"Yes, I'm alive. No thanks to you and your bastard brother." Her jaw clenched at his words but she didn't bother to reply. He pushed off from the wall and stepped toward the bed, eyes burning with fury.
"Wait, Daeron, listen to me... I—"
"You... You flew across the continent, attacked my home, and killed my dragon." he sneered.
"I didn't thin—"
"Didn't think I would defend the seat of my house; the people who live there?" he interjected, taking another step toward her.
"Your brothers killed Lucerys, I—" she attempted to defend, her mind still scrambled with the milk of the poppy. Staring at her with anger written across his face, he reminded her oddly of Aegon.
"You can defend it any way you'd like, princess. It doesn't change what you've done. Not only did you kill Tessarion, you let your fucking monstrosity eat her!" he snarled, closing the distance between them. Visaera scrambled backward across the bed, falling off the edge. "I was thrilled when I arrived and Mother told me you were being held here, but imagine my surprise when I learned my brother is still fucking you..."
"Stay away from me," she breathed, chest heaving as she realized the predicament she was in. "Aemond will—" Daeron laughed.
"Aemond will do nothing, Visaera. As he did nothing when you were locked in the cells for nearly a week. He did nothing when Grandfather instructed Lord Larys to poison your tea. He did nothing when you burnt the Hightower to the fucking ground!" he snarled. "Aemond is a man of words, but actions don't seem to be his strong suit." He stepped around the bed and Visaera found herself cornered like an animal. "My brothers may not be able to decide what to do with you, but it's an easy choice for me."
Beginning to panic, Visaera glanced around the room, desperately wishing she had something to defend herself with.
"Daeron, please..."
"Oh, now you're going to beg?" he taunted. The cold look on his face filled her with terror, so much that she forgot he was only a boy of sixteen. With a panicked squeak, she shoved off the floor and darted toward the door, yanking it open. Two steps into the corridor, Daeron gripped her by the hair and tugged her backward. Visaera landed on the floor with a heavy thud, her body barely registering the pain.
The entire corridor was empty, oddly so, and Visaera realized exactly what was going to happen to her. Struggling against him, she could feel chunks of her hair being torn from her scalp as he tightened his grip.
"Daeron, please," she begged as tears finally broke free and streamed down her face. "Please don't do this..."
"Mm, where was that sympathy when you burned hundreds of people, Visaera? Where was that sympathy when your dragon ripped Tessarion's wing from her body?" he hissed, gripping her arm and tugging her backward. "Don't worry, I'll let my idiot brothers have your body when I'm done. Perhaps, when you're finally a pile of ashes, they'll allow Mother to find them suitable matches."
As he reached around to grip her neck, Visaera ducked, feeling another section of her hair pull, and then bit him on the arm as hard as she could. Listening to him let out a groan of pain Visaera hoped she drew blood. As he released her, she stomped on his foot with all her strength before making a mad dash down the corridor and up the single level of stairs.
She rounded the corridor, finding it similarly deserted, and made for Aemond's quarters, desperately praying the small council meeting had ended. Making the mistake of glancing back, Visaera tripped over the hem of her dress and sprawled forward, skinning her knees and tearing her dress in the process.
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.
Daeron lunged at her, drawing his own blade, and Visaera was forced to use her burned hand to grip his wrist. Although the prince was the same size as she was, he was stronger and, after only a moment, she felt her grip weakening.
Not knowing what else she could possibly do, Visaera released his wrist and turned, relieved when his own force made him stumble forward. The dagger in his hand caught her arm, slicing it open. Remarkably, though, the princess found herself with the upper hand, positioned behind him. She gripped his silver hair with her left hand and shoved the knife to his throat.
"I'm impressed. Daemon clearly had an effect on you. I heard you were little more than a spoiled, selfish cunt—"
"Stop talking..." Visaera gritted out, pressing the blade closer to his skin. His laugh made her blood boil.
"Do you really think you can kill me, Visaera? You already tried once, didn't you?" Her hands were trembling and she clenched her jaw, wondering if he was right. Defending Jace in the moment had been an easy decision; sharing down at Daeron at the end of her blade was something entirely different. "You're shaking, little doe..." At his use of her nickname, Visaera snarled and wrenched his head back to look into his eyes. "You're not a dragon, Visaera... It's alright, we can't all be dragons..."
