A SWIFT CUT WAS presented to Vaemond's head, cutting it diagonally. Daemon's blade, Dark Sister had done the job. Splatters of blood fell onto Visenya's cheeks, the disfigured head rolled close to her feet. She did not gasp, her eyes gleamed, in fact. It had been long since blood had been shed. And whatever malignant magic woven into her rotten blood had been satisfied with the sacrifice. The jaw of Vaemond's corpse had been untouched, his tongue waving to Visenya.
"He can keep his tongue." Prince Daemon smiled proudly. He had always been the one to cause the most trouble in the family.
The atmosphere was heavy, blood stained the Throne Room. The king began to moan in delirium and soon was taken away, Visenya on toll with the maesters.
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There was something utterly calming in watching as the blades met cold flesh. As the stench filled the air of the candle-lit basement. Visenya watched as the Silent Sisters work; it was haven, for they could not bother her with their tongues.
"Princess Visenya." The half familiar voice of Princess Rhaenys called to her, halting by the youngest's side.
"Princess Rhaenys." The teen did not look at the woman.
"It is surprising for a young woman such as yourself to be here." Rhaenys admitted, the muffled sound of flesh opening was a comfort to both Targaryen ears.
"I come from time to time, had even contemplated becoming a Silent Sister, mayhaps a Septa. But I cannot." Visenya responded, her voice shushed as she respected the dead.
"Still, should you be not attending the feast?"
In incredulous ways, the family feast could not have felt more awkward. Clad in emerald green, the color of her mother, Visenya spoke in hushed whispers with her siblings. She could feel the back of her head burning, she knew he was staring.
Though the chatter died down when the doors of the dining hall opened. Viserys was carried in a chair by the Kingsguard and they all bowed their heads to their king. Taking their place in their respective chairs, Visenya could not ignore the feeling of her shoulder being brushed against Jace's. She wished to recoil, her skin crawled beneath the silk of her dress.
To her left sat Aegon, she did not know which was worse, A rapist or a bastard.
"How good it is...to see you all tonight. Together." The king announced with a weak smile as he looked at both the queen and his first daughter. Sitting between broken friendships and dreams. His delirium made him blind for he could not acknowledge the animosity and discomfort between the two divided sides of the Valyrian bloodlines.
"Prayer before we begin?" Alicent, ever the religious suggested. Visenya closed her eyes obediently, she had her own pretenses to keep; especially amongst her biggest foes, those who sat by her side.
"May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest." Alicent then finished.
Visenya took a sip from her wine, breathing heavily as the image of Vaemond's demise filled her with a satisfaction that scared some superficial part of her.
"This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena." Jacaerys turned to look at Visenya, who averted her gaze towards a maid. "...further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast, to the young princess and their betrothed." And so goblets were raised to appease the king as the family smiled at their patriarch.
"Hear, hear!" They'd cheer.
"Well done, Jace. You'll finally get to lie with a woman." Aegon Targaryen teased as he leaned closer to Visenya. Jace clenched his jaw but did not entertain Aegon.
"Let us toast as well Prince Lucerys, the future Lord of the Tides." and yet again they cheered.
"You do know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle, where to put your cock and all that." Aegon would add in a low tone. Visenya bowed her head to conceal her snort, Aegon was pleased with his sister's reaction.
"Let it be, cousin." Baela whispered to Jace, the scarred princess's eye twitched.
"You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before the ladies." Jacaerys advised, ever the pragmatic.
King Viserys rose from his seat. "It gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world...yet grown so distant from each other, in the years past." The sickle man bowed his head, unbuckling his golden mask. Revealing what he had became, what his illness took from him. A broken man was revealed to all.
"My own face...is no longer a handsome one, if indeed it ever was. But tonight, I wish you to see me, as I am. Not just a king, but your father, your brother, your husband, and your grandsire. Who may not it seems, walk much longer among you. Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances!" The king banged his fist on the table, "If not for the sake of the crown...then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly!" Viserys sighed, his heart ached but not from the leprosy but nearly twenty years of rising quarrels and animosity between the two sides of the family.
But Visenya could not. She was incapable of letting go.
