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"Why do you let him manhandle you so?" Y/N asked her older sister the jewel encrusted handle of the brush biting into her paled flesh. "He makes me ill." Y/N muttered, smoothing her sister's silver locks in admiration. In the shadow of her sister Y/N always felt like a wilting flower next to a diamond. Though she would never realise how lucky she was to be saved from the heavy handed touches her brother dished out on a regular basis. Sighing Daenerys shuttered both from the caring presence of her sibling and the memory of Viserys' earlier visit. "I just want to go home" Daenerys whispered tears filling her now dull and lifeless orbs. "We will go home sister... together be it now or in many moons time." Y/N reassured hugging her sister tightly. Even at just 14 the youngest Targaryen was aware of the constant feeling of walking on eggshells. "I promise!"
