ACT I — CHAPTER IV
A Fᴀɪʀ Exᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ

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Myra had never met Laena Velaryon, but her father had always told her how much she resembled her aunt. Now, in the wake of Laena's death, Laenor looked at her as if she were a ghost.

The news came not long after they had received word of the deaths of Ser Harwin Strong and is father. Jacaerys had taken the news the hardest, and Myra had been doing her best to be there for him. She had taken her brother to the gardens to clear his thoughts when they saw Laenor approaching them.

"Father? Did you need something?" Myra asked.

The moment she spoke, Laenor stopped in his tracks. Myra stood up from where she was sitting with Jace. She slowly started to approach him.

"Is there something wrong?" she pressed.

Laenor took one look at his daughter before bursting into tears. Myra froze — she had never seen her father cry before. She had always prided herself on being able to comfort those she loved, but there, as her father sobbed uncontrollably in front of her, Myra found that she did not know what to do.

•⋅•⋅•

The ship ride to Driftmark was dreadful.

It was too quiet, too sad. The entire time, Laenor stood on the deck, watching the sea pass by underneath them. Myra stood by his side the whole time. Sometimes, Laenor would look down at her, but he couldn't for more than a few moments before bursting into tears.

Myra wasn't sure how to feel about being the spitting image of someone who was dead. Every time Laenor glanced at her, she felt more and more like the ghost he thought she was.

When they reached the shore, they were greeted by Corlys and Rhaenys, each with solemn expressions on their faces. Myra hugged both of them tightly, and they both stared at her for a moment too long. They must have noticed the resemblance as well, she thought.

Laena's family, her husband and two daughters, were tucked away in High Tide, not meeting with anyone before the funeral. Myra had never met them, and she knew little about them. Whenever Daemon, Laena's husband and her grandsire's brother, was brought up, Rhaenyra grew uncomfortably silent or quickly changed the subject.

When they reached High Tide, Myra was delighted to see her grandsire's family already there. It had been weeks since she had seen them, and after a tiresome journey, she was relieved for a bit of normalcy.

"Did you speak of me every day?" Myra asked Aemond as she embraced him.

"Of course. How could I not?" he replied.

She sighed in relief. At least one good thing would come of the day.

Myra had never known anyone who had died, so she had no reason to go to a funeral. She doubted Ser Harwin's funeral would be anything like Laena's.

They stood on the rocky shoreline, watching as ropes were tied around Laena's casket of stone. Myra and her family stood close to it, but Laena's stood even closer. Finally seeing her family left a churning feeling in her stomach. Daemon looked like any other Targaryen, but it was Baela and Rhaena, his daughters, that caused Myra to feel sick. They looked more like her than her own brothers. She watched them intently as they clung to Rhaenys.

Laenor stood behind Myra, his hands desperately clutching onto her shoulders as silent tears streamed down his face and her great uncle, Vaemond Velaryon, spoke. While Myra could not speak High Valyrian very well, she was adequate in understanding it, as Rhaenyra would often speak it to her when she was growing up. So, she had a vague idea of the words Vaemond Velaryon was saying.

"Īlon join tubī rȳ se Seat hen Embar naejot commit se Riña Laena hen Lentor Velaryon naejot se eternal waters, se dominion hen Merling Dārys skoriot Kessa guard syt mirre se tubissa naejot māzigon," he began. Myra was able to gather that he was thanking everyone for coming as they laid Laena to rest.

"Hae ziry seats naejot embar syt zirȳla mōrī voyage, se Riña Laena tēmbi lanta drēje-āzma daughters va se rāenion," Vaemond continued, which was something about Baela and Rhaena, "Though pōja muña kessa daor return hen zirȳla voyage, kessi mirre umbagon bound hēnkirī isse ānogar."

Myra had lost herself in his words, unable to understand him anymore.

"Lopor coarses rȳ Velaryon ānogar. Īlvon dakogon qumblie," he hissed, and while Myra still didn't understand him, she could tell that his words were not kind by the Rhaenyra tightened her grip around her brothers, "Īlvon dakogon drēje. Se īlvon ēdruta dōrī vasrie."

And then Daemon Targaryen began to laugh. Myra found that very odd, as she knew this was not a laughing situation, and she didn't even know what he was saying.

She was not alone in this thought, as everyone looked at him strangely.

