Heir of the Dragon

A Heart Torn In Two

The burden of my previous life weighed heavily on my heart, a constant reminder of the family I had left behind. Flashes of faces, snippets of laughter, and the distant echo of a mother's embrace haunted my thoughts. Yet, these memories remained as elusive as mist, like fragments of a dream that faded upon waking. The guilt I felt for embracing my new life so readily gnawed at me as if I had forsaken the past too quickly.

Visions of my past mother, her face a hazy blend of brown hair and a sweet voice humming in the kitchen, were like specters in the night. The scent of cinnamon and the sight of sunflowers on the windowsill remained etched in my senses, a testament to the love that had once enveloped me. I yearned for those memories, even if they were mere fragments scattered in the sands of time.

Aemma's eyes, cool and blue, felt worlds apart from my previous mother's warm and comforting brown gaze. Guilt twisted within me every time I met Aemma's eyes as if I were betraying the memory of the one who had birthed me. How could I embrace Aemma so readily when the face of my true mother remained shrouded in my memory?

One fateful night, a storm of tears and inconsolable grief tore through my slumber. The name of my previous mother had slipped from my grasp, and the realization felt like a sharp dagger to my heart. My cries echoed through the chambers, a symphony of sorrow that sent my parents rushing to my side.

Their faces, etched with concern and a hint of alarm, only deepened the well of anguish within me. Aemma's arms enveloped me, a haven of comfort amidst the tempest within me. Her voice, gentle and soothing, coaxed my sobs into faint gasps until, at last, I found solace in the embrace of slumber.

As the year turned to 95 AC, life continued its unrelenting march forward. One day, while Ameryls and I played by the fireplace, Viserys and Aemma beckoned me with smiles that seemed to carry secrets of their own. The air hummed with anticipation, and my curiosity fluttered like a bird's wings.

"Rhaegar," Viserys' voice held a spark of excitement, "we have something to share with you."

Aemma's gaze, tender and brimming with affection, turned toward me. "You're going to be a big brother, Rhaegar."

The announcement should have set my heart alight with joy, but instead, a tempest of emotions raged within me. A protest bubbled up from deep within, a cry of resistance that surprised even myself. "No! I don't want a new sibling! Am I not good enough? Are you replacing me so soon?"

Their expressions shifted from joy to astonishment, caught off guard by the sudden outburst. They stumbled over their words, attempting to soothe my storm of emotions, yet their assurances washed over me like a bittersweet rain. Amidst the turmoil, I fled their presence, seeking solace in solitude.

Alone in the dimly lit corridor, I wrestled with the maelstrom of emotions swirling within me. My thoughts surged and crashed like waves against the shore, a tempestuous sea that threatened to consume me.

'It's not yet 97 AC,' I reminded myself, 'so this child can't be Rhaenyra'. I knew that Aemma had suffered through numerous miscarriages and stillbirths in her short life, her resilience in the face of loss a testament to her strength. Yet, a new wave of panic crashed over me—had my mere existence already rewritten the story? Had my presence altered the course of fate itself? What if Aemma's future, once destined, was now uncertain? 'Fate has already been rewritten by my birth what if instead of dying whilst birthing Baelon, mother dies with this babe? Will father still marry that Hightower wench even though he has an heir?'

A sob tore from my chest as I crumbled to the cold stone floor, the weight of my fears pressing down on me. It was then that a familiar figure emerged from the shadows, a beacon of understanding amidst the uncertainty.