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Daella had always been an odd child.
Well, at least in the eyes of Westeros. If Valyria had never fallen, if she had been born a dragonlord, Daella would have fit into that world perfectly. She was endlessly drawn to the ways of their ancestors—their religion, their customs. She read any book or parchment she could find on the subject hungrily. And most importantly, Daella was drawn to blood magic.
But Daella never crossed that line. It pained her not to explore this sacred part of her ancestry, but for the sake of her mother and sister, she held back. Her mother, her sweet mother, was like a shining star in the cesspit of the royal court. She always had a smile, a kind word, a soft touch to share. If she was disappointed because her odd daughter didn't resemble her namesake, the kind and fragile Princess Daella, she never let it show.
Her older sister, fierce and loving, was a true dragon, and Daella always looked forward to flying together on Syrax and Shrykos. It was a shame that Valyria ceased to exist, but if its fall had caused Queen Aemma and Princess Rhaenyra to exist, maybe it was worth it, Daella thought. Daella had love for her father, King Viserys, too; but she resented him deeply even before that accident happened.
Daella was ten and three when her mother was murdered.
It was as if time in the world had gone awry when she saw her butchered body. The memories of the next year were blurry. She remembered standing at the beach, looking into nothingness as her mother and brother burned. She remembered the throne room filled with lords and ladies, kneeling for her sister. She remembered the kinslayer declaring he would marry the Andal girl, Rhaenyra's lady. She remembered looking at her half-brother, Aegon, and feeling nothing. She remembered her sister on the royal hunt, walking covered in blood, as if she was Queen Visenya reborn. She remembered House Velaryon returning to the Red Keep after the kinslayer lost his patience.
Many significant events had transpired. But nothing that had happened was enough to breathe life into Daella again, who felt like a walking corpse, until that day.
It is ironic in a way. Perhaps she should thank the Andal girl, the so-called queen, for helping her. Because it was the color green that brought her back to life.
Banners were called against Rhaenyra, and Daella would be the one to answer them.
Daella researched blood magic until her eyes grew tired and her mind went numb. She already had a vast collection of Valyrian rituals and customs—something the Andal girl had tried to get rid of, but Daella had laughed in her face—but that wasn't enough. In the past moons, she had snuck into her father's study or flown to Dragonstone, studying the dusty parchments there.
She did not feel completely ready, but time was of the essence. Rhaenyra was with child, and Daella knew the babe didn't hail from her husband, sweet but weak Laenor. Daella couldn't care less about who fathered the child; as it was her sister's, that was enough for her. Rhaenyra was a true dragon after all, she should live freely without restraints, like a true dragonlord. Westeros, however, saw these matters differently, and Daella knew a babe with strong coloring would give the Andal woman and her snakes more opportunities to hurt her beloved family. There was a chance the babe would take after Rhaenyra, but a chance wasn't enough. Daella had to make it certain.
What made things hard was that she had to perform the ritual now, in the early moons of her sister's pregnancy. The more the babe developed, the more difficult this type of spell became. She wished she could research more, but the time had come.
First, she had to bind herself to one of the Fourteen Flames for eternity. There were two gods she considered: Aegarax, God of all creatures, and Shrykos, Goddess of beginnings, endings, transitions, and doorways. Perhaps because her own dragon was named after her, Daella felt more drawn to Shrykos. It made more sense too; she didn't want to create new life, she just wanted to change one slightly.
She kneeled at the altar at Dragonstone on a stormy night, cutting her arm, offering herself to the Goddess Shrykos and becoming her child. After that was done, she had to work on the ritual. With the help of her dragonglass blade, she drew a circle with her own blood. The loss of blood made her dizzy, but she did not let up, knowing there was no room for mistakes right now. She placed her offering at the middle of the circle, a scorching hot dragon egg, and prayed fervently to Shrykos.
"Shyrkos, Mother, Goddess of endings and beginnings, hear your daughter's plea! Accept my offering, Mother, and help an innocent soul, a babe of your blessed blood..."
In that moment, the sound of thunder filled the air, as if in acknowledgment of Daella's prayers.
Visenya Targaryen was born seven moons later.
She was a healthy and robust babe, with golden-silver hair and big violet eyes. King Viserys was moved to tears when he held his granddaughter, claiming the little girl was the very image of Rhaenyra when she was born. He was a loving grandfather, pointing out his and the late Queen Aemma's features on Visenya, which made Rhaenyra happy and enraged the Andal woman.
Rhaenyra Targaryen beamed when she first held her daughter, peppering her with sweet kisses, proclaiming that every second of pain and discomfort during her pregnancy was worth it. She declared her babe would take the Conqueror Queen's name and the Targaryen surname, even though that was not what they had agreed on with House Velaryon. The Andal girl didn't waste time reminding Daella's sister of this with a stiff smile on her lips. Corlys Velaryon, however, perhaps because the babe was a girl, not a boy, or perhaps just to annoy the Green Queen, agreed to this change, drawing all color from the Andal girl's face.
Of course, the Pretender Queen did not stop there. She tried to whisper that the babe was Prince Daemon's, not Ser Laenor's, as Visenya had the Targaryen look with no trace of Velaryon in her. This whisper was dismissed since Prince Daemon had been living in Pentos since Princess Rhaenyra's wedding, and Princess Rhaenyra was not with child in the first three moons of her marriage. The Andal girl was persistent with her jabs, though, insisting that the child did not take after Ser Laenor at all, which was dismissed as well. People assumed Visenya just happened to take after her mother, that was all.
