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

The Edge of a Dagger

"Yes, I'm alive. No thanks to you and your bastard brother." Her jaw clenched at his words but she didn't bother to reply. He pushed off from the wall and stepped toward the bed, eyes burning with fury.

"Wait, Daeron, listen to me... I—"

"You... You flew across the continent, attacked my home, and killed my dragon." he sneered.

"I didn't thin—"

"Didn't think I would defend the seat of my house; the people who live there?" he interjected, taking another step toward her.

"Your brothers killed Lucerys, I—" she attempted to defend, her mind still scrambled with the milk of the poppy. Staring at her with anger written across his face, he reminded her oddly of Aegon.

"You can defend it any way you'd like, princess. It doesn't change what you've done. Not only did you kill Tessarion, you let your fucking monstrosity eat her!" he snarled, closing the distance between them. Visaera scrambled backward across the bed, falling off the edge. "I was thrilled when I arrived and Mother told me you were being held here, but imagine my surprise when I learned my brother is still fucking you..."

"Stay away from me," she breathed, chest heaving as she realized the predicament she was in. "Aemond will—" Daeron laughed.

"Aemond will do nothing, Visaera. As he did nothing when you were locked in the cells for nearly a week. He did nothing when Grandfather instructed Lord Larys to poison your tea. He did nothing when you burnt the Hightower to the fucking ground!" he snarled. "Aemond is a man of words, but actions don't seem to be his strong suit." He stepped around the bed and Visaera found herself cornered like an animal. "My brothers may not be able to decide what to do with you, but it's an easy choice for me."

Beginning to panic, Visaera glanced around the room, desperately wishing she had something to defend herself with.

"Daeron, please..."

"Oh, now you're going to beg?" he taunted. The cold look on his face filled her with terror, so much that she forgot he was only a boy of sixteen. With a panicked squeak, she shoved off the floor and darted toward the door, yanking it open. Two steps into the corridor, Daeron gripped her by the hair and tugged her backward. Visaera landed on the floor with a heavy thud, her body barely registering the pain.

The entire corridor was empty, oddly so, and Visaera realized exactly what was going to happen to her. Struggling against him, she could feel chunks of her hair being torn from her scalp as he tightened his grip.

"Daeron, please," she begged as tears finally broke free and streamed down her face. "Please don't do this..."

"Mm, where was that sympathy when you burned hundreds of people, Visaera? Where was that sympathy when your dragon ripped Tessarion's wing from her body?" he hissed, gripping her arm and tugging her backward. "Don't worry, I'll let my idiot brothers have your body when I'm done. Perhaps, when you're finally a pile of ashes, they'll allow Mother to find them suitable matches."

As he reached around to grip her neck, Visaera ducked, feeling another section of her hair pull, and then bit him on the arm as hard as she could. Listening to him let out a groan of pain Visaera hoped she drew blood. As he released her, she stomped on his foot with all her strength before making a mad dash down the corridor and up the single level of stairs.

She rounded the corridor, finding it similarly deserted, and made for Aemond's quarters, desperately praying the small council meeting had ended. Making the mistake of glancing back, Visaera tripped over the hem of her dress and sprawled forward, skinning her knees and tearing her dress in the process.