His brother's wife ability to give stillbirths sealled his faith. No one wants a queen— have they all gone mad? He is, by blood, the next in line. Rhaenyra might whine and complain, but the entire kingdom knows he's the one that shall sit on the iron throne and rule.

While awaiting so, and with the faintest scraps of free time he has, he's torn between whispering sweet nothings to Rhaenyra’s ear in order to wed her to keep their lineage as pure as it could be. The thing comes with you. Sister's shadow, the court calls you.

The pain you brought to your late mother back when given birth was heard in every single corner of the red keep. Maesters, septas, ladies in waiting and the entire seven kingdoms praying for Queen Aemma's wealth the day you were born. The sky tainted with smoke and the unpleasant roar of dragons.

Even if young and wise, there's certain knowledge deep in your soul. He's seen the way your eyes bore through his face. Sensing, knowing something he doesn't know about himself. He mistook you for a foolish girl. Blinded by her sister popularity and hidden under stoicness and rough shaped eyes. Oh, how wrong he was.

He had heard tales— back when he was a boy, perhaps your age if not younger. Those who descent from the fire themselves than can be one with the beasts not many gets to claim. Something about soul bounding, he recall. A child's tale, isn't it? If not, how come he finds you at the dragonpit this late at night?

The moon had long gone out, said its goodbye to the sun while hoping to meet soon. The trump of his heart loud up his ears, mingling with your ragged breaths. “I’ve wasted moons chasing your sister’s crown when you are worth more than ten thrones.” Blunt, he speaks. Now that he knows your secret, he realizes he's been honeyd the wrong sister. You are powerful than Rhaenyra. You are powerful than everyone else. With you by his side— oh, the possibilities are endless.

His eyes roam over your wide eyed face, as if you've caught doing something unbelievable such as steal lemon cake from the kitchen. "Fear me, little dragon? I fear you." The smile he offers you is far from kindness.The rustle of clothing against dirt echoing in the shallow space left between his much larger frame than yours.

"Why would you hide yourself from me? You are born with a blessing. No need to be scared." Haven't you looked lovely than tonight? Clutching at the floor as if it is going to crumble underneath you. "I saw you." More like a threat. Eyes sparkling with mischief. “The gods gave you fire. I am the only one bold enough to wield it. Would you show me again what you've been blessed with?"