FORBIDDEN
Aerion Targaryen / sibling x OC +SirDunkin
C h a p t e r 1 : BOUND
Pick a chapter name
Expectation
Bound
They said Vaenora had been quick with her letters almost from the cradle. She scarcely remembered a time before the High Valyrian — only her uncles voice, guiding her through the old words.
She had always favored him, and in truth was much like him... He was a measured man, slow to anger & boast—unlike her father. Baelor preferred histories, laws, and the careful keeping of peace. Vaenora learned early to sit quiet at his side and listen.
"The blood of the dragon is a gift," he told her once. "But gifts may be misused." She had nodded then, young and untroubled, not understanding the weight behind the words.
Similar to her siblings, her hair was pale as moonlight. Her eyes blue, but her left held a strange, cat-sharp cast. It was something the smallfolk loved to whisper about…
Vaenora Dragon-eye, most called her. Others believed she was a bad omen. A foreshadowing of what was yet to come…
Veanora had been self-conscious of it once, when she was younger and more easily stung by careless talk.
Her brother, Aerion had only laughed when she told him. “It proves it," he'd said. "You see? We are closer to the dragons than the rest of them."
In those days, she had almost believed him.
They had been close as children — nearly inseparable. Together they devoured every dusty tale of old Valyria, whispering over half-burned histories & acting out grand conquests in the courtyard. Venora always chose a Knight. Aerion, more often than not, played the dragon.
Sometimes they would lie beneath the old tree in the inner yard, staring up through the leaves as if the sky might split open for them.
"They still exist," Aerion whispered once.
Vaenora turned her head against the grass. "How can you be so certain?"
"I feel it."
He was watching her when he said it, a strange, stern glimmer in his eyes — in a way that made something small and quiet shift in her chest.
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
The sudden noise jolted her, pulling her from her thoughts. "Come in," she called after a moment.
Finnick, one of her father's men, stepped inside.
"Princess," he said, bowing.
"Your family have returned." .
________________________
Vaenora made herself decent, smoothing her hair and straightening her gown. Excitement thrummed through her — it felt like ages since she had seen them.
Voices & laughter spilled from the other side of the door, mingling with the soft glow of the fireplace beneath it. Her stomach tightened. Nerves prickled along her spine. Before she could steady herself, Finnick swung the door open.
"Nora!"
Egg came running, full of energy and delight. Immediately she bends down, lightly cupping his soft little face. "Look at you!" She gasps in delight. "You've grown."
"He hasn't grown an inch!" Dearon protests, holding a goblet of wine. She wasn’t surprised, but still glanced over it with a faint frown.
Then a soft huff drew her eyes left.
She straightened at the sight. "Aerion," she said, smiling.
But the moment his gaze landed on her, the smile faltered.
"Sister." He acknowledged, standing from his chair. His eyes lingering a beat longer than necessary; assessing her. "You're... different," he said quietly, the words casual, but weighted with something unspoken.
The boy she had known, was gone. Vaenora forced her eyes away, hiding the flutter of unease she could not yet name.
Venora eyes then settle onto Egg; who watched with a quiet, instinctive concern.
Reaching over she runs her hand through his locks. "I suppose time changes us all," she said lightly, her voice steady. "Some more than others, it seems..."
Vaenora and Egg moved forward, passing Aerion.
Causing his gaze to linger on the curve of her back for a fraction too long. Baelor noticed, his brow tightening ever so slightly — a quiet, private worry that he did not voice.
She reached her father and asked gently, "How's Aemon faring?"
Maekar smiled, eyes softening. "So far, well. This is what he has wanted for years." He glanced at Vaenora with a faint, knowing look. "The Citadel suits him. Knowledge has always been his path, though it takes him far from us."
"And what of you?" Vaenora asked, smiling down toward her youngest brother.
"I... fare well," he muttered.
"Now the boy has no one to indulge his knightly fantasies," Aerion amusedly comments, smirking over his goblet.
"I do not," Egg protested, flustered.
Vaenora's gaze flicked to Aerion, calm and deliberate. "If I recall correctly, brother, you and I also engaged in the art of dragon-riding in our youth."
Aerion's eyes rolled. "Ah, yes. How could I forget?"
Venora smiled, taking a seat beside her father.
"So do not belittle it." Venora comments, despite the weight of his gaze.
Her father leaned back slightly in his chair, studying his daughter with that familiar, weighing gaze. "Well then," he said at last, voice roughened by travel and wine. "How has my daughter been while we were away?"
Before Vaenora could answer, her uncle spoke smoothly from across the hearth.
"Vaenora has been a delight," he said, mild and composed. "Diligent with her studies. Quite taken with the histories."
Maekar huffed.
"A delight," he repeated, one brow lifting. "Gods be good. I was afraid you'd tell me she'd taken to correcting the maesters."
There was the faintest edge of dry humor in it...
Baelor's mouth twitched.
"She is spirited," he allowed evenly. "But not unruly."
Maekar gave a low grunt, swirling the wine in his cup.
"Well. So long as she remembers she is a princess first and a scholar second."
Across the room, Aerion's mouth curved faintly.
Before the silence could stretch thin, Baelor continued. "She and Valarr have made particularly good use of the time," he said, folding his hands loosely before him. "They seem to have developed... an appreciation for one another's company."
It was spoken lightly. But the meaning slid into the room like a knife between ribs. Vaenora could feel the heat rise faintly at the back of her neck.
Across the chamber—Aerion's head snapped toward his cousin.
Slow.
Cutting.
Vaenora felt the air tighten, but her cousin did not startle...
He only set his goblet down with quiet care, as though he had expected the moment to come. "I have enjoyed my cousin's company greatly," he said evenly.
"She is... exceptional." He informs Maekar.
Aerion's fingers curled against the arm of his chair at the sound of his cousins words. But he smiles past his irritation..
"No wonder you were so pleased to take Vaenora under your wing, Uncle," Aerion insinuates.
Across the hearth, Maekar turned his head slowly toward Baelor. Not in anger; at least not yet.
Baelor did not bristle.
Did not rise.
"This was not arranged in the way you imply, Aerion," Baelor said evenly. Then turning his gaze fully to meet his brother's eyes. "But," he continued, intelligent and deliberate, "it is not without merit."
The room stilled further.
"A strengthened bond between our branches of the family would benefit us all," He states. "It keeps blood close to blood. In times such as these, that is rarely a mistake."
The words settled heavily, but Aerion is quick to erase it from his father's mind.
"Surely there is no need to decide such things too quickly. Not when she has only just returned to us."
Maekar's gaze lingered on his son in thought. He did not reply immediately, but the slow tightening of his jaw betrayed that Aerion's words had landed.
Maekar shook his head at Baelor, slow and deliberate. "We wait. " He said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.