When Daemon quieted down, Vaemond continued, "Ñuha gentle niece. Kostagon se jelmior sagon hae kostōba hae aōha arlī, aōha seas hae gīda hae aōha spirit, se aōha nets sagon hae lēda hae aōha prūmia. Hen se embar īlon māstan. Naejot se embar īlon kessa return."

His words were a final farewell. Myra surprised herself when she completely understood his final words: From the sea we came. To the sea we shall return.

The ropes around the casket were released, and it fell into the ocean, taking Laena Velaryon with it. Laenor gripped onto Myra even tighter.

•⋅•⋅•

Myra didn't understand the point of the wake.

After a funeral, wouldn't one want to be on their own to try and process their grief? Why would one want to be surrounded and practically suffocated by people?

And yet, here she stood surrounded by people. Had Myra been the one to lose a mother, she would have felt smothered. She watched Baela and Rhaena from afar as the pair sat by themselves in a corner by a fire pit, watching the flames in front of them dance.

"We have nothing in common," Aegon said suddenly, pulling Myra out of her gaze.

She stood with her two uncles as they looked down at Helaena, who was playing with a spider in her hands and muttering to herself.

"She's our sister," Aemond replied, as Myra looked between them.

"You marry her, then," Aegon spat.

Myra agreed that Aegon and Helaena were an odd pairing. Perhaps it was an excuse for why she and Jacaerys could not marry them.

"If I were betrothed, I would not insult her as you do Helaena," Aemond told him, quickly glancing at Myra.

"She's an idiot," Aegon said.

"She's your future wife," Myra said, glaring at him slightly, "Do you have no respect?"

Aegon didn't answer. A serving maid came over, carrying drinks on a tray. Aegon quickly snatched one and placed his empty cup on it, looking the maid up and down.

"We actually do have one thing in common," Aegon said, leaning down so that he was eye-level with Myra and Aemond, "We both fancy creatures with very long legs."

He stood up and patted his niece on the back, "Keep growing, Myra."

With that, he walked away, following the unfortunate maid and calling her a wench. Myra didn't know what to say or feel.

Aemond shook his head, "I'm sorry for him."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Myra said, "In the weeks we were apart, I forgot how awful he could be. I missed him."

"I wish I could go a few weeks without seeing him," Aemond laughed.

Myra said nothing, as her attention had shifted back to Baela and Rhaena. Jace had joined them, holding one of the their hands.

"I'm going to speak to them," Myra said to Aemond, "Do you wish to come?"

Aemond took one look at Jace and shook his head, "No. Perhaps later."

Myra nodded, running a hand down his arm to say goodbye. Slowly, she walked over to her cousins, unsure of what she was going to say to them.

"Hello," she greeted, grabbing their attention, "I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, Myra," the one on the left said.

"I must be honest, I do not which of you is Rhaena and which of you is Baela. Please forgive me," Myra said, even though it pained her. Having to ask for their names at their own mother's funeral was downright embarrassing.

The one who had just spoken to her gave the hint of a smile, "It's quite alright. I'm Rhaena, this is Baela."

Baela smiled slightly to say hello to Myra, her grip still tight on Jace's hand.

"It is nice to meet the both of you. I wish it had been sooner, and under better circumstances," Myra rambled, "My father has always spoken highly of your mother and talked of visiting you all, but duty compelled us to stay in King's Landing, it seems."

"I agree. It would have been nice to have met you sooner. Mother often spoke of your father and her love for him," Rhaena sighed.

This sudden talk of her father made Myra realize she had not seen him since they arrived back to High Tide. She dismissed herself from the twins and began wandering through the wake. She canned the faces of strangers and distant family members, to no avail. She had no luck finding her mother either, and she felt as if she were going mad.

In defeat, Myra headed over to the wall so that she could stare out at the sea. She was just tall enough to see over it, but not tall enough to see the shore.

"Are you looking for your father?"

Myra looked up to her left. It was Daemon Targaryen, a cup of wine in hand.

"I am," she answered, "But he and my mother seem to have evaded me."

"I cannot speak for your mother, but your father is down there," he said, gesturing over the wall, "Can you see?"

Myra stood on the tips of her toes, but still, she was not tall enough to see where her father supposedly was.

"Here," Daemon offered, sticking his foot out.

The Velaryon girl tilted her head, looking at him oddly. He used his head to gesture down to his foot. It took another moment for Myra to understand what he wanted her to do. She carefully stepped onto his foot and stood on the tips of her toes again. It was just the extra height she needed; Laenor stood waist-deep in the water, rocking back and forth and staring out at the sea.

