Daena examined herself in the mirror. She did like her wedding dress. The gown was a magnificent, regal affair of red and black silk and lace, with a high collar that framed her face, and low cut neckline which made her look much older than thirteen. Her hair had been scraped up into a braided style that looked like two horns rising from her head, and decorated with rubies and black pearls. She was tall for her age anyway, but her shoes had high heels; now she would be a reasonable height for Viserys.

It would be a lie to say she didn't enjoy the attention lavished on her that day. By Targaryen standards she was no great beauty, but she was striking and far from ugly, and no one could deny how regal she looked in her gown. She liked being the centre of attention, the one everyone had come to see.

"Do you really need another cup of wine?" Her brother turned to her as they sat at the high table during the wedding feast. His wide smile that had been present all day had faded somewhat in concern.

"Shove off, Viserys," Daena elbowed him with the look of a bratty little sister, and he huffed a laugh. "I'm a married woman - I can drink what I like,"

She had been gulping down Dornish red all night, because why not? It was hardly her first time drinking wine. And it was her wedding, after all. Everyone wanted to be drunk at their wedding.

And, though she'd rather die than admit it, she was nervous for the bedding ceremony. Daena Targaryen did not get nervous, but the idea of dozens of strangers tearing at her clothes and making crude jests did make her feel sick. As she was such a young bride, they probably wouldn't strip her completely, but still. She had no brothers to pick her up and carry her to her chambers; the only one she had was the one whose bed she would be delivered to.

"As your husband, I could stop you, you know," He said it in jest, but it riled her nonetheless.

"Then I'll fly away on Caraxes," She snapped, temper flaring. "I'd like to see you follow on your fat old lump of a dragon,"

"Then I shall marry cousin Aemma and likely be happier for it," Her brother laughed, and she rammed him with her shoulder instead of her elbow this time. "Ouch! How are you so strong?"

"You're just soft and fat,"

He actually rolled his eyes.

All their family who still lived were there to offer their congratulations. The King and Queen, of course, and their father. Maegelle and Vaegon had come from Oldtown, and though Daena liked her softly-spoken aunt well enough, her uncle the Archmaester was insufferable; no wonder his own family had sent him away. Gael, of course, cooed over her dress, but did dance with her under the sharp eye of Alysanne. Even Lord Arryn had come, with cousin Aemma.

"I'm glad it's your wedding," The tiny little girl said to Daena, where no one else could hear, eyes wide and her hand impossibly small in her own. "I'm so glad it's you,"

Would her father have insisted on no bedding, if it was Aemma rather than Daena? She was young, but her cousin was younger, both in body and character. Would Viserys have cared enough to avoid doing his duty, if it was not his own sister?

"So am I," Daena grinned. "You look better in blue and white than black and red,"

Someone else might have taken that as an insult, but Aemma just laughed and agreed with her.

And then, of course, there was cousin Rhaenys. Her husband, Lord Corlys, was Master of Ships for King Jaehaerys and resided in King's Landing, though they had left their two young children - Laena and Laenor, the reason that there was even a wedding at all so soon - at Driftmark. Rhaenys was as beautiful as ever, her long black hair streaming down her back, and as proud as any queen.

"I do not know whether to laugh or weep," The young woman tossed her hair. "That it is you, Daena Targaryen, who will one day hold the title that I never will,"

Even before the rift in the family over Baelon being chosen as heir over Rhaenys, Daena and her cousin - seven years her elder - had always had a strange, combative but not entirely unfriendly releationship.

"I had no idea," Daena made her eyes wide and innocent, though her tone was anything but. "That you wanted to lay with my brother so badly, Rhaenys. Is Lord Corlys no longer satisfying you? I fear you are mistaken, if you believe Viserys will,"

Corlys Velaryon choked on his wine, stifling a laugh as his wife shot him a glare.

Despite herself, Rhaenys bit back a smile. "It will almost be worth it, seeing you try and act the graceful Queen, you little wretch,"

"Who said I would try?" Daena said. "How about we race for it? You and Meleys, me and Caraxes," It still rankled, a little, that her cousin had claimed her mother's dragon.

