Daemon and Rhaenyra married. Their first child was sent by the Gods to save them all. Deirys Targaryen was born with a direct connection to the Fourteen Flames and the magic of Old Valyria. Her connection to her uncle will change the Dance of the Dr...
This chapter starts a little dark, not too dark, but there will be descriptions of death. We also see Deirys having to make some important choices. We will get a glimpse of a possible future and some Valyrian magic. High Valyrian will be in italics. I hope you guys enjoy it. ❤️🥰
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Deirys Targaryen (13 years old. End of the war feast.)
Deirys laughed as her father spun her around, her blue gown flaring around her. Her father had danced with her mother, and two sisters and then insisted he could not leave without dancing with her at least once. Deirys enjoyed dancing with her father, he made things fun. Her mother was sitting at the main table, speaking with Princess Rhaenys and Lady Laena. Lord Corlys was sitting at the end of the table, his time was spent between glaring at her mother and Anari. Deirys rolled her eyes and try to forget about the grumpy lord. Once the dance was done they all clapped politely. Deirys wanted to dance with her uncle, but Aemond did not dance. He knew how to dance, he just refused to. It always made Deirys smile when ladies would ask him to dance and he would refuse without giving a single reason as to why. Deirys and Daemon were standing by the balcony doors, watching people dance. Rhaenyra started making her way toward them. Deirys opened her mouth, she liked teasing her parents about the fact they could not be too long away from each other when the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. Deirys swayed and felt strong arms wrap around her waist, trying to keep her steady.
"Deirys?" Her father's voice sounded worried, it sounded like it was coming from leagues away. The room appeared to pulse, it felt like a heartbeat, it felt alive. "What is wrong?"
Deirys looked down to see her hands were covered in blood. There was so much it was dripping down her fingers, it appeared to pull underneath her dress and soak into the floors. For a moment she thought she would relieve the contents in her stomach. She looked up once more and the room was eerily quiet. All she could see were bodies, some were on the floor, some on the table. Some of the bodies were missing their heads, others their limbs. Deirys walked closer to the main table, her grandsire was slumped over his chair, the crown on his head crooked and ill-fitting. Half his face was gone, an empty socket where his eyes used to be. His limbs were almost skeletal in appearance. Deirys looked to the left side of the table to see her father sitting in his chair, there was blood on his clothes and his eyes stared ahead, unseeing, dead. Her mother sat beside him, most of her body was burnt. Deirys could smell the burnt flesh, her stomach rolling at the image. Rhaegon and Baelon were on the ground, in front of the table, almost like they had been attempting to get to their parents. Their bodies had so many cuts on them she could not tell if there was any skin left.
She took a step back and swallowed the bile in her throat. She almost tripped over something, looking down once she had regained her balance. Aemma was on the ground, her body twisted in an almost grotesque way, Aenys was next to her, his throat had been cut so deep his head was almost separated from his body. She saw a bloody lump on the ground, but she could not tell what it was until she walked closer. The head was not even recognizable, she could tell it had been crushed. Tears ran down her face when she realized it was her baby sister, Alyssa, not even two weeks old. Deirys stepped back a few steps and a flash of silver head caught her eye. She moved closer and put a hand over her mouth. Her sweet Visenya. Her body was twisted, broken. She could see bruises all over her arms, legs, and face. Her eyes were wide, her face frozen in terror. Deirys did not know what to do, what had happened? A sound came from the balcony she had been standing by a moment before. She forced herself to walk towards it, her eyes widening at the sight. Kings Landing was on fire, dragons loiter the ground, and she could tell they were dead. All the dragons were dead. Her breath came faster and she could see dark spots dancing in front of her eyes. Then she saw him, her uncle Aemond, leaning on the side of the balcony. There was a knife stuck in his good eye, blood ran down his face, and a sword had been stuck so deep into his belly that it had partially embedded into the wall behind him.