"Thank you," Myra muttered, not moving. Daemon did not respond.

They stayed like that for close to ten minutes, Myra on his foot to look at her father and Daemon drinking his cup of wine, grabbing a new one every time a serving maid came close enough.

Myra didn't know what to do to help her father. He had been in a depressive state since they received word of Laena's death, unable to speak. She missed her father even though he never left her, and she wanted to fix him, make him better.

"Myra!"

Her head whipped around. It was Rhaenyra who had hissed her name, as she frantically looked back and forth between Myra and Daemon.

Myra quickly stepped off of Daemon's foot and began to make her way to her mother, but quickly ran back to him.

"I am sorry for your loss," Myra told him. Daemon nodded in thanks, and Myra ran over to her mother.

Rhaenyra gently grabbed her arm and pulled her in the opposite direction, "Try to stay with me or your brothers. I do not want you alone, especially when I cannot find your father."

"But I wasn't alone, I was with Daemon! He was showing me where father was!" Myra argued, looking back to where she was standing.

Rhaenyra stopped in her tracks. She looked to where Daemon stood before leaning down to meet Myra at her level, "Where did Daemon say he was?"

Before Myra could answer, a loud screech could be heard. Everyone at the wake froze and looked to where the sound had come from. Although the dragon could not be seen, Vhagar's presence was felt. She was the largest and oldest dragon in the world, ridden by Visenya the Conqueror. Laena had been her most recent rider, and Vhagar mourned her death just as they did.

Myra turned back to her mother, "Father is down in —"

Her attention was caught by Corlys Velaryon, who was stomping across the courtyard. He marched up to Ser Qarl, one of Laenor's knights, and roughly grabbed his arm.

"Retrieve your patron," he hissed in his ear, but loud enough for others to hear. Myra could see many people looking over at the scene, including Queen Alicent, who was watching intently.

"Myra?" Rhaenyra questioned, regaining the girl's attention.

"He's in the water," Myra muttered, "By the shore. I was watching over him when you called."

Ser Qarl left the wake, seemingly going to find Laenor.

Myra looked up at her mother. She wondered what she was thinking. Did she miss Laena? Did she miss Ser Harwin? Myra wondered if she would rather be at Ser Harwin's funeral than Laena's. After all, he was the father of three of her children. Myra couldn't help but think that the only reason Rhaenyra came to this funeral was because of her duty to Myra. Perhaps if she had never been born they would all be at his funeral instead.

Rhaenyra moved her grip down to Myra's hand and pulled her over to Jace and Luke, who both now stood with Baela and Rhaena.

"Go to bed," she told the three of them.

"But, Mother —" Jace tried to argue.

"Go to bed," Rhaenyra repeated, her voice more stern, "Myra, make sure your brothers arrive safely."

"Yes, Mother," Myra nodded. With that, Rhaenyra walked away, off into the crowd.

Myra turned back to her siblings, "Come on, you heard Mother."

"Myra, please —" Luke started, but Myra immediately shut him down.

"Mother said we had to go. We will be staying on Driftmark for two more days, so there is no need to worry about missing anyone."

She bid Baela and Rhaena goodnight before directing her little brothers toward the castle. Suddenly, someone grabbed Myra's arm, causing her to jump. She quickly relaxed once she saw that it was just Aemond.

"Where are you going?" he asked her.

"To bed. Our mother told us we had to," Myra explained, "Will I see you in the morning?"

"Of course," Aemond said, letting go of her. He looked warily between Jace and Luke, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Aemond," Myra said, smiling at him before pulling her brothers inside.

The chambers she was staying in were more similar to hers in Dragonstone than her old one in King's Landing. They felt older than the room she had grown up in, more ancient. Myra had always been fascinated with history and old days, so the old coldness of the quarters never made her too uncomfortable.

Myra, who had always been the curious type, explored the entire room. She looked at every book and through every drawer. She mostly found quills and parchment inside, but in one she found an ancient-looking blade, with gold engraved in the handle. Myra found herself admiring the blade for quite a while, placing it onto her nightstand when she was done.

As she was about to get on her bed, Myra heard a knock on her door.

"Come in!" she called, expecting it to be one of her parents. Instead, Luke's little head popped inside the room.

"Luke?" Myra started, "Is something wrong?"

"Can — can I stay with you?" Luke asked.

Myra smiled softly, "Of course. Come here."

