Visenya followed her brothers and cousins, Rhaena and Baela angrily storming through the moonlit halls. 

The girls were furious - their mind set with the belief someone had 'stolen' their mother's dragon - Visenya found fault in the thinking. A dragon was not a slave - they were not something that would pass to you upon death of the previous rider -  they were not some belonging you laid claim to. Though she could hardly say as such to the twins - the two girls still grieving their departed mother. Someone claimed their mother's dragon before even a day had passed since her funeral was tactless.

Finally, they made it down to the hall that led to the beach - lit with a faint light of torches upon the wall - and someone was standing before them. 

"It's him." Baela sneers, the rage and fury in her voice holding a heat of a burning hearth. 

"It's me."

Aemond. 

Of course.

It should not come as a surprise that the boy would look to stake his claim as soon as possible - he had been trying to do so for months in the Dragon Pit - yet still, to not even wait a night after the funeral. 

"Vhagar is my mother's dragon." Baela said angrily.

"Your mother is dead." Aemond replies bluntly, without remorse for his words. Visenya bites her tongue against the instinct to retort - it was not her place to step in yet.

"And Vhagar has a new rider now." 

"She was mine to claim." Rhaena exclaimed.

"Then you should've claimed her!" Aemond retorts, a bitter smile pulling at his cheeks - a glint in his eye - as he regards Visenya and her brothers. "Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you."

It was not hard to see he had still been bitter about the prank - Visenya knew it was probably one of the many reasons he had for venturing out to claim the old War dragon. 

Before more words can be said, Rhaena marches forward, growling and lunging at Aemond. But, the boy easily pushes her to the floor. Visenya's eyes widen when Baela - acting in defense of her sister - lands a punch to the boy's cheek. Aemond grunts - a nasty sneer pulling at his lips - and swings back heavily at the girl. 

"Aemond!" Visenya tries to stop him, but he doesn't listen to her. 

"Come at me again and I'll feed you to my dragon!" Aemond spits the words.

Visenya glares at the boy. Jace, having the instinct to protect his cousins, also lunges at Aemond, throwing a fist at him. Aemond blocks it and the two go back and forth. Until Aemond kicks at the boy's knee, making Jace fall.

And then, Luke gets involved. Visenya feels a headache coming on at this point. Sweet, little Luke shrieks as he tries to throw himself at Aemond. Aemond just lands a solid punch to Luke's nose and Visenya can hear the bones crunching under his hand. Luke's cry of pain tearing its way into her chest. 

That's when she's had enough. It is her job to protect her siblings - and she has spent too much time standing back at this point. She goes forward, and Aemond sees her coming. He tries to swing at her, but she dodges. He throws more fists, to which she evades, ducking and weaving under the flying fists. She can see him growing more irritated, and smirks internally. She catches one of his fists, twisting the limb. Aemond groans at the pressure on his joints - feeling the grinding and cracking of the joint as it is pushed to its limit in the socket. 

One of the lessons Ser Harwin first taught her was to never be cocky.

Arrogance gets you killed. 

A shame she did not remember such now. 

She hardly notices the hand he brings up to her hair. He grabs a fistful of the strands, tugging harshly. Visenya yelps at the pain that ignites in her scalp - sharp and painful. And then, he roughly throws her head into the stone walls around them. Her skull vibrates off the wall - a deep and sharp ache settling in her head. Sounds and pictures grow hazy - her head swims like it did the first time she had rode Cannibal. Only this time, it was not a feeling she enjoyed. 

The vague sounds of shouting penetrate her ears - making her head ache more, and her stomach lurch. 

The hand buried within her hair yanks painfully back - shoving her head forward again until she once again connects with the stone wall. She grunts - legs collapsing beneath her when she is finally released and she lands within a heap upon the dirt. 

Se can hardly feel the ground beneath her - her vision blurry - the vague sounds of scuffling, shouting, dripping. 

Droplets of red liquid land before her eyes - staining the sand which she lays upon. Visenya reaches a shaky hand to her temple - numbly feeling the jagged ridges of a wound that was not there before - her fingers coming back stained with blood. 

