♚°DRA×CARYS ⊰ :: feelsHASkilig && JINFINITE

[feelsHASkilig]

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welcome to a jinsley GOT/HOTD production!
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valar morghulis​

 

[feelsHASkilig]

"My Life"​

PRINCESS VISAERA TARGARYEN ⊰ THE LITTLE JEWEL

VISAERA (COMMON TONGUE) tab VISAERA (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

The only sounds Visaera Targaryen could hear other than the wind blowing aggressively against her face were the rhythmic beats of Moonfyre’s massive wings and her pounding heart. It was her dragon’s wings that she focused on to distract her. They have been flying for hours now. Even though she left Highgarden very early that morning, she knew it would take at least half the day to arrive at King’s Landing. And as much as she wanted to make it a non-stop flight, her aching hands couldn’t hold onto her dragon’s scales for long. She lost nearly all feeling to her fingers long ago and had to constantly look down at her sore hands just to know that she was still holding on.

Besides, it wasn’t like Moonfyre would even listen to her if she asked him to land so that they could rest. The sky was his kingdom and he would never sacrifice it for anyone; not even his rider.

Visaera squinted against the wind, keeping her gaze focused. There was nothing but green below them whenever there was a break in the clouds. Every once in a while they would pass a small village or a handful of houses. She hadn’t seen a town since leaving the lands of Highgarden. And as they steered away from the path of the Roseroad, they probably wouldn’t see another town until they arrived at King’s Landing.

The hours trapped in the sky left Visaera with too much time to ponder. Millions of thoughts flashed in and out of her mind. When she wasn’t laboring over her efforts to remain on dragonback or focusing on his wing beats against the wind to distract from said labors, she was thinking about the last three years. How she was forced to leave her home to stay with the Tyrells. How she was now leaving what felt like her second family. Lady Tyrell had not protested Visaera's decision to return to King’s Landing a year before her wedding to her son, but she also didn’t approve of it. But Lady Tyrell was just like her long ago; pulled away from her family at a young age to marry into a noble family. Visaera would miss the many women she befriended and loved in Highgarden. But abandoning them was important to her. She needed this year away from what was to be her future to return to what truly is most important.

Virys.

Visaera’s eyes stung as the brutal winds dried her tears. Three years. It had been three years since she last saw her twin brother. Her other half. Her Life. It was only because she clung to thoughts of him that she survived these three years away from him. Although it pained her that he hadn’t come to visit her in the time they were separated, she still hung on to the hope that everything that was shared between them before they were separated by duty remained. To hell what the rumors and news told her about what he did to keep busy in King’s Landing without her. Visaera knew deep down in her heart — the very heart that beats just for him — that he would never, ever, stray.

While they had not expressed it out loud the last time they were together, Visaera knew. She knew it from the moment his lips touched hers that night before he left her to fight another one of their father's battles. She knew it in the way he held her that entire night.

And she needed this year before she gave herself to duty and Deric Tyrell to show him, tell him, that no matter what life threw at them to pull them apart, she would always love him and only him. Virys Targaryen was her Life and without him life itself was meaningless.

Moonfyre suddenly shifted under her, turning abruptly east with a strong pump of his massive wings. Visaera winced, tightening her legs against his hard dragon scales to hold on. All thoughts of her twin brother vanished as she focused on not falling. But with this brief, sudden distraction, other darker thoughts crept in.

Viasera shut her eyes tight, begging and urging for The Darkness to disappear. She muttered under her breath a prayer to The Mother for mercy and peace and then a prayer to The Warrior for strength against what was about to come. Tears swelled once again as she felt the shadowy curtain fall over her, revealing the menacing demons that slithered along her spine and presented the first licks in her mind.

What if he doesn’t love you anymore? Or, what if he never did?

Why exert all this energy to return to him when he so obviously no longer wants you?

He has fucked his way through almost all of King’s Landing. What use does he have with someone like you?

A heaviness clenched at her chest as the thoughts grew louder. As always, they were cruel to Visaera. They were menacing with the illest of intent. No matter how many years passed or how much she fought back, It always came back stronger and ready to attack at a moment of weakness.

But Visaera wasn’t going to back down. No. She hadn’t suffered and fought for three years to give into Its seductive suggestions to let go; to release her iron grip of Moonfyre’s scales. With one more prayer to the Gods, she opened her eyes to focus on all that was in front of her and let the light back in. Slowly, but very reluctantly, The Darkness slithered away leaving chills down her spine as it vanished.

She couldn’t allow It to return before she returned to King’s Landing. She wouldn’t allow anything to deter her from returning to her dear brother’s arms.

He was waiting for her. She just knew it. To hell with all the rumors and facts she heard about him over the last three years, she knew him better than anyone in all the Seven Kingdoms. Virys needed her just as much as she needed him.

After being airborne for nearly half the day, Visaera held her breath as Moonfyre made his quick descent from the clouds to fly over King’s Landing. The Great Sept was the first landmark she noticed once her vision had sharpened. But she didn’t focus on it for too long, turning her attention immediately to the Red Keep as it loomed above the city. Finally, she was home. She wanted so very much to just fly right to the Keep and begin the reunion that mattered to her the most. But she knew she couldn’t. Prior to her departure from Highgarden, she made arrangements with her family to reunite with them elsewhere. So after one last look at her home, Visaera shouted her instructions to her dragon and once more tightened her grip to prepare for his complete descent, his large shadow looming over the many brick buildings they passed as they soared above the city.

She was not surprised to see that only her mother and Saera, her older sister, were on the royal beaches awaiting her arrival. Even though she was informed that all of her family would come to welcome her home, she never once expected her father, King Aerys, or any of her half siblings from his first marriage to be in attendance.

What surprised her — and disappointed her — was the absence of the one member of her entire family that she actually cared to see the moment she landed. Visaera did not bother to hide the frown as she climbed off Moonfyre. As soon as her feet touched the sand, her dragon spread his wings and returned to the skies. The poor dragon keepers were not going to see him for a while. No amount of High Valyrian commands were going to force her free soaring companion back into the Dragonpit. She just hoped the neighboring farms were ready.

Her disappointment remained despite her small smile as her mother and sister approached. Unlike her, they were all smiles and excitement as they took their turns embracing her and welcoming her back. But that didn’t stop her from returning the kind gestures. She immediately hugged Saera back and let her older sister gush over her apparent transformation since they last saw each other. When it was her mother’s turn, Visaera offered her the barest of affection: a loose one armed hug and a civil ear to hear all about how happy the woman was over her return. Visaera said nothing to her mother. She had nothing to say to her since she first saw the signs that she was abandoning her youngest son to the abuse of their family.

They remained on the royal family’s private beach for longer than Visaera would have liked and her anxious impatience gradually started to show. “Where is Virys?” she asked, her eyes staring intently at the stairs that led to the Red Keep. Surely her brother saw her dragon earlier. Besides that, he had to know of her return. It wasn’t like Saera, her most trusted confidante while she remained in Highgarden, to keep this good news from their little brother. Among their entire family, Saera was the only one that truly knew the extent and intensity of Visaera and Virys’ relationship.

Her mother and sister paused and they made no effort to hide the hesitancy in their exchanged gazes. Visaera winced, trying to ignore the heaviness in her chest.

“Your brother is…” her mother started, but paused to once more look at her eldest daughter.

Saera sighed and nodded. “He had a…previous engagement….”

Visaera’s face hardened. “What do you mean? Did he not know of my return?” Whatever this previous engagement was, it must be very important for him to prioritize it over her. Very little outranked her when it came to her brother.

Saera’s hands shifted awkwardly. “Yes…he knew…”

Visaera stiffened, her hands closing into fists at her sides. “Where is my brother?”

Her vision tunneled as she sped through the many corridors of the Red Keep. She completely abandoned all decorum as she took the multiple staircases two steps at a time. She ignored her mother’s instructions to go to her bedchamber to freshen up and rest after her long journey. Rest meant nothing to her if it kept her away from Virys.

When she arrived at the floor of Virys’ bedchamber, Visaera stopped and looked down one end of the corridor to another. Of course she knew where exactly his bedchamber was. That didn’t stop her from needing a moment to catch her breath and prepare for the one moment she has imagined and dreamed of for three years. She had wanted this very moment for so long and she was finally going to have it.

A rising heat spread throughout her body at the images that ran through her mind. As she took deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself, she pulled her hair from the bun she wore for her journey and let her long silvery locks fall down her back. She stared intently in the direction of her brother’s bedchamber, her fingers tingling with anticipation of everything she planned to do with him…for him.

A gentle moan accompanied her shuddering breath. Her body felt unnerved and impatient. But her mind still needed an extra moment to prepare for everything that she knew was about to occur between them once she opened his bedchamber door. What her hands would do. What her lips would do.

Oh, how she ached for him. Her body immediately reacted to the scenarios that played in her head, now with Virys as the additional member to her party; a party that was only for two. She couldn’t wait to feel him against her fingertips. To be wrapped in his arms once more. To run her hands through his long silver hair, just as she had that last night they were together. To press her lips eagerly to his once more and then let those same lips explore all of him.

She needed him. She needed him so badly.

This burning need propelled her forward at last. Her heart raced as his door came closer. Just a few more steps now.

Visaera was just at the point of counting down the remaining steps until she reached his door when it suddenly opened. Her eyes widened and her body froze. Maybe he sensed she was near and was just as impatient for their reunion. Her mind urged her to continue forward and meet him halfway. The longer she stood frozen with her back against the wall, the longer she delayed their long awaited return into each other's arms.

But just as she was about to take that first required step, another foot took a step first. The step that began its departure did not belong to a heavy boot. In fact, it didn’t belong to a man at all. From that moment, Visaera felt as if her entire world was crumbling. And through the numerous cracks, The Darkness seeped through like water. It lapped around her feet as she watched a sandaled feminine foot turn into a smooth leg against the thinnest layer of fabric that could barely be considered a dress. The legs turned into curvy hips, a slender waist and ample breasts. It ended with a glazed over expression and disheveled hair as if hands had been through it continuously.

It crawled up to her neck where It rested comfortably while licking at her ears and mind.

So this is the previous engagement that is more important than you.

Visaera couldn’t even see the woman as she skipped past her, barely offering her a poor excuse of a curtsy before walking down the staircase. Her eyes continued to stare at the now closed bedchamber door. No. There must be some misunderstanding. Surely that woman hadn’t just….

You cannot deny what you saw. You know whose bedchamber that belongs to. It is no mistake.

Visaera took shaky, hesitant steps forward. The fire that motivated her was extinguished now, leaving her with cold, icy torture and the need to know the truth. She couldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t believe it. Fuck what she had been told all these years. Fuck that it was Saera that had to tell her.

“He would never…” The words came out like a much needed breath and was uttered like a mantra as she stepped right in front of the closed door. “He couldn’t…. He wouldn’t….”

He. Did.

As the door slowly opened, the hinges creaking in protest, Visaera’s eyes searched the bedchamber desperately. Everything looked familiar, but foreign at the same time. Nothing about this room felt like what she remembered.

The scent was inescapable: a humid mixture of cheap and expensive perfumes and sweat. Each whiff was like a dagger to every part of her body. She couldn’t even feel the heaviness in her chest as an emotional numbness came over her. But her eyes continued to search. She looked for just one sign that all of her fears and all she denied were not true.

From the corner of her eye, she caught another figure stirring on the messy bed. Slowly, she turned, fear feeding It the ammunition needed to do more than lick at the back of her mind. As her eyes fell on the naked body that too turned in her direction, her own body shattered.

Try as she might to deny it, but she could not reject the truth. It didn’t matter that he looked so different from the memory she clung to while she was away at Highgarden. The long silver hair that matched her own was now short and sticking at odd angles. His limbs were longer now, threatening to hang over the large bed he currently laid on. There was a sharpness to him, a coldness. Even through hooded eyes there was a guarded blankness staring back at her. The man on the bed, naked and showing obvious signs that he was recovering from passionate love making, was the very person she returned to King’s Landing to see. The very person she believed would wait for her.

All numbness disappeared as she felt her heart break brutally in her chest. It was the final blow It needed to sink venomous teeth into her.

You see? You see it, yes? You see the way he looks at you.

There was no warmth in his gaze. For the briefest second, there was zero recognition in his eyes.

You cannot deny any longer what is right in front of you. His distrust. His disdain. How dare you expect him to wait for you when it was YOU that left him? YOU that abandoned him!

Her hands fell limp at her sides. She couldn’t feel any part of her body anymore. It was almost as if she was watching this scene from outside of herself.

He does not want you. He does not love you. You don’t DESERVE HIM.

She couldn’t breathe, or maybe she just wasn’t bothering to try.

HE HATES YOU! ​

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[JINFINITE]

"My Heart..."​

PRINCE VIRYS TARGARYEN ⊰ THE SLIGHTED DRAGON

VIRYS (COMMON TONGUE) tab VIRYS (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

When Virys had woken early that morning, it was to his sister Saera paying him a visit with gifts and a reminder of what today was: that his other half was to return after being away at Highgarden for three painfully long years. She had brought new clothes she’d had made special for him, asked if she could do something with the mess that was his hair, and informed him she was having food brought up for him because, ”You look as though you haven’t eaten in days.”

Which was incorrect. Virys did eat, but very rarely did he do so outside of his own chambers. Nor did he ever accept invitations to dine with anyone, and so it was understandable for Saera to relate his slim, tired physique and social absence to not eating. However Virys said nothing in response to her observation, his eyes were instead trained on the garments she’d draped over the back of the settee in front of the fireplace.

”Please, Virys. Get up, get dressed. I will return later today and we can walk over together?” That was a tactic that had worked for her frequently in the past when he was a child. If she were ever unable to get Virys to do something without his twin sister present then she would offer to go with him. But this time around Virys never saw her later. It was likely Saera truly did return to walk with him, but the sounds from his bedchamber would have sent her on to receive their sister alone…

Virys on the other hand, was far from alone.

Sweat had his short silvery hair clinging to his face, his pale skin flushed, and his voice as rough as his actions were with the young woman in his bed. He was not violent with her, he never intentionally hurt any of the women he slept with. But he was definitely known for being rough, as it was an outlet for his fiery temper to reach a temporary release.

He had long been told of all the benefits of sex. It was said to help relieve pain and stress—even boost his general health. Some swore it kept their beer bellies at bay, or would trick their minds into forgetting they were hungry. He’d listened to men tell countless stories of how good it felt. Or point out all their favorite parts on a woman, judging them solely on their physical appearances alone—appearances which had zero effect on Virys.

In fact none of these benefits ever graced Virys. If anything sex had complete opposite effects on him. He found it boring, and even frustrating. It allowed his mind to wander and brood and the thoughts he would land on often only further agitated him.

Like the way Visaera was so prominent in his thoughts that his white hot anger was even affecting his vision and the bright light spots that plagued his eyes managed to turn his companion’s dark hair into a flash of silver. His lips moved on their own but without uttering a sound as he mouthed the words ”My Heart”, while his fingers ran through the silver locks until his vision returned to normal and the darkness settled back into both her hair and his own heart.

Virys’ grip tightened, resulting in a squeak of pain from the woman beneath him that quickly transformed into spine tingling moans, Even if she had wanted to escape there was no space for her to wriggle free with how close he was pressed against her. Their skin stuck together everywhere they were in contact and despite his slim appearance he weighed far too much for her to move on her own.

It wasn’t until he felt her shudder, her nails digging into his skin that he finally slowed to a stop. Both were out of breath and for a moment neither made any effort to move beyond Virys lifting his head to look down at her face. She offered him a small smile, her hand leaving his upper body to instead trace his hairline and free all the silver from sticking to his forehead. At her next attempt at affectionate action he pulled back out of reach, ”Don’t.”

He proceeded to then pull out of her and settled next to her on the bed with a frustrated groan. The warning tone in his voice would have worked on just about anyone else, but he had spent more nights with this woman than anyone else, and so she knew which boundaries were safe to push and which to respect. This particular one she knew to be easy to crumble.

It wasn’t uncommon for her to finish well before him, and sometimes he wouldn’t at all. But judging from how painfully hard he was as she sat up, today she couldn’t just leave him despite how he reacted to her touch.

Her hand high up on his thigh had him grabbing at her wrist to stop her, a growl deep in his throat continuing his earlier warning, but it did nothing to deter her as her fingers now gently caressed his leg, ”You’ll feel better, I promise.”

This was one of the only points regarding sex that was true for Virys. Yes it was true that it could feel good. But only on a physical level and only for a brief amount of time. Oftentimes immediately after Virys would feel disgusted with himself. It was not the fact he slept with whores, they were not weighing on his thoughts at all. But rather he just felt…dirty. Like watching a man get piss drunk and then vomit all over himself and wake up face down in a pool of his own waste. That was usually how sex felt for him. Great during, as though enjoying drinks with good company. But once it was over the aftermath often kicked in hard and fast. That’s not to say he never enjoyed himself, but the fact that he usually didn’t was what had him coming back over and over again, chasing a high he wasn’t even sure existed for him.

The only part of sex that had ever truly benefited Virys and that he could relate to with everyone else was that it often helped him fall asleep. This was especially useful when his mind would run rampant for days and wake him at all hours of the night. The culmination of all the abuse he had endured and was still living through could leave him with many a sleepless night and a temper as high as the dragons could fly. He had been locked in one of those slumps during the days leading up to today: to Visaera’s return. And so maybe the reason he summoned one of his usuals to his bed was to help him sleep. Or maybe he was just looking for any excuse to prolong avoiding their inevitable reunion.

The sound of his door opening was what later brought him out of his sleep. He hadn’t noticed the woman leave his side, but the creaking of the hinges reached him despite the depths of his exhaustion and had Virys clench at the bed sheets as he protested internally at being woken so soon after having practically just fallen asleep. His brow had furrowed, wishing to will himself back to sleep, however the lack of a second door sound quickly tipped him off that something was wrong.

But what could possibly be wrong? He always paid up front, and no one would dare hassle any of the women he brought back to his bed. Had she just left the door wide open?! That wouldn’t make any sense and was extremely uncharacteristic of her, but at this point he really could not fathom any reason as to why she hadn’t closed the door.

Opening his eyes came with some difficulty, his lids were so heavy with the desperate need for sleep. But he forced them all the same as he turned over just enough to glance over to see what was going on. What he found though was that his whore had long gone and instead a smaller, blonder girl stood in the doorway.

There was no denying that initially Virys did not recognize this girl who had entered the privacy of his bedchamber. But what felt like minutes frozen in time was merely a few seconds flashing by as he came to an eerie realization of what he was seeing.

It was softer, untouched by war, but it was his own face staring back at him. However this was an impossible feat as Virys had smashed countless mirrors over the years, all for the same crime that his reflection shared the appearance of his most painful memory, “Visaera…”

While yes, he had known that she was to return today, part of him didn’t think she actually would. And so he stared at her now in disbelief as though she were some phantom in his head. While another part of him had been trying to avoid her, hence his current situation. Wanting to drown out his hurt and not knowing a better way than to overwhelm his senses with the exhaustion that came from fucking away the pain. He had fully intended to not rise from his bed for several hours. To just sleep away the day so as to not wait in anxious anticipation and then be disappointed when his sister did not appear. Only, here she was. She truly had returned.

The grogginess in his voice masked the turmoil of emotions racing through him at her appearance. Part of him felt as though he could break down crying on the spot, but it was quickly getting overwhelmed as the fuse to his anger had been lit and it was merely a matter of time now until it caught up and went off.

In the beginning he had tried so many times to go see her in Highgarden. He’d had so many impulsive plans to rescue her. To show up with Yena and burn anyone and anything that got between them. After all that had come to be all he was good for. The only time he was ever praised was when it was in regards to the mass casualties and destruction he was responsible for. That was the only time anything ever worked out for him. But each time he tried Yena went against the usual gentle and maternal nature she had for him and instead would challenge Virys. Blatantly refusing to obey while his emotions ran unchecked and out of control in his distraught rage.

By the time he calmed down enough that he could fly, the voices in his head had convinced him not to. It didn’t take long for his mourning to shift to loathing, passing the blame to her no matter how unreasonable he was being. It was her fault. Everything was her fault.

She was the reason she had been taken away from him. She was too successful in her studies, actively pursuing a future that did not include him in it. She was the reason he had been left behind to suffer at the hands of their family, none of which were free from the charges. Not even Saera who had done nothing to assist him in bringing Visaera back home. She was the reason he was still plagued by the smell of burning flesh and the screams that came just before death, because she had always been waiting at home to heal his heart each time he went into battle…until the day she wasn’t and three years later he had yet to recover from that.

But her biggest crime of all was loving him. Loving him and then leaving him haunted by the kiss he would never experience again no matter how many others he tasted.

Virys was sitting up by now, slowly swinging his legs over the side of the bed as though intending to get up and walk over to her. There had previously been an ignited heat in his eyes, taking in her new appearance and the way her long hair framed her perfect and now mature face, leading his gaze downward to how much of her skin was exposed by this new fashion she had shown up in. But now a coldness was settling in as his thoughts raced with all the things he held her accountable for. But even still a conflicting yearning stirred in his heart which was what drove his need to approach her, ”You—“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence, his bare feet had only just touched the cold floor when she turned with such a quickness that by the time he realized what was happening she was already gone.

Gone. She had left him…again.

The cold beneath his feet that had initially been helping to ground him against his temper soon became unrecognizable as a dangerous warmth spread out in every direction from the bottom of his chest. He couldn’t breathe. The pressure on his lungs was so intense that his mind just went blank, unable to process anything beyond the memory of watching her turn and run.

Virys’ jaw was clenched so tight it surely would have been hurting had he been able to focus on anything other than the internal flare that had finally been set off. His fingers twitched, longing to feel her in his hands. He bit down on his lower lip, his tongue running over it both out of irritation and of craving. It was a rare phenomenon for him to feel so useless and his blood just boiled angrily inside with each passing minute until at last he stood to his feet. There was a glass and pitcher of wine left out on his table from having shared a drink earlier, but he only got so far as filling the glass half way. At that point he let the pitcher clatter back onto the table, picked up the glass and threw it hard as he could across the room. The wine flew and the glass shattered on impact.

Time was lost on Virys after that. Nothing mattered to him anymore. The other half of his heart had finally returned and neither pain nor pleasure could convince him to chase after her. He wanted nothing to do with her. He wanted her here on the bed with him. He was better off without her as he couldn’t bear receiving any new wounds. He wanted to pin her down and never let her leave him again. He wanted to grab her by the neck so tightly and force the very air she breathed to come from him alone because no one, in either the heavens nor the earth could touch her.

The back and forth of his polar emotions eventually lulled him back to a light sleep as his body and mind both gave out on him and abandoned his racing heart, fueled by the blood still simmering through his veins. But a knock at his door and someone calling his name pulled his consciousness back out with a sense of dejavu when he turned over at the sound of his door opening again.

Saera had returned, although it was unclear whether she had seen or spoken to Visaera after his twin had fled from his room. Or if she was simply checking in on him for his sake. But regardless it was no secret that he had not been on the beach to welcome his beloved sister home. And Saera knew better than anyone in all of the seven kingdoms, just how hard the separation had been for him. It was very unexpected for him to have not gone to see Visaera’s arrival. He should have been camped out there since dawn. But Saera was neither naive nor ignorant to his demons. Having experienced a few of his raging rants over the past three years she was familiar with how much anger he harbored for his twin, and the fact that he wasn't currently with Visaera told her all she needed to know: their reunion hadn’t been a happy one.

Neither sibling spoke for a while though. It was almost as though they were analyzing one another, trying to read the other’s mind. Saera knew that if she said the wrong thing then the next words from his mouth would be poison. And Virys knew she knew. In fact it was almost amusing watching her mind plot out the safest course of action.

Virys was so often subjected to cruelty and being the source of other’s disappointment. And while Saera had spent all her years in King’s Landing trying to protect him from it all. This time was different. This time she was intervening in the twins’ affairs knowing that neither would survive if it got too out of hand. So in the end she chose not to baby him, not this time around, “You should have been there.”

Compared to the morning when Virys would not look her in the eye, now he was practically burning holes in her with his stare and he watched as she lifted her chin and swallowed. She was nervous. And rightfully so. Saera was no stranger to her brother’s ways, and while she knew he would not harm her the way she had seen him assault others who had upset him, she still harbored a general fear of his outbursts. She had seen Visaera quiet him with ease with just a touch of her fingertips and a few velvety assurances in Valyrian as though he were a dragon. But while Saera knew and understood her brother well, she lacked that soulmate connection the twins shared and as such was not confident she would be able to reel him back if things got out of hand. It would not take a genius to tell that Virys was not mentally at a place where he could hear others, she would be unable to break through his armored heart to talk any sense into him today. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t try to plant a seed for later, ”Mother is having the kitchen prepare Visaera’s favorite foods.”

That was all the hint Virys would need: a subtle invitation to join them later to eat. But Saera also knew that there were a lot of uncertain factors at play in her plan. She was fairly certain she could convince her sister to humor their mother a while longer to show up to eat. But Virys was the wildcard in that the two women he hated the most in the world were also the two he loved the most. His relationship with their mother was so off and on. It was clear he wanted her love as he had felt as a small child. But he couldn’t forgive her for abandoning him the way she had. It was terribly upsetting to watch from the outside, but he still tried for her, and was then constantly let down and betrayed. His distrust in their mother was always coming between any attempts at salvaging their relationship. And then obviously Visaera was his weakness. He couldn’t stand her right now, but he couldn’t live without her and watching him suffer through the past three years assured Saera that there had to be a chance to fix things between them. It was a toss up whether or not he would attend, but Saera left after that without another word, leaving the small piece of information to eat at Virys and hopefully peak his interest enough for him to come down later.

When Virys did finally come down he was dressed in the new clothes Saera had brought him that morning, though his hair was still just as unkempt if not worse after his earlier session and subsequent multiple naps.

There were two things he noticed after entering the room. The first was that he was clearly an unexpected guest. Saera, Visaera and their mother all sat the the table without a fourth place setting in sight and no one looked relieved to see him. The second thing he noticed was Visaera. Almost immediately his eyes landed on her and he was unable to look away. He had come down thinking that he wanted to see her but now that he was here he could feel the pain bubbling inside and was regretting having ever left the safety of his room upstairs. He should have just gone to the dragon pits and sought out comfort from Yena. After all, even when she did not agree with him she was the only one who would never leave his side. She was the only one to match his temper head on and not tiptoe around him.

But he was already here, and he was frozen where he stood, completely captivated by everything his sister had become over their years apart whilst simultaneously feeling the wounds she had left behind fester in her presence.

He could hear their mother fumbling with her words as she tried to invite him to join them at the table, throwing useless apologies about how she did not think he would be able to join them or else she would have sent for him earlier. Virys did not offer her a single response, he was fixated completely on his other half and the way she would not meet his gaze.

Look at me.
There was movement in the room as the attendants were ordered to fetch him a plate. Virys had half a mind to snap that he wouldn’t be staying, but Visaera still had not acknowledged him either physically or verbally.
Look at me!

”Virys, why don’t y—“

”Welcome home, sister,” he didn’t mean to sound as distant as he did, but Virys’ emotions had his entire system on edge and unable to settle now that he was finally face to face with her. He did manage to cross over to the table though, consciously choosing to avoid his usual place beside her and instead opting to pull out the chair directly across, his eyes never once leaving her as he took a seat, ”You look well.”

While he had been here in King’s Landing losing more and more of himself each day that she was gone, Visaera was practically glowing. It appeared to Virys as though Highgarden had been kind to her, even suited her. From her dress to her hairstyle and fair skin, she absolutely embodied the kingdom. Whereas in contrast he had reached his all time lowest and it showed in the shadows under his eyes and the bruises and scars that decorated his skin.

She had left him to suffer this pain alone and no one, not even Yena had been able to soothe his wounded heart. But Visaera did not look as though their time apart had affected her.

She was fine. She didn’t need him the way he needed her. She had grown and matured from the dependent relationship they had had their entire life leaving Virys stuck in the past. She didn’t need him. But she was literally his heart, and in her absence he had felt his own beating weaker and weaker.

In fact it wasn’t until today where it pounded painfully in his chest that he truly felt alive. And that was all because of her. Because she had returned to torment and tease him for the remaining days until she left the Targaryen family and officially became Tyrell.

Visaera Tyrell, the name did not suit her. But it was not like it mattered how he felt about it. Clearly she didn’t care about his concern in the matter or she never would have followed through with her engagement. Had their situations been reversed he never would have left her. Never. And he would prove that from this point on. Everywhere she went he would be there. He would be her shadow from today until her last day in King’s Landing.

His head tilted, hair falling out of his eyes that had yet to leave Visaera and only moved to take in more and more of her new appearance. Longing to move closer, to feel her touch and her breath against his skin. To pull the strings from her dress and—Virys shifted uncomfortably in his chair at the new sensation burning within alongside his anger.

He busied himself by grabbing his glass as soon as the attendant presented it to him, taking a drink while Saera tried to navigate the situation she had created by recapping whatever Visaera had already shared with them of her trip and travels. However it did little to nothing to lessen the intensity in Virys' eyes as he stared almost expectantly across at his twin, wondering how the hell she was able to survive without him all these years and come out looking so good while he had turned to stone without her and was one word away from crumbling to dust under the pressure. ​

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[feelsHASkilig]

"My Life"​

PRINCESS VISAERA TARGARYEN ⊰ THE LITTLE JEWEL

VISAERA (COMMON TONGUE) tab VISAERA (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

All the pain came crashing down on Visaera the moment she made it to the privacy of her own bedchamber. She thanked her father’s paranoia — and overall annoyance with his two youngest children — for being the reason hers was so far away from Virys’. She knew that even without the handicap of being stark naked during their horrible reunion, her twin brother wouldn’t run after her. Despite the lack of emotion on his face, she knew that he was furious at her. No amount of time apart can erase all that she knew about her brother and how often he was influenced by his emotions. After all, most of his fiery emotions were often thrown at her and when he wasn’t throwing all of it in her face, he acted like she didn’t exist. She hoped that she was right about it being the latter. It was just too painful even thinking about him. Seeing him face to face now would just kill her. Not that death wasn’t tempting…

Hot, blinding tears poured down her face as she collapsed onto the floor. She hadn’t even bothered to move deeper into the large room, too broken and weak to make one more step. So she rested hopeless against the heavy door all the while banging her head painfully against the stubborn wood. Any kind of physical pain she could inflict upon herself was better than the absolute heartbreak tearing her apart from the inside out. She didn’t want this pain any longer. She wanted it to end, and quickly.

There is an easier method than this. Why torture yourself when a fast escape rests at the bottom of your trunk?

Visaera’s blurred vision rose up in the general direction of her large bedchamber. She hadn’t been in this room since she was forced to leave King’s Landing three years ago. But even through the tears she could see that it had gone untouched during her absence. The only thing that was different about the room was the presence of a large olive green trunk sitting rather awkwardly in the very middle. It was the trunk she sent here in advance of her trip. Moonfyre would never agree to carry something so unnecessarily heavy during their flight and she didn’t want to give her mother and sister an excuse to commission for a whole new wardrobe. This is especially because her fashion was now drastically different from what it had been when she was still living in King’s Landing.

But the dresses most popular in Highgarden were the last things she thought about as she squinted her eyes at her trunk. Even though she hadn’t laid eyes on it in a month, she knew exactly what rested on the very bottom hidden purposely under layers of delicate silk.

For her Name Day last year, her great uncle — the current lord steward presiding over Dragonstone — presented her with a dagger. While many in Highgarden did not approve of the gift, Visaera was the only one that knew of its significance. Outside the fact that her uncle had for the longest time been one of the top contenders for her hand, the dagger dated well before even the oldest ancestral sword of House Tyrell. The dagger was one of the rare few that survived the Doom. Which meant that it was also one of the rare few in all of Westeros that was made of Valyrian steel. Visaera knew that to possess such a historic weapon was unfit for her sex, but her uncle also knew that she was a great lover of history. What better gift to give her than something that has been around during the making of history?

Of course, Visaera has never once found reason to use the dagger…until right now.

She hadn’t even noticed when she got back onto her feet and walked over to her trunk. After she blinked away the tears still blurring her vision, she stared blankly at the floral designs that covered the lid. Her fingers twitched as It continued to lure her forward; tempting her to open the trunk.

Go on. There is no point in worrying about the silks when it calls to you. It has waited so long to see red.

Visaera took a long, shuddering breath.

It is the only way to erase the images. To erase him.

Virys' cold gaze crept through the darkness of her memories. His voice, just as cold as his eyes as he said her name, punched through her chest. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have thought her heart now rested in a bloody pulp on the ground at her feet. She remembered how terrified she was watching him move to get out of his bed; afraid of what he would do to her if he was even an arm’s length from her. She didn’t want her last memory before—

Or maybe she should have let him approach. At least then she wouldn’t have his hurt expression as she turned and ran from him to be her last memory of him.

Do it!

Visaera blinked. She turned her gaze ahead of her as the last remnants of Virys’ face in her mind’s eye faded like dust. That was all she could do now because suddenly she realized that her body was stiff as if jolted by fright.

“Visaera?”

She turned to find her mother standing at her now open door. Two handmaidens were behind her, hands clasped together in front of them and their heads bowed down. For a couple more seconds, she stared at them blankly while unaware if they were really standing there or not. But then her mother took a step into her room and explained that she had ordered a bath to be prepared for her. “You will feel much better once you’ve washed your journey off you and got some rest.” There was a hint of sadness in the woman’s eyes, but she just felt too far away for Visaera to notice. Without any form of verbal response, she simply offered her mother a distracted nod and allowed the handmaidens to prepare her for a bath.

Her mother was wrong, of course. A bath was doing her no good. Even though the water was heated to a perfect temperature to calm her nerves and oils added to inhibit relaxation, Visaera was neither calm nor relaxed. She was still broken and hurt.

She stared at the steaming water with heavy eyes. Everything else in the room faded away until she felt as if she was surrounded by darkness. This surrender fueled It more. The water suddenly felt cold and still. But underneath the surface, It stalked like a shark circling its prey. It brushed its ominous tail across her naked body, leaving shivers and goosebumps where it touched. When It spoke, the voice was like an echo so enchanting she wanted to answer it.

He hasn’t come to see you. But why would he? He wants nothing to do with you.

Visaera’s arms went limp and they sank to the bottom of the tub. She kept her gaze on her knees.

Why fight for something that cannot be attained? For someone that does not want you? It was worthless coming back here. But you know, you know you cannot leave.

She sank deeper into the still water until her body was submerged up to her chin.

Highgarden and all of your efforts are worthless if he will not have you.

Her eyes flashed open with a burning intensity. She found herself staring across to the edge of the tub. Standing at his full length, naked like hours before, was her other half. Her Life. Her breath caught in her throat as a fire ignited in her stomach. But she didn’t dare move an inch from fear that he would disappear in the same hatred she left him earlier. She didn’t want him angry at her anymore. She wanted him to help release the tension and frustration that stiffened her muscles since she arrived. She wanted his long fingers to touch her skin and then bury itself into her core until she found that release.

She wanted him so badly it hurt.

A low chuckle turned her away from him and the echo kept her gaze distracted.

You greedy little bitch. What makes you think he would fall to his knees for you? Why have you when he’s already gotten his fill of, and released his fill with, someone else? Someone better.

Visaera turned back to him, only now he caressed the woman from earlier. The thin excuse of a dress was gone, exposing the most perfect figure she had ever seen in her life. But the woman had her back to her, sitting at the edge of the tub with her legs wrapped tightly against his waist. They moved as one, their moans filling her room and tearing her apart. The heat she felt was gone, leaving her cold and dead inside.

Not quite dead…yet.

She couldn’t stand watching this any longer. Without even taking a deep breath, Visaera fully submerged under the water and closed her eyes to the scene in front of her. If she surrounded herself in absolute darkness, she wouldn’t have to suffer once again from heartbreak.

Under the water, it was quiet. It was serene and oh so welcoming. It wasn’t long before her lungs burned and begged for air, but she didn’t listen. Below the water, she finally found peace and silence from It. She could hardly remember the last time she felt such peace. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to stay under from now on—

“Princess?” Visaera forced her eyes to remain shut tight. No, she would not let this go. Please, let her have her peace. “Princess!”

Frantic hands grabbed at her shoulders and forced her head above the water. Visaera was forced to suck in air back into her lungs, but the suddenness left her coughing while the same hands slapped and rubbed her back. Her eyes stung, but she forced herself to look back to the edge of her tub. However, there was no one there. No evidence that anyone other than this handmaiden had been or was in here with her.

Confused, she turned to the handmaiden that was now wrapping a towel around her shoulders to rub warmth into her. “Who else was with you in this room?” Her voice came out strained and hoarse.

The young woman stopped what she was doing to stare at her in shock. “I’m sorry, Princess. N-No one else was here when I arrived. Just—” Her face paled. She didn’t say anything else as she went back to work.

Visaera turned back to the edge of the tub. No, she knew what she saw. She still felt the betrayal lingering in the last remaining pieces of her poor heart.

Hours later, her bedchamber door opened again. Her mother returned. Visaera briefly watched the woman close the door behind her then approach before gazing back at her reflection. Despite her nap, she could not shake her feelings from earlier. Her blood ran cold at the prospect that she would be seeing Virys again for this damn dinner her mother was forcing their family to have together.

Visaera suppressed a scoff. Their family. Their pathetic excuse of a family that was so broken it was laughable that her mother still tried. No matter how hard she may try, they were not a family. They were just three siblings that tolerated a mother who did not know how to love them equally; who would abandon her child for the sake of not angering her husband. They were just three siblings that had no respect for the father that conceived them. They were just three siblings barely holding on to whatever ounce of love they still had for one another while the younger two watched their own love crumble.

Although her mother spoke, Visaera heard none of it. She avoided the woman’s intense stare. The maid from earlier probably told her about what happened during the bath. But Visaera didn’t want to talk about it. Not without the threat of opening all of her painful wounds. Even now, her own face faded from the mirror as her twin’s took its place. She stared at his eyes, satiated thanks to the woman he fucked before. He hadn’t looked at her like that once since her return. And her heart broke once more fearing that she never would.

“That is a beautiful dress,” her mother said, her voice cutting through her dark cloud of thoughts. “I did not realize the fashion in Highgarden was so…revealing.”

The sky blue dress she chose to wear for dinner tonight — while similar in design to the one she wore during her journey — was a much lighter material she grew accustomed to during her years in Highgarden. It was more fit for warmer weather, but she felt compelled to wear it tonight at the off chance Virys would join them. But it wasn’t exactly the color or the feel of the dress that persuaded her to make the bold choice. It was the low cut design of the front as it barely covered the teasing curves of her breasts that dared her to choose this dress. She may not have been blessed with a full chest like her mother and sisters, but the dress was designed specifically to give off the illusion that she did.

Once the handmaidens finished styling her long silvery curls, Visaera followed behind her mother to collect Saera from her room then travel together for dinner. She was very aware of the fact that they were only collecting her sister. Disappointment sank deep below her stomach as they walked in the opposite direction of Virys’ bedchamber toward the small dining hall.