The two siblings laid in bed next to each other, staring at the ceiling. Luke clung to Myra's arm, laying his head on her.

"I don't like this," Luke said suddenly, into the darkness.

"What do you not like?" Myra asked him.

"People dying."

Myra didn't know how to answer that. She looked towards the window, where the moonlight came in, barely outlining her little brother's face.

"I am glad I won't inherit anything," Luke continued, "If I was to be the King or Lord of the Tides, it would mean that everyone was dead."

Myra had never thought of that before. For Rhaenyra to be queen, her grandsire would have to die. For Myra to be queen, her mother would have to die. She didn't want to live in a world without them. It filled her with dread.

The young girl ran her free hand through her brother's hair. Whether it was to soothe him or herself more, Myra wasn't sure.

•⋅•⋅•

"Myra! Myra, wake up!"

Myra jumped awake, looking to Jace, who was shaking her aggressively, and Baela and Rhaena, who stood just behind him.

"Jace? What's wrong?" she asked, sitting up in her bed, Luke just starting to stir.

"Someone stole Vhagar!" Baela told her.

Myra rubbed her eyes, "What do you mean, someone stole her?"

"Someone is riding her right now!" Rhaena said, "I was meant to claim her, we have to see who it is!"

"Alright, but we should —"

They were already halfway to the door before Myra could suggest that they find someone who could actually help them, like their parents or an adult. Myra hopped out of bed, beginning to follow after them when she stopped in her tracks. She looked back to the blade that sat on the nightstand.

It is impossible to say what possessed Myra to go back for that blade. Perhaps it was fear. Perhaps it was anger. There is no way of knowing. Some would say that her simple action would set into motion everything that was to come.

Myra grabbed the blade off the nightstand and walked to the door. She stuck her hand out for Luke to grab onto, and together they followed Jace, Baela, and Rhaena.

There were no guards stationed outside of Myra's bedchambers, or any of the bedchambers they passed. Myra found it odd, but did not see the need to question it as she and Luke followed the other three children through the corridors of the castle, as silent as mice. Baela and Rhaena knew High Tide better than the rest of them and, eventually, they led them through a small, dark tunnel.

Baela ripped open the door at the end of the tunnel, and Myra saw they were now in a dark cave, with sand on the floor. This must be Driftmark's dragonpit, that led out to the beach.

A dark figure was coming towards them. As the oldest, Myra moved in front of the other four children, the blade at her side, ready to defend them, but immediately relaxed upon seeing the person illuminated by a torch on the wall.

"Aemond, what —"

"It's him!" Baela interrupted, glaring at the boy.

"It's me," Aemond said, throwing his cloak to the ground.

Myra cursed herself for not realizing it sooner. For as long as she could remember, both she and Aemond had longed for a dragon. There was one ripe for the taking, and Aemond seized the opportunity.

"Vhagar is my mother's dragon!" Baela shouted.

"Your mother is dead," Aemond said, "And Vhagar has a new rider now."

"She was mine to claim!" Rhaena cried.

"Then you should've claimed her!"

Myra could see how furious Rhaena was, so she quickly stepped forward, trying to stop a fight before it began.

"Aemond could not have known that you were planning on claiming Vhagar. What's done is done, we should all just go back to bed," she said, stepping in between the two.

"Myra's right. We should all just go to bed," Aemond agreed, his gaze never leaving Rhaena, "Maybe in the morning your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you."

Before Myra could realize what was happening, Rhaena lunged forward, preparing to shove Aemond as hard as she could. Aemond, however, grabbed her arms and threw her to the ground. Baela, enraged with his actions stepped forward and hit him across the face. He was only down for a second, however, before he regained his footing and punched Baela in the face, knocking her to the ground.

"Come at me again and I'll feed you to my dragon!" he roared, towering over her.

Myra ran up to him, "Aemond, stop! Everyone needs to just let it —"

But Aemond had thought that Myra was Rhaena, coming for a second attack, and he punched her as hard as he could. Myra stumbled back, hitting her forehead against a rock when she fell, the blade flying out of her hand.

Immediately, blood started trickling down her face and into her eyes. Myra wiped it away as she looked up at Aemond, tears mixing with blood.

Aemond, realizing what he had done, looked horrified, "Myra, I'm —"

But the damage had been done. Jacaerys, who knew how much Myra loved Aemond, ran toward him, screaming, hitting him in the neck.

More punches were thrown, none of which Myra was able to see, as she was too busy wiping blood off of her face and trying to stop the bleeding.

