Chapter 3

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He admits that his reaction was not the best, all things considered but it was not the worst. When the hood came down he was frozen, that was the most beautiful child he had ever seen. She had the blood of the dragon that was clear, but all members of his family were accounted for, as well as the dragon seeds. He supposed she could be a Velaryon or a Celtigar bastard but that was extremely unlikely. The Velaryon's had dark skin and the face was too soft for a Celtigar and while she could have a defect from  birth that set her apart the monster infants were a thing that only happened in the Targaryen house. The dragon blood too strong in some of them, born with wings and scales and tails but still impossibly beautiful. She was not monstrous in appearance far from it, but it was clear that se was a monster child, the dragon blood a little too strong in her, just like his brother, just like his mother. A shiver ran down his spine when the thought that this child was his brother's entered his mind, but no, the child looked around 8 years old and his brother didn't begin to frequent the brothels with consistency until after his marriage, before then too focused on becoming a knight and  obtaining Dark Sister.

She had dual coloured eyes just like his mother, the child was a Targaryen, but whose was she? He didn't have any bastards, rarely when he visited a whore she made sure that no child will grow in their womb, his brother was already excluded from his thoughts. That left his uncle Aemon but he was long dead and was happily married, his uncle Vaegon that was a maester, and while not all maesters are faithful to their vows, his uncle had a particular distaste for intimate acts and children same with his aunt Rhaella who was a septa. She could have been Saera's bastard but her children were all in Essos and accounted for. Rhaenys barely managed to give birth to Laena and Laenor and a pregnancy would have been hard to hide. Aemma was excluded as well for obvious reasons. And while the thought was crass even in his own mind the Old King was well past his child fathering years before he died. So the question remained, from where exactly did a Targaryen bastard came from?

Viserys exchange with the child left his head spinning. She was here to help them? Her? A child of barely one and ten? And Oh Gods had Aemma been this little when they married? He chased away that thought as soon as it came. He didn't want to think about that. The situation and her little remarks made him laugh if a little unhinged. But oh how beautifully the dragon in her reared its head. Barred teeth and tears glittering in her eyes she threw blow after blow, gruesome scene after another. The dragon in him purred at the show of strength. And then she left. She simply left him standing there staring at the space she previously occupied, with his mind in shambles, his heart beating fast and his dragon unsatisfied with a brief fight that he didn't even had time to process.

"This really happened?" Asked his Lord Commander snapping from his reverie.

"Yes, run after her. Find her and brig her back, I need answers. And if anybody stops you and ask, this never happened." He replied and Westerling was already out the door in his search for the little dragon.

He took the message she first gave him and began to  study it anew. The letter began simply with the words "I am a Dragon" and that was one of the truest things he knew. It was a fact and it was stated like a fact. The sky was blue, the grass was green and the girl was a Dragon. The rest was what left him thinking, she knew Aegon's dream or at least she knew about it, and the things she said about his family made him this that she was a dreamer or had been in contact with one. That was hard to believe, dreamers were rare and even though he believed himself to be a dreamer he, Aegon and even Daenys had only one dream that was a vision. The things the girl talked about would have been the results of multiple dreams of multiple events so Viserys shelved that thought and put the words of the child in the active imagination category, a morbid one for sure but an active imagination nonetheless.

He didn't know how much time he spent there at his desk with the letter between his fingers but the night was slowly coming when the Lord Commander came back emptied handed saying they the child is gone. The King dismissed him and heard him mumbling about disappearing Targaryens and how it's happening again.

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