"Ilībōños!" (Bastard!) Visenya screamed out as she launched herself at Daemon. He had just settled into Rhaena's chambers, aiming to check on his daughter after the violent incident he had caused an hour earlier.
Now, it seemed she was about to witness more turmoil.
Before Visenya's grasp could reach her father's throat, a pair of hands grabbed her and pulled her back firmly. Rhaena kept looking back and forth between Daemon and Visenya, unaware of what might have transpired between the hearing and now to provoke her half-sister's erratic behavior.
Daemon stood up from his chair and calmly approached Visenya, who was practically foaming at the mouth, her eyes wide with anger.
"Release her, Jace," Daemon sighed in annoyance.
Jacearys reluctantly let go of his sister, having performed this maneuver one too many times in his life.
The whole family was accustomed to Visenya's outbursts towards Daemon. He would do something she disagreed with, she would find out, and the whole castle on Dragonstone would hear their "discussions" about it.
But when Visenya started speaking in their mother tongue...
This was about to get interesting. Or very bad. No one was sure.
"Se nāpāstre's bartos iksin ñuhon." (The traitor's head was mine.) She spat through gritted teeth, annoyed with her father's nonchalant response to her threatening stance.
Daemon rolled his eyes and turned on his heel to sit back down.
"Emā olvie naejot gūrēñagon nūmāzma vīlībāzma, tala." (You have much to learn about war, daughter.) He spoke to her as usual, full of the patience he did not grant anyone else than his children. Visenya was always more irritated by this than grateful. She did not spend the better part of her life studying to be talked down to by a man who spent his twenties whoring and fighting useless battles.
As Visenya's lip started to twitch into a broken smile from frustration, Jacearys signaled to Rhaena that it was time to leave the two alone. Rhaena quietly followed Jace out of her own chambers, both reluctant to leave but understanding that not much could be done to help.
Visenya stepped away from the door, letting her siblings pass, the terrified look in Rhaena's eyes grounding the princess a bit, reminding her to maintain composure. In a more reasonable tone, she continued.
"Gaomagon ao gīmigon skorkydoso olvie jēda mazēdas syt nyke naejot mazverdagon se qrimbrōzagon?" (Do you know how long it took me to create that spell?) She asked genuinely, unsure if Daemon was truly blinded by his need for glory, or if he overshadowed her efforts on purpose.
Daemon looked at his nails, which seemed to interest him more than this particular conversation.
"Iā egros mirre tolī adere, ziry vestragon." (A sword works faster, it seems.)
Visenya wished she had a sword in that second to cut through Daemon with. Daemon chuckled at her trembling hands. Such a young soul, so much anger. He truly enjoyed pushing his daughter to the edge, if for nothing else than to prepare her for the world of snakes she was bound to enter. Visenya did not see it that way, of course.
"One does not reveal all of his tricks the moment you step in front of your enemy." Daemon switched to the common tongue, trying to ease the growing tension. "So if you choose to do so, you must be quick. What good would your spells have done if Vaemond had realized it was you who was making him die slowly, and on his last breath, he would have pulled out a dagger to take you with him?"
Visenya's mouth opened and closed trying to search for an answer. She had none. She averted her eyes from her father's gaze.
He was right. But she'd never admit it.
Daemon stood up once more and walked up to Visenya, putting his hand on her shoulder.
"You had your chance to prove yourself today, and it took too long."
Visenya nudged her shoulder to get Daemon's hand off of her. But he persisted and turned her back to face him.
"But you're young. You'll get better," he tried to reassure her, but all she heard was "it took too long."
As he passed her to leave Rhaena's room, he stopped by the door without turning around to face her.
"Just remember. The enemy does not give you the courtesy of waiting." The words hurt for Daemon to say. He'd never want to imagine any of his children having to face off their enemies. That was their father's job. Protecting this family, keeping them all safe. But at the same time, he knew that raising his sons and daughters to be sheltered would be a grave mistake, a mortal one, even, especially when he saw the potential that Visenya, Baela, and Jacearys had.