Then, she heard Lucerys cry out in pain. Myra looked to where he had fallen and crawled over to him, cradling his head in her hands. Aemond had hit him directly in the nose, and he started to bleed as much as Myra.

She looked up and saw that Jace, Baela, and Rhaena had managed to push Aemond to the ground, and they all took turns hitting and kicking him. Myra pushed herself to her feet, stumbling as she walked over to them.

"Stop it!" she cried, pulling them away from him, "We have to stop!"

Myra felt a sharp sting and her stomach and then she was flying back. Aemond had started kicking himself, and Jace soon landed right next to her.

By the time she was able to wipe the blood out of her eyes and assess the scene, Aemond had a tight grip around Luke's neck with one hand and a rock held above his head with the other.

"You will die screaming in flames just as your father did!" he shouted, his eyes shifting to Jace, "Bastards!"

Myra froze. It was her worst fear come to life. It was her duty to protect her brothers, to make sure that no one figured out the truth of their parentage. Yet, there she was, too weak to protect them from harm as one of the people she loved most in the world spoke the cold, hard truth aloud for the world to hear.

"My father's still alive!" Luke yelled between sobs, struggling to breathe.

Aemond smirked at Jace, "He doesn't know, does he, Lord Strong?"

Myra looked up at her brother and the expression on her face told her everything she needed. Jace had already known.

"Aemond — Aemond, please —"

"Are you still going to deny it, Myra?" Aemond questioned, both he and Myra unaware of Jace's movement towards her discarded blade, "You cannot turn a blind eye to it anymore!"

"I'm not turning a blind eye to anything!" Myra argued, her own sobs making it hard for her to speak, "It's not true!"

Jace picked Myra's blade up from the ground and held it out towards Aemond, daring him to move. Aemond shoved Luke towards him, but Jace quickly pushed his brother to the side, swiping at Aemond. He dodged every attack and was able to get close enough to Jace to shove him to the ground, the blade flying from his hands.

Aemond stalked towards Jace, rock still in hand. He held it up in the air, but before he could bring it down, Myra was on her feet running at him. She tried to shove Aemond over, knock the rock out of his hand, but to no avail — with one move of his arm she was back on the ground, heaving dryly. Aemond raised the rock back up, ready to bring it down on Jace's head.

Unbeknownst to Myra, Luke had seen Jace drop the blade, and he had taken hold of it. As Aemond moved toward Jace again, Jace saw Luke grab the blade. He grabbed a handful of sand and flung it into Aemond's face. As he stumbled back, Luke ran forward, screaming as he sliced the blade across Aemond's face.

Aemond cried out, falling to the ground and clutching his eye as blood seeped through his fingers. Myra crawled toward him.

"Aemond!" she screamed, placing a hand on his back. He fell into her, his head resting in her lap as he cried, clutching his eye. Myra turned to Baela and Rhaena, who stood frozen by the door.

"Go get help!" Myra shouted, "Now!"

But help had already arrived. Ser Harrold Westerling, the Lord Commander of the King's Guard, came running into the tunnel, more knights in tow.

"Cease this at once!" he yelled, even though the fighting had already stopped.

Myra turned to him, streaks of blood and tears falling down her face, "Ser Harrold! Help him, please!"

Ser Harrold ran over to the pair, kneeling next to them. Myra stroked Aemond's hair as he wailed, looking between the boy in her lap and Ser Harrold.

"My Prince, my Prince," he said softly, "Let me see."

Slowly, Aemond removed his hand from his eye. Ser Harrold froze. Myra's breath hitched.

"Gods be good," the knight muttered.

•⋅•⋅•

Myra felt as though she were a lone soldier facing down an army one thousand men strong.

Everyone was gathered in the throne room of High Tide as a maester attempted to fix what was left of Aemond's eye. Everyone, that is, except for the people she needed. Rhaenyra and Laenor were nowhere to be found, nor were Rhaenys and Corlys. Baela and Rhaena were alone as well, as Daemon also seemed to be missing. However, it was not Baela and Rhaena who struck Aemond.

Jace and Luke clung to her tightly as Viserys sat on the Driftwood throne, looking between everyone.

"How could you allow such a thing to happen?" he asked Ser Harrold, "I will have answers!"

"The children were supposed the be abed, My King," Ser Harrold told him.

"Who had the watch?"

If only she had sought out a member of the Kingsguard, Myra thought. If only she had left the blade in her chambers.

