A MOCKING BIRD

AEGON

A small hummingbird with its continuous fluttering wings that were formed by exotic orange, blue and fiery red feathers, spiraled and spun in a waving motion around a delicate golden flower. It was a heartwarming sight. He could watch it dance all day without blinking his eyelids. Just like his dragon who was lazily monitoring the exotic little bird through his molten black orbs, restraining himself to stop huffing out smoke just to not disturb that tiny creature.

Aegon loved the fragrance of flowers. He loved those tiny birds. He loved the fierce need in their little soul to survive amongst deadly dragons like his Black Dread. It wouldn't take a second for the little hummingbird to turn into ash if he would ask Balerion to whisper a cough. The bird was very well aware of it. In an anticipated fear, it's fluttered wings to hoist it up to the sky, every now and again, before it gained the courage to lower itself to suckle the honey. Such should be the fear for a dragon. As much as he adored its fierceness he enjoyed seeing it cower with dread before the power of the Black Dread.

"You have been insulting our hosts," Visenya called from behind. Sure, he was. When he had no idea to pluck out the truth from these slave mongers, the least merriment was to insult them in their own hall. "Aegon!" Visenya's voice dreaded with worry.

"How do you want me to embrace their hospitality, Visenya?" His gaze still steered towards his dragon and the little hummingbird. "By sleeping with the bed slaves they are offering?" He asked nonchalantly. Aegon wouldn't dare to ask these same questions to Rhaenys. His Rhaenys was gentle of heart. Even the slightest hint of other women in his bed would hurt her. Visenya could bare a few harsh realities of the world. "Or by trusting their lies and tucking my tail to leave towards Dragonstone?"

"How about you don't invoke more suspicions by constantly staring at your dragon? Or try to honor their hospitality by sitting on the dais?" She sneered. It was truly easy to rouse his big sister.

"That's why I bought you with me. Go! Delight them with your humor and make them believe, I am not plotting to burn this shitty town to mud." He simmered with equal insanity. It wasn't that Visenya was wrong. He should be conversing with the Archon of Tyrosh on the dais, politely accepting his so-called feigned hospitality. All throughout these bleeding years, Aegon had stood with these strange slavers, against the great Volantis, hoping day after day to find a chance to enter their domain. After all, his house, Targaryen, was the last of the dragon lords. If anyone had the rights to take over the cities, as the last surviving house of Old Valyria, it was all Aegon's by rights.

"Humor?" Visenya chuckled dryly. "I sure enjoy a humor but I don't make one." Her perfect brows lifted up, increasing the creases of her forehead. "Besides, if it was humor, curtsies, songs, and smiles you needed, you should have bought our lovely sister here. Not me!" She bristled.

Aegon flexed his fingers tight, a sudden flood of regret flushing his soul, lighting it with anger and remorse. He should have taken Rhaenys. She enjoyed being on her dragon, up in the air more than residing inside the stone castle. She would have made everything easy for him. Had it been Rhaenys in Visenya's stead, she would have consoled him, soothed his pain, eased his tension. Visenya was everything Rhaenys wasn't. Times like this, when his sisters would test his patience, he truly regretted marrying all of them.

"Oh, I forgot! You are punishing your favored wife. Your little Rhaenys. Aren't you?" Visenya gave a tooth full smile, her instant dark amusement spreading along her perfect lips. There was nothing short of perfection in both of his trueborn sisters. Even darkness played its rueful dance in its fullest trance on Visenya's perfect purple orbs. A true Valyrian trait. Right and wrong, good and bad, truth and lie, everything was done to perfection in his line of blood. Even he wasn't an exception. Perhaps it was why he sought for imperfection. He sought for the woman he should have never pursued. The perfect little imperfection of his well-honored life. "Well, the court humor in DragonStone is that you fucked your favored wife on your wedding night with the simpleton. Should I share that harmless humor with the Archon on the dais? He has been inquiring about your new wife, after all, ever since we have set foot."