She couldn’t stop looking toward the entrance doors every few seconds in the hope that Virys would change his mind and join them. But Saera, ever the pragmatist, reminded her not to be too hopeful. After all, countless letters exchanged between the two sisters was proof enough that their stubborn little brother did not change his mind often. Not even for her.

The phantom weight of her heart sank as she took a seat beside her mother at the table once it had been set. She noted that all of her favorites were laid out in front of them. While this normally would have her mouth watering with anticipation and excitement, tonight she could not muster up her appetite. This was not the hunger she wanted to satiate.

But she put on a brave face and filled her plate with whatever she could reach for the sake of her mother and sister. After all, they were the only members of her broken family that remotely cared about her return. They were the only ones that made the effort to welcome her home. So she soldiered through each spoonful while forcing herself to remain present in their conversation.

That is until heavy footsteps cut through their conversation and practically silenced the three women at the dinner table. Visaera was the only one that did not look up at the arrival of the new addition. She didn’t need to look up. Or more importantly, she didn’t want to look up.

Each time their mother and sister said his name was like a cut to her skin. She closed her eyes the moment It returned, ready to continue its whispered torments. Maybe if she didn’t look at him, she could win against Its dark influence. The last thing she wanted to do was appear weak in front of him; to fall apart over just one glance.

But as he approached, she could feel his eyes piercing into her. It sent shivers up and down her spine, tempting and luring her to look up. But she refused with the last of her energy. She was afraid. Afraid of what would happen if she looked upon him fully after what happened earlier in his bedchamber.

That is not to say that she didn’t want to look at him. For three years she held on to every possible memory to keep the image of her beloved clear in her mind. She refused to live a life when his face would become some blurred memory. But she now also had to accept the harsh reality that whatever image she retained of him for the last three years was gone, replaced by a whole new Virys. A Virys that was jaded and full of hatred that cut her deep. This was not the Virys that she wanted to replace the one she held onto so dearly.

Even as he spoke to her, it did not tempt her to look up. She realized she was being so defiant to the one person that loved her unconditionally. Or at least used to love her. But his cold and distant tone even as he tried to initiate conversation was cruel and foreign and it was just so painful to hear. She wanted him to leave. She wanted her old brother back. The one that she hadn’t hurt this badly.

Try as she might, her efforts to avoid looking at Virys did not last very long. Especially as he purposefully placed himself right in front of her at the dinner table. It was while their mother and sister forced conversation to continue among them that Visaera finally lifted her gaze from the pile of vegetables on her plate. She didn’t fully meet his gaze, not yet. Instead she focused on the way his long fingers loosely held his fork on the table. He too hadn’t touched much of the food on his plate. Her eyes slowly traveled upward, noting the crisp sleeves of what she could only conclude was a new shirt. She landed on his shoulders. They were broader than what she last remembered.

But then she hesitated, nervous to let her gaze travel further upward. Instead she lowered down to the rest of his shirt. It fit him perfectly. The fabric hugged and complemented every part of his torso. Then her breath caught in her throat. She recalled what it looked like without a shirt on, his toned muscles and perfect pale skin glistened with sweat. Then she remembered how the rest of his body looked without any clothes on and the conflicting emotions she felt gazing at him. Amidst the heartbreak and betrayal, she remembered the fire his naked form ignited in her and all the desires that accompanied it.

She let out a quiet sigh. He was going to be the death of her. One way or another, his very existence was going to be her absolute end. And if that were to be the case, she should at least let her last memory be of his face.

Visaera didn’t know what to expect when she finally lifted her gaze up to fully meet his. But she braced herself to see the hatred from earlier. However, the eyes that stared back at her inhibited a mixture of emotions within her that quite honestly left her breathless and speechless. She could be a literal statue with the way Virys Targaryen looked at her right now.

His gaze was intense with a fire that could arguably match her own. They showed the hatred she prepared for, but also what she could only describe was hunger. What that hunger was, she had no idea. But it made it impossible for her to keep his gaze for too long. Her cheeks burned causing her to drop her gaze back to her plate. The heat within her boiled now and dripped from between her legs. She suppressed a moan that wanted to escape for fear that everyone at the table would hear. But it was a brutal task. She couldn’t fight back the images that swirled in her mind.

The hall faded away until it was just the two of them. She could still feel his intense gaze on her and she cowered against it. She wanted him to stop looking at her—pleading in her mind for him to look away. She was weak against the images of her practically ripping that crisp, new shirt off of his body. Her legs quivered thinking about how his skin would feel under her fingers, lips and tongue. She wanted to taste him and feel his response to her. She wanted to make him feel good.

More than that whore had earlier.

“Please stop…” Her words were a soft whisper uttered under her breath. But with only four in the hall, everyone at the table heard.

“Did you say something, Visaera?” her mother asked.

Images of Virys with his woman faded into the darkness as she focused back on the present. All eyes were on her now. She looked from her mother and sister’s curious looks while avoiding her brother’s constant stare. Then she shook her head and muttered that she hadn’t said anything important. Whether or not that was enough for her mother and sister, she didn’t know. Nor did she care to find out. She just wanted the torture to end.

There was nothing much she could do though. Any ideas she had to distract from the feelings growing inside her over her brother would only make the situation worse. She was afraid to ask about him knowing all too well thanks to Saera’s reports that nothing had improved after her departure. She winced at the prospect of a harsh lecture from him. But she knew she had to say something. She hadn’t said a single word to him since he took his place at the table.

Maybe she should just say something. Anything. The first thing that escaped her lips.

“I—” missed you. She couldn’t do it.

Coward.

It was too much for her. He was too much for her.

“Might I be excused?” she asked hesitantly, looking at her mother. “I fear the exhaustion from my travels has finally caught up to me.”

This wasn’t entirely a lie. The thrill of being on dragonback had long ago faded leaving her with only exhaustion from the long duration she spent airborne. But truthfully the reason she asked to be excused was to get away from Virys’ continuous gaze.

“Oh, but we haven’t had dessert yet…” her mother said, her voice pleading. “I asked Lady Tyrell if she could send strawberries from Highgarden so that the cook can make strawberry tarts for you.” If she thought using her favorite dessert was going to persuade her to stay, she was greatly mistaken. Her mouth dried at the thought of having strawberry tarts ruined for her because she had to force herself to stay across from Virys a little while longer.

When it was evident that there was no convincing her to stay, Visaera carefully pushed her chair back and stood. She looked from her mother to her sister. Then, after a moment of doubt, she looked at Virys. Her body reacted to his eyes once again causing her to grip at the back of her chair to prevent herself from revealing her moment of weakness.

“Thank you for welcoming me back home,” she told them before she once more excused herself then left the hall.

Visaera refused to leave her bedchamber for the remainder of the evening. And since she made it appear that she was too exhausted from her travels, no visitors came to bother her. However, she couldn’t sleep. Despite how heavy her eyes were and how sore her body felt after being on dragonback for so long, her mind would not quiet down enough to let sleep take over. So she instead took up a spot at her window to gaze blankly in the distance as her mind wandered.

A chill passed her. She shivered as she wrapped her robe tighter around her body. It wasn’t the best evening attire, but it was one of her newer habits she developed in Highgarden that she refused to abandon. She had grown accustomed to going to bed with practically no clothes on. For over a year now, it became insufferable for her to go to bed in a nightgown. Not even the lightest material could eliminate the awkward discomfort from being so hyper aware of the fabric on her skin. But she couldn’t just go to bed naked. She was a princess after all and Gods forbid she ever find herself in a situation where she was not ready to receive someone at a moment’s notice. So her best solution was to go to bed and sleep in a night robe. It was the same material and length as a nightgown, but she could untie it before climbing into bed to lessen the discomfort.

Now that she was back in King’s Landing where it was cooler than Highgarden, she wondered if this arrangement would last very long. She hoped she would be able to adapt enough to continue with the attire. For now, she would just have to soldier on, but she didn’t mind. The cool breeze did help alleviate some of the fire that still burned within her.

Visaera was unsuccessful in shaking the image of Virys from her mind. From his intense, hungry gaze to the body she knew hid under all those clothes, he teased and tortured her in ways she hadn’t realized were possible. Just when she thought she was used to the desire she had for her brother, he proved that she could feel so much more.

Heat dripped down between her legs, running down her smooth thighs. Now in the privacy of her own bedchamber, Visaera released the moan she suppressed for so long. Her brother’s name accompanied it in a soft whisper. Gods, how she longed for him. How she wished that he was here right now.

Her moans turned to frustrated groans. She couldn’t take it any longer. She needed to remedy this frustration before it made her explode.

Visaera climbed onto her bed above her sheets. The last thing she wanted was more heat burdening her. After placing a pillow under her head, she undid her robe and let it fall around her now exposed naked body. A shiver ran through her as another chill invaded her room. But it did nothing to drop the heat that was practically steaming from her skin.

She let out a long exhale as her legs fell naturally apart. After forcing them closed this entire evening, she found comfort in the freedom to let her heat escape. Another moan left her while she closed her eyes and let her bedchamber vanish to be replaced by other surroundings.

Her living arrangements back in Highgarden were much brighter than here in King’s Landing. Its bright colors and ambient lighting from the perfectly placed candles were so warm and comforting. It was serene and was the only way to make her miss home less. Visaera stared longingly at the high ceiling above her four-poster bed. All the while she reveled at the feel of a soft, delicate hand running up her leg. She moaned again, squirming under these touches. They teased so beautifully and made her crave for more. When she looked away from the Tyrell rose looking down at her from the ceiling, she found long brown curls inching closer to her. Her body quivered with anticipation, watching as the hand edged higher up her thigh.

For a split moment her body tensed. But then the long brown curls were accompanied by a gentle voice, so reassuring that she felt herself relax into the bedsheets again.

Marta. How she missed her. While their friendship always remained in the shadows and privacy of their bedchambers, Visaera considered her one of her dearest friends. Were anyone to find out about them, neither would survive, but it was a risk they were so willing to take just to be together. It was through their friendship that she learned there was more to life than whatever her Septa had limited her teachings to; the life of a princess of Westeros. Marta, her dear and wonderful friend, taught her what it was like to truly live. And that alone was what made Visaera love her so much. She was one of the few people in all of Westeros that knew just how to silence The Darkness.

Visaera could feel her touches on her skin. They no longer left goosebumps. Instead her skin clung to the warmth it left behind. All the while she could focus on the soft whispers of her companion and tutor’s instructions.

She lingered on the way Marta taught her how to feel; to not be afraid of the release. And as she continued to focus on the gentle touches slowly creeping up her leg, her own hands brushed across her torso, tracing her nails against her flat stomach and then up to cup and fondle her breasts. Her hands needed to hold something before it drove her crazy.

Gods, it felt so good. But she knew and impatiently waited for it to get better.

Just then, Marta’s sweet, reassuring voice was gone. And when her eyes shot wide open, she found herself staring at long silver locks. Shocked, she blinked a couple times. But by then, the long hair was cut short and stuck out at odd angles as if hands had run through it. The head was so dangerously close to her center and she briefly stiffened.

But the low voice urged her to once more relax.

“Ñuha Prumia…” Visaera’s moan came out as a hopeless whimper. The voice was filled with so much love and warmth she couldn’t control how her body reacted. Her back arched in an attempt to inch closer to the voice.

“Ñuha Abrar,” she called back pleadingly.

Her eyes shut tight at the electricity that coursed through her from the bundle of nerves between her legs. Her moans grew louder, but they were deafened by the rush of euphoria that clouded her thoughts. She couldn’t make out what was real or not. But whether or not it was real, she focused on the burning desire that surged through her while he was between her legs. Gods, she wanted him to the point that it hurt. Her words were pleading, begging for more.

As one hand continued to fondle her breasts, the other brushed through his soft hair in an effort to keep him there. She didn’t want him to stop until she reached her release.

It would come any second now. She could feel it at the bottom of her stomach. Her head dug into her pillow as she urged it lower. By this point, whatever words she said were unknown to her. But she didn’t care. She just needed him and the way he made her feel.

“Virys!” His name escaped her just as her climax waged war. Her body tensed then shook and she breathed out every moan until she was limp and breathless. Her head felt light and for the first time all day, it was quiet. She was alone and—

Visaera opened her eyes to find that she was now staring at a dark ceiling. All around her was Targaryen red. The last of the serene warmth she felt was gone, leaving her with the constant chill that crept through her open window. With that cold, she lifted her head off the pillow to peek at the space between her legs. They were still open and her heat still gushed out onto the sheets, but any signs that someone had been there to bring her to the apex of pleasure was gone.

As if they hadn’t been there in the first place. ​

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[JINFINITE]

"My Heart..."​

PRINCE VIRYS TARGARYEN ⊰ THE SLIGHTED DRAGON

VIRYS (COMMON TONGUE) tab VIRYS (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

It was hard to say what exactly Virys thought would happen at dinner. Did he really expect Visaera to open up to him or to apologize for all her wrongs? Did he think she would just resume as normal despite how she had quite literally run from him earlier in his bedchambers? Likely Virys himself did not even know what he wanted out of it, but he had shown up, fighting against every part of his body screaming at him not to. He had shown up and actually sat through more than his other half did despite the fact that he was the one known for having such a short temper and very little patience.

Visaera’s presence itself was such a distraction that he hardly touched his food. Even after she left he just sat in silence staring down her ghost in the chair across from him. He watched the way her hair fell with her limited movements, the way her chest rose with each breath she took, and the way she kept him on the edge of his seat waiting for her eyes to meet his. But they never did, and neither did the ghost she left behind.

The lack of contact and connection was infuriating. No different than the torture of seeing her face in his own reflection but being unable to reach out and touch her. Virys didn’t respond to their mother or sister when they tried to speak to him some time after Visaera’s desparture. He did not even lift his head to acknowledge that he had heard them—honestly it was debatable whether in fact he had heard them or not. All his concentration was pooled into Visaera’s empty chair until at last it all caught up with him and he abruptly got to his feet, his chair screeching as it was pushed back and causing the two women to pause in their careful conversation, watching warily as their very own dragon finally made a move. The room was tense for a moment though in the end Virys did not say a word and simply left on his own, not even closing the door behind him on the way out. It was as though mentally he was in another place entirely…which he was.

Virys was long gone and unable to concentrate on anything in the present. The day had taken its toll on him already leaving him absolutely exhausted. He couldn’t even find the strength to be angry, his earlier naps had clearly not helped him recover at all. Visaera’s actions, or lack of, had worn him down beyond what was manageable and once back in his chambers he went directly to his bed. The sheets were still unmade and messy from his late morning fornication, and he did not even bother to strip out of the nice clothes Saera had brought him. Virys just collapsed sloppily across the bed, hugging the pillow close and letting his eyes shut as a heaviness sunk into his heart.

It wasn’t often he experienced these deep feelings, usually his emotions were rather flighty and hard to pin down. One moment he might be annoyed and the next bored half to death. But right now he just felt so completely and utterly defeated.

Over the years he had spent many a day thinking of all the things he would do or say if he ever saw Visaera again. But today was the day and he hadn’t followed through on anything. He had been so amped up for so long with no outlet for his hurt, but seeing her did nothing to release it all. Everything was still bottled up inside and it was breaking him down from the inside out like acid.

He was so torn between wanting to smash his lips against her own and wanting to smash her head into the wall—no….he would never go that far…but Virys’ hands still trembled with his pent up rage. Why hadn’t he said anything when he saw her? He had had two perfectly good opportunities to make her aware of his pain, but all he had managed to do was watch her. His mind wandering off with her image and twisting his thoughts leaving him more and more confused over what it was he was feeling.

In fact Visaera was so prominent in his thoughts that when he fell asleep shortly after his head hit the pillow, she was quick to infiltrate his mind via a dream. It was a nice change compared to the nightmares that usually haunted him when he slept. The smell of burning flesh and sounds petrified screams so deeply ingrained in his memories that they frequented him when he dropped his guard. But this time when he woke in a sweat it was not out of fear but rather hurt and anger. His body hot and bothered over everything Visaera had done to him in his dream.

But his room was pitch black when he woke, a clear sign that it was still the middle of the night. Having fallen asleep so early it made sense for him to wake up at an odd hour as well and Virys groaned as he rolled over, curling in on himself in a poor attempt to relieve the constriction that tormented his lower half. But when that didn’t work he found himself fumbling with the closures of his pants, desperate to free himself and find the release his dream had kept from him.

He’d been so close— they’d been so close. After imagining it all afternoon long, he’d finally felt Visaera’s soft skin against his own. Her hands had run through his hair, her heavenly voice giggling at the way the silver was as untamable as Virys himself and stuck out in every direction. Their bodies had fit together perfectly, a lock and key made for one another and unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her back pressed into the wall of the very room they had shared back in Dragonstone.

That had been the first clue that it had been a dream. They had long left the happiness of their childhood home behind. The second clue was that in the beginning of it she hadn’t been wearing those revealing dresses she brought back from Highgarden. Instead Visaera had worn much warmer garments. Clothes that caused her to shiver with every layer that was removed and further exposed her to the cold air of Dragonstone. She wasn’t cold for long though, neither of them were. The room had heated up so quickly—perhaps even too quickly as that was likely what had pulled Virys from his dream and dropped him back into his sweaty mess of reality.

His heart was racing, blood pumping, adrenaline flying; he was so frustratingly close, but with every flick of his wrist the physical memory of his dream faded more and more, quickly leaving him with nothing to help him reach the release he had been chasing so desperately for.

The feeling had passed, leaving a void of lonely emptiness and self loathing. That same disgust from earlier in the day had returned and his whole body stiffened at the sickening feeling as a small lump welled up in the back of his throat. His hand loosened its grip before wiping blindly across the sheets, trying to rid himself of the sensation. This was an unfortunate outcome that had been increasingly common for Virys over the past year. He’d always had a mixed relationship with sex, but lately finishing was becoming more like a chore than a reward. And it was near impossible to achieve on his own, but this dream of Visaera had gotten him closer than ever before.

And maybe that was the reason that had him clambering out of bed and wandering the dimly lit corridors until he reached her room. He went so far as to place his hand on the handle, half tempted to turn it and let himself in without knocking as he had their entire life. Nothing before would have ever kept her from him. But now he instead leaned his heated forehead against the cool wood and closed his eyes, forcing a slow but shaky exhale.

Was she even still awake? It must be so late now, the middle of the night at least if not nearing dawn. She had never turned him away before if he came to her after a nightmare—but this time it wasn’t a nightmare. This time his dream had been paradise and it was real life that was the nightmare.

Virys’ hand tightened on the handle, fighting with himself over whether or not to turn it and go to his sister’s side. What would he say? What would she say? Would she just leave him to suffer as she had for the last three years? Would she flee from him again? Would she scream or shout at him?

An anxiety had crept into his heart while wondering how she would receive him but it quickly escalated back into reignited rage. She had practically ignored him all through dinner and never came to see him afterwards. He had come down to see her, but clearly she did not feel the same towards him. She wasn’t still holding onto the love they once shared for one another. And she had no intention of apologizing for what she had done to him. She had come back with her own agenda and was making it perfectly clear that he was not to be a part of it.

The heat of his arousal was quick to transform back into the flames of his temper and he stormed away from her door without looking back. But Virys did not return to his own room, in fact he didn’t even stay in the Red Keep. Still dressed in Saera’s gift and too upset to feel the cold of the night air, Virys walked quickly and with purpose, intending to head straight for Flea Bottom to spend the rest of his night with someone who actually cared about him. Even if he was paying for her love. But a roar from the skies stopped him in his tracks and had him searching the stars in search of the dragon whose voice it belonged to.

That had been Moonfyre, it had to have been. Even though he had not seen his sister’s dragon in three years, he was very familiar with all the others who lived in the Pit and none of them sounded like that. Was he not in the Pits himself? Or maybe Visaera was out of bed after all?

Virys’ curiosity ended up being strong enough to change his course from the brothels to The Dragon Pit. He wasn’t exactly hopeful, in fact if anything he was hoping to not run into his sister tonight. Not after the dream he’d had. He wouldn’t be able to think straight in her presence right now. And luckily for Virys, upon entering the Pit, Visaera and Moonfyre were no where to be seen. And when questioned, the Dragon Keepers on duty explained that no one had been able to bring Moonfyre in since he had arrived. Well that made sense then why he was flying around on his own in the dead of night.

Visaera and her stubborn dragon were pushed from his thoughts when a cross between a purr and a chirp called for his attention. Turning over his shoulder, a pair of golden yellow eyes had caught sight of and remained fixed on him from across the vast expanse that was The Dragon Pit. Finally someone who loved and cared for him unconditionally and could grant him a comfort greater than anyone else could offer. Even Visaera.

Yena, more commonly known as The Gray Wraith, was his bonded dragon and that bond they shared was unlike most other dragon rider pairs. She was more like his mother than the queen was, and her protective nature when it came to Virys was dangerously strong. She was the only one in the world to be able to challenge his temper and put him in his place without fear of retaliation. She gave him a sense of safety and security and no one would dare bother him in her presence. Which was maybe why when morning did finally arrive he was laying on the ground at her side. Yena’s head was nestled against him and gently pressing his body into hers, making his size pale in comparison to her greatness. Meanwhile one of her translucent wings protectively draped over him while her half open eyes kept careful watch. No one would be able to sneak up on them so long as she was there.

But as the early morning turned late, Virys finally stirred. The ground had not been particularly comfortable nor had his sleep been particularly restful. But he was unable to stay asleep now that the day had begun. He didn’t bother brushing off his clothes as he got to his feet, it wasn’t like there was anyone here to impress anyways. The Dragon Keepers had seen him covered head to toe in mud, rain and blood. What difference was a little dust and dirt?

Usually The Dragon Pit was a peaceful escape for him. He could come here and just immerse himself in their world and forget all about his own. But at the sound of his own name, that peace shattered violently in his heart as he looked up to stare defiantly as his older brother, Jaehaerys, approached. It was almost as though Virys was daring him to comment on his disheveled appearance or the fact he quite obviously spent the night in the Dragon Pit rather than the comfort and safety of his own bedchambers. Though Virys would argue he felt better here in the Pit with Yena than in the suffocating prison that was the Red Keep.

“Did you hear? Visaera is home,” Virys stared on in silent detest and disbelief. Obviously Visaera was home. Besides the fact that she arrived on dragonback so it would have been hard for anyone to miss…she was his sister. His twin sister. His other half and soulmate. His heart and his life. His past, present and future. Of course he knew she was home. He knew everything concerning her. Except for why she left him. That was the one thing that he could not understand. Why would she abandon him for so many years? Why would she leave him to endure the abuse their family put him through? And why would she then ignore and avoid him upon her return? Did she not miss him as he had missed her? Had she not gone every second of everyday longing for him and wondering about him as he had longed and wondered about her? Did she not crave him the way he craved her from the moment they had laid eyes on one another?

But those were questions for him to brood over on his own in private. Not in front of the brother who had betrayed him. Who did Jaehaerys think he was? Mentioning their sister so casually…how dare he!? He had no right to so much as speak her name, and especially not to Virys.

But Virys hadn’t spoken a single word to Jaehaerys in years and he wasn’t about to start now. It only took a second for Yena to feed off his energy and sensing his discomfort, placed herself intimidatingly between them, completely blocking both brothers’ view of the other. Her lips curled back to reveal teeth long and sharp enough to go completely through a man and a threatening low growl rumbled through her. When Yena fell silent and moved her head aside, Virys was able to see that Jaehaerys had taken the not so subtle hint and left. His mother dragon then nudged against him, easily causing Virys to stumble a step but that was what it ended up taking for him to look away from where Jaehaerys once stood. His lungs begged for air and as he gasped out of his fixation the cold air burned on its way through his body. And as his hand rested against Yena’s face, stroking around her eye as he felt his anger melt back to manageable levels.

Although it only lasted a couple minutes at most.

Jaehaerys’ mention of Visaera reawakened the feelings he had felt at dinner last night. That desperate need to be near her at all times. To remind her that even if she wanted nothing to do with him, now that she was home she would be just as tortured as he had been for the last three years. But the part of him that wasn’t fueled by sadistic revenge also missed her terribly, his dream replaying through his head now as though it were a true memory and not a wishful fantasy of his subconscious.

And that would be why once he found her in the Keep, his eyes were unable to stray, mentally undressing her where she stood yet simultaneously still heated in his deep rage.
”Virys,” He didn’t hear Saera even though she stood at his side. But when she reached to touch his arm he immediately pulled back, eyes still not leaving his twin, ”I’m sorry…but, Virys, you should really go wash up and change…” She chose to not point out what a mess he looked, and the obvious fact that he still wore yesterday’s clothes. This wasn’t the first time he had come home still in the previous day’s clothes, and she didn’t have the heart right now to ask where he’d been. But if only she had asked then his story of staying with Yena would have quieted her assumptions and concerns.

Virys himself had no desire or motivation to clarify and clear his name. He had learned long ago that it did not matter whether or not he spoke the truth, people would believe whatever they wanted to so why bother trying to explain himself? There was a sense of freedom he gained by not caring what others thought of him. Though that freedom was easily misinterpreted as reckless, impulsive, selfish, dangerous. Virys did whatever he wanted and there were few who could keep him in line, especially after losing Visaera three years ago. She was his everything and he had lost her. He had lost his everything and with it any sense of self respect or pride.

That would be why during the little get-together their mother organized later in the week, while everyone else was socializing, Virys made no effort to engage in conversation. He was present, and would speak when spoken to, but for the most part he just watched on as man after man told his sister how much she had grown during her time away. He watched as they all made not so subtle touches to her arm or shoulder in an attempt to be personable. And he watched as Jaehaerys arrived and crossed over, clearly on course towards, ”Visaera!”

For once since she returned his eyes left her, now locked on Jaehaerys instead. Virys was quick to close the gap between him and his sister, intent on getting to her before Jaehaerys and not allowing their brother the time or space to interact with her. His body moved on its own then before his mind could approve whether or not this was a good idea: his hand settled on her waist, commanding all of her attention as he now mirrored Yena’s earlier actions and placed himself between her and their brother.

However he apparently wasn’t quite as threatening as his dragon counterpart as Jaehaerys continued his approach until he was within the twin’s social bubble. As he came to a stop Virys’ grip on Visaera’s waist tightened, still staring hard at their brother but he did not return the greeting Jaehaerys offered them. Partly because of his decision to never speak to Jaehaerys ever again, but also because he was realizing what he had done in the warmth he felt radiating off of Visaera. This was the closest they had been since their exchanged kiss when he left for war. He was touching her! But just as his hold loosened, Jaehaerys spoke again and it triggered his hand to tighten.

His stomach was fluttering and flipping being so close to her and he could feel an all too familiar heat building up inside. But as familiar as it was, he had never experienced it in such a scenario as this. It ended up being such an intense distraction for him that he stopped paying attention to Jaehaerys’ presence, all his focus pooling into Visaera at his side. His thumb unconsciously caressed where they remained connected at her waist, but each pass was slower and slower until all of a sudden Visaera moved out of his reach as she leaned in to better hear a discreet something Jaehaerys was sharing with her.

Virys’ entire being faltered at that moment. It was like every cell in his body forgot how to function. His breath caught in his throat, watching helplessly as Visaera chose Jaehaerys over him. Or so his eyes processed it. Rather than stay by his side, in his grasp, she had moved closer to Jaehaerys and Virys’ heart dropped into a black abyss of pain. While his two siblings shared their moment, Virys took a hesitant step backwards, then another, on the third he turned completely without offering a verbal reasoning for his leaving.

Visaera had made her choice. He had tried to protect her from Jaehaerys. From the one who had hurt them. But she had so openly chosen him and it was sending Virys into shock. He could not process anything after that, the next ten minutes would all be a blur as he sought out a drink attendant. But despite his immediate hurt, Virys found he couldn’t look away and once drink was in hand he resumed watching from his safe distance.

He was out of ear shot, he couldn’t tell what they spoke about. But the second a smile crossed Visaera’s face, that was when the remainder of his heart shattered. Along with the glass of wine he’d had in his hand. The pressure of his angered grip turned the glass into too many pieces to count, and while Virys himself did not react to the incident or new pain in his hand, a couple ladies nearby shrieked in surprise drawing the attention of the party towards him.

Virys was still immune to the stares of others. He did not care that he'd caused a scene. All he cared about was that his sister was laughing and smiling and happy with the very person who had destroyed her. Or her memory at least. But as she turned to see what the commotion was, his eyes weren’t sad, or hurt. They were lit up like wildfire; far too focused on her to be concerned about the blood slipping between his fingers. It didn’t matter anyways. His Heart had made her choice, and once again it did not include him.

After nearly a week of following her around, as unshakeable as her own shadow—after nearly a week of keeping himself on the edge of her life and completely unavoidable—after nearly a week of ensuring she knew she would never be able to rid herself of his presence…all it took was that one moment for all his motivation and determination to collapse under the weight of his pain. And for the first time in nearly a week, Virys was the one to leave first. Turning his back on her and pushing his way out of the party like a wounded animal running to hide.​

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[feelsHASkilig]

"My Life"​

PRINCESS VISAERA TARGARYEN ⊰ THE LITTLE JEWEL

VISAERA (COMMON TONGUE) tab VISAERA (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

Her time back in King’s Landing had not improved since that first night. While she acknowledged that her mother and Saera, mostly Saera after a point, tried to lessen the tension, nothing could change the fact that the Targaryen twins were still purposely not talking to each other. The people that roamed the Red Keep had grown accustomed to the negative effects of Visaera’s absence over the years. Perhaps they thought her return would resolve all the conflict. No one expected that the distance and tension between their precious princess and the vexed prince would make walking the halls worse.

But very few to no one dared try to remedy the situation. Most bowed their heads and pretended not to notice, too cowardly to upset the princess and too afraid to anger the dragon prince. The only ones that dared bring up Virys in Visaera’s presence despite her reaction, were Saera and her older brother, Jaehaerys.

Jaehaerys first came to see her the morning after her return. Of her four half-siblings from their father’s first marriage, he was the only one that she liked. He was the only one that actually acknowledged hers and her sister and brother’s existence without an ounce of disdain. Arguably, she might have loved him in the same way she loved Saera, but his loyalty to his pure blood siblings outweighed his adoration for his half-siblings and it left Visaera feeling a little guarded around him. But still, he was the first person outside her immediate family that took the time to see her. Not even her father offered her a second of his time.

The only time Visaera saw her older brother was in the mornings. Outside of her handmaidens, he was the first person she saw and the one she often shared breakfast with. Every morning since that first visit, he came right after her handmaidens finished dressing her for the day with a servant from the kitchen carrying a heavy tray of food to be shared between them. It was during these mornings that she really got a feel of just what happened and what is happening in King’s Landing since she left. More importantly, that was how she found out about the now broken relationship between her older brother and her twin brother.

It was this type of story that confirmed why she should be so guarded around Jaehaerys. He gave their eldest brothers too much credit, thinking that after over ten years they would finally stop being such bullies to their younger half-siblings. But it turns out they were nowhere near done being a terror upon them, especially Virys. Visaera, of course, knew exactly why her two eldest brothers treated her other half the way they did. To put it frankly, they were jealous. Ever since their arrival in King’s Landing when they were children, Virys—and sometimes even Visaera—was an unofficial threat to their standings in King’s Landing. Unofficial because she knew it was all in their head. After all, no one dared challenge her eldest brother’s claim to the throne. He was without debate the heir as their father’s firstborn son. But there was something about the twins that put them on edge. But while they often ignored her, especially her second eldest brother, they were relentless against Virys. Nothing about that behavior changed while she was gone.

Normally, Visaera would have immediately sided with Virys upon hearing about the incident that tore him apart from Jaehaerys. After all, he was responsible—whether unknowingly or not—for causing her beloved so much pain. But when she saw Jaehaerys’ eyes drop in shame upon hearing that she had been looking for a shawl she suspected had been left behind when she left, she couldn’t help lending him an ear as he finally confessed the sin he committed against their little brother. When he was asked if he regretted his actions, he did not hesitate to answer in the affirmative. But there was nothing to be done about it. The two brothers hadn’t spoken to each other since, or at least, Virys refused to speak to Jaehaerys.

So when her brother theorized that Virys would maybe reconsider now that she was back, and could possibly replace the shawl he helped regretfully destroy, she willingly offered to help mend that bridge. Even if her own was still hanging completely detached and far away.

Her afternoons were usually spent with Saera. Sometimes their mother would accompany them. Sometimes when they insisted on walking through the gardens for fresh air and carefree gossip, some ladies of the court would tag along with their own fits of giggles. These ladies in particular always wanted to hear about her time in Highgarden, about Deric and the other men that served under House Tyrell. Visaera was always willing to oblige the curiosity of others. After all, it wasn’t like being away in Highgarden had been all hell. Yes, she still carried the emotional damage from having been pulled away from her family and home, but the Tyrells and all that served under them did what they could to make her feel welcome. She would never think to sully Lady Tyrell and her hospitality.

But despite her easy mornings with Jaehaerys and her carefree afternoons with Saera, her evenings were always spent in darkness. Whether it was darkness spent in euphoric bliss or the literal presence of The Darkness, it was all because of Virys.

In the days since her return, he made no efforts to hide the fact that he was following her around court. Shadowing. That was the word Saera used. Whatever it was that he was doing, it tortured Visaera. She wanted him at her side. She wanted him to be the one she shared breakfast with in the mornings. She wanted to feel his warmth as they walked along the gardens in the afternoons. Instead, he was absent during her mornings and a far away looming presence in the afternoon. The only time he ever kept her company was during the evenings, alone in her room.

It was cruel how the only time he left her alone throughout the day was the only time he became her welcoming companion. But it was not in the way she wanted. Instead of his physical company, in her bed, she only had the memory of him and her fantasies of him to help her fight against The Darkness. She learned from that first night what just the right thought of him could do to silence It and keep her safe. So every night after bidding her family good night, she would linger a second longer on Virys’ silent, intense gaze to bring with her back to her bedchamber. For the rest of the night, she would take that last memory and extend it to whatever fantasy she could conjure that night. Some nights she brought herself to release with the image of his head between her thighs as he tortured the sensitive skin at her core with his mouth, his hard back flexed while she ran her hand through his hair. Other nights she imagined what his hands could do to her, guiding her through her pleasure while he kissed her fiercely. One night she came to a near screaming release when she drowned in the thought of what his manhood must feel like inside her, moving with her in a way that felt so right and so natural to them. They were one after all.

But that was the first and only time she entertained such a fantasy.

The morning after that night, her handmaidens woke her and only had enough time to help her change out of her night robe before others entered her bedchamber. Jaehaerys and his usual tray of food was nowhere in sight. Instead she watched dumbfounded and confused as her mother followed behind the Grand Maester and one of the septas that currently served under the Red Keep. None of the three offered her much explanation as her handmaidens were dismissed to stand outside the now closed door and she was instructed to return to her bed. When she looked to her mother for answers, the woman gave none. Instead she looked as if she was fighting to hide her distress behind a calm, quiet expression. Meanwhile, the Grand Maester insisted that she lay back on her bed while the accompanying septa stood behind and watched with a guarded expression.

All Visaera could recall after her lost battle with the Grand Maester was his cold fingers invading her and then a distant dread. The dread only worsened when she heard the door to her bedchamber open once more followed by a croaked, “Princess.” Visaera laid absolutely still as she strained her hearing to extend to where the Grand Maester and her father stood and spoke. In the heavy silence, she didn’t even dare breathe. Whether they were speaking at a normal volume or she manifested her hearing to reach their whispered voices, she managed to pick up “not compromised” and “maidenhead”. But when she swore she heard Virys’ name leave her father’s lips, she shot right up and stared at her mother. The woman was still where she last saw her, her back pressed against the wall at the end of the bed, but now her face was a strange mixture of relief and defeat.

Then, without even a single word to her, everyone left. This short time alone was enough for It to return.

After that morning, Visaera didn’t welcome her fantasies of Virys into her bed any longer. In fact, she nearly avoided her bed entirely to instead sit at her open window. She didn’t and couldn’t sleep from then on, plagued and haunted by It and its vengeful return. And it was ruthless. She lost count of how many times It persuaded her—almost successfully once or twice—to lean far enough over her window. To jump.

On the day of the get-together to celebrate her return to King’s Landing, Visaera was tired and it showed. Whether it was because she had a fitful sleep or she hadn’t slept at all, her handmaidens spent an extra hour making her more presentable for her party. This included styling her hair so that it hid her sullen and sharp cheeks, applying powder over the dark circles under her eyes and a bit of rouge to add color to her too pale complexion. In an effort to hopefully keep the guest from looking too closely at her face, she was put in a deep red dress that cut low in the front to accentuate her breasts, but was also open at the back. If it weren’t for her recent thoughts, she would have looked at herself in the mirror and revel at the absolute mischief this dress would allow her with Virys in the same space.

It exerted a ton of energy from her to hide her darkness from all the guests. But after years and years of training, she hid it well behind a shining bright smile. She greeted and spoke with all her guests, some she already reacquainted with and others that traveled all this way to see her. The latter were mostly the men that once competed for her hand. Many lords and sons of lords. Most were, begrudgingly once they took sight of her, now married to other highborn ladies. While the others still held onto their bachelor status, smiling easily at her and shamelessly flirting as if she wasn’t already engaged to someone else. All of them did not waste the opportunity to touch her, whether it was on her shoulders or on her bare arms. One particular second son from House Lannister even went so far as to touch her back as he excused himself. But by then Visaera hadn’t felt anything; too numb to bother.

What made matters worse was that Virys still had not approached her. She had long ago started throwing multiple hints at her brother to come to her, but each time she did he was either not paying attention or downright refused. The last couple days though, she abandoned her efforts, too tired and too haunted to try. But he never relented to remain her other dark shadow, even now with so many people between them. When was he going to end this torture? When she finally succumbed to Its temptations and welcomed her eternal darkness?

Over a long sip of wine, Visaera peeked over the top of her glass at her twin brother. For once, he was not watching her every move as he chatted with some new highborn lady now residing in the Keep. The way she batted her long lashes at him widened the deep, dark hole that swirled in the pit of her stomach. The wine she drank very nearly came right back up when she noted a tall figure in gold approaching her. It was Jaehaerys, with his charming smile and bouncing silver hair. He seemed the only one of their entire family to have hair that possessed such a skill.

For the first time in days, Visaera could feel The Darkness slither away reluctantly as a genuine smile now spread across her face watching her older brother approach.

Then suddenly a familiar voice called out her name and cut through her concentration. Almost immediately her head turned in its direction. Her stomach turned, partially in disbelief that she heard the voice at all.

This felt like a dream. For days she longed and wished for the moment Virys would finally abandon being her extra shadow to approach. But now, she just couldn’t believe it was happening. Everything about him as he grew closer just felt so surreal. She wanted so badly to pinch herself, to prove that her wish was finally coming true and they would finally have the reunion they so rightfully deserved.

But as soon as Virys stepped into her bubble, her tongue went numb while her mind went wild. All at once she became hyper aware of the placement of his hand on her waist. She wanted to groan in protest and beg him to move his hand a couple inches to touch the bare skin of her lower back. It was right there! She was practically inviting him to touch her skin. She would have done it herself, but her arms felt heavy and limp at her sides. Quite frankly, the only thing she could do once Virys pulled her close to him was stare wide eyed at him and completely ignore what she was doing just a moment ago.

