—— " those eggs... belonged to our ancestors. and now they belong to our sister " ——
༺ ♔ ༻
——— SHOUTING AND YELLING echoed through the quarters some hours after Rosaline was confided to her room. She didn't understand what was happening outside, just that it was men yelling at each other. One of them... sounded familiar.
Even Sigrid began whining.
"I must speak to Lady Rosaline and her sisters!"
"You are not permitted to speak to them, under Lord Stark's orders!"
"That is why I must speak with them! It is about Lord Stark! There was a fight! Just outside Lord Baelish's brothel! He's been severely injured—!"
Rosaline pushed open her chambers door without a second thought, only to find Adrian talking to a guard stationed outside of her room.
Adrian placed his eyes on Rosaline, a worried look over him while an even more worried one was on her. Sigrid walked up next to her as Rosaline asked, "What has happened?"
"I do not know all the details, my lady," said Adrian as she stepped out of her chambers. "There was a fight between your father, his men and Jaime Lannister and his men-at-arms. Your father was the only survivor..."
"Only survivor?" questioned Rosaline as she and Adrian walked through the quarters together, her father's guards watching them. "Do you mean...?"
"I'm sorry, my lady..." Adrian softly said as they stopped in the middle of the living area. He stared at her sympathetically as her brows furrowed in great grief.
Jory Cassel was dead, killed in the fight.
Her tear stung eyes met his blue ones before saying, "Take me to my father..."
"My lady... it wasn't a pretty sight—"
"I said take me to him," Rosaline sternly said and Adrian fell silent before he nodded. She then glanced back at her father's guards and said, "Stay here with my sisters..." They nodded before Rosaline shot her direwolf a hard look. "Stay here with Arya and Sansa, Sigrid..."
The wolf stayed put as Rosaline and Adrian rushed out of the quarters. And Rosaline didn't say a thing as she quickly followed Adrian through the Red Keep, her thoughts only of her father.
Adrian was right. It wasn't a pretty sight.
Her father was unconscious in a medical bed, blood dripping down his leg. He had a bandage wrapped around his thigh, covering up his wound. He looked so weak, and vulnerable. It was hard to look at him.
When Rosaline arrived there with Adrian, the medics inside quickly glanced over at her and stepped away so the girl could walk into the room. But she was frozen, staring at her father.
She felt tears develop in her eyes as she shook her head.
"How could this happen?" she asked as she slowly made her way to his bedside. "How did this happen? What... happened? Who did this to him?"
"My lady..."
"I want answers," Rosaline sternly said, placing her eyes on Adrian. She had such a fierce fire in them, such devotion and protection for her family. That could make her strong or be her downfall.
Adrian stared at her a moment before nodding for the medics to leave the room. And they did.
Once alone, Adrian closed the door of the room before glancing back at the girl. He looked as though he had as many questions as she did, but had enough information to answer some of them.
"I do not know why..." he began as he slowly approached her. "But Jaime Lannister and his men attacked your father and his men outside of Lord Baelish's brothel. I'm not important to know these things, just to hear things and do what I'm told. Jaime Lannister and his men killed the guards, including Captain Jory Cassel. And then one of Jaime Lannister's men pierced a spear into your father's leg so he could not move or escape."
Rosaline gazed at him with such shock, her lips quivering with horror. She wished she never came here with her father. She wished none of them did. Why would Jaime Lannister attack the Starks? She was starting to understand why her father and brother hated them so much.
"I'll kill him," she murmured.
"No," said Adrian as he stepped closer. "Don't say that."
"If they want to hurt my family..."
"Hey, hey," he quietly said as he cupped her face, gazing into her eyes, and finding nothing but anger and sadness. "You don't know who is listening... don't say those things..."
"I'll hurt all of them for hurting my father... I will..." but she started crying as she spoke. She tried to stop herself, not wanting to cry in front of Adrian, but it seemed it only made her cry more.
Adrian gazed down at her sympathetically before pulling her closer to him, holding her comfortingly as she continued to cry. It was heated tears of anger, of hurt, of fear — but mostly anger. If they wanted war, she would bring them a war.
༻✦༺
THE NEXT MORNING, Rosaline quietly sat next to her unconscious father in his chambers, watching him intently. Waiting for him to wake, which should be any moment.
Just minutes before he did wake, the door of the room-office opened to King Robert and Queen Cersei.
Rosaline gasped upon seeing them before she quickly stood, and bowed to them. "Your Graces..." she murmured, nervously glancing up at them.