This was the exact reason why he hated Visenya. She spat the harsh realities to his face, adding salt to his injury. She wouldn't care about his trail. She wouldn't bother to look at his plight. She was the same woman who threw him down to mud, beat him till his nose had broken and rib had cracked because Father had deemed to pass down Blackfyre to him over her when they were young. Just to convince her wrath, for the first time, in the history of House Targaryen, the other Valyrian sword was given to her hand, which naturally obtained her mockery name. She deserved the sword. True. But there were instances when he wanted her to agree with him, rather than fuck him over behind his back, just because she would decide what was right for the house. It was always a war of words and swords with Visenya. Just like now…

The siblings conducted a staring contest, to figure who would win out the battle of glaring. He wouldn't answer for such insolent comments passed by random people at court. What was Visenya expecting? To apologize? It was her suggestion that had led them to this precarious mishap. Had she not interfered and let him take care of Irina, in the way he had known best, there wouldn't be such troubles. It was all her tasteless and senseless ideas.

Just when Visenya opened her lips, a girl holding a tray of wine and ales, along with a flute of milk of the poppy — an addiction for invisible cures in body, approached them both. Visenya instantly sneered, evidently expressing her dis likeness to the young maid. He should have bought Rhaenys. Rhaenys would have milked every single secret of the Tyrosh Lord, out from the maid, rather than trying to scare the girl with dragon claws like Visenya. Pulling whatever small smile that was possible to draw out from his mouth, Aegon forcefully curved his lips, picking the wine cup and directing his gaze towards the dais where the fat Archon raised his own golden cup in merriment.

The joyous celebration increased an inch higher when the court singer, in his bastard Valyrian tongue, raised his awful voice a little higher. His ears rung with the pain of hearing and bearing the formal ceremony. How was this in any world would be called a true ceremony? Every maid, servants, dancers, and singers were slaves. Having experienced true power with true, loyal men, to witness such a tasteless ceremony soured him some more.

"My lord" The maid who might not be more than three and ten, a possible Lyseni girl, carrying the same Valyrian trait as his sisters, offered a sultry smile at his direction. For a moment, he failed to anticipate her intention, but the next moment when her thin, boney fingers trailed towards his scaled leather vest, he jerked away. "I have been newly flowered and a gift for your presence by the Archon, my lord. My Maidenhead is yours—"

"Sorry! I have to stop you." He carefully pried her fingers away. "If you haven't observed, this is my lady wife." He pulled Visenya's reluctant waist and his sister rolled her eyes with no bother. "And I have two more for my fancies. I am all set for this lifetime." He drawled with no shame. "You can leave, my lady." He was as courteous as he could be. The girl pouted and refused to leave, begging him to embrace her lustful advance, her hands skimming over his body, while her own body began invading to cover him all over. All the more, he hated the place. Surely, such venomous thoughts were ingrained into her head to please him, at any cost. They were slaves, after all. They were trained. In the last attempt, when the girl stomped her legs, trying to persuade him, Visenya pulled her dirk from the leather belt and the girl ran, shrieking and yelling aloud.

"Is he attempting to drug you and make you bare in bed?" Visenya asked curiously.

"I can't tell for sure, sister. This isn't uncommon amongst these lots. They offer a young slave maiden and even worse drugs to go inebriated all the time."

"But there is something amiss… Isn't it?"

Aegon raised the cup to the Archon and sipped the wine glass. "No matter what, the Tyroshi is incapable to take our dragons. I can bet my life on it. But he knows something and is trying in every way to please us. Just so he won't end up becoming our enemies."

Visenya crossed her hands across her chest and leaned against the door. "He asked about Irina. Over and over. If she appears beautiful — if she would be claiming a dragon — if she would visit his simple abode, ever—"

"He does know something about her then. Something about all the attacks happening in Dragonstone." The Tyroshi lord had relied on Aegon's hands in the past. It was quite difficult for Aegon to believe this man would have sent the raiding party to Dragonstone. Even a mad slaver wouldn't be mad enough to test Aegon's strength.

