unlike his own self, the younger would fall upon the opposite end of his desire. daenerys targaryen had grown to know the walls of dragonstone as if the very lines upon her palms; every corridor, every secret passage, every room, every quarter. her home, whereas the rest of her noble family had grown within the great hall of their ancestors. not to discredit their ancestral seat, for dragonstone held just as much history as the famed red keep, for it was here in which aegon the conqueror and his sisters plotted their conquest of the seven kingdoms— here where they waited, and honed their skill before pursuing their campaign of fire and blood for what was two years.
through story and whisper and word of mouth alone would dany come to hear of the happenings of her father’s land, despite the unfortunate fact that more oft than not, she came to hear little and less of him and more of his doings. did he wonder of her as much as she him? such questions were better left unanswered, she supposed. still, given word by her lord father would, at times, be given by a more than welcomed visitor.
it was no secret that the targaryen girl longed for the company of her brother rhaegar above all other.
seldom did she come to take to the presence of her second eldest sibling, viserys; their similarities were little to be found, if any were to truly exist. however, she found rhaegar to be far removed from similar shadow— to stand beneath a different light. she would not be the first to think so, sentiments shared equally be her own mother (who, with such opinions, still loved her children all the same) and the people—— words are wind, as some say, though she could trust them to be true.
❛ forgive me, brother, i meant no offense—— i was to be at mother’s side soon, i promise. ❜
it paints a smile upon porcelain feature, the way in which her name is spoken by his tongue. it had been long since they had last had words, or so it felt to the princess. though no matter how bright the smile, timidity would no sooner take to the violet of her eyes; a rather annoying affliction, viserys had called it, that one of her name and status would be bestowed with such MEEKNESS.
The prince knew his sister meant no ill -- in fact, that she'd looked forward to his company, a fact of which most were aware, as they similarly were of Rhaegar's particular affection for his sister. Many years younger than he was the princess, yet they shared a connection few could claim. Something about Daenerys reminded him of himself, but less melancholy, at least to his eye. To Rhaegar, Dany's presence felt akin to the sun after winter; few things allowed him to escape the heavy burden of his responsibilities, even for a matter of minutes, but her company always eased the weight.
A smile more bold than his sister's brightens his expression. So often, some would call the aging prince morose, but when he smiled, NONE could deny his beauty. Without hesitation, he entered her room and shut the door behind him. The news he had was better hidden from curious ears, even those of a trusted staff. He knew not if even Rhaella was aware of her brother-husband's intentions with her only daughter, nor what her reaction would be when he informed her -- but regardless of the queen's or the prince's personal feelings, losing Daenerys in this regard was nothing short of inevitable, a fact they both knew well.
Thus, the most Rhaegar could do was push his influence into the process as FREQUENTLY as possible, at least when it officially began. And he intended to, if only because he could not trust Aerys to keep her best interests in mind. He would not have her mistreated, he would not have her handed to a man simply for the sake of an alliance with no regard to his manner, especially because she had not yet grown out of her shyness.
He approached her slowly and with a smile equally as bright and sincere as hers. Daenerys maintained all the beauty of their mother, perhaps more, Targaryen through and through, just as all the children of Aerys and Rhaella. She would grow into a princess envied by all, practically a queen in her own right, he was certain; something about her made him feel as though he gazed into a MIRROR.
❝ I’ve looked forward to seeing you again, dear sister. but surely you know that already. Come, embrace me and tell me what news you’ve already had of home I would hate to bore you with repetition. ❞