Queen Cersei didn't even spare her a look. Her attention was only on her father. King Robert sent the girl a kind smile before gesturing her to sit back down.
As soon as she did, her father began to move. She quickly turned to him, finding he was cringing to himself, his eyes slowly opening.
"Father?" she questioned and he looked at her.
"Rosie?" he asked and she nodded, sending him a relieved smile. He smiled back, only to drop it when he spotted King Robert and Queen Cersei in the room with them.
"Your pardon, your Grace," he said. "I would rise, but..." He attempted to rise from his bed, but struggled from his injury.
"Do you know what your wife has done?" asked Queen Cersei and Rosaline glanced over at her, quickly confused.
She furrowed her brows, about to speak up when her father said, "She did nothing I did not command."
Though he seemed nervous to speak at all with Rosaline in the room. He clearly didn't want to talk about whatever happened with her in the room.
"Who'd have thought she had it in her?" asked King Robert, sounding slightly impressed.
"Done what?" Rosaline wanted to ask, but continued to stare at the three adults confused.
"By what right dare you lay hands on my blood?" asked Queen Cersei.
"I am the King's Hand—"
"You were the King's Hand—!"
"...trying to keep the peace—"
"You shall now be held accountable—!"
"Oh, will both of you shut your mouths?!" shouted King Robert and Rosaline held a breath as both his wife and his friend fell silent. Queen Cersei continued to glare at Ned as King Robert continued, "Catelyn will release Tyrion—"
Rosaline's eyes widened in shock. Her mother had Lord Tyrion Lannister held prisoner?! Why?!
"...and you'll make your peace with Jaime."
"He butchered my men!" argued Ned.
Queen Cersei smirked before she maliciously said, "Lord Stark was returning drunk from a brothel when his men attacked Jaime."
Rosaline stared at her shocked that she would so easily tell such a lie, so easily spread her father's name into the mud. And for what?
"Quiet, woman!" King Robert snapped.
"Jaime has fled the city," said Ned. "Give me leave to bring him back to justice."
There was tense silence between them all and Rosaline wished she would be excused out from the conversation. But her wish wasn't demanded.
"I took your for a King!" Queen Cersei angrily said as she stared at her husband bitterly.
"Hold your tongue..." King Robert threateningly said.
"He's attacked my brother and abducted the other," Queen Cersei sternly said. "I should wear the armor, and you the gown."
From that, King Robert slowly turned to Queen Cersei before he abruptly— Rosaline stared in shock when he slapped her across the face, leaving a huge bruise over her cheek.
She really wished she wasn't in the room anymore.
Queen Cersei slowly looked at her husband, glaring at him defiantly. "I shall wear this like a badge of honor," she said.
"Wear it in silence or I'll honor you again," King Robert told her as Rosaline pursed her lips awkwardly staring at the married couple.
The Queen glared at both men before she promptly left the room, slamming the door shut as she went, causing Rosaline to gasp. The fifteen year old felt like she couldn't move, she was so overly shocked over what she just witnessed, she didn't know what she was supposed to do. Her father had never, not once, hit her mother. She knew The King and Queen were in an unhappy marriage, but that... was something else entirely.
"See what she does to me? My loving wife..." King Robert sarcastically said as he poured himself a glass of wine. Rosaline fiddled with her fingers as he sat down on the edge of her father's bed, suddenly looking... ashamed of himself. "I should not have hit her. That was not... that was not kingly."
Rosaline glanced at him a moment before Ned said, "If we don't act... there will be a war."
"So tell your wife to return that little shit of an Imp to King's Landing. She's had her fun, now put an end to it," said King Robert, but Ned was silent. As was Rosaline. "You hear me? Send a raven and put an end to it."
"And what about Jaime Lannister?" asked Ned but King Robert didn't respond. "What about Jaime?"
"I'm half a kingdom in debt to his bloody father. I don't know what happened between you and those yellow-haired shits; I don't want to know. This is what matters — I can't rule the kingdoms if the Starks and the Lannisters are at each other's throats, so enough!" snapped King Robert. He then took a drink of his wine as Ned sighed.
"As you command your Grace," he said. "With your leave, I will return to Winterfell and set matters straight."
"Piss on that!" shouted King Robert. "Send a raven. I want you to stay. I'm the king. I get what I want."
Rosaline frowned, suddenly feeling like a prisoner in her own king's home. She wanted to go to her own home...
