ACT I — CHAPTER I
Lᴏᴏᴋ ⵊɴ Tʜᴇ Mɪʀʀᴏʀ

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The first time Myra Velaryon noticed she was different from her brothers was when their dragons hatched and hers did not.

Every night before she slept, Myra would pray to the Old Gods and the New, begging for them to hatch her egg, but they did not answer.

Even though Jacaerys and Lucerys were younger than her, Myra looked up to them. They were kind and honorable, and the Velaryon girl wished she could be more like them. In some ways, she envied them because of how good they were.

Myra would never bring this up to either of her parents. Envying your siblings was normal, at least she thought it was, and she didn't want to get into an unnecessary disagreement. She did, however, mention it to her uncle, Aegon.

"You have nothing to envy," Aegon told her, "You can always claim a dragon. They can never change who they are."

They were in the gardens of the Red Keep, lying under a tree. Myra propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at her uncle, her brow scrunched in confusion.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Aegon shrugged, plucking the petals off of a flower he had picked, "Nothing. But, I would suggest taking a good look in the mirror sometime soon."

Aegon was five years older than Myra, so she had always thought him to be very wise. Because of this, the next time Myra found herself in front of a mirror, she took a good look.

She was very much her father's daughter. She looked so much like him that Laenor often told her he sometimes mistook her for his twin sister, Laena. Her silver hair fell in ringlets just below her shoulders and her brown skin would glow in the sun. Myra's eyes, however, she had gotten from her mother.

While Rhaenyra and Laenor both had violet eyes, signifying their Valyrian heritage, Rhaenyra's eyes were a much lighter shade. Myra's eyes were one of the few indicators that she was Rhaenyra's daughter.

What was the point of having her look in the mirror? Aegon had told her not to envy her brothers, and that the reason for this was in the mirror. So, Myra thought of her brothers.

Jacaerys had the same curly hair as she did, but instead of it being the bright platinum that hers was, his hair was a dark brown, so dark it was almost black. Lucerys' hair was also that same dark brown, but his hair was straight, and so thick that it made waves in his hair.

They had the same eyes as Myra, though, the same as their mother. But, other than their eyes, Myra didn't look too much like her brothers.

Sure, she and Jace both had curly hair, but his curls were much looser than her. She and Luke both had circular faces. But that was where their similarities ended.

Myra wasn't sure what point Aegon had been trying to make. So what if they didn't look similar? Myra took after their father and Jace and Luke took after their mother. Aegon and his siblings all took after their father instead of their mother. His words didn't make sense to her.

The next time she saw Aegon was in the dragonpit for one of their lessons. Myra thought it was ridiculous that she had to go, considering her lack of a dragon, but at least she had Aemond, Aegon's little brother. His dragon had never hatched either, so he and Myra would watch as Jace, Luke, and Aegon.

As they stood off to the side watching, Myra and Aemond would repeat the words their family was saying, judging each other's pronunciation.

"Dohaeras," Aemond whispered after Luke said the same to Arrax.

"You need to drag out the end," Myra told him, "It should sound more like dohaerās."

"Dohaerās. Dohaerās," Aemond repeated.

"Demās," Myra said after Jace said it to Vermax.

"Perfect," Aemond said, causing a smile to grow on the girl's face.

These lessons were always long and dreadfully boring for the pair. Myra wished she could stay with Helaena, her aunt. Helaena never had to train with her dragon, for Gods know what reason, so she was exempt from this torment. Myra had begged her mother to not attend the lessons, but Rhaenyra refused.

"You are the heir apparent, and, one day, you will have a dragon," Rhaenyra had told her. So, too often, Myra was forced down to the dragonpit.

"Dracarys!" Aegon commanded his dragon, Sunfyre. A moment later, a small breath of fire came from the dragon's mouth.

"Dracarys," Myra repeated. She imagined her own dragon, breathing fire just as Sunfyre had.

"Perfect again, as always," Aemond said.

As the three dragons were taken into the bowels of the pit, Jace and Luke waited for Myra to accompany them, but she hung behind.

"Go on," she urged, "I will meet you shortly."

She waited until her brothers were out of sight before walking up to Aegon and Aemond, who had lingered behind in the dragonpit.

Aegon looked down at her, a sly smile on his face, "And how can I help you, dear niece?"

"I do not understand what you meant," Myra replied.

"What do you not understand?"

"I looked in the mirror, like you suggested," she said, "But I failed to see the point you were trying to make."

Aegon looked taken aback, as if he were surprised by what Myra was saying, "You did not notice any differences? Nothing at all?"

"I noticed differences, of course, but what is that supposed to mean? You, Aemond, and Helaena differ from your mother. I differ from my mother and my brothers," Myra answered, "What does any of that have to do with who they are?"

For a moment, Aegon said nothing. He looked at Aemond, as if there was something they knew that Myra didn't. Then, Aegon burst into laughter.