Visenya groans - her stomach lurching and head swimming. Her head falls limp - like the rest of her - to the ground below as she tries - and fails - to regain her bearings. 

Aemond fights off the other four as they rush at him. Visenya tries to get back up, but her head swims as she lifts it. She groans, fighting the urge to bring her dinner back up. Through blurry vision, she sees Aemond choking Luke. Her breathing stutters when she sees Aemond holding a large rock above the boys head.

No, no, no, no. 

"You will die screaming in flames just as your father did!" Aemond spits out, the words tearing themselves from his throat with a venom so poisonous. "Bastards."

Visenya feels anger overflowing her at the words - a burning anger that almost numbed the pain pulsing from her temple. 

"My father's still alive." Luke sobs, unaware of the meaning behind the words.

"He doesn't know, does he..." Aemond drops his arm holding the rock, "Lord Strong?"

The distinct ring of unsheathing of a knife catches her attention - beady eyes and blurry vision locking onto the glint of a blade resting in Jace's clenched fist. 

"Jace-" She tries to stop him - tries to get her tongue to move with the words, to loosen the cotton feel of it. 

Jace holds the knife in front of him. Baela also yells at him, but he ignores her - his anger too bright and mind set. He swipes the knife at Aemond, who evades it.

Swallowing her pain - and the feeling to gag- Visenya heaves herself up, holding onto the wall for support as her head swims. She sees Aemond once again, holding up the rock with Jace on the floor, knife lost.

Grunting, she throws herself at him. The two wrestle, fighting for control. But, in her weakened state, Visenya was no match. Aemond's hand latches onto her throat, squeezing mercilessly and she feels another blow to her head, making her knees buckle. She chokes, as the lack of air makes her lungs constrict and feel as if they are about to burst. Her head explodes with pain, and her hands desperately claw at his, trying to get him to release her.

This cannot be how she dies. 

When black spots litter her vision, does she feel scared. After all that training, all those hours with a sword, she is helpless.

Her grip begins to slacken - her vision so overcome with darkness, body starved of strength she no longer has the will to fight it. She feels herself begin to sink, and sink, and sink...

The hold - that unforgiving grip upon her throat that squeezed without mercy - disappears allowing her lungs the air they desperately need. She coughs and chokes, heaving in as much air as she can. Her chest aches and burns - chest heaving up and down, gasping in air like a drowned man. 

Voices - deep and baritoned in their nature - echo in her ears, muffled and quiet compared to the pulsing and pounding of her skull. 

She can barely feel the hands on her, trying to help her up. Either way, she was helpless to the flopping of her limbs - refusing to cooperate and function as they should -  as someone picks her up to her feet. She stumbles, barely getting her footing. Her stomach lurches - her vision swims - and bile rises up her throat. 

She bends over, coughing and heaving as the disgusting taste is left in her mouth. She doesn't even apologise for whoever's boots she just vomited on. Her head hurts, and the blood feels sticky on her skin. Her throat burns, whether it was from Aemond choking her or from the dinner she just brought back up, she doesn't know.

Calloused palms gather her hair back - in an effort to prevent it from being ruined much further by the vomit that drips from her lips. Black dots litter her vision - her head swimming and vision blurry. Her eyes close without her permission - and her ears deaf to the voices that call out to her. 

The last thing she feels is being lifted into someon's arms - sleek and smoothing metal digging into her skin. 

And her eyes fall shut. 

....

Rhaenyra and Daemon rush through the halls of High Tide - a desperation and urgency like no other guiding Rhaenyra's legs. The news of a small fight breaking out between the children was nothing new - they were young and emotional, it was expected - news that blood had been drawn and that the children were injured had her heart in her throat - stomach in knots. 

Pushing through the doors to the hall, her eyes dart trying to gain sight of her children.

"Jace? Visenya?"

She sees two head of dark hair crowded by a chair, a maester knelt by them.

"Luke!" She pushes her way to the boys. Luke was holding a hand to his nose, Jace's arm around his shoulders. Both boys had blood on their faces. Her panic doubles when she sees who was sat in the chair. Blood stained her silver hair, running down her face and staining her tunic that she wore.