"I never loved my brothers..." King Robert bitterly said and Rosaline glanced her eyes onto him again. "A sad thing for a man to admit, but it's true. You were the brother I chose. We'll talk when I return from the hunt."
As King Robert began to leave the room, he tossed the Hand of the King's badge onto the bed next to Ned. Rosaline and Ned both stared at the badge oddly before their attention was back on the King.
"The hunt?" Ned questioned as King Robert glanced back at him.
"Killing things clears my head. You'll have to sit on the throne while I'm away," he said before he chuckled. "You'll hate it more than I do..."
"The Targaryen girl—?"
"Seven Hells!" shouted King Robert as he opened the chamber door. "Don't start with her again!" He glanced at the clearly nervous Rosaline before placing his eyes back on her father. "I'll hear no more of it. Put on the badge. And if you ever take it off again, I swear to the Mother, I'll pin the damn thing on Jaime Lannister."
He then stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him.
With him gone, Rosaline quickly turned to her father again, a worried look with so many questions. "Father... what is going on?" she asked as he looked at her. "Why does mother have Lord Tyrion prisoner? What aren't you telling me?"
"Rosie..."
"How did Sigrid end up in King's Landing? What happened back home that she protected mother and Bran from?" she asked, her brows furrowing. "What is happening—?"
"Someone tried to kill your brother..." Ned quietly said and Rosaline stared at him stunned. "An assassin... mere hours after we left... your mother was hurt trying to protect Bran... and Sigrid attacked the man, killing him."
Horror filled her brown eyes, blinking madly to stop the tears from filling up. "That explains the blood," she murmured and Ned nodded.
"The weapon on him... was a dagger... which we have figured out was Lord Tyrion's," Ned continued. "I did not tell your mother to do anything... she made the plans all on your own..."
"You're protecting her," Rosaline murmured and Ned nodded. "That's why Jaime Lannister and his men attacked you..." he nodded again. "But how did Sigrid..." Though from the long look in his eyes, Rosaline realized it herself. "Mother... she came to King's Landing, didn't she?" Ned nodded again.
"And brought Sigrid with her," he said and Rosaline shakily breathed, pursing her lips.
"You were right... this is a dangerous place..." she murmured.
"There's more," he added and Rosaline stared at him, wanting to know. "But I can't tell you... it would only put you in danger... more than you already are for knowing the information I already told you..."
She wanted to argue but she knew he had a point. She knew it was dangerous, everything was dangerous now. Perhaps... she would have to take her brother's advice.
At her archery lesson later that day, Rosaline stood in the training yards with a sour look over her. She gripped hold of her bow, blinking several times, frowning to herself when she heard footsteps approaching. She glanced up to find Adrian walking towards her, a small bin in his arms. She didn't even have enough energy to ask him what it was.
He set the bin nearby before placing his eyes on the sadden Rosaline Stark. His brows furrowed, his head tilting as she said, "I don't want to practice today."
"No?" he asked and she shook her head.
"Jory is dead. My father is hurt," she muttered. "I suddenly don't care about shooting arrows at a still target."
"I know you are troubled," he said before he reached into the bin and picked up an apple as she stared at him oddly. "But now is the perfect time to train..." He threw the apple into the air before catching it when it fell back down.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"I saw the look in your eyes," he said, gradually moving closer to her. "You wanted revenge. You wanted justice. You wanted war. You wanted... to kill."
Rosaline narrowed her eyes at him before he said, "You're ready."
"I'm what?" she asked. "But yesterday—"
"Yesterday... you never had experience of wanting to kill. You never wanted revenge. You never wanted justice. But now... you do. That fire is still in your eyes..." he told her.
"Are you really using my father's injury and his men's slaughter to push me to be ready?" she asked.
"I'm not pushing you to do anything," he said. "This fire has always been there, my lady. It just had to be brought out. And horribly... this was how it did."
He then threw the apple into the air, watching her as it fell to the ground. And once it hit the ground, the both of them stared at it before looking back at each other.
"You were supposed to shoot that," he said.
"How was I supposed to know?" she asked before she pulled an arrow into her bowstring.
Adrian grinned before he picked up the apple and threw it into the air again. Rosaline pointed her arrow at the apple, carefully eyeing it down before releasing the arrow.
The apple hit the ground again as the arrow pierced into a nearby tree. She sighed frustrated as Adrian gazed at her in admiration.
"You're distracted," he said.
"Of course I'm distracted!" she snapped. "The Queen's brother hurt my father... slaughtered men I've known my whole life! My family is in danger and there's absolutely nothing I can do!"