She could not grant her father his final wish for all she'd known was hatred. All the whispers and taunting. Her own mind was shattered with it.
It did not matter when she could feel Jace's eyes constantly on her. When Baela sat by his side as a potential bride.
Visenya could hear her older brother's buzzing words to the lady Baela. She could hear Jace's abrupt standing when his arm brushed against her violently. And the knucles that reverberated through the table.
It was clear Viserys words lay deaf to the young royals ears, not just Visenya's.
"To prince Aegon and prince Aemond," Jacaerys raised his glass, "we've not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles."
And so it was Helaena who stood, "I would like to toast Baela and Rhaena, and of course, my dear sister. They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad. Mostly he just ignores you...except sometimes when he's in a good mood." Visenya offered her sister a sympathetic smile. She had seen first hand how Aemond treated Helaena, many times he ignored her to spend time with Visenyaโand the girl felt guilt now.
But Visenya found solace in her words. She did hope Aegon would ignore her, that was if she did not dispose of him if the occasion arised. She hoped her dear older brother would fall on his cups night after night. She could never forgive him, nor could she find it in herself to forgive her mother for her actions in concealing what Aegon had done to the young servant she could not recall the name.
"Let us have some music." The king ushered and the bards stringed their instruments along in a pleasing melody.
Jacaerys, perhaps feeling a bit of guilt, or sympathy extended his hands to Helaena. An invitation to dance.
The House of the Dragon seemed happy, for once. They spoke and laughed and danced about. "Shall we dance?" Aegon leaned his head towards Visenya.
"I think I shall dance with Aemond instead." She replied coldly.
The taller sighed, standing up without a word as he took her arm in his. "I am surprised, sister. I believed you to be vexed with me." He whispered, twirling Visenya around.
"At this moment I cannot decide who I am most underwhelmingly annoyed with the most. Though I suppose I am able to tolerate you when you do not spew nonsense with your lips." The two met, their faces close.
"Still upset about my little jest, I see." Aemond cocked his lips into a smirk before catching Helaena on his grasp as Jacaerys grabbed Visenya's hand.
"It has been long since we spoke, princess Visenya." Jacaerys greeted with a nod,
"It has? I have not noticed." The princess suppressed an eye-roll for the sake of her family behind him.
"I suppose you're happy. Your brother shall now be the heir of Driftmark, you are betrothed to wonderful lady Baelaโ"
"Potentially."
Visenya scoffed, "Potentially." She corrected herself.
"And you find yourself right. I am happy, Baela is kind, fierce, strong. She does not hide between masks, nor does she worry about what others might say of her." Jacaerys raised an eyebrow defiantly.
"She is a lady, not a princess. She has not to worry so much." Visenya retorted, a small smile quirking up her cheeks.
The dance ended soon when the Kingsguard came to retrieve the coughing king. When the roasted head of a pig was served, Lucerys smirked at Aemond.
The latter, with a punch to the table raised his goblet soon after. "Final tribute. To the health of my nephews, Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise..." There it was, that pregnant pause that exuded with suspense.
"Strong."
"Aemond." Alicent swallowed.
"Come, let us drain our cups to these three...Strong boys." He smirked.
Visenya wanted to laugh, it was mayhaps the cleverest of insults. Yet she held back for stability.
"I dare you to say that again!" Jacaerys shouted in front of Visenya, his hands closing into hard knuckled fists as he walked closer to Aemond.
"Why? 'Twas only a compliment. Do you not see yourself strong?"
It happened fast. A punch delivered to Aemond's hard jaw. Lucery's head being banged against the table as his neck was hold by Aegon. The reprimand of worried mothers. Jace fell to the floor before the two bastars princes were held by the red cloaked knights.
Princess Visenya drowned her cup in a second, finally the entertainment had commenced. But of course, it all ended soon when the bastards and the treacherous ladies were sent to their quarters.
Visenya witnessed the rebirth of a long buried friendship between her mother and half-sister. Eyes glancing at her grandfather who did not seem amused.
"Goodnight, grandsire. Sister..." Visenya curtisied.
She had much else to do in her quarters than witnessing this.
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weak ass chapter.
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