"Visenya!" Rhaenyra exclaims. 

Her daughter groans - small and quiet, and so unlike her -  at her loud words. Rhaenyra's eyes dart instantly to the wound on the side of her head that the maester was examining. It was deep, and the man was stitching it closed, practised hands moving with precision. The girl's throat was also red, the beginnings of a bruise blotting the skin. Her eyelids flutter, but they clench shut against the light assaulting them.  She was pale - paler than what could be considered normal, even for them - and Rhaenyra didn't miss the distinct smell of vomit. 

Rhaenyra crouches in front of her, taking the rough hands into her own. Visenya weakly squeezes - a contrast from her girls usual strong and firm grip, so sure of itself. 

"Visenya?" Her words were quiet - tone soft and low - worried gaze searching for those violet eyes she adored. 

They were riddled with pain - Visenya's gaze holding a sheen that told Rhaenyra she was barely even there. There was a momentous pause - a pause where Rhaenyra could have sworn her heart stopped  - Visenya's eyes staring into her face with a blank look, as if she could not see who was in front of her. 

"Mother." The young girl whimpers, quiet and pained. 

Rhaenyra bites her lip against the stinging in her eyes - a fire so dangerous and violent igniting in her chest for the pain her eldest was in. 

"Who did this?" She asks - tone sharp and demanding. Still clinging to Visenya's limp hands as her gaze raked around the room. 

"They attacked me!" Aemond exclaims, turning to show his face. A wicked wound, stitched closed, ran over his eye. It looked painful - red and raw with stitches pulling tightly against the torn skin. 

"He attacked Baela!"

"He broke Luke's nose!"

"He tried to kill Visenya!"

The children's voices overlap each other. Rhaenyra sees Visenya wince at all the noise, and can clearly make out the unshed tears in the girls eyes. Anger and worry fill her, as she does her best to comfort her daughter. Little can be done for this type of wound. A tonic would make her too drowsy and it is prudent that she stays awake, lest there is damage that they do not know about. She would take her to her chambers, with the curtains drawn and candles snuffed out, but they would most likely be stuck here until this proceeding was at an end.

Frowning heavily, Rhaenyra rubs soothingly over Visenya's knuckles. Visenya tries to open her eyes, but recoils at the light. She gags, bending over and vomiting into a basin that had been brought beside her. Rhaenyra gathers the girl's hair, holding away from her face as she chokes up bile.

"Mother..." It was weak, barely like how Visenya usually talks. Always so stead-fast, clear and stern. This weak, frail and quiet tone was not her daughter - her daughter was brash and loud, confident in herself. 

"It's alright, sweet girl." Rhaenyra smoothes her hair, "It's alright."

"Silence!" 

The room falls quiet at the King's command. Visenya groans quietly at the loud noise, but no other sound is heard.

Jace, worriedly looking over at his sister, leans down to their mother's ear. "He called us bastards."

Rhaenyra's face hardens. She nods to Visenya, and Jace takes over holding the girl's hair back as she dry heaves a few times. Luke, scared tears in his eyes, holds tightly to Visenya's hand, the girl weakly squeezing back. Rhaenyra stands up, in front of her children. She knows of the whispers they speak about her and her children. Tonight, it will all be out in the open. Nobody can stop that from happening.

"Aemond..." Viserys hobbles over to his son, the boy looking resolutely at his father. "I will have the truth of what happened. Now."

"What else is there to hear?" Alicent pipes up. "Your son has been maimed. Her son is responsible."

'So it was Luke or Jace who did it.' Visenya thinks. Her head pounds, and she wants nothing more than to go back to bed. She should have stayed there. But, she would have hated herself if she had let Luke and Jace get hurt and she wasn't there to protect them. 

Yet, even when she was there they still got hurt. Because she was arrogant, weak and a fool.

"It was a regrettable accident." Rhaenyra says. Even Visenya, in her hazy state, knows her mother's words were wrong to say. It was not an accident, Aemond was close to killing her. Yet, that detail seems lost.