"The young prince was attacked by his own cousins, Your Grace," Ser Criston spoke. Myra hugged her brothers even tighter, pulling them closer to her.

"You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!" Viserys shouted, standing up.

"I'm very sorry, Your Grace," Ser Harrold said.

"The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes, Your Grace," Ser Criston added.

"That is no answer!" Viserys screamed, right in his face. Luke flinched, and Myra ran a hand up and down his arm.

"It will heal, will it not, maester?" Queen Alicent asked, kneeling by Aemond with tears in her eyes.

Everyone quieted to hear the maester's answer, "The flesh will heal. But the eye is lost, Your Grace."

Myra's stomach dropped. She felt sick. If only she had sought out a member of the Kingsguard. If only she had left the blade in her chambers.

Alicent rose over to her feet, storming over to Aegon, "Where were you?"

Aegon looked taken aback, "Me?"

Alicent slapped him harshly. Myra, Jace, and Luke all flinched.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool!" Alicent hissed.

Myra looked at Aemond. He was already looking back at her. He had a long gash going down his face, which had been sewn together. What was left of his left eye was bloodied and bruised, so much so that it made Myra feel sick. She looked down at her feet.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Myra turned to where the loud voice came from. Rhaenys and Corlys were coming down the stairs that led to the throne room.

"Baela, Rhaena!" Rhaenys called as the twins ran towards her, "What happened? What happened?"

Corlys walked up to Myra, Jace, and Luke. He looked over the three bleeding children, and Myra could see a fury ignite in his eyes.

The door from the great hall opened.

"Myra? Jace?"

Myra breathed a sigh of relief. She had never been so grateful to hear her mother's voice in her entire life.

"Luke! Myra!" Rhaenyra exclaimed upon seeing the state of her children.

She ran over to them and kneeled down, a worried look on her face as she looked them over.

"Show me, show me," she cooed to Luke, who was holding his bloodied, broken nose.

Rhaenyra turned to Myra next, "Your head, my darling, let me see."

The bleeding had slowed down significantly, but the maester hadn't had time to put anything over the gash on her forehead as he was too focused on Aemond, which Myra was perfectly fine with. As Rhaenyra looked at the damage done, Myra noticed Daemon standing in the doorway, seemingly having followed her mother.

"Who did this?" Rhaenyra asked, turning to Viserys.

"They attacked me!" Aemond shouted, his head peeking out from behind his chair.

"He attacked Myra!" Jace cried.

"He broke Luke's nose!"

And then all of the children were yelling, throwing out reasons. All of them except for Myra, that is, as all of the warbled yelling was making her head scream.

"He stole my mother's dragon!"

"There were four of them!"

"He was going to kill Jace!"

"Enough," Viserys commanded, his voice breathy.

Instead of listening to him, Alicent joined in the screaming fit, "It should be my son who is telling the tale!"

"He called us —"

"Silence!" Viserys yelled, and, finally, the reasons stopped.

Jace leaned down and whispered, "He called us bastards."

Rhaenyra sighed, looking between her children, even Myra. She bit her lip, nodding as she stood up and faced the room. Luke wrapped both of his arms around Myra's waist, and she wrapped one around his shoulders.

"Aemond," Viserys started, hobbling over to where his son sat, "I will have the truth of what happened. Now."

"What else is there to hear?" Alicent asked, stepping forward, "Your son has been maimed. Her son is responsible."

"It was a regrettable accident," Rhaenyra stated.

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

"Lucerys did not bring the blade," Myra piped up, "I did."

She stepped forward so that she was next to her mother. Luke moved his grip from Myra's waist to her arm.

"I brought the blade. I dropped it when Aemond hit me," Myra said, her voice quivering, "Luke only picked it up because Aemond held a rock over Jace's head and was prepared to strike him with it."

She glanced quickly at Aemond. He was peering at her, and he looked saddened. Myra wasn't sure if it was because of his eye or her words.

"As we have heard, it was my children who were attacked and forced to defend themselves," Rhaenyra announced, placing a hand on Myra's back, "Vile insults were levied against them."

"What insults?" Viserys asked.

The room was deathly quiet. Everyone was waiting with bated breath to see if what they had known for years would finally be said aloud.

"The legitimacy of my children's birth was put loudly to question," Rhaenyra answered, choosing her words carefully.

Viserys seemed confused, "What?"

"He called us bastards," Jace said, loudly this time.

