He’s with the gods now, sweet girl. He’s at peace.” 

Alicent’s voice trembled, as though she were saying not just for Varaena, but for herself as well. She pulled back, taking Varaena’s face gently in her hands, and wiping away her tears with the pads of her thumbs.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” she whispered. Her voice was a comfort to Varaena, like an extension of her hug.

“I’m sorry, too,” Varaena cried. “Whatever my mother may think, I know you loved him in your own way.”

Alicent blinked, the tears starting to form again. “Thank you, Varaena. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

Alicent took her hand, wrapping her free arm around her, and led her slowly into the King’s now empty chambers. The fire was still burning, doing its best to create a sense of coziness in a room that now felt so deeply cold and empty.

The two ladies sat down on the settee, still clutching each other’s hand. 

“What happens now?” Varaena dared to ask, though she was sure she already knew the answer.

Otto’s cold, hard gaze turned to her. “Now, we work on putting the true heir on the throne. We must spread the word, and get as many people here as soon as possible, so that we may crown him before the masses. This will take time, but hopefully it can be accomplished before word reaches Dragonstone and they’re able to make the journey here. As well as that, we must also ferret out any remaining supporters of the usurper, Rhaenyra.”

Varaena shot him a murderous look, her lip trembling in anger. “My grandfather, your king , has only just died not even 6 hours ago, and all you can talk about is how to steal the throne from the rightful heir?”

There was a deadliness to her voice that sent a chill down even Otto’s back. 

“The rightful heir, as you put it, is Aegon, the firstborn son of the king,” Otto hissed.

“The King named my mother his heir, and no matter what you might think, his having a son does nothing to change that! You know that as well as I! Unless he made a formal declaration, either in front of the court or by a signed and sealed document, there is nothing you can do about it!”

“Tradition dictates that only a male heir may sit the throne! Aegon’s birth negated that disgusting business!”

Varaena was enraged. “Are you telling me, then, that when you got on your knees in front of the many lords and ladies, as well as the king, and swore your fealty to my mother as heir, that that was just another lie from your forked tongue?”

Otto’s hand swung out and smacked her across the cheek. Her face stung, but she refused to cry because of him. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Father!” Alicent exclaimed, leaping from her seat.

“Shut your mouth, Alicent! You wanted Aegon king just as much as I!”

“This is not the way! I wanted him to be crowned, yes, but not at the expense of my husband’s wishes.”

“His wishes mean nothing now! He may have made a declaration before the court, but there was no legal document drawn up.”

Both Alicent and Varaena blinked up at him, surprise written on their faces.

“That-that cannot be! Viserys would never have missed such a thing, not when it came to something of such great importance as this!”

Otto had the audacity to look smug. “You have myself to thank for that, daughter. You see, unlike you, I was paving the way for your son since long before it became a necessity. I was prepared for every outcome.”

“Fucking bastard,” Varaena thought. 

She had long suspected that Otto had been scheming for the throne, that he had some hand in Viserys choosing his daughter to wed. There was no other alternative. What kind of man would send his teenage daughter in to comfort a much older man if he didn’t see some profit for himself? He had to have known what might come of it. In fact, he had to have been planning on it. And his words now were all but confirmation. 

Because Varaena knew that her mother had been named heir before Alicent and her grandfather had been wed. Which meant that Otto had been planning something like this for quite some time.

“I should have known you wouldn’t even have the decency to wait till my grandfather was in the ground before you began your coup,” Varaena spat as she rose from her seat.

Alicent tried to take her hand and calm her down, but she wouldn’t have it.

“You are fucking cunt, Otto Hightower, and I will see you dead before I ever let you steal the throne.”

She whipped around, rushing out of the room as fast as her feet could carry her, back to the safety and relative peace of her chambers. 

Her heart was pounding in her chest, the fear of what Otto would do to her already taking hold. But she just couldn’t help herself. It gave her a great sense of satisfaction to curse him out. And the violent side of her couldn’t wait for the opportunity to slit his throat. 

But for now, all she could think about was Viserys. 

When she had seen him yesterday, he had seemed in good spirits, fondly reminiscing of her childhood.

“It seems just yesterday your mother was presenting you to me, my dear,” Viserys said in a hoarse voice. “And now look at you. A woman grown.”

A slight blush crept up her cheeks as she glanced away from her grandfather.

“I’ve missed you so much, dear girl.”

“What do you mean? I’m right here, grandfather. I’ve been here for weeks.”

She gently took his hand, holding it in her lap, trying so hard not to squeeze as she was afraid she might break every bone if she did.

“You’ve not been the same. Not for years.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Whatever my brother and daughter have done to you…it’s changed you. I remember you as a girl, so full of spirit, not afraid of anyone or anything. Never afraid to speak your mind, even at the most inappropriate of times.”

Viserys wheezed, his lungs unable to allow him enough breath for a full belly laugh.

“I knew then, even as I first held you in my arms, you were meant to be a queen.”

“Grandfather, I think you must be dreaming again,” she replied, worried that he was mistaking her for her mother.

“I am more awake than I’ve been in a long time, my darling. The gods have spoken to me. They’ve told me that you are to sit the throne, unite the kingdoms and the family once more.”

Varaena’s breath hitched in her throat.

“You must be mistaken, sir. My mother is the heir, not I.”

“Your mother is many things, Varaena, but a natural queen she is not. You, however, have your grandmother’s spirit. She was a natural, too. Just as kind and compassionate, a natural leader. But you are more than that. A fierce protector, a strong warrior. You have that ferocity, dare I say that darkness, that would serve you well. I have seen the way you lead your brothers.”

“Grandfather, you mustn't jest. I’m nothing, nobody. I have no worth, no value, to anyone, least of all the Seven Kingdoms!”

Viserys stared up at her for a long time, his gaze darkening as he took her in. A look of grief seemed to wash over him.

“What on earth have they done to you, girl? Where is that beautiful, prideful child I knew? The one who wasn’t afraid to curse someone when they tried to put her in her place?”

Varaena looked away. “Many things have changed since then, grandfather. I’m not the same girl I once was. You said it yourself, I’m a woman grown. I’ve no more time for girlish fantasies.”

“They have poisoned you, byka zaldrīzes, they have maimed your very soul. I regret ever letting your mother take you away.”

Varaena was taken aback. She had never heard her grandfather speak so harshly of his eldest daughter. Growing up, it always seemed to her as if he worshipped the very earth she walked upon, as though she could do no wrong. That was made even more evident by his refusal to acknowledge her and her brothers’ bastardy.

“They’ve done nothing to me,” she whispered.

“I’m not blind, girl, not completely. I’m well aware of what kind of person my brother is. And of what my daughter’s love for him has turned her into. Please, for my sake, do not let them destroy you any further.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I’ll try not to. I promise.”

“If I’d had the chance,” he murmured as he slowly drifted off to sleep, “I would have made you heir instead.”

That was when her heart completely stopped.

She was jolted from her memories at the sound of the doors opening and closing with a great thud. 

Aemond strode over to where she sat on the settee in front of the fire, her head in her hands as she struggled to hold in the tears.

She had not told a soul of her conversation with the King the day before, and she was hesitant to do so, especially with the Hand lurking about, plotting.

“Mother told me what happened,” Aemond spoke softly as he sat down beside her.

She let her arms drop as her head turned to look up at him.

“Are you alright, love?” 

She almost didn’t catch the last word, and her heart fluttered a bit in the realization of what he said.

“I don’t know, really. I can’t quite believe that he’s gone. I want him back, Aemond.”

Her voice cracked as her tears threatened to spill over.

With a gentleness she didn’t know he possessed, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, giving her comfort that she needed to cry.

“And now,” she cried, “your grandfather, the fucking bastard, is already planning on how he can usurp my mother’s throne and put Aegon on it instead, and the king hasn’t even had his funeral rites yet!”

“Don’t let him get to you, love. He’s always been a fucking prick, just counting the days till the king died.”

“But, the thing is, Aemond,” she said as she sat up, wiping the tears from her eyes, “I’m not quite sure what to do.”

“About what?”

She hesitated for a moment. Should she tell him about what Viserys said to her? Probably not, especially considering she had no legal claim, despite whatever he may have said.

“I may have defended my mother to Otto, but that was only because I couldn’t stand the thought of him stealing what wasn’t rightfully his. But that doesn’t mean I support her claim to the throne. It’s been a long time since I believed my mother fit to wear the crown, and with Daemon at her side, I’m afraid of what could happen.”

“Is the only reason you oppose Aegon’s claim because it was the Hand who put him forth?”

“No, not entirely. I don’t believe Aegon is fit either, but not for the same reasons. He has never been able to take responsibility in life, or take anything seriously. I’m afraid he would run the kingdoms into the ground with his neglect if he was crowned. But he seems to be the only option. Unless of course… you would want to stake a claim?” 

She looked up at him with rather hopeful eyes, but he just snorted at her question.

“There is no way in the Seven Hells you could get me to take the throne,” he chuckled.

She raised a brow. “How interesting. I seem to recall you mentioning on many, many occasions as children how you felt that you should be next in line for the throne, above Aegon. Has your opinion of the position changed?”

“Drastically,” he responded dryly. “I’d sooner cut off my own balls than be forced to wear the crown. I’ve no desire to wield that kind of power.”

Damn. That truly didn’t help her any. 

Varaena studied him a bit more, wondering when he’d changed so much. Gone was the arrogant, prideful, foolish boy she had once known. Now, before her eyes, was a man. A man capable of love and gentleness, in whatever capacity he felt inclined to show it. A man who had no desire for power, who actually understood the toll being a monarch could take on a person.

She swore she felt her heart swell a bit.

Aemond looked down at her again, his eyes widening for a split second before his brow furrowed.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked.

“No reason,” she said quickly, averting her gaze. 

When she looked back at him, he was still gazing at her, though his eyes had softened a bit, the rest of his expression was fairly unreadable. However, he had somehow drifted a bit closer to her, his face coming within inches of hers.

She could feel his breath, so close to her it was almost unbearable.

She had the sudden urge to lean forward and plant her lips on his. Her eyes widened slightly as the thought popped into her head, and she noticed now that he had stopped breathing suddenly. 

They both leant in even closer, till she could feel the slight brush of his lips against, just barely a touch, and in the back of her mind she heard a voice screaming for more.

It took every ounce of self control to keep herself from reaching up and running her fingers through his hair.

A loud crash echoing from somewhere in the Keep jolted them both out of their trance, leaving them blushing and feeling rather awkward.

She stood from her seat, or rather, she practically jumped, and walked over to her desk, pulling out two sheets of parchment.

“What are you doing?” Aemond questioned.

“I’ve not written to my brother in days, and I must send a reply. And…I have to tell my mother what’s happened. Whatever my feelings may be, or my worries, she deserves to know her father is dead. And I know that Otto will see to it she remains uninformed until after he’s had a chance to lay the crown upon Aegon’s head.”

“Are you sure that’s wise? My grandfather is known to have suspicious ravens intercepted.”

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take. He can do whatever he likes with me, gods know he’s already threatened it.”

She spoke the last bit under her breath, and yet somehow he still heard her, his back immediately stiffening, and his hand involuntarily going to the hilt of his sword.

“What does that mean? What’s he said to you?”

“Nothing,” she brushed him off. “It’s nothing to worry about. Now please, leave me be so I can write these.”

Aemond looked like he wanted to press her further but she turned her back on him and began to write. First, to Lucerys. Then, to her mother, although that one, she wasn’t afraid to admit, was done a bit hesitantly.

“Rhaenyra,

I write to you now only because I feel necessity calls for it. I have it on good authority that what I’m about to share with you, was supposed to be kept from your ears until it was too late, but regardless of how I feel about you, you deserve to know this.

Grandfather died last night, peacefully in his sleep. Or so I’m told. I wouldn’t put it past Otto Hightower to have had some hand in his passing, not that anyone would question his death considering he was already on the verge of it.

Otto has designs to place Aegon on the throne, though I can assure you Aegon himself wants no part in it. 

Do as you wish. But leave me out of it.

Sincerely,

Varaena Targaryen”

She hadn’t even realized that she had signed her name “Targaryen” till the ink had already dried. Even until recently, she had never once identified herself as Targaryen, only ever Velaryon. There had been a brief discussion when her mother married Daemon on whether or not she and her brothers should take on the Targeryan name, as it was his house as well as their mother’s house of birth, and considering they were the heirs to the Targaryen dynasty, it seemed to make sense.

But on this occasion, the three of them had been in staunch agreement. 

They would keep the Velaryon name.

She was sure that their reasons had been different, but they had done it all the same.

Rhaenyra had been none too happy, though she had said nothing to her boys, except that Laenor would be proud. But she saved her true disappointment for later, when she scolded Varaena for influencing her brothers, asking her what was so shameful about the name Targaryen. 

Varaena had replied nothing except that she would be damned if she bore the same name as the bastard who unwittingly sired her.

That had earned her a sharp slap from Rhaenyra.

But it seemed as though time and circumstance had unconsciously changed her mind. She had thought that even after marriage she would still keep the name Velaryon, in remembrance of her father, but, now, it was apparent that whatever her current relationship with Aemond, and the rest of them, was, it had caused a shift in her that she hadn’t foreseen.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she quickly sealed the letters, and set off to find the swiftest raven, attaching the two scrolls and sending off the bird as quickly as possible, hoping that they would reach Dragonstone before something drastic happened.

Chapter Text

Varaena’s POV:

It had been almost three days since the death of the King, and the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms were on the edges of their seats, waiting to see what would happen. A number of Lords and Ladies had announced their plans to travel, some hoping to offer their support to Aegon should the occasion call for it, other’s planning to defend Rhaenyra. 

The princess’ supporters who were already in the capitol stood their ground against Otto, demanding he put a stop to whatever he’d been planning, and begin the plans for a coronation ceremony for the coming Queen. 

Otto did his best to placate them, saying he had no idea when she would be arriving, so it was foolish to spend the money now. For his part, he believed she was either still completely ignorant of the King’s death, or that she was still scrambling to pull herself and her family together in order to make the trip, and that he had time to work out a plan.

He had no idea how wrong he was.

Varaena and Aemond had barely spoken since their almost kiss, seeing each other only in passing, with him leaving before she woke in the morning.

A part of her was grateful for the peace, but another, more dominant part of her, wished he would stop and speak to her. Or, even better, properly kiss her.

He hadn’t done so since that night in the gardens, shortly before they were wed, because of course the kiss at their actual wedding ceremony hadn’t counted to her, considering neither was willing, and it was barely a touch.

She wanted him to pull her in tightly, so that her breasts pressed firmly against his chest, so that she could barely breathe without taking in his intoxicating scent.

He forever smelled of smoke and fir trees, and it made her almost drunk just from a mere whiff.

She wanted him to hold her, and kiss her, and run his hands along her sides, and her thighs, and wrap her legs around his waist, and pick her up, and carry her to the bed, and toss her down, and-

Varaena had to physically smack herself before her mind went any further. It had taken a rather sharp turn she hadn’t been expecting, and she was having very mixed feelings about it.

She stood abruptly from her seat in front of the fire, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and gazing out at the darkening sky. Her arms wrapped around her chest, she let out a deep sigh, remembering fondly the days when her grandfather would take her down to the beach at dusk, and watch as the stars slowly began to appear in the sky.

A knock at the door sounded, and then it opened a moment later. She turned around to see Aegon poking his head inside.

“Are you busy?” he asked, still halfway out the door.

“No, not at all,” she gestured for him to come in as she walked back to her seat. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes, everything’s fine. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

Varaena blinked at him. “Me? I’m perfectly fine. Why do you ask?”

Aegon ignored her narrowing eyes. “We never did get to finish our conversation the other day, and with the King dead, I wondered if perhaps you were in need of a talk.”

“Aegon,” she sighed, “I’m not really in the mood to argue with you again.”

“See, the thing is, I have a feeling that you’re hiding things from me. Not that I blame you, everyone is allowed their secrets. Gods know I’ve got mine. But I like to believe I know you at least somewhat decently, and that perhaps you might feel better if you talked to someone about it.”

“That someone being you?”

He gave her a devilish grin. “We all know I’m your favorite. And besides, I have a great ear, and I think it’s been well established by now that I’m pretty wise.”

“You are hardly my favorite. If anyone’s my favorite, it’s Helaena. And I don’t recall us deciding that you are inherently wise, only that you have a few rare moments of wisdom amidst all the bullshit that comes from your mouth.

“Ouch,” he jokingly placed a hand over his heart, “you wound me!”

She rolled her eyes at him.

“In all seriousness, though,” his tone became somber again, “I do think you’ll feel better. If you won’t talk to me, please talk to someone, even if it’s my prick of a brother.”

He waited for her to say something, but when she hesitated for too long, he sighed deeply and stood to leave.

He was almost to the door when she finally spoke.

“Viserys told me he wanted me to be queen,” she said in a hoarse voice.

Aegon stopped dead in his tracks, turning around to face her again, his expression completely unreadable.

“Did he now?” Aegon said slowly. 

She couldn’t tell if he was surprised, or angry, or just didn’t care. Tears pricked at her eyes as she continued.

“I went to see him the day he died. We were talking, reminiscing, and he told me that he knew, from the time I was small, that I was destined for the throne. That he regretted not doing something about it sooner.”

“Well, that’s…intriguing.”

Aegon sat down beside her again, his brow furrowed in what she assumed was shock and confusion.

“I don’t know what to do, Aegon. I don’t want the throne, but I’m not sure I can bend the knee willingly to my mother. But if your grandfather had it his way, it would be you I’d be pledging my allegiance to.”

Aegon snorted. “He can dream all he likes, it’s never going to happen.”

“You know the only reason he wants to crown you is because he’s hoping that he can either control you, or you might drink yourself to death soon enough that he can rule the kingdoms until your son comes of age.”

“I’m well aware of that. He’s told me on multiple occasions that perhaps that would be the best outcome.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Varaena’s eyes widened. “That fucking cunt.”

“Forget him,” Aegon waved his hand. “We’re talking about you. Do you really think my father would have told you this if he didn’t believe it?”

“No, but he also didn’t have complete mental wherewithal. I just can’t understand why he would want me. I never once expressed a desire, or any real aptitude I thought. And, honestly, I’m still not entirely sure he didn’t mistake me for my mother.”

“Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why. Everyone around him has expressed their craving for the throne in some way, and many of them have been quite inept. But not you. You might actually be the first person who has all the potential of being a great leader, and yet none of the aspirations. And, coming from me, that’s something.”

Varaena said nothing, giving Aegon a chance to continue. 

“And besides that, whether or not my father was entirely in his right mind doesn’t matter, because it’s you. He may have had trouble remembering the year, his name, my mother’s name, or any other thing, but the one thing he never wavered from was you. He remembered you every day, he never mistook you for someone else. You were the only constant in his fucked up brain. Now that says something.”

She was silent for a few minutes, the only sounds were the crackling of the fire.

“I’m scared, Aegon. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…say my mother comes and claims her throne. I’m sure she will have my marriage to Aemond annulled, as the only reason it happened in the first place was because my grandfather wanted it, and she wanted a spy in your midst. And if your grandfather has his way, I’m sure my marriage will either be annulled, or I’ll be killed. There’s no winning here.”

The corner of Aegon’s mouth quirked up. “So, you think that a winning situation is one in which you stay married to Aemond? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I didn’t say that!” She protested.

“But that’s exactly what you implied, which makes me think that perhaps things are getting a bit more serious between my brother and yourself.”

She audibly groaned. “Nothing is happening. At least not now, anyway. We haven’t even properly spoken since the night the King died ,when we almost kissed.”

Aewgon’s eyes went wide with delight. “Well, well, well! Do tell, niece! I’m awash with anticipation!”

She reached over and smacked him hard with a pillow, sending him sprawling from his seat and eliciting a laugh from the both of them.

“If you think I’m going to tell you anything, you’re very mistaken.”

“Please, just one thing! I haven’t had any for weeks, and I’m sorely missing it.

“Sounds like a personal problem to me,” she smirked.

“Just tell me what my odious brother is like in bed, that’s all I ask.

Before she had a chance to think, the words were out of her mouth.

“Well I can’t tell you something I don’t know,” she said quickly.

Her mouth dropped open, and her hand clapped over it in surprise. Aegon, too, seemed genuinely shocked, not just that she had told him, but at what exactly had been said.

“You and Aemond have not been together?”

She hesitated a moment before shaking her head in reply.

“But…everyone believes you have! My mother talks nonstop about how excited she is for more grandchildren!”

“Oh, gods,” she sighed. “Just what I needed.”

“If I may ask,” Aegon began,” why haven’t you had sex?”

Varaena blushed slightly at the question. “Well, on our wedding night, we had asked to forgo the bedding ceremony. Neither of us was very enthusiastic about having a group of strangers hovering over us while we were intimate. But when we returned to my chambers…I think we both just realized that we couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to force me, and I couldn’t be with someone like that if I didn’t love them. At least, not after last time. I wonder if Aemond felt the same, but he never said so I’m not sure.”

“Then why not just tell people that? There’s no shame in it.

“Because most people don’t believe a marriage to be valid until it has been consummated, your mother included. There was no way in hell I was going to tell her we had been unable to “perform our duty” as she put it.”

“Do you love him?” Aegon asked bluntly.

“Aegon, we’ve talked about this. I’m not sure what I feel for him, I-”

“Cut the bullshit. Do you love him?”

She stared at him for a long time, not sure whether she should answer.

“You say that you don’t know how you feel about him, but I’ve watched you since the day you first returned, and it was clear to me then as it is now that you hold at least some regard for him. The way you look at him is not the way you look at anyone else. It’s as though you believe he descended from heaven. Or perhaps crawled out of hell, I can’t tell sometimes. But…the way you talk about him, the way you lean on and rely on him. You’ve all but said that a happy ending for you would be one in which you stayed married to him. Should I keep going?”

“No, please don’t,” she begged.

“Then tell me honestly, even if it’s the only honest thing you say in your entire life. Do you love him?”

Again, she hesitated, and she wasn’t sure why. The second he had asked, her mind had generated a response, but she had bitten her tongue.

“Yes,” she finally said. “I do love him. With my whole heart.”

“Then what the fuck is stopping you?” Aegon demanded.

“It’s not that simple, Aegon. There’s nothing to say he feels the same. After everything that’s happened between us, it surprises me anytime he’s even halfway decent to me. And besides…like I said, there’s no happy ending for us. We come from two opposing sides. There’s no way in which we both make it out of this, living happily ever after. Why risk it all for something that will never last, and only lead to more heartbreak?”

“Because life is short, and you only get one chance. It doesn’t matter if it won’t last, if you’re both destined to die or some shit like that. The point is that you lived, and you loved. That you didn’t let fate get in the way of experiencing some happiness in this fucked up world we live in. Besides, if you are going to die young, all the more reason to do all kinds of crazy shit, and get the full life experience before it’s over.”

“I cannot believe such sage advice just passed from your lips. I thought surely I’d die before I ever saw the day.”

Aegon snorted. “You underestimate me. But there’s something else, isn’t there? Whatever it is you won’t tell me. The truth about what happened on Driftmark.”

Varaena averted her eyes.

“I told you we weren’t done with this conversation,” he warned. “I’ll have the truth from you one way or another.”

Varaena sighed and stood up from her seat, walking over to the fireplace where on the mantel sat an object she had thought lost until she had returned to King’s Landing after 6 long years.

It was a small, wooden dragon. It had been painted a lovely shade of green, but that had since chipped off. The once rough edges had been worn smooth from constant handling.

“Do you know Aemond carved this for me?” She turned around to show it to Aegon. “Just before we left for Dragonstone. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even give it to me himself. Just left it on my bed with a note, saying that I didn’t need a dragon because I already was one.”

She placed it gently back in its place on the mantel, slightly hidden behind a vase of flowers.

“Aemond and I never had the easiest friendship. We had very strong personalities, and constantly butted heads, but somehow we made it work. That is, until the day we left for Dragonstone. I had just had a fight with my mother and was already on edge. Aemond found me in my chambers, packing my things in order to leave. He began throwing out these accusations about my being a bastard, my brothers as well, calling my mother a whore, telling me that he only befriended me so that I could serve as a reminder for how lucky he was, saying some of the most vile things I’d ever heard him say. I couldn’t understand why, only that it was like a knife to the heart. I ended up punching him, then my mother and father came in a few moments later, and I thought that was that. We left for Dragonstone later that day, and I wasn’t sure if I ever would, or wanted to, see him again.”

She walked slowly back to her seat, unsteady as she sat back down with her hands clasped tightly together in her lap.

“Then, my Aunt Laena died, and we had to go to her funeral. On Driftmark. And I knew he would be there. I thought perhaps everything would be alright, that I wouldn’t have to speak to him. But of course, the arrogant little prick that he was, he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to possess a dragon. When my cousins realized that Vhagar had been taken, they wanted to go off and confront whomever was behind it. Jace and Luc were willing to as well, only I begged them not to. They all went ahead anyway, while I trailed behind, wanting to make sure they didn’t get into too much trouble. But, unfortunately, fate was not on our side. We found Aemond in the tunnels leading from the beach, having just claimed Vhagar. Rhaena and Baela were livid, Aemond was a smug arse, and my brothers were self-righteous as always. Aemond hurled insults at them, which they quickly responded to just as harshly. It was indeed Aemond who threw the first punch, but we all fought back just as hard.”

“I remember,” Aegon chimed in. “You all looked so terrible, I wondered if perhaps the dragons had chewn you up and spat you back out again.”

“If only that were the case. At one point, Aemond had knocked the girls to the ground, shoving Luc out of the way while he threw Jace to the ground and climbed over him, rock in hand. I was beyond angry, I was filled with white, hot rage. I wasn’t even thinking, I was just moving. I grabbed the dagger Luc had strapped to his waist and I-I…leapt at Aemond, striking him across the eye. I kept swinging my arm, trying to stab him, cut him, anything I could do to make him stop. The guards had to physically pull me off him.”