His skin burned at the possibility of a betrayal from these slavers. He wouldn't be a fool to trust them. Also, he wasn't foolish enough to raise an alarm without concrete proof. He had set upon this journey to figure out the true source from where the raiders came. This was his third and last spot to track. With whatever information Orys had described about the appearance of the raiders, Aegon had first landed on Pentos. A city which was denied with any defense by the Braavos.

Visenya had brooded that the raiders should be the Braavosi, and their strange gods, who still held vengeance against the Old Valyria and its descendants. "We should take one child from each warlord, for good term and peace. If they have no involvement in these continuous attacks, we will not harm the children. Else, we will show our strength."

Aegon had nothing against taking children as hostages. But he also had nothing against the Braavosi. No proof that the raids were happening in their name. No proof that the few Dothrakis, fancy fat Pentoshis, or hair-colored Tyroshis, who came to the raids, were picked by Braavosi to attack his home and his family. Besides, he was aware of the Braavosi's way of attack. They would prefer to give easy, clean death to Aegon through those faceless cunts. Not what Irina had to go through. Even the flash of her bruised face squeezed his chest.

He had one duty. His clenching heart squeezed at the reminder of her broken face and crying soul. He should have protected her and kept her away from harm. He failed. Just like his father always had reminded him, Aegon simply failed and proved his father right. Would his father be showering curses at Aegon, for letting his favored child suffer? Or would Aegon even care if his father cursed him?

The Prince of Pentos had pointed his fingers at the Volantenese slavers.

The same happened with the Lorathis. And now with the Tyroshis.

They all fucking pointed their fingers at the Volantenese Tigers.

Only Aegon had no trust in their words. They were all hiding a truth from him, and he had no idea how to extract it. Threatening with a dragon would only cause long-lasting vengeance, which he didn't want to deal with. What was he supposed to do?

His head began thrumming with the ache of being constantly pushed and pulled. On one side, a thin thread pulled every time raiders landed on Dragonstone to hunt his third wife. On the other side, another thread pulled when his third wife would rather feel happy in being hunted than to live under his protection. Oh, there was also yet another side, where Rhaenys pulled a thread, making the sad, unhappy face of letting her down and choosing another woman. And there was his own conscious side of his head, that kept humming mockery slur words to his face for slowly turning to be a man he always had hated of becoming.

He should have stayed away from her. She had not brought any hope of peace to his heart. She was a human embodiment of his sins. Lust, rage, anger, thirst, and hunger all together had taken the shape of a woman and had tested him.

And he failed. He fucking failed in controlling his wavering heart. He could hear his father laughing again, a sick smile of mockery, with his cunning grin and murderous eyes, a combination of dreadful wrath. 'You are my son, Aegon. And you aren't any different from me.' Lord Aerion's voice dwindled passionately in thin threads inside his head, constantly giving a waking ache, not letting him gain any control of his destiny.

"We won't find any truth here, Aegon." Visenya pulled him out from a swiveling drain that was his head, and he momentarily relaxed, flexing his fingers over and over.

"What do you think we must do?" He asked, in a sincere concern. He respected her judgments, although she would always remain a pain in his ass, Visenya by all means a great warrior.

"We should do what we have been planning on doing since we raised swords and lances." Her eyes glistened with a newfound anticipation and glee. Fingers clutching each other, Visenya leaned forward. "We will take the world, Aegon."

"Ridiculous, Visenya!" He shrilled but paused to take note of the surrounding. "Can't you see how preposterous your idea is? Have you already forgotten what happened to Aurion with his dragons when he entered the domain of Valyria?"

