Dreams, Dragons, and Deceit || Aemond & Aegon Targaryen

The Edge of a Dagger

Not a single guard was at their post and Visaera realized that Otto or Alicent had likely given them leave, leaving her easily disposed of. Still, the sounds in the castle echoed and the princess had to hope someone would hear her.

She screamed at the top of her lungs, for only a second before Daeron clamped his hand over her mouth.

"Come on, Vis. Don't be difficult," he growled in her ear, wrenching her back against his chest. When he gripped her around the left arm, she screamed as crippling pain surged through her and her knees gave out beneath her. Her sudden drop caught the prince off guard and she slipped from his arms. Clawing desperately across the floor, Visaera let out another scream, praying someone, anyone, would hear her.

"Fuck," Daeron breathed behind her, sounding out of breath. Visaera didn't think she could escape him, not in her condition, but she hoped she could struggle for long enough that she could be saved. Her mind was a scrambled mess and she prayed for Aemond as she had never prayed before.

This time, when her uncle caught hold of her, she lashed out, scratching him across the cheek. A red line immediately appeared and he grabbed his face, letting out a snarl. Visaera pushed herself up off the floor and sprinted to the end of the corridor.

She didn't have to round the next corner to know she would find it empty. No one was coming to help her; the plan had been well executed. Instead of continuing through the keep, Visaera yanked open the door to Aemond's room and slammed it closed. Before she could slide the bolt closed, the door was thrown open, knocking her back onto the floor.

"You..." Daeron was panting heavy breaths, eyes glittering with hatred as he stalked toward her, "Are testing my fucking patience..."

Visaera frantically glanced around the room, knowing Aemond had to have a blade stored somewhere.

"Daeron, I swear, I—"

"Your words mean absolutely nothing to me, princess. Nothing you say can dissuade me from taking your life, so you may as well save your breath, as you're about to breathe your last."

"If I die, my mother will burn your entire fucking house to the ground!" she spat at him, finally spotting one of Aemond's daggers on the bedside table across the room. So close... She could do this...

For once, one of Daemon's lessons was going to come in handy. Visaera feigned a movement to her left and, when Daeron followed, she bolted right, throwing herself across the bed and reaching for the dagger on the table.

Stretching out her arm, her fingers had just grazed the handle of the blade when Daren yanked her backward by the collar of her dress.

"Feisty little thing you've become, haven't you? If this is how you fight, I see why my brothers enjoy fucking you," he sneered against her cheek. Recalling all the times she had seen her brothers train with Daemon, Visaera threw her head back, colliding with Daeron's nose. She doubted the force was enough to break it, but it was enough for him to loosen his hold on her dress and she scrambled for the table, unsheathing the blade as quickly as she could manage with her trembling hands.

Daeron laughed, the same cold kind of laugh Aemond had given her in Storm's End when she had threatened him with her own dagger. "You're not going to use that, niece," he grinned as he stepped toward her. "You can ride whatever beast you'd like, but you're still just a frightened little doe playing among dragons."

Visaera didn't know what terrified her more, Daeron's cold, calm demeanor as he prepared to end her life, or the fact that he was right. It didn't matter that she had claimed Carrion. It didn't matter that she suggested they burn the Hightower. Visaera was a lost, scared little girl and she never felt weaker than she did at that very moment.