Aegon was utterly speechless. In her whole life she had never seen him so shocked.

“It was a good thing they did, too. Another few moments and I probably would have killed him. I was ready to. But then…when they questioned us, he blamed it on Luc. I couldn’t figure out why, and, for some reason, Luc just stood there and took it. Never disagreed. Nor did any of the others. To this day I still don’t understand why he didn’t tell the truth about who took his eye, nor do I know if he ever forgave me.”

Aegon seemed lost in thought for a bit, and he opened his mouth once, then closed it, as if he reconsidered saying whatever it was that was on his mind.

“But, to be completely honest with you, Aegon, I’m not sure what would have happened if they hadn’t pulled me off him. I think…I think I might have killed him in defense of my brothers. I mean, at the time, they were more important to me than anything else, no matter how I felt about Aemond back then. He was important to me, to be sure, but he had just broken my heart.”

“You say at the time they were the most important people to you. Does that mean that has since changed?”

Varaena pondered his question for a moment. “In truth? It has a bit. Lucerys is still my favorite, he always has been. He is still my family, more so than the rest of them. Jacaerys…I don’t know where he stands these days. He seemed to be genuinely sorry that I was being made to marry Aemond when I didn’t want to, but he also said that he agreed that it was the best course of action, and I’m not sure I can forgive him for that.”

Aegon whistled low, giving her a look that was a mixture of awe and slight wariness.

“Well, shit, Varaena. I had no idea you were so ruthless.”

“There’s many things you don’t know about me, Uncle,” she replied with a pained laugh.

“I understand now why you chose not to tell me. To be honest, I find it almost hard to believe that you could do such a thing. You always seemed so…docile.”

“Just goes to show how little you pay attention, Aegon,” Varaena smirked. “I’ll have you know that I could probably best you in a swordfight if it came to it.”

“Judging by how you maimed my brother, I’m sure you could,” he replied with a chuckle.

Varaena’s smile faded quickly as his words turned her memory back to that night. It had haunted her memory for years. The way she had felt when she had attacked Aemond, the rage that blinded her. Her vision had clouded with red, and she knew in that moment that she would have killed anyone and anything that had threatened her family, no matter their relation to her. It was only by sheer luck on Aemond’s part that she had gotten his eye. She had been straddling him, dagger raised above her head, aimed and ready to land it’s blow, but a timely knee jerk from him had knocked her off balance, and she had struck his eye.

But Varaena had been aiming for his heart. Something she had not admitted to anyone, not even Aemond. She rarely admitted it to herself, even.

“I do think you were right to keep this to yourselves,” Aegon’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “It was one thing for a prince to have drawn a knife on another, which we all saw was still met with anger and a desire for revenge, but if it had come out that it had been you to do it…I’m not sure how they would have responded.”

“Why should that matter?”

“Well, considering you were not only second in line for the throne, but a lady as well, it would not have bode well for you, or your mother for that matter. Questions would have been raised as to the matter of your sanity, as well as where you learned to wield a weapon in the first place.”

“Entirely sexist questions, if you ask me.”

“Perhaps, but nonetheless, they would have been asked. And if my mother knew it had been you, I shudder to think what she would have done. If you thought she despised you as a child, that would have increased tenfold if she knew the truth.”

“If she knew now, would she still hate me?”

“Probably not,” Aegon responded after a moment. “I think she has come to care for you in her own way. And she has changed much since those days, I like to think. I would hope that she would behave better now than she might have then. But I suppose we won’t know until it happens. You know…there are still some people who want revenge for what was done to my brother. Those who supported my mother and felt that the King showed unfair favor to yours. Ser Criston Cole is one of them.”

“I almost forgot about that cunt. Where has he been lurking since I’ve returned?”

“Oh, my mother sent him to Oldtown to look after my brother Daeron.”

“Ah yes, I’d forgotten him too,” Varaena shook her head.

“Not hard to do. The little bastard’s been gone for so long, I’ve often forgotten I have another brother.”

“Why has he not returned? Is he coming back for the King’s funeral?”

“To be honest, I have no idea. I’ve not heard from him in years. He was sent to Oldtown at the behest of my grandfather, and there he’s stayed. The little shit was never close to the rest of us, I doubt he’d care enough to return. He was the only one of us to truly take Otto’s word as absolute law, probably still does.”

“Would he support you over my mother?”

“He’ll do whatever Otto tells him to do,” Aegon growled.

“What should I do, Aegon? I don’t believe that I can, in good conscience, bend the knee to my mother, and, I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I can bend the knee to you either, seeing as the King never once voiced an intention for you to inherit.”

“Nor would I ever ask you to. I have no desire for the throne. If you haven’t realized by now that I’m not one for responsibility, then I’m not sure what to tell you.”

They both laughed, the first spark of real joy that either had experienced that night.

“But then where am I supposed to go from here? I am caught between two sides, both of whom hold people that matter to me very much, and I feel as though I’m being torn apart. How do I move forward?”

“Why not stake your claim to the throne?” Aegon shrugged.

“On what basis? The words of a delusional, dying man, which were only spoken when no one else was present? I have no legal claim, and honestly, he truly must have been mad to think I would be a good queen.”

“He wasn’t wrong, Varaena. You have more wisdom than many I’ve seen. Your loyalty and your desire to protect others are great qualities in a leader, ones which I’m afraid I somewhat lack. And I think just the fact that you don’t believe yourself good enough, despite everyone telling you that you are, is a good sign in and of itself.”

Varaena didn’t look convinced, a light blush of embarrassment having crept up her cheeks.

“Have you told Aemond about any of this?”

She shook her head. “No, I-I felt it was best to not tell anyone.”

“Well, I’m flattered that I was the first person you trusted with such sensitive information. But I do think you should discuss it with him. I have a sneaking suspicion that his opinion will matter to you far more than mine does.”

Her blush deepened, her cheeks now a deep scarlet, and her heart began beating faster and faster.

“I also think you should tell him how you feel. Now, I’m not one for all the deep feelings and shit, but if we really are on the verge of war, and if you really think you might die better now than never.”

Varaena opened her mouth to respond when the doors opened slowly, and Aemond walked in, his neutral face quickly turning into a scowl.

Aegon turned back to Varaena, a sad smile on his face.

“Think about what I said, yeah?” He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the top of her head.

Varaena nodded silently, watching while Aegon left, stopping in front of his brother for a moment, though neither of them said or did anything. Aegon turned back to give her a look, and a barely perceptible nod towards Aemond, then he quietly left the room, closing the doors behind him.

“What did he want?” Aemond asked coldly, striding over to where she sat.

He towered above her, something she usually found quite attractive, but at the moment sent her nerves into overdrive.

She hated having serious conversations, and this was one that she had been dreading. She felt as though her entire future rested on what she needed to say to him, and if it went horribly wrong…

Butterflies turned in her stomach as she shakily stood, her eyes rising to meet his.

“I-I think we should talk,” she breathed.

Chapter Text

Shared POV:

Varaena thought for sure her heart would burst right out of her chest at any moment.

Aemond’s eyes bore right through her, as if they could pierce her very soul, and his look of annoyance turned to one of concern in almost an instant at her words.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, giving her a quick once over, as though assessing her for any visible injuries.

“Yes,” she shook her head rather quickly, “it’s just that we–that is to say, I think there’s some things we should talk about.”

“Such as?”

“Why did you lie for me that night?” 

The words tumbled from her lips before she had a chance to even consider what she was going to say.

“What do you mean?” He quirked a brow.

“I mean, why did you tell everyone that it was Lucerys? Why not tell the truth? That it was I who scarred you.”

His good eye widened and he jerked his head, having not expected that question to come from her in a million years.

“Why are you asking me this now?”

His voice came out a hoarse whisper, and she could see his chest was barely moving as he struggled to breathe.

“Because I realized that I never got the chance to ask. And I never understood why. I thought you hated me, why lie knowing that it would protect me?”

Aemond hesitated, taking a step back from her as he took in a shuddering breath.

“I’m not sure I–”

“Please, Aemond,” she begged. “I need to know.”

He looked at her for a moment before nodding slowly.

“You scared me that night, you know? I had never seen such pure, gods-given fury in your eyes, not even when I called your mother a whore, called you a bastard. That time I had only seen pain, and heartbreak. But when I threatened your brothers, and your sisters, I suppose, the rage was so palpable it made my heart stop.”

He sat down in the chair opposite where she had been sitting, his arms stretched out and his hands clutching the chair so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“It absolutely terrified me to see you like that. To see you so willing to cut me down in order to protect your family. I almost envied it. And I suppose it also made me realize just how much I hurt you. I often wondered after that night if you would have been so aggressive if I hadn’t been such a little shit and broken your heart the way I did.”

Varaena took her seat again, her hands clasped together, and she watched him, while he watched her.

“When the guards pulled you off me, I could see it in your eyes that you would have killed me if you’d been able to. Not because you hated me, but because I posed a threat to your brothers. Then when we were gathered in the great hall at Driftmark, and they were questioning us, I could see the rage had turned to fear, as you wondered what would happen to you. And then, when I said it was Lucerys, I could tell that you wanted to speak up and say that it was actually you, but you weren’t given a chance.”

“But why lie for me in the first place?”

“Because I regretted what I said and did to you. I knew that you would be punished more severely than your brother, and I wanted to spare you from that. I suppose it was my naive, stupid attempt at recompense. I was certain that you would never forgive me, so I tried to make amends in the best, or rather the only, way I could.

“Well you were wrong,” she said after a beat of silence.

“About what?” he sighed.

“That I’d never forgive you.”

He just looked at her, bewildered, as though she were speaking the rough, Dothraki language that had never been heard in Westeros.

“I forgive you, Aemond,” she said gently.

“I don’t deserve that,” he shook his head. “I’ve done nothing to earn your forgiveness, I’ve done nothing for you at all. If anything, I’ve only caused you more pain.”

“I disagree. You’ve done something by just being here for me, as tumultuous as our relationship can be at times. By not forcing me to do anything I didn’t want to do, by supporting me at times, which is more than I’ve had from many of my family members. I know it might not seem like much, but to someone like me, who’s never had true support in her entire life, it means the world to me.”

Aemond just stared at her, his eyes widened in shock and disbelief, bordering on anger.

“Then you’re even more naive than I thought! You cannot rely on me, Varaena! When things got hard, rather than face the possibility of pain in the future, I caused you pain in the moment, trying to save myself! I hurt you, I abandoned you! I left you alone, to fend for yourself in a family that used and abused you! How can you forgive me for that?”

His shouts echoed through the room, but she didn’t flinch, she only narrowed her eyes, frustration rising within her.

“Because it wasn’t your fault, you arsehole! They would have done those things to me no matter what, and even if our friendship had remained intact, there’s nothing you would have been able to do, so get the fuck over yourself!

“I could have tried something! I could have told someone!”

“Do you honestly think I hadn’t already thought of that? But who would they have believed? The King’s own brother and daughter, or a child, who still believed in fairies and magic?”

“Exactly, Varaena! You were a fucking child, and look what they did to you! Someone should have been there for you, and it could have been me if I hadn’t been such an arrogant little shit!”

“Grow up, Aemond! It wasn’t about you! Whether or not you’d been there for me, it would have made no fucking difference! I mean, do you really think you could have stopped them? Shall I tell you everything they did to me? Like how I was barely eight years old when my mother told me I would never be worth a damn, and to get used to it, before she slapped me for questioning her judgement? What about the first time I met Daemon and instead of welcoming me with open arms, he simply referred to me as his bastard daughter?”

Aemond shook his head, clearly not wanting to hear any of it, but she wasn’t going to back down. 

“Or perhaps you’d like to hear about the first time he raised his hand to me? Shortly after they married, I said that I missed Laenor, and he asked if I thought he was an insufficient parent. I told him Laenor was my true father, and then he slapped me so hard, his ring cut my cheek. Then he slapped me again, and again, and again. And all those times I had to cover my wrist for fear someone would see the bruises he left from gripping my wrist so hard I thought he could tear it off.”

Her heart was racing, her feelings a mixture of sadness and anger as she recalled every terrible moment from her childhood.

“How about that night in Pentos, after I returned from the tavern, bloody and in pain, and my mother called me a whore for letting those boys rape me, and Daemon beat me hard enough to crack my ribs.”

Her voice was deadly calm, but inside her a storm was raging. She hadn’t even remembered that incident till just now, having been too traumatized to remember much, she must have blocked it from her memory. 

Aemond sucked in a sharp breath at her words, his hands shaking with rage, and his body language suggesting he was ready to hunt the boys down and kill them for what they did. 

But she had already beat him to it.

“Do you really think you could have prevented all of that? Because I know that nothing and no one could have stopped that. I know them well enough to know that nothing would have stood in their way.”

“Your brothers could have,” he spat, his rage threatening to boil over

She reeled back. “They couldn’t have done anything any more than you could have!”

“But they could have tried! They had to have known, there’s no possible way they couldn’t have!”

“I did what I could to protect them from it! It wasn’t their job to save me !”

“No, because it isn’t their job to do fucking anything!”

“Why the fuck do you care so much? What does it matter to you that I didn’t want them to help me?”

“Because I love you!” He screamed. 

He was shocked at his own words, stumbling back a few steps as surprise flitted across his face. He couldn’t believe that he’d said that out loud, something he’d barely admitted to himself in the darkest hours of the night, something he’d told Aegon, but had wondered if he’d truly meant it.

Until now. 

“Well, you–I–that’s not–” she stuttered, “that’s good because I love you too, you bastard!”

“Well, good!”

“Perfect!”

“I love you more!” He yelled back.

“Hardly! I’ve loved you longer!”

“That means nothing!”

“Gods, why does everything have to be a competition?”

“It doesn’t!”

“Why are we still shouting?”

“I don’t know!” he roared.

They both stared at each other, standing on opposite sides of the room as their chests heaved, trying to steady their breath after so much screaming.

When Aemond spoke again, his voice came out a low whisper.

“Day in, day out, you are all I can think about. My entire fucking existence has suddenly been consumed by you, and every moment I’m awake, you are all I want. Even in my sleep, you invade my dreams”

He got closer to her, till their noses were only a few inches apart, and she had to tilt her head back in order to meet his eye.

“You plague of a girl,” he whispered, not even noticing when his hands came up to hold her face. “What have you done to me?”

She didn’t even try to pull away from him, as her eyes searched his face, looking for even a hint of regret at the words that had passed through his lips only moments ago, but there was none. She only saw admiration. Adoration.

Love.

Her gaze briefly dropped to his lips, inches away from her own, parted slightly and looking oh so tempting.

In the blink of an eye, he was on her.

Their lips clashed with a ferocity she didn’t know she possessed, her fingers flying up to work their way through his hair, and one of his worked its way down her shoulder and back, to rest just above the curve of her ass, while the other still cupped her cheek.

Their breath mingled as the kiss deepened, and soon she felt his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. 

She didn’t even hesitate, opening her mouth to give him access. It distracted her to the point she didn’t even realize they were moving, till her back slammed against the cold, stone wall.

Varaena gasped as he suddenly wrapped both his arms under her rear and lifted her off the ground, slinging both her legs around his waist so that her heels came to rest in the small of his back.

She could feel the hard length of him pressing against her core through his trousers, and it only made her more eager.

Her fingers still worked through his hair as his lips began to move away from hers, placing kisses along her cheek, up and down her neck, across her shoulder and collarbone, till they finally landed at the swell of her breast, at which point he started the journey again.

He pressed her tighter against the wall, moving one of his legs between hers to offer support for her body as his hands left her ass, traveling up her back towards the laces of her dress.

For a brief moment, she remembered where they were, who they were, what they were doing, and she wondered if perhaps she might be made to regret this later.

They had decided not to do this unless they truly meant it. For her, it was a big deal. Her one and only experience with sex had not been good, and had left her in a horrible place for a long time. 

This was a momentous thing. To be held by someone she loved, and who loved her in return. Someone who wanted to spend his life with her, who would cherish her, protect her. She had never believed that she would find anyone who fit into that. But she did.

And here he was.

This was the man that she’d loved, and hated, for her entire life. She cursed at him, laughed with him, punched him, kissed him…

She’d rather die than stop this now.

Because a little voice inside her head told her that this was it. 

That Aemond was it for her. 

There would be no one else after this. As long as he walked the earth, there would be no one else for her, even if he didn’t want her.

She bit her lip hard, preventing a moan from escaping as he slowly, teasingly, undid the laces holding her dress together, the soft pads of his fingertips tracing against her back.

When he had pulled out every last one, the only thing keeping the front of her dress from falling was his chest against hers. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, his strong hands working under the fabric of her bodice. The first brush of his knuckles against the underside of her breast sent a shiver down her back, and she could’ve sworn she heard him groan.

Aemond pushed off from the wall, turning around and crossing the room in three great strides to reach the bed. Varaena expected him to toss her on the mattress, but he instead laid her down with such gentleness, she felt her heart skip a beat. 

He stepped back a bit, taking one leg and tracing his hand along the length of her thigh and calf, till he had it slung over his shoulder, as he pulled her shoe off and flung it across the room. Then, he did the same with the other. 

When he was finished with that, he slowly pushed the skirt of her dress up till it was bunched around her hips, giving him access to the ribbons that held her stockings up.

Those, he undid with his teeth. 

She watched every move he made, from the untying of her ribbons, to the peeling off of her stockings, which left her smooth legs bare, and finally to him softly kissing his way up her leg, till he reached the top of her inner thigh.

His hot breath against her core made her gasp.

She could practically feel his smile against her skin, as he inched closer, and closer.

Her skin was on fire, any semblance of focus lost as every thought emptied from her mind. Now, all she could think about was where his head was located, and how she wanted to push him closer.

“Already so wet for me,” he growled, the vibrations from his voice sending a wave of pleasure coursing through her.

“Please,” she ground out as she tried to inch closer.

There was a moment of silence, as his fingers stilled briefly on her hips.

Then, he moved, pinning her to the bed as he moved straight to her core, his tongue licking the seam of her wet folds, before diving in to touch her clit.

Her head lolled back as her back arched, one hand flying to grab his hair, while the other dug deeper into the bed.

He worked her over and over, his tongue swirling around her clit, every once in a while his teeth would lightly pinch it.

The pressure had begun to build in her lower abdomen, her legs now trembling, and it was becoming almost unbearable.

Her moan filled the room as she came, her skin tingling and stars clouding her vision. 

She gasped for breath as he left her, standing now to look down on her, his thin lips glistening as they spread once more into a smirk.

“Next time you come, it will be with my name on your lips,” he promised.

He was going to be the death of her.

Aemond grabbed the hem of her dress, tugging and pulling until he’d pulled the entire thing off her and tossed that aside, too. 

She now lay bare before him, suddenly feeling self conscious. She moved her arms to cover her front, though that was a bit foolish considering what they had just been doing.

He openly laughed at her, before reaching down to move her arms and pin her hands to the bed beside her head.

“There’s no need to hide from me, issa jorāelagon,” he said as he leaned down to kiss her again. “You are beautiful to me.”

She blushed at him, before looking him up and down and feeling slightly cheated.

“I think you’re a tad overdressed, love,” she smiled.

He raised a brow, clearly understanding her meaning as he took a step back and raised his hands to his vest.

Aemond began to undo the buttons with a deliberate slowness, before peeling it off and throwing it across the room. His shirt followed a second later.

She stared at his toned chest, evidence of constant effort to be the best swordsman. The muscles in his arms flexed as he reached down to the buttons of his trousers, which he again began to painstakingly undo. 

When he finally pulled them off, she felt the breath leave her lungs. 

Aegon had a habit of joking about his brother’s tiny cock, but if only he knew. 

She thought those boys in Pentos had been large, but they had nothing on Aemond, and he was obviously very aware of it, his whole demeanor even more arrogant than usual.

“See something you like?” He smirked at her as he approached, stepping once more between her legs and using his hands to steady himself above her.

“It’s a bit hard to see anything, really. Perhaps if you have a magnifying glass?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, before reaching down to brush his fingers against her clit once more, putting her in her place as she gasped at the touch. 

“I was kidding,” she breathed, unable to focus till he removed his hand, which only left a longing for more.

“You’re damn right. Believe me, by the time I’m through with you, you’ll be screaming loud enough to wake the entire city.”

Her heart sped up in anticipation, ready for more, but Aemond was determined to make her wait.

His fingers slowly continued their ministrations on her clit, while she felt the head of his cock move to sit at her entrance, just barely teasing her, but not actually entering her.

He continued his movements for the next few minutes enjoying watching her come apart at the slightest touch as she was already sensitive from his earlier work.

She let out a loud moan, her hands going around to dig her nails into his back, drawing him closer. When he got close enough for her to reach his ear she said, “Fuck me.”

Aemond pulled back for a moment, so he could look her in the eyes. 

“If you insist, darling,” he smirked, thrusting forward and entering her fully.

She gasped loudly, almost to the point of screaming, feeling so full almost to the point of pain, but enjoyable nonetheless.

He stilled within her, giving her a moment to adjust, before he began to move, slowly thrusting in and out.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “you feel like perfection.”

“I could have told you that,” she exclaimed. 

“So fucking tight,” he pistoned in and out of her, picking up his pace. 

The wooden bed frame rattled at their movements, banging against the wall with each thrust, and the sounds of their pants and moans echoed through the room.

“Aemond,” she keened, feeling so close to the edge of falling apart.

“I told you,” he gasped for breath, “I told you you would come with my name on your lips.

Those words broke that tight string within her, and she fell into pure bliss, stars clouding her vision as her entire body trembled from the pleasure. 

Aemond wasn’t too far behind her, groaning loudly and legs shaking as hot threads of cum released inside her.

His head fell down to the mattress beneath them, sweat glistening on their skin as they heaved from exhaustion. But neither was ready to stop just yet. 

When they had caught their breath, Varaena locked her legs around Aemond’s waist and rolled them over so that she was on top, before slowly sinking down on his cock, eliciting a sharp gasp from her, and growl from him. Then she rode him till they both came, and then again. 

Then they moved to the wall, then the settee, then the floor in front of the fire, and finally back to the bed again. 

It was until nearly dawn that they finally succumbed to exhaustion, and they fell asleep with Varaena sprawled across his chest, taking slow, deep breaths, while Aemond just watched her peaceful face, till sleep claimed him as well.

Chapter Text

Aemond’s POV:

Dawn crept slowly through the windows, the morning light shining over Aemond’s face, as he blinked awake. He raised his hand to rub the sleep from his eyes before his gaze drifted to the sleeping form next to him.

Varaena’s hair had fallen over her face as her cheek rested on his chest. Her brows were furrowed slightly, and he wondered what she was dreaming about. He let his fingers drift over to brush the hair from her eyes, and instead of waking, she only nestled in deeper, the corners of her mouth quirking up slightly into a smile.

Aemond grinned at the thought of the previous night, his eyes scanning the room to look at all the places he took her up against, the memory of her moans getting increasingly louder was quite the ego stroke for him.

A knock sounded at the door, and Varaena shifted positions, though she remained asleep. Aemond sighed in relief as he ever so slowly disentangled himself from her and climbed out of the bed, pulling his trousers on as he padded over to the doors.

He cracked the doors open and peered out into the hallway to see his brother standing there, looking rather dour. But when he saw his brother shirtless, and the articles of clothing strewn all over the floor behind him, his face instantly broke into a knowing smirk.

“Fucking finally,” Aegon chuckled. “It took you long enough.

“Fuck off,” Aemond growled, moving to slam the door shut.

Aegon stuck his foot out, jamming it in the doorway preventing it from closing.

“I didn’t come here to fight,” he said placatingly, his smile dropping and his face instantly turning serious.

“Did someone get murdered?” Aemond asked.

“Not yet, but most likely soon. A ship’s been spotted, and a few dragons flying above it.”

Aemond clenched his fist. “Dragonstone?”

“Dragonstone,” his brother sighed. “Mother wants you to come down to the council chambers. They’re discussing a course of action, and she’s trying to talk Otto out of declaring war on them.

Aemond groaned in frustration, turning back to glance at Varaena who was still sleeping.

“Do you think she knew they were coming?” Aegon peeked around him.

“Don’t tell anyone, but she wrote to Rhaenyra to tell her father passed. Said she thought it was only fair. I don’t think she thought they’d be here this soon. I’m a little surprised myself.”

“They must have worked doubletime to get here this quick. But if Otto finds out that Varaena’s the one who informed them of the King’s passing, she’s going to be in a lot of trouble.”

“Which is why he won’t find out. Go, tell mother I’ll be there shortly.”

Aegon nodded, striding back down the hallway as Aemond closed the door. He walked back to the bed, planting a kiss on Varaena’s forehead. 

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled sleepily when her eyes met his. 

“Good morning,” she rasped.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” he apologized, “but you should know a ship’s been spotted approaching the harbor, and a few dragons as well. We believe it’s Rhaenyra and her brood.”

Varaena shot up, her eyes wide and her face going a little pale.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Perhaps it’s Rhaenys, or–”

“Who else do you know that has five dragons between them? Besides, if it was Rhaenys, she’d be alone.”

“I suppose you’re right. What is Otto planning to do about it?”

“You’re not going to like it,” he warned.

“He wants to fight, doesn’t he? Wipe them out?”

Aemond nodded. “I’m headed down to the council chambers as soon as I locate my shirt.”

Varaena smiled, jerking her head to the bookcase. “It landed over there, I believe.”

“Should I be offended that you noticed where it went? Perhaps I wasn’t doing my job properly.”

He leaned down and planted kisses along her neck and collar bone, eliciting a giggle from and a push back.

“Get off, you need to get dressed. Give me a few moments and I’ll join you,” she moved to get out of bed but he stopped her.

