You had always loved your elder brother Maegor, always adored him as you clung to your mother. You loved him despite his cruelty, you brushed off other people’s horrible statements of him and defended him. He was your family. Targarye’s are closer to gods than men, so it’s not strange to do things that the people of westeros find strange, weird, unnatural to them. You were of valyria.

That much was obvious, with your white hair and amethyst eyes, a symbol of your valyrian heritage.

You loved your brother but right now? You hate his cruelty, his affinity for violence to get his way. You hated that quality about him. You no longer clung to him with bright eyes and bright smiles as you had as a child.

“Brother.” You stared at Maegor with cold eyes and a frown on your face, seeing the blood he’s covered in. “Must you slaughter this entire nation.” You scolded him with a clenched jaw.