Myra glanced around the room. Everyone present had the same stunned expression upon their faces.

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

"Over an insult?" Alicent questioned, disbelief written all over her face, "My son has lost an eye!"

Viserys leaned down over where Aemond sat, "You tell me, boy. Where did you hear this lie?"

"The insult was training yard bluster," Alicent said quickly, "The lot of boys. It was nothing —"

"Aemond," Viserys started, ignoring his wife, "I asked you a question."

Aemond was silent. Myra couldn't see his face.

"Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder? The boys' father?" Alicent questioned, trying to steer the conversation in a new direction, "Perhaps he might have something to say in the matter."

"Yes, where is Ser Laenor?" Viserys asked, turning to Rhaenyra.

"I do not know, Your Grace. I — I could not find sleep. I had gone out to walk," she told him, pulling Myra and Jace close.

"Entertaining his young squires, I would venture," Alicent scoffed.

Myra's brow scrunched. What did her father's squires have to do with any of this?

"Aemond," Viserys started again, "look at me. Your king demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?"

Silence, once again. Myra half hoped that Aemond would turn back to her so that she could see his face, see what he was thinking, but he didn't. Everyone in the room waited, all of them on the tips of their toes.

"It was Aegon," Aemond said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Me?" Aegon questioned.

Viserys hobbled over to his eldest son, "And you, boy? Where did you hear such calumnies?"

Aegon stood frozen and wide-eyed, staring straight ahead.

"Aegon!" Viserys shouted in his face, "Tell me the truth of it!"

Aegon looked around the room, right at both of his nephews and Myra before his father.

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

Myra pulled Luke even closer, and his arms went back around her waist. Viserys looked around the room for what must have been the millionth time, examining the faces of those around him. It had been Myra's duty to protect her brothers, to make sure that no one figured out the truth of their parentage. She had failed them.

"This interminable infighting must cease! All of you! We are family!" Viserys cried, "Now make your apologies and show good will to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!"

With that, Viserys began to walk away. He was almost halfway to the door when Alicent spoke.

"That is insufficient," she said, causing Viserys to stop in his tracks and turn to face his wife, "Aemond has been damaged, permanently, My King. Good will cannot make him whole."

"I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye."

"No, because it's been taken!"

"What would you have me do?"

"There is a debt to be paid," Alicent said, "I shall have one of her son's eyes in return."

The people started to talk amongst themselves. Myra looked up at her mother, and only saw fear in her eyes.

"My dear wife —"

"He is your son, Viserys," Alicent's voice was quivering, "Your blood."

"Do not allow your temper to guide your judgement," Viserys told her, turning to walk away again.

"If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will," Alicent announced, her voice much more steady, "Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon."

Myra's eyes widened. She looked between the Queen and Ser Criston, waiting for one of them to move in the slightest.

"Mother!" Luke cried out, as Myra pushed him behind her, "Myra!"

"You will do no such thing!" Rhaenyra told Ser Criston.

"Stay your hand!" Viserys commanded.

"No, you are sworn to me!" Alicent shouted.

Ser Criston's eyes fluttered between the three speaking to him before landing back on Alicent, "As your protector, my Queen."

Myra sighed in relief, squeezing Luke's arm as he peeked out from behind her.

"Alicent, this matter is finished," Viserys seethed, getting in her face, "Do you understand?"

Alicent did not say anything, but it was an answer enough for Viserys.

"And let it be known: anyone whose tongue dares to question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra's children should have it removed!" Viserys declared.

"Thank you, Father," Rhaenrya said, her voice quiet.

He began to make his way out of the throne room for the third time. Rhaenyra turned back to her children, kneeling down in front of them, a motherly smile on her face. For a moment, Myra truly believed that everything was going to be okay.

But since Rhaenyra's back was turned on Alicent, it seemed to give the Queen the courage to act. She snatched the blade he kept around his waist and came charging towards them, her gaze burning holes into Lucerys.

The room burst into chaos.

"Mother!" Myra shrieked, pointing at Alicent, who was mere feet away.

Myra quickly grabbed onto her screaming brother, wrapping her arms around him and preparing herself for the blow. When one never came, she turned back around and saw Rhaenyra and Alicent gripping onto each other's arms, the blade inches away from Rhaenyra's face.

The Kingsguard formed a circle around the pair, trying to keep everyone else out of harm's way. Daemon had come off of his place by the door and was holding back Ser Criston.