“I think it might be best if you wait here,” he told her, but she just shook her head.

“No, if there’s a discussion about what to do with my family, I’m going to be there.”

She hopped to her feet, grabbing her dress from the floor and shimmying into it as quickly as she could. She reached around to start tying the laces but Aemond beat her to it. Soon enough they were both dressed and ready, walking down the halls arm in arm.

They were quick to detach, however, as soon as they approached the council room doors, not wanting to give Otto any sort of fodder, nor Alicent for that matter. 

They walked in to find much of the small council already present, minus a lord who they knew was a staunch supporter of Rhaenyra. 

Alicent was standing at the window, her arms folded over her chest as she watched the horizon, and presumably the approaching ship.

“They should be here within the hour, so if we’re going to act, we must do so now!” Otto exclaimed just as they entered.

“And what is it exactly that you plan to do, my Lord Hand?” Varaena asked with an accusatory look.

“Ah, princess,” he sneered. “Glad you could join us. I don’t suppose you knew about this?”

“I’m afraid not, my lord. My mother and I rarely speak these days. However, that doesn’t mean I’m alright with you declaring war on her.”

“Nobody said anything about war, your highness,” Otto smiled, a patronizing look in his eyes.

“What else can you mean by “acting now” if not declaring war? You and I both know you’ve long desired to put Aegon on the throne, so I’m sure you’re scrambling now that it looks as though you won’t be able to.”

“With all due respect, your highness, we both know your mother’s status as heir was void the moment my daughter produced a son.”

“If that was true, the king would have made it so. But he didn’t. Which means you’re committing treason,” she hissed at him.

“Can you honestly say, princess, that you would support your mother on the throne?” Lord Lannister asked. “With the choices she’s made and the things she’s done, do you truly believe she’d make a fit ruler?”

“It’s not about that, it’s about the line of succession, which was established in her favor.”

“Tradition has always had it in the favor of the first-born son. Your mother was simply a placeholder,” Lannister waved his hand as if her words were inconsequential.

“I fucking dare you to say that to her face, Lannister. You do remember what happened to Vaemond Velaryon, do you not? Rather hard to forget.”

Lannister’s face went beet red, but he didn’t open his mouth. Aemond watched him as it seemed that his brain couldn’t think of a proper response. 

“What is it you plan to do, Otto?” Aegon stepped in before things got out of hand. 

“Perhaps you and your brother could take Sunfyre and Vhagar, destroy their ship before it gets to the harbor.”

“And the dragonriders with them? What do you suppose we do about them?”

Otto shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll think of something, you always do.”

Aegon scoffed. “So your plan is to send us in, with no plan, and just hope for the best?”

“No one is going anywhere,” Alicent finally spoke. “We’re going to play nice, wait and see what they have planned, and go from there. I have no intention of starting a war over this. That will only result in innocent lives lost, and nothing truly gained.”

“And if the bitch should try to take the throne?” Lannister butt in again, the fucker completely incapable of keeping his mouth shut.

Aemond could see Varaena bristling out of the corner of his eye, clearly not appreciating Lannister’s talk.

“She has a claim to it,” Aegon spoke up, to the annoyance of Otto, “more so than I do, and I have no plans to stand in her way.”

Otto's eyes burned with rage at his grandson undermining his efforts by offering a sort of meager support for his sister.

“Are you prepared for a full scale war, Lord Hand?” Varaena asked sharply. “Because I can guarantee that that is exactly what you’ll get should you prevent my mother from claiming her throne. I know that she has the backing of the North and the Vale, as well as Dorne, and they would come to her aid should she call for it. Are you prepared to fight the might of those three kingdoms, at the very least?”

Otto said nothing, though in the silence of the room, everyone could hear his foot tapping on the hard stone as he pondered her question. If looks could kill, Varaena would certainly be dead.

“We will do nothing,” he finally spoke, gritting his teeth, “for now. But mark my words, we will depose the usurper, when the time is right, which will be soon enough, my friends.”

There was a knock at the door, and one of the Kingsguard walked in to inform the group that the dragons had landed, with the ship fast approaching. When asked who had been riding their dragons, the guard informed them that it was the two princes, Daemon Targaryen, and Rhaenys Targaryen.

Aemond could see the visible joy that appeared on his wife’s face at the mention of her brothers and grandmother, though her lips pinched and her shoulders stiffened upon hearing her father’s name.

Alicent looked out the window again, before turning back to the room and saying, “The ship is almost to port. We must prepare ourselves, but I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour. The realm has just lost their king, and I will not have them being thrown into a bloody war while they still grieve.”

She shot a scathing look to her father, though by the nod of his head and hers, Aemond wondered if perhaps they had something else up their sleeve. 

Otto had not approached him about using Varaena to spy on the king since the last time, which was a moot point now that the king was dead, but he also had not mentioned a single word of his plans to overthrow Rhaenyra beyond what was said in that meeting.

But Aemond had a feeling that whatever his plan was, not only would it result in a massive loss of innocent lives, on both sides, but that his grandfather was planning to be sitting the throne himself by the end of it all.

Varaena’s POV:

Her heart leapt at the news of her brothers returning. She had missed them more than anything, especially Luc. Keeping correspondence with him was not the same as actually being next to him, and she was ecstatic at the thought of getting to hug her boy again.

Not that she would ever admit it out loud, but Lucerys had always been her favorite.

When the small council had dispersed, she took it as an opportunity to race down towards the Dragonpit, beyond eager to greet her brothers, with Aemond trailing after her.

“Varaena!” Lucerys called from ahead of her, having already started towards the Keep.

He ran over to her, and she enveloped him in her arms while he wrapped his tightly around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.

“I’ve missed you terribly, my boy,” she whispered to him, holding back the happy tears that she could feel rising.

“And I you,” he replied, tightening his grip. “You have no idea just how much.”

“Let me get a look at you,” Varaena said as she pulled back, putting her hands on his shoulders to hold him in place while she looked him up and down. “I swear you’ve grown a few inches since I last saw you. You look to be a man already!”

Lucerys blushed lightly at the compliment. “You look well, too, sister. Much better than when we departed King’s Landing last. They’re treating you well?”

Varaena hesitated slightly, wanting to tell her brother of her encounter with Otto Hightower, but realizing that this was probably not the time nor place to do so.

“Yes,” she assured him, “they’re treating me very well. I’ve surprised myself by actually being quite happy here.”

“I’m glad,” Luc smiled. “And…about what you wrote in your letter?”

Varaena shook her head. “Not here. Come to my chambers later, we’ll talk then. Free from prying eyes and ears.”

“Who’s prying?” Jacaerys asked as he approached, followed closely by Daemon.

“You, of course, you snoop,” she teased him, though her heart clenched in remembrance of the last time they spoke. She had not talked to him since.

“I can’t help it if I have an affinity for gossip. Something I picked up from you no doubt.”

Varaena rolled her eyes as she pulled her brother in for a hug, that was neither warm nor lengthy like Lucerys’ had been.

When she pulled away, she saw Daemon closely examining her, as though for signs of possible defection to the Greens. She was sure he would scold her later for the green undertones he would no doubt see in her dress. 

Lately she had taken to wearing the colors of both sides, unsure where she currently fit.

“Varaena,” Daemon greeted her stiffly.

“Daemon,” she returned in kind, barely sparing him a glance.

“I appreciate your being here to greet us,” he said, his voice dark.

“I’m not here for you,” she snapped, “I’m here for my brothers.”

“Varaena,” Jacaerys started, trying to play peacemaker.

“Where’s mother? I assume she’s not far behind.”

“Your mother is on the ship. It should be landing any moment now. We felt, however, that we should ride ahead and ensure everything was set for her arrival.”

“Why did she not bring Syrax?” Varaena asked, slightly confused as she knew her mother would have preferred to make such a grand statement as that.

“The maester told her to avoid dragon-riding for a period of time, after the birth.”

“She’s had the baby, then? Why didn’t she tell me?”

“It was just before we departed Dragonstone, and besides that, we were under the impression that you wanted nothing to do with us anymore,” he glowered at her.

“That doesn’t mean I do not care for my siblings,” she argued. “It’s not their fault they still reside in your house.”

Daemon’s eyes flared with anger, but Lucerys quickly stepped in to diffuse the situation before it got ugly.

“It’s a girl,” Luc quickly said, his face lighting up. “She’s been named Visenya. She looks just like you, sister.”

Daemon rolled his eyes, presumably at the comparison, which did not go unnoticed by Varaena. She bristled at his reaction, as well as the news of a sister, but she tampered her feelings for the time being.

“That’s lovely, Luc. I cannot wait to meet her.”

Jace suddenly glanced behind her and a scowl appeared on his face.

“What’s he doing here?” Jace growled.

Varaena glanced behind her to see Aemond approaching, having been left behind in Varaena’s race to see her brother. She made no comment as he came up beside her, knowing that any answer she could provide would only either worsen the situation, or be extremely insufficient in way of explanation.

Aemond barely looked at Jacaerys, ignored Daemon entirely, but, to the surprise of everyone, nodded his head respectfully to Luc, even offering a grunt of a welcome.

Luc seemed the most surprised, glancing at his sister for a moment to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, before turning back to Aemond and offering him a returning nod.

“The ship has reached the dock,” Aemond said as he turned to Varaena. “We should return to the Keep.”

Varaena nodded, gesturing for Lucerys to take her arm as they marched back to the Keep, leaving Jacaerys, Daemon, and Aemond to follow. 

“I’ve missed you greatly,” she said, pulling him closer to her as they walked.

“I’ve missed you, too. It’s not the same without you on Dragonstone. Everything seems so much duller. It’s disturbingly quiet, I can’t stand it,” Luc chuckled.

“You’re always welcome here, you know. And, of course, I wouldn’t mind having you stay.”

Luc snorted. “If you had your way, I’d never leave, I’m sure.”

“What can I say?” she shrugged. “You’re my favourite person.”

She hesitated for a moment before asking her next question, unsure if she really wanted the answer.

“How’s the baby? Is mother proud?”

Lucerys looked at her with sad eyes. “Mother absolutely adores her. She’s the sweetest thing. But she’s not you, V. I’ve tried explaining that to mother, but-”

“Don’t bother look,” she replied stiffly. “Mother has made her feelings towards me perfectly clear. I’m just angry that it took me this long to fully understand.”

“I don’t know everything that’s happened between the two of you, but please, don’t abandon us because of her. We still need you,” he pleaded. 

She smiled at him, reaching up to brush some hair from his face before leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“I would never abandon you, sweet boy. You know that you are welcome here anytime.”

“I’m not too sure about that. Welcome by you, perhaps, but by the Queen and the Hand? Decidedly not.”

“Soon that won’t matter. Mother will be crowned, and things will change,” she said, her voice somewhat hollow.

“You don’t sound too sure of that. Is there something I should know?”

She hesitated for a moment before saying, “I’ll tell you tonight. Remember, my chambers, after everyone has gone to sleep.”

“Will he be there?” Luc asked, his gaze passing to where Aemond walked, though there was no hint of malice or disdain in his voice.

“Yes, but if you’d like him to leave, he’ll find somewhere else to be.”

“He respects you that much?”

“Yes, he does,” she smiled softly.

When they reached the gates of the Keep, Rhaenyra and the twins were already there waiting for them.

Rhaena and Baela greeted their sister warmly, pulling her into a tight embrace with bright smiles on their faces. 

Varaena was glad to see them. Though the two of them had been rather close with each other and had not devoted as much time to their sister, they still had a bond that only sisters could share. And with the girls betrothed to her brothers, it pleased her to know they would not stray too far from the family. 

Rhaenyra, however, was a different story. She regarded her daughter with a rather forced smile, putting on the face of a loving mother, though there was no affection in her touch.

“Hello, daughter. I hope you fare well,” Rhaenyra said.

“Well enough, I suppose. I hope you all had a pleasant journey.”

“Well, you know how much I hate ships. It doesn’t agree with me quite like dragon-riding.”

“Yes, Daemon told me that the maester had told you to avoid riding for the time being. I suppose congratulations are in order. Lucerys told me you named her Visenya.”

Rhaenyra pursed her lips. “Thank you, darling. She’s lovely. Quite the perfect little girl.”

It was a pointed jab, one that would go unnoticed by most, but Varaena felt it. And she knew it didn’t pass by Aemond, nor Lucerys.

“One can only hope she’ll live up to your every standard, mother,” Varaena replied, her voice dripping with disdain as she practically spat out that last word. 

Turning to the others she said, “If you’d like to head inside and settle in your chambers, the Queen and the Hand will see you in the Great Hall presently.”

Varaena looked at Aemond and nodded her head for him to follow her inside ahead of the others. Aemond once again nodded to Lucerys as he passed, and bowed politely to the twins, before following his wife inside, completely ignoring the other three. 

Varaena caught Daemon’s eyes narrowing at the two of them just before she turned around.

“Well, that was lovely,” Aemond said sarcastically.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from my mother. She’s always had a talent for making you feel entirely inadequate with only a few words.”

“I’d rather feed them all to Vhagar than bend the knee.”

Varaena smiled at him, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction in his response. There was something rather pleasing in his desire to kill her family rather than see them cause her pain.

“I wish there was something we could do,” Varaena sighed. “I agree, I’d rather not bend the knee, knowing my mother and Daemon as I do, but I don’t see what can be done about it. I disagree with your grandfather’s methods, and his and your mother’s choice of heir, but what other choice is there?”

She did, in fact, know of another way, but she had yet to tell him about it, and she was rather reluctant to do so. The only person she had told was Aegon, and she wondered if even that had been a wise choice.

“I don’t know. Perhaps if we had enough support we could declare your mother insane, put one of your brothers on the throne, but I’m not enthusiastic about that, either.”

“What aren’t you enthusiastic about?” Aegon asked as he approached.

“Aemond would rather not have to call one of my brothers king if he can help it,” Varaena grinned.

“Ah, yes, I can see how that would be a problem. The question is, though, why would you need to?”

“We’re trying to think of alternative solutions, seeing as none of us wish to see my mother crowned, and you have no desire for the throne,” she explained.

“Varaena!” Aemond hissed in warning.

“Oh hush, we can trust him.”

“Ye of little faith, brother. You should know me well enough by now to know I would never betray your trust.”

“Then by all means, Aegon, tell us what we should do.”

Aegon paused a moment to think, turning his head to look at Varaena as a silent conversation passed between them, which Varaena was sure didn’t go unnoticed by Aemond. She shook her head, telling Aegon that no, she hadn’t told Aemond what Viserys had told her.

“Well, I suppose your only option would be to find someone willing to challenge the line of succession, someone who has a great deal of support, and an army large enough to last through a war, which is exactly what it will come to no matter what.”

“And just who would be willing and able to do such a thing? Or do you not have the mental capacity to think of someone?”

“My first thought would be to install one of the boys, even though you detest the thought. They are Rhaenyra’s children, after all, and turning against them would probably set the whole of the Seven Kingdoms against her. Your other option might be Lord Stark, as the North is the largest of the Seven Kingdoms and has the most support of all of them. And I know that you have a rather close, personal relationship with the Lord, do you not, Varaena?” 

Aemond growled in warning, causing Aegon to snicker.

“He does make rather good points, Aemond, you have to admit.”

Aemond begrudgingly agreed, though he refused to admit that he would rather have one of Varaena’s brothers be king over Lord Stark.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to steal away your blushing bride for a bit, brother.”

“I’m hardly a blushing bride anymore, Aegon,” Varaena rolled her eyes.

“Really? Do you mean to tell me you didn’t blush once last night?”

Varaena’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and she turned to Aemond who had a rather sheepish look on his face, giving him a hard shove.

“What the fuck was that for?” Aemond groaned.

“For being unable to keep a damn thing to yourself,” she hissed.

Aegon laughed. “It’s not his fault. I’m the one who came to inform him of the Small Council meeting. I saw his disheveled look, and the clothes on the floor. I’m not as stupid as you all think I am.”

“For the record, I never thought you were stupid, only an arrogant asshole who doesn’t know how to hold his liquor,” Varaena said as she took Aegon’s extended arm.

“I’ll see you both later. I think mother wants to hold a dinner with the entire family in an attempt to stave off any hint of war,” Aemond called after them as they walked away.

Aegon waited till they were well out of earshot before laying into her.

“What the fuck are you thinking?” He practically shouted as he pulled his arm from hers and wheeled around to face her.

She played dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about! Why have you not told Aemond about Viserys’ wishes for you?”

“What is there to tell, Aegon? A mad man on the brink of death told me he wanted me to inherit the throne after him? No formal declaration, no word of it to anyone but me? What would be the point? It’s not as though it’s going to come to anything!”

“The point is that he should know! You have a claim to the throne, no matter what Viserys said! If you wished to contest Rhaenyra’s claim, put yourself forward, it’s not as though it would be illegitimate!”  

“Aegon, I don’t even know the first thing about ruling a kingdom, let alone seven! It was not I who was groomed to inherit, but my brothers! I can barely hold myself together, how am I supposed to keep together seven kingdoms who are more often than not at each other’s throats.”

“You’ve held your shitty family together for years! You’ve devoted every piece of yourself to their safety and wellbeing, never mind your own! I think that says something about your abilities, does it not?”

“I gave everything that I had to them, Aegon! Every fucking piece of me, and what did it get me? Being sold like a fucking broodmare, used as a pawn being pulled back and forth by two different families with no thought to my wellbeing, and being shunned by my own fucking parents for years because no matter what I did it was never enough for them!”

Her voice echoed through the empty hallways, and a few guards actually dared to look in her direction before resuming their stoic post. Aegon himself took a slight step back, his eyes widened at her outburst, having known her to be rather reserved when it came to her anger, choosing to give people the silent treatment rather than let it all out.

Varaen took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I’m not sure I could do it, Aegon. I’m not sure there’s enough of me left to do it.”

Aegon stepped up to her, taking her hands in his, in comfort. “You’re not alone, Varaena. You have Aemond, you have me, and I’m sure even Lucerys would be on your side at this point. You have only to say the word, and it will be done.”

Varaena nodded glumly, offering Aegon a weak smile as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. Varaena breathed in deeply, grateful for the growing relationship with this man before her. Never had she thought this would happen, but now she couldn’t imagine being without his friendship and support.

“Thank you, Aegon. For being there for me.”

“Of course, byka zaldrīzes. I’ll always be here for you,” Aegon smiled. 

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she inhaled sharply at the term of affection.

“Are you alright?” Aegon asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Yes, it’s just…that’s what grandfather used to call me.”

Aegon’s smile dropped a bit, sympathy flooding his face. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, continuing their walk and steering them towards her chambers. 

“He was so proud of you. Of all of us, he was the proudest of you.”

“He was proud of you too, Aegon. Even if he didn’t say it.”

Aegon said nothing, but squeezed her shoulder a bit tighter as they walked into her chambers and the door closed behind them.

Daemon watched from the shadows as his daughter and the drunken asshole Aegon argued in the corridors. He couldn’t make out their conversation, but it was clear to him that Aegon was saying something that Varaena didn’t want to hear. It wasn’t until she began shouting that he knew they were speaking of the family. Varaena was spewing some shit about sacrificing, as though she had any idea of what that truly meant. 

The entire time Daemon watched them, he assumed that Varaena was angry at Aegon, that she detested him and he was being his usual asshole self. But when he saw the two of them calm down, and move to embrace each other, Varaena clutching at him like her life depended on it, and Aegon wrapping his arms so tightly around her, he knew that she was lost.

And the rage within him grew exponentially.

Chapter Text

Varaena’s POV:

Varaena had thought that the dinners she’d had in the Keep for the last couple weeks had been the most awkward dinners of her life, but she had been completely wrong. 

This one topped them all by far. 

Tension had been apparent from the second they all sat down, with Rhaenyra taking her place where Viserys used to sit, at the center of the table, with Daemon to her left, and Jacaerys to her right.

Otto had visibly seethed, but quickly controlled himself before he took his own seat at one end of the table, next to Alicent who was in turn seated beside Jace.

The twins sat at the other end of the table, next to Daemon, while Lucerys sat to the right of Varaena, who was seated directly across from her mother, with Aemond to her left.

Varaena could see the whites of Otto’s knuckles as he grasped his utensils so tightly, she was sure they would bend under the pressure.

No one spoke for ages, the only sounds that of cutlery against the plates, and the sipping of wine from the goblets.

Aemond’s hand had drifted to her thigh at some point during the meal, steadying her leg which had been bouncing furiously under the table from high anxiety. Unable to meet her mother’s eyes, she dared a glance at Daemon, and found him studying her and Aemond with a cold intensity that made her shiver. His gaze drifted to Aemond’s arm, which was partly visible extending to his right, where it rested on her thigh, staring at it for a few moments. Briefly, he glanced over to Aegon, who was slouched in his seat, twirling his goblet around in his hands, trying to appear bored, though Varaena could tell he was watching everyone at the table. 

When Daemon’s eyes moved back to hers, he narrowed them suspiciously, but did not look away. 

She, too, kept watching him, not wanting to be the first to back down, but she was forced to look away when Otto decided to speak to her.

“How happy you must be, Varaena, to have your family back with you,” he said, his voice mockingly pleasant.

“Indeed, my Lord Hand,” Varaena plastered on a smile, “it’s lovely to have them back here with us, just as my grandsire would have wanted it.”

He pursed his lips, clearly understanding her hidden meaning. He opened his mouth to speak again, but jerked slightly, closing his mouth again he looked at his daughter, who shook her head telling him not to say anything.

The next to speak was Rhaenyra.

“I took the liberty of sending ravens to the closest lords and ladies who I knew to be absent from court, the moment I learned of the King’s passing, as I assumed you would not, Lord Hightower.”

The whole table paused for a moment at Rhaenyra’s use of his family title, rather than that bestowed upon him by the king. Though it was the proper way to address him, now that the king was dead, she knew that Otto would take it as an offence. 

“Many of them have replied that they will be here tomorrow for the coronation,” Rhaenyra continued.

“Coronation, your highness?” Otto asked, feigning ignorance.

Rhaenyra looked at him coldly. “Yes, Lord Hightower, coronation. It’s what’s usually done when a monarch dies, is it not? When their heir is of age, they are crowned in front of the masses, or, in this case, as many people as can be present.”

“Should we not wait? Till after the proper rites have been performed for the King’s passing?”

“The Seven Kingdoms are in a precarious place now, Lord Hightower, without a leader to guide them. One would think that would be an important issue to rectify? Or are you perhaps trying to stall, in favor of crowning someone else?” 

Rhaenyra’s eyes drifted to Aegon as she spoke, but he just grinned at her and winked.

“Rest assured, dear sister, I have no intention of stealing your throne,” he laughed, taking a swig of wine.

Rhaenyra didn’t seem to believe him, but she made no response to his comment. 

“Whether you agree or not, with as many lords and ladies present as can be at this time, I will take my place on the Iron Throne as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And if you do not wish to be arrested for treason, you will be present, and you will bend the knee.”

Rhaenyra and Otto stared each other down, no one around the table daring to move or say anything till the tension was broken. 

“Of course, your…majesty,” he ground out. 

Varaena decided she’d had enough. Unable to take anymore of this awkward and rather painful dinner, she stood from her seat, making excuses about being rather tired, and turned to leave, as she did so, she leant down to whisper in Lucerys’ ear, reminding him on their plan to meet later that night.

She had only made it halfway down the hall when Aemond and Aegon came up on either side of her.

“That didn’t take very long,” Aegon chuckled.

“Why are the two of you out here with me?”

“We wanted to make sure you were alright, you seemed quite anxious to leave.”

“I couldn’t stand another minute in their presence,” she growled. “All of them, with their veiled threats, while I sit there, waiting for the battle to begin.”

“What did you whisper to little Lucerys?” 

“I reminded him that he is to meet me in our chambers later, to talk. Away from prying ears. Which reminds me, Aemond, he has asked that you find somewhere else to be. At least for a time.”

Aemond groaned. “It’s bad enough that I must put up with the presence of those fucking bastards, but now I am ejected from my own chambers by a child?”

“Yes, poor you,” Varaena pouted mockingly. “I’m so sorry to be asking so much of you.”

“Oh shut up,” Aemond scowled, causing Varaena to laugh.

“Honestly, it’s not as though you are being permanently removed from my chambers, it’s only for a few hours.”

Aemond caught her hand, stopping her and pulling her back. He rested his forehead on hers, bringing his free hand up to cup her cheek.

“It had better be only a few hours,” he whispered, leaning in for a deep kiss. 

Varaena relished in the feel of his lips on hers, the taste of the wine still on his skin, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine. She let out a little sigh, sinking into the kiss, and into his chest, as his mouth explored hers.

A noise beside them brought them quickly back to the present. They broke apart to see Aegon mockingly gagging.

“Fucking hells, I almost miss the days when you two were at each other’s throats. At least that provided me with free entertainment, and not the desire to gouge out my own eyes.”

Aemond punched his brother in the arm, which Aegon took with a laugh. Varaena giggled at her husband’s reaction, clasping his hand even tighter.

“You know, you should really be a bit kinder to me, brother. You’ll be stuck with me while the two young ones have their little chat, and if you’re not careful, I can make the time rather unpleasant for you.”

“Play nicely, you two, I’d rather have my husband back in one piece,” she laughed. “Shall we sojourn to our chambers for a while? I have a rather nice bottle of wine I may or may not have nicked from the cellar. I believe Otto had requested it be saved for a special occasion.”

Aegon snorted. “Absolutely. Anything to piss him off.”

The two brothers offered her their arms, so she walked in the middle, her arms linked through both of theirs, while they joked and laughed all the way to her chambers.

What they did not know was that the dinner party had broken up just as they were setting off, and that the doors had opened, and Daemon and Rhaenyra had stepped into the hall, just as Varaena linked arms with the two of them, laughing at something Aegon said.