That is until Jaehaerys’ voice broke through her reverie and she vaguely remembered that she was supposed to be feeling happy that her older brother was here.

But she couldn’t focus on that happiness, not while Virys was finally right beside her, touching her. Holding her. She wanted to scream with joy that he was letting her in at last. But also she was just so lost in the feel of him, it was just so different…but so invigorating. What once felt like home in his arms now felt like flames enveloping her wherever he touched her. It was impossible to focus on anything outside of just his touch alone, she couldn’t even focus clearly on Virys. Her breath caught and then shuddered out each time she felt his thumb brush against her waist, at the thin fabric of her dress. She ached with frustration that his fingers were not on her skin. But even if she wanted to remedy the error, she still felt her tongue go numb and her arms fall limp. Her body betrayed her for the primal pleasure she felt just being here with him right now.

She never thought she would ever feel such pure happiness again right after she thought It was going to win her over. It was bliss. Pure, unadulterated bliss. It was the love that still clung to hope deep in the very heart that suffered break after break this whole week.

Having been so lost in this pure bliss, Visaera hadn’t noticed what was going on around her. Like the way she shivered every time Virys’ thumb brushed against her. Or how his grip loosened, but tightened almost immediately. More importantly, she completely overlooked the way her brothers looked at one another. She just let her body go into autopilot just so that she could focus on nothing but this dream come true.

That was until the connection broke and suddenly Visaera found herself leaning closer to the wrong brother as he joked in a hushed whisper that he should probably get her shawl if she’s so cold. She blinked, realizing too late what was going on. After taking in Jaehaerys’ teasing wink, she turned just in time to watch Virys turn away from them, from her, and stalk away. Confused, she turned her gaze back to Jaehaerys as if he had an answer to what just happened. But he was still chuckling at their little, not so funny, inside joke to pay attention to the mood shift between the twins.

“You two really would put our brother and sister to shame,” Jaehaerys said suddenly. Visaera turned to look at him, having been watching Virys take a glass from a passing attendant. She hadn’t caught a word he just said. But instead of repeating himself, he nodded in the direction of the two late-comers that just arrived and caused quite a commotion. Their eldest brother and sister arrived arm in arm, appearing ever the regal future king and queen of Westeros. Leave it to them to appear late for a party that was celebrating someone else. Not that Visaera minded too much. She rarely paid them any mind these days. Not when she had more important matters that required her attention.

But still, she returned her attention to Jaehaerys as he added in a quieter voice, “Even though those two are supposed to be a love match and have been married for years, they look like an arranged marriage compared to you and our dear little brother when you two are side by side.” Something about her and her other half being compared to a married couple, even if it was their brother and sister, brought up a surge of happiness through Visaera that she couldn’t help beaming.

A sudden commotion on the other end of the party turned Visaera’s attention away from one brother to another. She first noticed the shock from the people around him, how the ladies covered their mouths and looked near ready to faint. But from where she was standing with Jaehaerys, she couldn’t tell that anything was wrong…save for the look on his face.

Her smile faltered. Something was wrong. And it wasn’t until she watched him turn from her and walk away again did she see it. Blood. It was slipping between his fingers and leaving a red path in his wake.

Without a word to the brother beside her, Visaera flagged down the nearest servant and ordered he call for the Grand Maester. She waited for the servant to make his way through the whispering crowd before running after Virys.

“Virys, wait!” she called out to him. His long legs and strides led them out to the garden path away her party by the time she caught up with him. But even then, he never slowed down and almost acted like he hadn’t heard her. Her heart stopped at the realization, shaking her head before It had a moment to return and stop her. She was motivated this time to not let It in now that she was actually winning.

Visaera ran the last remaining steps that separated her from her beloved, releasing one hand holding up her skirts to reach out to him. Her fingertips barely caught his shirt sleeve, but she clung to it and pulled him to a stop.

“Virys, you’re hurt,” she said in a gentle voice. “Please, let’s sit first. I’ve called for the Maester.” As she led him off the path to a nearby bench, she thought she felt him pull from her.

The tension between them as they sat and waited for the Grand Maester to arrive racked Visaera with confusion and doubt. She wanted to believe she hadn’t dreamt of earlier, of the way he approached her and held her so affectionately. Of the way his strong arm around her waist felt so protective and made her feel safe. Of the love that was so obviously still between them. She couldn’t have imagined the hope she felt knowing that he didn’t hate her after all. And yet, here they sat, silent and as if they were worlds apart. Why did it feel like he was pushing her away again?

These were the thoughts that tortured her when the Grand Maester finally arrived with a fresh roll of bandages and a salve in a purple bottle. Even as she watched as the old man worked to clean and wrap Virys’ cut hand—ignoring the memory of those same old fingers touching her, invading her—she worked through all the doubt. It just had to be true that they were still them. That they were still in love. That they were okay.

But once the Grand Maester finished his work and excused himself, Virys wasted no time leaving her on the bench without a glance back at her or another word. Her blood ran cold.

“Virys?” she called to him, pushing off the bench to once more run after him. “Brother, please wait!”

“Virys…” Her voice weakened from the fear rising up inside her. Desperation fueled her forward and kept her moving. “Ñuha Abrar…” That was all she needed to say to get him to stop. But when he did, Visaera knew instantly that it was a mistake, that he should have kept walking away.

Her heart literally stopped beating when she stopped in front of him. Eyes wide, she couldn’t turn away from him or his gaze. No. A glare. His eyes shot daggers right into her, bringing her to the brink of destruction. Fear soon overpowered and her body responded as it braced itself for what was about to come. What she hoped to avoid this whole week while she gave him the distance she thought he needed before returning to her.

As she watched the words practically surge up his long, slender throat, Visaera took a small step back. As if that was going to protect her from the venom aimed right at her. But she was now flanked from both sides: Virys ready to attack from the front while It charged with a surprise sneak attack from behind. ​

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[JINFINITE]

"My Heart..."​

PRINCE VIRYS TARGARYEN ⊰ THE SLIGHTED DRAGON

VIRYS (COMMON TONGUE) tab VIRYS (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

Nothing ever hurt Virys anymore. He had been pushed to the ground and beaten black and blue. He had been stabbed and slashed, endured broken bones and burns that would have grown men screaming. Between being the subject of his brothers’ torment and the battles he had been thrust into, Virys had more combat experience than some men twice his age. And so breaking a glass in his bare hand was nothing after all his prior injuries. Even though the glass had cut deep, slicing through tissue and revealing all that he was made of, it still hadn’t hurt. Nothing could hurt him….well, nothing could physically hurt him. Because no amount of physical pain could compare to the three year long heartbreak Visaera had put him through.

It had taken all this time for those wounds to finally begin to scab and scar over, and then the second—the split second that the words left Visaera’s mouth it all came flooding back in. She had ripped the fresh scab off and with it tore the beginnings of new skin, thus ruining any chance of healing on his own.

Those words. Those damn words. The very words that he had thought he would never get to hear again had become the ones he hated the most.

Nuha Abrar.

My Life.

His breath had caught in his throat but he did not wait long enough to realize he could not breathe. Virys’ attention zeroed in on his other half and the world around them suddenly became distant and mute. As though trapped in an echo chamber with just each other. The Red Keep could have been up in flames and falling down all around them and he would not have even noticed because every fiber of his being was focused on Visaera. He approached quickly, a dragon making the final descent towards his prey with the fire in his belly ready to reduce her to ashes that would scatter with a single beat of his wings and he would never again have to suffer her cruelty.

“You don’t get to call me that,” Each word was sharp as the glass that had cut him open, however Virys did not raise his voice with her, at least not yet. And in fact as he continued on it even dropped down to a borderline whisper, only audible within their private bubble, ”You chose your fucking life, and I’m not in it. Am I?“ He paused as though waiting for a response but she did not give one, ”AM I!?”

Virys watched on, completely void of visible emotion but internally mildly satisfied as she flinched at his raised tone. Good. He needed her to feel every ounce of the pain she had left him with. Every unanswered prayer and false hope. All his wishful thinking and fantasizing. The confusion and disappointment, ”You say I am your life, but since your arrival you have done nothing but avoid me. The moment you saw me you fled."

”I never would have left you—never! You did not even try to fight it, did you? No, you didn’t. I know you didn’t. Do you know why? Because I know you. I know you better than you know yourself—I am you. And when you want something you won’t stop until it’s yours. If you had wanted to stay you would have.”

If she had wanted him he would have been hers already.

”But you didn’t. You chose to leave—thinking only of yourself you took the first opportunity to escape this hellhole. Ran off with your fancy new family—”

You, you, you—it was endless. And he was relentless.

”Are they nice to you? Do they tell you they love you every night and tuck you into bed? Do they give you all you ask and more? Are you happy over there?” Visaera tried to take a small step back, seeking out the slightest reprieve from his onslaught, but her retreat only further fueled him and he immediately grabbed at her arm. He took no notice that he was using his now injured hand, completely disregarding his very fresh and still hurting wound because after all he did not feel pain.

The maester had been so thorough and careful in ensuring there were no glass shards embedded in his skin before wrapping it. He had been so gentle in applying the salve that was to protect his wound and promote healing by mending the edges back together. But the strength of Virys’ grip now was turning the once off white bandages a bright red as his movement reopened the wound and bled through. His hand gave off an unnatural warmth, partly due to his temper, but there was also the blood that seeped through the bandage and ever so slowly ran down her arm. It wasn’t much, not yet. The salve and bandage were doing their best to hold up despite his actions, but his blood would be on her hands before he was through with her.

“You left me here to die.”

”Do you have any idea what they did to me while you were gone—what they still do?!” The answer would have been yes, yes she did know because not much had changed since she had left. Their half brothers had tormented him even while she was here, her presence or lack of didn’t make a difference in regards to their family. Their mother hadn’t shown him true affection since they were small and living in Dragonstone. And the King still avoided acknowledging his existence. Nothing had really changed while she was gone, ”No, you don’t—” The only thing that had changed was that he hadn’t had her to lean on. She hadn’t been there to wipe his tears or kiss his bruises. She hadn’t been there to tell him words of love and affirmation and that no one else mattered because they had each other, ”—because you don’t care. You say all these pretty lies and make false promises but in the end all you care about is yourself, and you seem to be doing just fine on your own.”

“Everything is all your fault.”

It wasn’t often that anything Virys said stuck with him after the fact. He always spoke his mind and he wasn’t one to beat around the bush or speak in riddles. But hours later he was still replaying his fight with Visaera in his head—if you could even call it a fight. He didn’t exactly regret it. Not in the sense of wishing he could take it back or had said anything he didn’t mean. But rather it just didn’t end in the result he wanted. Despite all the horrible things he had thrown at her, he had still wished His Heart would have returned to him and let him feel again after three years of this numb pain.

After returning to the privacy of his own chambers, Virys had continued his destructive path, knocking things to the floor, screaming into the emptiness and pulling at his own hair all in desperate attempts to rid himself of these feelings. By the time he had calmed down enough to stop his room was totaled and his silver hair was stained with blood red highlights from how freely his wound bled and how frequently he had run his hands through his hair in frustration. He did not seek out a maester or make any effort to change his bandage himself. The bleeding eventually stopped on its own as his pulse finally quieted down, though it had dried all over his hands and everything he had touched both on himself and his belongings.

Just like earlier in the week, the extreme emotion took a heavy toll on Virys and it didn’t take long for him to succumb to his exhaustion. It was sort of a form of self defence he had developed in Visaea’s absence. Normally he would have sought her out to feel better, but without her his body had adopted a new method to protect itself: it would simply shut off. A form of dormancy if you will. When it all became too much to bear he would just give in to the heaviness and sleep, making time pass and saving himself from having to listen to any of the voices in his head. It was just so much easier to ignore his problems than have to figure out how to handle them. And for the most part it always worked. He would be upset, he would sleep, he would wake up and the problem had moved on without him.

But not this time. This time when he woke up it was to a feeling he had not experienced in years. It was a deep sickening feeling of pure dread in the bottom of his stomach that told him something was very wrong. For a few moments he couldn’t quite tell it apart from the pain that wracked his head from not eating or drinking anything other than wine practically all day. But sure enough, as he processed being awake his thoughts raced back to the one he cared about most in the entire world: Visaera.

His Heart.

It was neither regret nor remorse that dragged him from his bed. It was fear. Pitch black, blinding fear. But Virys couldn’t quite put a pin on just what it was he was afraid of. There was no one thought in his mind that told him what he was afraid of, just the feeling of it eating at him and pushing him to leave his room. His feet moved on their own, quickly guiding him down the dark halls he knew like the back of his bloody hands. He got by just fine without his vision, after all he went through life completely blindsided, so it was only a couple minutes before he once again found himself standing outside his twin sister’s room.

How many times this week had he ended up at her door in the dead of night? He had lost count, but the urge to enter had never been as strong as it was now. Except, there was that fear holding him back, making him hesitate to open that door because he did not know what he would find on the other side.

However unlike the other times, tonight he could hear a shuffling from within that finally encouraged him to follow through with opening the door; not announcing himself beforehand. But Virys could not bring himself to fully commit to entering her room, so he stood stone still in the doorway, holding the handle with his good hand, the injured one too inflamed, sore and painful to use.

His eyes surveyed over the room briefly, taking note that hers was dismantled similarly to how his was. But where his had been destructive, Visaera’s looked to be organized chaos. There were dresses laid out across her bed, and her open trunk revealing that a large majority of her personal effects had been stowed away, and the remainder of them looked to be in groupings as though she were packing them…

“Are you….leaving?”
He sounded so defeated compared to their earlier interaction. Defeated to the point of not having any fight left in him. She was leaving him…again…and there was nothing he could do to keep her here. He didn’t have anything left in him to be angry with her, hell he didn’t even have the strength to speak her name without his voice breaking, ”…n-nuha prumia…”​

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[feelsHASkilig]

"My Life"​

PRINCESS VISAERA TARGARYEN ⊰ THE LITTLE JEWEL

VISAERA (COMMON TONGUE) tab VISAERA (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

A deep cackling vibrated through the back of her mind. It rattled her brain and she thought she might spiral into insanity. In front of her, Virys spat his killing words right into her face with perfect precision. Everything around her was spinning into darkness and it took all she had to focus on his face. Even now, as he blamed her for quite literally everything that has gone wrong in his life, he was the one thing that could keep her in focus. Without him, even while his hate-filled eyes plunged into her chest and yanked out her mangled heart, she knew she would cease to exist. There would just be no point.

Heeeeee is no longer your life. Youuuuu are no longer his heart. You did this. You did this. YOU did this. YOU DID THIS! YOU! DID! THIS! The cackling strengthened into a victorious roar of laughter and she winced at the pain it caused her. Or maybe it was Virys and his hateful words that were responsible. Likely, it was both.

Visaera clung to him, to the sight of him. On the surface she could hardly feel her body. She felt so numb from everything as his harsh accusations cut into the very core of her, killing her with the truths she refused to believe. Her tongue was like lead in her mouth. She couldn’t defend her actions, not that she could in the first place. Her mind was blank except for the added accusations It screamed at her. Although she didn’t want to, she fought to focus on her brother’s words than It. His words, and his grip on her arm, may hurt, but they did not drive her to insanity like The Darkness.

But then her lifeline was gone. What remained was his last lingering words: Everything is all your fault. As she watched helplessly while he stormed off, she truly started to believe him.

Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Y O U R F A U L T!

Her footsteps felt heavy against the hard floors of the Red Keep. She didn’t even know where exactly she was, letting her feet guide her wherever it wanted her to go.

Your fault. Your fault. YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT!

She felt so cold. And yet she hardly shivered as she passed a window in the corridor.

“Your fault…”

As the door closed behind her, Visaera hunched against the sturdy wood. Her bedchamber still hung at the distance of her sight as she focused on the stain of red on her arm. When had that gotten there? Was it— No, it wasn’t her blood. But it should have been.

Visaera walked over to the basin and poured out some of the cold water from the jug beside it. She grabbed the washcloth on the side table, soaked it in the water for a moment then went to work washing the blood off. The water that spilled down her arm onto the floor was pink, but as she stared at her progress she grew restless and panicked. The blood. It wasn’t coming off. Why wasn’t it coming off???

She scrubbed at her arm until it was rubbed red and raw, but still she could not see the blood disappear. In fact, it was almost as if it replenished itself with each violent scrub. The ghost of her heart raced in her battered chest and she screamed.

It was exhaustion that finally stopped her. While her arm throbbed and burned, Visaera sat slumped over on the edge of her bed. She couldn’t see or focus on anything past her immediate eyesight. So she focused on a spot on the floor, wondering if she was imagining the speck of dirt she had been staring at this whole time or if it was really there. She was too tired, too weak and too broken to even fan her skirt out to brush it away. So she just stared at it all the while she replayed Virys’ earlier words over and over again in her head. It was either his words or entertain Its invitations to sit by her open window.

He was right. Of course he was right. All of this. Everything that has happened between them since her return to King’s Landing was all her fault. She was to blame for not only her suffering, but his as well. She was the one that left, even if she had been forced to by their father. She adapted and thrived in Highgarden under the watchful and protective eyes of the Tyrells. All the while he withered and crumbled here in the Keep, abused and beaten by the people that were supposed to be their family but were instead fueled by their jealousy and paranoia. She let It believe that he hated her so much that she needed to stay away from him. It was all her fault. All her fault.

Perhaps coming back had been a bad idea. Perhaps it would have been better to just stay in Highgarden until she needed to travel to King’s Landing for her royal wedding. Or perhaps, if she wanted to have a little adventure, she could have accompanied Deric as he competed in tourney after tourney to prove his knighthood and bring honor to his house.

She missed Highgarden, there was no denying that. She missed how fresh the air smelled and all the open skies. She missed the Tyrells, Lady Tyrell in particular as she now considered her like a second mother. Hells, in a year’s time she would, by law, be her second mother.

And she missed Deric, with his vibrant Tyrell smile that made maidens weak in the knees and practically falling over themselves for the opportunity to have that infamous smile aimed at them. She missed their private walks across the green, open fields while Moonfyre soared right above them. She missed the way his arm felt around hers and how when he spoke of a topic he was most excited and enthusiastic about, he would absentmindedly place his hand on top of hers and fiddle with her fingers. She missed his laugh and his secret knowledge of poetry.

But that was all she missed of him. Because even as she remembered the times they would sneak kisses before joining the public, she felt nothing. His kisses, while they were admittedly lovely and sweet, did not ignite anything within her. Not in the same way just very thought of her twin brother burned her from the inside out starting deep in her stomach.

Virys was right, he knew her better than anyone in all the Seven Kingdoms. He knew she was ambitious and did what she could to get what she wanted. Whether she had to bat her eyelashes or seek a private moment with those most influential to her desires, when she wanted something, she did everything she could to get it…even lie.

But that was where Virys’ hard truths ended. Because the truth was, he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. While, yes, her ambition was what kept her at Highgarden, it wasn’t for the reasons he thought.

He was wrong about one thing. She hadn’t left King’s Landing—left him—voluntarily. And it was obvious that no one, not even Saera, told him about how she practically kicked and screamed through a hoarse throat and hot tears while refusing to obey her father’s orders to leave. Even in her anguish, she knew that this was all part of her demented father’s plans: to throw her out to the Tyrells while Virys was off fighting another one of his pathetic wars. Because if he dared try to do something like that with her brother around, no one would survive Yena’s dragon fire.

He didn’t know how low she’d fallen once she arrived at Highgarden; how she refused to leave her room, to eat anything or talk to anyone. He didn’t know how badly she wanted to take Moonfyre and just…leave. Leave all of it behind. Leave to find him and take him with her as far as their dragons would take them.

While Virys was right about her ambition, he was also wrong: everything she wanted, everything she got, she did it all for him.

It was no secret why her father had chosen the Tyrells among the sea of proposals for Visaera’s hand. As the Warden of the South, House Tyrell was one of the richest families in all the Seven Kingdoms. They overlooked all the fertile lands of The Reach, meaning they were quite frankly responsible for much of King’s Landing food supply. And, rather importantly, they were loyal to the crown, more loyal than the cunning Lannisters. However, by joining their houses, they would have House Tyrell’s loyalty and its resources unconditionally. What better way to ensure the joining of the two great houses than to auction off The Little Jewel of King’s Landing. Visaera was as much a prize to House Tyrell as House Tyrell was to her father. So who was truly playing who? Well, Visaera was playing them all.

While, yes, she truly held such high regard for House Tyrell and did find their charming heir, handsome and agreeable, Visaera also knew just how important it was to tie this noble house in marriage. Because what her father constantly failed to recognize despite her own blatant evidence throughout the years and through the many members of court, was her own influence and what she could do for her own ambitions.

After years of watching helplessly from the sidelines, but also working quietly in the shadows, Visaera only had but one goal in mind when she finally accepted her fate and her engagement to Deric Tyrell: she was going to take all of this away from her father and give it to her brother. The resources and the Tyrell army. All of it. While her father may think he was getting himself a stronger claim to the South, she was working to funnel the best of it to the one that deserved it the most. The one she loved the most. And she was going to use her mind, her influence and even her body to get it.

Even now, while she stared at the damage she inflicted on her arm, that desperate motivation still fueled her to keep fighting for her beloved’s prosperous future. Even now, after suffering his cruel verbal attacks, she still believed that he deserved this more than their family.

Visaera ran her unharmed hand through her tangled hair, sighing deeply while she pondered that she might better serve her purpose back in Highgarden. As much as she wanted to stay in King’s Landing and be closer to Virys, he did not want her here. As ambitious as she was, she knew a lost battle when she saw one. She would fight for him from a safe distance, even if he no longer wanted her. And when she finally reaped what she sowed all these years, she would savor the sacrifices she made for him and present to him his prize most rightfully deserved.

Yes, that would be her plan of action. She would abandon this hopeless dream of hers and focus solely on her real strategy.

She will return to Highgarden and all of its little pawns in the morning.

It was an active effort to ignore the bottom of her trunk as she collected her things from around her bedchamber. All of her pretty dresses and gowns rested carefully on her four-poster bed. Her various other items and trinkets were stacked in categorically organized piles on different tables. Visaera kept herself busy and distracted all the while forcing her eyes not to peek down inside. There, in the depths of her trunk, It rested while watching her every move. It made itself comfortable with its cold, but inviting arms around the shiny hilt of the Valyrian steel dagger.

Visaera shook her head aggressively, refusing to hear any of Its seductive suggestions. She reached for the nearby pile of shawls, tossing the three separate piles on top of the temptation.

She would have no one to help her. She wouldn’t ask her handmaidens to help her pack for fear that one of them would report to her mother. Who would then share it with her father. She would figure out some way to leave King’s Landing as quietly as possible. Perhaps she could bribe a couple guards to help carry her trunk outside to meet with Moonfyre. How she would influence her dragon to carry the trunk during flight was an obstacle she would face when the moment came.

Visaera tightened the knot that held her night robe closed as she stared at two separate piles, determining which one to place in her trunk next. When she couldn’t quite decide, she walked over to her bed to decide which dress to wear for her flight in the morning.

She had just picked a deep purple dress with long heavy sleeves and placed it across the velvet bench at the foot of her bed when she heard a voice behind her. So lost in thought and deliberation, she hadn’t heard the knock or the door open. Or, had there even been a knock?

Regardless, she froze. After what happened earlier, she never thought she would hear his voice ever again. Not even her wildest fantasies dared entertain the hope.

But it was the sound of his broken voice as he called her His Heart that ruined her. She thought she could brave through this next round of harsh words and insults. It was to be expected knowing how much he hated her. But to hear him use the name he said only to her as a sign of his love, to hear those two beautiful words of High Valyrian leave those wonderful lips. Her heart fluttered and soared back to life only to shatter into pieces all over again. Just as he didn’t deem her worthy to think of him as her life, she did not deserve the honor of being his heart.

Slowly, Visaera turned to look at her beloved twin brother. The sight of him tore her apart. His bandage was completely red now. But so was his hair, his skin and his clothes. What had he done to himself since she last saw him? What pain had he inflicted upon himself through his rage over her stupidity?

Her face fell. Before she knew exactly what she was doing, she rushed over to him, pulling him in by the smallest inch of his shirt sleeve as she closed the door. She was afraid that if she touched him right now he would jerk away and leave. This was going to be their last night together before she would decide to never return until she could give him what he deserved.

“Sit here.” Her voice was quiet, her movements hesitant as she led him to the empty chair near the window. She had avoided this space since she decided to leave. But now it was the only spot in her bedchamber not taken up by her personal belongings. She looked at his bloodied bandage then the rest of the damage.

She walked over to the basin again, pouring in fresh water from the jug then soaking a new washcloth. Then she carefully carried the basin over to the floor near his feet. After letting some drops of water fall back into the bowl, she straightened and returned her gaze to Virys. “Hold still,” she whispered as she went to work washing the blood out of his hair.

They stood in heavy silence as she focused on strand after strand to remove any inch of red in his silver locks. Visaera put her whole mind into this task, all in an effort to ignore how It slithered out of the bottom of the trunk to approach her. Virys' presence here fueled It, ready for blood. Her blood. Because It knew that he would be the easiest way to get her to finally give in.

Her body shook against the heat that radiated from him. They were so close to each other now she could practically feel his head resting against her chest. If he so wanted, he could pull the knot that kept her hidden away and expose all of her to him.

And she would let him. Without hesitation. Without saying no.

Her breath caught in her throat as the tears swelled. It was so painful having him here after what he said to her earlier that day. But it was even more painful having him here knowing that he could still call her His Heart while he hated her. Was he doing this on purpose? To torture her one last time before they were separated for good? How could he be so cruel when she loved him so much?

“Forgive me…” Her words were soft; an exhale to his inhale.

She stopped washing his hair, leaving the washcloth hanging off the top of his head. Her hands rested on either side of his neck, but she did not dare lift his face up to look at her. She didn’t want to see his eyes. It would only break her more than he has already done. But still, she wanted to touch him, to feel his skin under her fingertips. One last time.

“It was a mistake for me to come back here after all these years. Had I known—” The words lodged painfully in her throat. Guilt hit her right in the chest. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. You must believe me. Please, you know me so well, you must see.” Tears choked her every breath. It was too late now to tell him that leaving was truly not her choice. It would never fix the damage her absence had left behind.

“I—I do not wish to keep hurting you, Nu—” Visaera let out a small gasp. You don’t get to call me that.

Her hands dropped from the sides of his neck to fall at her sides. She took a step back. “If you want me to leave, you need only say so,” she said, her voice stronger. But that strength was very brief. Strength was weak against her tears.

Suddenly, Visaera fell to her knees in front of him, but she kept her head bowed down in shame. She then reached out to him, placing her hands on his knees with her fingers interlaced as if in prayer. “Virys, please forgive me. If you wish it, I will spend the rest of my life with the broken heart you have given me. As punishment for the pain I inflicted upon you. But please, please. Say you forgive me, for I cannot bear to live a moment longer knowing that you hate me.” Her eyes shut tight as the tears burned down her face.

She would rather die than spend one more minute knowing that the man she loved did not love her in return. So she would take forgiveness and cherish it from this day until her last day. ​

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[JINFINITE]

"My Heart..."​

PRINCE VIRYS TARGARYEN ⊰ THE SLIGHTED DRAGON

VIRYS (COMMON TONGUE) tab VIRYS (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

For the first time since her return, Virys allowed his eyes to shut while in her presence. No longer staring fixated at her, he was actually showing the first signs of relaxation under her gentle touches. The sensation of fingers through his hair was not new to him, but never before had it felt as comforting as it did when coming from his other half. He had missed this, so much.

His hair used to be so long, there was even a point that it had matched hers in length. He recalled all the times she would brush it, braid it, breathe into it. His hair had been such a large part of what linked them. Few could tell them apart when they were younger. But now, besides their bodies obviously being so very different having grown into man and woman respectively—his hair was what truly set them apart.

It didn’t often tangle thankfully, but it was just as unruly as he was and no amount of taming could convince it to lay flat against his head. Fluffy had been used to describe it before. Fluffy like a cloud, or a pile of freshly sheared wool. But currently with all of Visaera’s efforts to clean it, it was damp and heavy, occasionally dripping pink water down his neck or onto his lap.

As good as it felt though, there was a slight tortuous tease to her actions. Every so often her fingers would brush his scalp and he longed to feel her nails running across that sensitive skin. His body continuously leaned closer and closer as though if he got close enough she would finally touch him with the same confidence and intentions that countless other girls had.

But the magic spell broke when her hands stilled and her tiny voice pleaded for forgiveness. Virys’ eyes opened to stare at the area of her night robe in his line of sight. He didn’t say anything at first, trying to process her words when his body could only greedily focus on how he wanted her to continue her touches and more. His jaw was clenched and locking the longer she spoke, though it was not out of anger directed at her and more so just that this conversation was coming up between them at all. He didn’t want to be here discussing all her wrongs. He didn’t come here with the intention of fixing things. He just wanted her. He wanted to have her the way he used to, when she was his other half—his better half. He wanted to return to where they used to be, and he also wanted to move on to being so much more. There was only one reason he ever wanted to see her on her knees before him and it did not involve a thousand apologies or begging for his forgiveness. He just wanted her back in his life as though nothing had changed. But this...this messy inbetween stage was not something he wanted to deal with.

For a moment he said nothing, the only sound was her soft whimpered breaths as her lungs fought through her tears, ”I won’t,” he watched as her entire body froze at his initial denial, ”Not unless you promise to never leave me again.”

A second silence followed as they finally made eye contact, though clearly hesitantly on her part—cautious as to if he truly meant what he was saying or if he had other motives, ”Who am I?”

“Say it.”

It was clear she did not know what he wanted from her. But that was alright, he would teach her. He would explain to her why she would not be able to leave him in a way that he knew only she would understand.

Virys’ one good hand engulfed her two, offering a reassuring squeeze, ”Nu...” It only took the little coaxing hint for Visaera to catch on and as he continued on to speak his own name she joined in unison, their voices meshing in a perfect harmony, ”Nuha Abrar.”

”Stand” While the word was clearly given as a command and not as a suggestion, his voice remained soft and steady. The atmosphere of the room shifting and shrinking from Visaera’s passionate desperation back to that small bubble he had created earlier outside her party. Only where before he exuded such a resistant anger, now he gave off a magnetic possession.

Once on her feet, Virys had to look up to be able to see her face, causing the cloth to fall from his hair to the floor beneath them. Her eyes were still glossy, tears threatening to spill over again at the next indication that he would to spit venom. But for the moment she had stopped crying, too focused on what his words had implied, ”Nuha Prumia…”

His hands lifted, gently and delicately landing on her hips for the briefest of moments as though to steady her while his legs slid apart. It only took the tiniest ounce of pressure from him for her to enter his space, and as she did his hands found their way underneath the fabric of her robe. She was still hidden away from his eyes, but his hands traced slowly over the curve of her waist. Taking note of her lack of clothing and of how soft and perfect she felt under his fingertips, ”There is no life for you to live if it’s not at my side,” at his last word he tugged her even closer. She was not resisting him in the slightest, and so there was nothing holding back his impulsive instincts.

Virys was not directly granting her forgiveness, but after having revoked her right to him, to call him Her Life, returning that permission should be proof enough. And so long as she never left him again there would never be reason for him to hate her. If he was here in King’s Landing, she was to stay with him. Should he ever return to their home of Dragonstone then she was to accompany him. They were to be together forever and all eternity. Nothing and no one would ever separate them again.

Once she was close enough his hands trailed down her sides, not ever leaving her skin as he gently pulled at her thigh until she gave it to him. Finally her hands were on him again, grabbing his shoulders for balance while Virys molded and maneuvered her as he pleased until she sat straddled across his lap. As she settled he tried to pull loose the strings holding her body hostage from him. The problem was that his good hand was holding her flush against him, leaving the blood stained cut one tasked with that job. But having angered the wound in the hours since sustaining it, the skin and muscles were stiff and Virys struggled to force his hand into the necessary position to grip the small strings. He couldn't close his fingers with how sore and swollen his hand was. Luckily for him his sister was quick to catch on and he watched, entranced as she slowly pulled on the long ends until the knot came free. A weak moan escaped him as Virys pushed the fabric aside so as to see all of her.

”Because how am I to live without you—without my heart?” She was at the perfect height now, and in the perfect position as he placed his lips to her breast right above where her own heart lived inside her chest. His eyes not leaving her, taking in her reactions as he continued on.

”I have been dead since the day I returned to find you gone,” While it was true that earlier his hand hadn’t hurt him, now His Heart had been returned to him, and with it all his feelings has been freed. No longer frozen in time, he felt everything, the constant sharp ache of his hand, the deep sadness of years of depression, and the throbbing sensation growing between his legs that had him shifting under her to relieve.

”My life is your life, and it is in your hands,” He could not fully splay his own hand over her, so it rested high up on her thigh. The dried blood was a stark contrast against her pale skin that had never seen the light of day outside the privacy of her most trusted. And now he was included in that grouping. His other hand however was more than capable and ran up her front, touching all that belonged to him and him alone.

”It always has been,” He pressed a second kiss slightly higher up near her clavicle, his hand kneading into her skin as his breath became heavier with desire..

”I need you in order to survive, and so your place is here…" Despite the pain his wounded hand wrapped low around her waist in a possessive grip, as tightly as he could manage, ”...with me,” Meanwhile his other hand had found its way up to rest at her neck, ”…always.”

She was his heart. And he was her life. She was the reason he was alive and he was her reason to live. Without his heart, he would die. And without him she would have nothing to live for. They needed each other—they were each other. They were one in the same and the last three years made it abundantly clear that they were not to be without the other.

”So promise me—swear to me that you will never leave again.”

Virys did not move until she did, swearing herself to him and earning her unspoken forgiveness. Afterwards his movement came so abrupt compared to how gentle he had been with her. He had been enjoying this and being able to feel her, all of her. But he needed more. He needed so much more and he could not sit here any longer with the way her core pressed into his own. He winced at her weight against his hand as he gathered her in his arms, her night robe just barely clinging to her. He stood from the chair, bringing her to his chest as he then turned over to move to her bed.

“Do you remember our last night together?” The dresses had been pushed aside so that he could lay her down across the bed with him along her side. The buttons to his shirt were still done up, and his pants tight against him. But none of that could bother him with how his lips were so teasingly close to hers now. He wanted so badly to kiss her, to remind himself what she tasted like. But instead he just left his warm breath to fall against her skin, ”It was all I could think about while fighting for our father. The fire, the blood, their screams…not even death itself could touch me because you were there with me.”

His injured hand swept her hair off her chest and shoulders, revealing her to him again as he recounted how her memory had kept him alive through war. How he had been looking forward to returning to her, to returning to her bed to further what they had started. But she had been gone when he returned, ”I’ve waited so long for this…”

The entire time his other hand had been absentmindedly trailing over her body. Across her midsection, squeezing at her breast, down her side…almost nothing went untouched. Almost. The one exception was his conscious decision that each time he grew closer to the radiating warmth between her legs he would move off in the opposite direction. He knew exactly what he was doing, but it was just as tortuous to him as it was to her.

He’d never felt like this before. Others had touched him, licked him, kissed him—there was nothing he had not experienced in bed. But never before had he been so turned on, and she hadn’t even done anything! She just lay there, reacting to his touch, but that was apparently all he needed when it came to Visaera.

Finally, he gave in, for both their sakes, and allowed his fingers to travel down and into her all at once, watching with pleasure as she absolutely melted for him, ”Say it…” This time when she called him what he was, Her Life, she only got through the first word before he swallowed her voice in a deep kiss. A kiss that he had been holding onto for three years to finally be able to share with her again.
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[feelsHASkilig]

"My Life"​

PRINCESS VISAERA TARGARYEN ⊰ THE LITTLE JEWEL

VISAERA (COMMON TONGUE) tab VISAERA (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

Visaera’s eyes fluttered closed as she let out a deep exhale. This was his magic. He had this ability to make their world fit perfectly on its axis through his words and his actions. And as his perfectly soft lips pressed so tenderly against her skin right over her heart, she could feel every single fallen piece float back together. While his lips lingered there, breathing warmth back into her, she loosely wrapped her arms around his shoulders to keep him close to her. Even through her comfort, she still clung to the fear that were he to even pull away from her for a second, their world would once more tip over and all Seven Hells would break loose and reign terror and dismay upon her.

She didn’t want this to end. She wanted this to be her life forever, with his hands always touching her and his lips healing all of her wounds. She wanted to always be bare and vulnerable to him. Because she loved him so much. Not only that, but she trusted him with every part of her. She belonged to him.

He was an artist, and she was his canvas, his clay and his parchment. Every word he spoke into her skin was like poetry even if they brought a heaviness to her heart. It was okay, because the pain was temporary. It would vanish just as quickly as it arrived, leaving her wanting more of his words. Meanwhile she allowed herself to be molded by his hands, to craft her in a way that best fit and satisfied him. Not that she could resist anyhow. She was weak to his touch. The heat from his fingertips melted her to her very core and she found it very difficult to ground herself to the present.

More. She wanted so much more than this. Her body tensed from frustration as a low moan left her. If only she could find her voice again and beg for more. She wanted to tell him to touch other parts of her. Her body was here for him to do as he so pleased. To touch wherever he wanted and kiss every part of her. As her eyes shut tight, she leaned into him, resting her forehead against his. If he wasn’t going to give her more than she knew he was capable of, she would breathe him in until then.

Were she any other maiden, she would have blushed and shied away from all this. The embarrassment to be open and vulnerable like this would have killed her, ruined her. But Visaera was not like any other maiden. While she may not have the experience her beloved had, she still knew enough about her own body to know what it was doing and why it was reacting the way it was. So as her hips swayed against his lap, she didn’t even bother to hide the velvety moans that escaped her. She knew she was already so wet for him and she wanted him to feel it through his pants—how much she longed and yearned for him.

But then everything stopped. His touches and his words ceased completely, leaving them in a heavy silence that forced Visaera to open her eyes. Why had he stopped? Had she done something wrong? She quickly searched his eyes for they hadn’t once left hers since he pulled her into him. All the while she felt the aching desire wreck havoc inside her, begging and pleading to continue. Please… she wanted to say to him. Through the reflection in his deep gaze, she could see her desperation for him.

He was waiting for her, but what exactly it was that he was waiting for, she admittedly did not know. Long ago she lost all ability to focus on him, having been so consumed by the arousal he ignited inside her. The only thing she had been able to focus on was his voice and the way it vibrated against her chest. But now she realized that this was a mistake. She should have listened to him. Now he looked at her expecting an answer.

So the best she could do was not to overthink this and trust that if she let her heart—the heart that was now healed and burning so bright in her chest for him—guide her to the right words, all will finally be well between them.