Aegon leaped out from the Hall, towards his dragon, unwilling to become a victim to the spies. As much as he valued her opinion, she had been singing the same old song for years. Yes! It was a natural instinct, as a boy, to conquer the whole world and rule justly. Aegon had fought with his father, much to his father's chagrin, pleading to aid his folly. All those sore years, when his father would laugh at Aegon's face, had not been mopped out of his memory. The wounds were still so fresh in his heart, even after so many years of his father's demise.

'Live with gratitude that I have given you a castle and dragon. And my daughters! Never dream of things that are short of your ability, Aegon.'

His father's burning words still were able to wound him, hurt him, pulling him down a peg every time he climbed a step above.

"Preposterous?" Visenya scowled, her ragged breath burning his skin alive with accusation. "Do you think my suggestion is preposterous?" She walked fast enough to block his path, moving forward. "I gave up everything for this. You promised you would give me a realm to rule, the power to have everything I desired.!"

"Don't do that." He warned, his forehead creased with folds of built-up wrath. He was simmering inside. He had been dealing with all of it alone without letting anyone share the pain. He wouldn't wait to hear once again of how much she gave up and became a martyr. The attack in Dragonstone, the bargaining with his inheritance, the sudden marriage plan, his wedding night with Irina, his father's curse words, wounding Rhaenys's heart, and now, his another failure in figuring out the enemy. He wouldn't deal with Visenya's whining. No, he just couldn't afford to pile up his frustrations and let it stink. "When the time comes, I will-"

"When the time comes?" She scowled and turned her back on him, walking towards Balerion. Vhagar was tied to the southern end of the castle. The dragons didn't like each other, rather fought too much with claws and fire. It was better to be kept at a distance rather than together. Just like him and Visenya. "Tell me Aegon, when the time would come?"

What was this, some game? They needed to plan and proceed. Not declare and decide on the run to burn down cities. There were lives at risk.

She chuckled dryly. "You are a craven, brother! If you fear so much for life, then let me put on the armor, and you can put on a gown, singing songs." Aegon had heard enough from her throughout the journey with patience, when she had kept insisting on taking hostages, burning cities, taking all the cities in the East. Now, though, his anger even had a limit to be sealed. Limit to be controlled. "Tell me when you grow your up some balls. Fucking cunt!" She screamed.

His blood boiled in rage. He didn't realize how or when his fist curled around the hilt of his long sword. The next breathing second, he placed the burning black steel against his sister's unprotected neck. Even for the faintest touch, Blackfyre was capable of drawing blood. With him pressing it to her neck, she was bleeding profusely, wetting her black armor red, decorating it with his house color.

"How many times will you undermine me, Visenya?" He asked with gritted teeth, not bothering that the Tyroshi guards began surrounding them and watch them play. "I am so sick and tired of your games. Do you want to test if I am man enough? Raise your sword. I will prove it to you." He bellowed while his face heated so easily. He needed to fight and let out all his buried anger. He desired she would raise her sword, so he could finally feel being the one in control and not be always undermined in all decisions.

But she didn't.

Glancing to the sides, observing the gathered guards, she made a forced smile, just so they would not keep observing what the siblings were ranting about. He truly didn't care what others would perceive. In fact, he never cared about what others would think of him. He would have given anything to call for a duel, so he could lay down his burning rage on his sword, and find a momentary relief in the brawling match. He hadn't been able to fight with Rhaenys. Not when she'd cried till her eyes went red. He couldn't find in his heart to yell at her for being mean and harsh to their own sister. If he had hurt Rhaenys, he was well aware that he would end up hurting himself. He loved her that much.

Not that he was any better than Rhaenys. He should have stayed that night away. Or climbed on his dragon to his own little wooden house. Or that he could have spoken with Orys about his plan. He hadn't thought of seeking Rhaenys as how the household had slandered. He only left to his chamber after having a fallback with Irina.