They had no way of knowing that Daemon’s hand had instantly gone to the sword he kept at his side at all times, nor that Rhaenyra had to physically stop him from acting on his desire, not wanting blood to be spilled unnecessarily.

They did not see Rhaenyra whisper something to Daemon, the anger and betrayal evident on her face, while she and her husband watched their daughter walk arm in arm with their enemies, her joyful laugh stoking the hatred they felt towards the Greens.

Varaena’s lungs ached from laughter as Aegon regaled them with yet another vulgar joke, and she was certain that she had seen Aemond crack a smile.

The hours had dwindled away as the trip drank wine and told stories and jokes as they lounged in front of the fire in her chambers. 

As soon as the laughter subsided, she found herself staring at the two of them, a rather wistful feeling taking over.

It felt good to have people, finally, who were there with her, and for her. Who did not seek anything from her, who treated her as one of their own, and truly enjoyed her company.

She had spent her entire life without any friends, besides her brothers, and even then, her time had been taken up with trying to take care of them and protect them, not spending time telling funny stories in front of a cozy fire.

It was a strange, foreign feeling to her, to feel like she actually had a life of her own for once.

A knock at the door jarred her from her thoughts, and she set her goblet down, standing at the same time as Aemond and Aegon.

“I suppose that’s our cue,” Aegon hiccupped. 

Varaena opened the door to Lucerys standing on the other side, looking a little nervous. She smiled at him, pulling him inside quickly before doing a quick cursory glance down the hall to make sure no one was there.

“Aegon, Aemond,” Lucerys nodded his head in greeting at the two of them, his voice cracking ever so slightly.

Aegon caught it, and opened his mouth to presumably make a joke, but Varaena cleared her throat and gave him a shake of her head. He grumbled in response, before grabbing his brother’s arm and dragging him towards the door.

“We’ll leave you both to it. I promise to bring your husband back in one piece, Varaena,” Aegon called as they stepped into the hallway.

“You had better, Aegon Targaryen, or tomorrow you’ll find yourself missing an appendage!”

Aegon’s laughter was the last thing she heard before she shut the door behind them, leaving her and Luc alone.

“I must admit, it’s rather strange to see you like this, sister,” Lucerys began as he took his seat where Aegon had been.

“What do you mean?”

“Seeing you so at ease with them, laughing and joking as though you’re old friends…even after your letters it’s still a little unsettling.”

“Completely understandable. After everything our families have been through, it’s no surprise you would still see them as the men they once were. I would feel the same if I were in your shoes.”

“So, you’ve been well? That is to say, they are all treating you well? I know I asked you when we arrived, but I was worried perhaps you were giving me a more savory answer considering our audience.”

“I am well, truly,” she smiled reassuringly. “I’ll admit, it’s taken quite a bit of adjustment, and Aemond and I are still only just beginning to sort ourselves out. We are far from perfect. But it’s been good. For the most part, anyway. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about that cunt, Otto Hightower. And I’ll still never be able to forgive mother and Daemon for their part in this. But at least they gave me my freedom, in a rather inadvertent and unintended way.”

“Yes, you mentioned that Otto had been approaching you, trying to force you into helping him.”

“He made some rather forceful threats, against my life, and yours as well. I’ll admit, I wasn’t quite sure what to do, but then the king died, which lifted the burden off me, I suppose. Though I’m sure he still has plans for my use, among others.”

“What is he planning? Should we be worried?” Lucerys furrowed his brow.

“Yes,” she nodded her head solemnly, “extremely worried. I fear I’ve always underestimated that man, as has mother and Daemon, and grandfather as well. He’s rather more cunning than we’ve ever given him credit for. Especially when it comes to his thirst for the throne.”

“So he is planning a coup?”

“He has been probably since the day grandmother died, perhaps even before then. Now, he wishes to install Aegon as king, as he claims he always should have been.”

“That bastard,” Luc growled. “What does Aegon have to say to this?”

“Aegon is…how did he put it? He’d rather become one of the supposed horse-fuckers of Essos than be named King of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Lucerys paled slightly, clearing his throat in an attempt to hide his uncomfortability. Varaena’s mouth quirked up in a grin, struggling not to laugh at her somewhat prudish brother.

“His words, not mine. But suffice it to say, he has absolutely zero interest in claiming the Iron Throne, not Otto has listened to a damn word he’s said. It makes me wonder if perhaps Aegon is merely a pawn in all of this himself. Perhaps the only reason Otto seeks to put Aegon on the throne is because he believes him to be pliable and easily controlled. Just goes to show how little he knows about his own grandson and heir of choice.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We?” she blinked at him.

“Of course we . Do you really think I’d let you fight this alone?”

“I just-I don’t want you to get mixed up in all this. You’re still so young, Luc. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

He smiled softly at her. “You can’t protect me forever, V. And I have a feeling that no one will be safe if it comes to war. Perhaps we should tell mother and Daemon, warn them-”

“No,” Varaena cut him off firmly. “I refuse to speak to them beyond what is absolutely necessary. And after they sold me to this fucking family, for what now seems to be a useless reason, I see no reason why I should help them.”

“But, Varaena, mother is heir to the throne, and Otto is talking about usurping that. He’s committing treason even just by speaking of it, let alone acting on it. Are we supposed to just sit by and let that go unpunished?”

“Lucerys, if it comes to war, I will do my part. I may not have any love for mother and Daemon, but I agree that Otto is committing treason, and I won’t allow him to succeed. But that doesn’t mean I will go out of my way to help mother and Daemon. I will fight him in my own way.”

“And how exactly is that?”

She hesitated. “I’ll tell you later, when Aemond returns with Aegon.”

“Why? Why not now?”

“Because Aemond needs to know this just as much as you do, and I would rather just tell you both at the same time so I don’t have to repeat myself.”

Lucerys was quiet for a moment. “About what you said in your letter…”

“Which part?” she joked.

“The part about you falling for Aemond again.”

“Oh. That part.”

“Your reaction leads me to believe that perhaps you were being a bit too hasty?”

“No, no, what I wrote is true. I suppose I just hoped you wouldn’t ask me about it, because I wasn’t sure how to explain it to you.”

“V, you know I will not judge you. Your life is your own, and after all you’ve done for us, after all you’ve given up, you deserve happiness.”

“Thank you, sweet boy,” she reached over to clasp his hand tightly for a moment. “I’ll admit, I’m a bit surprised, too, that I would find such a thing with Aemond of all people. Truth be told, I believed he’d hated me for the last six years. But it turns out I was wrong.”

“How do you know?”

“He told me as much last night, when we finally admitted the truth to each other.”

“You mean you actually discussed this with him?” Lucerys said incredulously.

“After much back and forth, and a great deal of pushing from Aegon, as well as a number of ugly fights. There were many times where I thought for sure I would strangle him, or perhaps even slit his throat in the middle of the night. Thank the gods I didn’t.”

“Well? How did it go?”

“It went how you’d expect it to. Of course it turned into another fight, I’m surprised our screams couldn’t be heard all the way to Flea Bottom. But it-it ended rather well,” she said quietly, her cheeks turning a bright pink.

Lucerys sat there for a moment, watching her with a puzzled expression, as though he were trying to decipher her meaning. Finally, she saw the light go off in his head, and his mouth dropped open as his eyes widened in realization.

“Varaena Velaryon,” he gasped. “Do you mean-that is to say, did you-I mean-”

He stumbled over his words, unable to ask the question he meant to as his modesty prevented him from doing so.

“Do you really want to know?” she teased, knowing full well what his answer would be.

“No,” he replied quickly, “I’d rather not get any details, thank you. My only question would be is this the first time? Surely on your wedding night…” 

“No, we did not. We were able to finagle our way out of the bedding ceremony, and when we returned to our chambers, though I expected it, Aemond said that he would not touch me that way unless we were both willing.”

“So, if I’m understanding you correctly, your first time was last night, because you were actually willing to? Gods, Varaena, I didn’t realize you were that far gone,” Lucerys laughed.

Varaena chewed at her bottom lip. “Do you hate me, now?”

To her relief, he looked at her with complete and utter shock, as though she had just asked him if he had murdered someone.

“Why would I ever hate you? Beyond that, how could I hate you?”

“I was just…I was afraid that when I told you the truth, you might think less of me, perhaps call me a traitor as I’m sure mother and Daemon would if they were here.”

“To be quite frank, mother and Daemon can fuck off.”

Varaena’s eyes widened and she let out a gasp, then a shocked laugh. Her brother was not known for his vulgar language.

“They don’t know the truth of it, and if they did, you’d think they, of all people, would understand, considering all they went through to end up together. And even still, you cannot choose who you love. They sent you in here, knowing you already had a history with Aemond. What did they expect would happen?”

“I’m sure they believed that I would control myself and remain faithful to the task they gave me. I don’t think they expected me to actually fight back for once.”

“Well I’m proud of you for doing so. But what does this mean for you, now? Are you loyal to the Greens?”

Varaena shook her head slowly. “I don’t believe it’s as simple as that, Luc. It seems to me that Otto is calling most of the shots, and that he hasn’t told Alicent much of what he is planning. I have a feeling that she is more or less just going along with it, most likely because her father has fed her some lie about it being what Viserys truly wanted.”

“So you don’t believe that she’s truly against mother’s claim?”

“I think she is, but more so for the reason that she doesn’t believe mother will be a fit ruler, just like we do. It has nothing to do with the fact that she’s a woman, or because of whatever damage was done between the two of them. She wants what’s best for the realm, she wants to fulfill Viserys’ wishes, she’s just been told that he wished for Aegon to be king.”

“Strange to hear you defending her,” Luc chuckled. “There was a time where I think you used the term ‘heinous bitch’ more often than not.”

“I think I understand her more now than I did then. I’ve found myself in much the same position, where my parents sold me off to further their own ambition, just as Otto did with her. He used her as a catalyst for his own rise to power, without regard for her own welfare, or feelings, much less a thought to the fact that she would be marrying a man who was quite literally old enough to be her father. The latter may not apply to me, but the rest surely does. So I suppose I can understand why she reacted in many of the ways she did. It’s not an excuse, really, but I understand.”

“What about you and Aemond? What happens to the two of you after all this?”

“I don’t know. I don’t see how we’ll survive this. If mother takes her throne, and whatever war comes of it ends in her favour, there’s no chance of her allowing Aemond and I to remain together. The same could be said if Otto gets his way. He’ll likely have us all executed to eliminate any threat of rebellion, regardless of how his grandson feels towards me.”

“I’m sorry, Varaena.”

“What for?” she gave him a bewildered look.

“That you have to go through this. You’ve already sacrificed so much, and now, when you finally have something good to call your own, it’s more than likely that it will be taken from you. It’s just so unfair.”

“It’s alright, sweet boy,” she offered him a sad smile. “My life was never meant to be a happy one. I resigned myself to that many years ago. All I want is for you, and all my other siblings, to lead happy, long lives.”

Luc’s face dropped at her words, but he said nothing. Time wore on as they talked about many things, ranging from her life at the Keep, to the things happening at Dragonstone. He and Jace were betrothed to Rhaena and Baela, respectively, and there was still much planning to do for their weddings.

“Why him?” Luc asked her, after a long period of silence.

“What do you mean?” she clarified.

“I know I said that we don’t have a choice in who we love, but, of all people, why him?”

She pondered the question for a moment. “I suppose…because he’s never seen me as any less than I am. And before you say it, yes, I know he used to call me bastard all the time, tell me I was the daughter of a whore, etc. But what I mean is that, for most of my life, I have been seen as the good little girl, the daughter who always does as she’s told, who takes care of her family no matter what, who doesn’t have opinions, who is kind and gentle, who doesn’t fight back.”

She rose from her seat and walked over to the fireplace, her fingers finding that little wooden dragon, tucked behind a candlestick holder. She gingerly picked it up, clutching it to her chest as she turned back to her brother.

“He was the only one who saw my potential. He saw the strength I never knew I had, he pushed me to be better, to actually want something for myself for once, instead of only striving for what others told me. He made me realize that while there is power in keeping quiet, it doesn’t mean I have to be silenced forever. Because that's what I was: silenced. I had no voice, no mind of my own. And perhaps I would have found it eventually, but if it hadn’t been for his relentless, and rather aggravating, pushing and needling, it might have been years before I had the courage to break from the box I had been shoved into my whole life.”

“Is the only reason you love him that he makes you feel stronger and more yourself? Because, I’m sorry, but that seems a bit insufficient to me.”

“No, it’s not just that. I think it has a lot to do with trust, too. I trust that he will never force me to be someone, or something, I don’t want to be. I trust that he will take care of me, keep me safe. I trust that he will never use, or abuse me. And beyond that, when I’m with him…my heart feels as though it might actually burst from my chest. Time seems to stop whenever he’s near, and it’s as though my very soul calls out to him. I feel as though I don’t have to hide, and it actually scares me to have a person see those parts of me I’ve kept tucked away for so long. But I truly love him, Lucerys. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to strangle him sometimes, but I love him enough to let him live.”

They both laughed a bit, and once they calmed down, Lucerys took her hand and held it tightly.

“I’m happy for you, sister. After everything you have done for us, you deserve love and happiness in your life.”

“Thank you, sweet boy,” she leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek, the tears starting to run over.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door, and it cracked open as Aegon and Aemond walked into the room.

They took one look at the pair, with their hands together, the tears running down her cheeks, and instantly concern washed over their faces.

“Are you alright?” Aemond asked as he walked over to her in two great strides.

“Perfectly fine,” she said. “Don’t mind me, just reminiscing, that’s all.”

She gave Luc a look, silently telling him not to say a word about what they had been speaking of.

“But,” she continued, “now that you’re all here, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“You want to do that now?” Aegon asked.

“When else would I do it? Besides, with all that’s happening it makes sense to do it now.”

“What are you two on about?” Lucerys asked.

“I’d rather know why you told Aegon whatever this is before you told me,” Aemond scowled.

“Because at the time, we weren’t speaking, so stop pouting like a child.”

“Face it, brother,” Aegon grinned, “she just loves me more.”

Aemond punched his brother in the arm, causing him to stumble back a few feet.

“Knock it off!” Varaena snapped. “Honestly, you two are worse than my baby brothers .”

Aemond had the decency to at least look a bit shamed, while Aegon just seemed to be enjoying the whole thing.

“What did you want to tell us?” Luc butted in, driving the conversation back to its original topic.

She took a deep breath. “Not many people know that I was one of the last people to see Viserys alive. I went to see him that afternoon, and while we were talking, he told me a few things that…I haven’t really been sure what to do about.”

She glanced over to Aegon who gave her an encouraging nod.

“Viserys told me that…he wanted me to be queen. He believed that it was not just my birthright, but my destiny to inherit the throne, and to unite the realm.”

Varaena could feel her hand shaking a bit as she looked away from Aegon, whom she had been staring at rather than facing her husband and brother as she told them this revelation. When she did look at them, Lucerys’ face gave away his complete and utter shock. His eyes wide, and his mouth hanging open slightly, he fell back into his chair.

Aemond, on the other hand, was completely unreadable. He didn’t flinch, didn’t bat an eye, at her words. But as good as he was at keeping his expression stoic, he wasn’t as good about controlling his body language. 

She could see his fists clenched, and his back stiff, his chin jutted out slightly in that way that told her he was offended, most likely because she had told Aegon first, and not him.

“Viserys told me of a dream he had. Well, he told me about several. But most importantly, the night before he died, when I went to see him, that was when he told me that if he’d had the chance, he would have made me heir. I questioned him about it, and at first he said it was because he saw Aemma in me, because he saw in me what no one else seemed to, that being all the aspects of a good leader. It wasn’t till I pressed him more that he told me of his dream, though he called it a vision from the gods.”

She remembered Viserys’ face as he recounted the dream to her, so enraptured, so faithful in it, that he refused to listen to her when she tried to argue it. Nothing she could say would change his mind. He was insanely adamant that his vision would come to pass, no matter what she, or anyone else, did.

“He told me that he saw a girl with white hair, wearing the Velaryon and Targaryen crest. She rode atop the mightiest dragon, even more so than Vhagar, fighting on the front lines of a great and bloody war. He watched her destroy her enemies with a single breath from her dragon, and he said that at the end of the battle, all the remaining soldiers cowered in fear as she walked through the field. Then the scene shifted, and she was walking up to the Iron Throne, and she was wearing Aegon the Conqueror’s crown.”

Even Aemond couldn’t hide his shock at this. All three of her boys were agape, Aegon having to take a seat as he processed this.

“When I asked him how he knew it was me, he said it was because he could see my scar, and that when he woke, there was a terrible storm outside, which he took to be a sign considering I was born during the worst storm of the century.”

“What scar?” Aegon asked.

Varaena gathered her hair in her hands and held it up over her head, revealing the long, thin scar at the base of her skull. She had been only three years old, and, as Viserys recounted it, he had taken her to the Dragonpit, hoping that she might find one to bond with. Her egg had not hatched, and though they had tried many times to bond her with one already in the Pit, he hoped that things might have changed. Viserys had turned his back for only a moment but she had seized the opportunity and wandered off, finding one of the dragons rather quickly. The beast had let her approach, only sniffing her for a bit, but when it let out a low growl, it had apparently scared her, and she stumbled, falling backwards and hitting her head on the edge of one of the rocks.

“He wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to tell him that he had to be mistaken. He was unwavering in his belief that I should inherit the throne, no matter what anyone else said.”

The room was silent, save for the crack and pop of the firewood. Aegon and Lucerys had both had to take seats, and they now sat there, frozen in surprise and disbelief.

Aemond had remained standing, but she could practically feel the anger radiating from him, though he tried to hide it.

“Well shit,” Aegon muttered, running his hands over his face. “You told me he wanted you on the throne, but you didn’t tell me he was that serious about it.”

“Varaena,” Lucerys whispered, “do you have any idea what this means?”

“It means nothing,” she shook her head. “It changes nothing.”

“This changes everything!”

“No, Luc, it doesn’t! I have no more of a claim than anyone else! Mother is still his legal heir, regardless of my feelings towards her. Viserys may have wanted me to be queen, but he did nothing about it, which makes it all just more dreams that will never come to pass.”

“But if you put yourself forward, if you gathered enough support, perhaps-”

“Perhaps nothing! I didn’t tell you this because I wanted to do something about it, I told you because-I don’t know, because I needed to tell someone, and you’re my brother, and Aemond is my husband. Whatever grandfather thought, he was wrong. I’m not made to be queen, I can’t unite the realm, I’m not a leader. I’m a nobody, with no voice, and no opinions.”

“Fuck that,” Aegon growled. “You and I both know you are so much more than that. You’re just a fucking coward, and too scared to admit that you might actually want something for yourself.”

“I am not a coward,” she snapped, her anger rising steadily. “This isn’t about me, this is about what’s good for the realm for the people, and that’s not me!”

“But Rhaenyra is?” Aegon shouted, and turning to Aemond he said, “Are you going to say anything? Or are you just going to stand there like a fucking mute?”

Aemond narrowed his eyes but said nothing. Aegon raised his hands and groaned in frustration, before turning back to Varaena.

“Look, Varaena, I get that you’ve been through shit, and I know that what your parents did to you messed you up inside, but that doesn’t mean you should let them stop you from living your life! From actually doing something for once in fucking ever!”

That was it. She was done.

“Get out,” she breathed.

“Excuse me?” Aegon scoffed.

“I said get the fuck out!”

She marched up to him and pushed him hard towards the door.

“I want both of you out! Just get out!”

Lucerys flinched a bit at her tone. She hardly ever raised her voice, and she had never done so around him. Losing her temper had become a recent occurrence, something which she attributed to her exposure to Aemond.

Aegon just stared at her for a moment, then he scoffed again and shook his head in disbelief, before wrenching the door open and storming out into the hall. Lucerys followed behind a moment later, looking back at Varaena one last time, but she was too angry to notice.

She might have just let his comments go, ignored his entire argument, but when he brought her parents, and their actions, into the picture, that was the last straw for her.

She paced back and forth around the room, trying not to scream in anger, wanting to strangle the prick. She had completely forgotten there was someone else there.

“Are you done yet?” Aemond droned from across the room.

She stopped in her tracks and glared at him. “ Now he decides to speak. Thank you so much for your support, it was much appreciated.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my wife had been keeping such a big secret from me, and that she had apparently told my brother already, for whatever fucking reason. I mean, how long did you plan to keep this from me?”

“I wasn’t trying to keep it from you! It just didn’t seem necessary to tell, because it’s not as though anything is going to come of it.”

“Then why tell us at all? If you’re not going to do anything about it, why bring it up?”

“I don’t know!” She screamed.

“You know, maybe Aegon was right, maybe you are a coward. Maybe you do want to be queen, but you’re too fucking scared to do a fucking thing about it!”

Varaena reached out and slapped him, hard. The shock of it made her hand sting, but she ignored it, because damn it felt good to do that again.

Aemond simply grinned darkly, and it just made her angrier. She went to strike him again, but he was faster, and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her in closer to him, till their chests were flush against each other.

“Aegon was right, Varaena. You’ve never wanted a single thing for yourself, but now you have the chance, and you’re throwing it away. Why?”

“Because I don’t know how to do it!” She burst out. 

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know how to want something! I don’t know how to fight for it! My entire life, I’ve always been told what to wear, what to say, what to want. I’ve been taught to be pliable, to like whatever my parents, or my brothers, or my future husband even, might like. To want something of my own, to do something for myself, was selfish, and to speak up for myself was disrespectful. How can I lead even one of the kingdoms, let alone the entire realm, if I can’t even speak my own mind? Not that I know my own mind, because I never had the chance to think for myself.”

“Then take this chance! You’ve been handed a golden opportunity, so why pass it up?”

“Because I’m scared, Aemond. What if I fail? What if I can’t make him proud?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Aemond sighed and he pulled her into his arms. She wrapped hers tightly around him in response, basking in the warmth and comfort of his hold.

“He was always proud of you, Varaena, and this wouldn’t change it. What he wouldn’t be proud of is you letting your fear control you. He’d want you to stand up for yourself for once.”

“I miss him,” she sniffled.

“I know you do. But he’s watching over you, I’m sure of it.”

Varaena pulled back and looked into Aemond’s eyes. For once, instead of seeing his piercing gaze, she saw one filled with love, and it made her heart clench. She stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his lips, her fingers digging into his back.

Aemond returned the kiss, deepening it as his tongue forced her lips open and allowed him access. He bent down for a moment, never breaking the kiss, so he could take her legs and wrap them around his waist, and carried her back to the bed.

But instead of laying her on her back, he turned around so that she was on top, and let her ride him over and over, each time more pleasurable than the last, until dawn finally broke. 

And in the dim morning light, when he had fallen asleep, she stroked his hair, and watched as his chest slowly rose and fell with each breath, whispering in his ear how much she loved him. 

Because even though they had both admitted it to one another, they had not uttered the words since, and she wondered if perhaps he had meant it, or if it was simply a heat of the moment type thing. 

But she knew, with every part of her, that she was entirely his. Her body and soul belonged to him, and she would never be free of him. Even when the day came when they were separated, by death or by war, she would still belong to him, and he would still remain a part of her.

Aegon wondered if he was making a big mistake by doing this, but it was too late to turn back now. He knew that Varaena was never going to change her mind. But, perhaps with enough people, she could be made to.

He just wanted her to see in herself what he saw. Wanted her to understand that despite the trauma she had endured, she was still fierce, and smart, and strong, and the entire realm would be lucky to have her as their queen.

The door in front of him opened after a few moments, the golden glow of the candlelight illuminating her face.

“Aegon?” Alicent whispered sleepily. “What are you doing awake at this hour?”

“I need to speak with you mother. It’s important.”

“It couldn’t wait till morning?”

“No. It absolutely cannot.”

Alicent looked at him, studying his face, then she stepped aside and held the door open for him to walk in, before letting it close with a soft click.

Chapter Text

Aegon’s POV:

Aegon caught Lucerys walking down to the Great Hall the next morning, so he quickly grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a random, empty chamber.

“What in the Seven Hells?” Lucerys grumbled. 

“I need to talk to you,” Aegon whispered. “It’s about Varaena.”

“Does this have anything to do with what she told us last night? I can only assume that you’re going to try and convince me to support you against my sister.”

“Well, yes and no. I may or may not have done something last night, but before 

I tell you what, please enlighten me on where you stand on this subject,” Aegon said nonchalantly.

Lucerys narrowed his eyes. “I may live to regret this, but I do in fact agree with you. I think my sister is rather stubborn, and she’s also extremely self-deprecating. I don’t see any version of this where she actually believes that she’s good enough for this. Believe me, I have tried and failed for the better part of a decade to convince her of her worth, but it seems that whatever trauma she has experienced at the hands of our mother and Daemon, among others I’m sure, has left her unable to see what I see. But now, tell me what the fuck you’ve done, Aegon, because, I swear to all the gods, if you’ve done anything to hurt Varaena, I’ll-”

“Don’t get your balls in a twist, little Velaryon, I haven’t done anything to hurt her…I don’t think. I may or may not have…told…someone. About what my father said.”

Aegon gave Lucerys a sheepish grin, while Lucerys’ eyes widened, practically popping out of his head.

“You did…WHAT? Are you fucking crazy?” he hissed.

“Your sister would not see sense, so I figured the only way to ensure she went through with this, was to somehow compel her. If we had enough support, she might be able to see sense. Or, at the very least, we force the crown on her head.

“Aegon, who did you tell?”

“No one in particular, just my mother,” he whispered the last part, hoping that perhaps Lucerys hadn’t heard him.

But the look on his face told Aegon that he caught every word.

“You told the queen? Have you lost your fucking mind?” Lucerys raged.

Aegon stifled a laugh. “I’m sorry, I know this is a serious situation, but hearing you curse is almost like hearing a puppy try to bark.”