Another apple was thrown into the air.
Missed again.
"You can't be distracted," he said. "If you are distracted when the fighting comes... that will only end with you dead."
Rosaline stared at him a moment, knowing he was right.
He tossed another apple and as it fell to the ground, Rosaline focused on the apple, breathing heavily as she cleared her mind. And her attention was solely on the arrow.
She felt the wind in the air, the arrow between her fingers, and she just... let go.
The arrow pierced into the tree, but no apple hit the ground.
Rosaline grinned to herself and Adrian smiled at her. He then walked up to her, causing her to turn to him. And straightened up when he placed his hands on her shoulders.
"When death comes knocking on your door... you say... Not today," he said and Rosaline blinked, nodding. "I need you to understand this, and take this with you. Because if something were to ever happen to you... well..." He gazed into her eyes as she stared nervously. "I'd want my own justice... for you..."
As they stared into each other's eyes, Rosaline had an awful realization. She was starting to care for a knight of King's Landing... that was, right now, her family's sworn enemies.
༺ ♔ ༻
——— ACROSS THE NARROW SEA, Daeron stood inside a large communal tent at Vaes Dothraki. He, along with Ser Jorah and Viserys watched Daenerys sit in the middle of the room. Surrounded by the members of the khalasar. Eating a raw horse heart.
It was ritual every Khaleesi took to foretell the omens of their unborn child. Daeron thought it very odd, but if it were real, at least he'd have a small glimpse of what his nephew will be like.
Although, Daenerys seemed to be having trouble eating it all down.
"She has to eat the whole heart?" asked Viserys. "I hope that wasn't my horse..."
"She's doing well," said Ser Jorah.
"She'll never keep it down," said Viserys.
"You have very little faith in our sister," said Daeron.
"Obviously," muttered Viserys. "She's far too weak for such strong things."
Daeron rolled his eyes as the khalasar's chants grew louder, as did the Crone's. He watched as his sister was nearly finished eating the horse heart, while staring intently at Khal Drogo. She was clearly very determined to finish eating the heart.
From across the room, Daeron spotted Doreah looking his way. Staring at him. Not his brother, him. He lightly smiled at her, and she began to smile back when he was turned away from her when Viserys said, "Tell me what she's saying."
"The Prince is riding," said Ser Jorah as the Crone continued to chant. "I have heard the thunder of the hooves. Swift as the wind he rides. His enemies will cower before him... and their wives will weep tears of blood."
Daenerys got down to the last bite of the horse heart.
"She's going to have a boy," said Ser Jorah.
"He won't be a real Targaryen," Viserys bitterly said and Daeron looked at him. "He won't be a true dragon."
Daeron rolled his eyes again before placing his eyes back on his sister just as she ate the last bit of horse heart. Though she looked as though she was going to vomit it all up.
Suddenly, she collapsed, gagging and the room fell silent.
Daeron stared at her in anticipation, as did the rest of the khalasar. She made several noises under her breath, as if she would throw it all up. But... she slowly got to her feet and gulped down the last bit of the heart.
Daeron grinned as the crone said, "Vezh fin saja rhaesheseres!"
"The Stallion Who Mounts the World," said Daeron. "The Stallion is the Khal of Khals. He shall unite the people into a single khalasar. All the people of the world will be his herd."
Daenerys then stood up and loudly shouted in Dothraki, "A prince rides inside me! And he shall be called Rhaego!"
Daeron grinned to himself as the entire room began to chant the name... Rhaego.
Little Rhaego Targaryen.
Daeron was beaming in excitement to meet his nephew. In only a few more months would he be able to.
As the chanting continued, and Khal Drogo walked up to Daenerys to hug her, Viserys glanced around the room in almost... jealousy.
"They love her..." he murmured and Daeron looked at him. He furrowed his brows at him, finding the insulted look on him.
"You should be happy they do," he said and Viserys looked at him. He didn't seem like he understood why he should be.
Khal Drogo was carrying Daenerys around the room when Daeron looked back at them. The room continued to chant happily when Ser Jorah said, "She truly is a queen today."
Though when he and Daeron looked to Viserys, they found him missing. Daeron glanced around confused before his eyes lingered out of the tent they were in, and found his brother's figure walking away in the distance.
Following after his brother, Daeron found Viserys in their sister's tent. He stood there, arms crossed, watching in silence as Viserys opened the chest containing the three dragon eggs. And then he began to place the eggs into his bag, before tying up the bag.