“I swear…”

Visaera let her night robe fall off her shoulders as Virys carried her to the bed. She didn’t need it any longer now that she had no reason to hide herself from him. Her body was his and she trusted that he would never hurt her, physically that is. As he haphazardly pushed aside her dresses and gowns, she could feel her heart racing with anticipation for what was about to come. It has been three years since they last shared a bed. That night they shared their first kiss and it ignited a whole new level of love for Visaera. It was a night that she will never forget. It was the night that kept her going all these years she was away at Highgarden. It was what fueled the goals she had for herself and her beloved.

As soon as Virys laid beside her, she reacted immediately by scooting even closer to him until their arms touched. Unlike earlier, she listened to every word he said. It was either that or force himself on her to do as he pleased. But her self restraint was for naught as his uninjured hand roamed across her body, except for the part of her that she so desperately wanted to feel his touch.

She licked her lips hungrily up at him, hoping that her eyes revealed how much she begged for his hand to move lower. Why was he doing this to her? She was giving him all of her and he wanted to do nothing but tease and torture her?

Try as she might, Visaera could not find her voice once again. That is until he gave her permission to say his name; the name that truly mattered between them. But by that point, the only sounds that were required out of her mouth were not words. All that mattered were her moans as he finally touched her where she wanted. His fingers at the bundle of nerves at her core were like a switch that turned on and ignited everything she felt for him since she knew these were feelings she could have as a woman.

And then Virys kissed her, before she even had a second to moan out his name. He took her words and breathed them in with a kiss so deep she thought she might sink into the bed. Or maybe she was about to float off the bed from the pure bliss fluttering inside her. This. This was all she wanted since she first arrived in King’s Landing. This was every dream she had of him come to life. She didn’t want to wake up from this very moment and prayed to the Gods to make this last forever.

But she also didn’t want to stay in this dream. Not to say that she didn’t want to end their kiss. It was more so that she didn’t want this dream to take her away from him. She has spent all these years escaping to this dreamland where it was her and Virys in all of her fantasies doing the things she yearned to do with and for him. Now, he was right here. Here, in the flesh. Here, kissing her so deeply she could hardly believe this was the same person that kissed her all those years ago. She always dreamed that their next kiss would be more sure and certain than their first one—after all they were only fifteen then and had no one coming between them. Now, he had all this experience under his belt and he knew exactly what he wanted. She leaned into this, prepared to give him all that he wanted and so much more.

She moaned as his tongue pushed past her lips to find hers and she nearly lost herself again. Between the massage of his tongue against hers and his long fingers running firm circles between her legs, she was about to completely lose herself. She could feel her soul about ready to leave her body and leave Virys.

In her desperation to remain with Virys, she reached over to firmly grab his arm and pull him on top of her. She needed his weight crushing her back to the ground before she was gone from this moment. She needed him to help her remember this night for the rest of her life.

But as he turned to press his weight on top of her, she heard and felt on her lips as he winced. She opened her eyes immediately and pulled away from their kiss to look up at him. Just as her eyes found his, she caught him in the middle of masking what lingering pain was showing on his face.

“Are you alright?” she asked, lifting her head off the pillow to look at him more closely.

She dropped her gaze down to his injured hand. Virys angled it so that he wasn’t putting his weight on the injured palm. Staring at the bloodied bandage, her face fell with concern. Whatever he had done in his anger earlier had prevented his hand from healing properly.

She looked back up at her brother, but something on her face must not have satisfied him because he now threw her a warning look. He didn’t want her to do what she did next, but he didn’t have a choice. He was hurt and Visaera felt responsible.

After managing to wiggle out from under him, Visaera heard Virys grumble in frustration behind her. But she didn’t bother to give him some kind of response as she walked back over to the wash basin. She took the washcloth that fell earlier, gave it a quick soak and rinse in the basin then wrung out the extra water until it was damp in her hands. She then turned back to her bed. Virys now sat at the edge, his annoyance that she dared leave him still on his face.

“Please, let me…” she said, her voice no louder than a whisper. It wasn’t like she needed to speak any louder. Their entire world was only big enough for the both of them after all. Ignoring the way he stared intently up at her, she took his bandaged hand by his fingers.

As she gazed down at the mess he made to his hand, Visaera tried to ignore the way his uninjured hand moved across her body. She hadn’t bothered to put her robe back on when she decided to take care of his other hand. Again, there was no point. It was just the two of them and she already let him see all of her. But still, as his hand slid up her side to cup her breast, her eyes fluttered shut for a moment to savor the touch. But then she opened her eyes again, shot him a warning look then focused back on his bandaged hand.

Very slowly, she unwrapped the soiled, bloody bandage from around his hand. It wasn’t damp from the blood, not like earlier when he first angered the open wound, but the bandage felt stiff as she pulled it away. She lectured him that he should have asked the maester to change it with a fresh bandage. “I don’t even have the salve he used…” She frowned, but never took her eyes off the task. Once she reached the first layer that pressed directly into his wound, she held her breath and carefully peeled it off his hand. When he sucked in a breath, she ignored him for fear that she would be influenced to change her mind.

She lost all ability to breathe as she stared down at the wound. It wasn’t bleeding like before, but it was still fresh and red against his skin. His entire palm was covered in dried up blood and it even ran down to his wrist. When she looked back at him, she saw her guilt and sadness in his eyes. If she hadn’t made him so angry, the wound would have begun to heal. He wouldn’t have caused all the damage he inflicted on his palm and the rest of his body. There would be no blood on his clothes, on his skin or in his hair.

For a brief moment, Visaera’s gaze turned to his short silver hair. Her frown deepened. Although she has been back for a week, this was the first time she actually got a chance to really look at his new hairstyle. And, honestly, it broke her heart that he would cut his hair so short. Their hair had been the one thing that kept them identical as they grew up and their bodies changed. Visaera was so proud of how similar their hair was when it was the same length. To her, their identical hair styles were what made them more beautiful than the rest of their family. But now…that similarity was gone. It was as if he no longer wanted to be her mirror image—like he wanted to be his own person now.

Her chest tightened at the thought and she fought back the betrayal that buried in her stomach.

She blinked away from his hair to focus again on his injured hand. After shaking loose the washcloth, she carefully wiped the dried blood around the wound. Once she thought his palm was wiped clean enough, she looked around her immediate area until her eyes fell on the abandoned open trunk. She still loosely held onto his hand as she bent over to grab a cream colored handkerchief from the top of the pile.

After one last look at the open wound, Visaera folded the handkerchief then wrapped it tightly around his hand. As she observed her work, she stared down at the golden crossed “VV” at the corner. She embroidered that design a few months ago shortly after she decided to return to King’s Landing before her wedding. Did she ever have any intention of showing this to her brother? Not really, but now she couldn’t get herself to take it back from him. And as he closed his hand around it to test how it felt against his hand, her heart fluttered at the thought that she would never take it back from him once his hand healed.

By the time she finished cleaning up his hand, Visaera had failed to notice how she now stood between his open legs and was pressed against his chest. She felt his free arm tighten around her waist in his effort to pull her even closer. That was her hint to stop fussing over his injury to return her full attention to him once more. She obeyed, turning to face him again while she wrapped her arms loosely around his shoulders.

However, her attention averted away from her brother once more to return to her turmoil over his hair. She just…could not get past the pain she felt at its length. Why had he done this? Was this—

“This was because of me…wasn’t it?” she asked, running a hand hesitantly through his hair. “I was the reason you did this…” He didn’t need to say anything. His eyes alone spoke of all the pain she caused him.

“Nu—” The name lodged deep in her throat as fear once again overpowered her. Even though he had already told her to call him Her Life twice, she still did not feel as if she deserved the honor. And now with the knowledge that his pain she put him through was evident every day on his body, she felt that she did not deserve to even have his name in her thoughts.

When she parted her lips to speak, the only sound that came out was a defeated little whimper. Her gaze immediately dropped away from his face, but not for too long as she felt her chin being lifted back up. She only got a second to see Virys’ face before he leaned into her to continue where they stopped.

In response to his kiss, Visaera’s arms tightened around his neck as they each pulled the other closer. His shirt scratched at her bare skin and it was the only sensation she had to once more keep her present with him. But it also frustrated her all the way to the depths of all Seven Hells. Why was he still dressed?

This was a punishment. Even now as they clung so desperately to each other, Virys was still punishing her for leaving him. If she didn’t have proof before that she still felt undeserving of his name and his love, this was proof enough.

As she felt her brother’s hand pull her thigh up to wrap around his, Visaera’s stomach twisted once again. But it wasn’t because of her desire for him, although that lingered and festered as she felt his arousal through his pants when he pulled her closer. No, the twist in her stomach was a different fire that brought life back into her eyes. Suddenly, the blissful mist that clouded her mind and threatened to pull her away from Virys cleared away and she was left with this growing motivation. It was something she was all too familiar with. It was exactly like the moment she decided that she would do whatever it took to get the Tyrell resources to give to Virys and not their family.

At this very moment, as she parted her lips to once more invite him to taste her, she knew exactly what she wanted.

She wanted to earn his unconditional love back—to deserve to call him Her Life again.

“I want to pleasure you,” she moaned into his mouth. As she once more pulled away from their kiss, she teasingly bit his bottom lip until it grazed and snapped away from between her teeth. A wickedness flashed in her gaze as her hands slid from around his shoulders to the front of his shirt.

“Please…” Her voice took on a deep, sultry tone as she pressed her weight on the knee wrapped around his leg until it rested on the bed. Even without his response, she went to work undoing the buttons of his shirt. If he wasn’t going to join her, she was going to make him. “Let me do this for you…” Once all the buttons were undone, she pulled his shirt above his head then completely off his body.

With his shirt tossed and abandoned on her floor, Visaera pushed and guided Virys back onto the bed until he laid across it with his head resting on the pillow. Each time he tried to touch her, to mold and melt her to do as he desired, she pushed his hand away from her heat with the same wicked glint in her scolding eyes.

“Let me do this for you…” she repeated again as she loosened his pants from around his waist. Then, after one more look at him, she pulled and slid his pants down his legs until they were completely off and tossed off the bed to be ignored for the rest of the night.

Finally, he was completely bare to her. But unlike that first time, she savored the burn that enveloped her looking at all of him. This time, she was the reason, not some unworthy whore with long, smooth legs, full hips, a slender waist and—

Visaera shook the image from her head as quickly as it arrived. She refused to let anyone into their little world. Especially as she finally glanced down at his manhood and saw just how much he wanted her.

A moment of nerves hit her suddenly. She bit down on her bottom lip. Of course she knew she was being ridiculous. She was not some silly ignorant maiden that knew nothing about pleasuring a man. While, yes, she hadn’t actually seen another’s before, she still knew enough to prepare herself for when she would see Virys’ for the first time. But, still, learning the techniques and then seeing what she would actually perform those techniques on suddenly made her nervous. What if she didn’t do it right? What if Marta’s reassuring words were all lies when it finally came to actually performing the act? What if he didn’t like it?

No, she couldn’t let herself have these thoughts. Not when he was finally here with her in all the ways her fantasies paled in comparison. Despite her nerves, she marveled at how beautiful he was. They have been together all their lives. As children they saw so much of each other that this moment should be no different. Except that it was different and she would be a fool if she tried to compare. She knew as well as Virys that they once stood bare in front of each other as children, as twins. Now, they laid bare together as man and woman.

So Visaera leaned into that thought, abandoning her happy memories as children to welcome these new memories. She positioned herself between his legs. As she pulled her legs in then rested her weight against her heels, she reached a hand out to hold the full length of him, feeling its warmth and how it pulsed under her fingertips. This was one of the things she learned from Marta, but hadn’t experienced yet. So as she slowly slid her hand from base to tip, her eyes kept watching his reactions. She wanted to see if she was truly doing everything she learned correctly.

She continued to stroke him as she crawled back up to him, kissing him deeply for a moment before abandoning his lips to kiss down his neck to his shoulders then to his chest. She stopped to run teasing circles around his nipple with her tongue. Then she continued down his torso, down the middle of his stomach and past his naval.

Then, after one last glance at her brother, she took him into her mouth, slowly at first to test the size of him. ​

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[JINFINITE]

"My Heart..."​

PRINCE VIRYS TARGARYEN ⊰ THE SLIGHTED DRAGON

VIRYS (COMMON TONGUE) tab VIRYS (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

It wasn't that he didn’t want her to, but for a brief moment Virys had half a mind to stop his dear sister simply because he was not sure if she could pleasure him. Because after all, how could she succeed when other more experienced women so frequently could not? The last thing he wanted to experience was the disappointment that would follow should she fail—or more likely should his own body fail him. But he was far too captivated by her to find his voice and tell her so. All he could do was watch as her hand wrapped around him, too slowly for his liking but he still wasn’t sure whether what he was witnessing was truly happening or not. His eyes danced up to meet hers, his breath catching in his throat as he could feel his body reacting to her touch in a way that had him desperately craving more when just days ago that same feeling likely would have brought the taste of bile to the back of his throat. Why was it that when it was Visaera her touch felt like heaven, but with anyone else—even his own—it so often left him with that feeling of disgust that crawled under his skin and lingered for hours after…

Because His Heart was a goddess in human form, that’s why.

A soft moan, almost a whine escaped him as watched her perfect lips settle around him and all his muscles and nerves tensed in sudden anticipation. Was this real? His heart was racing with excitement as a scene from one of his many dreams about her played out before his very eyes. And as though needing physical confirmation that she was there, his hand—the good one—reached down to stroke over her hair. He was gentle at first as he pushed the flyaway baby hairs aside, then he allowed his fingers to slip between the silver and his fingers ran along her scalp.

His sounds of pleasure vanished, replaced by profanity cursed under his breath when Visaera finally took him the deepest she had yet. The shift in him must have worried her that she had done something wrong because she immediately tried to pull back while her eyes searched for his face. But with his hand still entwined in her hair he kept a firm grasp on her head, holding her in place. He swore again, his eyes shutting as his head relaxed back into the pillow and his body sunk further into her bed, ”Don’t stop...”

Was this what men had been ranting and raving to him about for years? Was this what they referred to when they said nothing felt as good as a woman’s touch? When they would bet their hard earned gold and silver and stake everything on the line just to spend the night with the best in a brothel. Was this what Virys had spent countless days and nights striving to attain through sleeping with literally anyone he could get his hands on? He had tried everything. Woman, man, older, younger, multiples—every combination of positions and techniques—nothing had ever felt the way it did to have his sister’s tiny hand grasping him as her mouth worked him in ways she should not yet know.

That was where a blip of reality pulled his thoughts back down to earth, and his eyes slowly opened to resume watching her now with intrigued curiosity as to how his saintly other half suddenly had this knowledge. Yes, she was engaged, he was aware of this. But if that Tyrell arse she was promised to was half decent then there was no reason for Visaera to know what she did. To be as brazenly confident as she was. Surely her intended had not forced her outside of wedlock. Then how—ohhh—but despite all these doubts filling his thoughts, Virys could not be bothered to interrupt her. Not when he felt this good, and this close.

The sickening sensation he was so accustomed to still had not hit him. All he felt with Visaera was pure, passionate pleasure that put all those he’d had before her to shame. Virys whispered her name, his fingers running through her hair once more as he groaned slightly whilst using all his concentration to hold out as long as he could. But when he did inevitably let go it was not without first warning her, granting his sister the small gift of choice as to whether she wanted to take him or not.

As they came down from the rush of oxytocin, Virys had pulled Visaera up to nestle against his side under his arm. Her chest flush with his and her head propped up on him so that they were face to face, each getting lost in one another. His injured hand traced the curve of her back, enjoying the combined texture of her skin against his fingertips and the silk of his new wrap over his palm, ”...where did you learn this?”

There was a breathlessness to his voice, giving away his content and pleased state. But his eyes told the other side of the story. Rather than having melted at the very sight of her, his eyes maintained a certain hardness to them, hinting at his jealousy and unspoken accusations. But rather than answering him directly, Virys watched as a tiny smirk formed in the corner of her mouth as though she was proud of herself for being questioned over her ability to tame her dragon prince. She leaned closer, pressing her lips to his neck and letting her teeth drag against his skin as she kissed up below his ear, all the while keeping her hand where it was, still stroking him slowly as though she hadn’t just brought him to completion on her first try, “I learned it for you.”

Visaera’s voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as a tingle ran down his spine and into his length in her hand, already coming back to life. All at once his simmering worries and malcontents seemed to float away allowing him to focus on the fact that she had taken upon herself to learn this…for him. And for the time being he was able to overlook the dark shadow in his thoughts that was encouraging him to question her further about it. To force her to explain how she knew this, who taught her this. And most importantly, who had she practiced on before him?

”Nhh…Visaera…please…” There was a hint of pain to his plea, not the kind that came from physical pain, but rather a tone of total defeat that came from having one's hopes raised and crushed so many times that life itself felt pointless, ”Don’t ever leave me again.”

He was back on that, but almost immediately after the words left his mouth he was taking a sharp inhale as he felt her grip him firmer as though using his pleasure to distract from the pain. Moaning into her kiss when she gave it.

Was this another dream of his? Missing his sister so much that she once again was visiting him in his sleep to give him the pleasure and companionship that no one else could? Would this turn into a nightmare with the next words to leave her mouth? Would she whisper cruel words in his ear and leave him at the edge? Or maybe he was hallucinating? Making this all up in his head because he was so far gone and so lost in this world without her that his mind was tricking him into a false sense of security and happiness. Had he been drinking? Was he drunk? Maybe someone had poisoned him. Surely this could not be real.

Some time later they were still entangled in bed together even after having taken turns with one another. But Virys’ anxieties were still clawing at him, dragging bloody scratches through his heart while on the outside he gave off an uncharacteristic calmness. His heart rate was as smooth as the silk tied around his palm, Visaera having healed him in more ways than one.

But while her handkerchief would help in the long run, and it was more pleasant against his wound than the previous blood soaked bandages, ultimately his hand still hurt and was too stiff to properly use yet. So Virys had flipped his hand around, using the back of his fingers to brush across her cheek as his mind fought between reality and make believe and whether or not he could trust his own heart which was insisting that all was well in their world again, ”You’ve visited my dreams so many times before…how do I know that this is not just another?”

In the end it was probably only due to Visaera having coaxed two rounds out of him in such quick succession that left Virys spent and content with just holding her for the rest of the night rather than continuing down the dark road of his mind or convincing her to give him the virtue meant for her Tyrell back in Highgarden. But that’s not to say that he just held her. No not at all. Virys kept her so close against him that they might as well have been making love. One of his legs was between hers so high up that their sexes were slow dancing between them with every grind or shuffle of movement from either of them. The pain in his injured hand was ever lingering but had diminished to a low throb and so the hand was draped uselessly over her body. But the other one was tucked under her frame and drew nonsense designs against her back during the remaining time they had as sleep slowly took him from her, ”I…”

I love you.

When his eyes finally opened, the sun was peeking in through her windows indicating that for the first time in a long time he had slept soundly through the night. No dreams, no nightmares. Just the undisturbed deep sleep his body needed in order to recover. Both to recover short term from the energy spent with Visaera last night, and long term from the years of suffering he had endured on his own.

Seeing Visaera sleeping peacefully at his side still was the reassurance he needed that last night had been very real and not just a figment of his imagination. But even so he reached out to brush over her cheek again, because he trusted his physical touch more than he did his own eyesight. He couldn’t help himself as he leaned in towards her, taking in the lingering scent of her perfume that still clung to her neck before oh so gently kissing the corner of her mouth.

She stirred, and Virys smiled quietly, pulling her blanket down to expose her to the room and letting his hand skim over her body. As she began to visibly process that she was waking up, he moved in to lock his lips with hers as his hand moved up to cup her cheek and hold her still. Not that she gave even the slightest indication of wanting to move.

He would have been more than happy to stay like this for all eternity. To remain here in her bed, together, naked as the very day they came into this world. In fact…why couldn’t they stay here? Neither of them had any responsibilities to attend to outside of each other. So there was no reason why he should have to untangle himself from her to leave the room. It was a privilege gifted to them by being born into royalty, that they could have their meals brought to them on a silver platter and could simply laze the day away, passing the time with love and filling the empty spaces with quiet conversations meant for their ears only.

But so while Virys was already set on his decision to not leave this room today, there was still another pressing matter that had him pausing their kiss to ask, his lips still so close that they moved against hers, lingering at the ready to resume as soon as she answered him, ”When do they bring your tray?”

It wasn't that he wanted to slip out or hide before someone came and caught them together—let them see! But rather, Virys was absolutely ravenous having barely eaten at her party yesterday, and then having nothing other than her passing his lips since. Because as much as he hated to admit it, the taste of her could only sustain him for so long before his body demanded real food, and he had long surpassed that point.

He had been expecting her to assure him they would be up shortly with food, or for her to ring a bell and summon an attendant to tend to them. He just wanted to know that they would eat soon and then return to kissing her, and touching her, loving her and making up for having spent so long missing her. So when Visaera instead told him how she had been going downstairs to eat with Jaehaerys, Virys’ brain short circuited and he froze, unable to process this piece of information.

There was a strange phenomenon in the world where if one left ice on their skin for too long the extreme cold would end up burning them. It was as though the ice had turned to fire. And that was how the room felt at Virys’ silence over the mention of their older half brother.

His hand against her had stopped. His lips, while still parted, no longer grazed over hers. His chest rose and fell unnaturally slow, as though breathing was no longer one of his body’s primary functions. And his eyes opened to stare intensely at hers, daring her to meet his gaze, ”What?”

His voice was as smooth as the very ice that had frozen the room, but the question was rhetorical. He knew what she had said, and suddenly yesterday’s party encounter was crystal clear. She had been seeing Jaehaerys all week. And the only reason he hadn’t known was because he either took his meals in his room or else was not even in the Red Keep at those hours in the morning.

Whether or not she intended to try to defend or explain herself, Virys did not leave the time or space for her words as he monopolized both while pulling back away from her so suddenly it was as though her touch had burned him, ”No.”

”Why!?”

“You can’t.”

“Why would you—“

It was almost as though Virys was so shocked by this news that he didn’t know whether to scold her or to question her; doubting her loyalty to him and her intentions.

But then suddenly the fire in his temper ran cold, dropping the temperature in the room well below its already freezing point, ”You don’t know…” But the epiphany he mused aloud under his breath, on top of being incorrect, did little to excuse Visaera’s actions and how she had crossed him.

”You don’t know what he did to me—to us…” Because surely if his sister knew how Jaehaerys had come between them, then she wouldn’t willing sit and break bread with him. If she knew what Jaehaerys had done then she would not allow him to enter their world the way she had.

If she knew the pain Jaehaerys had put him through then she would have returned to King’s Landing long ago.

So the only way he could rationalize and accept this horrible error on her part, was to remind himself that she did not know what had happened between him and their brothers while she was away.
​

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[feelsHASkilig]

"My Life"​

PRINCESS VISAERA TARGARYEN ⊰ THE LITTLE JEWEL

VISAERA (COMMON TONGUE) tab VISAERA (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

Not even her wildest fantasies could compare to that glorious night. Her imagination was like a brief summary of the most elaborate novel when it came to experiencing the real thing. Being with Virys, really being with him, was beyond words. It was all emotion. All feelings. It was a heavenly blessing from the Gods and she was most grateful to be worthy of such a gift. And even as her body begged for sleep after multiple rounds, she was still begging for more.

Visaera dreamt of this night when sleep finally took her away from her beloved brother. It was as if her mind wanted to make up for the fact that her body’s need for rest meant she would be consciously taken away from him. So instead, she was given him back in her dreams. She relived that night, this time from a corner of her bedchamber watching longingly as she and Virys rolled around on her large bed. She watched as she took him so confidently in her mouth, working the length of him in and out and then teasing him with the tip of her tongue. She watched as he responded to her technique: disbelief and shock at first then eyes glazing over as he finally let himself enjoy this. In her dream, as an onlooker from her corner of the room, Visaera watched with a raging lust as she broke eye contact with her other half to focus on guiding him to release, her head bobbing up and down faster and not stopping until his body tensed. She watched dream Visaera stop, half of his length still in her mouth while she gave gentle, little strokes near the base.

When her dream self finally pulled away, she left his manhood slick and gleaming from the candlelight. As she towered over her brother, she watched as she swallowed heavily. Even now, watching from her spot, she could remember the way his thick seed slid down her throat. Even now, so deep in her dreams, she could still taste him on her tongue and the back of her throat.

Then the scene shifted in a cloud of white mist. It was now her turn to be on her back and his turn to lay between her legs. She now watched from another angle of the bedchamber, hugging one of the pillars of her four-poster bed. It was the only way she could keep herself upright as she watched herself being pleasured by the love of her life. So many years, so many dreams and so many fantasies have finally led to this very moment. And Gods did Virys look like sin. His glowing pale skin and toned muscles could persuade her to abandon her loyalty to The Faith just so that she could spend the rest of her life worshiping him. If Virys were the devil, his touch and his tongue a final temptation, she would forsake The Seven without hesitation.

Her moans filled the tiny space that was their exclusive world. They were booming and vibrated against the walls. She watched her dream self as she wiggled and writhed under her brother’s sensual influence. Nothing, and she could honestly confess that nothing had prepared her for this. He was dragon fire made flesh and she was burning and melting under him. And she kept burning and melting until her body gave out in a fit of screams. As she walked around the bed to see the aftermath of her climax, she eyed intensely how his fingers dripped with her desire. Then her gaze traveled to his face and the wicked smirk that lifted at the corners of his drenched lips.

As much as she wanted to remain in this dream of passionate retelling, Visaera stirred as soon as she felt a pressure against her lips. The last remnants of her dream faded in the white mist from before until she finally opened her eyes. At first she couldn’t see clearly, but it didn’t take her very long to recognize why. Her vision was blurred. Not by the remaining effects of sleep, but by a welcoming warmth eagerly kissing her awake. She smiled and leaned her head closer to the wonderful alarm to return the kiss.

She scooted even closer to Virys, pressing her body against his while her arm not pressed between her body and the soft mattress wrapped around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him onto her. No words were exchanged between the twins. Instead they let their actions speak for them.

The hunger from last night returned. No, it wasn’t a hunger for food. Visaera knew immediately that the twist in the pit of her stomach was her obsessive desire for Virys. She wanted him again whether it was in the sweet way he kissed her and ran gentle fingers across her bare skin or with him over her while he had his way with her body. Despite feeling her brother’s leg between her thighs, they tightened as soon as she felt the heat drip from her core. Whether or not Virys noticed this, he did not make it known. So Visaera didn’t bother with it as well, once more leaning into his sweet kiss like a young calf reaching to suck on its mother’s teat.

Visaera wanted to stay like this forever with her beloved, or at least for the rest of today. To spend morning, afternoon and evening lying naked on her bed while they shared sweet and passionate kisses between each other or entangled in the heat of carnal desire. Gods, it didn’t occur to her until now how much she desperately wanted to feel him inside her. Not in the same way his fingers and tongue had felt last night, but to feel every inch of what made him a man lay claim to her and mark her as his. For all her life her septas ingrained in her how important it was to hold onto her virtue until she vowed her life to her husband. But they were wrong. They were so wrong. And right now, while she tasted Virys’ kiss on her tongue, she prayed to The Maiden to forgive her for her thoughts. While they were not entirely impure, she hoped that her prayers would offer her the strength to ask for what she so selfishly desired.

But then Virys pulled away from her. Not too far away, of course. His lips tickled hers as he spoke and she couldn’t help giggling against it. He was such a tease. It took every part of her not to ignore his question about breakfast just so that they could return to their love.

Visaera’s eyes flickered up to his gaze then back down to his lips a couple times before she moved her arm from around his shoulders to wrap under his arm and around his waist. A little moan vibrated in her throat feeling his sex press against the lower part of her stomach, very dangerously near her core. What had he asked about again?

Oh. That’s right. A tray for breakfast.

Her arm around him stiffened at the sudden realization of his question. It should have been an easy question to answer, but Visaera knew better than anyone that whatever she said next would be anything but simple. She took a deep breath, braving one last confident look at her twin brother. She took in the calm and satisfied gleam in his eyes and memorized it until it was etched into every corner of her mind. Because the moment she opened her mouth to respond, she knew, she just knew, that she was going to lose any hope that they could remain in their love for the rest of the day.

“They don’t anymore,” she said hesitantly while loosening her embrace, “I started eating downstairs…” She hesitated, “with Jaehaerys.”

Visaera couldn’t help thinking that had they discussed this sooner, this “reveal” might have gone better. She could have told them that a tray would arrive as soon as her handmaidens finished preparing her for the day. Maybe then confessing to him that she shared breakfast with their older half brother would be easier to explain. Now though, it was obvious that this conversation was going to be both difficult and painful.

Breakfast with Jaehaerys moved downstairs to the small dining hall typically reserved for private meals—usually with family—after the unannounced visit by the Grand Maester and her parents. Their invasion of her privacy left her feeling unsafe in her own bedchamber, especially in the morning. After that morning, she woke up anticipating another unwanted visit.

It didn’t take much for Jaehaerys to notice this when he arrived right after they all left, the usual large tray following right behind him. One look between the two siblings and her older brother instructed the servant carrying their breakfast to bring it downstairs to the private dining hall. Since that day, and after a much needed heart to heart that was vowed to remain between the two of them, Visaera and Jaehaerys laid claim to the dining hall for breakfast.

And despite how different last night went for Visaera, she didn’t expect it to change this morning. Plus it was too late to let her older brother know that she was…well…a bit preoccupied.

As she expected, her twin brother did not take the news about her new morning routine well. The sudden shift in his mood was like whiplash. Her head spun trying to catch up with the chill that surrounded her room. The once comforting and loving warmth in her beloved’s eyes froze over leaving an icy stare that pierced right through her. She flinched as if it actually struck her and she dropped her gaze from his.

It broke her heart to watch him react this way. She regretted not helping the brothers mend their relationship sooner. But then again, how could she? Up until last night she thought her other half hated her. What influence would she have? Would Virys have listened to her if she tried to argue Jaehaerys’ case?

No. He wouldn’t. As hopeful as she may be, she knew he wouldn’t have listened to her before last night. But maybe he will listen to her now.

“Virys—” Visaera cleared her throat. His name came out hoarse, a result of her mind abruptly changing its decision over his name. Her heart wanted so badly to call him Her Life; wanted it to feel as natural as it did before. But doubt plagued her mind and it hit the brakes hard on that decision to instead call out his name. The way he looked at her gave her reason to believe that she might have once again lost that privilege. And she didn’t want to gamble on that possibility knowing that this was a sensitive situation. Her confession about her mornings with Jaehaerys had caught him so off guard and she worried that one wrong move—or wrong name—would scare him off.

“Please…” She pushed off her pillow to sit up beside him. “Let me explain.” Then she reached out to him, placing a timid hand over his. For a second she felt his fingers tense under her touch, but he didn’t pull away. That had to be a good sign, right?

Her eyes traveled across his naked body, wondering if she would be able to catch the moment he was ready to leave the bed and abandon her in whatever anger was boiling inside of him. Or, maybe his impending anger was freezing over the very heart she worked so hard to melt last night.

Although she asked for his patience to explain, she remained silent for a few seconds longer. She just wanted to savor his skin under her fingertips, even if she only had his hand to hold. Despite lying naked beside her, he felt so far away. She felt as if she was restricted from touching the rest of him. But what she wanted the most right now was to hold him, bring him back into her arms and comfort him until the pain was gone.

She bit down on her bottom lip as she laced their fingers. Baby steps. She would simply dip her toe in little by little to test the waters. When he didn’t pull away, she gently pulled him back closer to her on the bed. That was when she felt some resistance, it wasn’t a lot, but it caused her to briefly hesitate.

Still, she never once let her gaze leave him. Even as he continued to glare ice daggers into her, her eyes showed nothing but tenderness.

She tried again, pulling on his hand with a little more force until he finally relented. He didn’t completely return to her side, but he at least inched closer until he was at the edge of his pillow. That was fine. If he wasn’t going to fully give in to her, she would meet him halfway.

As she laid back down onto the bed, Visaera scooted closer to her beloved. At the same time, she took the hand she held and pulled it behind her until his arm rested across her waist. Although he did not adjust so that he could hold her, she would let that go for now and continue to hold his hand.

“I know what happened…” she confessed. Her heart raced. She realized telling him the truth was a gamble. But she risked it knowing that if he tried to distance himself from her, she would refuse to let him. She would hold firmly and tightly to his hand even if it meant he had to drag her wherever he went.

She felt him tense around her, but she continued. “Jaehaerys told me about what he and Daeron did. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that alone, Nu—” It happened again. She choked on the doubt that forced his name back down her throat.

The urge to hold him weighed over her, but she feared what he would do if she let go of his hand. But the way he looked at her now, the pain that clouded his vision realizing that he was wrong—that she did know—tugged at her heart and it begged her to please hold him.

“I know that you’re angry with our brother. What he did to you was wrong. He should never have let Daeron treat you that way and just go along with it.” She couldn't fight back any longer. Moving quickly, she released his hand and snaked her arm under his to wrap around his torso. She pulled him further onto his side until their chests were pressed so tightly together she could hardly breathe. With her other hand, she reached above both their heads so that she could comb her fingers delicately through his hair. Now that they were once again so close, she yearned to kiss him.

“But…he knows now that he was in the wrong. He knows the damage he inflicted upon you—upon us. He understands now why you have been so angry with him all these years. And…” She trailed her hand up along his spine then traced circles across his shoulder blades. She needed this pause to find the right words to say. “He wants to make amends. He wants to make it right by you.”

Just as she feared, he did not take her suggestion well and she felt his muscles ready to run. Visaera too tensed. And in her panic, she acted on the first impulse either her mind or her heart could initiate: she kissed him. She kissed him fiercely, a desperate plea to not leave this bed; to not leave her. Now she tangled both hands in his hair and pulled him until his weight was directly on top of her. Their heavy breaths pushed against each other, their heaving chests so out of sync it was like they were battling for dominance. But Visaera didn’t care, she needed him to stay and not let this situation with their brother get in the way of them. She refused to let their world roll off its axis ever again.

“Please, Virys,” she moaned against his lips. “Come with me to breakfast. Talk to him. Let him hear your side of this so that he truly knows what wrongs he’s committed against you—against us.” She kissed him again. “Stay with me. He can’t hurt you anymore. None of our family can hurt you anymore. Not while I remain here, by your side.” Another desperate plea through her kiss. “Stay with me.” ​

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[JINFINITE]

"My Heart..."​

PRINCE VIRYS TARGARYEN ⊰ THE SLIGHTED DRAGON

VIRYS (COMMON TONGUE) tab VIRYS (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

She spoke to him in High Valyrian, talking him down as though he were a dragon. The sweet honey of her voice did little to put out the flames of betrayal that had been raging uncontrollably inside him for the last three years. But her words still stuck to him and held him in place against his impulsive instinct to lash out and leave…mostly.

Ultimately it was her kiss that won him over, and while it did take a few seconds for it to register, it was only those few seconds before Virys parted his own lips to hungrily take her kiss and return her love with his own. His head was clouded by the onset of desire that her body and actions brought out of him, leaving it difficult for him to think through all of this rationally. He was still so angry, and in so much pain. But his other half was here with him just as she used to be all those years before. She had been at his side through everything until she left. She had kept him safe and shown him the purest of love when no one else in their family would. He wanted so badly to give in to her, he wanted to obey her request for him to meet with Jaehaerys, he wanted to make her happy. But the wounds inflicted to his heart ran deep and were far too complex to be healed so simply.

“He burned you…” Virys’ chest heaved with how difficult it was to talk about that day. His fingers gripped her tight, as though afraid she would change her mind and leave him upon hearing his truths. Because even though he knew she would do anything for him, there was still that shadow of doubt that would forever linger in the back of his mind: the byproduct of her abandoning him and leaving him on his own for so long. The intrusive thoughts that continually tried to convince him that she didn’t love him, that she didn’t care about him, that he was alone.

He didn’t pull back from her, he didn’t want to see her expression; in fact if anything he pushed further into her so that their foreheads touched and his weight settled heavy against her. His lips wanted more, moving quietly on their own as though trying to place a phantom kiss against hers before deciding against it as he continued, ”He beat me. He took you from me, degraded you—destroyed you…all I could do was watch he turned you to ash…”

The tension left his body at last but it was not due to a sense of calm, release or relaxation. Rather it was the same emotional defeat that had taken him last night. He was reliving the pain of that day through his anthropomorphization of the scarf she had left behind. It had been all he had left of Visaera. It was Visaera. And he had taken it from him. He had taken her from him. He had rendered Virys incapable of fighting back, referred to her by cruel names and blatantly called her a whore. Ripped her from Virys’ grasp and proceeded to tear her to shreds with his bare hands. In half…in fourths…again, and again…she was nothing more than scraps of frayed fabric by the time he dropped her into the flames, physically holding Virys back and forcing him to watch helplessly as he lost Visaera for a second time.

But Virys’ words did not clarify who “he” was, passing all blame directly to Jaehaerys despite their even older brother Daeron having been more involved. That was because when it came to Daeron, Virys expected that sort of behavior. He and Daeron had never gotten along. Since the moment the twins had arrived in King’s Landing, Daeron had seemingly made it his personal mission to make Virys’ life a living hell. He would tease and jeer. Bully and abuse. Never enough to bring attention to himself, but he was relentless and never let an opportunity go to waste. Everyone seemed to look the other way when it came to Daeron’s incessant bullying, and that was fine….well, it wasn’t, but Virys’ simmering emotions were accustomed to the neglect. And at the time he had Visaera to listen to his pain and heal his heart every time. So when she left there was no one to take her place. The pain just grew, piling on more and more each time until the scarf incident came about. Daeron’s actions and words did not hurt him because he expected them, but Jaehaerys was a curveball he never saw coming. Jaehaerys had always been kind to him and Visaera. His teasings had always been of a playful and harmless nature. So for Jaehaerys to have joined Daeron in this attack, that was what had shattered the half siblings’ bond. Virys blamed the entire event on Jaehaerys, and it was Jaehaerys’ betrayal, no matter how unintentional and misunderstood it was, that had truly hurt Virys and left his heart torn open and bleeding for years.

That emotional blood loss had worn Virys down to where he no longer felt up to fighting to defend himself. His anger was what fueled him each day, but at his core he was just so tired; tired of the pain and tired of being so alone. Even though everyone, within the family at least, was well aware of Virys’ neglect it still felt like he had been carrying all his hurt in secret and that now was the first time anyone had ever seen through the wall he had built up. He suddenly felt so vulnerable, and it sparked a fear inside to well up and expand to fill all the gaps his brief reprieve had created.

“Don't leave me,” It was meant to be a plea, a request, but the intensity of his desperation easily turned it into almost a threat, his grip tightening even more to where it must have been growing painful. But if it hurt, Visaera made no indication of it, her hands running through his hair and down his neck as though she could feel him returning to her under her devoted and loving touch. She knew the importance of every moment between them and she knew better than to leave space for him to doubt her intentions. That she needed to stay as present with him as she could, whether that was through words or physical contact, Visaera knew how to best guide him back to a place of reason. But despite all her efforts Virys had yet to actually respond to her request, nothing he had said so far gave any hint towards agreeing to go with her. The only indication that he wasn’t outright against it was that he hadn’t lost his temper with her or stormed off. He had stayed, and he seemed intent on staying; on keeping her there with him.