Lucers looked like he was ready to strangle Aegon. “I have no idea what my sister sees in you, because to me, you seem like you’re one drink and one bad move away from your grave. If you even say the wrong thing, I worry someone might actually kill you.”

“Aw, that’s sweet, you worry about me?”

“I care about my sister, and she seems to like you, so I’d rather she not lose one of the only friends she has.”

“Whatever,” Aegon rolled his eyes. “Either way, yes, I told my mother, because whatever you may think, she actually holds affection for your sister, and, wouldn’t you know it, she actually agrees with my plan.”

“And what plan would that be?” Lucerys crossed his arms.

“Rhaenyra is going to be crowned shortly, but she won’t be able to stay. She’ll have to return to Dragonstone, and secure her belongings to be returned to the Keep. It’s more than likely that the rest of your family will return with her, because gods know Daemon cannot be separated from her, and Jacaerys is too much of a mama’s boy to stay behind. But that puts her already weak reign in danger, and leaves the throne ripe for the taking. I propose that while she remains here, we gather as much support for Varaena as we can, and crown her the moment Rhaenyra’s ship is out of sight. Then we can work on gathering forces, and create a plan to fight back, because we all know that Rhaenyra will not go quietly.”

“And what did Alicent have to say to this? Surely she didn’t actually agree.”

“She did, in fact. Actually, it was all her idea. My original plan was to take the Blacks captive and sell them to the Dothraki warlords while we crowned Varaena, and danced naked under a full moon.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lucerys groaned.

“Of course I’m kidding,” Aegon snorted. “About the dancing, that is. I was being serious about the Dothraki.”

“We are not selling my mother and brother to the Dothraki.”

“So, does that mean I can at least sell Daemon?”

“No! As it is, I don’t know how you plan to get any support for Varaena. Many of the people who don’t support my mother rest their disapproval on the fact that she’s a woman and you are a man, and thereby the only legal heir, as is tradition. How can we expect them to approve of my sister, when it would only fall into the same argument?”

“I haven’t quite worked that out yet. If we could somehow find some evidence that Viserys wanted her to inherit the throne, that would put to rest any rumours of the legality of it, and perhaps if I were to publicly abdicate whatever claim I may hold, that might settle the dust regarding her sex.”

“Even if we could do all that, what’s to say Varaena won’t just do the same and abdicate the throne the moment she’s crowned?”

“That'll be dependent upon my dear brother, who will be given the task to somehow convince her that she’s capable and worthy. How, I’m not sure, but he’ll figure it out. He always does. But for now, we just need to somehow get through this ridiculous coronation without starting a war.”

“Agreed,” Lucerys chuckled.

Varaena’s POV:

Varaena was sure her heart was about to stop beating altogether. The anxiety and dread she felt at what she knew was coming. Her mother had sent word that the coronation would be today, and she was still undecided about what to do. 

She felt that bending the knee would be a betrayal of her conscience, and, while she didn’t agree with her grandfather’s declaration as far as she was concerned, it obviously was no longer his wish that Rhaenyra be queen, and to pledge her loyalty to her mother felt like a betrayal to him as well.

“What are you thinking?” Aemond’s voice jarred her from her thoughts.

She turned around from where she had been looking at herself in the mirror, to find him leaning against the wall, watching her very intently.

“Nothing,” she tried to brush him off.

“Don’t lie to me, Varaena, I know the wheels in your mind must be furiously turning, trying to make sense of this all.

“I just…I don’t know what to do, Aemond. I feel that I can’t bend the knee to her, but if I don’t, I’ll be arrested and most likely executed for treason. But if I do, she’ll have won, and we’ll be separated, and I’ll spend the rest of my life living a lie.”

“You have to do what you feel is right, Varaena. But if you want my advice, perhaps wait until we get down there and see what the atmosphere is like. It could very well be possible that the number of people who dislike her outnumbers those who support her.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” she lumbered over to him and wrapped her arms around him, leaning her head into his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her as well, pulling her in tightly. He always held her as though it might be their very last moment together in this life, like he was afraid she might disappear, or her very touch was what gave him life. 

“Have you given any more thought to my father’s last wishes for you?” 

“Not you too,” she groaned. “Why does everyone have to keep harping on that?”

“Because we care about you, Varaena. And we know that you can’t see it, but we can, and I’m sure we all can agree that vVserys knew what he was saying when he said you’d be a great queen. And besides that, what if his dreams truly were visions from the gods? Are you willing to ignore that?”

Varaena pondered that for a moment and opened her mouth to say something, but apparently Aemond wasn’t done.

“In truth, you were not the only one Viserys told his dreams to. He told me a similar dream, in which he saw you on the throne, still covered in the blood of your enemies, with Aegon the Conqueror’s crown upon your head, and myself at your side. I thought he was mad, but perhaps not.”

“You knew this whole time, and you said nothing?” Varaena tried not to let the hurt show through in her voice.

“To be fair, you didn’t tell me either,” he grinned.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. But still, I’m very cross with you.

“As I am with you. Now, back to the point. Viserys believed that you could unite the realms, and usher in a new era of the Targaryen dynasty. He had endless dreams of a great, bloody war, with you and your mother at the helm, standing on opposing sides. He could never see what happened to Rhaenyra, which I know pained him greatly, but in every single one of them, it ended in your victory.”

“Then why not make some formal declaration? Why speak of it only to a few people instead of making his intentions known? What was the point?”

“I cannot speak to that. You make a valid point, one that I have wondered myself. It seems to me that if Viserys cared enough to make you Queen, he would have made it known. But we’ll never know now. All you can do now is decide how you’re going to move forward. Whatever you decide, I’ll stand behind you.”

Varaena smiled sadly at him, reaching up to kiss him tenderly.

“But, if I may make a suggestion, perhaps bending the knee now is not such a bad idea. If you aren’t sure what to do about Viserys’ wish, and you refuse to swear fealty to Rhaenyra, you could be putting yourself in danger for no reason, which I will not allow. The worst thing that will happen is you decide to make a move for the throne, breaking whatever oath of loyalty to your mother you’ve made, but, given the circumstances, I doubt the gods will damn you for it.”

She nodded her head solemnly, contemplating his words, before reaching down to straighten her dress as she took a deep breath to steady herself.

“We’d best get down to the Great Hall. I’m not sure when my mother will be there, and I’d rather not be late.”

Aemond offered her his arm, which she took gratefully, and he led her down to the Hall. A dozen lords and ladies milled about, waiting for the arrival of their new Queen. Behind the throne, where once had hung a banner of the Seven-Pointed Star, now hung a banner of black and red, bearing her mother’s crest, with the Targaryen crest on the top left and bottom right, the Arryn crest of her grandmother’s family on the top right, and the Velaryon crest on the bottom left. 

Closer to the throne, her brothers and sisters stood to the right, along with a few of the more staunch supporters of Rhaenyra, though it seemed there was a little space between Lucerys and the rest.

On the other side of the room, Alident stood next to Helaena, her arm around her shoulder, comforting her daughter, with Otto standing a few paces away from them, and Larys Strong lurking in the shadows. The sight of him made Varaena’s stomach roil.

Aegon stood next to his mother, not far from the steps to the throne, but his eyes were trained on Otto, every so often glancing over to Lucerys, and she could’ve sworn she saw Lucerys shake his head slightly while making eye contact with Aegon.

She and Aemond descended the steps and came to a stop in the middle of the floor, a few yards from the throne. 

Aemond broke away to speak to his brother, while Lucerys quickly came to stand next to Varaena, though the look on his face told her that something wasn’t right.

“Is everything alright, Luc?”

Lucerys started. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You just seem a bit upset, and you and Aegon keep looking at each other weird…”

“Everything’s fine, sister. Nothing to worry about.”

His tone did not reassure her.

“Have you decided what to do, yet?” Lucerys finally asked.

“No. Aemond suggested that perhaps I make the oath now, believing that not doing so when I’m not sure whether or not to take the throne myself might just put me in danger when I have no reason to be. He has a point, but it’s a bit difficult for me to promise something that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to hold to.”

“I understand, V. If I may, one of your biggest strengths is your loyalty, but it’s also one of your biggest weaknesses. You have given your loyalty far too freely in the past, in my opinion, to people who are wholly undeserving of it. I cannot make this decision for you, but perhaps it might be helpful to think of this as less of swearing loyalty, but more an act of self-preservation.”

Varaena opened her mouth to respond, but then, the doors to the Great Hall opened, and the lords and ladies quickly fell into line on either side of the hall.

A reverent silence fell over the crowd, and Varaena turned to see her mother and Daemon descending the steps. 

Rhaenyra was dressed in a luxurious gown of red and black silk, with a cape that trailed a few feet behind her. Her long, white hair had been brushed and left to hang down her back. She had a look of solemnity, though Varaena could see just a hint of a smirk that she knew probably went unnoticed by everyone else.

Daemon, clad in a black, leather tunic, and black trousers, with Dark Sister strapped to his side, walked to the right of his wife, a few paces behind. He, too, also wore a cape, leading Varaena to believe that both his and Rhaenyra’s bore the Rhaenyra’s personal crest. 

Varaena moved to the side of the room to let them pass, choosing to stand between Aemond and Aegon, while Lucerys stood just behind her. Her eyes drifted over to Jacaerys, and she saw him eyeing her with curiosity, and perhaps a bit of resentment. He noticed Lucerys standing with her and the brothers, and he pursed his lips at the sight.

Rhaenyra came to a stop at the foot of the dais, where stood the Grand Maester, the High Septon, and a few of the other septons. 

The entire room was silent, holding their breath in anticipation as one of the septons brought forth a small jug of oil, which the High Septon dipped his finger into, before turning back to Rhaenyra, who knelt on one knee in front of him.

“May the Warrior give her courage,” the High Septon’s voice echoed through the hall. “May the Smith lend strength to her sword and shield. May the Father defend her in her need, and may the Crone lift her shining lamp and light her way to wisdom.”

The High Septon swept his finger across Rhaenyra’s brow, anointing her, and another septon stepped forward, carrying the crown of her father. The High Septon picked up the crown, and, turning back to face the room while holding the crown between his hands, he said, “Let the Seven bear witness. Rhaenyra Targaryen is the heir to the Iron Throne, and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.”

The crown looked so heavy upon Rhaenyra’s head, a very telling sign to many. Rhaenyra stood, nodding her head to the High Septon in thanks as he bowed and stepped back.

“Presenting,” the High Septon boomed once more, “Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. Long live the Queen!”

“Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen!” The whole room echoed his words.

Rhaenyra turned back to the throne, slowly ascending the steps, and, sweeping aside her cloak, she took her place upon the seat her father once sat in.

Her eyes scanned the room for a moment, most likely assessing those present.

“Ser Harrold Westerling,” Rhaenyra called.

The man stepped forward, still wearing his armor but divested of his silver cloak.

“I name you Lord Commander of the Queensguard,” Rhaenyra said, while Ser Harrold bowed low in fealty and gratitude. “The position of Hand of the Queen shall be taken by my King Consort, Daemon Targaryen. Princess Rhaenys, what news of Lord Corlys?”

Varaena’s eyes widened a bit at the mention of her grandmother. She had not even noticed the princess being present. But, indeed, the black-haired beauty stepped forward, still wearing her riding leathers, presumably having flown on Meleys from Driftmark. 

“My Lord Husband is in better health, and should be fully recovered within the week,” Rhaenys informed the Queen.

“Please inform him that when he is fully recovered, he is to remain the Master of Ships.”

Rhaenys dipped her head, but Varaena could see the way her mouth pinched, and her jaw muscles flexed. She knew Rhaenys had not held much love for Rhaenyra for many years, and it had only deteriorated after the death of Ser Laenor, which Rhaenys had always quietly suspected Rhaenyra had a hand in.

“The Master of Coin shall be Lord Bartimos Celtigar, and for the Commander of the City Watch I name Ser Luthor Largent.”

Varaena did not recognize these names, nor did she recognize the faces of the men who stepped forward to accept the positions given to them, but then again, she did not pay much attention to the lords who offered their staunch support for her mother.

“When I speak your name,” Rhaenyra continued, “you will step forward and make your oath to your Queen, and her heir. Jacaerys Velaryon, step forward.”

Jace stepped up to the foot of the dais, and knelt down on one knee, swearing an oath of fealty to Rhaenyra as Queen. But Rhaenyra decided to take it a step further, and made a move that no one had been expecting. Except for Varaena.

She stood from the throne, and, in a steady and clear voice, said, “I, Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, do hereby name Jacaerys Velaryon Prince of Dragonstone, and heir to the Iron Throne.”

Varaena’s heart thudded in her chest, and she felt the gaze of dozens of eyes fall upon her as a wave of whispers passed through the room.

It was a deliberate snub, and everyone could see it. 

In past years, no one would have thought twice about Jace being named heir over Varaena, despite her being the firstborn, simply because he was the first son. But, given Viserys had named Rhaenyra heir, and she had just been made Queen, everyone had naturally assumed Rhaenyra would follow the same example, and work to abolish the very tradition that had almost prevented her from taking the throne.

One by one, the lords and ladies were called forward to pledge their oaths of fealty to Rhaenyra, and her named heir. Many did so without hesitation, though there were a few that Varaena could pick out who were loyal to Otto Hightower, and when the man in question was called forward, he made his oath through clenched teeth. Alicent stumbled over her words a bit, but otherwise had no trouble, and Aegon did so without hesitation. Aemond followed his example, and she knew that the two of them had done so simply because they didn’t want to draw any suspicion. Or, at least, any more than was already there.

Lucerys, however, had had a slight pause between a few of his words, and had slowly sunk to his knee, something which apparently went unnoticed by everyone but Varaena. 

He made the oath nonetheless, which satisfied Rhaenyra, and a small smile crossed her face.

Finally, it was her turn.

“Varaena Velaryon. Step forward, and make your oath,” Rhaenyra said firmly.

She took a shuddering breath, hoping no one noticed the nerves that left her trembling slightly. As she approached the steps, her mother looked at her with a hard gaze, and Daemon regarded her with a severity she had not seen for a long time.

It was a clear message.

Don’t fuck this up.

But she couldn’t stop herself.

Varaena glanced over to Aemond, hesitating for just a moment. She saw just a hint of a nod from him, which gave her the courage to turn her gaze back to her mother, who’s expression had gone from one of cool indifference, to repressed rage. 

Daemon looked absolutely murderous.

“I, Varaena Velaryon, promise to be faithful to Q-Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, and her named heir Jacaerys Velaryon. I pledge fealty to them, and shall defend them against all enemies, in good faith, and without defeat. I swear this by-by the Old Gods and the New.”

Her tongue felt too heavy in her mouth, and her shoulders felt as though they were carrying the weight of the world. She did not bother to meet her mother’s eyes again, but instead, stood from where she had been kneeling, and slowly backed away to stand beside Aemond once again.

She felt Aemond’s hand travel to the small of her back, offering silent support as she struggled to stop trembling. 

It wasn’t from the fear of what Daemon or Rhaenyra might say, or do to her. 

No, it was because of what she had decided. 

Standing in that room, listening to everyone make their oaths, and none of them were to her. Despite her reservations, she was owed the title of heir. She deserved it. After everything she had sacrificed so her family could live their lives happily, she deserved to be given this honor. 

But, of course, her mother had awarded it to Jace instead.

And so, as she knelt on that floor, reciting a pledge she didn’t believe in, she resolved to do what she hadn’t believed she was capable of doing.

She was going to make a move for the Iron Throne.

Consequences be damned.

Rhaenyra’s POV:

She had done it.

She had finally won.

The thing she had been so desperately grasping for her entire life was now hers. She only hated that it had to come at the loss of her father.

Rhaenyra felt a sense of triumph, which was only inflated by the memory of Otto’s face when he was forced to bend the knee, and that bitch Alicent as well.

She was prepared for them to fight back. She had no doubt that they already had their plans, it was only a matter of time now.

Sitting on that throne, the one she had spent so many years of her life hating, and longing for, it was like all the pieces were falling into place, and not even the thought of a possible war on the horizon could temper that. 

The lords and ladies there supported her and her claim to the throne. At least, most of them did.

Her gaze fell on her daughter, her greatest disappointment in life, and she clenched her fists in anger.

“We have to do something,” Daemon spoke in a low voice. “I worry if we wait any longer, she’ll be too far gone.”

“Indeed. Seeing her with those two cunts made me sick,” Rhaenyra sneered. “She has forgotten her place. It’s high time we remind her of it.”

“The only issue is how. She will not be so easily separated from them now,” Daemon pointed out.

“Now that I am Queen, and given the fact that she has proven utterly useless as a spy, I see no need to keep up the farce that is their marriage. It shouldn’t be too hard to have it annulled.”

The two of them were silent for a moment, before Daemon posed a rather interesting idea.

“I do believe she has spent far too much time away from Dragonstone. Perhaps we should return there. Tonight.”

Rhaenyra smirked, her mind already spinning with the possibilities of how they could get her there. She shifted slightly, drawing her hand away from the arm of her seat, but she quickly jerked her arm to her jest as a flare of pain radiated through her arm.

“What is it?” Daemon asked, his voice full of concern.

She looked down at her hand, and her heart stopped. But she just shook her head in response to his question, refusing to say anything. 

Knowing she should leave before anyone saw, she hastily stood, and began descending the steps.

The people who had been milling about quickly retreated to either side of the room, creating a path for her to walk through, and they bowed as she passed them.

Rhaenyra came to a brief stop in front of her daughter, looking her up and down and she slowly curtsied, a strange gleam in her eye.

She did not miss the way Aemond’s arm curved around behind her.

Varaena’s POV:

She did not cower as her mother passed.

She had spent her entire life doing that, and she was done.

She knew her mother had seen the way Aemond’s arm disappeared behind her back, his hand still resting on her. She leaned into his touch ever so slightly relishing the feel of it.

But she also saw the way her mother clutched her hand, doing her best to hide it from the view of others.

And when she walked away, she saw the drop of blood that had fallen on the floor, and the little stream of it that ran down the underside of Rhaenyra’s hand. 

Iron cuts deep.

Chapter Text

Varaena swept out of the Great Hall as quickly as she could, not even bothering to look back and see if Aemond was following her. The entire coronation had left a bad taste in her mouth, and she was in no mood to face conversation with her family. The look on her mother’s face when she had hesitated to bend the knee was enough to send some of the strongest men to meet the Stranger early. 

For her, it was just another reminder of her separation from her family, of her constant disappointment to them. And it brought back memories she had worked so hard to keep buried.

She rounded a corner, letting out a sigh, then a gasp as she bumped into a hard chest.

She lifted her head to apologize and met Aegon’s wide gaze.

“Varaena, I need to talk to you,” he said hurriedly.

“Can it wait?” She asked, already eyeing an escape. “I just-”

“No, it can’t wait,” he shifted his eyes around before taking her arm and pulling her along with him.

“Aegon, can you stop dragging me along? I’m not a child!” Varaena wrested her arm from his grasp. “Honestly, what is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry Varaena, but I swear, it’s urgent.”

“Fine, fine, what’s the issue? Don’t tell me you got drunk and broke yet another priceless relic? You know your mother said she’d send you to the wall if it ever happened again.”

“It’s not that, though, it is rather ironic that you should mention my mother, because-”

“Ah, there you are,” Alicent spoke as she approached them. “I need to speak to the two of you, it’s rather important.”

“Of course, your- I mean Lady Hightower,” Varaena corrected herself, remembering that she was no longer the Queen.

“Varaena, may I speak with you first?” Aegon insisted.

“Not now, Aegon, your mother has something important to say.”

“Varaena,” he whined a bit, trying to convey something with his eyes, but failing miserably.

“What, Aegon, what is it?” she snapped.

He looked sheepishly between his mother and her, but before he could even open his mouth, Alicent spoke up.

“I think what my son is trying to say is that he has made me aware of my late husband’s wishes in regards to your ascension to the throne, and I’ve come to discuss them with you, if I may.”

She completely froze, her brain still trying to process what Alicent said. It didn’t matter to her that she had decided to put forth a claim for the throne, thereby negating the reason why she had sworn Aegon to secrecy. The point was that she had asked him to not say anything, and he had promised not to.

Aegon, who had become her closest friend here, who she believed she could trust with anything, had not only broken her trust, but gone running to his mother, who, though she held Alicent in greater esteem than she once did, she still didn’t fully trust.

 She slowly looked over at Aegon, who stood there looking appropriately shameful.

“You…did…what?” she asked slowly, her tone taking a dangerous edge as she took a step towards him.

He splayed his hands in apology. “I’m so sorry, Varaena, I just-”

“How could you do this?” she snapped. “I trusted you! I explicitly told you that I didn’t wish for anyone else to know, and what did you do? You went running to your mother!”

“I’m not sure that’s very fair, Varaena,” Alicent tutted. 

“With the greatest respect, Lady Hightower, please stay out of this. You know I hold great affection for you, and respect, and I’m grateful we’ve been able to put aside the past, but I made it very clear to Aegon my intentions regarding this matter, and he blatantly disregarded those, so I don’t appreciate you coming to his defense.”

“My son did what he thought was right, Varaena, surely you can understand that.”

“What I understand is that I placed my trust in him about a matter that I had not even discussed with my husband at the time, and he promised he would say nothing, and yet at the first opportunity, he broke that promise. How does that make it the right thing?”

A hand suddenly came to rest on her back, making her jump a bit in surprise.

“Is everything alright?” Aemond asked, stepping closer to her.

She crossed her arms and turned back to Aegon. “Your brother told your mother about what the King had said to me, even after I explicitly asked him not to say anything to anyone.”

“What the fuck, Aegon?” Aemond growled, taking a fighting stance in front of his brother. “Are you a complete idiot?”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk,” Aegon snorted, finally speaking. “I’m not the one who spent 6 years pining after a girl, only to treat her like shit the second I saw her again.”

Aemond clenched his fists, and she could see his nostrils flaring. For the time being, she chose to ignore Aegon’s comment about the 6 years of pining, knowing it would hardly help the situation for her to tease Aemond about it.

“Children, please,” Alicent begged, trying to come between the two.

“We’re not children, mother,” Aegon groaned. 

“Then stop acting like it,” was her huffed response. “Honestly, Varaena, I would appreciate a more private conversation, if you please.”

“I’m afraid I don’t, Lady Hightower. I made my position clear to your son, which I can only assume is why he went running to you, and I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

“There’s where you’re wrong, my dear. This decision affects the entire land, from Sunspear all the way to the Wall, and can you honestly tell me that you would prefer to have Rhaenyra sit the throne?”

Varaena was silent at that.

“This is not a decision you should make lightly, as I feel you have,” Alicent continued. “If Viserys wanted you to be Queen, I would stand by him in that.”

“You are free to believe whatever you wish, Lady Hightower, but it is still my decision to make, and I don’t appreciate either of you forcing my hand. I’m not a doll that you can move about as you wish.”

As if she would tell them her new decision now. At some point, yes, she would inform them of her intentions, but for now, she was feeling far more secretive, and slightly petty.

“I never said you were, my dear. I’m only trying to say that I don’t believe you have entirely thought this through, weighed all the outcomes, all the possibilities, good and bad. I believe you have made a somewhat rash decision based on the fear of what Rhaenyra might do in retaliation.”

“Mother!” Aemond hissed.

“The fact that you would say such a thing shows just how little you know or understand, Lady Hightower. You have spent so much of your life pandering to the whims of the men around you, especially your father, letting them guide you, force you into things you never wanted. It’s a wonder you have any backbone at all. Well, forgive me for trying to grow some for myself!”

The three of them stood staring at her, their mouths opened slightly. She was not known to raise her voice often, preferring to voice her anger in other ways, but she would be damned if she would stand by and be insulted simply because she had made a decision others did not agree with. 

Alicent’s face had gone red, from embarrassment or anger she didn’t know, but it took her a few moments to collect herself before she could speak again, and then she turned to her son rather than address Varaena directly.

“Aemond,” Alicent turned to her youngest son, pleading, “you must convince her. Surely you can agree with us?”

Aemond stared into his mother’s eyes for a moment, before turning his gaze to his wife and doing the same. Her eyebrows quirked in curiosity, knowing that in days past, he would have blindly stood with his mother, but now, he was a complete wild card.

“I have to stand with Varaena, mother. Whatever her decision, I will support her. Now, if you will excuse us.”

He took her by the hand and led her swiftly away from his mother and brother, who stared after them with exasperated looks. 

“Aemond, wait,” she panted, pulling him to a stop.

“What is it? What’s the matter?”

But she said nothing as she pulled him close and took his face in her hands, pulling him down to her lips and kissing him deeply. His hands planted themselves on her hip and back, while hers worked their way through his hair. She held him close as she could, feeling him hard against her lower belly, causing her to shiver.

“What was that for?” He cracked a smile as he pulled away, leaving them both breathless.

“No particular reason,” she smiled sweetly. “Only that I found the way you supported me against your mother and brother rather…attractive.”

He cocked a brow. “Really? If that’s all it takes to get you going, perhaps I should do it more often.”

“Oh, it won’t take that much to pique my interest. But it certainly doesn’t hurt.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind. But personally, I also found it incredibly alluring the way you told my mother to fuck off, ” he smirked as he pulled her back in, leaning down till their noses touched and she could feel his hot breath on her face. 

“Firstly, I did not tell her to fuck off-”

“You might as well have.”

She rolled her eyes. “Secondly, all this talk makes me wonder if perhaps I should be concerned about the kinds of things that turn you on.”

“If that’s the case, you’re just as sick as I am.”

“Perhaps, but at least I can follow through in such situations. You have a tendency to leave me rather wanting.”

“You’d better be careful what you suggest, Princess,” he growled, “otherwise you might find yourself in a rather compromising position in this very hall, and you never know who could walk by.”

The very thought made her tingle, her heart racing at the idea of being caught.