Aegon's pride had been so much bruised when Irina had claimed she had nothing to do with him later that night. He could have demanded her to comply with him. He was the man. He was the husband. And it was his rights. But he'd spared her, even when his cock had urged his lust to take her in all the ways he had been fantasizing. He had given her everything she sought. Didn't he? He had even been so much gentle with her, accounting for what had happened to her by the Dothraki savage. He had been caring and warm, even when she had turned him down and defied every order of his, as though she had the rights of it.

With all those insults in heart, when Rhaenys had kept persuading him, he was more than pleasured to comply with her. Yes, he was shameless that he hadn't thought about how others would twist this information and hurt Irina. He had no care for the opinions of the world. Not that he had completely forgiven Rhaenys. By all means, he had condemned her for tormenting their little sister with such derogatory remarks. And he had left with Visenya, leaving the castle duties to Rhaenys, sending a missive to Orys to take care of Irina.

He had hoped on having distance with them both. The three were hurting each other. Especially, he had hurt Rhaenys in the process of taking what he had desired. Rhaenys's harsh words to Irina were just a cry for help. He had wounded Rhaenys by marrying Irina, and she had expressed that pain by lashing at their half-sister. He had understood. It was important for him to re-evaluate his own decisions and find a balance where he could make his family not become a laughingstock. And he was well aware of his own selfish heart, which would seek Orys's holdfast to have his way with Irina if he had stayed consoling Rhaenys.

The monstrous, ugly truth was that he had no control when it came to that inviting creature. The woman's skin was made of sin, taunting him, teasing him, and aching his loins, even at the faintest memory of her cheeky smile. He wouldn't have stopped himself from seeking her bed, at the night's cloak. When morning would come, his sanity might return, but not in the covers of darkness. He would have taken her as his cock wished to wander on her body, even if she would not will herself to give him. What could she do? She is all mine. I gave her everything that even their sire denied providing and cared for her. She should be grateful and worship me for everything that I have granted. Every freaking inch of hers is mine by rights, now. That is all mattered to him.

Not that his journey was anywhere close to victory. Visenya had a grain of truth to her displeasure of his failure. He had taken an oath to burn anyone who had come to touch a woman of his house. The very thought about that incident boiled his putrid blood. She was touched by another man. Someone had tried to touch what belonged to him, and here he was unable to find who in this damned world had the true stomach to challenge him. Backstabbing cunts!

He sheathed his sword back to his scabbard, and walked away, leaving Visenya in her blood-drenched armor at which Balerion keep sneering and snarling. Dragons loved the scent of blood. If Visenya was any better at her skill, as she had claimed, she would rather walk away from the spot.

Every fucking thing was out of control.

Taking a dull spot on the rock nearby, he kept lamenting in his head, about the ill favors of his life, for what seemed hours. When boots crunched down the dry leaves, he knew it was Visenya, but didn't bother to turn and find her.

"You know I have the right of it." She said in a calmer voice.

"You don't. It is exceedingly complex and hard to lay claim to these lands. Father was right when he said I am incapable of it."

"For a man who hated our father all your life, you have taken his words much more seriously."

That he did. Sure. Aegon had never stopped questioning if he was worthy enough to try to acquire the fullest of his powers. There was a constant struggle all the time. "Three dragons against the world, Visenya. It would be much easier to conquer. It is the ruling part I worry about. We won't stay and sustain. Besides, I digress and loathe slavery. There is nothing honorable about it."

"It need not be," Visenya replied calmly, kneeling before him, holding his hand in hers. "I didn't ask you to marry Irina, just so she would keep quiet about inheritance. With her bound to our family, we will have four dragons, Aegon."

He laughed. With crinkles forming near his eyes, he laughed like a moron, throwing away her hands that held his. "You could make a humor." He chortled, turning his gaze at the dragon behind. "Irina is a fickle-minded creature. Do you think she can have control of anything? Father himself thought she would fail to claim a dragon. At best, she would get burned."

"Why do you underestimate her so much?" Visenya asked with a serious tone of a sister, her hands folding against her chest. "Have you forgotten how she acquired control of all the birds of Dragonstone?"