"Myself and my red lady Meleys are above such infantile things," Rhaenys sniffed, though smiled for true. "I will come flying with you on the morrow, however. You are only two years bonded, after all, and I am sure you have picked up all kinds of terrible habits. No doubt the Blood Wyrm rides you, rather than the other way around,"

"Careful, my lady," Corlys grinned at the scowl on Daena's face. "I fear your cousin's temper is as fierce as her mount's,"

"Just as fierce, but without quite the same bite," Rhaenys smirked. "Though I will admit, I almost feel sorry for Viserys. You walk all over him as it is, and I doubt marriage vows will make you more obedient,"

Daena's anger faded as fast as it had come - she did truly like Rhaenys - and she grinned. "The opposite, if anything,"

Once her cousin had tired enough of their sniping, and Gael had retired for the night with her mother to the Queen's bedchambers, Daena left the high table to drink with the Strong sisters, Harwin and Willem, who were much better company than Viserys and the rest of her family.

"Would Caraxes not fit in the hall?" Perianne asked.

"If he tried hard enough," Daena replied with a grin.

"If only he had joined in the Sept," Leona said. "It would have livened up the High Septon's speech,"

At that, she laughed loudly, though was soon torn away from her friends as the call for the bedding ceremony went up.

They did not consummate the marriage that night, of course, though Daena did make a small cut on her foot to give the appearance of a bloody sheet. Her father had told Viserys to do that for her, but he had blanched as he held the knife, so she had just grabbed it and done it herself. It wasn't strange or awkward, sharing a bed with him. They had done the same as children in the years after Mother died. But the idea of doing anything more than sleeping was unpleasant for both of them.

"So?" Seren asked with a sly smile, the morning after the wedding, once Daena had hastily left for her own chambers; they had once been King Maegor's, and were the best connected to the network of tunnels. "Have you fallen madly in love with Prince Viserys, after your wedding night?"

"You know I didn't," Daena scowled. "The less I have to do that, the better. Whores should be paid more than whatever they are getting, for putting up with men and pretending to enjoy it,"

Her handmaid - who had served her since they were both eight, and had never been afraid of her moods - just laughed. "I suppose the man in question not being your brother helps, Princess,"

"I'm a Targaryen," She said. "That's supposed to be the appeal,"

"The Prince is a handsome man, at least,"

Daena pulled a face. "Feel free to take my place. We look enough alike that so long as the babe is not born with brown eyes, no one should ever know,"

*

That morning, she went flying with Rhaenys as promised. Meleys was the swiftest dragon alive, easily outpacing the larger Caraxes, but for once Daena did not mind, merely pleased to be in the skies with her cousin, instead of being trapped in the castle below. It was just what she needed.

They only returned when the tolling of the bells of King's Landing reached their ears.

"What happened?" Rhaenys asked the nearest dragonkeeper, the moment they landed.

"The Black Dread, Princess," The man said, sombre. "Balerion has breathed his last,"

Well, that was a poor omen, the morning after her wedding. 

A strange noise reached their ears, and Daena recognised it as her brother. She found Viserys beside the vast black corpse of his dragon, on his knees and sobbing. Even Rhaenys did not have it in her to say something cutting, placing a hand on Meleys' neck. The bond between dragon and rider was a precious thing, that caused great pain when broken. It was rarely the rider who had to suffer this, given they were usually outlived by their dragon.

"Viserys," Daena cautiously approached, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

"I only flew with him once," Her brother's voice was hollow. "I know it does not seem like much, but - "

"No," She cut him off. "You don't have to explain," 

Balerion had been the last creature alive to see Old Valyria. He was the mightiest living thing to walk the earth, and his wings could block out the sun itself. Seeing him still and lifeless, dead of old age, was... sobering.

She slept in his chambers again that night, once more only to sleep, and comfort her brother as he cried for his lost dragon, just as they had done for Princess Alyssa's death. For once, she did not think him weak or overly emotional. The thought of losing Caraxes was incomprehensible. She would rather lose a limb.

*

I realised while writing this that we never saw an incestuous marriage in canon where both of the people only viewed the other as a sibling not a lover. I suppose Aerys and Rhaella, on her side, and maybe Daena the Defiant, but I can't think of any others - let me know if I'm wrong. I thought it was an interesting and excruciating dynamic to explore, because honestly I could not write any form of Daemon and Viserys being attracted to each other.