“Perhaps I don’t mind,” she breathed, her lips touching the skin of his ear. “If you’re up to the task, that is.”

As she pulled back, she gave him a look that was meant to convey her desperation in that moment. Varaena wasn’t sure if it worked, but either way, she got what she wanted.

In less than a moment, he pounced on her, hungrily devouring her lips as he cupped her cheeks, pushing her back against the wall. They stumbled around the corner, into yet another secluded alcove, and he continued to push her backwards till her ass came to rest on the slanted stones at the base of a window. He frantically began to push up the skirts of her dress, while she worked to unlace his pants, neither of them breaking the kiss. 

“Oh,” she moaned rather loudly when he entered her with a single thrust.

“Shh,” he whispered. “Do you want the guards to come looking?”

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, he groaned at the feeling of her walls clamping down on his cock, his hands falling to the stone beneath her to support himself.

“Hypocrite,” she laughed, but her laughter was cut off as he began to move, sending waves of pleasure through her.

His hip pulsed forward, slowly at first, then faster, and harder, till he set a brutal pace. She quickly unbuttoned his tunic, letting it fall open as her fingers slipped under his shirt, which she had pulled free from his pants, her nails digging into the skin of his back while she tried not to scream.

Even as her release crashed through, turning her vision black, he kept going, relentlessly, till he found his own release, and he slumped forward into her chest, panting from exertion.

Still trying to catch their breath, and with his cock still buried in her, he straightened up and pulled her in for another deep kiss, this one a bit more gentle than the last. 

“Well, that was fun,” she chuckled when they broke apart.

He smirked at her, finally disentangling himself and setting her back down on her feet. She smoothed the front of her dress, and ran her fingers through her hair, attempting to look somewhat presentable. She looked over at Aemond, who was struggling to rebutton his tunic, so she reached up to help him.

“You’re quite the scoundrel, Prince Aemond, taking a lady out in the open, where anybody could walk by and see,” she said jokingly, her fingers deftly moving down his tunic as she buttoned it, till she reached the hem of his pants, which were still unlaced.

“My apologies, your highness,” he said soberly. “It’s only that I find you absolutely irresistible, and I cannot help myself from needing to bury myself in you any chance I get.”

Her fingers slipped down just a little, grazing the base of his cock. Aemond stiffened a little, his fingers clenching into fists, while the blood left his face and rushed somewhere else entirely.

“How lucky for me,” she sighed, her hand traveling even further down, now slipping entirely beneath his pants, till she gripped his cock in her hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s nice to know that I still have some power over you.”

“Don’t get cocky,” he warned, even as he bit back a groan while she worked him, her hand stroking up and down.

“I’ll take whatever I can get.” She stepped onto her tip toes and leaned into his ear. “And there’s a lot I’d be willing to take.”

He shuddered under the feel of her breath, his balls tightening as he felt his release building up. But, before he could finish, she withdrew her hand, leaving him hard, and gasping, and desperate to release. 

If looks could kill, she might surely drop dead from his. But she paid it no mind, only kissed him on the cheek, and winked at him before practically skipping away.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to finish this later, my love. I have places to be,” she called out, waving her hand as she rounded around the corner.

She could have sworn she heard him mutter something as she walked away, and though she couldn’t make it out, knowing him, it was probably an obscenity.

Aemond’s POV:

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself as he turned and leaned his head against the cold stone wall.

Watching her walk away, his cock hard and dying for release, was almost more than he could bear. 

She would definitely pay for that later, which he had a feeling was something she was looking forward to.

He tried to take deep breaths and calm himself, but it was no use. He was still painfully hard, and he was about to go find the nearest room to either finish the job or wash himself in ice cold water, but the moment he opened his eyes, whatever desire had been flooding through him vanished in an instant.

“Do I even want to know what I’ve just stumbled upon?” Aegon laughed, wagging his eyebrows in a knowing look.

“Fuck off, Aegon,” Aemond growled in response, still angry at Aegon’s earlier actions.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I promise not to make any lewd jokes.”

“You really shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”

His words were a very pointed jab, and, based on the way the smile fell from his brother’s face, they had obviously hit their mark.

“I’m sorry, Aemond. I only did what I thought was right.”

“Firstly, I’m not the one you should be apologizing to, but knowing her, she probably won’t be ready to hear it for some time. Secondly, in what world would you think that running to tell Mother, after promising Varaena that you would speak of it to know outside of those who already knew, was the right thing to do? Have you completely lost your fucking mind?”

Aegon flinched slightly, but quickly recovered and stood his ground, much to Aemond’s surprise.

“No, brother, for once I am not crazy, even though you apparently so desperately want to believe that I am. I know what I promised her, and I hate that I had to break it, but I did it because I believe she’s making the wrong choice, and she refuses to see it.” 

Aegon took a step forward, jutting out his chin in an effort to look threatening, though it was rather hard when Aemond still looked down on him. 

“She’s been handed the opportunity to finally right the wrongs of her predecessors, to truly unite the realm in a way that Viserys barely managed, and Rhaenyra never could. She is truly what this realm needs, but she is being stubborn, and a coward, and I refuse to sit idly by and do nothing, while the entire realm, and our family, suffers for it. And you cannot honestly think that she is making the right decision, can you? After everything Viserys told you?”

Aemond gritted his teeth, loathing the idea of having to verbally admit that his brother was right. But in truth he was. He was absolutely right. Even if Varaena didn’t believe that she was worthy of the crown, the people still had a right to decide that for themselves. And despite her self doubt, Aemond believed that she would make a great queen, better than many of the kings who had come before her, including Viserys.

“It’s not about that, Aegon. It doesn’t matter what I believe. This is her decision, and as her husband, I will not betray her and go behind her back, undermining her choice.”

“Sometimes we have to do things we would rather not do for the good of the realm,” Aegon rebutted. “Isn’t that what you’re always telling me? And now, when it comes down to it, you refuse to do what is necessary. I knew you could be an arrogant bastard at times, but I never pegged you for a hypocrite, much less a coward.”

Aemond snapped. He swung his fist hard, hitting his brother square in the face, sending him sprawling backwards. He stumbled to the floor, landing on his knees and using one hand to prop himself up. The other went to his face, where he wiped a trickle of blood coming from his injured nose. Aegon looked up at his brother, wide eyed, and more than a little scared.

“I have been called many things, but never a coward,” Aemond said quietly, though his tone suggested he was close to another brutal attack. “My support of my wife does not make me a coward, but your betrayal of her trust makes you a traitor. You know, all those times she defended you to me, telling me you acted the way you did out of self hatred, and pain, and anger, telling me that she loved you and you were her greatest friend, and now you turn around and stab her in the back? How the fuck does that make you her friend?”

Aemond practically spat those last words at his brother, but, wanting to be the better man, he still offered his hand to help him up. Aegon took it reluctantly, and with a trembling hand, as Aemond helped him to his feet. 

“I’ll help you try and convince her, but I refuse to do any more than that. I will not do anything that goes against her wishes, like telling other people. For now, it remains between us. And even if I wanted to, you and I both know it would make no difference, as there is no actual proof of Viserys’ intent.”

“But what if there was proof? I’m not saying there is, I don’t know yet, but Lucerys and I discussed the possibility that there might be some, and perhaps that would change things.”

“If you could find proof, that would be an entirely different matter. At that point, she would have no choice but to come forward publicly and either accept or abdicate the crown. But what makes you think that there would be any evidence in the first place?”

“Do you honestly believe that Viserys would be so adamant in his belief that Varaena should take the throne, going so far as to tell her and you, and encourage her to claim it, and not take some form of legal action to cement it?”

“His mental state was very fragile, Aegon,” Aemond shook his head. “It was a wonder he could remember his own name much less his dreams of Varaena.”

“Varaena was his favourite, perhaps more so than his precious Rhaenyra, and he was much more lucid when she was involved. I refuse to believe that he didn’t plan ahead for such an occasion as this.”

Aemond grumbled. “Fine, I’ll help you look. But I still don’t believe we’ll find anything.”

Daemon and Rhaenyra’s POV:

Rhaenyra gritted her teeth in anger, and contempt.

Her firstborn, her daughter, had made a mockery of her in the throne room. In front of dozens of lords and ladies, as well as her greatest enemies, Varaena had hesitated.

Hesitated .

Her own flesh and blood had hesitated to bend the knee to her, and it set her blood aflame. 

Varaena had always been a problem child. Incredibly stubborn, headstrong, arrogant, naive. Forever a thorn in Rhaenyra’s side, one she could never rid herself of. She and Daemon had done their best to shape her into an obedient girl, one who would not question their motives and actions, but would understand that they were done for a reason, and would follow through.

But no matter what they did, nothing worked. 

And they had tried everything .

Now, she sat here, nursing a wound from the throne she had sat on for only a few minutes, but had cut her within the first few seconds of her reign, while contemplating what to do with her traitorous daughter.

If she was the superstitious type, she would probably take that as some kind of omen, but she wasn’t. Plenty of people were, though, so she was not inclined to let the news of her injury get out.

“If the look on your face tells me anything,” Daemon said as he quietly approached and sat down across from her, “we’re both contemplating the same thing.”

“What are we going to do, Daemon? The Greens have got their hooks in her, and I will be damned if I let them steal my flesh and blood right out from under me.”

“If they do, it’s that stupid girl’s fault for being naive enough to believe their lies. I knew we shouldn’t have sent her here.”

Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes. “It was as much your idea as mine. Do not place the blame on me.”

“I’m well aware it was my idea as well, but that doesn’t mean I felt easy about it. I always knew she was gullible enough to fall for them. We should never have let her out of our sight. After all, the whole purpose of placing her here was to have eyes and ears in the Keep, and what has it gotten us? Absolutely nothing.”

Daemon was practically fuming. His offspring had completely failed in her task, which was entirely unlike her. Perhaps when they got her back to Dragonstone he would have to remind her of the consequences of failure…

“Perhaps not all is lost,” Rhaenyra mused. “As much as I detest the bonds she seems to have formed with those little bastards, we might be able to use them to our advantage.”

“How so?”

“If those cunts love her as much as she seems to love them, what do you suppose they’d do if she were to go missing?”

“Probably search heaven and earth to find her, killing anyone who got in their way.”

“Exactly. And if they happened to kill the wrong person in their blind rage, well…the most likely outcome would be war, and the perfect excuse to wipe out the Green cunts.”

“But what would the likelihood be of her going miss-oh, I see what you mean,” he cut himself off mid sentence as realization dawned on him. “I’ll tell the boys to prepare to depart for Dragonstone within the hour, and leave you to take care of the rest. How will you accomplish it?”

“I doubt she will speak to me if I call her, but there is someone she might still be willing to talk to.”

Jacaerys’ POV:

Lucerys’ words to him on Dragonstone had not left his mind. 

He had never known his brother to be so harsh, so to see him so angry had left him reeling. Lucerys had barely talked to him since.

He supposed there might be some truth to his words, that perhaps he had in fact abandoned his sister somewhat. He had always believed the best of his mother, and most of the time he did the same for Daemon, but he wondered if perhaps he had been a bit blind. 

Then there was the matter of his being named heir. 

That was a move he never would have seen coming. He had always assumed that his mother would make Varaena her heir, as she was the eldest child.

But the more he thought of it, the more he realized just how much he’d been groomed to take on the role, while Varaena never had.

It was not something he had contemplated before, but the memories of their growing up years on Dragonstone showed him just how different their studies and instruction had been. 

And yet, that hadn’t stopped him from trusting his mother when she suggested he invite Varaena to tea, just the two of them. She had seemed so innocent, simply wanting her two children to reconnect.

He didn’t notice her hesitation to tell him her reasoning when he asked.

He didn’t suspect anything when she suggested a rather strongly flavored tea, for no other reason, apparently, other than the fact that it was his sister’s favourite. 

And because he trusted her, he believed her.

He didn’t pay any attention to the fact that she waited in his chambers till the tea arrived, saying she only wanted to ensure it was perfect, again citing her wish to see her beloved children on speaking terms again. 

He didn’t notice the tiny slip of her hand, or the glint of firelight reflecting off the surface of a tiny, glass phial. 

And when he poured the tea, he didn’t notice that there was already a few drops of liquid in his sister’s cup.

Lucerys’ POV:

Lucerys couldn’t understand the urgency behind their return to Dragonstone, nor why they all had to leave. He had hoped to stay behind with his sister, but his mother had sent him a message saying he was to meet Daemon and Jace at the Dragonpit, and to only bring whatever things he needed.

He had snuck down the halls to his sister’s chambers before he left, hoping to say goodbye, but neither she nor Aemond were there. The bed had been turned down, the fire light, but there was no sign of either of them. Not a hint that they’d been back for hours.

The entire flight back to Dragonstone had seen him worrying about her and her well-being. They had flown all night and day to make it back to Dragonstone in good time, followed soon after by his mother and the girls on their ship. They, too, had made good time with the winds and currents in their favor.

“Do you know why Mother had us rush back to Dragonstone so quickly?” Luc asked Jace as they dismounted their dragons. 

Jace shrugged. “Not a clue. Though perhaps she simply wanted to ensure everything was being prepared for our relocation to the Keep.”

“But surely she and Daemon could have handled that themselves, or sent one or two of us in their stead? I don’t see why we all had to return.”

“Are you not glad to be back and out of that stinking cesspit? I dread the coming day that we have to make it our permanent home. I suppose I’m lucky that as the Prince of Dragonstone now, once Baela and I marry, we can return to Dragonstone.”

“Yes, you’re certainly lucky alright,” Lucerys gritted his teeth.

“Gods, that might be the only upside to being named heir. I can’t even imagine having to rule someday. I don’t know how Mother shouldered the burden.”

“Poor, poor you. Must be such a hardship to have an honour such as this thrust upon you.”

“What’s the matter with you? Why are you being a little prick right now?”

“Nothing’s the matter. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Liar,” Jace accused. “I can see it written all over your face. You’re angry about something.”

Lucerys gave him a cold stare. “Fine. Yes, I’m angry. I’m angry that the title and position you were given only a couple days ago you’re already complaining about. Do you even understand the gravity of the situation? You are not the Queen’s firstborn, and yet she named you heir.”

“So?” Jacaerys seemed confused.

“So? Are you really that brainless right now?” Luc wanted to pull his hair out. “Viserys set a precedent when he named his daughter heir to the Iron Throne, against the wishes and advice of many that he name his son in her place. The entire realm would have expected Mother to do the same, to name her firstborn child heir regardless of her sex, and yet she was passed over in favor of you, leaving many to wonder why. Now, I have my guesses, which I’m sure can be relied upon to be fairly accurate, but the rest of the Seven Kingdoms do not have the same kind of knowledge that I do. And either way, how is it fair to Varaena to be passed over in favor of her younger brother? Whether or not she wanted to rule is of no consequence when it comes to the principle of the matter.”

“I rather think you’re making too big a deal of this, Luc,” Jace rolled his eyes. “So what if Mother gave me the title? What difference does it make?”

“You ignorant arse! The difference is that it signals to the entire realm that Rhaenyra does not hold any faith or trust in her own daughter, otherwise it would have been she who was named Princess of Dragonstone. How do you think that will affect Varaena? Or any future alliances for both us and her? She’s lucky that she’s already wed or any marriage alliances would have been called into question.”

“You call her being married to that cunt ‘lucky’? You must have a very sick sense of the word.”

Lucerys had to choose his next words carefully. While it had been somewhat obvious to many the last few days that things had changed between Varaena and Aemond, she had not told anyone in their family but him of the nature of their relationship, and he didn’t want to betray her confidence.

“You really shouldn’t speak of things you don’t understand,” Lucerys shook his head. 

“I understand perfectly fine,” Jace hissed. “Mother and Daemon gave her a job to do, and she failed. Now she’s saddled to that cunt until such time comes that we can hopefully murder the prick and free her.”

“You really are an arsehole, Jace. Did you ever stop to wonder if Varaena ever even wanted this? Because I seem to remember her being very clear that she didn’t, and I also don’t recall her ever agreeing to spy for Mother and Daemon, so to claim that she failed is a rather hasty conclusion as she never should have had to in the first place! They sold her like a prized calf, and then left her to be butchered when she didn’t pay well enough!”

“She had a duty, Luc! As do we! In times like these, it’s especially important to be loyal to one’s family.”

Lucerys let out a frustrated half scream, opening his mouth to yell at his brother some more, but just then his mother and the girls began to disembark from the ship. 

Rhaenyra had a look on her face that was a mixture of shame, regret, and yet resolution. Like she had done something she should and did regret, and yet also felt it was for the best. 

It was a look she wore often.

Luc wondered what she’d done this time, but he didn’t have to. Appearing on the gangway behind his mother was Ser Erryk Cargyll, whom he knew had joined his mother’s Queensguard and sworn unerring fealty to her whilst in King’s Landing. He, too, had a look of shame on his face, but unlike his Queen’s, this one was entirely regretful. 

But it was what he was carrying that caught Lucerys’ eye, and made his heart stop.

Now he understood. 

He glanced at Jace, fully prepared to physically launch himself at his brother and tear him apart, but, to his surprise, Jace was just as shocked as he, if not even more so.

His mouth and eyes wide open, his face pale, his shoulder shaking ever so slightly. He looked wildly back and forth between Rhaenyra, Daemon, and what Ser Erryk carried.

For, in his arms, being carried gently off the ship, with her long, white hair flowing in the breeze, and her arm dangling to the side, was the unconscious body of their beloved sister.

Chapter Text

Varaena’s POV:

Her head was pounding, like a steady chorus of drums that threatened to beat right out of her head.

The sunlight streaming in through the window was absolutely blinding, but there were no curtains or windows even to block it out.

Wait…no windows?

She tried to open her eyes, but they refused to open more than half an inch, and even then, her vision was blurry.

The previously dull ache in her bones was set aflame as she dragged her feet over the side of the bed, and dropped them to the cold, stone floor. It felt cold, and a little damp, yet another thing she found surprising.

While the Keep was often a bit cold, it was never damp. 

She opened her mouth to speak, but at first only air came out. Her throat burned, and it took every ounce of willpower she had to force the words out.

“Aemond?” she croaked.

There was no reply. Only silence in the room, interrupted every so often by the crash of waves on the beach, which seemed impossible, and more than likely she was imagining it. She had never been able to hear the waves from the Keep, it was too far away, and the noise of the city too loud. But that was another thing too. It was eerily quiet.

“Aemond?” she spoke louder, as loud as she could, which still wasn’t very loud.

She heard the scuffling of feet, and the loud shriek of a chair sliding across the stone floor.

“Varaena?” she heard someone speak.

“Aemond? Is that you?”

She moved to stand, but her legs immediately caved, and she went toppling to the ground, and would have surely hit it if the person with her had not acted quickly and caught her.

“Bloody hell!” he cursed, for she was sure it was a man. “What on earth are you thinking? Get back in bed!”

“Who are you?” she hissed in pain. “Where am I? Where’s Aemond?”

“Shhh,” he hushed her, brushing the hair out of her face and swiping his cold hand across her hot brow. “Just calm yourself, don’t think about that now.”

“What’s going on? Who are you?” she demanded once again.

“I’m quite offended that you don’t know me, but considering your current condition, I’ll let it slide.”

She blinked a bit more, trying to let her eyes slowly adjust to the light as her vision came into focus.

Lucerys.

He currently sat on the edge of her bed, holding her hand in his, a look of concern and exhaustion written all over his features.

“Luc?” she cracked a smile, but immediately winced from sore muscles.

“Who else would it be, sis?” He smiled back, but there was hardly any warmth to it.

“What’s going on? Where am I?”

He hesitated. “I’m not sure if I should tell you. You’ve only just woken up, and after two days of not knowing whether you would, I’d rather not send you back into unconsciousness.”

“Two days? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Please keep it down,” he begged. “I want a chance to speak with you before Mother, or Daemon, realize you’re awake.

“Luc, you better tell me what’s happing right this fucking instant, or I swear to the gods, I’ll-”

“Alright, alright, calm down. Honestly,” he sighed. “Well, first of all, everyone is alright, at least as far as I know. No one’s been hurt, and no one’s died.”

Her heart shuddered, already a sense of foreboding coming upon her, and she didn’t like it. She opened her mouth to ask another question, but he silenced her.

“Secondly, well…you’re not going to like this.”

“Just fucking tell me already,” she snapped.

“We’re on Dragonstone,” he whispered. 

This time, her heart stopped altogether. That couldn’t be true, perhaps she hadn’t heard him right.

“I’m sorry, I think I must have misheard you. Where are we?”

“Dragonstone,” he furrowed his brow. “Have been for a few days. We left the night of the coronation.”

She was silent for a few moments, trying to process the information before she exploded.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She shrieked. “What the fuck?!”

Lucerys cringed at the volume, and tried to shush her again, but she was livid.

“Who-what-how-” She couldn’t even finish a sentence, her anger preventing her from speaking clearly. “How the fuck did I get here? Who the fuck brought me here?”

“Mother and Daemon must have planned it, but as for how I don’t know. All I know is that we were told to pack our things and get out of King’s Landing quickly, and when I went to say goodbye to you, you weren’t in your chambers. Next thing, we’re here, and Ser Erryk is carrying you, unconscious, off the ship. I’m not sure why Mother and Daemon found it so urgent for you to be brought back here, but evidently they did.”

“Who else knew about this?” she hissed, wincing a bit as she stepped forward, her muscles still sore.

“I’m not sure. I believe it was just them, perhaps Jace, but I don’t think he did. When you were brought ashore, he seemed genuinely surprised to see you. But if anyone else knew about this they’re keeping a straight face.”

“I’m going to kill them, I’m going to-”

“Ah, you’re awake,” Rhaenyra said as she walked in.

Varaena wheeled around, on the verge of screaming at her mother, but Rhaenyra kept talking.

“Now, before you speak, I know you must be a bit upset about the manner in which you were brought here, but it was for your protection.”

“My protection?” Varaena snapped. “In what fucking world was this for my protection?”

“Don’t shout, it’s not becoming,” Rhaenyra tutted. “It wasn’t safe for you to remain in King’s Landing, without our protection. Now that I’ve been crowned Queen, the Greens will do anything they can to usurp me, including hurting you.”

“Since when do you care about what happens to me? It’s not as if you did before!”

Rhaenyra’s nostrils flared slightly. “Lucerys, please leave us.”

“No!” Varaena threw up her hand to stop her brother. “What’s the matter, mother? Afraid I’ll say something you don’t want him to hear?”

“No, I’d just rather he not have to witness his sister acting like a petulant child! Not a very good influence, wouldn’t you say?”

“He’s not so naive as to be easily influenced by a single interaction! And besides that, me defending myself does not make me a petulant child! I’m sorry that I’m not still the obedient, or should I say spineless, little girl you once had, but I suppose that’s what happens when you sell your only daughter into marriage and send her into the lion’s den all by herself. She finally learns to grow a fucking backbone.”

Rhaenyra’s hand moved swiftly, striking her across the cheek. She gasped in shock and pain, but when she looked at her mother, the look in her eyes was one of scorn rather than surprise, as though she had been expecting it, which, perhaps she had.

“Watch your mouth, girl. You may not be a child anymore, but I wont have you disrespecting me.”

“Or what?” Varaena challenged. “What the fuck else can you do to me that you haven’t already?”

“Perhaps I should get your father? I’m sure he can think of an appropriate punishment for you.”

Varaena’s eyes widened slightly and she took a step back, her face going pale. She immediately averted her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest.

“I thought that might shut you up. Now, on to other more pressing matters. Don’t worry about your sham of a marriage, we’re sending a raven to the High Septon to have it annulled. Seeing as the marriage was not consummated, I have no doubt that it will be done without issue.”

“Are you sure about that?” Varaena asked quietly.

Rhaenyra looked quizzically at her. “About what?”

“About not having any issues, that is.”

“Varaena,” Rhaenyra began softly, though there was a dangerous edge in her tone. “Is there something that you wish to tell me?”

Varaena looked at her for the longest time, not saying anything, before she simply said, “Of course not, mother. Nothing at all.”

Her mother narrowed her eyes, clearly not believing her, but she chose not to pursue it.

“Well, I’ll let you rest. But your father and I expect you to be at dinner tonight, so I’ll send your maids up later to prepare you.”

She said nothing, but nodded once in reply. Her eyes drifted over to Lucerys, who was watching the scene with obvious contempt, and some confusion as well.

Once Rhaenyra left, he whirled around to face her. “What the fuck was that?”

“Just leave it alone, Luc,” Varaena sighed. 

“No, Varaena, explain to me what just happened? I thought for a moment you were going to stand your ground, but instead you backed down like a scared puppy! What happened to my sister, the one who just days ago would have gladly beat anyone who got in her way?”

“Luc, please! Just leave it be!”

“Is it Daemon? Is that why mother mentioned him? Did he do something?”

“Just stop it, Luc it’s nothing.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what they did?” Luc looked at her with concern, and a bit of hurt at being left in the dark.

“There’s nothing to know, Luc, it’s nothing, truly,” she tried to placate him.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, I know they’ve done something. I can see it in your eyes whenever you see Daemon, whenever anyone speaks of him, or brings up the past. Something is haunting you, and it kills me to not know.”

She winced at his tone and continued swearing. It was very rare for Lucerys to lose his temper, and even rarer still for him to curse, or at least it used to be. Things had changed in the last year as the king grew weaker, and times grew darker. But before then, the few occasions where you might find Lucerys’ exploding with anger were when it came to the defense of his sister. And it killed her that this time he didn’t even know what he was defending her from.

But still, she couldn’t tell him. Not even Aemond knew the full extent of what Daemon and Rhaenyra had subjected her to, nor did she ever wish for him too. But it was different with him.

Her brothers practically worshipped their mother, and they had grown to see Daemon as a father figure, so for them to hear the truth of it, especially sweet-hearted Lucerys, it would destroy them.