When he turned around to leave, he stopped in his tracks when he finally saw Daeron. A dull, annoyed, unimpressed look over the 15-year-old.
"They don't belong to you," said Daeron after a very long staring moment between the two brothers.
"Whatever is hers is also mine," said Viserys.
"No," said Daeron and Viserys's expression dropped into anger. "Not anymore."
Viserys glared at his brother heavily before he said, "If I sell one egg, I'll have enough to buy a ship. Two eggs — a ship and an army."
"Yet you took all three," said Daeron.
"I need a large army," Viserys enviously said. "I'm the last hope of a dynasty, little brother. The greatest dynasty this world has ever seen, on my shoulders since I was five years old, and no one has ever given me what they gave to her in that tent. Never. Not a piece of it. How can I carry what I need to carry without it? Hm? Who can rule without wealth, or fear, or love?"
Daeron remained impassive as Viserys approached him, glaring him down even more. But Daeron stayed completely still, never flinching once.
"Oh, you stand there, all nobility and honor," he mocked. "You... the brother... who killed my mother in childbirth... my mother who only ever fell pregnant because our father rap—"
"Stop... talking..." Daeron sternly muttered.
"You think you'd make a better King than me? Hm? You think you're better than me? Hm?" he asked.
Daeron remained impassive, unaffected by his brother's taunting.
"I am King, not you. I am in charge of our sister, not you," Viserys sternly said. "You best stay out of my way before you wake the dragon."
"You know... you always threaten that... when you feel threatened," Daeron told him.
Viserys stared at him a moment before saying, "Let me go."
"No," Daeron muttered as Viserys tried to leave the tent, but Daeron moved in his way. Viserys sighed annoyed before looking at his brother again. "Those eggs... belonged to our ancestors. And now they belong to our sister. So... you can go. But you can't have the eggs."
"You're my brother!" Viserys snapped. "Does family and loyalty mean nothing to you?"
Daeron was quiet until he finally said, "It means everything."
"Yet, here you still stand," Viserys spat.
"Yet... here I still stand," said Daeron.
Daeron and Viserys stared at each other down for a long while, like they were fighting for dominance. Until finally, Viserys threw the bag to the ground before strolling past his brother angrily out of the tent.
Daeron let out a breath he was holding in once he was alone. He then grabbed the bag off the ground, carefully placed the eggs back into the chest and locked it up.
༺ ♔ ༻
——— THAT EVENING IN KING'S LANDING, Rosaline sat in her family's dining area with Sansa and Septa Mordane as they sewed some embroidery. Just as they used to in Winterfell.
Rosaline thought it would help Sansa feel more relaxed as she did at home. And it did for a while, until Sansa made it clear how miserable she really was.
The redhead had her hair done in a more south hairstyle with the classic crown braid with parts of her down, twisted around in a ropey twist. While Rosaline had kept her hair in the northern style; half-up with braided details while the rest of her hair was softly curled.
Rosaline thought Sansa looked like a redheaded Queen Cersei.
While Sansa thought Rosaline looked like their mother.
"I like your hair," said Rosaline and Sansa looked up at her.
"You wear your hair like a real Southern lady now," Septa Mordane admirably said.
"Well, why shouldn't I?" asked Sansa. "We're in the south."
"It's important to remember where you come from," said Septa Mordane, gesturing to Rosaline's northern hairstyle. "I'm not sure your mother would like these new styles."
"My mother isn't from the North..." Sansa muttered and Rosaline glanced at her from Septa, a glint of annoyance in her eyes.
"I'm aware of that," said Septa Mordane.
"Why do you care?" asked Sansa. "Do you ever have hair under there?"
"Yes, I have hair," said Septa Mordane.
"I've never seen it," said Sansa.
"Would you like to?" asked Septa Mordane.
"No," said Sansa before going back to sewing. Rosaline stared at her a moment, thinking the conversation was over, until Sansa asked, "Where are you from anyway, the North or the South?"
"I come from a very small village in—"
"Oh, wait. I just realized," Sansa dully interrupted. "I don't care."
Rosaline straightened up, shooting her sister a look.
"Sansa..." Septa Mordane muttered.
"Septa," Sansa muttered back.
"Sansa, stop it," Rosaline intervened. "Now you're just being rude."
Sansa stared at her a moment, a moment of small guilt until they heard footsteps come into the room. They all glanced back to find— Prince Joffrey strolling in.
Rosaline stopped herself from rolling her eyes as she stood from her spot, along with Sansa and Septa Mordane.