"Control? The magic in her blood was a mishap, and she herself doesn't know when it would stay or when it would leave. She is wrong in her head, Visenya. She doesn't know how to behave like a lady. She carelessly jumps into an ocean living in her head that I would kill. And she chatters with no care of using crass words. Accuses and abuses all high-born women in the court. Not to mention how she challenges a fight that she has no capacity to win. She keeps-"

"Why did you marry her then?" Visenya balked, her eyes drawn together with a distaste.

"I wouldn't have…" He took a deep breath. Had that attack never happened, he would have preferred to keep her locked in that bloody tower. He would have convinced Irina to trust him if he hadn't been kept out on the nights with dark spells when she had been recovering. She had gone far out of his reach, by the time she came out of Visenya's chambers. He couldn't make her stay or make her trust him thereafter. "If you hadn't interfered, I would have found other ways."

"You mean, like getting her with your bastard, and keep her locked in that tower." Visenya bristled. Suddenly guilt washed over him, accusing him with fat fingers for doing the things he had done before his marriage with her. "Seven Hells, Aegon!" Visenya shook her head, voice lacing with disgust and poison. "What madness has got into your head?"

"It isn't like that. It is…" He hesitated, after all, Visenya was his big sister and wife, for namesake. "I would have controlled her, Visenya. She was under my control."

"With your lies…" Visenya yelled. "I don't know who among the both of you is crueler to that child. How many times, have I warned you about her being abused by Rhaenys's ladies? If you had shown little kindness…"

"Kindness?" Aegon raised from the rock where he had sat down. He wouldn't be explaining how Irina deserved no kindness from his family. "I have agreed to meet all her whims. And I married her, even when no lords in Dragonstone would want nothing to do with her. She would have been discarded in this world if not for my kindness. She would have been pelted with stones for her savage skills, if not for my kindness. I have shown enough kindness to her, Visenya. I took care of her. I provided her with everything she asked for. Yet, she kept wanting more and more. I will never give her a dragon."

Visenya's lips parted in shock by his confession, while her eyes remained with a puzzled amusement. "You are truly a deranged fucked up moron. I wonder if our mother would be so overjoyed to look how you have grown up to be like she was when you were born."

Striking hard and heavy down to his chest, the remainder of his mother wiped out every single problem in his memory. He fell silent. For a momentary second, every sound dulled. Visenya was indeed murmuring something, but he didn't care. He could even now taste his mother's last smile. If he had a chance to visit the past…

"Aegon!" Visenya screamed, her hands holding his shoulder. "Did you hear what I told?" He shook his head, uninterested. "Irina is a boon to us, Aegon. Listen to me! With her, we can take anything we want. Show her some care. True care. Give her a dragon and pacify her. She will understand and work for our cause."

"She will keep demanding for more." Aegon merely stated, with no enthusiasm. "It is in her blood to crave for more. She won't stop with what I provide. If you let her realize her true power, she won't shy away from executing us all and take what she desires."

"Is that what you worry about?" Visenya momentarily analyzed his words before raising her chin up to see the sky. There was something odd and mysterious, with how the clouds darkened. Would it be raining? He had no plans on staying here anymore. He could make his black dread high above the clouds, momentarily, and fly to his wooden house. "Give her a child and give her a purpose to never go against our family."

"A child?" Aegon was alerted now. The gravity of the word felt strange on his tongue. His father's mocking laughter of his inability to bring a child even when he had two wives spun again in his head.

"You realize the need of a child. Don't you?"

Combing his fingers through his silken hair, he refused to face the truth. He had known and eagerly expected every time Rhaenys would come to him with a smile. Not that he had intended to hurt her. He just realized it hadn't happened in the last seven years. He had lost hopes now that it would ever happen.

"She is young, healthy, and fertile, Aegon."