“Luc, I don’t know what you think you see, but there is nothing there. Just leave it alone.”

Her tone turned deadly as she warned Luc off of his continued prodding. 

He eyed her with suspicion, but he said nothing. He just shook his head, and stormed off, muttering something under his breath that she couldn’t quite catch.

When the maids came later to help her bathe and dress, she moved about as though she were still asleep, her mind a heady fog as though that could protect her from what she knew was coming.

The walk to dinner was quiet, and lonely. Her heels clacked loudly against the stone floor, echoing through the empty halls. As she walked, she realized that she had been so lost in her own thoughts that she had taken a few wrong turns, and had now ended up in front of her parents’ chamber. 

The door was wide open, revealing all that was inside. 

Her parents’ bed. 

A small settee. 

A few tables.

A dressing table.

And a bassinet, where a baby currently slept.

She approached it slowly, not wanting to awaken the sleeping babe, who looked so peaceful, as though she hadn’t a care in the world. 

Varaena knew she never would, at least not with Daemon and Rhaenyra as the cause. It was clear that the two already doted upon the girl, as evidenced by the fact that she slept in their chamber.

Varaena never did that. 

From the moment of her birth, she was relegated to the nursery, as she had been told that Rhaenyra refused to have her nearby more than was necessary. Laenor, though, had often brought little Varaena into his chamber to sleep, though he never told Rhaenyra.

Her heart ached at the obvious love and affection, the once haphazardly patched up wound now a gaping hole.

She knew she would never be enough for them.

She had tried so hard her whole life, doing everything that was asked of her, taking their punishments without objection, doing her best to stay out of their way as that seemed to be what they wanted.

Her fists started to clench in rising anger, and she did her best to temper it.

With a last glare at the babe, she turned and swept out of the room, stomping down to dinner, where her family sat, already eating.

Rhaenyra didn’t even spare her a glance as she entered, though Daemon narrowed his eyes in suspicion. She took her place next to Lucerys, whose plate remained untouched, while almost everyone else had already begun eating. Jacaerys, though, had only nibbled at his plate, stuck somewhere between wanting to wait, and not wanting to upset his mother and Daemon.

“You’re late,” Daemon huffed as she sat down.

“My apologies, my mind is still a little frazzled and I took a wrong turn on the way down,” she replied stiffly.

His nostrils flared at her response, no doubt angry that she had offered an explanation instead of a simple apology.

“Your mother has informed me that you seem to be under the impression that your marriage will be impossible to annul,” Daemon diverted. “Is there a reason for that?”

She hesitated for a moment. “No, not at all. I only meant that we shouldn’t expect it to be easy, these things are never easy.”

“What would you know of annulling a marriage?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Just that the legalities of it will surely offer some hindrance, and given who my husband is, I’m sure that will present another, even larger, problem.”

“Who he is is of no consequence,” Daemon waved his hand. “You obviously know nothing of this, so leave it to us.”

Varaena felt Lucerys tense next to her at Daemon’s tone, but she kept her face neutral. 

“Of course, your grace ,” she put emphasis on his title. 

“Lost the attitude,” he barked.

She flinched slightly at his words, but quickly covered it up with a cough before turning to her plate.

It had been loaded with the most decadent food, but she couldn’t touch a thing. Even the thought of ingesting it made her want to vomit. 

“Is something wrong with your food, dear?” Rhaenyra asked, her voice dripping with disdain.

“Not at all, mother, I’m simply not hungry.”

“You really should eat, Varaena. Keep your strength up, I’m sure you’ll need it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

“Well, we’re at war now. You’ll need to remain strong if you hope to come out of this with the rest of us.”

Varaena clenched her jaw. “Should I be expecting something to happen? Am I in any immediate danger?”

“Not at all,” Daemon interjected. “But, accidents do happen, you know. And during war, life is never assured even for the…innocent.”

It wouldn’t take a genius to pick up on the veiled threat.

Do as we say, follow our lead, or an accident may very well happen to you.

She pushed up from her chair, ready to leave the room, not wishing to listen to them anymore.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Daemon huffed.

“Anywhere but here. I’m not hungry,” she snapped.

“Sit down, Varaena.”

“I’d rather not,”

“SIT.DOWN.” He barked.

She fell back into her seat, her heart already racing.

“Boys,” Rhaenyra began, “take your brothers and leave us.”

“But mother-” Lucerys started.

“Don’t argue with me, Luc, just go.”

Lucerys looked to his sister, willing to push back and stay if she needed him, but she didn’t want him involved in this. She didn’t want him to get hit in the crossfire.

She shook her head slightly, telling him to just go, but he did so reluctantly. Once they had left, and silence filled the hall, she turned back to her parents, who were watching her with a suspicious and angry eye.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Daemon seethed. “Don’t ever talk back to me.”

She shrank back into her seat. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to go.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you wanted. You will do as you’re told. You do remember the consequences if you should not, correct?”

Her eyes widened in fear, and her mouth clamped shut, preventing her from speaking.

“Now, tell us, what did you learn while in King’s Landing? Considering you failed to write to us, I believe we are owed an explanation.”

“There was never a time to write, I just couldn’t-”

“What were you up to that prevented you from picking up a quill? Did you forget your duties, why we sent you there?”

“Of course not,” she snapped. “How could I? Every day I was reminded of my purpose, or rather lack of one. It seems I have no use beyond whatever you dictate for me.”

“Exactly,” Rhaenyra butted in. “Your purpose is whatever we tell you it is, and you had best keep that in mind.”

“What if I don’t want to?” The question had nagged at her, and now she had asked it before she could even consider the repercussions. “What if I don’t want to do what you have planned?”

Both of them were quiet, but she could practically feel the rage radiating off of them, Daemon in particular. He stood slowly from the table, his hands dragging across the wood as he did, then he ever so slowly stalked over to her.

“I don’t give a single fuck what you want. You are nothing, no one. You are not the heir, you are not a warrior, you are not even a dragonrider. You have no skills, no wisdom, no use beyond building an alliance, and even that may prove difficult now that you have been sullied by the name of Hightower. She shut your fucking mouth, and do as you’re told.”

His hand came to rest on the back of her chair, while he stood mere inches in front of her.

For once in her life, she decided to be brave.

“No.”

He seemed genuinely surprised by that single word.

“Excuse me?” he spluttered. 

“I said no .”

The punishment was swift, and painful. His hand flew across her cheek before she even registered the movement. Her skin stung from the slap, and she felt something wet trickle down her cheek. When she reached up to wipe it away, her fingers came back red with blood. His garrish ring had cut her.

“Try again,” he whispered.

“No,” was her immediate response.

Another slap.

She felt a vibration in her chest.

“Try.again.” He said once more.

“I…said…no,” she gasped.

Third slap.

This one was even harder.

She felt it rattle her teeth, and the blood started streaming down her cheek, and even a few drops from her mouth.

The vibrating turned to rumbling in her bones.

No…wait…in the floor?

The glasses began to clink as the table shook, the chandelier swaying back and forth, the candles falling off the tables and the fireplace mantle.

The whole castle was shaking, like an earthquake.

“Daemon, what’s happening?” Rhaenyra looked to her husband in a panic.

He reached out and took her hand, offering silent comfort.

“I don’t know, I’ve never-”

He was cut off by a deafening roar, one that made Varaena’s skull feel as though it would crack from the pressure.

She cried out in pain and clutched her head, falling to her knees, but Daemon and Rhaenyra seemed unbothered, focused only on each other.

A few minutes later, when the roaring and shaking had subsided, a guard came rushing in.

“Your graces, one of the wild dragons was just seen flying from the Dragonmont. He’s disappeared.”

“Which one?” Daemon demanded.

Varaena’s ears were ringing. She couldn’t understand what the guard said next.

But she felt a strange tug under her skin. Like something had latched onto her very bones and was pulling her outside.

She stood, quietly, slowly, so as not to draw attention to herself, and slipped out of the hall via the back door, which she knew led to the beach. She couldn’t explain it. She just knew she had to be there. Her mind and heart were screaming at her, telling her to move faster.

That’s when she saw it.

In the clouds above her, illuminated by the full moon. 

The shadow of a dragon.

Chapter Text

13 Years Ago, King’s Landing, the Red Keep:

Viserys balanced little Varaena on his knee, pulling her closer to his chest as she snuggled in tight.

He remembered the pure joy he felt when Rhaenyra had given birth to a daughter. Many had expected him to be disappointed at the fact that she was not a son, but the moment he laid eyes on the precious girl, his heart melted. 

She looked just like his Aemma.

He had almost requested that she be named so, but the pangs in his heart told him it was too soon. Nevertheless, the girl was growing up to be exactly like her grandmother, just as stubborn and fierce as she was.

“How are you, byka zaldrīzes?” He asked as he gently stroked her cheek. 

“M’okay” she murmured, burrowing tighter into his embrace. “Aegon was mean to me, though.”

Viserys chuckled a little. “Yes, he often is. But I’m sure you taught him some manners.”

“Yes I did! But I might have punched him first,” she replied sheepishly.

This caused Viserys to laugh even louder, the picture of his son being punched by a little girl even more hilarious than the thought of her telling him what to do as she so often did.

“I had a scary dream last night, kepāzma.”

“Oh? What about?”

“I saw a great, big dragon fly out of a mountain, and it landed in front of me on a beach. Then it looked at me and roared really loudly, and I felt this rumbling in my chest.”

Viserys furrowed his brow. An interesting dream for a child to have…

“What happened next, dōna hāedar?”

“Then I climbed on his back, and we flew all over Westeros, but it was all burning. Black and green flames, and I could hear people screaming, and sometimes they were screaming my name, or muña’s. And then, I landed on top of the Red Keep, and I could see people on the ground, and some of them were dead, and some of them were bowing.”

A shudder passed through the little girl, as though the thought of the dream was still frightening her. Viserys tightened his grip on her, silently reassuring her that she was safe. But his mind was teeming with curiosity at this dream. He had his suspicions, but he couldn’t be sure.

“I have strange dreams, too, sometimes. Last night, I dreamt of a young girl with white hair, just like yours. She, too, was riding a dragon, the biggest one I’d ever seen. As she flew, the sea swallowed her in this great wave, and the clouds parted to let her pass. She came to land, and led an army into battle, defeating the enemy, with a crown upon her head.”

Viserys had had the same dream every night since the birth of Varaena. He had never put much stock into dragon dreams beyond a few that pertained to his line of succession, but those had been futile hopes.

This one, however, had felt as true as if the gods themselves had whispered it in his ear.

“Sounds like the Velaryons and the Targaryens,” Varaena murmured. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the Velaryons control the sea, while the Targaryens control the skies. Right?”

Viserys had never thought of it that way. He had racked his brain trying to decipher this dream, wondering how it could possibly pertain to his granddaughter, because he was sure that it did. But it seemed as though she had just figured it out.

She was a Velaryon, if not by blood then by principle. Laenor had claimed her as his own, despite the truth, which Viserys was fully aware of. 

But she was first and foremost a Targaryen. 

The sea and the clouds. 

But it made his heart stop at the thought of her flying into battle, not just because of what might happen to her, but because he wondered what could happen in the future that would bring about such a thing.

“Varaena, have you had any other scary dreams like that one?”

“Sometimes I dream about Aunt Laena’s dragon, Vhagar. I see it flying next to mine, but it’s not Aunt Laena on her back. It’s someone I’ve never seen before. And sometimes, I dream about the Iron Throne. I see it, in the dark, while I walk towards it. And there’s blood on my hands, and the floor, and on the throne, and there’s people everywhere, bowing to me, and I see muña on her knees, but I can’t find kepa anywhere.”

More and more Viserys was starting to believe that Varaena was having her own dragon dreams. It was a rare gift, but a gift nonetheless he believed.

“Do you know what I think? I think you are dreaming of the future, byka zaldrīzes. I do that, too.”

“What do my dreams mean, kepāzma?”

“I think they’re telling of a war to come, though I don’t know why. And I think you are dreaming of your ascension to the throne.”

“But what about muña? She’s supposed to be queen.”

Viserys pondered this for a moment. “Your mother is many things, but a true queen she is not. I love her with my whole heart, and I believe the best of her. But I believe now more than ever that she does not have what it takes. She is too impulsive, too selfish. She is loyal only when it benefits her, and she does not possess the compassion a ruler should possess. She is far too ambivalent to the problems of the people. I think that one day, you are destined to be queen.”

“But what if I don’t want to be queen? What if I’m not good enough?”

“Don’t worry, Varaena. You will be. I’ll make sure of it.”

The two were quiet for a moment, the only sound and light coming from the crackling fire. 

“Kepāzma? Do you think I’ll ever have a dragon?”

Poor Varaena, her egg had never hatched, to the disappointment of all. 

“I don’t doubt it, little one. You will have the fiercest of them all, I’m sure of it.”

Chapter Text

Varaena’s POV:

The ground shook as the dragon’s feet landed with a great thud upon the sand. 

Varaena was sure her heart would beat right out of her chest.

She could feel its hot breath on her face, and hear the rustling of its wings as they folded up next to its body.

His body.

She could feel that.

The dragon was a he.

She opened her eyes, which had been shut so tightly out of fear, to find herself face to face with the most terrifying dragon she had ever seen.

His scales were as black as night, though a faint glimmer of silver glinted off him under the moonlight, and his eyes were like emeralds, shining so brightly as they studied her with great intent and curiosity. She could see bits of blood around his mouth, leftover from the last thing he ate, whatever that was. She didn’t want to know. 

But more importantly than all that, she could feel him.

It was like this invisible cord that ran between them, and when she closed her eyes she could almost reach out and touch it. In the depths of her soul she felt the presence of another, more powerful spirit. She could feel his curiosity, his amusement, his frustration. She could feel the tension building within him the longer she stood there without moving, or saying anything.

“Cannibal,” she finally whispered.

The oldest, strongest, and mightiest of the wild dragons. Possibly the oldest dragon in the world, even older than Vhagar. He was definitely more terrifying.

He huffed at her, blowing the hair back from her face as she looked up at him in wonder. Her hand, having a mind of its own, slowly reached up and out, towards his face, wanting to feel him beneath her skin.

He pulled back for a moment, not sure that he wanted her hands on him at first, but then he seemed to relent as he pushed his face forward slightly, slowly, until her hand touched his scales. She saw his eyes close as he felt her, bonded with her. 

That rumbling she felt in her chest grew and grew until finally it stopped, and was replaced by a deep well of emotion that she knew came from him. With a slight tilt of his head, she knew instantly what passed through his mind, not because she could read his thoughts, but because she could understand him . 

He opened his eyes and pulled away from her hand, his head jerking as if to motion her to mount his back.

Varaena’s heart stopped beating as she took in his intent and she started to back away in fear.

If a dragon could roll his eyes, he most certainly did.

His tail whipped out suddenly, stopping her from going any further back, and effectively pushing her closer to him.

With great trepidation, she slowly stepped on the leg he offered, and climbed up his shoulder as he raised it to allow her better access to his back. 

She managed to find a place to sit where she wouldn’t be stabbed by one of the spikes, and settled in as best she could.

She had barely grabbed onto the spikes in front of her when he launched into the sky.

The sheer force of it almost caused her to fly off his back, but she held on for dear life, and somehow managed to stay in place. The wind whipped through her hair and over her ears, a deafening sound as the pressure built within her skull.

Never once did her brother’s speak of the pain of flying, those little assholes.

But she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

The thing she had dreamt of her entire life had finally come to pass. And not only that, but she had claimed, or rather, been claimed by, the oldest and arguably the most powerful dragon in existence.

High in the sky, away from prying eyes and ears, she let out a scream of pure joy, her heart leaping within her chest as butterflies flitted around in her stomach. 

Her dragon seemed to share that sentiment, as a deafening roar exploded from within him, echoing through the boundless clouds, and sending a reverberating sound through her head.

Almost immediately after he roared, she felt a heat beneath her legs, as flames burst from the Cannibal’s throat, stretching far beyond them in a cloud of orange and red that singed her skin the closer they got to the fire.

“Fuck me,” she screamed just before they rode through the flames.

For a brief second she felt as if her skin were burning off, but it quickly subsided as they came out the other side. 

She felt invincible.

“ Fly us home, ” she thought, and he felt it. 

He veered off to the right just a little, and because she hadn’t paid attention to which direction they were flying, she hoped they were going in the right direction. 

She didn’t know how long they’d been flying, only that the sun had begun to rise, which made her curious considering it now seemed to be just a speck in the distance behind her.

Something seemed wrong.

This did not seem like the direction to Dragonstone, and the journey had been far too long. She started to say something to Cannibal about turning back, when something appeared on the horizon ahead of her.

A cliff. Some stone buildings. A stone wall.

Fuck…

Cannibal had brought her to King’s Landing, which was the most absurd thing of it all. She couldn’t understand why Cannibal would bring her back here. And to make matters worse, that meant that she was too far from Dragonstone to make it back before anyone noticed. In all likelihood, they had already noticed she was missing and sent people off in search of her. She wondered what they thought had happened to her, considering they were as of yet unaware that she had claimed a dragon.

They continued their approach to King’s Landing, but if Cannibal was insistent on bringing her here, she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. 

“Stay low,” she whispered in Valyrian. “Land at the beach just over there.”

Cannibal moved his head as if in agreement, and his body dipped until they were gliding just above the waves. He flew straight to the beach she had pointed out, a little inlet that was hidden by most of the cliff face. At the base of the rocks, tucked back inside a cave, was a network of secret tunnels and rooms that led through the bowels of the keep and up into the main floors, known as Maegor’s Holdfast. Not many knew about it as it had been built by Maegor decades before, and all the workers involved in its construction had been slain days after its completion. She herself had discovered it by accident whilst exploring the Keep as a child. She didn’t know how many people knew about it, but it was safe to assume not many did.

“I’ll be back,” Varaena assured Cannibal when she heard him growling as she walked towards the tunnel. “Go find a safe place to hide.”

He stared at her for a long time before lumbering back toward the water and taking flight. She watched him for a bit, then turned and made her way into the tunnels. It was lucky for her that she had spent so much time exploring them as a child otherwise she would have surely gotten lost trying to find her way out. 

When she finally came to a door out, she realized it had been so long that she could no longer remember where this door led. Hesitantly, she pushed on it, and a crack of light shone through the opening. She put her eye to the crack and peered out, finding herself looking at the hallway just outside the King’s chambers.

Varaena stepped out into the hall, quietly, tiptoeing along as she swiveled her head around to keep an eye out for anyone.

She wasn’t entirely sure why she was sneaking around, but something in the back of her mind told her that no one should know she was here. She would take advantage of being here to see the one person she really wanted to, but then she would have to return to Dragonstone. As much as it killed her to do so.

Just as she was passing by the doors to the King’s chambers, the doors opened with a creak, and panic set in. She practically ran down the hall and ducked around the corner, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

“Hello?” A deep voice called out. “Is someone there?”

She recognized that voice.

Gathering her courage, she poked her head around the corner, and found herself face to face with Aegon.

His furrowed brows widened in surprise as he realized she was there, and his dour expression turned into a grin.

“Varaena? Thank the gods!” he exclaimed as he rushed over to her, pulling her into a massive hug.

She felt a comfort in his embrace, more than she had felt in days beyond that of her brother.

“Where in the Seven Hells have you been? You just disappeared, we’ve all been losing our minds!”

“It’s a long story,” she sighed. “What have I missed here?”

Aegon’s face turned dark again, and he motioned for her to follow him. He led her back into the King’s chambers and shut the doors behind them.

“Things have been bad. My grandfather is pushing for war, he’s already called up the banners, though some of them are hesitant to respond now that Rhaenyra has been officially crowned.”

“He’s called the bannermen?” she hissed. “Bastard is relentless.”

“My mother has been halting his plans as much as she can but you’re right, he is persistent. And you disappearing certainly didn’t help matters. Rumours have been flying around as to where you could have gone and why. I won’t…bore you with the details.”

The look he gave her said that he was dying to know what happened, but she didn’t want to say just yet. She averted his gaze for a moment, but when she returned her eyes to his, she could see the concern only growing.

“Things aren’t much different on Dragonstone,” she began. “I was…unconscious for a number of days, so I’m sure I missed a lot of what was being planned, but I know my mother wishes for war just as much as your grandfather does. I don’t think she’s said as much just yet, but it’s plainly obvious. She seems to just be waiting for a reason to declare war.”

Aegon shook his head in exasperation. “Viserys must be turning in his grave at all this in-fighting.”

Varaena hesitated for a moment, wanting to ask but almost scared to say the words.

“Aegon,” she said slowly, “where is he?”

He understood her immediately. “He’s gone for a ride on Vaghar, he should be back soon. He’ll lose his fucking mind when he sees you.”

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Why not?” Aegon scoffed. “Don’t you want to see him?”

“Of course I do, but if he sees me here now, he’ll never let me leave.”

“Why the fuck would you want to leave? You’ve escaped your psychotic parents, one would think you’d be happy.”

“Because if I don’t go back, who knows what Rhaenyra and Daemon will do in retaliation. I can’t have that blood on my hands. Besides, I can’t leave my brothers there alone, not with those two. I couldn’t live with myself if I abandoned them now.”

Aegon shook his head in disbelief. “You and your sentimentality. It’s going to get you killed one of these days.”

“Are you telling me that if you were in my place, and it was Aemond or Helaena who were in trouble, you wouldn’t do everything in your power to save them?

That silenced him for a minute.

“What’s your plan, then, Varaena? Go running back to Dragonstone and hope for the best? Hope that mommy and daddy don’t kill you this time?”

“I’ll be in a prime position, Aegon. If I can play the dutiful daughter, as disgusting as it may be, I might be able to stave off war for a while longer.”

“But to what end? It’s going to happen one way or the other. My grandfather hates your mother with a fucking passion, and Rhaenyra would rather die than concede the throne. I don’t see any path which doesn’t lead to war. Unless, perhaps…”

“Perhaps what?”

“Have you reconsidered your decision? About the throne?”

Yes, she had. She’d resolved that day in the throne room, watching her mother sitting on the throne, feeling that fear of the future take over her. Even from a distance she could see that gleam in Rhaenyra’s eyes, the one that told her that this was just the beginning. And that cut on Rhaenyra’s hand…further proof that the gods didn’t want her to lead.

“I take it from your silence that you have?” Aegon interrupted her thoughts.

“It doesn’t matter at this point, it’s too late. If I put myself forward, it’s yet another person, another set of allegiances, to instigate this war. And all those people who would choose to follow me? When Rhaenyra, or Otto, kill them eventually, that will be my fault. I can’t ask anyone to fight for me.”

“You don’t have to, Varaena. They won’t be following you out of some blind allegiance, or a sense of obligation, they would be following you because they believe in you, because they believe that you can make this world a better place.”

They were both silent for a moment, but as she opened her mouth to say something, they heard the doors starting to open, so she ducked around the corner, behind one of the doors to the bedchamber to hide.

“There you are,” Alicent’s voice filled the room. “Your grandfather has been looking for you.”

“What does he want? To tell me again what a fool I’m being?”

“You know he only wants what’s best, for you and the kingdom.”

“He has a funny way of showing it,” Aegon scoffed. “Tell me something mother, we both know how you feel about his plans, so how can you go along with him so willingly?”

“What else am I to do, Aegon? My hopes rested on my daughter-in-law, but she has disappeared, and I can only assume she’s dead, so where does that leave us?”

Varaena closed her eyes and prayed that Aegon wouldn’t say anything about her being hidden in the room, and thankfully he didn’t.

“You don’t know that. And even still, just because she’s gone does not mean that all hope is lost, or that Otto is the only choice left. If that was the case, we’d be severely fucked.”

Alicent sighed. “Aegon, can you please just go talk to him? If I have to listen to him drone on about this bloody war for one more second, I may just pitch myself off the highest tower in the keep.”

Varaena heard the doors open and close again, signaling that Alicent had left, so she poked her head around the door.

“Why the fuck are you hiding?” Aegon demanded.

“Thank you for not telling her I was here,” was her reply. 

“I’m starting to regret that. What is going on with you? Before you left, you would rather have cut someone’s eyes out than have to hide from them. What the fuck have they been doing to you on that island?”

“Leave it alone, Aegon,” she hissed.

“Varaena, please don’t go back there. Please don’t return to them, to that shithole. I’ll send a raven to Lucerys, I’ll tell him you got out, tell him to join us here, just please-”

“I can’t do that, I can’t stay, not now. But soon,” she promised.

He opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to rethink his words, and instead said, “How did you even get here? I’ve been meaning to ask that. It would take too long to come by ship, and even if you had, that means you wouldn’t be alone.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his words, and she averted her gaze. She wasn’t exactly sure why she didn’t come right out and say that she had a dragon, but she supposed that it was because a part of her was still in disbelief over it. 

If she tried, she could still feel that pull in her chest, like a tether that stretched out towards the sea where she assumed Cannibal was flying around waiting for her to call for him.

“Varaena?” Aegon smirked, his eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “Do you have something you want to tell me?”

Just then, the doors burst open.

“Aegon, we need to alert the guards, there’s a wild dragon flying over-”

Aemond cut himself off as he took her in. He seemed to stop breathing as he stood there, frozen like a statue.

She, too, couldn’t seem to move, her mind suddenly rushing back to memories of them, alone at night. The kind of thoughts that made a blush creep up her cheeks. All she wanted to do was run to him and throw herself into his arms, but her feet were stuck. 

But it didn’t matter.

He stepped towards her, slowly, reaching out with trepidation and hesitantly touching her, as though to make sure she wasn’t a dream. Once he was sure that she was in fact real, she heard a breath release from him, like a sigh of relief, and he pulled her swiftly into his arms, crushing her against his chest.