He let himself collapse onto her, resting his head directly on her chest. He could hear the steadiness of her heartbeat and it in turn began syncing with his, allowing Virys to finally let out a slow exhale. His fingers loosened where they had been digging into her, and his silk covered palm resumed skimming over her figure until landing at her breasts, his lips grazing over them as he spoke, ”I don’t want to—he can’t have you.”

Visaera’s reassurances that she was his flew over his head as he concentrated his attention to her body. She was cupped in his hand, the feeling completely overriding the lingering ache of his wound. And in fact just as Visaera made another attempt to reason with him, Virys’ tongue circled and then grazed over her nipple before closing his lips over it and pulling a moan from his sister. This was so much better than rejoining the outside world. This was where Virys wanted to stay for all eternity. And this did not leave space for others such as Jaehaerys to come between them.

“I would rather eat here, with you,” as he spoke, his hand slipped down between her legs to rub roughly over his desired location. But it was not a type of rough that brought about pain, more so one that implied his ownership over her body. Besides, he could feel she was already wet for him and so his fingers slid across her with ease.

It seemed as though she was willing to let it go, getting lost in the feelings Virys brought out of her as they resumed where they left off last. Picking up as though nothing had happened and entangling themselves in each other all over again. But after a while, when his stomach growled loud enough for the both of them to hear, and for the third time since they woke up, that was when Visaera tried again. Asking him to please go down to eat with her, even going so far as to assure him that he didn’t need to speak to Jaehaerys if he truly was not ready. She wasn’t expecting him to make amends and fix their relationship all in one morning. But if he would at least just go down with her, that was all she wanted.

Come with me.
Be with me.
Stay with me.
Don’t leave me.

Visaera certainly had a way with words, she always had, and she knew how to navigate Virys better than anyone. Better than anyone ever had before and better than anyone ever would. So when he did eventually agree, it was not because he had been convinced or had a change of heart. It was because he had found himself faced with either being left alone, or accompanying her downstairs. And while he wanted to stay here, his desire to be near her was stronger. As was his possession over her and how badly he wanted her all to himself—he wouldn’t let her go alone. She had managed to shift the narrative away from his conflict with Jaehaerys and to instead refocus on them. On her and him and their bond. The deep love they shared. And Virys was more than willing to do anything for her and anything to keep her. He would do anything, even if it meant sitting in the company of the man he currently hated the most in the entire kingdom.

When they did finally descend and entered the dining hall, Virys froze when his eyes landed on Jaehaerys already seated and waiting for them—waiting for Visaera that is. It was clear by his expression that he hadn’t been expecting the younger twin to join them. Still, he greeted the both of them, commenting on their late arrival but also on the pleasant surprise and how good it was to see them. To see the both of them.

Virys’ mind was immediately screaming no. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to be here. He could feel the heat of his rage building up beyond a simmer at the mere sight of their brother. Visaera maybe had it in her to forgive, but Virys could not let this go so easily and it was evident in the way he made no acknowledgement to either sibling as they tried to speak to him.

Jaehaerys getting to his feet in an effort to be polite in his table manners only further tipped Virys over the edge and his eyes were locked firmly on their brother as his body tensed. Not even Visaera’s hand wrapping around his could bring his mind back to the present, and so she proceeded to escalate her physical response to avoid the eruption they all anticipated. She was quick to move directly in front of him, though her body was too small to block his view so she had to take matters into her own hands. Quite literally as they snaked up around his neck to gently, but firmly pull him and his attention down to her until at last his eyes left Jaehaerys to focus solely on her.

She had created a safe and private bubble for just the two of them, and his heart reached out blindly to cling to every word of High Valyrian she softly spoke until Jaehaerys interrupted the moment as he audibly requested to an attending that another place setting be brought for Virys to join them. At the sound of his voice, Virys’ eyes flickered up from Visaera’s face to stare across the room, watching their brother cautiously.

Jaehaerys had previously been sitting at the head of the table, but he now offered to move over, suggesting that Visaera would be better suited to sit there. A barrier between the brothers. But before Visaera could have a say in the matter, Virys found his voice, speaking just loud enough to keep it within the twins’ bubble. It was childish of him really, speaking as though Jaehaerys was not there with them and not answering their brother directly himself, ”He should stay there. I don’t want to sit across from him." Virys had only agreed to come down on the condition that he was to be with Visaera, and he would not allow his place at her side to be taken from him. Nor would he willingly sit so close to Jaehaerys. The only way this would work would be for Jaehaerys to sit at the head with Visaera to his side and Virys on her other side. It was that or not at all. Despite how strongly he desired to keep Visaera in reach, Virys was ready to turn and leave without a moment's notice. The fuse had been lit the second Visaera had mentioned their brother's name back in her room, now it was just a matter of how long she could keep the bomb from going off.
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[feelsHASkilig]

"My Life"​

PRINCESS VISAERA TARGARYEN ⊰ THE LITTLE JEWEL

VISAERA (COMMON TONGUE) tab VISAERA (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

“Are you alright, Princess?” The voice of her handmaiden was so distant despite how close she stood. In fact, everything around Visaera faded into a dark and distant area of her mind. The only thing that was in focus and took up almost all of her attention was the closed door at the other side of the room. The very same door Virys just walked out of right before her handmaidens came in to prepare her for the day. By now he was probably many floors away, back in his own bedchamber to fulfill her wishes of getting dressed to have breakfast with Jaehaerys. A wish she knew he was fulfilling begrudgingly.

Visaera made no effort to hide her worry. These minutes away from him scared her to no end while her mind reeled over what could possibly happen now that her beloved was no longer in her sight. What if he changed his mind? What if he suddenly gave into his anger over their brother while he was alone? What if that anger was more aimed at her for her part in all this? After all, were it not for her confession, they would still be entangled in each other in her bed. The very bed that was now being cleared of wrinkled dresses and gowns and put back in order like last night hadn’t happened.

But it had happened and Visaera could still feel her brother’s hands and lips all over her skin. Even as her handmaidens washed and perfumed her body to prepare her for a whole new day of…being a princess.

“Princess?” The room was oddly quiet now. The heaviness of the silence was what brought Visaera back from staring intensely at the door to once more focus on what was presently going on around her. One of her handmaidens, the one that spoke, stared up at her with mild concern. The washcloth she held hovered inches from her waist, but she made no effort to continue her work. But once it was made clear that Visaera was once more present, the lowly girl's eyes lowered to a spot right near her hand.

Visaera followed the girl’s gaze through the mirror in front of her, noting what looked like reddened crescent indentations along her waist and hips. As if fingernails punctured and buried deep into her skin recently. She sucked in a breath at the sight, not from fear, but from the overwhelming need that came with the memory. Not that the memory itself was anything spectacular. Even now she could recall the pain from Virys’ grip on her as he struggled with his anger over what he must view as betrayal from her and Jaehaerys. But it was a pain that Visaera withstood because it was better that pain than the emotional ache of watching him leave her for what she did and was asking of him. Feeling his nails dig and pierce into her skin told her that he was working through his anger to stay with her, be with her, instead of leaving her.

“They are nothing. Please continue,” Visaera instructed. But right before she lost herself staring intently at her door again, she once more looked down at her handmaiden and added, “Perhaps it would be best if I wear something that covers my waist today.” Through her mirror, she caught the girl looking at the other handmaiden that was currently putting all of her clothes back where they belong. But she didn’t say anything about their nonverbal exchange. They already caught her brother walking out of her bedchamber this morning. She was certain Virys hadn’t made much progress getting his shirt buttoned by the time he walked out of the door. Let them think what they want about what happened. Visaera was not ashamed of her night with him.

Besides, they hadn’t actually made love last night. And one look at her bedsheets could tell any lowly handmaiden that very fact.

To be honest, Visaera hadn’t a clue how breakfast with her brothers was going to go. She, of course, had hopes that it would go well. Or…at least, she had hopes that her twin brother would not suddenly have the urge to murder their older brother the moment they stood in the same room. So to say that she was on edge as they entered the private dining hall was putting it lightly. It was a wonder and a miracle that Virys was so distracted by his own feelings on the matter to notice that she was holding his hand a little too tightly than was normal for her.

The pressure of this moment weighed so heavily on her and she suddenly doubted if this was the best idea. Perhaps she should have thought of a better way about this. Perhaps she could have slowly settled Virys into the prospect of reconciling with their brother before asking him to share a meal. Perhaps she could have chosen to have breakfast with Virys this morning instead of choosing Jaehaerys. At least then they would still be up in her bedchamber. They would still be entangled in each other sharing and feeding each other various fruits the cooks laid out for them. Maybe if Visaera had chosen to stay in her bedchamber with Virys, they would still be drunk off the love they shared last night. And maybe, instead of standing in a tense triangle with their older brother at the tip, they would be wrapped in each other in the final act of love they are both so desperate for.

But instead, Visaera stood between her two feuding brothers while she desperately lured her twin back from a darkness she knows she can never bring him back from if left undisturbed. She couldn’t even hear the High Valyrian that pooled from her still raw lips. She didn’t care that their older brother was standing right there, one single step away from breaking through their little private bubble. What mattered to her was keeping her beloved here, with her.

“Ñuha Abrar, please…” His name still felt so heavy and undeserving on her lips, but she fought the doubt this one time for him. For them. She buried her hands into the hair at the base of his neck, pulling him close to her until their foreheads touched. She closed her eyes to breathe him in and let his fire envelope her. “Stay with me.”

Much to her relief, he did. But even as they took their seats at the table, each brother on either side of her, Visaera could not relax. Her shoulders felt so stiff as she looked from one brother to the other. Jaehaerys sat as if unaware of the tension at their table, so calm and, well, happy that he had both twins in his company this morning. Meanwhile, it was only whenever she and Virys’ eyes met that his grip on her thigh under the table loosened. She tried her best not to wince. Instead she took his hand in hers while the food was brought in.

“So,” Jaehaerys started lightly as he filled his plate with any food that he could easily reach, “I assume you two have finally made up since your party?”

Another attempt to hide a wince as Virys’ grip tightened. Visaera turned a quick glance at him before moving his hand onto her lap then engulfing it in both of her hands. “Yes, we did talk last night.” Among other things. She avoided her older brother’s gaze for fear that her face would give away too much of what happened last night. Instead she released one hand from Virys’ to fill their plates with food.

“Thank the Gods. I do not think I can take another day of listening to Lady Alissa asking question after question about the tension between you two since you came back.” Jaehaerys popped a piece of cheese in his mouth with a low chuckle. “Just because Saera will not tolerate idle gossip in court, I am suddenly the next best sibling to pull news from about you two.”

“Lady Alissa?” Visaera leaned her head to the side questioningly. “But I thought…. Are you not supposed to be keeping company with our cousin?” Last she heard from Saera, Jaehaerys had been in talks to marry their cousin from House Velaryon. Of course, it was an arrangement that occurred after she left to live in Highgarden so she didn’t really have much of the details at present nor had she tried to pull any form of confirmation from her brother during their previous mornings together.

Jaehaerys sighed as he leaned back on his seat, his goblet pressed to his lips. “Well, yes and no. I technically still am, dear sister. I suppose you can say I am in the company of cousins. You must not forget that we are related to House Baratheon…somehow.” He took a long swig from his goblet. “And I imagine Storm’s End is looking more appealing to Father as of late.”

Of course this would have something to do with their father. It was no secret that among the King’s children, both Visaera and Jaehaerys were the most likely to secure any kind of prosperous marriage. Word around court was that they were the most appealing Targaryen siblings due to their charm, their beauty and overall likability among the high lords and ladies that loitered around the Red Keep.

Visaera alone was proof of that, having successfully snagged House Tyrell. But where Visaera’s match was to secure resources for the kingdom, Jaehaerys was a match their father was hoping would secure more men for their royal army. And while their cousins from House Velaryon secured the safety of the realm with their naval expertise, there was no doubt that the strong-willed men that fought under the banner of House Baratheon would be an excellent addition to the royal army when called to action.

It was Visaera’s turn to tightly grip Virys’ hand from under the table. As her mind worked through this loaded piece of information, weighing the importance of what Jaehaerys said and didn’t say, she suddenly felt the familiar cold chill run up her spine. Behind her, she could hear It slithering dangerously closer and closer. But she refused to succumb to whatever poison It was ready to throw at her. She wasn’t going to let It win now that her beloved was right by her side. She had no reason to give into that darkness now that she once more had Her Life right at her fingertips.

The question was at the tip of her tongue, but fear and cowardice kept Visaera from committing to asking it. She was afraid to hear her brother’s answer. If she didn’t ask the question, then she would be ignorant to the details and thus never have to worry about what it meant for her and Virys.

She refused to believe that through his actions of securing an engagement between Jaehaerys and the Lady Alissa of House Baratheon, their father was potentially preparing for another war. Another war she knew would mean having Her Life once more ripped from her to be used as a lethal weapon against whatever new enemies were coming after them.

A tactic that is alllll yourrrrr faaaaaaaaaault!

“No…” She felt the pair of eyes on her, but refused to look up from a spot on her plate. Not while she clenched Virys’ hand to remind herself that everything was fine now and that nothing and no one was going to pull them apart ever again.

She promised him. She swore to him. She made a vow to never leave him ever again. And that meant making sure he never had to leave her as well.

In an attempt to turn the conversation away from any more talk of this, Visaera kept the remaining topics light. They discussed all that happened at her party after she and Virys left. And they shared their plans for the rest of the day—Visaera felt her twin’s relief when it was evident that they would not be seeing Jaehaerys again after breakfast. Throughout their time together, both Visaera and Jaehaerys made efforts to include Virys in conversation. Most of the time he wasn’t as receptive as they would have liked, sometimes even acting like they weren’t there with him. Other times, Visaera would catch him looking right at her as she spoke, as if their other brother wasn’t in the room with them. But the entire time they sat together at the dining table, she took note of his mood through the way he held her or onto her. She never once let go of his hand, letting him grip onto her as tightly as he needed—even if she had to hide the pain.

Except once, as they discussed briefly about Deric’s progress in his many tourneys, Virys let go of her hand to once more place it on her thigh. Only, his firm grip was so dangerously high she was certain he could flick his little finger and tease her core through her skirts. Visaera had to hide behind her glass as her legs closed tight together. However, this only urged her brother to massage higher up her thigh, persuading her to loosen her tension. After that, she quickly moved on from any topic about her betrothed.

“Well,” said Jaehaerys with a gentle clatter of his fork on his now empty plate, “this was lovely. I do hope we can do this again tomorrow. As much as I adore having personal time with you, sister, it is always so good to see you two together. It just…” Jaehaerys looked between the twins with a thoughtful look. “...makes sense.”

And just like that, breakfast with Jaehaerys was over. For the first time since she left her bedchamber this morning, Visaera let out a deep breath.

Once their older brother left and the servants came back in to clear off the table, Visaera led the way out of the dining hall towards a random corridor. She initially had intentions of bringing them back to her bedchamber for some privacy, but she was too impatient. She couldn’t wait the multiple flights of stairs they needed to take to return to her bedchamber, not when she was certain there was an unused room at this next turn.

The unused room turned out to be a small passageway hidden behind a curtain. It had to be one of the many passageways servants used to move about the Red Keep without being seen. It was barely wide enough to fit two people and lit only by torches. This would have to do for now.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Visaera brought her hands on either side of Virys’ neck and pulled him to her for a kiss. Although they just finished their meal, she was hungry for him. In the dimly lit passageway, images of earlier replayed clearly in her mind and it brought back all the feelings she had to keep buried away from their older brother. She saw his side profile as he took slow and sometimes calculated bites of his food. And the way his sharp jaw clenched when she looked at him while Jaehaerys spoke. And how he traced tiny circles on her hand with his thumb. And his efforts to reclaim her when she dared utter her betrothed’s name. Gods, did he feel the heat through her skirts when he massaged her thigh? Did he know then the power he had over her and how difficult it was for her to keep her composure?

Did he know then that he was her weakness?

She wanted him to touch her again, to have him feel how much she ached for him at this very moment. She wanted to give him whatever he desired as her form of gratitude for this morning.

After what felt like ages, but still not enough time, Visaera pulled away from their kiss for much needed air. But also, she wanted to once again look at him. She wanted to see his face now that he was no longer in the same room as their older brother, no longer forced to act civil for her sake. She wanted to see his face now that it was just them and with no need to pretend anymore.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his lips. “I know that was very difficult for you, but thank you for staying with me.” She then closed the distance between them with another kiss.

Her moans echoed down the small passageway, blending so well with the sounds of her lips on his or his lips on other parts of her skin. Her hands were now tangled in his hair, causing it to stick out in more angles than before. Focusing on the silky strands under her fingertips were the only way to keep her from floating away under his touch. She melted every time his big, strong hands claimed another part of her body. Her waist. Her hips. Her breasts. Her neck. Her buttocks. She cursed the millions of layers of fabric between them. Maybe if she had just been a little more patient, they could be back in the privacy of her bedchamber and not need these Gods forsaken layers.

She wanted to taste more of him. His sweet lips and warm mouth was like a sample of a whole meal she knew she could take for herself. And as she pulled her beloved off her to push him onto the opposite wall, she felt that very meal poke and tease her through his pants. As he leaned down to her to reclaim her kiss, she brought both hands out to his chest to push him back.

“Please, I have wanted to do this for you all morning…” She held his gaze as her hands worked to undo his pants, pulling it down enough to release his sex into her awaiting grip. Once the full weight of him pressed into her palm, she stroked him at the speed and rhythm she knew he liked. She watched as he responded to her touch, his echoed moans replacing hers in this small space. She felt him harden with each stroke, grow slick from his need. “Let me show you my gratitude for staying with me.”

With a wicked smirk on her full lips, Visaera bent down to be face to face with the full length of him. She was no longer intimidated by the sight of it. Instead, all she felt as she watched her hand slide up and down his length was a burning hunger that made her crave him; to take him. To claim him. Her legs grew weak from the heat that was practically spilling down her legs now. She wanted so badly to satiate her hunger for him. And she did, letting the tip part her lips and widen her mouth the more of him she took.

His moans and expletives were music to her ears. Last night, that had been her biggest fear. No matter how often she trained with Marta, she wouldn’t feel confident in her technique until she was certain Virys actually liked it. She had been warned that while a man’s cock was his biggest weakness, it also knew what it wanted. It was Visaera’s fear throughout her lessons with her secret tutor and companion that all of this training would add up to nothing if he didn’t enjoy the way she pleasured him. After all, how many whores have taken him into their mouths with their many years of experience in their trade? How could she compare? But last night, Virys quieted all of her doubts and her fears. His moans were the reassurance she needed to find confidence in her technique. His expletives urged her to keep going and be more bold. His hands tangled through her hair as he pushed himself deeper and deeper into her mouth made her more than just wicked, it made her downright sinful.

It was that very desire that motivated her now. She wanted to hear him lose himself in her pleasure. For her tongue to lick away all of his burdens from base to tip before taking him back into her mouth. She wanted her to be the only thing he thinks about even well after she brought him to that euphoric release.

Visaera would do anything for him, that was obvious. But even as she continued to pleasure him, one hand stroking at the base while the other tightly gripped his exposed round, firm buttock, she couldn’t quiet the little wicked voice in her head from whispering fiery requests and hints of curiosity into her ear. There was no denying that she was selfless when it came to her beloved twin brother, but there was also no quieting the selfishness of her own desires.

“I want to watch you,” she requested, standing up to her full height to look at him. All the while she continued to stroke him, in that quick but steady rhythm that made him hers. Her other hand released the soft and supple skin of his ass to once more caress the side of his neck and pull him to her lips, to continue to taste him and feed that burning desire waging war inside him until he was ready.

Then, when she could feel him tense and buck under her touch, she pulled away to watch closely as she worked him. To watch as he aggressively released his seed and imagine that it was being released inside her. ​

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[JINFINITE]

"My Heart..."​

PRINCE VIRYS TARGARYEN ⊰ THE SLIGHTED DRAGON

VIRYS (COMMON TONGUE) tab VIRYS (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

For the younger twin, most of the details and conversations from breakfast would be forgotten by tomorrow. Virys himself had an excellent memory, especially when it came to things people said. But in order to remember something, one must be paying attention so as to be able to retain it. And it was safe to say that Virys did not pay attention that morning. He had tuned in here and there and caught snippets of conversation between his siblings, some more than others, like how he was quick to pick up on the mention of Visaera’s future Tyrell.

But majority of the time his attention was zeroed in solely on Visaera. The sound of her voice, the look in her eyes, her touch against him, the way her chest moved with her breathing and her words manipulated the muscles in her neck to accentuate all her features. But most of all he was distracted with the memory of their time in her bedroom, and the knowledge he now had of what she looked like beneath all her pretty dresses.

It was so hard to sit still at her side, and as if it wasn’t obvious enough from his ever present anger, his teasings against her made it more than clear that there was somewhere else he’d rather be right now. That there was something else he’d rather be doing—someone he’d rather be—Virys could not for the life of him concentrate on any of the Targaryen familial politics his siblings discussed, not while he was mentally undressing Visaera and bending her over the table.

She served as a strong enough distraction to get him through their meal, but that’s not to say he was calm or content throughout the entirety of it. His temper came and went, flaring up in particular whenever Jaehaerys would try to include him or speak to him directly. And as he watched Jaehaerys finally leave, he found his emotions rising in frustration: what had been the point of this? He had shown up for Visaera. He had stayed for Visaera. He had behaved as best he could for Visaera. He had done everything for Visaera. But what was the point of it all? She had spoken of Jaehaerys wanting to fix their relationship, but Virys did not feel anything had changed over the past hour or so. He had just sat through his brother’s ramblings when he could have been upstairs, alone with Visaera—in Visaera. All that Jaehaerys had done was successfully take Visaera away from him, yet again. And the entire time he was expected to just sit by and let it happen??

Breakfast felt like such a colossal waste of time. As though he had just been taken advantage of. Used. His jaw was still clenched, eyes lingering angrily on the door that Jaehaerys had disappeared through as he continued to pass all blame to their older brother. But as upset as he was, he was not so lost in his anger to be unreachable. Nor was he actually that hurt over their interactions or lack of. If anything Virys’ subconscious was frustrated over how well it had gone. Mad that there was nothing to really be mad about. He had years of deep dark hatred for his brother and nowhere for it to go now.

And then Visaera met his gaze, snapping him back into the present and reminding him of all her beautiful distractions that had gotten him through breakfast. Her voice melted him back into a more relaxed state and he obediently gave her his hand and followed her out of the small dining hall without a clue as to where she was taking him. As long as she was at his side the destination did not matter. He would go anywhere for her.

But even if it did not matter, some places were still better than others, and this secret side room was not her bed—

Her hands pulling him down and her lips capturing his pushed all his opinions off the top of the highest tower and sent them crashing to the cobblestones below. Virys had very quickly discovered that when with Visaera in this capacity he was incapable of coherent thought. When he was with her, she was the only one on his mind. She was the only thing his five senses could focus on and she kept them all too busy to let his mind travel back to any feelings of discontent or ill feelings towards their family. Right now, here in this room she was his family. She was his lover. She was his entire world. She was his everything and he suddenly felt like he couldn’t get enough of her.

Nor could she of him it would seem. He couldn’t look away as Visaera took him in her hand, mesmerized between her appearance and this euphoria she had become so good at pulling out of him. He let his shoulder blades lean back to connect with the wall, needing something to ground him while Visaera occupied every corner of his mind and his lower half.

Others had managed to get him off through physical stimulation, but it wasn’t fun or enjoyable. Usually it ended in a sickening sensation and a sense of self loathing. But that wasn’t the case with Visaera. And when it was over the euphoric high lingered, prolonging the pleasure well after the fact.

“Are you done—” He could not finish his question without taking an audible breath, his chest puffing out while his heart pounded away inside, still pumping blood through his system, “—watching?”
She seemed slightly confused by his question but nodded all the same to indicate that yes, she had gotten what she wanted from him…for now at least.

“Good,” He grabbed her by the wrist then, helping to guide her through a few final strokes before reluctantly pulling her off of him, “Because it's my turn…”

Virys’ eyes glanced down between them to take note of the mess that clung to her hand, illuminated by the torchlight and contrasting even against the fairness of her skin. His other hand had been caressing her cheek, it now slipped lower so his thumb could run across her lips, “Open.”

The command was simple, but it fueled something inside him, watching her lips part so obediently for him. And not a second later he had brought her hand up to her own mouth, dipping her finger past those very lips and watching as they closed around it. Watching as she first tasted him on her finger before moving on to lick at the rest of her hand as she received the wordlessly insinuated instruction to clean herself.

While Visaera was preoccupied with her hand, Virys’ own roughly kneaded at her body through her dress. From her waist up to her chest, he then could feel the stitches of the seams begging him to stop as he forced his hand to slide between the dress and her breasts. There really wasn’t enough room for a hand there, especially not one as large as his. But that didn't deter him any, especially not with the way he pinned his leg between hers and his bare hips pressed against her clothed ones. Damn that bloody dress, to hell with it. Not a single worry about ripping it entered his thoughts, all Virys had on his mind was how in the way it was.

It didn’t take long for Virys to decide that this wasn’t working for him. That is to say, that his limited access to her was building up a frustration that needed to be remedied before he lost his mind. He removed his hands, sending them instead to her waist where he lifted her easily as though she weighed nothing to him. Spinning the both of them around, he pressed her back against the wall to pin her in place so that his hands could resume wandering over any and everything in reach.

Visaera’s legs wrapped around his middle, her arms clinging to his neck while he kissed her. First her neck when she presented it to him. Then when he captured her lips his tongue pressed her for entry. But this only served to satisfy a small portion of their needs. Virys needed more. And between last night, this morning and just a few minutes ago: he knew she did too.

But honestly it was more than this new sexual awakening. It was because they were siblings—no they were more than siblings. They were destined, soulmates, twin flames. Virys knew his other half inside and out, and there was no way she would settle for the minimum for anything. As kind and generous as she was, Visaera had standards higher than she could reach herself. And that was where Virys came into play, completing her half of their relationship, and raising her up….quite literally.

“Hold on—” Was the only warning he gave before lifting her even higher against the wall until her legs rested over his shoulders on either side of his head. He smirked slightly as her now clean hands grasped his blonde head in a slightly panicked attempt to balance.

The new position had the skirts of her dress sliding back until the slick running down her inner thighs was visible and Virys wasted no time in pressing his tongue to her skin and guiding it up towards her core—his efforts to clean her up only simultaneously leaking more of it down to his eager mouth.

All the while he maintained a firm grip on her, keeping her safely in place so she couldn’t fall and her body couldn’t betray them and struggle free from the stimulation. Even so her own grip on him tightened, as though to keep him there with her as long as possible. Her thighs couldn’t decide whether to open up more to him or squeeze against him, but her hands had at least found solace in the silver that covered his head.

Before she had seemed so upset over the current state of his hair. But her hands now ran through it, over and over again. A feat that would have been much more difficult if his hair was still past his shoulders. Her strength did not bother him, in fact if anything he leaned into the subtle pain whenever her fingers would tighten against his scalp.

He loved this. He loved that he could make her feel so good that she lost control of her senses and was reduced to mindlessly grabbing at him. But what he loved even more was the knowledge that she had done the same for him. And even more specifically, that she was the only person to have ever done so successfully. And for that she deserved to be rewarded.

How long had they been hidden away in this passageway now? The question didn’t actually cross his mind, Virys had no concept of time right now. But having stashed themselves out of sight in turn meant that they could not see their surroundings. Was it still morning? Was the sun bright overhead by now? Was anyone looking for them—for Visaera that is? Time on the outside seemed to have stopped for the twins and life only existed in this little bubble world they had created. A world where it was only the two of them. No siblings or parents. No betrothed or whores. Only love, and pleasure, and…pain.

Virys moaned as her fingers had trailed downwards and dug into the skin where his neck and shoulders became one. He then leaned into her touch as her hands grew desperate and resumed intertwining in his silver hair.

Visaera had spent the past three years submitting him to the cruelest of tortures. She had hurt him every second of every day without having ever touched him and it had grown so unbearable that his heart went numb and let his anger seep through the cracks and fill the void. But that was a different type of pain. That was a pain Virys didn’t know if he could survive again.

The pain he felt now was one that connected them and brought reassurance: Visaera was here with him. They were experiencing this together. Everything that one felt the other did too; his grip on her thighs mirroring her own of his hair. This was a sensation he was sure he would never grow tired of, and combined with the sounds that escaped her and the way she moaned his name…he could feel their shared pleasurable pain travel down until it radiated below his waist—longing both for her attention to return to him but also for them to take this to the next level.

As a contented final sigh slipped from Visaera’s lips, Virys’ head tilted upward as his darkened eyes slowly rose to catch and hold her gaze. The only sounds between them for that moment was that of their lungs desperately screaming for air from their relentless and breakless passion. If he could, Virys would have frozen time so as to be able to live in the halo of love surrounding his other half. The soft pink flush to her cheeks, the stray silver that had slipped free from her perfect hairstyle, and most importantly the knowledge that she was his alone and no one else in the world would ever be able to look upon her the way he was able to.

Even while lowering her down to the floor Virys maintained contact with as much of her as his hands could cover at once; which considering their difference in size, there wasn’t much if any of her left untouched. The hem of her dress caught in his fingers and rose up as her feet touched the ground, keeping her legs exposed as she tried to find both her center of gravity as well as the strength to stand on her own after having been held up on the wall for as long as she had been. Oh what he would give to just rip the rest of that dress off her tiny body…

But Virys wasn't the only one still mesmerized by the others’ body. There was an immediate relief when he felt her take him in hand again as before, seemingly realizing what her own pleasure had done to him. He inhaled, taking a half step closer while he still crumpled her dress in his hands against her waist, ”Visaera…” The innocence of their childhood was gone from her eyes, replaced by a knowing glint as her gaze traveled from his manhood to meet his gaze, her lips welcoming his kiss when he bent down to claim them. His grip on her waist tightened with need before one hand released her to reach between them.

The stiffness of his hand gave away a moment of the reality Virys was ignoring, that the residual pain of his wound was still present. But that did not deter Virys from taking her hand in his silk scarf bandaged one, covering her tiny hand completely so they both now wrapped around his length. He took the lead initially, setting a slow pace with how his hand was unable to fully close around hers.

The pain didn’t bother him. It was there, the cut protesting all the abuse it had been forced to endure, but Virys did not hesitate to push through it. This was nothing. If anything it was just another outside force trying to distract and keep him from his other half, and Virys would not stand for that.

But rather than being satisfied with touching alone, Virys watched as Visaera eventually got up on her tiptoes, seemingly making a desperate attempt to better align herself with him while her other hand tried to gather up her skirts. She was unsuccessful in comparison to how easily he’d been able to fold all of the fabric, but that didn’t stop her from trying. The only thing that did was when Virys’ hand on her waist suddenly flew up to her cup her cheek while their joined hands ceased their rhythm, “Not here.”

As much as he wanted to, right here and now, Virys wouldnt fuck her in a dark servants corrdior like some whore. He wouldn’t treat her as some secret to be kept from the world. While he wasn’t dumb and knew better than for them to make public the new shift in their relationship, he still did not wish to subject her to such methods. She deserved to be treated as a goddess, the perfection of her naked body to be crushed between his own and the silk sheets that covered their royal beds. To be allowed all the time in the world to be lost in one another and not rushed from the secrecy of their hiding place.

Besides, did she even understand what she was asking of him? What it would in turn mean for her? Virys himself wasn’t particularly concerned, but he knew his sister well and for her to act so boldly without the consequences weighing on her…

That glimpse of a conscience was quickly shunned back to the depths of his mind, hidden under his dark thoughts. He didn’t care for playing by society's rules or their political expectations. If Visaera wanted this—wanted him in that capacity then there was nothing holding him back from giving it to her—giving himself to her. Just…not here.

The bandaged hand joined his other at her head, gently smoothing out her flyaways while smirking softly at the frustration she exhibited over having been told no, “Later...” The corner of his smirk grew for a second before stealing her pouting lips in a kiss. His hand slipped around her backside to hold her against him.

As much as Virys would have loved to take her right here and now, or even for them to escape back upstairs to a bedroom, there was a small part of him that was enjoying this. The feeling of having something Visaera was so desperate to experience. Maybe it was subconsciously part of his fear of her leaving him. That as long as he had something she wanted, that she would stay by his side and return again and again. Maybe he just liked teasing her, and dragging her along was part of her punishment for leaving. Or maybe there was in fact a small corner of his mind that was still capable of rational thought and knew that it would be safer to wait until after dark.

Whatever the reason, it was still just as hard to pull himself off of Visaera as it was to get her off of him. Neither twin was pleased with the concept of leaving back to reality, but Visaera was the only one between them to voice such reluctance. By which point Virys had already fixed his pants to fit securely on his hips, signaling he was ready to leave. But contrary to his implied plan, he leaned back into her space and lifted her chin to catch her eyes, ”What’s wrong, sweet sister?”

She wasn’t ready for this to end. She wanted to stay hidden away in here with him. She didn’t want to wait until later to be with him again. The smirk returned upon hearing how her desperation for him matched his own, ”I can’t see you in here…” Virys held her gaze, watching the wheels turn in her brilliant mind until she caught on to what he was saying. That they were far from finished, he was just moving them to a different venue to continue their debauchery.

However they didn’t make it far once back in the halls as reality yet again sharply cut between them. He had taken Visaera’s hand, intending to lead her away with all the haste in the world. But when her small fingers felt as though they were slipping free she adjusted so as to grasp his hand more securely and that in turn awoke a pain Virys had so far been able to overlook and ignore while lost in the haze of their love. He hissed at the contact and his hand went limp against hers but he did not pull away, instead turning in towards Visaera. To be fair, he had been freely using his hand all morning giving no indication that it still bothered him. But coupled with the fact that they had only wrapped Visaera’s scarf over it and had not done anything in regards to actually healing the wound since he had reopened it last night, his pain tolerance was finally nearing his threshold.

”Let me see,” The first time they had been in this situation had been outside of her party right after he had sustained the wound. Virys had been so angry and resistant to her good intentions and care. The second time had been last night in her bed but his emotions had been soaring so dangerously high that Visaera had only deemed it safe enough to cleanse off the dried blood and rewrap it with her scarf rather than risk further upsetting him. But by now he was visibly much calmer, the twins were in tune with one another, and whether she was aware of it or not Visaera had instilled her own control over him through her actions and words. Her touch and presence had a hold over him that no one else could compare to. And the words of love and devotion spoken in their ancient language had entered his very soul and revived a part of him he hadn’t felt since she had left three years ago. So as she turned his hand over to expose his palm for the third time he did not fight her in the slightest. In fact if anything his weight leaned in towards her and he relaxed the muscles in his hand to allow his fingers to spread out of the way to allow her to work.

Untying the silk revealed to them that while the wound hadn’t opened or bled through the fabric, it was still red, swollen and warm to the touch. The cut itself was showing signs of scabbing and mending the edges back together, but as a whole it was not a pretty sight. Virys’ obedience did not begin to waver until after Visaera had rewrapped his hand and was requesting for them to see a maester as they would have salves and ointments to assist in the healing process and stave off infection. It wasn’t the prospect of seeing a maester that he was so against, but the fact that it meant for seemingly the thousandth time something would come between them. Last night was one thing, it was still just him and Visaera and so even though she had redirected her attention from him to his hand, the moment never left them. Now she was asking for them to ignore their bodies' desperation for one another to go and tend to his hand. His stupid, bloody hand.

He managed to stand strong against her for a couple of minutes, but Visaera’s patience and determination won over in the end. Her hands slowly tracing over his body, focusing first down his arms and then around his waist. All the while her voice offered soft reassuring suggestions that soon enough won him over with the repeated promise that she was his and that afterwards they could slip away together where nothing else would come between them.

A daring promise to make but it got Visaera the results she wanted as it wasn’t long after that Virys was sitting in the maester’s company with his hand resting palm up on a table to his side, ”It’s good you came when you did. If left to fester—“

Virys stopped listening at that point. His other hand was clutching Visaera’s scarf as he had refused to allow the maester to discard it despite the subtle blood stains, bodily fluids and general dirt that had accumulated during the hours since she had first put it on him. All the while his eyes were on her of course. But not in the same possessive way that he had stalked her all week. Or the way he had watched her during breakfast with Jaehaerys. It wasn’t even the same look of desire from before. No, this was much simpler. This was purely that Virys’ world had expanded from his previous solo existence to one that included Visaera and so the maester and the entire room faded from his sights as his sister effortlessly commanded his full attention.

However being in here with her now was serving as a painful reminder of all the years that she wasn’t. How many times had he been brought to the maesters to be cleaned up after being assaulted by his brothers? Or been scolded for hiding his wounds when he was too embarrassed or ashamed to come to them on his own. He had suffered for so long by himself. For so long he had blamed his sister for all his pain, both physical and emotional. And while he wasn’t entirely past those feelings, he had the space now for others and to be able to recognize that her being here now meant that he could at last see his lifelong dream come true.

”I hate it here,” The maester did not look up from his work. That was the beauty in speaking their mother tongue here in King’s Landing, there were few who could understand them and so Virys could speak as bold and freely as he wanted without worry of his words circling around to stab him in the back later, ”It’s such a pathetic existence. Everyday I wake and crawl to the edges of this living hell just to be kicked back into the fire when I get too close. Ever since you left—“

Visaera’s voice cut in, trying to drown out his pain with a reminder that she was here now and she would never leave him again. But the fire had been reignited in his eyes, his temper simmering back to life, ”What for?!”

“What am I living for? To wait in line for a crown I want nothing to do with?! It will never pass to me and you know it. “ All their brothers and their future children would have to die before anyone would consider placing him on the Iron Throne. And that was fine by him, but in the meantime he was being kept here against his will. Used as a weapon for their family’s benefit with zero personal gain for himself. He had nothing.

It was the sudden pain in his palm that ripped him out of his triggered thoughts and back into the room as the maester scraped away at the discolored scabbing that covered his cut. Virys swore and instinctively tensed, pulling his hand away in a loose fist. It was not that the pain was unbearable, he could take it. But having been so focused on Visaera, he hadn’t been paying attention to the maester’s work and as such had missed the old man’s warning.

”I am here now.”
Virys’ chest heaved with his emotions as Visaera placed herself directly in front of him, physically intervening before his outburst could grow roots of its own and become anything more than the simple reaction that it was. There was some visible hesitance still in her actions, but their time together had made her brave and given her the confidence needed to handle her brother when anyone else would have avoided the unstable bomb that made up Virys Targaryen.

Their height difference made it so that Visaera was near eye level with him from his seated position, so neither twin needed to strain their neck to look either up or down at the other. But still there was a slight tension that remained between the two, Visaera choosing her words carefully and Virys determining whether or not he believed them.

She was here now, yes. That much was true. But she hadn’t been here for three years and it was during that time that he had needed her the most. In fact he had grown so used to her absence that even now there was a part of him that doubted whether or not she was really there. If the hands that traced his skin and the lips that breathed life back into his hollow shell were just his desperate imagination playing games with him or if she really, truly was here with him now and forever.