"Mayhaps the next babe will take after my goodson more. I am glad this precious girl takes after my Rhaenyra," King Viserys simply said when the Green Queen brought up this matter yet again at a family dinner, just after Rhaenyra announced with Laenor that she was with child again. Daella had no appetite; she just stared at her scarred arm. It seemed like she would have to do things differently this time.
Making the babe look like Laenor was a harder task than making Visenya look like Rhaenyra. Visenya and Rhaenyra shared blood; they were daughter and mother. A simpler ceremony and offering sufficed. More preparations were necessary to make the babe look like a Velaryon.
First, she needed three warm dragon eggs instead of one. Stealing one from the hatchery was hard enough, let alone three! The dragonkeepers watched and guarded every single viable egg. One by one, Daella swapped out these viable eggs with eggs of similar coloration that had already gone cold, and snuck them into the small Fourteen Flames temple.
She needed Laenor's blood, hair, and tears as well. The first two were easy enough, but Daella was unsure how to get her goodbrother's tears without him noticing. One night, she snuck into his rooms and whispered sweet things about Joffrey Lonmouth into his ear. Soon, the Velaryon man's dream turned into a nightmare, and he cried bitter tears in his sleep. Daella felt bad for him, but it was a necessary evil.
She knelt and prayed for seven days and seven nights until Shrykos finally answered her prayers, turning the three dragon eggs cold. Daella was weak from not eating, drinking, and sleeping, and she was bedridden for weeks after the ritual, much to her dear sister's worry. After this incident, King Viserys forbade Daella from leaving the Red Keep in the foreseeable future, but Daella just shrugged at that. She had achieved what she wanted.
Anything for my sister. Dear mother, I could not protect you. But I will protect Rhaenyra and her children.
As the moons passed, Rhaenyra's belly grew larger, Corlys and Viserys grew more excited, and the Green Queen grew paler. Oh, yes, the Andal girl was with child as well, not that the thought of another half-sibling excited Daella. The presence of Aegon annoyed her already; Helaena was more tolerable, but not at all interesting. The Pretender was the first to take the birthing bed, giving birth to Prince Aemond. Daella was unsure if her father named him after Queen Aemma or Prince Daemon… or perhaps both.
Not long after the birth of her half-brother, Daella was called into her father's solar. King Viserys awaited her anxiously, blabbering about duty and whatnot, pointing out that Daella was almost a woman grown. She had anticipated such a meeting and wasn't particularly bothered by the idea of marriage, as it could help them gain important allies for her sister's cause. It was entertaining to watch the kinslayer being embarrassed and fearful of her reaction though. After minutes of sweet talk, Viserys admitted he had promised her hand to Jason Lannister.
Jason was an egoistic man, but also a powerful one. He had been slighted by Rhaenyra at the royal hunt, but Daella was confident she could endear him to her and make him forget all of that.
If he turns out to be uncooperative… I will simply have a few children with him, then slit his throat. I can rule the Westerlands as a regent.
To King Viserys's relief, his daughter accepted the match without any fuss.
A fortnight later, on a sunny morning, Rhaenyra's labors began. Thankfully, the birth was easy on her, and in a few hours, the realm gained a hale prince.
If Princess Visenya was the very image of Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Jacaerys was the very image of Ser Laenor. Her sister, her goodbrother, Rhaenys, and Corlys were all shocked after seeing the babe's bronze skin, curly silver hair, and aquamarine eyes. Rhaenys shed a few tears as she rocked the babe tenderly in her arms, and from that day, she was much warmer to Visenya as well. Viserys laughed when he saw the babe, reminding his wife how he predicted that the next babe would look like Laenor. The Green Queen looked as if someone had slapped her, then blinked slowly and congratulated Rhaenyra quietly, leaving shortly after that.
Later that day, Daella heard Rhaenyra and Laenor whispering to each other, wondering how this could have happened. After going back and forth, they concluded that one of their half-hearted attempts while they were drunk must have been successful.
A few moons later, at a Small Council meeting, Princess Rhaenyra proposed two betrothals: between Princess Visenya and Prince Aegon, and Prince Jacaerys and Princess Helaena, with the former pair inheriting the Iron Throne and the latter one the Driftwood Throne. This proposal was met with enthusiasm by King Viserys and silence by his wife. At the tourney held to celebrate the birth of Prince Jacaerys and Prince Aemond, Queen Alicent Hightower wore gold, not green, and Daella thought that spoke louder than any words.
Daella watched her family fondly, thanking Shrykos with a silent prayer.
Thank you, Mother, for your help. My nephew and niece's blood may be Strong and Targaryen, but no one will be able to tell.
It was like the air and time froze around her, and words filled her mind.
What do you speak of, Daughter? One babe is Targaryen, the other is Velaryon. It is what you asked for.
Daella blinked, slowly breathing in and out.
Oh, Mother, I never imagined the day would come when I could speak with you. Thank you for answering your daughter's prayers. But I do not understand. I only performed those rituals to change the babes' appearance a bit—
Foolish daughter, you dabbled in powers you do not truly know. You asked for babes of their appearance and blood; you got them. One is her and one is him. Tell me, did you truly believe that reading some books would help you understand the powers that intervene all and some more? Did you forget that Valyria's doom was because of its own magic? Pitiful daughter, let this be a lesson for you.
The world was spinning, and Daella was out of breath. Was it truly a coincidence that Visenya was the very image of Rhaenyra? That her father is nearly reduced to tears every day he sees her? Was it truly a coincidence that Jacaerys was the very image of Laenor, so much that Rhaenys wanted to hold him all the time, so much that there were no features of Rhaenyra in him at all?
One is her and one is him.
And Daella watched with horror as Rhaenyra and Laenor held their own younger selves in their arms, kissing them and thinking them as children of their own.