"Accident?" Alicent says, incredulously. "The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush. He meant to kill my son."

"Aemond tried to kill me." Visenya frowns, murmuring the words. Only her brothers and a few other heard her.

"It was my children who were attacked and forced to defend themselves. Princess Visenya has hand marks on her neck! Vile insults were levied against them." Rhaenyra says angrily, her volume raising. Her sons and daughter had been marked, and she will not sit idly.

"What insults? And, hand marks?" Viserys asks.

Rhaenyra looks stead fast at her father, ignoring the looks from others in the room. "The legitimacy of my sons' and daughters birth was put loudly to question."

"What?" Viserys frowns.

"He called us bastards." Jace says, standing beside his sister.

Luke nods, "He was going to kill Visenya. He was choking her! And he bashed her head with a rock!"

The girl in question, minutely giggles manically. Gods, this night was a mess.  Her head hurt, and she could feel the stitches pull with each move of her head. She had nothing left to throw up, but her stomach still twisted visciously - her vision blurry and making her head burst with pain each time light invaded her senses. 

A pause takes over the hall, the boys' words registering in everyone's head. Princes' had been called illegitimate and a Princess had nearly been killed. 

"My children are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace." Rhaenyra speaks up again. "This is the highest of treasons. Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders."

Visenya can feel the haziness slowly diminish from her being. Her head still pounded, and a drowsiness lingered but she was more aware of the tension around them. She slowly looked up, squinting at the harsh lights that made her stomach churn. Her hand holds more tightly to Luke's and she lightly, but firmly, grabs Jace's arm. She had to make sure they were protected, she could not afford to be weak.

"Over an insult? My son has lost an eye." Alicent speaks up, leaving out the fact that she was just told her son tried to bash in Visenya's head.

"You tell me, boy." Viserys looks down at Aemond. "Where did you hear this lie?"

"The insult was training-yard bluster." Alicent tries to reason. "The lot of boys. It was nothing."

"Aemond..." Viserys ignores her. "I asked you a question."

Aemond wearily looks up at the King, his gaze slightly fearful.

"Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder?" Alicent desperately tries to redirect. "The children's father. Perhaps he might have something to say in the matter."

Visenya doubted Laenor would be found right now. He was grieving his sister. And she knew the man had a few too many cups earlier evening.

"Yes." It seems The Queen's attempt worked, as the King turned to the new matter. "Where is Ser Laenor?"

Visenya can blearily see her mother's panic before it disappears. 

"I do not know, Your Grace." Rhaenyra blankly answers, but she stammers over the next few words. "I... could not find sleep. I had gone out to walk."

If Visenya sees Daemon smirking in the corner through her blurry vision, she does not comment on it. Her head hurts too much to focus on much else other than her brothers and mother. 

"Entertaining his young squires, I would venture."

Visenya scowls at the woman's words. Her father's sister is dead, it was her funeral earlier. The complete lack of respect - the audacity to accuse the Lord of Driftmark's very own son was incredulous - And to say it in a room full of Lords and Ladies...any other person would have had their tongue removed. But, no, the Green Queen seems to be able to spout all she want, when the King is being so blissfully blind of the rising tension.

If Visenya also sees her mother's anguished look at the Queen, she does not comment on it. She knows the two used to be... close. How close, she did not know. But, she could make an assumption from the way her mother would send look to the auburn haired woman from time to time. As if she was looking at a different person from what Visenya knew. Maybe that girl was someone Visenya could have come to like, even respect. But, the Queen she knows today has earned none of that from her.

"Aemond..." Viserys speaks again. "Look at me."

Aemond's gaze slowly travels up, meeting Viserys' eyes. 

"Your king demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?"

Aemond's eye briefly darts over to the Queen. The woman tenses, looking across to the Crown Princess, who stood protectively in front of her own children. The Princess' boys were anxiously looking around them, the young Jacaerys with his arm around his younger brothers and his hand clutching that of his sister's. Yet, it was Princess Visenya's whose gaze caught her off guard. Bleary eyes, caked in drowsiness and pain, glared heatedly at her. The blood that had dried on Visenya's face, made her look all too entirely like Rhaenyra when she returned to the hunting party, covered in blood from her kill. It made Alicent's heart pang with grief. That seemed like so long ago now, when they were merely children forced into their positions by the ambitions of their fathers.