"It isn't Rhaenys's fault. She is also young and fertile. It could be my own fault." Aegon countered. He would have never bothered to express this to anyone. There were certain things that a man should never admit. Some strange feeling in him allowed him to admit to Visenya. The sister who he kept fighting and chasing and cursing was the only one to understand the depth of his soul. He trusted her.

"Listen to me. They both are different. You should have to spend your time with her. Give her a child and she would be always in our hold."

Aegon chuckled. "You are determined. Aren't you?" His brow raised, scrutinizing Visenya's intentions. "You want everything and it doesn't matter the cost of it."

"Don't pretend you are any better, brother. At least, I don't hide behind false promises. I am true to myself." Visenya glowered with equal sinister notion. "Fuck her with passion and put a child in her belly. We can have everything."

Aegon's heart blossomed a little at the prospect of a child. A child to extend his line. No matter if he conquered the world or not, he needed it. Although, there were other ways to get a child, as Visenya suggested with her black magic. He hadn't been truly involved and agreed to that arrangement. He wanted his own blood to continue his line, not some half spun dark spell, with no human touch to its heart. Not to mention what price they had to pay.

"One day, we could rule all of these people." Visenya had a proud smirk.

"We won't. I am not interested in slaves and slavers. I value my sanity and my life. You have too much trust in Irina, while I don't. She had lost her magical skill, Visenya. Besides…" He sighed. "I won't use her even if she manages to gain her skills back. Let her be in her small world. If she ever retrieved her abilities and decides to warg into our dragons, then we will be unarmed. Let her be in my control…"

A roar loud as thunder, lightning, broke through the sky, breaking his own voice. His instinct reaction was to reach for Balerion, who stood perched up far away from him, looking up at the clouded sky, threatened by an unknown source.

Aegon felt it. His skin instantly burned at the realization.

"Get your dragon, Aegon!" Visenya screamed, but he didn't move. Tightening his fist close till his knuckles went white, he stared up at the looming giant dragon. He held his wavering thoughts at bay, controlling all the nerves that beat mercilessly to scream at such a grandeur of defiance. Somehow, by some mysterious connection, Balerion enacted his wroth and fury with his roar, loud as the blue dragon, that he himself had never seen once before. "How did she control it?" Visenya asked, curiosity dripping in her voice.

Although, in a rebuttal to his Black Dread's roar, the crystal blue monster gave a loud cry, threatening to swallow the world, and even Aegon himself felt a little shudder surge through his nerves. His warrior sister, Visenya, held her ground, for the first time realizing what kind of dangerous weapon was growing like a weed in his own house. Visenya's throat swallowed a bit, the enormity of holding a cursed dragon that no one in the House Targaryen ever succeeded to own, threatening their power and control.

In Visenya's eyes, for the first time, something more than fascination was drawn. The gravity of power their little sister who was merely six and ten held, undermined both Aegon and Visenya together.

Aegon couldn't get to look at the woman who was born to bring disaster to his hopes. The dragon was huge, dropping two charred meat bodies from the sky, which gave more angst to Aegon's sanity. What in the seven hells happened?

The Archon of Tyrosh, his several hundred guards, began marching next to Aegon. He slightly nudged Visenya to leave, to find her dragon, and mount on it. Without any words, Visenya took her cue and walked towards her dragon, carefully so as to not alert the hosts. If his stupid little sister on dragon-back planned on firing down the castle in Tyrosh, Aegon wouldn't survive. He wouldn't put it past Irina's insanity.

"Has your third wife come to honor my halls, my lord?" The bearded man enquired, although the subtle hint of threat hadn't gone unnoticed by Aegon.

Finally, the blue dragon landed. He was expecting her to arrive. He wanted her to seek and speak with him.

She hadn't.

Aegon had no idea who those bodies were, or how she got her hands on Aegerax, or if she had harmed Rhaenys in her spiteful vengeance. If she had done any harm to Rhaenys, he would not mind killing her. But he remained poised and calm, trying to put on an act to mask his vulnerability. There were so many questions, along with his anger that kept raising every second she denied coming down from her dragon.