His hot breath ghosted down her skin as he buried his face in her neck, his fingers digging into her back, while she inhaled deeply, relishing in his scent, in the feel of him against her. She had been so afraid that she would never get this again.

“Um, I hate to break up what appears to be a happy reunion, but perhaps you two could save my eyes and my stomach and do this later?”

She huffed at his comment, pulling back from Aemond who was reluctant to let her go.

“Where have you been?” he demanded. “Are you alright? What happened to you?”

“I’m fine, Aemond, I promise. My…Rhaenyra and Daemon, they…”

She wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t tell him what they did exactly, it wouldn’t help things to make him angry. But she didn’t know how else to explain her disappearance. 

“What did they do?” His voice was deadly.

“It doesn’t matter. The point is that they took me to Dragonstone. That’s where I’ve been the last week…I think…”

“You think? You mean you don’t know?”

“No, I don’t know! I haven’t exactly been focusing on the days, Aemond. I have a lot more serious things to think about!”

“Like what? What’s been happening over there to keep you from getting back here?”

“What do you think has been happening? You think it’s been all sunshine and daisies over there? They’re preparing for war! Just like Otto! And I’ve been trying to play my part like I always have, do what I can to protect my brothers, just trying to stay safe!”

“Then why are you here now? If you obviously weren’t ready to come back, because it sounds like you weren’t, what the hell are you doing here now?” His eyes flashed with rage as he got up close and personal.

“I didn’t plan it, it just happened! If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have come back yet! Who knows what the fuck Rhaenyra and Daemon think happened to me, if they attack King’s Landing, all that blood would be on my hands!”

“Wait, what do you mean you didn’t plan it?” Aegon cut in.

“It just sort of happened,” she said quietly.

“Aemond, what were you saying before you walked in here?” Aegon turned to his brother.

“What?” Aemond snapped.

“What were you about to say when you walked in here, before you saw Varaena?”

Aemond thought for a moment. “I was saying that the guards need to keep an eye out, and be prepared. I saw one of the wild dragons circling the air over King’s Landing when I was up there with Vaghar.”

Aegon turned slowly to face Varaena again, a wide grin on his face. “So that’s how you got here.”

“What do you mean?” Aemond questioned. 

“Varaena was about to tell me how she made it here before you burst in, but you’ve just answered for her. How did you manage to bond with a wild one?”

Aemond’s head whipped back to Varaena, the shock clear across his face.

“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s not like I intended to, it just happened. I was on Dragonstone, and…Daemon and I were fighting. Like we usually do. Then, a guard came in and said that one of the dragons had been seen flying out of the Dragonmont. That’s when I felt it.

“Felt what?” Aemond asked.

“It’s hard to explain, it was like this…this tug on my bones . I mean, first there was this almost rumbling in my chest, then I felt that pull, like something reaching me out and holding onto me. I couldn’t explain it, I just followed it, and it led me down to the beach, and a moment later, there he was. He landed right in front of me, and I felt it grow even stronger then. And even more than that, I could feel him. I could feel his every emotion, his pain, his anger, his amusement, all of it. It was like he became an extension of me, or perhaps I became an extension of him. I don’t really know.”

Aemond and Aegon shared a look, a silent conversation passing between them in that moment.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing,” Aegon said quickly, “just that well…we’ve never heard of someone bonding so intensely with a dragon, or a bond being initiated in such a manner for that matter.”

“Is that not how it usually goes? Aemond? How did you bond with–with Vaghar?”

She didn’t like bringing up that night. It wasn’t something they had talked about really. 

“I sought her out. To be perfectly honest, I’m not really sure if I was intentionally wanting to bond with her, or if I was just curious. Wanting to see if it was even possible. When I reached her, she seemed less than interested in me, but thankfully she didn’t eat me when I tried to mount her. That’s when she took off to the skies, with me clinging to her back, hoping I didn’t fall off and plummet to my death. I think that was her testing me, to see if I could even handle it. That’s when I felt it, felt her. I felt the bond snap into place. I couldn’t feel her as intensely as it seems you can with Cannibal, but I felt her nonetheless. I could sense when she was angry, or satisfied, and she could feel my emotions whenever I was angry or or happy. I’m sure it’s similar with Aegon and Sunfyre, only his was probably easier.”

“What do you think it means then?” Varaena asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Aegon shook his head. “I haven’t heard of a bonding like this since the days of Old Valyria. It was said that the kings and queens of their time could bond so deeply with their dragons, that they became one and the same creature. The dragons understand our Valyrian words, but supposedly they could communicate telepathically. They were even said to have taken on some of the characteristics of the dragons, growing scales, breathing fire, even sprouting wings on command. Not that I believe in such tales, of course, but given your circumstance, it begs the question just how many of them are true.”

“Well I don’t have scales, and, unfortunately, I also don’t have wings, so that answers that question,” she laughed nervously.

“Why didn’t you tell me you claimed a dragon?” Aemond whispered, picking her hand up and holding it in his.

“You were a bit too busy yelling for me to get it out. Besides, it didn’t seem like the most important thing at the moment.”

“You claiming a dragon is one of the most important things. You’ve waited for this moment your whole life,” he reached up to stroke her cheek.

She leant into the touch, relishing in his comforting presence. She had missed him so much, more than she would ever admit.

Aegon cleared his throat awkwardly. “As wonderful as it is to see you, Varaena, I think I’ll take my leave for the time being. Come find me before you leave, please?”

She nodded and smiled, pulling him in for a quick hug before Aegon practically ran out of the room.

“What’s his problem?” She laughed as the door shut behind him.

When she looked back at Aemond, the look he gave her was enough to make her knees weak. His hold on her hand tightened as he pulled her flush against his chest. The blood rose to her face and her heart started racing. He got closer and closer to her, his hand rising back to her cheek, and her neck, pulling her lips to his. 

His lips were soft, his kiss unsure. Like he was waiting for her to push him off.

But she just reached up to clutch his back and pull him in deeper. He let out a grunt at the sudden movement, but he didn’t break the kiss. Instead, she felt his tongue at the seam of her lips, requesting access, which she readily granted.

He finally broke the kiss, for only a moment, so he could bend down and pick her up, throwing her legs around his waist, while one of his hands traveled up under her skirt to grasp her bare ass. 

She felt a pounding in her chest, and heat rushing down between her thighs.

Aemond started his way down her neck and chest, planting kisses of possession on her collarbone, and the tops of her breasts. 

Her head fell back as she let out a brief moan, before the realization of where they were came flooding back to her.

“Aemond,” she panted, “we have to stop.”

He immediately halted his journey across her skin, raising his head to face her again, a quizzical look across his features.

“I want you more than anything right now, but I refuse to have sex with you here.”

He gave her a smirk. “These chambers could be yours, you know. That bed will be yours someday, I’m sure of it.”

“Maybe so, but as of right now, these chambers are still in my mind as my grandfather’s where he lived and where he died mere weeks ago, and I absolutely refuse to desecrate his memory.”

Aemond threw his head back and laughed. “Fine, fine, you win.”

He lowered her slowly to the ground, bringing her in for another kiss. She could feel his smile on her face, before he broke away and led her to the door, her hand still in his. He looked out into the hallway, making sure no one was watching, before pulling her out and down the hall, towards his old chambers. 

She glanced back in the direction of where hers had been, and he seemed to read her mind.

“After you left I…I couldn’t sleep in there anymore. But, we could go there if you’d prefer?”

“No, this is fine. I don’t think I’ve seen the inside of your chambers since we were children,” she chuckled.

He smiled at her before opening the door and leading her inside.

Inside was pretty much as she had expected. Bare of anything beyond furniture, and a number of books. He had his bed, some blankets, the couches and chairs, a bookcase, a desk. But the rest of it was devoid of life. Like it was simply where he lay his head and not where he lived.

But she didn’t get much more time than that to look around, because the next thing she knew he was on her again, his lips traveling all over her body, devouring her hungrily, like a starving man who was given food for the first time.

He held her head in both hands, one of those hands slowly moving to wrap itself around her neck, which sent a pulse of pleasure through her.

“I’ve missed you,” he breathed as he looked her up and down. “I’ve missed having you with me. I’ve missed getting to touch you, feeling you tremble beneath me as I fuck you.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she prayed he kept going.

“But more than that,” he continued. “I missed your presence. I missed your smile, I missed your laugh, and I missed talking to you.”

Her heart broke at his words, the sincerity in them, the love.

“I love you,” she whispered.

He looked at her, his sapphire eye piercing her very soul, and she swore she saw a tear.

“I love you more than life itself,” he said hoarsely.

He led her to the bed, placing her down ever so gently, but the look in his eyes told her that was the last time he was going to be gentle with her this time. 

She was right.

“Just so you know,” he practically growled, “I’m going to fuck you. Hard. Hard enough that you probably won’t be able to ride Cannibal back to Dragonstone. Hard enough that when you come, you’ll scream my name for all of King’s Landing to hear.”

She let out a sharp gasp at his words, feeling her former confidence dwindle just a bit. 

Yet she still found courage enough to say, “Then what are you waiting for? Fuck me.”

He was on her in a second, practically tearing off her dress, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses up and down her chest and abdomen. 

When he reached the apex of her thighs, he glanced back up at her briefly, a gleam in his eyes, as he leaned his head back down and spread her legs wider.

The first touch of his tongue was heaven.

She jerked at the feel of his mouth working against her clit, but he just reached a hand up to hold her down as he continued his ministrations. He licked her all the way from her opening to her clit, and she let out a deep moan at the touch, her hands flying to his head as her fingers buried themselves in his hair. 

It didn’t take long before she felt a tightening in her abdomen, her nerves coming alive as her body reacted, just before she climaxed, an intense wave of pleasure rocketing through as her whole body moved with her release.

When Aemond stood up again, his face was painted with an arrogant smirk.

He leaned over her, planting a kiss on her lips, and she could taste herself on his mouth.

It only turned her on even more.

She heard the rustle of his pants as he straightened out, his swift fingers working to undo the laces and buttons.

When he had finished, he pulled himself free, and she felt her mouth go dry as she looked on at him.

He started towards her, but she shook her head at him. Confused, he stopped and waited for her to speak.

“Take them off,” she ordered.

He raised a brow before his hands went to the waist of his pants and he pushed them to the ground, stepping out and kicking them to the side.

“Now your shirt.”

That too joined the pants in a pile on the floor.

Her eyes moved over every inch of his body, from the toned muscles to the scars from training incidents. 

Every part of him made her heart sigh, and her body tremble.

She silently beckoned him over to her, but he decided to take it one step further. 

He reached up, and carefully took off his eye patch. 

The one that he was never without. 

He never removed it for anyone.

Except for her.

And she had never felt so honoured.

He walked slowly over to her again, moving forward till he hovered above her, his lips touching her skin.

She felt him prodding at her entrance, and in one quick movement, he was buried inside her.

Her muscles clenched tightly around his cock, causing him to groan, while she moaned his name.

His hips snapped forward as he started to thrust, his movements frantic and needy, born of pure desire rather than tender love.

But she didn’t mind.

At that moment, she felt the same.

He started pushing harder, faster, moving one of her legs to rest on his shoulder, allowing him to reach deeper inside of her, to a place she didn’t know she could feel him.

The please was almost excruciating, more intense than anything she had ever felt before, almost to the point of pain.

“Harder,” she urged him, and he complied.

The muscles in her body tensed up and everything tightened like a cord being pulled so tightly you wondered if it would snap.

One of his hands moved down to stroke her clit again, and that was it.

Her climax ripped through her, and true to his word, she screamed. Loud enough for the whole Keep to hear, loud enough for Cannibal in the skies above to hear, too.

He followed soon after, spilling himself inside her with a loud groan, his hips stuttering a bit as he did so, before he collapsed on the bed beside her, a look of awe, and love, written all over his face.

And in that moment, she felt invincible.

Chapter Text

Varaena’s POV:

Her fingers slowly intertwined with Aemond’s, weaving in and out of each other as they held their hands up above the bed where they lay. Her back rested on his chest, the warmth of his skin against hers a comforting presence. 

She knew she would have to leave soon to return to Dragonstone. For as much as her parents ignored her, they were likely to have noticed her absence by now, and there were only so many places one could go on that island.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” The rumble of his chest as he spoke gave her gooseflesh.

“About what, exactly?”

“You know what, Varaena. I won’t force you if you’re not ready, but at some point I want to know.”

She stayed silent for a moment, considering her words. She had known what he meant the moment he asked, but she hoped that if she played dumb perhaps he would just move on.

“My mother had invited me for tea,” she whispered. “She told me that Jace would be there as well, and that she wanted us to be on good terms before they left. And I foolishly believed her. I couldn’t give two shits about my mother, but despite everything that’s happened, he’s still my brother. It wasn’t his decision to be named heir, it was hers. I’ve spent my life trying to protect him, and I couldn’t give up on him now.”

Varaena sighed and sat up, wrapping her arms around her legs as she pulled them close to her chest. She felt the bed shift and an arm snake around her shoulders as Aemond sat up beside her. 

“Jace said his piece, and I said mine. I believed things were alright. He left, but Rhaenyra asked if I could stay behind for a moment to talk further. I thought maybe, just maybe, she wanted to apologize, or at least express some semblance of regret, but she just started talking about how she regretted agreeing to our marriage, about sending me back here in the first place. She kept saying that it was a mistake to trust me, and that she was disappointed in how I’d let myself be taken in by you and your family. That’s when things started to get a bit…fuzzy. My vision started to go black, and I felt dizzy, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in my bed on Dragonstone, a few days later.”

Aemond’s grip on her shoulders tightened just a bit. 

“I knew she was capable of some dark things, but I never thought she would poison and kidnap her own daughter. I’m surprised she even cared enough to, but knowing her I suppose it makes sense.”

“How does any of this make sense?” Aemond growled.

“My mother is extremely possessive, as I’m sure you are aware, and she also detests your mother and her children. If she believed that yet another thing had been stolen from her, she wouldn’t hesitate to commit atrocious acts in retribution.”

“You,” he said firmly as he took her face in hand and turned her gaze towards him, “are not a thing to be stolen. You are your own person. You are important, you are worthy, and you are precious. You are everything .”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, so she leaned in close to him, resting her head on his, so that he couldn’t see her crying.

He held her against his chest so tightly, it felt to her as though their separate heartbeats became one. She took deep, calming breaths, collecting herself before she pulled back to look him in the eye. 

His still working eye bore into her soul, while the sapphire that now sat in place of his lost one shimmered in the golden light.

Varaena reached up a hand to stroke the skin near his lost eye, her soft fingers leaving a trail along the scars that lay there.

Aemond shuddered a bit under her touch and tried to pull back, but she wouldn’t let him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry for what I did to you.”

“Varaena,” he started.

“Please, just…let me say this,” she pleaded, turning so that she was sitting on her calves in front of him. “I was so, so angry with you when I saw you again on Driftmark. You were the only person who had truly seen me, or so I thought, and then you had ripped out my heart and stomped on it. By that time, I had already been half in love with you, and I felt so stupid for it.

“My mother had long since lost interest in me, and Laenor was trying his best, but losing his sister broke him, and I had worked so hard to keep my brothers happy that it left me all alone to deal with my issues. When I saw you claiming Vhagar, I felt that rage boil over, because here we were, grieving the loss of a beloved family member, and you were stealing her dragon, and all I could think was how arrogant and selfish you were. Yes, I was trying to protect my brothers, but I didn’t need to take a dagger with me. I took it because a part of me hoped that I would get the chance to kill you. If I could turn back time and undo what I did, I-”

“Stop, just stop,” he sighed, extracting himself from the blankets so he could stand up. “You can’t change the past, Varaena, nor would I want you to. I believe everything happens for a reason. The gods guide our every step, even if we cannot see or feel it. I don’t yet understand why they would lead you to taking my eye, but they did, and I have to believe that something good came of it. Perhaps it was this very moment, where I could tell you that it doesn’t matter that it was you who used the blade, because I love you. And the fact that despite this grotesque thing on my face you still see me as I am only makes me love you more.”

The tears began to fall in earnest now, and she did nothing to hide them. Aemond moved quickly over to her, sweeping her up in his arms while she threw hers around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder.

“I love you,” she whispered softly between tears. “You are the very breath in my lungs, Aemond Targaryen, the other half to my soul.”

He pulled back just long enough to look into her eyes, before planting his lips on hers in the softest kiss, which slowly turned more and more passionate and forceful, as though he could actually become the breath in her lungs, as though they could meld into one person.

She hated that this had to come to an end.

“Aemond,” she gasped, “I have to go.”

“Go where?” He chuckled.

“Dragonstone. I’m sure they’ve noticed by now that I’m missing, I have to return before too long.”

She stood from the bed, searching quickly for her clothes which had been strewn all across the room in their haste to be together.

“Why would you go back to them, to that place?”

“My brothers are still there, I can’t just leave them. Besides, if being there gives me a chance to end this war before it even begins, I must try.”

“Varaena, you know what they’ll do to you if you go back. I can’t let you do this.”

“I don’t have a choice, Aemond. They’re my brothers.”

He was silent for a moment. “What about us? Are you going to come back to us? To me?”

She looked at him incredulously. “Of course I will, how could you even ask that?”

“Because I need to hear it. I need to know that you will come back to me. That I won’t be forced to spend the rest of my life, however long that may be, without you.”

“Aemond, I swear to you, I will return. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, there is nothing that could keep me from you.”

She kissed him deeply, breaking away all too soon to finish dressing. He, too, stood and dressed, ready to follow her out. They made their way silently through the halls, ducking around any available corners to avoid being seen. 

Before they left the Keep, they stopped at Aegon’s chambers, so she could say goodbye. 

He pressed her again for a decision as to whether or not she was going to claim the throne herself, but she remained tight-lipped on it. Not that she had changed her mind, but as much as she loved Aegon he would not be the first person to hear her choice. He did promise to keep looking for any kind of proof of Viserys’ last wish.

He hugged her tightly, and whispered in her ear that if anything happened to her, there would be a bloodbath on Dragonstone.

Aemond followed her down through the bowels of the Keep, all the way out to the hidden beach where Cannibal had left her.

She watched the skies, waiting for him to reappear.

“Before I go, there’s something that I should tell you,” she said as she turned to her husband.

“What is it?” He furrowed his brow.

She took a deep breath. “I’m going to fight for the throne. I cannot stand by and let my mother win. If I had any other choice, I would take it. I never wanted the throne, and I still wish I didn’t have to do this, but I must. For the good of Westeros.”

Aemond smiled slowly, his pride evident on his face.

“I will stand by you, no matter what,” he promised her.

Her heart squeezed just a little, still surprised at his love for her.

She heard something behind her, the sound of wings beating heavily against the wind.

Without turning around she knew her dragon had come for her. Aemond looked up in awe at the sheer size and features of Cannibal, doing nothing to hide his shock at the fact that she of all people had claimed this dragon.

“My first plan of action is to fly north, to see Cregan Stark. He’s my best chance at an ally, if I can speak with him. My mother will likely wish to send someone north anyway to reaffirm his oath to her, so I’ll find some way to either be the one to go, or to follow along. I’ll send you a raven once I’ve spoken to him.”

She walked up to Cannibal and stepped on his leg which he had bent down for her, holding on tight as he lifted his leg and placed her upon his back.

“I love you,” she shouted to Aemond, just before Cannibal took to the skies.

She would never tire of this, she knew. There was nothing else like it in the world.

In the air, she could simply exist. She didn’t have to worry about the war, about her parents, about her responsibilities. She didn’t have to think about the things in life that had gotten her to where she was, especially the memories she had tried so hard to forget but had never been able to expel from her mind.

She simply was.

And it was glorious.

The sun had long since set by the time she landed on Dragonstone, not far from the Dragonmont. Cannibal lifted his wing and leg to help her down easily, and she thanked him silently before he lumbered off back into the mountain to sleep.

She made her way carefully down the mountain, trying not to slip and fall as many people had done before. She was already dreading the things Daemon might do to her, she didn’t want to add a perilous fall down the mountainside to her injuries.

Quietly she opened one of the side doors to the castle, keeping a watchful eye for anyone around, before creeping down the hall towards her chambers. She opened her chamber door, and closed it, trying hard not to let it slam shut given how heavy it was. She let out a breath in relief, and turned to walk further into the room, but was immediately confronted by an unexpected presence.

“Just where the fuck have you been?” Lucerys asked from his seat on the balcony.

“Gods!” she screamed. “Luc, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve been waiting for you. After you disappeared, everyone was searching the island for you, but I had a feeling you would reappear sooner or later, it was just a matter of time. So I’ll ask again. Where the fuck have you been?”

Varaena had never seen him so serious, so demanding. She knew he didn’t come from a place of anger, but rather extreme concern over her wellbeing. But it still rattled her to see him this way.

“I was–I just–well, I had gone out for a walk and I fell a–and I must have been unconscious, because I only just woke up a few hours ago.”

She hated lying to him, but she wasn’t ready to tell him about her dragon just yet. Not because he couldn’t be trusted, on the contrary. He was perhaps the most trustworthy person she had ever known. But, rather, because here on Dragonstone, she couldn’t trust that anything she said wouldn’t make it back to Rhaenyra. The woman seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere, most especially on the island. It was her domain after all.

She was just lucky that she did indeed have a nasty bruise on her head from an unfortunate incident with Aemond and a wall which he felt extremely sorry for, and she would certainly never let him live down.

Lucerys’ eyes raked over her disheveled appearance, and she could tell that he didn’t believe her, but he was willing to drop it for now.

“I expect you’ll tell me the truth at some point?” was all he said in response.

She nodded silently.

“Fine. Then I’ll say nothing more about it.”

In a few short strides he was upon her, pulling her into a tight embrace, his fingers digging into her back. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his own, appreciating his need for comfort, as she needed some as well, and there was nothing better than a warm hug from her beloved brother.

“I’m leaving in the morning,” he whispered. “So is Jace.”

“What?” she backed up. “Where are you going?”

“I’m to fly to Storm’s End, to reaffirm the oath made by the Baratheons. Jace is to fly north, to Winterfell, to do the same with Lord Stark.”

This was it. This was the moment.

“Lucerys, I need to tell you something.”

He looked at her quizzically. “What’s the matter?”

“Not here,” she shook her head.

She grabbed her cloak, which was still resting on the chaise at the foot of her bed, and motioned for him to follow her. In the hall, she took one of the torches from it’s hook on the wall, and led him through the castle, back down one of the side stairs, and onto the beach. At least there she could be sure no one would hear.

“Is there a reason you’ve dragged me all the way out here?” he laughed.

“I need to tell you something, and I can’t say it in the castle. There’s too many prying ears in there.”

“Well, what is it? What’s going on?”

“As you know, before he died, Viserys expressed his wish that I be made queen instead of Rhaenyra. As of yet, there is still no proof of this beyond my word, as I was the only one present when he made his declaration. But Aegon has promised to keep searching for any evidence that Viserys might have left.”

“I know all this already, why are you repeating this?”

“Because I have decided something that will change the course of both our lives, for good or bad. I wasn’t sure for a long time how to handle this. I’ve never wanted the throne, as you well know. I’ve never believed myself suited for it, but now I feel I have no choice. I cannot let Rhaenyra take control, and destroy this land that our ancestors worked so hard to build. She cares for nothing but herself and the power that she holds, and I know if she were to sit the throne, it would lead to the ruination of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Lucerys; eyes widened. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

She nodded. “I’ve decided to fight for the throne.”

Lucerys’ mouth dropped open slightly, his shock evident even in the dim light of the torch which she had stuck into the sand.

“Well?” she demanded after a few minutes of silence. “Say something!”

He immediately knelt to the ground, putting one arm across his chest, and bowing his head in reverence.

“My Queen,” he started. 

“What are you doing?” she interrupted, but he kept going.

“ I, Lucerys Velaryon, promise to be faithful to you, Queen Varaena Targaryen. I pledge fealty to you, and shall defend you against all enemies, in good faith, and without deceit. I swear this, by the Old Gods and the New.”

Tears came to her eyes, and she instantly moved to pull him up from the ground.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she tried to say, but he wouldn’t have it.

“Yes, I did. You must know, Varaena, I will always remain loyal to you. You are my queen now, but you shall always be my sister first.”

She smiled and reached up to stroke his cheek, then pulled him in for another hug, whispering that she loved him.

“What do we do now?” Lucerys asked.

“Now, I have to figure out some way for Rhaenyra to allow me to travel north with Jace. That was already my plan, but it seems I must accelerate my plans. Lorde Stark and I already have a good relationship, so I’m hoping I can persuade him to join my side. As for you, perhaps you can speak with Lord Baratheon for me.”

“Me? You would trust me to do that for you?”

“There is no one I would trust more than you to speak to potential allies. If there is anyone who could convince him to join my cause, it’ll be you.”

He nodded solemnly. “Then consider it done. But how are we to keep Rhaenyra from knowing of this until the time is right? Will the Lords not declare for you publicly?”

“I’m hoping to persuade them to keep their allegiances quiet, telling only those who must know, until I decide to step forward. That is another thing you might discuss with Lord Baratheon. But, for now, let’s return to the castle and get some sleep. If I stay awake much longer, I’m afraid I might drop.”

They both laughed, and Lucerys jokingly offered her his arm to keep her steady as they walked back to the castle.

Unbeknownst to them, someone had been watching their entire exchange from their balcony.

It had taken much convincing for Rhaenyra to allow Varaena to travel north with Jace. Thankfully, she had said nothing about Varaena’s long absence, nor even noting her sudden return. But she was incredibly wary of sending someone she knew was on the cusp of defecting to speak to an ally, with no assurance that Varaena would indeed speak in her favour. In the end, Jace surprisingly stepped in and convinced his mother that he would do all the talking, and would keep an eye on Varaena.

Varaena bristled at the way Jace said this, as if she was a child who needed to learn her place.