"You've gone too far," Rhaenyra hissed, trying to push the blade away from her face.

"I?" Alicent asked, as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing, "What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law. While you flout it all to do as you please!"

"Alicent, let her go!"

"Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?" the Queen went on, "It's trampled under your pretty foot again!"

"Release the blade, Alicent!" Otto Hightower said, to no avail.

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

"Exhausting, wasn't it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness," Rhaenyra spat, her voice lowering, "But now they see you as you are."

Alicent lunged forward, the blade coming down with her. Both women stumbled backward, Rhaenyra into Corlys' arms and Alicent into Viserys'.

There was silence as blood trickled down Rhaenyra's arm from where Alicent sliced her. The blade fell from Alicent's hand as she saw the damage she had done. Myra inched forward, gently grabbing onto Rhaenyra's other arm to serve as some sort of support.

That was when she saw Aemond, who had stood from his chair. They stared at each other for a few moments, before he looked at Alicent.

"Do not mourn me, Mother," Aemond told her, "It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon."

If it was possible, the room grew even more quiet. Rhaenyra looked terrified.

"This proceeding is at an end!" Viserys proclaimed, for all the room to hear.

Rhaenyra pulled her children close. Daemon came over to them, standing behind Myra and Luke. Aemond walked over to his mother, leaning against her shoulder. Ser Criston picked up the fallen blade.

Aemond looked to Myra. They both stared at each other, and the damage each of them had done. There had only been a handful of times when Myra had not been able to tell what Aemond was feeling based on the expression on his face, this being one of them. Myra wondered if she would ever be able to again.

•⋅•⋅•

Myra could not find sleep.

How could she? After everything, she found her mind racing. The future ahead of her was unclear, and it terrified her.

As the sun began to peek over the horizon line, Myra found the need to leave her chambers and wander. Even though this had ended terribly only a few hours before, she had no intention of confronting anyone or even seeing anyone.

She peeked her head into the corridor and saw one Kingsguard member, walking up and down the hall. He was incredibly easy to slip past, so easy that it made her wonder if the Kingsguard had learned anything from what had transpired.

There was no Godswood or gardens in Driftmark, so she went to one of the many balconies so that she could stare out at the sea. It was quite peaceful, and the sound of water hitting the shore helped put her mind at ease.

That was, until, Myra heard a noise behind her. She was expecting someone from the Kingsguard there to catch her and was surprised to see Aemond instead. She felt a confusing mix of terrified and delighted.

"What are you doing here?" Myra asked.

"I couldn't sleep," he said, leaning against the doorway.

"Neither could I," she told him.

They stood in silence. Myra looked at her feet, then back out to the sea.

"I am not sure if I hate you or not," she admitted, unable to look back at him, "I don't want to, I know that, but I can never forgive you."

"I am not sure either," Aemond replied, "Had you not brought the blade, I would still have my eye."

"You would still have your eye had you not tried to murder Jacaerys," Myra seethed.

"He came at me with that blade!"

"You held a rock over Lucerys' head while you choked him and called us bastards!"

"Us?"

Myra sighed, looking down. She still couldn't see the rocky shore.

She could hear Aemond walking up behind her, "I suppose things will never be the same again."

"I suppose not," Myra agreed. They no longer shared the pain of not having a dragon. If things had been different, that wouldn't have mattered. They still would've been bonded together, had it not been for the events that occurred that night.

"Can we pretend it will be? For a little while?" Aemond asked, "I want to watch the sun rise."

Myra turned back to look at him. The stitches went halfway up his forehead and halfway down his cheek.

A sad smile formed on her face, "We can pretend for a little while."

And so, for a little while, they pretended that the night had not happened. They pretended that things were the same as they had been yesterday morning. They pretended that they were in the Godswood, sitting under the weirwood tree. He held her hand, and she held his.

When the sun rose and the castle began to wake, Myra and Aemond headed back inside and went their separate ways without even saying goodbye.

────── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──────

WRITTEN: july 2024
EDITED: july 2024
WORDS: 7,082

AUTHOR'S NOTE! so this chapter is the longest yet by far but i like where it starts and ends, it just took me awhile to get there.

one thing i want to talk about is how rhaenyra handles the bastard accusations. she chooses to say that all of her children are being accused of being bastards even though it's just jace, luke, and joffrey. it's just another way of holding a united front sort of and a way to deny the truth, and myra will do it later too.

i hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! i'm very proud of it and this entire fic so far :)