Alicent knew why Visenya looked at her that way. The Princess, despite her young age, was not as naive as some would think. Alicent saw that Visenya understood all the poison that surrounded the Red Keep, in the form of Lords and Ladies. She knew of the whispers, and just who had the power to spread them.

Viserys follows his son's gaze to his wife. Yet, Aemond's next words direct attention to another.

"It was Aegon."

The boy in question looks up in surprise and slight hurt. "Me?"

Viserys, deciding he had all he needed from the boy, hobbled over to his eldest son. "And you, boy..." He stands directly in front of Aegon's face. But, the boy refuses to look at him, keeping his gaze locked in front of him. "Where did you hear such calumnies?"

Aegon was silent.

Viserys, either tired or enraged, grew impatient. "Aegon! Tell me the truth of it!"

Aegon flinched at the scream. Visenya almost felt bad for him.

"We know, Father. Everyone knows. Just look at them."

Visenya grows more angered at the words, and it slightly numbs the pain in her head. She scowls and glares at anyone looking their way. 

She clutched tighter to her brothers, and pulling them closer to her - as if she had the power to hide them from the stares that flickered their way. 

To many, the sight of the girl, dried blood caked and running down the side of her face, a look that could send you to the Stranger himself in seconds. No doubt, lesser men would surely fill their breeches at the sight of it. Visenya Targaryen, like her name sake, was not something to be trifled with. Docile and steady when calm. Volatile and dangerous when angered. There was no doubt amongst them, that if Aemond had not caused such an incapacitating head wound, there would have been more damaged tonight.

Visenya can feel the gazes prickling at her skin. Yet, anyone's eyes she meets, they quickly look away from the girl's scorching gaze. 

"This interminable infighting must cease!" Viserys' raises his voice, looking around at all of his kin. "All of you! We are family!"

Family.

What a word.

Visenya would not use it to describe what they were. What they were, was a division. Two sides, engaged in a silent war. Each was waiting, for what will come when the King will inevitably pass. Whether it will be a true war, or if one side will concede. That was not a family.

"Now make your apologies and show good will to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!"

'You fool!' Visenya hisses in her thoughts. Blood has been spilt. People have been maimed and almost killed. Apologies and goodwill will not repay what has been done, nor will it stop what is to come. 

Fire roars in her chest - so hot and raging she thought even her own skin could burn from the heat of it. How she wishes she could end this all now. If her grandsire is too blind to see how dangerous the Hightowers have become, she would have dealt with them herself. Now, with Aemond gaining Vhagar, the odds have changed. The balance has shifted, not by much but still enough to be noted. To be used to gain advantage.

Breathing heavily, finished with his words, Viserys hobbles away, no doubt on his way back to bed. 

"That is insufficient."

Alicent's words bring a new tension to the room. Everybody knew, this would not go easily. No matter how much Viserys screamed, it did not mean he would get his way. King or not.

"Aemond has been damaged permanently, my King." She continues. "'Good will' cannot make him whole."

"I know, Alicent." Viserys sighs heavily. "But I cannot restore his eye."

"No, because it's been taken." Alicent nods.

"What would you have me do?" Viserys asks, eyes widening in exasperation.

"There is a debt to be paid."

Visenya feels cold dread overtaking her. She does not like those words.

"I shall have one of her son's eyes in return."

Visenya stands straighter, ignoring the spinning of her vision. No. No that would not happen.

Murmurs break out at the Queen's words, incredulous that she would ask of such a thing.

Luke flinches, and Visenya holds him tighter. She would not let that happen.

"My dear wife..."

"He is your son, Viserys." Alicent cries, "Your blood."

"Do not... allow your temper to guide your judgement." Viserys says lowly. As he goes to walk away again, Alicent speaks up.

"If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will."

Visenya tenses, watching for a single movement from anyone.

"Ser Criston... bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon."

"Mother!" Luke cries. Fear in his voice as he hears the words.