Myra didn't know what to do as Aegon bent over in his fit of laughter. She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment, and she sheepishly looked down at her feet.

"Our — our niece is an imbecile!" he laughed. Myra's head snapped up, her eyes wide.

Aegon stopped laughing when he saw the tears welling in Myra's eyes. He sighed, placing his hand on her shoulder, "I am sorry, Myra, but it is hard to believe that you truly are that blind. You understand me, don't you, Aemond?"

Aegon looked to his brother, expecting him to agree, but Aemond was glaring at him, his eyes full of hatred.

"Come on, Myra," Aemond said, grabbing the Velaryon girl's hand and pulling her out of the dragonpit, ignoring Aegon's calls behind them.

Aemond led her through the Red Keep, with Myra silently wiping her tears as they went. She knew Aegon could be cruel. He often made callous remarks to Jacaerys and Lucerys, and he made some to Myra, on occasion. But to laugh in her face and call her an imbecile? That was a lower level of cruelty, even for her uncle.

Eventually, Aemond dragged Myra to the Godswood. He led her over to weirwood tree and, together, they sat underneath it, Myra laying her head on Aemond's shoulder.

"He should not have said that," Aemond told her, after they had been sitting silently for a few minutes, "It was cruel."

"His words were not the cruel part," Myra said, "The cruel part was that he did not even try to hide just how little he thinks of me."

"Aegon does not think little of you," Aemond said, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger, "He just — it is hard for him to understand how you cannot see."

"See what?" Myra asked, pulling away from him, "I am sick of being treated like a fool! What am I supposed to understand? Just tell me!"

Aemond looked at her, and his eyes were full of pity, which filled Myra with even more rage.

"It is not for me to say," he said.

Myra scoffed, "Of course it is not."

She stood up and stomped away, leaving Aemond in the Godswood, alone, staring at the empty spot where she had just been.

•⋅•⋅•

Myra finally realized what Aegon and Aemond meant the next time she saw Ser Harwin.

Harwin Strong was the Commander of the City Watch and had taken a fondness for Myra and her brothers. Or, at least that's what Myra thought.

On days where she finished her studies early, Myra would go to the training yard and watch her brothers. She desperately wanted to join them and learn how to wield a sword, but she knew it would be improper, so she never asked.

Some days, she could convince Helaena to come and watch with her, but Myra's aunt didn't like the loud noises, so, more often than not, she would sit with her grandsire, Viserys Targaryen, King of the Seven Kingdoms.

Since Myra was second in line for the Iron Throne, Viserys would talk to her about what it was like to be the King, and all of the duties and responsibilities that came with it. Myra knew that what he was saying was important, but there were only so many times she could hear him talk about the importance of upholding peace in the realm before she lost her mind. So, she tended to tune him out and focus on her brothers.

Jacaerys and Lucerys would practice their swordsmanship with Aemond and Aegon. They were trained by Ser Criston Cole, a member of the King's Guard, and Ser Harwin.

Myra didn't like Criston Cole. He had always been cold to her, but that wasn't the reason for her distaste. She didn't like how he treated her brothers.

Criston showed obvious favoritism to Aemond and Aegon. He spent far more time training her uncles than her brothers and barely even offered a helping hand to Jacarys and Lucerys. That was where Harwin came in.

He provided the training and lessons that Criston would not. From Myra's point of view, he was nothing but kind, a nice man who served his duty to the best of his ability.

On this day, however, Myra had Aegon's words in her head. How he had told her to look in the mirror when she said she envied her brothers. How he had asked her if she noticed any differences.

In the mirror, Myra had noticed that she didn't look much like her brothers. Here, in the training yard, Myra noticed that her brothers looked almost exactly like Harwin Strong.

Jace was almost the spitting image of Harwin. They had the same face and dark curly hair. Luke may have had Myra's face and straight hair, but his hair was just as dark as Harwin's and they had the same nose.

Jacaerys and Lucerys looked nothing like Laenor Velaryon. Perhaps if Aegon had told her to compare them instead of looking in a mirror, she would have figured it out sooner.

But Myra knew that she couldn't bring this up to anyone. If what she thought was true, then she knew it wasn't a good thing. Myra understood it was a delicate topic, so when she chose to bring it up to her father, she did so as tactfully as she could.

She had left the training yard before the session was over, telling Viserys that she was not feeling well. Then, Myra made her way up to her father's chambers, lightly knocking on his door.

"Come in!" her father called.

Myra opened the door, and a large smile broke out on Laenor's face when he saw her.

"Hello, my darling. Where are your brothers?" he asked, standing up from his desk to greet her. Myra gave him a hug, and Laenor placed a kiss upon her head.

"Training. I grew weary watching," Myra answered.

"But you love to watch them train," Laenor said.

It was true, she liked to watch her brothers fight with swords and imagine that she was fighting with them. It was another reason for her to envy them.