Visenya was left to stand in the middle of her sister's room. Her fingers fidgeted with her dress, the green hue now more a symbol of her failure than a mockery of the Queen or anyone else. All she wanted at that moment was to rip off that dress, summon Vermithor and fly back to Dragonstone. She wanted to scream and resurrect Vaemond just to show Daemon and everyone else that she could kill him herself. That she was a threat. She would protect her family.
But all she could do now is stand in that room.
"You had your chance. And you took too long."
Visenya grabbed the pitcher of wine that stood in every royal's room from Rhaena's table and walked out of her room. She knew Rhaena would not mind; both Baela and Rhaena had developed a love for Pentoshi wine and a terrible dislike for any "rubbish" made in King's Landing.
.
.
.
The sun had set a few hours prior, and the preparations for a family dinner had almost come to an end. The servants were scattered across the castle - the cooks putting finishing touches on their dishes, the musicians going over the melodies to play for the evening, the maids lighting candles while the others readied the royal family itself, bringing jewels to the princesses, brushing their hair, and helping each member get dressed.
"Visenya, we're waiting for you," a knock on the door.
And again.
And-
The door swung open. The princess, now dressed in a long, black velvet dress, looked more ready to attend a funeral than a family gathering. Though the silver bodice and headpiece that sparkled, reflecting the many lights around the castle, offered a sense of regal beauty instead of resembling a grim mourning outfit completely. Still, her face was nothing more than irritated, with a hint of drunkenness in her eyes that was no doubt just going to get worse.
"Don't you look festive, sister," Baela looked her up and down and grabbed her arm to tug her out of her room and maybe shake her out of her misery while she was at it.
Rhaena had chosen to don the colors of their father's house, wearing a burgundy dress. On each of the sleeves followed an intricate gold design resembling a dragon. Baela, as she had for the last four years, had chosen to embrace her mother's side, once more choosing a midnight blue gown, simpler than Rhaena's in design, other than being decorated with the Velaryon sigil - a tiny silver seahorse - placed at the middle of her dress neckline.
The three young women made their way through the halls towards the dining hall, where the rest of their family - and the greens - were almost done gathering.
After the announcement of betrothal between Jacearys and Baela and Rhaena and Lucearys, everyone besides Otto, Visenya, and Aemond had been sat with their partners. The newly betrothed couples, the queen and the king, Daemon and Rhaenyra, Helaena and Aegon, all sat next to each other.
As Visenya approached the table to take her seat, her seating became yet another matter of annoyance.
She was to be seated at the end of the table, facing Aemond. If that was not bad enough, Daemon was sitting on her right. The only consolation seemed to be Baela, who was seated on the left side of the table next to Visenya.
The princess took her seat quickly, offering a reassuring smile to her mother, which was not as kind as she tried to pass it off.
Daemon had informed Rhaenyra of the plan Visenya had blamed her father for ruining. She watched her daughter carefully, still conflicted whether she was proud of her for trying to protect her family, scared of her for intending to kill her relative, or intrigued by just how much Visenya had learned about magic that she hadn't shared with her family.
Either way, although in a bad mood, Visenya seemed fine, and the albeit forced smile convinced Rhaenyra to return her attention to the man of the night - her father. Viserys reached for his daughter's hand, pressing it ever so gently in reassurance.
"This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young princes... and their betrothed." The king began the first of many toasts of the night, smiling while raising his cup to Jacaerys and Lucearys.
"Hear, hear!" Daemon echoed his brother's toast, smiling to Baela.
Visenya raised her cup as well, a genuine smile this time. She loved her siblings deeply. And she knew how much they loved each other. They were great pairings, and Jacaerys and Baela would be great rulers one day. She dramatically raised her cup as high as she could, bowing her head to both of the couples and clinking glasses with Baela. As she took a sip of her drink, her eyes mindlessly wandered through the table, meeting Aemond's gaze by surprise.