Visenya holds him behind her, letting him crush her hand in his grasp. She stands tense, hand lightly fingering the concealed dagger in her belt. Though she may be injured, she will not allow more harm to come to her brothers.

"He can choose which eye to keep, a privilage he did not grant my son." Alicent continues.

"Need I remind, Your Grace." Visenya's voice was croaky, and her throat hurt as she said the words. Yet, she did her best to project them loudly across the hall. "That your son almost killed me. He bashed my head with a rock, and squeezed the air from my lungs. Had it not been for my brother, I have no doubt this would be an entirely different discussion. And another funeral would need be prepared."

"Your brother's intervention cost my son an eye." Alicent hisses at the girl.

Visenya merely shrugs, "As said, it was a.... regrettable accident. If not, he would have been labelled a kinslayer. And, well..." Her lips twitch with the need to smirk, but she holds it. "'Cursed be the kinslayer'."

"A debt is still to be payed." Alicent insisted. "I will have retribution."

"You will do no such thing." Rhaenyra looked over at the guard, someone she had once thought of as a friend. 

Daemon, mean while, was laughing to himself at his daughter's words. Rhaenyra was right. The girl was a spitfire, and fiercely loyal.

"Stay your hand." Viserys orders.

"No, you are sworn to me!" Alicent cries, yet her face is dry of tears now, only anger remained.

All eyes are on Ser Criston, waiting for him to be the loyal lap dog that he is. Yet, he merely bows his head.

"As your protector, my Queen."

Visenya almost laughs. This may be the first time he has denied obeying Alicent. Her small giggles must have been heard, because Jace glances at her in confusion and worry. She shrugs, smothering her smile. Maybe that hit was a bit too hard to her head - can feel it from the way her head pounds in time with her pulse. 

Alicent stares blankly at the knight, her orders disobeyed.

"Alicent," Viserys speaks again. "This matter... is finished. Do you understand?"

The Queen says no words. She stares back defiantly at Viserys, but he does not comment on it. He turns around to the court, addressing the Lords and Ladies.

"And let it be known: anyone whose tongue dares to question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra's children.. should have it removed." He glared over at Alicent at the end of his sentence.

Visenya scoffed quietly. It was a good threat, but she had no doubt that her grandsire would ever follow through with the threat, or else he would have to remove the tongue of his wife and her sons.

"Thank you, Father." Rhaenyra says softly.

She turns around, crouching by her children. She looks in worry at Visenya, swaying wobbly even in her seat with a hand holding tightly to Luke's. She can see her daughter swallowing back the pain that the effort of even lifting her head brings her. The way Visenya is fighting to stay awake - to keep her gaze on the room of potential dangers, holding her brothers like she could protect them - as if she even had the strength to stand on her own right now. 

"Visenya-" Rhaenyra sighs.

The sharp sound of a blade being drawn catches attention, marching footsteps and shouts arise.

"Mother!-" Visenya's eyes look alarmed behind Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra, acting quickly, spins back around, catching the arm holding the blade as it comes swinging down and stopping it in its tracks. Her other hand comes to hold the Queen by her shoulder, pushing her back.

Luke screams at the sight of the blade. Visenya winces, pulling him closer to her, grabbing Jace as well. Her body lurches on instinct - trying desperately to pull herself to her feet, even with the way her body sways and head pounds harder.  She places the two boys behind her, and her hand grips to the handle of her hidden blade. She keeps her gaze on the brawl in front of her. It darts to those around it, looking for anyone else who would try to rush her and her brothers. 

She sees Ser Criston coming forward, and tenses. She may not be able to defeat the knight, but she may be able to inflict some damage. It would be her revenge for Ser Harwin, she would use what he taught her like she promised to.

But, it was all for naught. Her uncle Daemon came walking over, and stops the knight in his tracks. Holding him there until two other King's Guard's can come and apprehend Ser Criston.

"You've gone too far." Rhaenyra's voice is heard. There is heart break in it, concealed greatly, but there nevertheless.

"I?" The Queen questions, tears in her voice. "What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law... while you flaunt yours to do as you please."