A boy with dirty hair, thin and boney structure, not more than eight years old, slid down from the dragon and ran towards Aegon. She had taken yet another stray.

With the boy's tanned skin and boney body, he knew this should be some fisherfolk's son, which brought him the question of how did Orys allow her to make friends when he had clearly warned him not to let her come out from his holdfast.

"Aegon?" The boy, in his spunk, forgetting to mention Aegon's formal titles, extended a small chit of a parchment. The boy was about to flee after delivering the information, but Aegon locked his elbow against the boy's neck, dragging the boy close to his side, so he wouldn't escape before he had got his sister's royal ass down from the dragon.

She didn't come, even then.

And when he raised his head to see her dragon, she was perching atop, in what couldn't be described as a modest dress for even a fisherwoman.

The audacity of this woman to land into some lords' castle and insult him did wonders in his head.

They were at a safe distance. He couldn't make much out of her. It was all about the dragon she held. Comparing to his Black Dread, that blue monster was even more enormous, dreadful, dangerous. At the same time, it was alluring. Even the Tyroshi lord and his guards murmured about the magnificent creature.

Disturbing the sight, Visenya flew on Vhagar, landing and reaching down next and close to the blue monster. Finally, Aegon noticed his third sister climbing down. Small and curvy still, he could not believe she managed to bring that dragon in her control. For what seemed like minutes, both his sisters spoke.

"Marvellous!" The Archon commented, not just at the blue dragon but at his wife, whose unruly brown hair dwindled beautifully in the air. It was the allure of power. She appeared more desirable with her frilly clothes. He wondered what had happened to Trystane. The slightest hint that she had been roaming around in such seductive attire, in Orys's holdfast, where twelve men he had sent been guarding her, gave chills down his bone.

"What is your name?" Aegon asked the boy who was struggling to run.

"Get lost! Irina asked me to be careful with you, monster." The boy with all his stupid manners jumped here and there. "Leave me be else she'll burn you all. Insolent cunts! Seven stupid asses! Mother fucking-"

Aegon allowed the boy to run before he would feel justified enough to cut out the impudent child's tongue. Somehow, he knew the boy mattered something to his little sister.

Moreover, there was this feeling inside, along with a surge of anger, an unknown new perception that kept hammering his heart and skin. He didn't want to name it. He never knew what it was, ever since his birth. For the first time, this feeling bloomed.

It happened in seconds. Visenya walked towards him with a blank face. And the boy who clutched to his little wife's skirt, probably spilled some venom pointing his fingers at Aegon. Finally, his beloved, wife graced Aegon with her ever strong, scornful attitude.

Her gaze was distant. But coldness stemmed from her punishing orbs. With no respect for him, unapologetically, she climbed the dragon, and the lazy-ass mountain lifted her slowly high in the sky.

"Is Rhaenys safe in Dragonstone?" Aegon's lips automatically formed a question in Old Valyrian, not caring if the Tyroshi would learn of his trepidation or not.

Visenya gave an odd look and nodded her head.

He gave out a loud sigh, visibly relaxed by the ordeal.

It was then it dawned, the name of the feeling.

Fear!

He feared her. He fucking feared to take any cause of action that might rouse her mood and tempt her to roast this place. Seven freaking hell! He never thought he would ever fear in his life. But she showed him.

"We need to leave to Dragonstone," Visenya whispered. "Right, now!"

What had she done? Words locked in his throat and his eyes moved to the charred bodies that she had thrown down from her dragon. Who had she murdered now?

Inside the parchment, only two words were written.

Justice served!

I am back with another chapter.

Guest: Thanks for your amazing love for this story. I hope I will do justice with this story.

Jazz: Thanks a lot. I am glad you could see her character development.

Miss Luny: It was our Queen's moment!

You guys are always motivating me. Let me know how you enjoyed this chapter.