He watched, still angry but defeated now—hopelessly as Visaera took his hand to return it to the maester so that he could continue his work now that she was there to calm the dragon. But whereas before he had reacted out of pain, now he watched on completely unphased as though he could not feel the seams of his wound being torn apart, ”We don’t belong here. We never have,” His eyes flickered over to the salve set out on the table, and the fresh bandages that would replace Visaera’s scarf once the maester was finished.

Ever since they had left their childhood home of Dragonstone it had just been endless pain that worsened with each year. It was here in King’s Landing where the twins had been separated the most as Visaera transformed from a young girl and into a woman. It was here in King’s Landing where Virys was frequently overshadowed, ignored and beaten where back in Dragonstone he would have been praised for his skills. And it was here in King’s Landing where they were nothing but pawns for the throne. Visaera was expected to be married off, and Virys shackled to the ground. This was no home to them, and this was not a family Virys wanted anything to do with. The only family he needed was standing in front of him right now with her hands in his hair trying to tame the silver she had spent all morning dishelving, ”I want to return home.”

As he turned back to face his other half, the anger was still apparent in his eyes but it had taken on a slightly different shade. Now shimmering with betrayal, his eyes held the look of one who had been through too much for too long. Their father had been the one to force them from their happy little life at Dragonstone. Their mother had been the one to fail to prepare or protect them from life outside the walls they had grown up behind. Their siblings could have made the transition bearable but instead years later they were still tormenting them. And then there was Visaera, the one who had left him.

”Leave with me.”

Visaera was not given proper time to respond when one of her handmaidens appeared in the doorway, curtsying appropriately with her greeting before announcing that their mother was looking for them—looking for Visaera that is.

The entire time Virys’ eyes remained locked on his twin, silently awaiting a response to his interrupted question, request, demand. However she never gave one, instead turning back to explain to him the meaning behind her maiden’s appearance: how she was to walk with Saera and their mother at this time. And now it was her turn to request he go with her.

His stare hardened. Not out of anger or annoyance, but over the whiplash of the company she was asking him to tolerate. He had already attended breakfast with Jaehaerys of all people. Now he was to walk the gardens with their mother? As if Visaera’s welcome home dinner with her hadn’t been difficult enough. Although to be fair, dinner had been before he and Visaera had made up and made out. Now that they were mended back as one would it be easier to face their mother?

Virys chewed at the inside of his lower lip as he mulled over his options. From where he sat he could see three clear choices he could make: He could refuse to go, avoid the unnecessary contact with their mother and do as he’d like for the rest of the day. But that would mean having Visaera taken from him. He could agree to go, prepare himself to see their family so as to remain at Visaera’s side. Or thirdly he could refuse to allow her to go. She was his after all. She was his heart, and she would go where he wanted and do what he wished. If he asked, she would listen. He knew she would.

But then why had she not said anything in response to asking her to return to Dragonstone with him…

Did she not want to? No…of course she wanted to. He knew her inside and out and he knew she too missed their childhood home. It was more likely that Visaera knew it was simply not possible for them to leave so freely at this point in their lives. She knew they could not leave, that she could not fulfill his wish.

He glanced away finally, first back to his hand and the bloodied cloth sitting beside it as the maester had moved on to applying the salve. Then when a shadow crossed the window his gaze flickered up to the outside world.

Visaera’s lack of a response was a response in itself: I can’t go with you but you can come with me. It wasn’t what Virys wanted, but at this point he was so desperate to keep her close that he would give in and put up with whatever came up so long as he could keep her at his side.

”…fine.”

All the while his heart was etching its point of view to memory, adding this moment to the archives: Visaera chose King’s Landing over a life with him away from all the pain and politics surrounding the throne.
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[feelsHASkilig]

"My Life"​

PRINCESS VISAERA TARGARYEN ⊰ THE LITTLE JEWEL

VISAERA (COMMON TONGUE) tab VISAERA (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

How did they get to this point? One moment Visaera was basking in the joy and desire that lingered and flowed through her veins from their passionate engagement in the servants’ corridor. The next, she was staring down at her twin brother, her heart breaking the longer she gazed into his own hurt expression. This was the last thing she expected to happen today after their reunion last night. She fooled herself thinking that all was better now that she was working on regaining their relationship back after he forgave her. Guess she was wrong on so many fronts. Because as he turned away from her with such painful defeat, she knew now that she was so far from forgiven. Even after three years, she knew that look better than anyone else in their lives.

He was putting this conversation away for future use as a weapon against her.

“Ñu—” Visaera sighed, pulling her hand off his shoulder to take the empty chair behind her. It had been offered to her after they walked into the maester’s study, but her earlier concern for Virys made it difficult for her to sit still or so far away from him. Now, well, she still couldn’t bear to be at such a distance from him. But as his words taunted and tortured her, the emotional distance forming between them was becoming too much. It hurt her to have been so close to him—touching him—but also to feel him revoke her privilege to his heart.

She wished he could understand her. Sure, she can acknowledge that he had a tougher time in King’s Landing between the both of them. Their father’s paranoia over Virys’ natural talents and close connection to their Valyrian ancestry—not just through Yena—was the root of all of his abuse over the years. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. Of course, how could she? She was but a child as well. The only thing that she could do for her beloved twin was to be with him. To offer him the love and reassurance he so rightfully deserved.

Only, even that was difficult, thanks to their father. While Virys suffered emotional and near physical abandonment from almost all of their family, Visaera was pushed right into the deep end as the prized puppet for the family and the throne. As a princess, especially the Little Jewel of King’s Landing, her worth was solely on her ability to marry. First through her forced attempt to secure a match with Aegon, their eldest brother and their father’s heir. Then, when she wasn’t chosen as his future queen, she was thrust into the marriage market. Visaera’s life was just as out of her control as her twin brother’s. Hells, she could even argue that Virys has more control of his life than her. At least he never had to worry about being thrust into a marriage he didn’t want.

The fact that he could even consider the possibility of leaving King’s Landing for good to return to Dragonstone is a luxury he has over her. If she could, Visaera would give up everything to go with him. She too missed the ancestral stronghold. It was more home to her than King’s Landing would ever be; despite what Virys and the rest of the kingdom would like to believe. The happy memories in those dark, high halls were the only memories that kept her going growing up in the Red Keep.

Once, she had even entertained the possibility of accepting the marriage proposal from her uncle, the current lord steward of Dragonstone, when he presented himself to her father after the death of his late wife. It would mean the opportunity to return and the influence to persuade her uncle to take Virys with them. Of course, she couldn’t go through with it. No amount of wishful thinking could distract her from the truth: she was too valuable as a Targaryen princess to simply be kept at Dragonstone. Because of her own personal influence and appeal throughout the kingdom, she was a strong political hand her father was ready to bet a lot on to further their family’s power in Westeros.

Visaera would never admit this out loud for obvious reasons, but she wished to have what Virys had: to be known as a powerful dragonrider instead of some pretty little princess that wore beautiful dresses and had the men of King’s Landing falling to their knees for her. What she would give to have that level of fear behind her image as opposed to the abundance of love that made her more pawn than player.

The walls of the study suddenly felt as if they were closing in on her. Subtle bitter smells intensified and she could have sworn that a couple specimens floating around in glass jars turned to stare at her. Visaera’s blood pounded in her ears from fear. She blinked away the images and the paranoia before shutting her eyes tight. Then, deep in the darkness, she heard it. The first heavy hints of slithering inching closer and closer to her. She sensed as It crept up the leg of her chair. Then up her side, teasing past the bruises marking the skin at her sides that replaced the crescent indentations Virys left earlier that morning. She winced as It applied pressure and she fought the urge to bite the inside of her lip to suppress the pain. But the pain lingered, all the while It slid up her spine until it reached its final destination. With its evil, twisted tongue licking at her ear, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

You are such a disappointment. It insulted. Nothing you do will ever convince him to forgive you.

“Princess?” The maester’s voice was distant to Visaera’s ears, as if he was standing at the other end of an even larger room than the crowded study they were in right now. It barely managed to distract her from the ever growing allure of Its influence.

Even as Visaera opened her eyes and turned towards the maester, his next words faded away until it was only his moving lips that she focused on. She was vaguely watching him point to a couple vials resting between him and Virys while Its voice cackled in her ears.

Did you really think that spreading your legs for him would magically heal all? Sorry to say, but that royal cunt is just as useless as your very existence.

Her gaze wandered back to Virys, but what looked back at her was almost an empty shell of himself. Even as they looked into each other’s identical eyes, all she saw looking back at her was the lingering betrayal that was gradually fading away until she would be left with nothing. She wanted so badly to reach out to him again, to force him back to her. She wanted to beg him to understand that she would never do anything to purposefully hurt him.

She wanted to beg for his forgiveness again…as if she ever received it in the first place.

You never deserved his forgiveness. And you never will. The only thing you deserve are empty words and for your body to be used as he sees fit, just like that whore he chose over you.

Once the maester finished wrapping Virys’ hand in a fresh bandage, Visaera forced her mind away from Its deafening insults to listen to all the instructions she would need to properly apply the salve onto her brother’s hand. After repeating the instructions back to the maester to ensure that she remembered them all correctly, Visaera looked over at Virys to let him know that they were ready to leave. Only, he was no longer at the chair he sat on earlier. He was already at the door ready to leave. Visaera barely expressed her thanks to the maester over her shoulder before she ran after him.

With each long stride Virys took, it took Visaera a couple quick steps to keep up. She couldn’t tell if he was even making an effort to let her keep in stride with him. By the time they made it to the flight of stairs going down to the gardens, she was already having difficulty catching her breath.

It was Its belittling words that still rang in her ears that made Visaera cower over asking Virys if he was angry with her. And the longer they quietly walked together, the more she was convinced that he was indeed mad. She hadn’t meant not to say anything when he suggested that they leave King’s Landing to return to Dragonstone. But what was there to say to him? She had a reason to be back here—a reason that was far beyond just reuniting with her beloved. But how could she properly explain all of this to him to make him understand? Virys very rarely cared much about the politics that surrounded their family. Even if she tried to tell him that everything she was doing from the moment she agreed to go through with this engagement to Deric was all for him, he would never understand.

Deep down, she just knew that.

Throughout the years they were growing up in Dragonstone, whatever Virys wanted, he got it. But now, looking back at those wonderful childhood memories, Visaera knew now that it was because he didn’t overcomplicate. Ever since they were children, Virys was the twin that had simple wants and desires. He wanted to play together for hours on end. Or wanted their mother’s attention. He requested food that he was craving. More importantly, he just wanted her. It didn’t matter if Visaera was the one that bossed him around to “play properly” or had to sit through boring lessons with their Septa—even if the old woman insisted his presence was not allowed—he just wanted them to be together. Now, almost ten years later, that was all Virys wanted. For them to be together.

Would it be so bad to give him this simple request? To leave all the drama and politics around their family and the throne behind to return to a simpler life? Dragonstone was, and will always be, their home. It is as much home to them as the Red Keep is to all of their siblings from their father’s first marriage. And in regards to those siblings—save for Jaehaerys—none of them would even miss them if they decided to leave the palace and never return.

And, most importantly, Visaera cannot overlook the bottom line of saying yes to her brother’s request. Returning to Dragonstone would keep Virys away from the hurt and abuse he has suffered all these years at the hands of their family. Between the both of them, Virys owed their family nothing after the way they treated him since he first landed in King’s Landing on the back of his dragon. Whatever duty he had to their father, he gave it only at the off chance that he would finally get the recognition he so rightfully deserved.

There. That was the reason. And as Visaera followed Virys down another flight of stairs she could feel her blood boiling with rage being reminded of this fact. All of her happy childhood memories back in Dragonstone were darkened by the fresher memories of holding her beloved brother in her arms as he anguished over the mistreatment from their family against him. All because he bonded with one of—if not the only—dragon that lived during the time of Old Valyria and because he possessed natural talents and skills that were better than their older brothers. On top of her own personal issues with her family, she also felt the anger Virys harbored for them and was not afraid to let poisoned thoughts influence every current and future action she wanted to take against them.

The fire that burned in her chest reignited as she reminded herself once again why she was here. She wasn’t just in King’s Landing to spend this last year before she married into the Tyrell family with her one true love. She was here to set her plans in motion to ensure that if she was going to be taken away from her dear brother to marry for her family’s benefit, that very family would reap very little to none of the reward.

By the time they arrived at one of the archways that led into the palace gardens, there was a purposeful bounce to Visaera’s steps making it easier for her to once again keep in step with Virys. Not only that, but she noticed the quiet and the way her surroundings just seemed so much brighter than earlier. She was certain it had nothing to do with leaving the maester’s dimly lit study.

“Virys!” As he stopped, she took a leap to close the distance between them then hooked an arm around his and placed her other hand at his wrist. “Does your hand feel better, brother?” Her gaze dropped to his freshly bandaged hand. She brushed across it gently with the tips of her fingers, wondering if he could feel her touch through the rough cloth. It wasn’t likely, but she still entertained the possibility.

“If you would like, I could have the handkerchief washed. I can’t imagine you would want to keep it while it is all soiled.” She blushed thinking about the silk handkerchief now tucked in Virys’ pocket. It didn’t escape her that there was probably more than just blood from his wound staining the fabric and she wondered just how much of her was on it. And, if that was the case, would it factor into his decision to let her have it cleaned for him?

She hoped that her brighter mood fueled by her burning sense of purpose would rub off on him. Even with the Westerosi sun warming their skins, she could still feel the lingering shadow that hovered over him from earlier in the maester’s study. Hopefully she could will those shadows away and they wouldn’t return for the rest of the day. Gods only knew that she would need him in as much a better mood as possible now that they were going to spend the afternoon with another set of family members.

Saera was the least of her worries, of course. It was their mother that made her the most apprehensive.

If it weren’t for that atrocious first night after her return to King’s Landing, Visaera would be better prepared to be the shield between her twin and their mother. Of course, it should be noted that despite having been back for over a week, Visaera’s own relationship with her mother was no better. She still gave the woman the bare minimum of attention needed to keep the woman off her back. But even though she gave off the image to the rest of the court that she did not mind her mother’s company, she was still angry at her for being such a coward; for abandoning her duties as a mother to protect her son because it went against her husband. And she would continue to feel this way for the unforeseeable future.

But for the sake of appearances and to ensure that Virys didn’t do or say anything he would regret, she would push that anger aside to act civil around their mother. If she could get through breakfast this morning without her Virys going after their half-brother, surely she can do the same with their mother. At least this time around she could potentially have backup in the form of their older sister.

“Virys, wait,” she said suddenly, pulling him to a stop. As their gazes met, she led them to a nearby bench. They sat silently for a few extra seconds before she closed the distance between them, placing one hand on his thigh and the other on the side of his neck. She relished his warmth at her fingertips, all the while fighting the urge to just lean into him for a kiss. It felt like ages had passed since their time in the servants’ corridor. His earlier claim on her body was more like phantom touches than vivid memories now.

Visaera licked her bottom lip to offer her a couple more seconds to properly formulate her thoughts. Her thumb absentmindedly brushed his cheek. The truth was that she was nervous about what she wanted to say to him, but she knew that she had to at least try. She couldn’t get the look on his face back in the maester’s study out of her head and it was breaking her heart all over again.

“I’m sorry,” she started slowly, sliding her hand to the back of his neck and digging her fingers into his hair. “For disappointing you. Please believe me when I say that you are always my top priority. The last thing I want to do is make you feel like I do not care for you.” She sighed, leaning her head forward until their foreheads touched. “Everything I do—my life itself—is for you, always.” She now caressed his neck in both her hands.

She then took a deep breath, letting his scent fully consume her. She needed something of his to give her strength. As she let out a slow exhale, she opened her eyes then pulled away enough so that their eyes could once again meet.

“I can offer you this, Ñuha Abrar.” Her words were cautious, almost to the point that they felt heavy against her tongue. She could not shake off the nerves forcing the cowardice back into her. But she swallowed down the lump forming in her throat to continue. “I have a few things I need to do and complete here in King’s Landing. They will not take me more than a week, but they are something I need to see through. Once those are complete, we can visit Dragonstone.” A sudden panic forced her to tighten her hold on her beloved, brushing her nails tenderly through the small hairs at the nape of his neck. “I know… I know visiting is not what you asked for. Again, I am so sorry that I cannot give that to you. But there are some things that are keeping me chained to King’s Landing and those chains will not let me escape, so I cannot leave with you for good.”

She wanted so badly to kiss him, to make him feel how much she loved him even though she was constantly disappointing him. She wanted to believe that her love alone could mend the pain she inflicted on him. “But I think we can leave long enough to visit our home—for an extended period. A couple weeks? A month? Maybe two?” As she once more gazed into his deep eyes, so similar to her own, she searched for any glimmer of hope that he was still willing to stay with her.

“Please think about it,” she pleaded, brushing a gentle hand through his hair once then dropping both hands to take both of his. “If you agree to this, I will immediately send a raven to our uncle to ask if we can go. Once he says yes, we can take our dragons and go home.”

There, she said her piece; putting everything on the table in the hopes that this compromise would remedy the hurt she inflicted on him. Then, because she just could not hold back her impulses any longer, she finally leaned in to kiss his soft lips. It was not intense or heated like all of their previous kisses since last night. It didn’t leave her lusting for him or desiring to let her lips explore the rest of his body. No, her kiss was tender, intimate and full of nothing but the purest love she could possibly give him.

As they walked around the corner past a cluster of trees, Visaera was not surprised to find the tent she, Saera and her mother had been using was casually surrounded by other ladies of the court. Although, casually was to be used by its lightest definition. To any other person, it would appear that the young ladies of the court were sprinkled around the tent in conversations with one another. The truth was, and it only took a couple days for Visaera to notice this, that every single young woman present around the royal tent was strategically standing as close to the Queen and princesses as possible to eavesdrop on whatever conversation they may have or be having. Every so often, Visaera would catch one lady lose her “casual” stature to stare intently at something her older sister would say. It is only when she fully turned her head did the cover return.

It wasn’t just the opportunity to listen in on royal gossip that had these young women swarming around the tent like bees to their queen. Every single one of them hoped for the opportunity to be invited into said tent to be included in the royal company. Even from their distance, Visaera could see how their overly ambitious parents were trying to sneak their way into more royal favor. And what better way than to be friendly with the Queen and her daughters.

“Sister! Took you long enough–Oh! And who do we have here?!” Every single young lady standing around the tent looked up from whatever conversation they were having to investigate Saera’s outburst. It was one thing to hear that the younger sister had finally arrived. It was another to find out that she wasn’t alone this time.

Tension thickened the air around her as she and Virys approached. It wasn’t exactly bad, just unnerving. As Visaera stepped into the tent and let Virys pull her chair out, she glanced around her. There was a mixture of reactions from the ladies. Most were curious. These were the daughters of noble families that were eager to find any way to climb higher in court. Virys’ sudden presence must have reminded them that there were more princes to choose from, even with his reputation around King’s Landing.

Speaking of, Visaera couldn’t ignore the small handful of young ladies that gazed hungrily at her prince. Perhaps they believed they had a chance to bed him—possibly as some way to ensnare him into marriage. Ha! As if Virys would let that happen. If the rumors she heard were true, not even deflowering a lady in court could force him to marry someone far below him. But still, that didn’t stop one particular lady from letting her eyes wander across her brother’s body as if she too was wondering about the womanizing rumors about him.

And then there were the sprinkle of young ladies that were neither curious nor desiring Virys. Instead, she saw a couple of them cower behind their braver companions. She could probably guess where this fear for her brother came from. If the rumors about his promiscuity and womanizing were almost common knowledge among the members of court, his reputation in battle was just as well-known. One does not ride the most notorious dragon in all of Westeros and come out of it without such a deadly reputation. Not to mention his own attitude around the Keep could be enough to deter some from approaching.

There was no stopping what impressionable noble young ladies hear about one of the Targaryen princes; especially when such information is heard straight from their fathers and mothers.

“Huh,” Saera suddenly expressed, pulling Visaera away from her observations. “I wonder if maybe we should have extended an invitation to Virys long ago.” Her sister too looked up from her delicate cup to look around the outside of the tent. “Nearly half of these leeches are now too afraid to even look in on us. And almost all of them have stopped trying to catch our eye with those pathetically pleading looks.”

“Saera,” their mother chided in a low voice. “You are speaking too freely about our guests.”

Saera scoffed as she grabbed another cake from the tray. “Guests? Please, Mother, when has that stopped any of us from ‘speaking freely’ about anyone in court?” She paused to cut a piece from her slice of cake and eat it. “But that is beside the point. Just look. The moment our dear little brother stepped into this tent, only a small handful of these women dared to keep hoping for an audience from either of us. And they are certainly not going to get that luxury from myself or Visaera.”

At the sound of her name, Visaera looked toward her sister with a semi-blank expression. She hadn’t realized until that moment that she was preoccupied watching as Virys took the seat from one of the servants and brought it over to Visaera’s other side; placing himself between his sisters. She didn’t keep her attention on Saera for very long. Upon realizing that she wasn’t much interested in whatever topic of conversation she and their mother were having, she returned her attention back to her brother who at that very moment was being served by one of the serving staff: a boy that had to be just a few years younger than them. Just as the server was about to fill his plate with food, she extended a hand out to nonverbally excuse him from his duties. She waited until the boy bowed respectfully then returned to his place at the edge of the tent before taking it upon herself to fill her brother’s plate.

Throughout their light meal, Visaera did attempt to pay attention to whatever conversation started up at the table. But just like breakfast with Jaehaerys that morning, Virys made the effort difficult. It didn’t help that they were sitting at a much smaller table with Virys insisting on sitting between her and Saera thus leaving very little space to move freely. Every so often their arms would brush while either twin reached out to one of the food trays. But under the table, Virys in particular had no issue ensuring they constantly kept physical contact. Whether it was feeling their legs touch or feeling his hand sliding up and down her thigh, Visaera found it more and more difficult to keep up the image that she was perfectly present with the rest of her family. Especially when, once again, Deric was brought up as a topic of discussion—this time by their mother. Heat pooled between her thighs as she felt her brother’s fingers slide her skirt up ever so slowly. He relented once she purposefully shifted the topic to something else completely unrelated to her impending nuptials.

It was much easier for Visaera to be involved once they were out of the tent to take their usual stroll through the garden, this time accompanied by Virys. She remained at her brother’s side, her arm linked with his. They followed behind Saera and her mother, but kept close enough so that they could still hear whatever they said. However, it was Visaera that continued to be involved than Virys. Sure, he was receptive whenever Saera asked a question or aimed a comment toward him, but it was Visaera that spoke the most.

Saera suddenly stopped and turned back, then fell in step with them to hook her arm around Virys’ free one. Visaera winced. There was the smallest urge to pull Virys closer to her, but she tried to push it out of her mind. Saera was their sister after all and was the last person she needed to feel territorial against. But, still, when had they gotten that close? Before she left for Highgarden, those two didn’t touch as casually as they were right now.

“You know what, little brother?” their older sister mused, staring off into some random direction. “You really must accompany us on these strolls from now on. It has been wonderful not having to hear the utter nonsense coming out of—” Suddenly she looked behind them. Of course, no one was following. “You know what, I honestly cannot be bothered to remember most of their names right now. Please say you will join us from now on!” She giggled, patting Virys’ arm before returning to their mother’s side. Visaera immediately tightened her grip on her brother’s arm.

When they returned to their tent for a final round of refreshments, Visaera was immediately approached by one of the waiting staff, a small rolled up scroll outstretched to her in his hand. She took it with a polite smile, but didn’t unravel the parchment until after she took a seat. Before she even read the words, a bright smile spread across her lips just staring at the familiar handwriting.

“I can only assume that is good news you are reading, my dear?” she heard her mother say from the other side of the table. When she looked up from the scroll, the woman was looking intently and curiously at her. For a split second, she was bewildered at how similar the expression was to her own. Then she sighed. Of course it was similar. Once upon a time, Visaera dreamed of being exactly like her mother when she grew up, to the point that she worked hard to mimic as many of her mother’s habits and mannerisms.

After one last read through the message, she rolled up the tiny scroll and placed it carefully on the table in front of her. “It’s from Lady Tyrell,” she explained. “It’s not exactly the message that I am excited about, it’s the implication.” Her mother’s curiosity shifted to intrigue. “I asked Lady Tyrell to help me with a shipment before I left. I was told it would not get here for another week or so, but apparently it has just arrived.” She was aware that her vague explanation was only adding to the intrigue and she couldn’t help but smile. “Before I left Highgarden, Lady Tyrell and I collected donations for the common folk here in King’s Landing. A little something I can do for the people after being away for so long. Lady Tyrell assisted in supplying grain and vegetables she was more than happy to donate to the Sept to help feed the poor. And I collected toys previously owned by some of the lords and ladies who no longer needed them. I intend to bring them to the orphanage.”

She sighed happily into her tea. “I will have to look in on the shipment later today. And I should probably send messengers to both the orphanage and the Sept to be prepared for my visit.” As she placed her cup back on the table, she turned to Virys. “Will you be accompanying me, brother? Or does the prospect of taking inventory of different types of vegetables bore you?” she teased with a playful smirk. ​

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[JINFINITE]

"My Heart..."​

PRINCE VIRYS TARGARYEN ⊰ THE SLIGHTED DRAGON

VIRYS (COMMON TONGUE) tab VIRYS (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

Saera had always treated him with kindness, but it had been most apparent during Visaera’s absence as she tried so hard to fill even a fraction of the void left by his twin. But she was the only one who had been able to get through to him as his rage had blinded him against all of Jaehaerys’ efforts. So while his and Saera’s interactions were new to Visaera, Virys was mostly very comfortable with how friendly she was with him.

Mostly.

What ended up being difficult for Virys was balancing his attention between both sisters. And while not long ago, he leaned hard on Saera for mental and emotional support, now that Visaera was at his side he found himself leaning away from Saera. Almost as though he was afraid of her coming between him and his other half. And no amount of rationale would be able to convince him otherwise.

However while he was obvious in how adamantly he was against Jaehaerys, Virys let Saera tease him and did not make any visible efforts to push her away. The only efforts made were kept secret and known strictly by Visaera via the tightening of his grip on her or the soft murmurs of Valyrian in her ear. Much like a child too shy to speak out in front of others—much like a tamer version of their breakfast with Jaehaerys. Virys had refused to interact with their older brother, but with their mother and sister he at least was able to respond and stay present with them, all the while clinging in some way, shape or form to his other half—His Heart.

But an initial silence fell over him at Visaera’s invitation to accompany her. It was not that he did not want to, rather it was their present circumstance and company that held his tongue. It was not that he cared what their mother or sister thought, but despite spending this time together their presence still weighed heavily on him and made it hard for Virys to speak freely. At Visaera’s welcome dinner he had been so angry that nothing would stand in his way and Virys could boldly say anything he wanted. But while he still carried his anger in his hardened heart, Visaera had already softened so much of it that his discomfort with their family was visible and no longer shielded behind blinded rage.

Hidden under the table, his hand still sat high on her thigh and his grip gradually tightened the longer he felt the others’ eyes watching him expectantly. Virys did not dare turn to look at either of them, his focus remained solely trained on Visaera while his thoughts raced with a conflicting mixture of anxiety and assurance.

Did he wish to accompany her? Not exactly, as he did not share her interest in helping better the lives of others. But the thought of her leaving him for any reason was near unbearable at this point. He could not fathom being left alone while she went to shine on those undeserving of her brightness—not after they had been glued at the hip since last night.

He did not share the same humor as his twin and her teasings fell short against his hard stare. It was not that he was angry with her, or hurt. But the fact that she would joke about them left him unable to join in on the fun.

Obviously he was going with her. That was neither a question nor up for negotiation, but still Virys could not find his voice in the presence of their family. Particularly their mother whose gaze he could feel watching and waiting with bated breath. Was she glad that the twins had been reunited at last? Or was she fearful of him still? Would she try to intervene if he chose against her wishes? Or was she so detached that she honestly did not care one way or another about what he did in his spare time?

When they were small children back at Dragonstone, their mother would be quick to give in and let them do as they wanted. But then they came here and it did not take long for her to adopt the same views and opinions of others and would not only allow but actually enforce the twin’s separation. So what would it be? Would she make up some excuse to try and hold him back? Would she encourage him to go? Or would she remain silent, which was precisely what she did best. Never once standing up for him unless it somehow benefitted her own agenda.

Their mother’s silence answered that as Virys’ eyes bravely flickered across the table to her, his inner child wanting to seek permission, praise and encouragement despite knowing he would receive none from her of all people. And so his hyper focus was quick to recenter on Visaera, but while his appearance sat tall and strong in his decision his voice was still small and almost mumbled in his response as he agreed to go with his other half.

He would go anywhere for her.

She was the reason he stayed even when he was itching to leave this social. And she was the reason that when it was time to go he wasn’t bolting to escape. Instead he was cemented to her side, their hands locked together and his stride finally slowed to match her shorter legs. Virys had finally settled down and relaxed, but it didn’t last long. Nothing ever did when it came to Virys; whether intentional or not, he destroyed everything.

In this case it was the cry of a dragon overhead that broke his serenity. But even without looking he already knew which dragon it was and even more importantly who the dragon belonged to; one of their elder brothers, and the man Virys hated more than anyone in the world: Daeron Targaryen.

While Virys’ hatred of their half brother had grown more and more with each year, he had simultaneously grown numb to his presence. In that back when they were all younger he would have been quick to flare up, prepared to fight back and defend himself whether physically or verbally. But over the years he had reached a point where he mostly just accepted his fate. If Daeron wanted to torment him then so be it. But having Visaera at his side now brought about a surge of protectiveness and a tension spread through his back and shoulders and down his arms much like a small animal puffing up to appear bigger than they were. The only difference was that Virys did not need to look bigger, he was already the tallest in the family. But it did the job all the same and added to his intimidation factor as he stopped in his tracks to stare challengingly up at the dragon crossing the skies high above them.

His hand trembled in Visaera’s hold. However it wasn’t clear whether it was out of fear or rage. Maybe both. Moving closer to her, if that was even possible he adopted an equally conflicting stance as he half hid behind her yet also pulled her close as though wanting to keep her safe deep within his invisible bubble.

There was no way that Daeron could get to them. It was physically impossible to land a dragon here without causing mass architectural destruction, but Virys’ eyes still remained fixated on the massive shadow in the sky even as the sound faded further away from them. It wasn’t until Visaera’s second or third attempt that her High Valyrian infiltrated his thoughts and freed him from his frozen state.

Virys had not crossed paths with Daeron since before Visaera’s arrival, and having been so singularly focused on Visaera the entire time he had seemingly forgotten how to handle his feelings regarding their half brother. He was visibly irritable and on edge after their very distant encounter, and while Visaera was able to keep him grounded and physically with her she failed to truly get him to let go until much later when the walls of their carriage were able to block out all other stimulus.

It was just the two of them again, plus their driver of course but he was outside: Out of sight, out of mind. Finally no one else plagued Virys’ thoughts, whether intentionally or not, Visaera had resumed dominating every cell of his very being and she captivated him so completely that she easily would have taken his breath away had she not been his very reason to breathe.

For the beginning of their ride Virys did not speak a single word. He was far too distracted to talk. His eyes were on Visaera, as usual. But where it usually came from a place of possession, now they were filled to the brim with a combination of lustful gratitude. Initially he watched the way her lips moved as she spoke, and the way her own eyes lit up in excitement. But then he moved lower, watching the expansion of her chest with each breath her lungs begged for; between how tight her dress must’ve been and how quickly she was speaking it was a wonder she could breathe at all.

Wouldn’t it be so much easier for her without being dressed head to toe for a perfect presentation? After all, as stunning as she looked in her dress, he had seen her without it and was now unable to get that image out of his mind. Everytime he looked at her now it was as though he was seeing all of her—as though he could see through her dress. But no matter how clear it was in his head, it did not compare to the real thing which left Virys with one clear decision: she would look even better with that dress on the floor…

”Do we have to go?” He had interrupted whatever she had been raving about with a subtle sultriness to his voice, intertwining with his childlike protest. It was a little late for him to back out of his decision to accompany her, they were already well on their way. But Virys watched calmly with an almost uncharacteristic patience as Visaera paused to calculate the best response for her unpredictable other half, ”Because…”

The carriage was not very large to begin with, and Virys made everything shrink in comparison, but all at once the space felt even smaller as he easily carried himself across the space between them to now sit beside her rather than across as they had been, ”I don’t think they need you, as much as I do.”

His finger traced along her jaw, demanding her full undivided attention as though he didn’t already own it completely. This was the fourth time today she had taken them away from him. They could have remained wrapped up in each other all morning but Visaera had pleaded for him to go to breakfast with her and Jaehaerys. They could have returned to bed after their little secret escapade but she had insisted they go tend to his hand. Their mother and Saera had then requested her presence and he had once again agreed to go with her. And now he was accompanying her beyond the walls of the Red Keep. He had done all this for her. Everything he did was always for her. And he had done all this without making a scene. Sure he had whined, and dragged his feet making it well known that he did not like Visaera’s social butterfly tendencies, but Virys had not made any true attempt to stop her at any point. So even if he was unable to change her mind completely, she still owed him for all he had done for her thus far.

Likely had it not been for last night he would have taken a more forceful stance and held his ground against following her around like a lost puppy. But as it was he had had a taste of something sweeter and far more intoxicating than any liquor man could ever create, and Virys was hopelessly hooked on her and the feelings she pulled from him that no one else had ever succeeded at before.

If watching the exposed portion of her chest earlier had been a tease, now it was pure torture with the way he drew heavy breaths from her with their extra close proximity. Virys had leaned well into her space, his own breaths whispering against her skin while his hand pressed against and wrapped around her waist. Initially he sought only to pull her closer, but Virys was quickly losing what limited self control he possessed. He soon pulled back, removing his lips from her neck but only so as to better position the both of them.

Virys’ grip on her tightened and he did not warn her in the slightest before pulling her onto his lap. It was not so easy with her dress between them but he made do. His name escaping her only further fueled him as his fingers dug into where he held her against him. But now that she was here with him—here on him—all reminders of who they were, where they were, and what they were doing flew out the door at a speed faster than light itself.

Despite his desperation, Virys’ hands remained gentle, caressing her frame as though she were precious cargo. Yet there was still a particular roughness to his every touch. She was a fragile masterpiece and he was the sculptor who had created her. He knew the materials needed to be handled with care but he knew their limits and how far it was safe to push them. Virys knew how hard he could grab and grope without causing any real pain, and he used that to his full advantage, smirking slightly anytime she tried to speak up but found herself unable to and rendered to just sounds.

”We could stay here…” He was at her ear again, ”…I could tell him to just keep driving…”

His hands were growing frantic. Each high just unlocked a next level sending him into a spiraling endless cycle of craving more. This wasn’t what he wanted, he wanted her dress off.

Virys’ hand dwarfed her chest while the other pushed at the skirts of her dress to try and expose her to him—any of her, ”…or we could leave…we don’t have to stay here…”

It was almost as though he had chosen to overlook everything Visaera had told him earlier. Her compromise and suggestion that they could visit Dragonstone had done very little to nothing to hold him over. At this point he didn’t care where, he just wanted to leave. With her. For forever. And now seemed as good a time as ever to remind her of that.

”…I need you with me…always…”

Collectively his hands had not stopped touching every inch of her, but his left hand had traveled up to cup the side of her neck—only the sheer size of his hand had it almost enclosing around her neck. Virys’ thumb caressed her cheek, her chin, her lips—anytime she tried to speak he had moved just so below her or with his other hand so as to elicit a reaction from her and keep her unable to focus on anything like good sense or practicality. He didn’t want reality. He just wanted her and he would find a way to keep her with him no matter what it took.

After all he wanted her in more ways than one and included was a new feeling that he had only ever experienced with her. It had been less than a day and he was still running on the high that Visaera gave him. Never before had someone turned him on the way she had. And never before had sexual relations left him feeling satisfied and without the bitter taste of bile growing in the back of his throat. Being with her was the first time he was left wanting more and not hating himself or feeling disgusted over it. And so while he had told her “later”, Virys wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out. Especially being in such close and private proximity.

Visaera’s hands were on his chest for balance, but she was oh so quick to give in to him as he pulled one down between them to where his pants bulged, holding her there against him while he shifted to try and find whatever friction and relief he could considering their present circumstance. Leaning into her his lips ghosted over her skin below her ear, his grip on her tightening at the sensation of her touching him through his pants, ”…Nuha Prumia…” There was a slight whine of desperation to his voice, seemingly placing the power back in her hands despite how much control he held over them in their current situation. He just needed her to listen to him—for once to actually listen and do as he asked and not make excuses for the Kingdom or their family. She owed these people nothing. She owed their family nothing—seven hells if anything they owed her! They owed him—they owed them.

So as the carriage finally seemed to slow to a complete stop, Virys’ mouth moved from her neck as he straightened back up so as to better see her, leaving her pale skin glistening and red. His darkened eyes danced to meet hers as both twins fought to come back down to earth together, their chests rising in almost perfect unison, ”Nuha—”

”Your Highness, we’ve arrived!” The driver had knocked sharply on the door as he made his announcement, interrupting Virys and all but ruining everything as he burst the bubble world that the twins had been so comfortably enveloped in.

But Virys easily fit Visaera’s face in his hand, turning her startled expression from the door and returning her focus to him, “So, Your Highness, what will you choose?” His other hand was still high up her leg under the skirts of her dress where it had been for some time now, drawing little circles into her skin. It was both for his own pleasure, and hers. He knew exactly what he was doing at all times; because while he personally may not have enjoyed the last three years of his sexual ventures, his many partners had and he had learned very quickly how to melt them under his fingers. But even more importantly he had learned how to learn his partners. And so far Visaera had proven on several occasions that she had difficulty walking away once they started. She was new to this. This was exciting for her. She craved him just as much as he did her and she leaned into his every touch, barely able to contain herself at times. And so knowing she was fully captivated, Virys too leaned into her stopping just short of their lips touching and smiling knowingly when hers parted naturally as though to welcome a kiss.

But no kiss would come.

She tried again, moving into his space and Virys in turn retreating just enough to keep out of reach, ”Ah ah~”

His mind was going even faster than his heart was racing in his chest, thinking and overthinking and planning and plotting and making decisions all at an impossible speed. That was the thing with Virys. He was either dangerously impulsive and acting with little to no thought, or he knew exactly what he was doing and how to get what he wanted. The thing was that both paths kept you on your toes and it was very difficult to distinguish well thought idea from uncontrollable impulse. But it was that fine line that had him teasing his other half and passing the torch of choice to her, only to rip it away from her just after her delicate finger tips wrapped around the handle the same way they did around his— ”Are you going to make them wait?”

Make them wait like she had made him wait.

”I thought you wanted this,” After all she had chosen to leave the Red Keep. They had the opportunity to return to her bedchambers and ignore the rest of the world and their responsibilities but she had chosen to come out here. She had chosen to help the people of the city which was just like her. Visaera always wanted to help. And honestly a small part of Virys loved that about her, but the majority of him was upset that it wasn’t him.

