Dreams, Dragons, and Deceit || Aemond & Aegon Targaryen

We Light the Way

Visaera leaned against Carrion's snout, patting him and murmuring assurances as the dragonkeepers fixed the saddle to his body. Every few minutes, the dragon would growl and shift, kicking up sand and blinding them all, clearly uncomfortable with the device being strapped to his back.

"You're alright," Visaera reassured him. "This will help me to be safe when we fly." He emitted another low growl and the princess smiled and pressed her face affectionately against his nose. He breathed out, the smell of smoke enveloping her, sticking to her hair and skin as she kissed him.

Despite the fact that they would soon be flying across the continent to rain fire on Old Town, Visaera couldn't help the feeling of happiness that her dragon brought her. "The Cannibal" they had called him, and yet Visaera could feel him in her soul and felt nothing but the love he had for her and the feeling of freedom he carried that she would never quite understand.

How she had been blessed to bond with such a creature when the gods seemed to have cursed her family, she would never know...

The saddle Daemon had made for her was onyx, as black as her dragon, and from a distance, you couldn't tell Carrion was even wearing one. Visaera ran her hands over the leather, stroking her fingers over the red, three-headed dragon embellishment on the side.

As Visaera loaded her satchel the next morning, worry settled in her gut and she paused, trying desperately to shake the feeling.

"What's wrong?" Rhaena asked, leaning against the doorway, watching her sister intently.

"Is this a bad idea?" Visaera dared to voice her doubt, "I can't help but feel like this is a bad idea..."

"Oh, it's a terrible idea," her sister agreed, "But the wheels have already been set in motion. If you don't go, father will, and father will burn the entire fucking city, including the Citadel, if we let him." Her answer gave Visaera little comfort and she let out a shaking breath. "Visaera, I know you want to see the good in everyone, you've always been that way, but when Aegon stole the crown—"

"Aegon didn't steal the crown, Otto and Alicent did. Aegon doesn't want it." Saying his name made her chest tight and she leaned over the bed, inhaling through her nose to keep herself steady.

"It doesn't matter who did it, Vis. They started a war; people die in war. They killed our grandmother and your brother; it cannot go unanswered." Visaera nodded. It wasn't that she disagreed, it was the fact that her anger had ebbed and sorrow filled the hole where her heart used to be, leaving fear and doubt in its wake.

When she thought of Aemond and Aegon; she wanted to hate them, but memories of lying between them came to her mind instead; memories of them agreeing to parley with her mother, to abdicate the throne and do anything to keep her safe...

Jace met her in the great hall and the pair broke their fast together, before packing cheese and fruit into their bags for the journey. When Visaera filled a waterskin with wine, Jace raised an eyebrow but said nothing. During her stay in the Red Keep, she had grown accustomed to drinking too much wine and she hoped it would steady her nerves during the journey.

As they readied their dragons, Daemon appeared on the beach, watching while Visaera tied her satchel to the back of the saddle. She didn't want to speak to him, but he held his arms out expectantly, so she dismounted and stepped into them, allowing him to embrace her.

"I'm so very proud of you, my love," he whispered. The words should have made her delighted, instead, she felt sick. He wasn't proud of her for being Visaera; he was proud of her for being a dragonrider, for being ruthless and vengeful. The princess didn't want to be like her father; she didn't want any of this. Visaera wanted to be back in the gardens with Aegon, with the entirety of her family safe and sound.