"I know," Myra said. She pulled away from her father and walked farther in his room, sitting down in a chair by the fireplace. Laenor followed, tilting his head as he peered at her.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, sitting down across from her.

Myra nodded, kicking her feet and staring into the fire, "I am fine. But I — I had a question."

"And what question would that be?" Laenor asked, a playful smile on his face.

"If someone was to — how could — what would it mean if someone didn't look like their father but looked remarkably like another man?"

When Laenor's smile fell, Myra wished she had found a way to say it differently. She shifted in her seat nervously, avoiding her father's eye.

Laenor rested his elbows on his knees, putting his head in his hands and sighing. For a moment, Myra thought he would be angry with her, but when he looked up, he seemed surprisingly calm.

"Well, Myra, in this scenario — this fake scenario you have proposed, if someone did not look like their father but remarkably like another man, that someone would be a — a bastard," Laenor began, speaking slowly, as if he were picking his words carefully, "A bastard is a child that is born outside of a marriage. Bastards are seen as illegitimate children. Do you understand what I'm saying, Myra?"

Myra nodded. Jacaerys and Lucerys were illegitimate children.

"So, in the proposed scenario, let's say that the bastard child is like you, a highborn child," Laenor said, "If people were to discover that this child was a bastard, then the claims of their family would stripped and their lives would be forfeit. Do you understand?"

Myra nodded, once again. If people were to discover that Jace and Luke were bastards, they could be killed.

She looked up at her father, "If the real father knew that the bastard wasn't his child, wouldn't he be mad? Wouldn't he want to tell someone?"

"No, he would not be mad," Laenor said, "The father, in our scenario, would understand that — that some — how do I put this ..."

Laenor ran his hands over his face, leaning back in his seat. Myra watched him closely.

"The father would not be mad because he knew that the child could not be truly his, due to reasons that cannot be explained," Laenor finally said, "But that does not mean he doesn't love that child. If the father had a trueborn child, perhaps, he would love the bastard just as much as his own child. Nothing could change that. And the trueborn child should have no reason to love the bastard child any less. Do you understand?"

"I understand," Myra replied, "Even though the father knows the child is not truly his, he still loves them, because he still sees them as his own. No one can know that the child is a bastard or else they could be in danger."

"Yes, and that is the most important thing to remember, Myra," Laenor said, getting off of his chair and kneeling on the ground in front of her, "The child could be killed if it is found out. It is important for those who know the truth to deny it. Everyone who knows them loves this child. Being a bastard does not matter, and it does not define them."

"It doesn't define them," Myra repeated. Then in a low whisper, she added, "I won't tell a soul."

A sad smile formed on Laenor's face, and he hugged his daughter tightly. Some things Myra was still unclear about, but she knew enough.

She would never tell anyone the truth. Myra loved her brothers more than anything. She would rather die than lose them, or at least that's what she told herself.

•⋅•⋅•

Not long after her conversation with her father, Myra decided to hunt down Aemond.

She finally found him in the Godswood, in the same place she had left him a few days before. She walked up to where he sat under the weirwood tree, reading a book.

Aemond looked up at her, "Hello, Myra."

"I wanted to apologize for leaving you so callously," she told him.

"There's nothing to apologize for," Aemond said, before gesturing to the space beside him, "Would you like to sit?"

Myra nodded, sitting down next to him and leaning back against the tree.

"Aegon feels awful for what he said," Aemond stated, flipping a page in his book.

"He told you that?"

"No, but I can tell."

"He has nothing to feel awful for. I have forgiven him," Myra said, staring up at the leaves.

Aemond turned to her, "So you have come to see what Aegon meant?"

Myra froze. It is important for those who know the truth to deny it, Laenor had said.

"No, I have not. And I am tired of trying to figure it out. It has been giving me a headache," Myra answered, as coolly as she could.

"Whatever you say," Aemond muttered, focusing back on his book. Myra leaned over, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"What are you reading?" she asked him.

"Some history book my mother gave to me," Aemond answered. Alicent Hightower, his mother and the Queen, had always been cold to Myra, similarly to how Criston Cole was, so she didn't like her very much. Due to this, Myra decided not to respond to Aemond.

Aemond flipped another page, and Myra's brow scrunched. There was a page missing. Aemond traced his frayed edge with his finger.

"That's odd," Myra remarked.

"It is," Aemond agreed, "I wonder who did it."

"I wonder why they did," Myra said.

Myra and Aemond sat in the Godswood for the next few hours, basking in the sunlight and enjoying their time together.

Neither of them were aware of the gathering storm that was ahead of them. But perhaps that was for the best.

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WRITTEN: may 2024
EDITED: june 2024
WORDS: 2,998

AUTHOR'S NOTE! hello everyone!! so having myra be laenor's child creates an interesting scenario since rhaenyra and laenor aren't talking about how the boys are bastards obviously, so i wanted a set up chapter where myra figured it out. in the timeline this takes place about a year before episode six.

i hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! i'm very proud of it and i'm excited to write more :)