Chapter Twenty Eight

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Lord Vaegon and his twin sister Lady Viserra were kind, fierce, and loyal children. However, their loyalty later made people think of them as cold blooded killers. The histories did not remember them as the quiet and kind Strong twins, it remembered them as the Lord of Vengeance and Riñnykeā Dracarys.

When Lady Viserra returned to King's Landing with her brother's corpse, the small folk hid in their houses, terrified to face her wrath.

Queen Rhaenyra is said to have met her at the gates of the courtyard. Viserra fell into her arms and wept.

"If I was there I could've stopped it. I could have saved him." Viserra muttered to Rhaenyra, in the abandoned courtyard. "I burned them all, but it will not bring him back."

Rhaenyra stroked her hair that smelled of fire and blood. "I know, I know. Vaegon was a good boy." She murmurs, pulling away to look at Viserra with tears in her eyes.

Viserra smiles slightly, "Yes, he was. They all were."

Aemma came down the steps into the courtyard, her eyes instantly going to Vaegon's corpse. Viserra came over and hugged her sister tightly, turning her away from the sight of their brother.

"I should have been with him. I should have died with him." Aemma sobbed, sobbed until she was exhausted and Viserra had to carry her back to her chambers where she held her throughout the night.

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A few squatters had found shelter in Harrenhal's deep vaults and under cellars, but the sound of Caraxes's and Valaena's wings sent them fleeing. When the last of them was gone, Daemon Targaryen and Valaena Valar walked the cavernous halls of Harren's seat alone, with no companion but the ghosts that lived there.

The two avoided each other, staying at two different sides of the castle. Each night at dusk Daemon slashed the heart tree in the godswood to mark the passing of another day. Thirteen marks can be seen upon that weirwood still; old wounds, deep and dark, yet the lords who have ruled Harrenhal since Daemon and Valaena's day say they bleed afresh every spring. On the thirteenth day at Harrenhal a letter arrived informing Valaena of the death of her son, Vaegon Strong who had died the night before.

Daemon had gone to Valaena's chambers that night to find her in front of the fire, tears streaming down her face. She didn't look like the woman he'd known all his life, she was as pale as her white shift, her eyes were sunken, her cheekbones were sharper, protruding.

"The maesters always said a dragon shifter shouldn't have children. Mayhaps this is the gods punishment for me." Her voice was dry, barely a whisper. "Or it's my punishment for what I've done. I'm tired of fighting... It's all I've done since I was a little girl. I've killed men who have fought beside me, I've killed mothers, I've killed people that I loved, I've killed children."

Daemon sighed, "You only ever did what was commanded of you, Val. You are the most loyal and honorable person I have ever met."

"Look what that loyalty and honor has gotten me." Valaena scoffs, bringing her knees up to her chest.

Daemon didn't say anything, he just simply handed her a folded black cloth.

Valaena slowly unwrapped it to find a silver ring. The ring had three stones, a ruby, sapphire, and emerald, all three colors of House Strong. It was the ring Vaegon wore, his father's ring. "I found it in Harwin's chambers."

She merely looked at the ring, gently running her finger over the stones. "Ever since... that night, I couldn't bear to go near that wing. They didn't deserve death, I did... I do."

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