"My prince!" Septa Mordane cheered as she, Rosaline, and Sansa all curtsied.
"Your Highness..." Rosaline kindly said before Septa Mordane sat back in her seat. But Rosaline stayed standing, watching the boy a year older than her intently as he approached her sister, a good-natured smile on his face.
"My prince," Sansa nervously said.
"My lady," Prince Joffrey grinned before he bowed before her.
Rosaline rose her brows surprised. An improvement. But not enough.
"I fear I have behaved monstrously the past few weeks," said Prince Joffrey.
That's an understatement, Rosaline thought.
The Prince then held up a necklace with a lion engraved on it.
"With your permission?" he asked.
Sansa turned around as her acceptance and he does so. She smiled brightly as he locked the pendant together.
Once he did, she took the necklace between her fingers and stared at it in admiration. "It's beautiful," she said as she glanced back at Prince Joffrey. "Like the one your mother wears."
"You'll be Queen one day. It's only fitting that you should look the part," said Prince Joffrey as Rosaline's narrowed gaze stayed on him. Him and his golden hair and his evil green eyes. "Will you forgive me for my rudeness?"
"There's nothing to forgive," said Sansa and Rosaline shot her a look, not that she could see her sister, her eyes trapped on the Prince. It had seemed that Sansa had completely forgotten what Rosaline told her back in Winterfell about who to love and who to not.
"You're my lady. One day we'll be married in the throne room," said Prince Joffrey as Sansa smiled at him lovingly. "Lords and ladies from all over the Seven Kingdoms will come, from the Last Hearth in the North, to the Salt Shore of the South. And you will be Queen over all of them."
As Rosaline continued to observe them, Septa Mordane looked away awkwardly. Rosaline felt awkward as well but she wanted to seem stern at the same time.
"I'll never disrespect you again. I'll never be cruel to you again," Prince Joffrey continued. "Do you understand me?"
He lovingly touched her face and Rosaline felt like she might vomit out of sheer disgust.
"You're my lady now. From this day, until my last day," said Prince Joffrey just before he leaned down and...
Rosaline looked away as the two kissed. But as they did, Rosaline thought of someone else. Someone she knew she couldn't ever be openly with, not like Sansa and Prince Joffrey. A noblewoman like herself could never be with a knight, like Ser Adrian Sloane. He didn't come from a noble family like hers. Yet... she still thought of him... more than she should.
When night fell over the Red Keep, the Stark girls were sat in their father's quarters, per his orders. And when he walked in, holding himself up with a cane, the girls tensed up, staring at him worried. More so Rosaline, than her sisters.
She cautiously watched him as he walked up in front of the girls, staring at them heavily before saying, "I'm sending you back to Winterfell."
All three girls stared in shock.
"What?!" shouted Sansa.
"Listen..."
"What about Joffrey?" asked Sansa.
"Are you dying because of your leg? Is that why you're sending us home?" asked Arya.
"What?" asked Ned. "No!"
"Please, Father. Please don't!" Sansa pleaded.
"You can't," said Arya. "I've got my lessons with Syrio. I'm finally getting good!"
"And I don't want to leave Adria..." She faltered her words, suddenly feeling a blush cover her face. "I don't want to miss my lessons with Ser Sloane."
"This isn't a punishment," Ned told them. "I want you back in Winterfell for your own safety."
"Can't we take Syrio back with us?" asked Arya.
"Who cares about your stupid dancing teacher?!" snapped Sansa before placing her eyes back on her father. "I can't go! I'm supposed to marry Prince Joffrey! I love him and I'm meant to be his Queen and have his babies!"
Rosaline rolled her eyes as Arya murmured, "Seven hells..."
"When you're old enough, I'll make you a match with someone who's worthy of you, someone who's brave and gentle and strong—"
"I don't want someone brave and gentle and strong. I want him!" shouted Sansa.
Rosaline sighed exasperated as Arya giggled.
"He'll be the greatest King that ever was," continued Sansa, and both her sisters almost laughed loudly. "A golden lion, and I'll give him sons with beautiful blonde hair!"
Rosaline's amusement dropped when her sister said that. Beautiful blonde hair. It only took her sister saying that for Rosaline to realize... King Robert has black hair and blue eyes. And all his children have gold hair and green eyes. Just like Queen Cersei... and her brothers.
No, Rosaline thought. That's not possible. That's too far impossible. You're thinking crazily.