He wanted for her to choose him. All day she had chosen everyone but him. Yes she had included him every step of the way but not once had she made someone else wait or turned them down so as to give him her complete undivided attention. But at this point not even choosing him was enough because the only thing he wanted more than her, was for her to want him. And so he would drag this out for as long as he needed until either he could no longer resist or he was thoroughly convinced that she had no other options other than him, and the tone of his whisper made it clear that while he had asked her to choose, he had ultimately made the decision for her as the common tongue finally the spell and dropped them back into the real world, ”Let’s go.”

But even so he made no effort to remove her from his lap, to pull his hands off her or to even give her the space to breathe on her own. Virys may have verbally made the decision, but he still left it up to her to act on it. Would she listen to him like he had been asking of her? He had made it so clear that he wanted her to listen and do what he wanted. So would she listen and get off him? Or would she disobey him and choose to stay, which he also had been asking for…

It was an unfair double edged sword he had balanced her upon and it was at her hesitancy that he finally granted a soft, sweet kiss to the corner of her lips while waiting for her to pick her poison.
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[feelsHASkilig]

"My Life"​

PRINCESS VISAERA TARGARYEN ⊰ THE LITTLE JEWEL

VISAERA (COMMON TONGUE) tab VISAERA (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

The sound of someone gently clearing their throat pulled Visaera’s teasing attention away from her twin brother to find the culprit of their private moment. Even though there were two sets of eyes watching them, it was obvious who had made the noise.

While Saera looked on curiously at the twins, Visaera picked up from her older sister that she wasn’t entirely interested in Virys’ answer to her invitation. The glint of amusement in her eyes indicated to Visaera that she was more interested in the fact that her younger twin siblings were lighthearted with one another again. After a whole week, the older sibling must be relieved.

No, it was not her older sister that disrupted the formation of hers and Virys’ love bubble. It was their mother. There was an immediate hesitancy in the older woman’s face. It was as if she wished to say something, but felt it was no longer her place to intrude. Instead, her gaze was focused intently on the man beside her. The question though, was why? What could their mother have to contribute in a conversation that was exclusively between her and Virys?

After a tense silence, it looked as if their mother decided against interrupting them. A wise decision, Visaera couldn’t help musing to herself as she dropped a hand under the table to place over Virys’. It was at her touch that he finally answered that he would accompany her. That was all she needed to push their disappointment of a mother out of her mind to once more refocus on him. His opinion and his approval was all that mattered to her.

Everything she did—her entire life—was all for him. Even when it didn’t seem like it on the surface.

Before they could set off to where her shipment from Highgarden was being stored, Visaera had a couple tasks to complete.

The first was to assign a couple of her most trusted attendants to spearhead the planning for distributing the goods. One would be assigned to the food that would be donated to the Sept—preferably one that was devoted to The Seven. The other would be put in charge of working with the orphanage and the donated toys. For this one, she chose one that was a mother. Only a mother would understand a child’s joy at receiving such precious gifts. Once both women were assigned, she sent them off to the Sept and the orphanage with handwritten letters detailing her intentions.

The second was to seek permission to assign a handful of the knights of the City Watch to guard her shipment for the night. Luckily for her, she and her brother did not need to seek out their father for such permission. Also luckily for her, she knew she would not need to be too persuasive with the Lord Commander of the City Watch. Just like any member of the gold cloaks, all she needed was enough coin. Or in this case, the right goods.

The Lord Commander himself led the protection detail to the warehouse the shipment would be kept in for the night. All the while Visaera sat in the carriage with Virys. It wasn’t a spacious carriage and with her brother’s long limbs, there was not much room for either of them to be merited personal space. Every run over the cobblestones resulted in her knee constantly bumping into his and she found herself focusing on and being distracted by their contact. It was silly of her to be rendered speechless by something as innocent as accidental physical contact. But it was already a challenge for her to continue any form of conversation with her other half while he looked at her with that appraising gaze.

Virys was intoxicating and there was nothing Visaera could do to combat it. If it’s not his overall presence, it was the little things that made her literally drunk off of him. It was the warmth that radiated from him—whether it was through his layers of clothing or through his fingertips. Just one touch burned her down to her core. It was also his scent. In the three years they were separated, his scent changed and made him more intoxicating. Under the perfumes was a natural scent that as a child she found comfort in. It reminded her of home—of Dragonstone—and gave her peace whenever her day was rough. Except that now, it had her tempted to kiss and lick every inch of his skin. Because the truth was that while every deep breath she took of him reminded her of childhood memories, she could not deny that it also reminded her that he was not a boy anymore. He was a man in every sense of the word. And it made her burn for him even more.

It was for this reason that she felt tortured. Obviously, she wanted to go check on the shipment of goods she had sent to King’s Landing from Highgarden. That was the whole point of this carriage ride. This was planned long ago despite having revealed it just hours before. And yet, she couldn’t untangle herself from the twisting and suffocating vines that was her other half and his influence on her.

That was why, despite being so heavily focused on him, she was still so distracted by him to be rendered shocked and speechless when he suddenly pulled her onto his lap. She was so concentrated on the extra forced proximity when he moved from his side of the carriage to hers that her mind had little time to process when his hands moved to hold her. Next thing she knew, she lost all contact with the carriage floor.

If it was Virys’ goal to make her lose all sense of being, he accomplished it. Everything around her—around them—faded away into a blurred, dark nothingness. Every single one of her senses could only focus on him. And while everything about his all consuming presence brought about primal pleasures, it also brought about the undeniable torture.

He knew. He knew exactly what he was doing with every word and every touch directed right at her. It was the moment she anticipated as soon as she asked him to leave the comfort and safety of her bedchamber. Yet her mind and body were nowhere near prepared for this moment.

His words, though whispered so softly and intimately, were cruel. Even as he called her His Heart she could only close her eyes to fight back the tears. Every bone in her body wanted so badly to give into him; to stop fighting to be the rational one in their love. She wanted to melt and savor the feel of his warm hand as it found purchase against her exposed legs. She wanted to wrap her arms around his as he held her close, his grip so firm against her waist she worried that she might bruise. She wanted to stop trying to be ten steps ahead of everyone that got in the way of their happiness…to just be happy with him now.

But as the carriage slowed to a halt and she was informed by the Lord Commander that they had arrived outside the warehouse, Visaera was abruptly brought back to reality. She blinked at Virys as she wondered if he was being genuine about his efforts to get them out of the carriage. Just a moment ago, he was urging her and luring her into abandoning her charitable efforts to run away with him. Now he was ensuring that she finished what she started; to make her decide. What exactly did he want?!

Although there was a large part of her that always sought out Virys’ approval, Visaera felt the smallest bit of her own self-dignity boil up to the surface as her gaze hardened against his. They had such a long day and this final errand was meant to take the shortest amount of time. Yet Virys insisted on playing his games to drag this out. It was wearing her patience thin. Especially after his cruel, teasing brush of a kiss.

“Virys…” she sighed, dropping her hands off him. Finally the exhaustion was hitting her after their long day.

“You are being so cruel, brother,” was her final word to him before she pushed off his lap and instructed the Lord Commander to open the door. As soon as the door was wide enough, she took the outstretched hand offered to her and stepped out of the carriage. She couldn’t hold back the deep breath she took once she was outside. It wasn’t until she saw the evening sky above that she realized just how suffocated she was while alone with her brother. As she slowly let out an exhale, Visaera instructed the Lord Commander to follow behind her as she approached the closed and guarded entrance to the warehouse. Never once did she pause to look back and see if Virys would follow her. He would have to make that decision on his own. That was his punishment.

Suffice it to say, the tension between the twins was evident the entire carriage ride back to the Red Keep. They remained on their respective benches with the accidental bumps of their knees being their only form of contact or interaction. It took a lot of Visaera’s willpower to fight back the urge to apologize to her brother. He didn’t have to act the way he had when they arrived at the warehouse. He knew this trip was going to be a short one. All he needed to do was let her complete her errand and they could spend the rest of the evening together, alone. It also hadn’t escaped her that he didn’t have to come with her on this errand. He could have stayed in the Keep and waited for her to return. Instead he agreed to go with her and then had the gall to distract her from this one task for no other reason except to be cruel.

But despite this tension between them, they walked together—quietly—back up to her bedchambers. Exhaustion immediately overpowered her as a yawn managed to escape her lips. Luckily she was the one leading the way up the stairs. Whether or not Virys noticed, he did not make it known. The only thing she felt from him was his eyes on her.

When they finally arrived at the door to her bedchambers, she found a couple of her handmaidens standing outside waiting for her return. They immediately acknowledged her presence, offering her a deep curtsy before directing their attention to her brother and offering him the similar level of respect. Visaera stopped right in front of them, offered a gentle smile and a nod of acknowledgment. Without a look back at Virys, she asked the two women if her instructions had been completed while she was away. They confirmed that they had completed their tasks.

Visaera nodded once more then finally looked back at her brother. She immediately met his gaze and held it without uttering a single word. As if they even needed words to be said between them. Even with tensions high, they knew how to communicate with each other better than they could communicate with anyone else in the entire world.

With one look from her dear brother, Visaera knew everything that she needed to know from him.

She returned her attention to her handmaidens and dismissed them for the rest of the night. Both of them stiffened. They tried their best to hide their uncertainty over the orders, but they were unsuccessful as they shot each other a side glance. Visaera chose not to say anything about it. Instead she informed them once more that they would not be needed for the rest of the evening.

After a hesitant pause, her handmaidens once more offered her and Virys a deep curtsy then politely excused themselves. She didn’t move from her spot in the hallway until they fully disappeared around the corner. Even after that she waited an extra couple seconds before giving Virys another look then opening the door to her bedchambers and stepping inside.

Visaera kept the door wide open for Virys to enter. But instead of watching his entrance, her eyes were fixed solely on the intimate dinner spread placed across the circular table in the middle of her bedchambers. “I had this planned for us before we left earlier. That’s why I wanted to ensure that we finish checking the supplies from Highgarden quickly.” While Virys too looked over the dinner spread, she closed the door behind them then rested her back against it to watch for his response. “Despite how I was acting earlier, I was hoping and praying that you wouldn’t be too angry or upset with me to leave me tonight.”

For the first time since earlier in the carriage, Visaera approached her brother and slipped her hand in his. She didn’t say anything for a moment to simply enjoy the feel of his skin against hers. There was no burning tension in their touch; no unquenchable desire that urges them to explore more. It was just them and the overall satisfaction to just be together. Despite her exhaustion from such a long day of activities and errands, in this very moment, she felt so complete with her hand in his.

It was everything and more to remind her of how empty she felt for the last three years. And in that, she let out a deep, satisfying breath.

When she opened her eyes to look up at her brother, she found his eyes already looking at her, watching her. Her heart warmed at his gaze and she smiled brightly at him. “Come, let’s eat. You must be starving.”

When Virys took a seat at the table, Visaera did not follow suit. Instead she walked to his other side to grab the decanter and pour wine into his glass. She then started filling his plate with food, all the while hoping he noticed that she had insisted the kitchens prepare all of his favorite dishes.

“I know that today was not how you probably intended,” she started in a soft voice while she scooped thinly cut seasoned potatoes onto his plate beside slices of pork. “For that, I want to apologize.” With those words between them, she walked over to the other side of the table to take her seat.

“Have you given my proposal some thought?” she asked. They had been eating in silence for a short while, so it was no surprise when Virys looked up from his plate and directed a blank look at her. “To write to our uncle about visiting Dragonstone after this week?” The smallest hint of recognition briefly flashed across his face before it was replaced by a stoic expression. She sighed as she picked up her glass and took a sip of wine.

Although she requested a near full dinner spread for them, Visaera found that she couldn’t touch much of the food on her plate. It wasn’t because she didn’t enjoy the meal. For the most part, she and Virys had similar taste in food. Tonight, she was too invested in making sure that her brother ate as much as he wanted. She just wanted to make sure he was happy with her efforts to make up for pulling them away from the privacy of her bedchambers the entire day. While she did manage some decent progress with the food on her plate, most of it had been moved around or cut into smaller pieces while she focused more on keeping Virys content.

“Would you like some more wine, brother?” she asked, getting up from her seat to walk back over to his side of the table. She was just about to reach for the nearly empty decanter when Virys’ warm touch stopped her from meeting purchase with the cold glass. She immediately turned her attention away from her task to focus on him and wait for him to tell her exactly what he wanted.

Deep down in her racing heart, she hoped that what he wanted…was her.

Sure enough, as he laced his fingers through hers, Visaera felt his other hand slip around her waist to pull her closer to him. She made no effort against this, making herself pliable to his every desire and want. As their chests pressed together, her hands rested on his shoulders. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the elaborate designs on his shirt while she searched his eyes for what he was feeling right now.

But just as her eyes met those that were her exact copy, her vision quickly blurred and darkened as Virys’ lips touched hers. If her heart had been racing before this, it was threatening to jump right out of her chest. She was certain he could feel this.

His lips and tongue tasted of the sweet wine he drank all night, but it was the burning desire that flared between them that made her drunk. As was his effect on her, everything around them faded away until there was nothing but them. Just them. There was nothing else for Visaera to think or worry about except the taste of his tongue as he sought entry and the soft feel of his lips caressed against her own.

Just when she started to succumb to the blissfulness of his kiss, however, Visaera was brought back to the reality of her bedchambers. The once peaceful darkness was interrupted by the cruel pull back to the numerous candles and the cold evening breeze. She opened her eyes to stare longingly and questioningly at her beloved.

Virys' own gaze was nothing like her own. He didn’t look upon her with longing. If she wasn’t already familiar with his Targaryen eyes, she would have sworn they were a blazing red with the way he looked at her now. There were only two things those eyes could convey: hunger and desire. And deep down, something she could feel in the way he firmly held her in place flush against him, a determination to achieve satisfaction for his hunger and desire. With this in mind, she allowed him to remove her arms from around his shoulders so that he could turn her to have her back pressed against him.

Her breaths came in heavy focusing on the path his hands took across her body. From their possessive grip along her waist to the slow journey they took along her sides. A shaky moan escaped her and her eyes fluttered shut when the tips of his fingers found her skin. She wanted so badly to guide his hands further, but sensed that doing so would ruin whatever he had planned for her—for them. So she kept still, savoring his touch and all that it ignited in her.

Then, suddenly, his hands moved away from its teasing efforts to pull at the back of her dress. Just as quickly, the soft and delicate fabric loosened around her middle. She gasped feeling the dress slip right off her shoulders and slide down her body like water. Then the gasp morphed into another moan realizing that she was now standing bare to him with her dress pooled around her feet.

Without thinking she turned back around to face him, to offer him the view she knew he most desired. She made no move to cover herself from him. Instead she stood with her arms resting at her sides, waiting for her dear brother’s next instructions.

It felt as if she stood naked in front of him for ages. A sense of vulnerability teased its way through her, but it was losing its battle against the heat that radiated through her. Oh, how she craved Virys. She felt tortured by the lack of his touch and the feel of his lips on her—any part of her. She wanted so badly to just take that single step toward him and reconnect them just like they had been the previous night. She desperately wanted to rip the layers of clothes hiding him away from her. Her knees practically shook as she fought back the urge to beg him to be as bare to her as she was to him.

Then, her eyes focused intently on Virys’ uninjured hand as he lifted it up toward her. This was it. This was the invitation she had been waiting for. Without a moment’s hesitation, she took his hand and stepped away from the discarded dress on the floor to return to her rightful place between his legs. Her eyes closed once again to savor the feel of his hands on her skin; to get lost in the bubble world that was strictly their own.

She wanted nothing more than to focus on him now. The rest of the world could wait for them. Her charity work. Her wedding plans. Her plans. She would return to them at dawn.

For now, while the evening was young and long, she would only have one thought in mind: Virys, her life.

“A—” The rest of the words were swallowed by the return of his kiss. As she deepened the kiss, she poured her entire heart into the words she wanted to say.

Avy jorraelan. I love you. ​

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[JINFINITE]

"My Heart..."​

PRINCE VIRYS TARGARYEN ⊰ THE SLIGHTED DRAGON

VIRYS (COMMON TONGUE) tab VIRYS (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

Despite having shadowed Visaera’s every step since her return, Virys made no attempt to follow her out of the carriage. Only his eyes moved as they watched until she was out of sight, and once she was the flat bottom of his fist slammed into the wall, simultaneously voicing both his pain and frustration in a short yell.

Why!? Why did she never listen to him? She had promised she would never leave him and yet…he had watched her walk away, seemingly completely unbothered that he was not at her side. She had dragged him here and there all day, not that it normally would have bothered him…Virys had always been happy to follow her around even as kids. But today—but right now he no longer wished to follow.

He was far too angry to want to be anywhere near her. Yes it was true that she had asked and he had agreed to accompany her on this errand, but she had shut him down and shut him out with such swiftness that he had been stunned still and silent—frozen in his seat unable to chase after her even to express his discontent.

Even when she returned he did not offer her any of himself. Neither a glance nor word to acknowledge her. After all she had made her choice. She had chosen her priorities and time and time again it was not him. But as upset and frustrated as he appeared…he actually was not.

If he truly was mad he would have expressed it. He would have gone after her. He would have told her everything she had done wrong. Yes he was hurt by her actions, but he had been hurt far worse before, and Virys held a deeply rooted fear of that hurt. He would do anything to not feel that again, and so he sat suffering in his own silence for the entirety of their trip back to The Red Keep. His emotions simmering just below the surface, forever threatening to boil over but leveling back out each time their knees were jostled together. Each time Visaera took an audible breath. And then each time he looked upon her once he regained the strength to raise his gaze.

Visaera had not done anything other than to exist, but that was enough to calm her other half with her presence alone by the time they were entering the very place he had spent all day so desperate to return to—her room.

While it was true that their secret intimacy had been tied to these four walls, that was not the only thing that had been driving him crazy chasing. It was much simpler than that…here he was safe. Here it was just him and her and no one could reach them…or him. How often had he shown up at her door as children, his skin or heart, or sometimes both bruised and bleeding? And how many times during her absence had he come in here to try and feel close to her knowing fully well that the emptiness would just hurt more?

All day Visaera had taken him out of his comfort and put him in situations she knew he would not have chosen on his own accord. She knew exactly what to say and how to get him to agree with her—to listen to her—because she was the only person in the world who could. And so maybe that was why once Visaera braved the topic, a flicker of Virys’ temper flared back up as a feeling of manipulation welled up inside. As though he had been played and fallen victim to his twin’s brilliance.

Tell me, how did I intend it to go?? But Virys’ silence served as an acceptance of her apology, using what sliver of self control he had to not drag out his earlier misery. She was here with him. She had finally chosen him—she had chosen them—and as rash and impulsive as he was, Virys was not fool enough to speak out and ruin what his other half had put together for him…for them. And so while the food and her words alone did not heal his drawn out hurt from today, he was at least receptive enough to allow her room to encase them back into the bubble where he was safe and loved and it was just the two of them without interference from anyone—

But then Visaera invited the subject of their uncle into the bubble, and that would not do. All day she had allowed others to come between them, but not anymore. He wouldn’t allow her the time or space to so much as think of mentioning another. However she did succeed in distracting a portion of Virys’ mind. He held a deep, deep longing for their childhood home and the homesickness set in at the very mention of Dragonstone. He so desperately wanted to agree with her, to return with her and to stay there with her forever. To leave the rest of their family behind and go back to where they truly belonged. However the distraction was short lived as Visaera drew his attention back to her at the mention of wine, and from that moment on Virys’ focus would be solely on his other half for the rest of the night.

At first Virys did not move. He was locked in a silent limbo between distrust and desire. Only his eyes moved as they traced every curve of her now naked form. He savored the moment, taking in all of her and wanting so badly to join her—to strip himself of his clothes and sweep her off her feet. To taste her, and feel her, and touch her, and mesh themselves together as one. But after earlier he held some reservations and did not fully believe that she would follow through if he acted upon these feelings now. Was she fully committed to him? Or would her own agenda interrupt yet again and pull her away?

In the end Virys could not hold himself back a moment more and so wordlessly summoned her forward, locking his lips with hers before she could change her mind or offer him an excuse. His good hand roamed and groped and covered every inch of her that he could reach from his seated position. Meanwhile the bandaged one rested on her hip to steady her against him; but it quickly skimmed over her soft skin to settle at the curve of her bottom, squeezing her despite the pressure it put on his wound.

It wasn’t long before his hand slid lower and his grip tightened under her thigh to lift it up and over his own so that she straddled his leg. Immediately after his soft gasp broke their kiss as his hand released her and dropped limp over her in his lap.
“Does it still hurt?”
Hurt was not exactly how Virys would describe it at that moment. It was more so an extreme level of discomfort. Stiff and tender where new skin was trying to grow and mend the edges of the wounds back together. But that did not mean he was in the clear, not yet. His hand was in a vulnerable state right now, fragile even. Much like he and Visaera’s relationship to one another. All it would take was one wrong move, one more impulsive outburst and his cut would reopen and he’d be back to bleeding all over her—both physically and emotionally.

Ignoring her concerned inquiry, his other hand snaked up her side and wrapped loosely around her neck, pulling her in towards him until their foreheads met, ”You said you would never leave me,” His voice was like velvet; soft and smooth in one direction but with the threatening knowledge that to go in the opposite direction would be rough, ”You promised...” The image of her back turning to him was still so vivid and painful in his head, however this new view of her bare and beautiful before him—for him was quickly overwhelming his senses. All of his movements had slowed and grew faint till he barely touched her as he reminded her of their previous conversation here in her chambers, almost as though making an example out of it. To show her what would happen if she left, or rather what wouldn’t happen. But Virys lacked the patience to continue any cruel teasing, not when he himself was so desperate for her.

Whether sexually or platonic, Virys was usually very particular when it came to being touched. To be blunt, he didn’t like it. Not when his partners tried to pleasure him and not when his family tried to comfort him. It wasn’t uncommon for him to cringe away from physical contact, and he had always been that way. And the exception had always been Visaera. He had never shied from her touch, but last night had been the first time she had ever tried in that nature. To touch him as a means of pleasuring him.

He didn’t even like to touch himself. He had tried, countless times. But each time left a sickening sensation in the back of his throat and a feeling of self disgust whenever he continued through to completion. But after last night, and the tease of this morning that had lingered with him all day, Virys was dying to be touched—for her touch. To feel her on him in any and every capacity of the phrase. Last night she had opened his eyes to a whole new world of sensation that he had never felt before and Virys needed more. He was hooked on her.

He took her hand from his shoulder, guiding her down to the bulge in his pants and sandwiching her hand against it. Meanwhile Virys leaned himself in towards her. His lips landed at her neck, planting kisses down to her chest where he nipped and then sucked at the sensitive skin of her breast, a thrill of adrenaline shooting through him at her reaction.

”Nuha—” A deep inhale interrupted him as she pulled her own reaction out of him now, carefully and strategically palming him through his pants as though it was her area of expertise. Virys wanted to ask who had taught her how to do this, how to act like this—but he was far too fixated on her here in this moment for his jealousies to run rampant with him. So instead he gave in to another curiosity of his from last night as he asked, “What else did you learn for me?”
He spoke slowly, slyly, dragging his question out as though dangling a carrot in front of a donkey. Pulling her in firstly for his own pleasure, but in turn assuring her of her own as he eagerly relinquished her hand back to her own control so that he could run his up and down her thighs as teasingly slow as his words had been. And as Visaera began to rock herself against his thigh, Virys returned to her chest, both with his hand and his mouth.

He moaned her name against her skin, finding himself trapped between enjoying himself and an odd unsettling feeling that took several minutes for him to process. It was not that he was mentally or emotionally uncomfortable with what they were doing or the sensations she was pulling from him, but rather he was physically uncomfortable as he still sat fully dressed and his clothes were restricting him in more ways than one. But it was Visaera who had unconsciously alerted him to this as he felt a warm dampness soaking through his pants where she sat on his thigh.

As Virys’ lips reconnected with hers, their tongues mingling together, his hand slipped down to where they were connected and brushed against her heat. Once, twice, his thumb passed over her three times before a shift in his wrist allowed a single slender finger to press against her as it sought entry. Virys’ own heart was racing, and he knew hers was too by the pulse he could feel throbbing between her legs. It definitely wasn't the first time he had experienced another’s arousal being so strong, but it was the first time that he had felt a reaction towards it and he was all too aware of himself growing under her touch.

He needed space. He needed air. He needed to breathe. He needed to be rid of his clothes and to be able to feel Visaera against his own skin. But he couldn’t bring himself to stop them long enough to do so. In fact his bandaged hand had taken hold of her hips, urging her to move faster whilst his leg began bouncing beneath her. His chest heaved heavily, kissing her as though she were the oxygen he needed to survive. Any gasp for air was accompanied by a moan, or a profanity beneath his breath. Virys’ head was spinning; he was overheating and his grip on her hip increased while his other hand picked up speed feeling her tighten against him. But still he was torn between wanting to push on for more because he was close and he knew she was too…or did he want to stop them, rip off his clothes, and carry her over to the bed to take her himself…​

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[feelsHASkilig]

"My Life"​

PRINCESS VISAERA TARGARYEN ⊰ THE LITTLE JEWEL

VISAERA (COMMON TONGUE) tab VISAERA (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

Visaera blinked slowly as she watched the first hints of dawn creep across the buildings of King’s Landing. The truth was that she hadn’t slept a single wink that night. Even after her passionate exhibition of the skills she learned—for him—back at High Garden. Even after they talked well into the middle of the night. Even after resting her head peacefully on her beloved brother’s bare chest—focusing on nothing except the beating of his heart as he fell deeper and deeper into sleep—nothing would lull her into the same slumber. As she continued to watch the first signs of a new day shine a light over the kingdom, she knew almost instantly that it would also be one of the longest days since her return.

That is not to say that Visaera wasted this restless evening doing nothing. Once she was assured that Virys had fallen asleep in her arms, she found herself in constant contemplation. She could no longer deny her failings throughout that day. Everything she thought she was doing for the sake of her brother, it wasn’t until she had nothing else to do but look back on them did she realize that she was wrong. She should have been more considerate of Virys’ feelings and opinions. She should have done better including him in her ideas and her plans. She hadn’t realized until now that she had essentially dragged her beloved around with her like some dog on a short leash. She should have treated him better, with the level of respect that he so rightfully deserved.

At that she wondered then if their night of passion was enough to Virys to make up for all of her shortcomings. Had she shown him enough of what she had learned for him to accept her apology? Had she given him enough pleasure to award her his forgiveness? She hoped so. But even if she still needed to do more to earn it, would she? She had done nearly everything in her knowledge to please him. She offered him far more than she had teased the night before and earlier that morning. But…what was it enough? Or did Virys still want more?

Of course, the more important question she asked herself, was she ready to give it to him?

Her immediate answer was yes. Even long before Marta taught her the many ways a woman could pleasure a man—and herself—Visaera knew her virtue belonged to Virys. She knew it the moment he kissed her for the first and final time before they were torn apart. It was the singular thought that kept her sane all those months at High Garden when she wasn’t screaming at her servants to be returned back to King’s Landing. She knew, deep in her heart, that there was only one man she could give her maidenhead. And yet, she also knew that she could use it as a weapon to gain everything she ever wanted not only for her, but for the only man she loved.

She knew it would secure her what she needed to gain the upperhand on the family that has used her since the moment her dragon landed on the grounds of the Red Keep. The same family that had beaten and abused her other half for their benefit. It would give her everything she needed to finally bring her family to their knees.

So as she listened to the rhythmic beating of her beloved brother’s heart as he slept, she bit back the tears that threatened to fall. For she knew that as much as she wanted badly to give herself fully to the man in her arms, she could not. To ensure that all of her plans would succeed, she would need to break the very heart she listened intently to and give her virtue to another; one less worthy, but necessary for her success.

It was thoughts of her plans, plots and schemes that kept It at bay once she was reminded that her body was no longer fully hers to give to whoever she truly wanted. Visaera reminded herself that from the moment she returned to King’s Landing, every step she took after was exactly the steps she needed to take. She could not risk even the smallest misstep with everything to lose if it all failed. There was no telling what her father, the king, would do to her were he to discover how his youngest child was utilizing his own paranoia against him.

Everything, and she meant everything, had to go exactly as she intended.

As the sun gradually lifted past the horizon to shine above the city, signaling that a new day was beginning, Visaera grew restless staying in bed. Not because she no longer wanted to lay beside Virys. On the contrary, were she not herself, she would decide to remain entwined with her life, bare skin to bare skin to feed off each other’s warmth, for the rest of her days. But no, she could not entertain such desires. There was so much to do today.

However, despite her determination to dedicate her energy to her plans, she allotted herself a selfish moment. Or, to be more exact, a selfish moment to think of her love. Visaera lifted her head up to gaze into Virys’ sleeping face. She frowned slightly as she worried about the lines that now creased his perfect face. What haunted him in his dreams? What dared ruin the peace that he deserved?

If only she could reach into his dreams and steer him away from that which troubles him. She would give anything to remind him of the happy memories of their childhood back in their ancestral home. Or even of last night as she straddled him on her bed and rewarded them with pleasure as she grinded her sex against his own. To show him more of what she learned for him while they were kept apart.

At her own recollection of such euphoric pleasure, Visaera’s legs clenched shut under the sheets as slick warmth dripped down her thigh. Her thoughts from the middle of the night returned. Would it be such a terrible misstep to give herself fully to Virys? If just the tease of such a connection was already so pleasurable, surely the very act of giving him her maidenhead would be more than this world could dare offer.

But as Virys suddenly stirred in his sleep and the arm wrapped around her pulled away from her, another thought slithered into her mind. Suddenly the warmth she felt just a moment ago turned bitingly cold.

What if her virtue was all Virys wanted? What if she would become yet another name in the list of women he had destroyed for his own selfish pleasures? What if the only thing Virys wanted—to the point that he would keep up this act the entire time—was to ruin her and toss her aside when she no longer had any use for him?

What if it was only her body he wanted? What if…what if he didn’t truly love her in the same way she was utterly and completely devoted to him?

Suddenly she found it nearly impossible to breathe. Her chest tightened as fear and the threat of disappointment consumed her. There was no time to think such things about her brother. There was no room to believe such ridiculous lies. If she even let herself think such things for a moment longer, she knew that life itself would be pointless. Everything she was doing for him, the very act of returning to this terrible place for him, would all be pointless.

After Visaera carefully climbed off her bed and wrapped her evening robe around her body, she stared at the open window. A shudder slithered up her spine as another, singular thought hissed in her mind. If all of this is pointless in the end—if Virys truly wanted nothing more than your body—what’s to stop you from walking over to the window? And to keep walking until your feet touched nothing—

It was Virys whispering her name that snapped her back to the room. She blinked then looked down at where she stood, wondering when she had walked away from the bed.

When she heard Virys call out to her once more, thus confirming that she hadn’t imagined it, she pushed aside the worries that suddenly plagued her to focus solely on the man that still lay on her bed. From where she stood, she couldn’t take her eyes off the sight in front of her. It didn’t seem possible that Virys could be so beautiful even as he tried to blink away the sleep that clung to his piercing Targaryen eyes. So many have told the twins throughout their life how similar their eyes were, but Visaera could never believe them. It was impossible to believe that her own eyes held the same intensity as his. There was no way she could ever command such power over anyone the way he did. But that wasn’t exactly what she was thinking at this very moment as she stood in the middle of her bedchamber staring at nothing but him. No, she clung desperately to the thought that this man—in all of his power and glory—was hers, and hers alone. No matter how many women came before her, none of them would ever be able to claim him.

But do you really believe that, Princess?

Visaera shivered as she tried to push away the creeping insecurities suddenly invading her thoughts. She tried to silence the persuasiveness slithering through her as she moved to sit on the corner of her bed.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you, brother?” she asked in a whisper. Her eyes trailed down to where their hands suddenly touched, reveling in the immediate warmth of the connection. It quieted, leaving her in a blissful silence with only the sounds of King’s Landing as their background noise.

“I wish I could come back to bed, but I have so much to do before my handmaidens arrive. I am needed at the Sept soon.” Visaera brushed her thumb gently across the back of Virys’ hand. Last night, that very hand had introduced her to a level of pleasure she thought she knew from her lessons from Marta. With Virys, everything was so much more.

When Virys asked what errands she could possibly have first thing in the morning, Visaera looked away from their entwined hands to once more gaze into his piercing eyes. She smiled softly at him. “Well, firstly, before anything else, I wanted to write to our lord uncle in Dragonstone. Just to let him know of our intentions to stay there for a while.” She watched intently for his reaction, hoping he was happy to hear that she really meant for them to leave for Dragonstone. “I think giving him until the end of the week to prepare for us seems appropriate, don’t you agree? Of course, I suppose he doesn’t need that much time. He has mentioned before that we are always welcome.”

Suddenly, she couldn’t contain herself. Visaera climbed onto the bed then straddled Virys’ lap. Her eyes fluttered closed at the feel of his hands slipping under her robe. A shiver followed where his fingers grazed teasingly against her skin. She moaned as his thumb brushed across her breast. “Ñuha Abrar,” she breathed into the space between them. If this was his attempt to seduce her into staying in bed instead of following through with her duties, she found it increasingly impossible to say no.

Unlike the past couple nights, there was an assertiveness in the way Virys touched her. Sure, he was still teasing to pull a reaction out of her, but now it was moreso because he knew what kind of reaction he could get out of her. When she could pull herself away from the pure bliss of his touch long enough to look into his eyes, she saw the way his mind worked with the new knowledge he now had about her. It was at that moment that she believed it was the right decision to tell him last night just what and how she learned to please him. At least now he could put to bed whatever worries he may have had about her sexual education to simply focus on bringing her to bed.

A giggle escaped her as she suddenly felt her weight being lifted until she was pushed onto her back on the bed. Almost instinctively her bare legs wrapped around Virys’ waist as he moved to climb on top of her. In the sudden movement, her robe had come undone, now splayed out under her and barely clinging to her shoulders. Before she could fully comprehend this new position, his lips were on hers pulling her back into the mist of passion she would gladly get lost in.

Their private morning of bliss came to an end when the first of her handmaidens arrived to prepare her for the day. It didn’t escape her notice when the young women stepped into her bedchambers and paused to find that the Targaryen prince was sitting naked on her bed. They would soon learn that whatever whispers they may start throughout the castle would stir little. It is not uncommon to find Prince Virys in Visaera’s room in the mornings. They would just need to adapt to the fact that they are now adults. Besides, how often had servants walked into Virys’ bedchambers to find him asleep naked?

Once the initial shock had worn off and one of the handmaidens was instructed to inform Virys’ valet that the prince would prepare for the day in her rooms, Visaera prepared for the day. As promised—although delayed—Visaera composed the letter to their uncle informing him of their intentions to visit and stay in Dragonstone. Once she was done composing the letter, she left it in the drawer of her writing table. She would personally deliver the letter to be sent by raven at the end of the day as she did not yet trust her current staff of handmaidens for such a private task. For all she knew, at least one of them could be a spy for her father. It was not yet the right time to announce to the king that his two youngest children had every intention of leaving King’s Landing to stay at their ancestral home.

When Visaera was done being dressed and made up for the day, she watched as one staff of servants left and another arrived. Virys’ staff followed his personal valet. One of them also carried the breakfast tray she called for and went to work preparing it so that she could at least eat while Virys took his turn getting dressed. She was surprised when Virys insisted on joining her for her events in King’s Landing. It had crossed her mind earlier that he probably wouldn’t want to go with her. After all, he had never been the charitable royal. But when he made it known that he was going, she didn’t bother assuring him that he didn’t have to. At least, in her opinion, this was a decision he made all on his own.

“In ascending order, name each of Balerion’s riders,” she prompted as she popped a plump grape into her mouth. She smirked at the straight look Virys shot her through the mirror he stood in front of. Just because they were adults now, it did not mean she would stop testing him on the history of their family.

“Or! Better yet!” Visaera left the table to stand behind her brother, offering his valet space to work. But as their eyes met through the mirror, her tongue suddenly felt too heavy to lift. The way he looked at her, his eyes trailing down the gown she wore—from the intricate details across the light blue skirts to the long flowing sleeves that were the fashion in King’s Landing to the way it perfectly shaped her slim figure—she no longer remembered what it was she intended to do in this very spot. Nor did she really care, so long as he kept staring at her like she was the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros.

But then Virys repeated the last words she spoke, the teasing smirk now reflecting against the mirror. Her eyes narrowed briefly at him before she regained her focus. “Name every rider of Balerion the Black Dread in order of shortest to longest tenure.”

By the time the twins were both dressed and well fed, Visaera felt that the spirits between them were much higher than the day before. She wondered if part of it had to do with having, in fact, spent uninterrupted—servants not included—time together. No family members to come and invade their precious bubble. Regardless of the reason, she found that she was breathing easier once they were loaded into the carriage and made their way to the Sept.

A large crowd of common folk were already standing outside the steps of the Sept as their carriage pulled up to the spot where a formation of guards stood waiting. Visaera followed behind Virys out of the carriage, taking the hand he offered to assist her down the unsteady steps. Almost immediately she felt the eyes of the common folk on her. Many greeted her with attempted bows and curtsies. But she noticed that their attention didn’t linger on her for too long. Not when the hope of a fair meal was in front of them. Visaera paused beside her twin brother to look across the area. She caught sight of the couple handmaidens she assigned to assist in organizing the event. They stood with the septas as they attempted to keep order. With a quick look up at Virys, she accepted his arm then began their ascent up the steps to the front of the crowd.

As much as she wanted to be more involved in feeding the hungry and poor of King’s Landing, Visaera made sure to stick close to Virys’ side the entire event. Every so often she would accompany the Septon to a small group who wanted to thank her for her gifts. Her years of religious education of the Faith told her to keep her responses humble and modest and her smile maternal. It was all the common folk really wanted from their royalty. So while she was not permitted—both by Virys and the guards following behind them—to accept the outstretched hands of the people, she made sure that each of the common folk she had the chance to speak to felt that they had her full attention while they had it.

Other than a small handful of altercations that were quickly broken up by the knights of the City Watch, the event was deemed a success. They stayed at the Sept until the crowds started to die down and Visaera could see an end to the line. She was assured that there would be enough food after they left, but she did pick up that the Septon refrained from mentioning how long they would have enough food. As much as she would like to hope to feed every hungry subject of King’s Landing, Visaera knew that strategically the event would have satisfying results in the days to come. She could guess that the common folk would talk about the return of their Little Jewel and the return of her charitable work. But she was definitely not done yet.

As their carriage slowed to the front of a stone building, Visaera peeked out the small window. She immediately found what she was looking for. Standing behind a tight formation of more knights was an open carriage with a small stack of chests sitting neatly on top. Beside the carriage was another pair of her handmaidens put in charge of overseeing this event. Once their carriage stopped right outside the building, Visaera waited for Virys to step out onto the streets before following closely behind him. She noticed immediately that a gold cloak had been placed on the ground at the foot of the carriage. One quick squelching step told her exactly the reason why.

