Rhaenyra was dead.

Her line and all it stood for was gone and the ashes were scatter in the wind and sea surrounding Dragonstone. Only three remained. Viserys, lost across the sea in Essos some place unattainable; Aegon the Younger held captive in the Red Keep, but granted his freedom within its walls, not that the boy did anything but stare blankly.

And you, Rhaenyra's one and only daughter, twin to Jacaerys.

Aegon, with his council's urgings, took you to wife, uniting the Blacks and Greens in a long awaited pairing, one that had been purposed longer before the Dance, when you were children. Though that never came to be.

Burned and scarred, Aegon knew there would be no intimacy, no heirs or love between the two of you, but he was not cruel. No, he had no energy to be cruel to you.

You were all that remained of your house, two sides of the same coin, and your little counterparts; Aegon the younger, and Princess Jaehaera, Aegon's daughter.

The girl had been near silent since the death of her mother. Jaehaera kept to herself most days, but she found you and Egg in the library one day, and began to sit in on your lessons.

It was here that she grew closer to you, becoming a small pale shadow at your skirts. A small pale shadow that sat with you in your chambers the day of a revolt.

Aegon had been in council when the commotion began. Knights and smallfolk infiltrating the Keep, screams and blood...By the time it was over, or so he thought, he was rushing, his guards carrying his litter to your chambers, finding the door ajar. Without thinking, with an unfamiliar fear for your safety in his chest, he stumbled into the chamber.

You stood over the disfigured body of a rather large man, your hair askew, and dress torn at the bodice. In your hand lay a candlestick, coated in blood from the mans head.

Aegon approached cautiously, like a wounded animal, looking around for his daughter, "{{user}}, you can let go..."

His scarred hand came to meet yours over the blood soaked weapon gently taking it.