He was looking at her rather intensely, as if she had thrown something at him or insulted him. Visenya did not look away; rather, she sank into her chair more deeply, drinking her wine while waiting for the weird battle of stares to end. End in her victory, of course.
A good 10 seconds had passed of the pair looking at each other silently before their match was broken by Aegon's rise from his seat. Aemond's view was blocked by his brother's back, and Visenya chuckled in her stupid victory as she could finally stop exchanging looks with her troubled uncle. She took a sip of her wine and started following Aegon's steps instead. He was approaching her side of the table, and Visenya prayed to whatever gods there are that he would not try to talk with her. Gods knew she was too drunk to hold back any comments tonight.
Aegon stopped in between Jacearys and Baela. "Well done, Jace. You'll finally get to lie with a woman."
Visenya gripped her cup tightly.
"You do know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle?" he smirked as he looked Baela up and down. Baela and Visenya locked eyes, both of them having the same desire to knock Aegon flat on his ass.
But where Baela had self-control, Visenya had none.
"Are you... Offering to teach your nephew how to fuck, uncle?" Visenya circled her finger around the brim of her cup. Aegon's smile faded as Visenya addressed him. "Rather forward of you; had you wanted him for yourself, you should have said something before their betrothal." She giggled to herself as most of the table turned to hear what she said.
Aegon clenched his fists as he tried to find a comeback, but could not. He picked up a pitcher of wine from their side of the table and went back to his seat in defeat.
Visenya's mood was starting to lighten. Two birds with one stone; this dinner might be fun after all.
Baela had laughed at the implications their sister made; however, Jacearys seemed just as annoyed as Aegon. As he stood up to pour another cup of wine for Visenya, he whispered into her ear.
"I do not need your help. I had the situation under control."
Visenya laughed loudly.
"I am sure you did, I just wanted to put the cunt back into his place." she answered in between hiccups.
"Gods, are you drunk?" Turned to look at her, his brows furrowed. His stern look made her straighten up in her chair, although only a year her senior, Jacearys never missed a chance to remind her he was her older brother, and he acted like one.
"Only with happiness for my brothers betrothals, dear brother." She took his hand into both of her palms theatrically.
Jacearys exchanged looks with Daemon and went back to his seat. Daemon took a plate of food and put it in front of Visenya.
"Eat." he whispered as his eyes tried to examine just how drunk Visenya had become.
Just before she could answer Daemon, Helaena stood up from her seat with cup in hand.
"I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena." she smiled, but her eyes locked with Visenya, rather than the subjects of her speech. "They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad." Helaena stopped for a moment, and Visenya nodded in encouragement. "Mostly he just ignores you... except sometimes when he's drunk."
Aegon hid the embarrassment on his face by covering his eyes with his hands. Genuine laughter filled the room, even Otto Hightower raised his cup in support of his granddaughters toast.
Visenya applauded her aunts bravery, pleasantly surprised by her speaking up. As she was about to speak, Jacearys stood up and approached Helaena, extending his hand in asking her for a dance. Visenya smirked at the utter defeat in Aegons face. An annoying prick he was, ever since she could remember. As she watched her brother and aunt laugh as they circled the room dancing, a hand extended towards her, once again pulling her out of her peace. It seemed as though she could not feel happy for even a second.
"May I ask for this dance?" as she looked up to who the hand belonged, she almost chocked on the piece of meat in her throat.
Aemond had been looking at her just as intensely as he had a few moments prior from across the hall.
I would rather choke. Piss off. I'm not drunk enough. Those were all of the perfectly honest answers she wished to say to this joke of a prince. But as she looked to her mother and saw the wishful looks she and the queen were exchanging, waiting for Visenya's answer, she sighed as she took one more sip of the wine.
"It would be my pleasure."