Visaera looked up at the stone building, taking in the familiarity of the structure. Of all the charitable work she had done since she was child, following behind the skirts of her mother, the queen, visiting the orphanage was honestly her favorite. As a child, it meant having other kids not part of the court to play with. As she got older, her priorities changed to ensuring that as many of the children could at least have a day to just think about being children.

The doors to the orphanage opened wide for Visaera while she was in the middle of confirming with her handmaidens that the inventory on the carriage was complete. She turned in time to find a familiar face smiling at her in a warm welcome. She was relieved that the matron of the orphanage had not changed while she was away. She knew now that she was guaranteed another successful charity event for the common folk of King’s Landing to talk about.

Visaera returned the warm smile and approached the matron, accepting the woman’s deep curtsy and stream of appreciation for her donation to the orphanage. Not only had Visaera gathered together chests full of toys to donate to the children, she had put aside a small sum of money that the matron could use for any repairs or services she may deem fitting for smoother operations.

“I would love to see the children!” Visaera said with a bright smile.

After the matron invited her inside, opening the doors wider for her, Visaera briefly looked over at Virys. She asked him to oversee the transfer of every chest into the building. As much as she would love to drag him inside with her, she could not ignore that for the most part Virys was not quite fond of children. So she offered him the opportunity to delay his likely interactions with them.

When she finally entered the orphanage, she was met with big, curious eyes staring up at her. All of the older children—a handful she vaguely recognized—remained in the back, carrying the babies. She greeted the children to keep them distracted from the continuous appearance of the guards walking in and out of the open doors carrying the chests inside. Not that keeping these children distracted was difficult. After all, almost all of them had never seen a member of the Targaryen royal family before. Now, suddenly, one of the princesses was standing in the same room as them. Many stared awestruck at her, often unable to respond to any questions she may ask them. There were also more of the children that were just overall too shy to even look at her, in which case she tried her best to break through to them.

In the middle of watching a couple of little girls try their hardest to show her their best practiced curtsy, Visaera briefly peeked over at the corner of the large room where the chests were now standing. She quickly counted the chests, nodding when she noted that all of them were accounted for. Her smile widened as she returned her full attention to the children.

“Children! Do you see those two women standing over there,” Visaera pointed at her handmaidens standing in front of the chests. “They are here to assist me today. If you promise to stay well behaved, you can all walk over to them nicely and receive a gift that I have brought for you all from High Garden.” The big, curious eyes grew bigger from pure excitement. Many were eager to run over to the other side of the room to get their gift, but they danced in place or tugged at their clothes to contain themselves so as to keep their promise to behave. The matron then nodded to the children. They didn’t need to be told twice.

Now that the children were fully distracted by the prospect of new toys, Visaera took this opportunity to finally look around the room. Almost immediately, she noted that her other half was nowhere to be found. Her chest tightened with worry as she excused herself for a moment to step outside.

Her foot had just stepped over the threshold of the entrance to the orphanage when her eyes fell on exactly what she had been looking for. She found Virys standing at their carriage, but he was not alone.

Visaera suddenly found it difficult to breathe. Every ounce of confidence she carried with her today about their love for each other crumbled at her feet. She recognized the woman standing in front of him. There was no mistaking the long legs, the perfect curves and the sultry gaze. The full and true embodiment of a real woman. And as the woman—the whore—took a step closer to her other half, she was frozen stiff by the cold realization that she was, after all, fooling herself.

Such a foolish little hopeless romantic, aren’t you? You thought that taking his cock in your mouth was enough to make him yours?

Had Virys even noticed yet that she was standing there? Did he even care?

Face it, Princess. He will never love you. All of this. Every single part of this. Was for nothing—

“Princess! Princess!”

Visaera blinked the tears back quickly as she turned away from the world shattering scene in front of her to find the angelic voice that called out to her. She could immediately feel It slither away begrudgingly. With a deep breath, she returned the warm smile on her face.

Standing a bit apart from the rest of the children currently playing with their new toys, a little boy that had to be no older than six looked up at her with big, bright eyes and an adorable smile. She giggled, noting that he was missing plenty of teeth. “I got a knight, Princess! Thank you, Princess!”

At last, Visaera stepped away from the door to focus intently on the child. She collected her sleeves in front of her before lowering herself into a crouch in front of him. “You are most welcome, my child. I know that this brave knight will protect you, just like our very own knights of the realm.”

The return of the princess brought the children’s attention briefly away from their toys to swift and hover around her. But as the children crowded her to listen to what she had to say, she kept her focus on the little boy who now clung tightly to his toy knight.

“You know, bravery is not the only thing that makes a person a knight,” she continued, standing up now to walk over to a chair she knew had been left out for her. The children followed. “They come in all shapes and sizes with a multitude of duties they perform with the fullness of their heart.” She briefly looked over at the two guards standing a fair distance away. “But at the very core of any protector of the realm, is the sworn duty to the realm. And that includes every one of you. You are Westeros, as much as I am. You are worthy of being protected.”

She paused to look across the sea of young faces in front of her. “There are many stories of knights and warriors that have done so much to protect the kingdom. They are all brave and strong. Heroes that will leave their mark in history. But…” Immediately the children perked with increased attentiveness, “There is one that I personally believe is the greatest warrior in all of the Seven Kingdoms. One that has done so much to ensure that all of you remain safe.”

It was then that she felt him, his eyes watching her. Visaera fought the urge to look back. She feared that one look at that piercing gaze and she would crumble into nothingness. So instead, Visaera sat up straight in her chair, her head held high as she said, “Let me tell you of the many victories of Prince Virys Targaryen, rider of Yena the Gray Wraith.” ​

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[JINFINITE]

"My Heart..."​

PRINCE VIRYS TARGARYEN ⊰ THE SLIGHTED DRAGON

VIRYS (COMMON TONGUE) tab VIRYS (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

With the exception of his visit to the dragon pits, Virys had not left the Keep alone since before Visaera’s return—a very stark difference compared to how he would typically avoid being trapped inside of it— nor had he summoned anyone to his room...which was why it took an extra moment for him to process the female voice that softly called for his attention from just outside his peripherals.

It was not the sweet addicting voice of his other half, nor was it the teasing of their older sister Saera. Their other sister Rhaella never made any efforts to converse with him unless absolutely necessary. Their mother would not have dared to approach him from behind, especially outside the walls of the Keep. And not to mention the fact that none of his family would have addressed him as ”My Prince.”

Virys had half the mind to believe he was hallucinating voices, after all it would not be the first time his mind had played cruel tricks on him. But as he turned to investigate his eyes immediately zeroed in on an all too familiar face as she lowered her shawl from acting as a hood to instead drape around her neck and shoulders, leaving the front to droop well past her exposed cleavage. But while she offered him a tiny curtsy and smile, he neither verbalized nor acted on any sort of acknowledgement himself other than a subtle release of tension as he relaxed in her presence.

She was smart enough to not stand too close despite their shared intimate history and similar reputations, meanwhile Virys had no interest in further interactions. So there was physically a gap between them, though both had locked eyes as though having a silent conversation through them.

”I was beginning to think you had left King’s Landing without saying goodbye.”
”Left?”

But she just smiled and shrugged her shoulders, indicating she would not be further explaining her cryptic musing as she shifted her weight to one side, accentuating her figure, ”Rose—“
”It’s rare to see you these days, My Prince. You look well.”

Virys could vividly remember the last day he had seen her, he had spent the day of Visaera's arrival avoiding her by calling Rose to his bed. But time itself had become a blur since that day and Virys could not reliably remember how long ago it had been.

He watched as Rose’s eyes flitted away, as though taking careful note of her surroundings before looking back up to him and nodding her head as though saying she should take her leave now, ”I’ll see you soon I’m sure, don’t wait too long…”

And with that she was gone. It did not take long for Virys to lose sight of her as she disappeared into the crowds, taking a tiny part of him along with her. It was not that Virys was drawn to her in terms of attraction, after all no woman had that effect on him—except for Visaera it seemed. But there was a comfort Virys had found during his times with Rose that he almost longed for now. Rose was predictable, he always knew what to expect when he saw her and she knew how to cater to him in ways no other whore could.

During the three years of Visaera’s absence he had frequently spent his time and money with Rose and from that formed a fragile relationship. He felt nothing towards her, and she knew to tread carefully sleeping with The Slighted Dragon prince. But there was a bond of understanding weaved between them that Virys had never found with anyone other than his twin. It was not that Rose understood what was in his heart, but she understood and respected him as a person which was more than even most of his family could do. She knew when and what to say when he was angry, she knew when sex would help calm him and when to keep her distance for her own safety.

But ever since Visaera’s return he had not thought of Rose once. He didn’t need to. He didn’t need her while he had Visaera, and a buzz of annoyance even ran through him now as he turned back to the doors in which Visaera had disappeared through some time ago. Rose had distracted him, kept him from his other half longer than he needed to be—

However once inside, it seemed Visaera was now the preoccupied one as she was surrounded by children. Virys’ jaw was clenched, fighting within himself to not rush over and pull her from her chair and away from all those dirty little hands. He watched in tense silence as she spoke to the children, but it wasn’t until hearing his own name slip from her lips that Virys found a break in his temper.

Those lips that he had kissed so deeply he had physically felt their hearts merging as one…those lips that had pulled such a strong release from him he had almost questioned his own sexual experiences more than hers. Those lips that spoke to him in High Valyrian and had calmed and assured him from the very day they entered this world. Lips that now stroked his ego as she spoke publicly of his successes as a dragon rider.

It had him thinking back to that morning when she was quizzing him as they used to when they were kids. How Yena used to be a myth, a mere mention in their books that no one could prove existed apart from horror stories passed down through the generations. But she was very much real. And it was already recorded in history that he was her rider. the first to tame The Gray Wraith. It definitely filled him with a selfish sense of pride over the realization that it wouldn’t be long before he would be a name studied and memorized in association with Yena just as Balerion’s riders were. To these kids deep in the city it might forever remain somewhat of a story and a legend, but to those of his standing he would be of importance. People would be forced to recognize and acknowledge his successes. After all without him and Yena, where would Westeros be now? In complete chaos and endless warfare, that’s where. As horrid as his memories of war were, he could not deny that Yena’s dragonfire brought a swift end to battles that otherwise would have dragged on for months if not years.

But all this talk of the battles he had participated in dislodged a stone in the wall that protected his mind and he could feel the rest of it threatening to crumble.

Yes, Visaera spoke true that every battle Virys had been sent to aid in their father's army had come out victorious, but at what cost?

He had been just a child. Barely fourteen years of age the first time he killed a man. And while yes, it was true that he had not yet killed anyone with his own two hands, he was still responsible for the deaths of thousands. Dracarys. To shout that singular command against the wind and then watch on helplessly and in awestruck horror as entire battalions went up in flames. To hear grown men crying and screaming. The nauseating stench of burning flesh. Those memories still visited to haunt him in his sleep—just last night they had tormented him despite falling asleep entangled with his other half—and Virys feared they would follow for the rest of his life.

All this sudden talk of warfare reminded him of rumors he had heard of their father, the King looking to deal with whispers of an uprising…was that what Rose had been implying earlier? That she knew of the impending battle? Virys knew there were only two ways that could go. Either the King would send in his soldiers to maintain presence and enforce his rule, or he would send in Virys…to completely obliterate anyone and anything who stood against the Targaryen hold on Westeros. When he first heard these rumors he hadn’t put too much thought or care into it, after all he was mostly numb to his duties by now. But since Visaera’s return there was now a panic gripping at his heart over the realization that there was a good chance he would be sent away from her to burn a town to the ground.

He waited as patiently as he could for Visaera to finish sharing his stories with the orphans she had come to help; but the entire time his gaze never left her, it just steadily lost its intensity as defeat flooded his earlier pride. It didn’t matter that he and Yena were the most fearsome dragon duo if he was still completely under their father’s rule. Virys had all the power with Yena at his side, but it meant nothing if he was just a pawn for the family. Who was he to stand up to their father and refuse to do his bidding? And at what cost? Would Visaera be taken from him again? If he were to get sent away now would he return to her bedroom empty of her and devoid of her belongings?

But what would happen if he refused? He’d withstood beatings before, physical pain did not scare him. And no one, not even the dragon keepers would be able to control Yena if they thought taking her from him would be sufficient punishment. So what would happen…? Would their father have him killed for treason? That honestly felt like the most realistic outcome. The rest of their family feared Virys, they would never risk exile or losing him in such a way that he could gain his own power against the throne. If the King could no longer control him then Virys would be killed…and the only way to control him was through Visaera.

Virys had two options to ensure Visaera remained in his life: do as he was commanded and remain with the family so as to at least receive visits with his other half. Or he could turn on them all. Their father and brothers were the only ones standing in his way from keeping Visaera close, and it wouldn’t take much to remove them…

His gaze wandered downward along with his darkening thoughts to watch his fingers fidgeting and pulling at loose threads fraying from the bandage around his hand. It had been a couple days now since he had injured it and the wound was beginning to itch as the new skin formed to close the cut together. it was still stiff, but didn’t quite hurt the same way it had before. afterall, he hadn’t lost his temper to such an extreme as to reopen the wound completely. Virys had been too preoccupied holding Visaera, touching Visaera, pleasing Visaera, tasting Visaera—he had been far too busy for violence. but that busy-ness was not without its own setbacks. Even though he had not re-harmed himself, he had still been very active in using his hand when he perhaps should have avoided it so as to truly let it rest. But this cut was such a small thing, it was but a papercut compared to injuries Virys had sustained before and so he did not respect it or think of it as anything more than an annoying hindrance. He could hear his sister’s voice in his head, warning him to take it easy so as to not turn something small into a much larger problem. And maybe imagining her voice was the reason he could not hear her when she appeared before him after all the children had been dismissed and dispersed.

He had spent so many years now hearing her voice and seeing her face—hallucinating her memory out of painful longing—that even though she was here before him it still took a moment before Virys returned to reality enough to process her voice in his ear and her touch on his skin.

As Virys’ eyes finally rose to see himself reflecting in Visaera’s, another idea pushed through the noise in his head. That maybe the solution wasn’t to kill off their family in order to secure Visaera in his life…when he could just take her away himself. Whisk her away to Dragonstone and dare anyone to even think about infiltrating their birth home. It would be so easy, especially as she had already set that idea in motion by suggesting she contact their Uncle to arrange a visit.

His trance was broken, his hands reaching to grab at his other half as though desperately needing to make up for the mere minutes they had been separated, ”Do you really believe everything you said?”
Virys did not doubt Visaera’s trust in him and his capabilities, he just wanted to hear it from her directly. She had sung his praises to all of the children of the orphanage, and he needed to hear more to flush all the memories of war she had pulled from the back of his mind.
”Nu—“

”Princess—“
Virys’ hold on his sister tightened as someone dared to ask for her attention. But as soon as he began to whip his head around to see who was interrupting them, Visaera’s hand landed on his chest over his racing heart to silence and still him before he could lash out at an innocent.

For the remainder of their time at the orphanage Virys did not let Visaera out of his sight and rarely was he not either attached to her hip or directly behind her. Whenever possible his hands were on her, whether to hold her close or as a means of self soothing when her focus was on another.

”Have you finished everything you came to do?”
It was a rare display of restraint and thoughtfulness by asking if she was done rather than blatantly whining about wanting to go, and he was well rewarded with a bright smile on his sister’s face as she replied that yes they could leave.

They of course had to make their rounds to say goodbye, Visaera did not seem to share his desire to simply vanish without making a display of it. But by the time they were back outside at the carriage it was Virys that held them back, after assisting his sister up the steps into her seat he instead of joining her turned to walk to the front to share a private word with their driver. When he did at last settle into the carriage and the door was shut behind him, Visaera was of course quick to question what he had been up to, but Virys just leaned in to answer and silence her with a kiss instead. A long, torturously overdue kiss that Virys had been craving throughout their entire trip outside of the Keep.

When the carriage eventually slowed to a final halt and the door opened it was immediately revealed that Virys had requested a detour on their way home: stopping instead at the dragon pits. He climbed out quickly, his excitement clearly contrasting how he had felt about accompanying Visaera for her charity work. As Virys turned back to Visaera there was a spark of life in his eyes that rarely surfaced these days. Not since they were kids did Virys ever show much passion for anything, but now he was with his other half and standing before his dragon’s lair. Visaera and Yena were the only ones in the entire world that mattered to him, and he now had the opportunity to have them together with him.

His hand reached out, waiting expectantly for Visaera to take so that he could help her step out of the carriage, ”Fly with me…”
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[feelsHASkilig]

"My Life"​

PRINCESS VISAERA TARGARYEN ⊰ THE LITTLE JEWEL

VISAERA (COMMON TONGUE) tab VISAERA (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

Visaera stared up at the large entrance to the Dragonpit with wide eyes. She didn’t know why it never occurred to her that her beloved other half would insist on a detour to this place. The moment she felt that different turn away from the Red Keep, it should have been the first place in mind. But the truth was that she hadn’t thought about this giant structure at the top of the Hill of Rhaenys in years. Not since her own dragon flew so freely across Highgarden and the rest of the Reach.

But it was completely different for Virys. Even before her three year absence, she knew better than anyone how much of a refuge the Dragonpit was for her brother. It was the only place where every single person—the dragonkeepers—treated him with the utmost respect and where he could successfully escape from the rest of their family. Of course she should have known that the first place he would take her at the first opportunity away from the Red Keep was here.

As her eyes fell to his extended hand, Visaera’s heart raced at the thought of flying with him. Obviously, she had no issue with flying on dragonback. In Highgarden she wouldn’t go a week without calling Moonfyre back to take her to the skies. But her excitement was doused in icy cold water at the implications that came with flying with Virys.

It also meant flying with Yena.

As much as she was ready to sing the praises of the legendary, once mythical, dragon from the days of Old Valyria, Visaera was also terrified of the she-dragon. For as long as she could remember, Visaera rarely recalled any “happy” memories around Virys’ dragon. It wasn’t that Yena was violent towards her. She never attacked her or tried to kill her with her dragonfire. Her fear came from the possessiveness Yena felt toward Virys. Even as a child, she saw the threat in the old dragon’s eyes. She knew from the stare alone that one wrong move on her part meant her cruel and fiery end.

So what did that mean now for Visaera after having been apart from Virys for three long, tragic years? While, yes, she will constantly argue that their separation was not her doing—that she had absolutely no say in being shipped off to Highgarden—there was no denying that all these years Virys thought differently. He blamed her for leaving him, even if he was very aware that their father was entirely at fault. She knew better than anyone that he was so ready to put all the blame on her for his pain. Upon her return, he didn’t even try to hide the small ounce of hatred he held for her before she stripped it away from him that first night together. But that had been days ago and not once since then had he returned to his sanctuary to let his dragon know that he no longer hated her.

“Brother…” Her voice quivered with apprehension. She looked past him as a small handful of the dragonkeepers approached slowly. “I….”

“My Prince,” said one of the dragonkeepers, a burly man with dark skin that made the ash he was coated in look white. She didn’t recognize this man, but then again, to be a dragonkeeper was a dangerous—but honorable—job. There was always a likelihood of new faces to replace those that made even the tiniest wrong step around the dragons.

Virys’ exasperated sigh brought her attention back to him just in time to watch him hold his position for an extra tense second before he dropped his hand to acknowledge the dragonkeepers behind him. While he talked to them and instructed them to prepare their dragons for riding, Visaera remained at the top of the open carriage. Would it be too late to change his mind? Could she find some reasonable excuse to get out of this moment he was so excited for?

She had to try…right?

“Virys, I’m not at all prepared to go riding. Especially not in this dress.” Even as the words spilled out of her mouth, she knew she was being silly. What were the odds he knew about the times she flew across Highgarden in far more delicate—and far less material—dresses?

When he turned back to face her, she didn’t even try to hide her scared gulp. She knew she was being ridiculous. As she bit down on her lower lip, she took a hesitant step back into the carriage to take a seat.

Her mind was racing to try and either find a better excuse or back up the one she already put out there. But as he stared at her, his eyes dimming the longer she said nothing, she knew she had failed him. It was one simple request. After everything he did for her the past few days, she was due to repay him at least once.

Suddenly, an all too familiar high pitched whistle rang outside the carriage. Visaera’s head immediately shot up and she looked past her brother once more. The number of dragonkeepers doubled from the last time she saw them, but it was only the newer half that stood closer to the carriage that kept their eyes to the sky. Between the twins, she was the only one that knew better what that meant.

She once more stood at the top of the open carriage, her hands pressed against either side of the entrance as she too looked up to the skies. There was a heavy silence after the female dragonkeeper dropped the ornate horn to her side and tightened her grip on the staff in her other hand. The silence stretched for so long even Visaera grew more nervous the longer she waited for the response she anticipated.

Then, it came.

First, it was the rumbling roar. A deep, but rich sound with an almost melodic vibrato at the end. Then it was the sound of wings, slow—and slightly lazy—as they flapped against the air.

Then, for the briefest of moments, there was silence again. But before anyone could stir from the tension, a shadow swept across the vast opening above them all and soon enough, everyone was looking up to the skies for the incoming dragon.

Even though she had been apprehensive and terrified at first at the thought of flying, the moment Moonfyre landed in front of them, Visaera felt nothing but relief. The very sight of her dragon always calmed her. And she could tell from the moment her loyal beast found her, he felt the same. After all, King’s Landing was no longer familiar to him after three years in Highgarden. He surely found solace at the sight of his rider.

“Of course Moonfyre would refuse to return to the Dragonpit,” she couldn’t help commenting as she finally climbed out of the carriage. She moved to stand beside her brother, but never once took her eyes off of her beautiful beast.

“Is this your first time seeing him since we arrived?” she asked Virys, finally turning away from her dragon to look up at her brother. “He was barely big enough to ride when we were last in King’s Landing.”

She watched as the dragonkeepers took careful steps closer to Moonfyre. Some stayed back to command him in High Valyrian while the others used their staffs to direct him away from the opening to the Dragonpit. Moonfyre’s low growl rumbled through the area and his eyes narrowed into slits, but he obeyed. He took two giant lazy steps closer to the nearest wall then immediately turned away from the dragonkeepers to find her. She quickly excused herself from Virys’ side to approach.

Unlike the dragonkeepers, Visaera’s commands were often gentle in tone. She didn’t need to be too demanding for her dragon to obey her. Of course she acknowledges that he is not the perfect dragon. After all, a dragon is not a slave. But the bond Visaera shares with Moonfyre is one that she could argue is far stronger than the other dragonriders in her family.

Save, of course, for her own twin and his dragon.

Before she heard her, Visaera tensed against Moonfyre’s scales. Three years and she was still so hyper aware of her presence. Her eyes widened as she stepped closer to her dragon, resting her weight against him as she waited with bated breath for Yena to join them. She was practically paralyzed from anxiety, reminded of why she thought this visit a bad idea in the first place.

Behind her, she could hear the dragonkeepers frantically running about, but trying to stay as calm as possible against the Gray Wraith. She still couldn’t get herself to turn around and watch her brother’s dragon’s arrival. And because of that, she swore that Yena herself could sense her fear.

There was a part of her that was tempted to just jump onto Moonfyre and run. To put as much distance as possible between herself and the ancient dragon before her giant wings could catch up to them.

“Calm! Yena, calm! Obey!” The commands were constant and only fueled Visaera’s anxieties more. But what really skyrocketed her fears was the slow, almost purposeful footfalls that nearly shook the entire area. It only made her step even closer to her dragon, practically hiding behind his wing.

Then, suddenly, Virys’ voice cut through the chaos as he called for her. But even though she wanted so badly to respond to his call, fear continued to overpower her. She cowered deeper into Moonfyre’s wing. It was at that moment that the large beast became in-tuned to her feelings. His growls vibrated against her side and suddenly she was consumed in shadow as he lowered his long neck in a defending pose.

The dragons growled at each other for what felt like ages and Visaera nearly burst into tears at the thought that any moment her brother’s dragon would be the end of both of them. There was no denying Moonfyre’s exponential growth in the last three years. But she would have to be an absolute fool if she thought that her dragon had any chance against the oldest dragon in all the realm.

Visaera was almost certain—without even chancing the briefest glance at her—that Yena hated her. ​

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[JINFINITE]

"My Heart..."​

PRINCE VIRYS TARGARYEN ⊰ THE SLIGHTED DRAGON

VIRYS (COMMON TONGUE) tab VIRYS (HIGH VALYRIAN) tab OTHERS​

Virys was a massive, living, breathing, walking contradiction. And it was most apparent when it came to all things involving his other half. He was so incredibly tuned in to absolutely everything about Visaera. He knew her inside out and backwards. He could predict her actions and even read her mind. But his hyperfixation on her often left him blind to deviations from their normal. Such as how unaware he remained regarding Visaera’s discomfort upon arriving at the Dragon Pit and even more so as Yena approached.

Meanwhile Virys himself was content and finally at peace after days of feeling dragged around following Visaera everywhere he didn’t want to go. Here he was with his dragon and his beloved twin, the only two beings in life that not only mattered to him but cared for him—loved him. Virys felt relief at last as his accumulated stress and general rage began to dissipate with each booming step of Yena’s until she came to a stop.

The dragon keepers’ wariness and caution also flew over his head and he boldly strode over until he stood just before Yena. He said nothing to her, he didn’t need to. His relationship with Yena The Gray Wraith ran much deeper than any other dragon rider pairing and it was glaringly obvious the second anyone laid eyes on the two of them together. The difference in them versus other bonded pairings was that while other riders had earned their dragon’s respect in some manner, in Virys’ case Yena had chosen him when he was just a tiny child long before he had proven himself in any manner. She had claimed him. He belonged to her, but not in a materialistic sense or one of ownership like that of a master and their servant. Rather it was more like a maternal one—she had transcended the differences between their species and had adopted him as her own: he was a baby dragon trapped in human form. And he was hers and she always made sure that any and everyone knew that.

Yena emitted a soft yet deep rumble, accompanied by what would have been endearing chirps that had she been small enough would have resembled a cat calling for her kitten. All the while she was lowering her head completely until her chin was flat on the ground. It gave off a sense of submission and vulnerability, but only a fool would have thought she let her guard down. While yes she had dropped down to Virys’ level, her tail still swished warningly behind her, and her eyes shifted between the dragon keepers surrounding them to then staring down the much smaller dragon and rider combo off to the side.

Virys’ large hand was immediately dwarfed when he reached out to touch Yena’s scales. She made even the tallest Targaryen look so small beside her, but being next to her was the only time that Virys didn’t feel small. He was able to stand tall and straight to his full height and a calmness had washed over him as the heat she gave off lulled him back into a state of safety and security after feeling so on edge for days.

As Yena’s lips curled up with a soft snarl, she bared teeth so long they rivaled the height of a full grown man. There were even stains of her victims along her gum lines and what looked like fresh blood along the edge of her mouth indicating she must have just fed before their arrival. But still Virys remained unphased, or at least unaffected by his dragon mother. But when, after sharing some words of High Valyrian, she still had not relaxed her features, Virys followed her gaze to see Visaera still clearly avoiding looking their way.

He called out to her, but still nothing. Both dragons were growling as Virys left Yena with a decisive swiftness, approaching Moonfyre with clearly no sense of regard to his own self preservation. Everyone else, both dragon riders and keepers alike, knew to tread carefully around another’s dragon that they have not forged a bond with. But even as a small child, Virys seemed completely oblivious to the dangers he put himself in by fearlessly approaching other dragons. But it was because he knew he could. He knew he would be safe and no one could harm him. He had Yena behind him and while another dragon might screech, growl, or puff up to appear larger and more threatening, in the end none of them would dare stand up against Yena of their own free will. And so Virys had grown up walking freely through the dragon pits where others older and more experienced than him had perished. Yena was his sole sense of confidence. Without her he was weak. Without her he was nothing. Without her he wholeheartedly believed he would have been killed at the hands of his own family long ago. But everyone was scared of Yena. And that fear was what Virys believed to be his only source of power.

”My sister…why are you..?” There was a softness to his voice filled with genuine concern, but layers below his fragile tranquility was a level of hurt as Virys reached out for her shoulder to turn her towards him. What was she doing? Was she trying to hide? Why was she not as happy as he was? Did she not want to be here? But she had been so pleased to see her Moonfyre. And he had thought she would be happy to be anywhere with him—after all that was how it was for him. And were they not the same? They were two halves to a whole. She was him and he was her. They were one.

But just as Visaera’s face came into view, Virys’ attention was instead pulled away as Yena’s growls deepened. Virys knew that low pitch well, she felt threatened—more specifically she felt that he was threatened. Looking back over his shoulder he found his dragon hunching over to make herself appear impossibly large. Her tail which had previously been swishing as a warning was now flailing in irritation. But she was turned away from the twins and had her full attention on the dragon keepers still posted around them.
”Leave us!!”

Virys made no effort at calling off his dragon. If one of the keepers was foolish enough to stand in her way then they deserved to die. They did not need such stupidity to tend to the pits and be trusted with their prized dragons. But still some of the keepers repeated commands in High Valyrian like a mantra hoping to calm Yena.

Inititally Virys remained completely emotionless. His hand was still resting on Visaera’s shoulder but his grip was so careful and relaxed. Because his sister was a precious gem to be handled with care and grace. But when Yena’s roar held a slight screech tone to it he knew what was about to happen, and while he didn’t particularly care for the dragon keepers themselves, he didn’t want to experience what he knew came next, ”STOP!! Yena!!”

But he had intervened much too late to stand a chance at controlling his dragon. He should have recognized the signs earlier on. She had been agitated from the moment she approached, borderline stressed even. All because he had been. The Gray Wraith was the one mirror of his reflection that he had not destroyed during Visaera’s absence. She absorbed his every emotion and amplified it more than one hundred times over. She would not rest until her child felt peace—but had Virys not been so consumed by his other half, then he could have stepped in before things got out of hand.

Instead he watched on in mild horror as dragonfire rushed from her open mouth and fully engulfed two keepers who had not retreated at Virys’ warning of a command. Their screams were short lived, but the sounds, sight and smell brought Virys’ mind back to the battlefields he had grown to fear. Even despite having fallen from Yena in midair, he never feared for himself whenever he was sent to war. It was this that he feared. This complete obliteration. The sickening sensation of turning life into pitch black ashes in seconds and knowing that it was his doing. Because while on the surface Virys maintained an appearance as tough as dragonglass and his violent tendencies only further backed that persona, beneath it all was just a tiny gentle child who wouldn’t hurt a fly. He was scared of the great big world and just yearned to be loved.

The world he knew and felt safe in was small, very small. So small in fact that his hand which had previously rested upon it—upon her—lost contact and slid off her shoulder as he began to tremble in the wake of Yena’s destruction. He hadn’t been mentally prepared for this. At least had it been a real battle he could have braced himself, and he would have had the benefit of flying so high and so fast that he would not process the number of deaths until much later. But being on the ground and witnessing it firsthand was a new experience for Virys and one he very much so had not been ready for.

He watched on as Yena proceeded to place herself between the twins and the piles of ash where the keepers once stood. But while she let out a warning roar to anyone who would dare approach, Virys felt his knees slowly give out until he was kneeling in the dirt with his hands clamped over his ears. The keepers’ deaths had been swift, but their screams still haunted him all the same. His eyes were locked ahead of him, staring through his dragon to where he knew the remains lay, his heart racing while his breaths were short and shallow.

This was what he had turned into as a result of being sent into wars without having his sister waiting at home to heal his heart. This was what was hidden beneath all the sex and violence that he had grown such a reputation for. This was what their father had created…a killing machine with a time bomb on a short fuse. Virys would not be able to handle many more battles at this rate, not until he found some peace with himself over all the deaths he was responsible for. It was one thing to be a guard or even a knight and have a handful or two of deaths under their belt…but to have killed hundreds if not thousands of men all before turning eighteen years of age—what was left of Virys’ heart was shattered.

The other dragon keepers had all retreated by now. And while Yena had obviously calmed down, she was still on alert and ready to handle the next perceived threat to her child.

Amidst the screams still ringing in his ears, Virys could have sworn he heard Visaera’s soft voice suggesting they leave, but her’s wasn’t the only voice he was hearing and his hands just pressed harder against his head, his fingers tangled into his silver blonde hair as he attempted to block out the rest of the world.
“I don't want to go back…” However the fear and decisiveness in his voice clearly indicated he was referring to something deeper than simply returning to the Keep. Where he truly didn’t want to return to was the battlefield, where he would be surrounded once more by men scorched to ash by dragonfire, and the unfortunate ones who didn’t perish immediately and were left screaming in agony. The rumors of the rising threat of war had already been stealing his nights by cursing him with nightmares. But before that would even come to light he would first have to handle the cleaning of this mess he had just found himself thrust into. What would their father the King say when he learned of what just happened? Would he believe that Yena had acted on her own? That she had simply been protecting him? Would he blame Virys for being unable to control his dragon? Or would he hold Virys responsible and believe he had attacked the keepers himself? Would he blame Virys regardless of what truth he was told or believed?

He still heard the screams. Still smelled the burning of flesh. And the combination of iron and bile overwhelmed his taste buds. But Virys’ eyes saw his worried reflection kneeling down before him. He saw Visaera’s lips move but it wasn’t until he managed to release his hands from over his ears that he was able to catch anything she was saying.

His heart was still pounding heavily in his chest as the momentary panic that Yena’s destruction had caused vacated his body, ”—we could leave. Right now. We have each other…and our dragons. No one would be able to stop us.”

But while Virys was rushed and desperate in his plea, Visaera remained strategic in her response, she did not wait too long so as to not give away that she was scared or hesitating. But nor did she make any mention how unrealistic it was for them to simply just leave. She didn't dare touch the subject of reminding Virys that she had a duty and responsibility now. They were not kids anymore, they couldn't just go around doing as they liked, but rather she turned the cards back around to their uncle by saying how she wanted to give him time to prepare to receive them and that they would go soon.

It was clear in Virys’ short huff of an exhale that he didn't care for her reasoning, but that as he visibly relaxed he had accepted it nonetheless and was slowly leaving his blood stained memories and returning to her. Because Visaera knew how to speak to her brother—her other half. While his own High Valyrian could control The Gray Wraith, Visaera’s held power over The Slighted Dragon Prince and she knew exactly what to say. She knew what to not mention, what direction to approach subjects, she knew how to take his side and make him feel seen without feeding into his delusions.

The secret to Visaera’s success came from the pronouns she used. “We”, “us”, “our”. Because even though she was visibly unnerved as well from the scene they had just witnessed, as long as “they” were scared it was okay. As long as what was happening was happening to “them”, then Virys could handle it. But had he been alone in this—had she separated them by distinguishing their differences with words like “you” and “I”, he likely would not have come back around so easily.

But just as Visaera knew how to calm him, their family—particularly their eldest brothers—knew how to rile him up.

It was Yena’s roar that first alerted Virys that they were no longer alone. The second came from a roar response that was much too deep to have belonged to Moonfyre and Virys’ eyes practically ignited as they pulled away from the calm and safety of Visaera’s gaze to instead search the skies. He knew that dragon’s voice—he knew all the dragons…he was The Dragon Prince after all. He got to his feet immediately when it was clear that the other dragon was making a downward descent and not simply flying over.

While normally Virys was fairly collected around Daeron and could hold his own, today in their half brother’s approach he seemed to almost shrink; even with Yena in the immediate vicinity. He knew he was safe with her here, Daeron would not lift a finger against him so long as she was here, but even that assurance wasn’t enough to mask the years of abuse he’d endured from the second eldest Targaryen prince. And then considering how out of control he felt over Yena’s outburst…Virys’ hands formed into silent trembling fists at his side through his combined fear and anger.

“Dare I ask what happened here?” Daeron was smirking. As though he was well aware of the potential consequences to the scene he had just walked into. He knew the power he had over the youngest prince in this situation. Virys was taller and more skilled with a sword, he was a stronger dragonrider, and he had bonded with the oldest and strongest dragon. But what Daeron lacked in height compared to Virys he made up for in bulk. His weight and muscle mass had almost always allowed him to overpower the youngest prince. He also held hierarchy over his half siblings. If it was his word versus Virys’, he would win everytime. So while technically Virys knew he had nothing to fear here outside the pits with Yena at his side, she could not return with him to ensure his safety in the Keep.

He had withstood countless beatings from Daeron, and his half brother would always spread a lie around it. He would say they had been sparring, or he had broken up a fight Virys had with someone else. So what was there to protect him if he went back to the Keep just to find Daeron waiting in the shadows?

But a growl from Yena had Daeron’s smug expression faltering and Virys felt the blip of strength he had well up inside in that moment. There was no telling what would happen once news of this whole event reached their father the King, but at least for right now Virys still had the upper hand. He visibly grew taller as his posture straightened and he positioned himself more between his two siblings. His hands had stilled and there was an icy element to his fiery gaze. Virys had replaced his fear with a dangerous power knowing that even if the dragonkeepers’ deaths had been an accident, he was more than capable of the next round of dragonfire being very much intentional.

The dragonkeepers were also slowly slinking out of hiding now to tend to Daeron’s dragon. Virys couldn’t see them as his eyes hadn’t left Daeron, but he could hear them once again trying to calm Yena so that they could pass by safely. Even as Yena’s voice rose, Virys remained still. He just watched Daeron as though silently threatening his half brother, because every single individual there knew that all it would take was a single word from Virys and his dragon would set everything ablaze.

Although that wasn’t always the case. Three years ago he had little to no control over Yena. He had been so completely distraught over losing Visaera that his mother dragon had blatantly ignored him and his chaotic energy. She had done so out of love, to protect him. She would do anything to protect him. And she screeched in protest as the dragonkeepers grew closer.

The tension was so high that Virys could feel the adrenaline buzzing in his body. The dragonkeepers were trying to get past Yena to bring Daeron’s dragon into the pits, Daeron was trying to stand strong despite the impending danger, Visaera was pressed close to Virys, her own dragon knowing well enough to not get involved, while Yena openly warned that anyone who got any closer to her child would burn.

It wasn’t until the last minute that Virys’ voice finally rang out clearly, his tone and pronunciation flawless as he commanded Yena to stand down. And it was now that a smirk instead flashed across his own face watching the color return to Daeron’s cheeks. He knew this wouldn’t go over well for him later, but here at the dragon pits he held all the power and it felt like such a rush to use.

Virys had never really lusted after the throne itself the way his brothers, the rightful heirs did. But that didn’t mean he didn’t wish for power. He had been the lowest on the pole for just about his entire life, even back in Dragonstone, Visaera’s education had been prioritized while he was left to run wild and free. And while there was no denying that Yena had granted him that power, it was circumstantial and situational. He only held power when he was with her. Otherwise he was nothing. He had nothing.

No—he had nothing. Previously. Past tense.

But now he had Visaera. Now he had something to protect, and that was the defining difference in the Virys of the past three years versus the Virys of today. The Virys of the past was violent and reckless beyond belief, but having Visaera behind him now gave him cause to be cautious and defensive…which arguably made him all the more dangerous to upset.

With Virys’ hold over Yena, the dragonkeepers were able to finally approach Daeron’s dragon, and Virys finally broke eye contact with his half brother and even disrespectfully turned his back on the man as he spoke, ”You can go now, brother.”​

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