"Alicent, let her go!"

Viserys goes ignored as the Green Queen continues.

"Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It's trampled under your pretty foot again."

"Release the blade, Alicent." Otto speaks. 

Yet, the Queen even ignores her father.

"And now you take my son's eye, and to even that, you feel entitled."

"Exhausting, wasn't it?" Visenya's mother grounds out, "Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness." Her next words are whispers, "But now they see you as you are."

Visenya sees the anger on the Queen's face. The pure rage at the words, no matter how true they were. She eyes the blade that comes swinging down as the two women push apart. The tearing of cloth can barely be heard.

Rhaenyra falls back to the arms of Lord Corlys. She looks incredulously at Alicent, and the dripping of blood and the feeling of something wet running down her arm catches her attention.

Looking down, it is as plain as a raven against a clear sky. There, on Rhaenyra's forearm, was a wound stretching downward the fragile skin. Blood drips from her fingers down to the floor.

Visenya's breath stills. Harming the Crown Prince or Princess is punishable by death. And the Queen has done just that, but... everyone present knows that no action will be taken. Viserys, for all he will be remembered by, was a weak king. Too undecided in his decisions without the honeyed words of his poisonous council. Too weary to shed a drop of blood, even if his own daughter had been harmed, even if his son had lost an eye, even if his grand daughter was almost killed. Viserys, the great council's choice, was never truly fit to wear the crown.

Visenya hears the blade clatter to the floor, dropping from Alicent's grasp as she realises what she had done. 

Visenya holds tightly to her brothers, moving over to stand beside her mother. 

"Do not mourn me, mother." Aemond stands up, looking to his mother. "It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye... but I gained a dragon."

At those last words, he smirks over at Visenya. As if he had won some great victory over her, as if he had her defeated now.

If only he knew, what she herself had achieved. Claiming one of the most feared dragon's in the realm. A dragon many tried before her to claim, and barely few succeeded. Whatever battle had silently waged between them, she thought herself the victor. Though gigantic and great, Vhagar was an old dragon, a few decades off coming to the age that Balerion himself was. She would not be as fast and as swift when the war between Black and Green begun. 

"This proceeding is at an end." Viserys declares.

Visenya looks distastefully as her grandsire hobbles away. Of course. She had known he would not take action against what has happened. Yet, seeing it just confirmed her thoughts that yes, he is a fool.

Luke and Jace release their hold on Visenya, and clutch to their mother. Visenya grunts. All the adrenaline she had been running on has finally depleted her and the pounding in her head has increased tenfold. Her knees wobbled, but a hand was there to steady her.

Glancing up, she meets the gaze of eyes that match her own. Daemon's arm holds her steadily, and his gaze has something hidden in it as he looks at her. What, she cannot hope to discover for the drowsiness threatens to make her collapse. He has a smirk on his lips, and a twinkle in his eyes.

Pride.

He is looking at her with pride.

A new feeling arises in her. It catches her off-guard and bewildered. Laenor has never looked at her like that. He would laugh at her mischief and her refusal of not being trained with a sword. He would look at her with love - a comforting hand reaching to touch her skin that she backed away from. But, when she tells stories of her 'big battles' in training, he would either be too drunk or tired to really comprehend what she was telling him. He would do his best, but he has never said he was proud of her. 

Has never looked at her like that. 

Eventually, she stopped telling him. She understood, Laenor carried a pain that lingered beneath the skin, and his way of coping was drowning in his cups and his squires. She never faulted him for it, and enjoyed the moments when he joined them throughout the day. She made do with what she was given.

With Daemon keeping her up, they stand beside her mother. Visenya grabbed onto her mother's arm, the uninjured one, as a way to keep herself up and make sure the woman was okay. Daemon's hand glided over Rhaenyra's wound, his temper rising. He sees his daughter - Visenya -  have a similar look upon her face, but more subdued due to the drowsiness her injury brings.

The court has now been divided. On oneside, stands the Black's, collecting behind their future Queen and her kin, hands on pommels of swords. On the other side, stands the Green's and their supporters.

