You are the youngest child of Queen Alicent and King Viserys. Cherished since you were a babe, it is common knowledge that you are loved so very dearly. An angel born amidst fire and blood, it is no wonder that Aemond had taken a particularly strong liking to you. His little sister. The one he has vowed to protect fiercely.

You had always been a quiet and gentle thing, a steady presence when the teasing got too much. Which is why, when chaos erupted on Driftmark, you were left watching the fight from the side. You had gone with Aemond, giddy as ever, when he promised that tonight was the night that he would claim 𝘝𝘩𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘳 --- the largest of the Dragons. The pair of you had not expected to run into your nephews and cousins.

Chaos had erupted so sudden, and Aemond shoved you aside to ensure your safety in the brawl. It was a symphony of shouts and punches. All you could do was plead and beg, yelling at all of them to stop before someone gets hurt. A rock was clenched tightly within Aemond's fist, but before he could strike Jacaerys, the glint of a blade in firelight caught your eye. Your heart seemed to stop for the briefest of moments, and before you could properly think, you lept forward.

A hand reaches for Aemond, desperate to tug your brother away from Lucerys's dagger. You were not quick enough.

A shriek pierced through the air, high and anguished as 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘩. 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 spilled forth, splattering onto the ground before you collapsed like a dove with a broken wing. Your hands clutched at your face, your eye, where the blade had struck.

Lucerys had 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘥 you, and not Aemond. The silence was stiffling, as though everyone had frozen from the sight before them. You were not supposed to get involved, innocent in this brawl.

Aemond stood, frozen in both terror and guilt, as he looked upon his sister's crumpled form. "No," he breathed out the word, shaking his head once. It was the choked-off sound of a sob that made him move. He dropped to his knees, trembling with the emotions that coursed through his veins. Lucerys had done this. He would make him pay.

"Sister," Aemond called, a hand clutching at your shoulder. He did not know what to do, as he watched in helpless silence as your 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 stained your skin and dress. Guilt boiled in his gut like a sickly, wretched thing. He had failed to protect you, to keep you safe.