Still trembling, she let out a huff from her nose and removed the blade from his neck.
"Fuck..." she breathed, knowing he was right. Maybe she wasn't a dragon at all... When she released his head and shoved him away, Daeron let out another huff of laughter and pushed himself up off the floor. "I don't want to kill you, Daeron," she admitted, leaning back against the bed.
"I don't think you have a choice, Vis," he replied, a wide smirk spreading across his face. "Because one of us is not leaving this room." Visaera nearly sobbed, realizing that she no longer had any choice. She had to kill him or he would kill her.
"Don't look so distraught, love, I promise I'll make it quick." Visaera shook her head and backed away from him, hardly believing what was happening. It felt like she had been thrown head-first into one of her horrible nightmares.
"Daeron..." He shook his head and stepped toward her.
"Time is up, Visaera..." he replied softly. He darted forward and the princess scurried across the floor, trying to keep her distance from him, but when he sprang across the bed, catching hold of her dress, Visaera's knees hit the floor with aching force and she nearly dropped the blade.
Again, he fisted a large chunk of her hair and pulled her back against him. "I will give your best to my brothers," he hissed in her ear, "and you can give mine to Tessarion." In one smooth motion, he reached around her and brought the blade down toward her chest.
Unwilling to make it easy, Visaera struggled against him, and it was by sheer luck that she twisted to the left. Instead of plunging the dagger into the center of her chest, it sank into the left side, just below her collarbone, making her scream.
His blade now firmly embedded in her skin, Visaera gripped the handle of Aemond's dagger and twisted around, thrusting it into his neck. The pair shared reflective looks of sick surprise as the blade cut through his skin with as little effort as cutting cloth.
Visaera gasped for air and then choked out a sob as Daeron let out a sputtering cough, spraying blood from his mouth across her face. She tore her hand away, still gripping the hilt with white knuckles, and blood poured from his neck, soaking her hand and the floor beneath him.
Her uncle fell to his knees and Visaera didn't know what else to do but catch him in her arms and sink to the floor along with him.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, staring into his eyes, eyes that reminded her so much of Aegon's. Another gurgle choked from his bloody lips and she covered the wound in his neck with her shaking hand. Killing someone at close range was nothing like burning faceless people and Visaera could feel the pieces of her mind and heart breaking as she watched the light slowly fade from Daeron's eyes.
When his sputtering subsided and his chest stopped moving, Visaera let out a cry of disbelief and began to weep, horrified by what she had been forced to do. "Why?" she sobbed, pressing her trembling fingers to his face and closing his eyelids. "Why did you make me do it?" Her sobs became panicked gasps for air and the edges of her vision began to fade. All she could see was Daeron's bloody face; she would see it for the rest of her life...
When her surroundings began to spin, she sank back against the side of the bed, her uncle's body in her lap as she stared blankly across the room. Her trembling slowly eased and a chill crept into her bones, numbing her until she could feel nothing at all.
Visaera never heard the door open or the sharp intake of breath as Aemond took in the sight of her on the floor, clutching his brother and covered in blood. She never saw him cross the room and kneel in front of her. The princess never heard him whisper her name as he lifted her chin with his fingers.
Even when he tried to look her in the eyes, she remained in a daze, only seeing Daeron's face in her mind. Aemond sat on his knees and reached for his brother's body, pulling him from Visaera's arms. There was a sickening tearing sound as their blood-stuck clothing was pulled apart.
"Fuck... Fuck!" Aemond shouted. For once in his life, the prince had absolutely no idea what to do next. Visaera remained frozen in grief and horror, staring blankly at her blood-covered hands. "Vis? Visaera?"
Aemond's words were drowned out by the sound of Tessarion's cry echoing in her ears as the princess sank into the recesses of her own mind, Daeron's lifeless gaze burned into the back of her eyelids. She didn't blink, terrified of seeing the look on her uncle's face when she closed her eyes.
Visaera had forgotten she was bleeding, forgotten where she was, forgotten her own name. All she knew was that she had just killed someone and her fingers had grown cold and stiff. Her mind was growing hazy, like it always did when she had milk of the poppy, and her eyes fluttered closed as her vision faded and she drifted away...