There would be two sides in this war. And only one left standing.

...

After the ordeal in the hall, Rhaenyra and her children were taken to her bed chambers, to be properly treated by a maester. Rhaenyra insisted the children be seen to first. As such, Jace's cuts were looked over, Luke's nose was reset and given cloth to staunch the blood, and Visenya had her head injury properly seen to. The maester assured that it was nothing to fear, but to be weary of the Princess falling asleep too soon, for she may vomit in her sleep and choke on it. He also prescribed that she only drink and eat broth for a time, to help her throat heal where it had been gripped tightly.

The bruises on her neck had now fully formed, black, blue and purple overtaking the skin. The blood had finally been washed from her face, and another black bruise stretched over her temple from the wound that reached from her hairline and just coming short of her brow.

Only after, was Rhaenyra finally happy to be treated. The maester worked diligently to stitch her wound closed, taking care to clean the wound and the skin around it. Rhaenyra groaned and winced as he slid the needle and thread through the skin. Her sleeve had been cut away, allowing the wound to be seen in full.

"you will scar," The maester says, "but the wound will heal. Valyrian steel cuts clean."

Visenya kept her sharp gaze on the maester as he worked. She had finally been allowed a slight pain relief, after her head injury was determined to be fine. She refused anything that would make her drowsy, however, despite the fact she had been up for all of the night, bar the few hours she had before Jace, Luke, Rhaena and Baela had dragged her to confront Aemond.

As such, she was given willow bark to chew on. It was tough and hard, but it did bring her relief.

The doors open, and Ser Laenor finally shows his face since he was last seen. His hair was undone and he was in the same clothes. He looked slightly panicked and worried as he gazed at his wife and the children, all having some form of either blood or injury dotting their skin.

"Gods." The man says. "Is everyone all right?"

"A bashed head and bruised throat is the worst." The maester informs.

"Thank you, Maester." Rhaenyra says, dismissing the man after he wraps her arm. "Leave us."

The Maester nods, and makes haste of his exit, leaving the family alone.

Rhaenyra looks over to her children, all injured and tired. Visenya refuses to relax, body forever tense and rigid. Jace is slouching from where he stands, and Luke is looking fearfully around him, as if the Queen will appear again with a blade in her hand to take his eye.

"you as well." Visenya's gaze snaps to her mother's, her protests dying on her tongue at the look the older woman was giving her. "You've already found enough trouble today."

Jace, Luke and Visenya bow their heads.

"Yes, mother."

The children stand up, Visenya's head swimming momentarily. She breathes sharply, clenching her eyes shut against the nausea. After a moment, she opens them again and places her hands on Jace and Luke's shoulders, guiding them out of the room. 

The boys wait for her - whether it was for their comfort, or just to make sure their sister did not collapse on the way to the rooms. Still, they kept in pace with the scuffing of Visenya's feet - even pausing when needed to. 

She takes them back to their rooms, but they do not sleep. All three of them sit on the same bed, crowded together and clinging to one another.

They sit in silence, only Luke's heavy breathing heard as he can only breathe through his mouth now.

"Is the Queen going to take my eye?"

At the small words, said so full of fear and tearfully, Visenya holds them tighter. She swallows the throbbing in her throat. Blinks past the drowsiness in her head.

"No." She says, firmly. "No one is going to touch you. Not ever again. Not whilst I'm here."

Luke blinks up at his sister, head tucked against her chest. "You swear?" 

Jace also looks at her. He doesn't say anything, but his gaze is words enough. The same question lingers on his tongue as he waits for her next words.

"I swear it."

In a few years, Visenya will look back on this moment and these words she spoke, and be filled with nothing but anguish, regret and grief. For despite her oath, her vow to always protect them. Despite everything, she had failed. 

She had broken her oath. 

She had failed her brothers. 

That would be the one mistake she could never atone.

....

Authors Note

I lied. There will be one more chapter, and then we will be done with Driftmark.

After this would be the six years on Dragonstone. Some of you may already know spoilers for what I have planned for Visenya :)

Hope you enjoyed.

This was not proof read!

That's it for now.

Later's, Alligators.