"The lion's not his sigil, idiot," said Arya, which pulled Rosaline from her thoughts. She glanced over at her father, only to freeze when she saw the same thinking expression on him. "He's a stag, like his father."
"He is not," Sansa sternly said. "He's nothing like that old drunk king!"
"Hush, Sansa," Rosaline spoke up. "You don't know who's listening."
"I don't care!" shouted Sansa.
"Enough, girls," said Ned and they all looked at him. "Get your septa and start packing your things."
"Wait!" said Sansa as Ned began to slowly make his way to his desk.
"Come on!" said Arya before she grabbed her hand and began to drag her out of the room.
"But it's not fair!" Sansa shouted.
The two shuffled out of the room, but Rosaline stayed in her spot. She gazed at the open door for her to leave, but she didn't. She got up and closed the door before glancing back at her father. He didn't seemed upset that she stayed behind. Just wished she went with her sisters.
"Father..." Rosaline murmured as she approached his desk. She stood before him as he opened up a very ancient book with golden linings. "What is going on?"
Ned didn't say a thing. He just turned to page in the book with the name HOUSE BARATHEON at the top of the page.
Rosaline stared at him confused, wanting him to assure her that her wild thoughts were just that. Wild thoughts. But he began reading off the page, "Lord Orys Baratheon, black of hair. Axel Baratheon, black of hair. Lyonel Baratheon, black of hair. Steffon Baratheon, black of hair. Robert Baratheon, black of hair. Joffrey Baratheon..." He gazed up at his daughter with a shocked look over him that scared her. "...golden haired."
She didn't want to believe what she was hearing. Or that her assumptions were right. Prince Joffrey and his siblings... weren't King Robert's heirs. But Jaime Lannister's bastards.
༺ ♔ ༻
——— ACROSS THE NARROW SEA, a celebration took place in a large hut to celebrate the forthcoming birth of Khal Drogo and Daenerys Targaryen's child. A pig roasted over a central fire as drums played with people dancing everywhere. The khalasar members all carried on, enjoying themselves while Khal Drogo, Daenerys, Ser Jorah, and Daeron were seated on a place of honor; with them were Irri, Doreah, and the bloodriders.
The men sat just near the women, admiring the fun everyone had. But Daeron and Ser Jorah sat with the women, laughing and chatting with each other.
As they did, Daeron was admiring Doreah, who grinned at all the dancing khalasar. Not even the woman dancing before him, peeked his interest. Just his sister's handmaiden.
That is until — abruptly — Viserys stumbled into the tent, and evidently was drunk.
"Daenerys!" he shouted and Daeron looked up at him, along with Daenerys, Doreah, and Ser Jorah. "Where's my sister?"
Daeron felt Doreah tense, so wrapped his arm through hers, gripping her hand throughly. He had a stern look on him, staring at his brother as Doreah gazed down at their hands.
"Stop him," Daenerys whispered to Ser Jorah, and he quickly got to his feet and approached the drunk King.
"Where is she?" asked Viserys, his voice high-pitched. He was stumbling around, talking to various other members of the khalasar, a deranged-looking smile on his face. "Where is she? I'm here for the feast. The whore's feast?"
Daeron shook his head as Ser Jorah tried to help Viserys, but he forcefully pushed him away. "Get your hands off me! No one touches the Dragon!" he spat.
Khal Drogo and his bloodrider talked amongst themselves before laughing, grabbing the King's attention. He turned back, and grinned when he spotted Drogo.
"Khal Drogo! I'm here for the feast," he said.
"Nevaki vekha ha maan," said Khal Drogo and Daeron almost chuckled in amusement.
Viserys stood confused and glanced back at Ser Jorah, who said, "Khal Drogo says there is a place for you. Back there." He pointed to the other side of the hut where the old women and children were located.
Viserys looked back at Khal Drogo, an insulted look on him as he shook his head. "That is no place for a king," said Viserys.
"You are no king," said Khal Drogo and Daeron's amusement dropped.
Viserys abruptly drew his sword and Ser Jorah moved forward to stop him, but he turned around and pointed the sword at him. "Keep away from me!" he shouted as Daeron clenched his jaw.
The music, and everything just stopped as several Dothraki angrily hissed at Viserys.
Finally, Daeron stood and shouted, "Brother, enough!"
Viserys spun around to face his brother, and when he did, he finally saw Daenerys as well. The girl slowly stood as Viserys had a rather malicious grin over him.
"There she is..." he said.
He then turned his sword on her and Daeron glared at him.
