Aelyria Targaryen is the product of Rhaenyra's Targaryen wedding night escapade. She grows up in King's Landing amongst vipers and spiders, and not even her silver hair can save her from the rumors of bastardy.
After her brother Luke takes Aemond's...
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After that cursed night at Driftmark, she forced her brothers and cousins to swear secrecy.
They wouldn't tell a soul what really happened the night Aemond had lost his eye. He believed she took it and that was the end of it.
The truth didn't matter, only the perception of it.
A blood oath was sworn, each one of them cutting their palms and vowing to never disclose it until the day they die.
The secret would be dead and buried with them, never to be revealed under any circumstances, not even to their parents.
All of them agreed that was the best path to follow.
Besides, what was another lie compared to the bigger lies they were forced to uphold?
It was the hour of the wolf, when she heard the sound of cracked wood followed by small steps sweeping into her chambers. Aelyria remained still. She knew it was Luke, tormented by the same fears and worries as her.
He slipped into her bed, his breath labored as he clutched her tightly.
"You can't sleep either, can't you?" She whispered weakly.
Ghosts of regret were haunting her little brother. He felt responsible for her and Aemond's maiming, and since that night, he would steal away into her chambers when he couldn't bear it anymore, or when nightmares plagued his sleep.
She didn't want to tell him that she had nightmares too. His burden was already too heavy to carry, and she didn't wish to add to it.
"Why do you think he blamed you?" Luke wondered, "Not that it matters now, but..."
Aelyria inhaled deeply, the memory of Aemond shoving her into the halls of the Red Keep after the Pink Dread popping into her head. He had laid blame at her feet, accusing her that she knew, and somehow she was complicit, though she hadn't even been there.
Aemond had a tendency to judge her unfairly, based on her brothers' actions and failing to see her for what she was.
She had tried to befriend him so many times, but it had always been in vain, until she gave up.
"After you, Jace and Aegon gave him that pig, he cornered me when I got out of the library, and accused me of being part of it. He told me he was glad that my dragon died, that I don't deserve one because I'm a bastard. Then Jace found me on the floor crying."
Luke's body tensed, his fingers coiling into a tight fist. She gently cradled his hand, soothing him as his breaths gradually slowed down.
"I believe that he didn't see you jumping in front of me, and he might've thought I cut out his eye, that's why he attacked me after," she speculated, taking an educated guess. "It doesn't matter anyways. I'm equally responsible for what happened. I threw sand in his eyes and had the intention to do the same thing as you did, pick up that knife and defend Jace."