"Put the sword down," said Ser Jorah as Viserys approached his siblings. "They'll kill us all!"
"They can't kill us!" shouted Viserys, chuckling insanely. "They can't shed blood in their sacred city."
Daeron eyed his brother heavily, placing an overprotective arm over Doreah when Viserys got closer. An insane smile on him.
"But I can," he continued.
"Brother..." Daeron muttered in a threatening tone. "You are drunk... you need to get out... and calm yourself down before you do something reckless..."
"Shut up!" Viserys squealed before he pressed his sword against Daenerys's womb. Daeron glared at him even more as Viserys glanced over at Khal Drogo. He grinned maliciously before looking back at Daenerys. "I want what I came for. I want the crown he promised me. He bought you... but he never paid for you."
As Irri translated to Khal Drogo, Viserys continued, "Tell him I want what was bargained for or I'm taking you back. He can keep the baby. I'll cut it out and leave it for him."
Daenerys stared Viserys down defiantly as Daeron glared at him hatefully.
"Anha vaz maan rek me zala. Anha vazhak maan firikhnharen hoshhora. Ma mahrazhi aqovi affin mori atihi mae," said Khal Drogo.
Daeron attempted to hide his smirk, but it was so hard to cover his amusement. Viserys noticed it, and instantly eyed him down.
"What did he say?" he asked but Daeron remained silent, which only made Viserys more angry. "What did he—!"
"He says yes," Daenerys suddenly said. "You shall have a golden crown, that men shall tremble to behold."
Daeron almost chuckled.
Viserys made tense eye contact with Khal Drogo, who remained impassive. He appeared somewhat surprised.
"That was all I wanted," said Viserys, looking back at his siblings. "W-What was promised."
He pulled his sword away from Daenerys, putting it away before he smiled down at his brother and sister.
That was the saddest thing. The way he smiled.
Khal Drogo approached Daenerys before placing a protective hand to her stomach as Doreah continued to stay near Daeron, clutching onto his hand in nerves.
Viserys looked at the horselord expectantly just before chaos struck.
Within seconds, the bloodriders seized Viserys by his arms, and he yelled out. One of them broke his right arm to keep him still, but his screams in pain made Daeron flinch. Just a bit.
Daeron hated his brother, but he still remembered a time, some of his first memories... when he loved him.
That had all washed away now.
Viserys was becoming mad... just like their father.
As the bloodriders dragged Viserys to the nearby cooking fire, he screamed, "No! You cannot touch me! I am the Dragon! I am the Dragon! I want my crown!"
Viserys struggled against them both, but to no avail. They forced him to his knees beside the fire as Khal Drogo wandered over to a woman, and whispered something to her. She then walked over to the fire and dumped the food contents out of the pot before Khal Drogo threw a handful of gold jewelry into the pot.
Viserys frantically looked from Khal Drogo to his siblings, who observed expressionlessly as Ser Jorah walked up to them.
"Look away, Khalessi..." he said.
"No," said Daenerys.
As the gold in the pot melted, Daeron turned to Doreah, shooting her a tense look into her brown eyes. If she wanted to look away, she could. Viserys wouldn't be able to hurt her... never again.
He glanced back to his brother just as realization hit Viserys's eyes of what was happening. "No," he murmured. "Dany. Dany, tell them! Make them! Dany, make them!"
Khal Drogo took the pot of melted gold before he walked before Viserys. "No, you can't, just— please!" Viserys pleaded before finally looking at Daeron. "DAERON!"
Daeron stared silently as Doreah stuffed her face into his shoulder, holding him close, not wanting to see what happened next. Though, Daeron hated how pleased he felt to see Viserys's terrified face.
"A crown for a king," said Khal Drogo.
Daeron thought he would flinch when it happened. Thought he would look away. But he never did, staring right at his brother as Khal Drogo poured the melted gold over Viserys's skull.
His screams of anguish filled Daeron's ears, as the scalding liquid burned and solidified on his brother. It was within seconds that the screaming stopped, and he stopped moving altogether.
He was dead before he even hit the ground.
Dareon watched, light tears filling his eyes. Not because he was sad, but relieved. He would never have to endure his brother's abuse or torment again.
"Khalessi...?" asked Ser Jorah, nervously looking over the other Targaryens. "My Prince?"
"He was no dragon," Daenerys calmly said, staring at her brother's dead body emotionlessly. "Fire cannot kill... a dragon..." She then took her only living brother's hand, tightened her grip, and without looking at him, said, "We're the real dragons, Daeron..."