#ft. @universeofmuses vizz and daemon story!!!

[caelmewedd]

Aevon's Diary Card

[caelmewedd]

Daemon breathed a sigh of relief that finally, after such a long time of constant fighting and misunderstanding, he would finally spend time with his brother, his beloved older brother, whom he had always followed like a little duckling in his youth. At the very thought, his heart fluttered as if some unexplained powerful force had struck him suddenly and unexpectedly like lightning on a stormy night. At last he could begin to feel loved and noticed by Viserys again. He had been vying for his attention for so long, and finally the gods (or rather, a kind soul in the form of Aevon) began to favor him and he was able to get close to his brother again. This time for good. “I'm glad that we will be able to do something together, Viserys. I thought that the blackness of the dragon glass would perfectly reflect the depth of Balerion's personality. It's imperative that we visit the stonemasons, or maybe we can first make an outline of the design of this figurine ourselves?” Daemon gave his brother another suggestion, which was just as good as the first one. Aevon also smiled as she watched the two brothers begin to get along. She felt they both needed it, especially since she already knew that Daemon often felt rejected and misunderstood, but never let on how bad it was for him. Her heart ached at the thought that even though Daemon harbored chaos and fire, from the first moment since she met him, she felt that he was a good person. She felt that Daemon loved his brother very much, even if the latter did not always reciprocate his love as he expected. Fortunately, now they had a chance to make it all right. She could see in Daemon's eyes that he wanted this very much. “Think about it some more, and in the evening we can work on a sketch of the figurine and we'll choose what you like best.” Daemon added with a bright smile, himself arranging in his head the outline of a figure sketch for Viserys.

“I'm really very pleased, Your Grace. I hope Aevon didn't make a fuss here.” Aramil replied with a grateful smile as he shook the king's outstretched hand. He immediately sensed a trace of his daughter's magic. He knew what she had healed. He also felt a trace of another magic in the air, similar to Aevon's, except that this one emanated from the purple dragon that lay at the feet of its mistress. He himself was somehow curious about Nevermore's nature, but most of all why she had chosen his daughter. Despite his vast knowledge of the various magical creatures that existed in this world, but he knew nothing about dragons. In their land, no one had seen dragons and no one knew how to deal with one. He hoped that Daemon and the king might be able to help him and Aevon, especially Aevon, who sometimes seemed to forget that she had a dragon in her care, not a cat or a dog. He had a fear that such a lack of vigilance on his daughter's part might sooner or later turn against her. He wanted to hope that this would not happen. “I believe that it is certainly as you say, Your Grace, but once again I warn you, Aevon also has a lot of spirit. She can be fierce like our big cats. Compared to them, Nevermore seems pretty harmless. That's probably the only reason I agreed to let her try, just because she's not like other dragons.” The male mage said, gazing at Nevermore. Daemon sighed softly, then he took an empty cup from the table and a jug half-filled with sweet pink Dornish wine. He filled the cup and handed it to Aramil. “I understand that you are afraid, but I will do everything I can to help Aevon. It will be more of a pleasure than a trouble for me.” Daemon replied after which he filled a cup for himself and his brother. He should have chided Viserys for being the one who does little as a host. Their grandmother, Alyssane, would long ago have severely scolded him for his lack of good manners. A good host should offer guests a humble treat.

“And where do we start, Daemon?” Aevon asked, wondering what her training as a dragon rider would look like. Where will they start? How will they work on Nevermore? She began to wonder how Daemon would teach Rhaenyra to ride a dragon. Will it be entertaining? She had so many questions. For the time being, she couldn't answer any of the questions that were bothering her, and decided to drown out her thoughts with another slice of lemon cake, which she took from a silver tray lying on the table. “And will…this Rhaenyra…also be able to help? Won't she find Nevermore strange? Does she also like her? Will she like me, too?” She asked, swallowing hard for a bite of lemon cake. Daemon smiled more, although he himself did not know why he was still smiling. He usually did it very rarely and only towards Rhaenyra and occasionally towards other family members. With Aevon, he felt like smiling all the time. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop. “She will be delighted to meet you and your Nevermore. I'm sure she'll answer all your questions and ask a hundred of her own in return.” Daemon replied, treating himself to a piece of lemon cake. “Just remember, be good.” Aramil pointed out, knowing what his sometimes defiant daughter was capable of.

“Okay, dad.” Aevon replied, then looked at Nevermore, who looked at her and casually sniffed the hand in which Aevon held an over-eaten piece of lemon cake. The girl gently stroked the scales on the dragon's head and, in the process, combed the pink and purple feathers growing from her head like a mane. Nevermore purred loudly from the pleasure that came from the tender caress. The she-dragon, however, did not forget the piece of overbaked lemon cake held by her mistress. Gently, very gently she took the delicious sweet treat into her mouth, which was met with astonishment by those present in the room. Daemon blinked in amazement, as he had never encountered a dragon that ate fruit…and cakes. How is it possible for any dragon to eat cakes? “Maybe first I'll tell you a little about the dragons that belong to my House. I'll tell you about how we take care of our dragons. After which you will tell me more about your dragon and we will get to how best to care for Nevermore. She may require a different kind of care than my Caraxes, for example…With Viserys, you can learn from the books. As you can see, my brother here seems to have half of our castle library. You agree, don't you, brother?” Daemon replied, hoping that his brother really wanted to help them.

“But I have to admit that Nevermore is the most…unique dragon I've ever seen.” Daemon muttered and looked more carefully at Nevermore. She, too, began to stare at Daemon intensely and with concentration, as if trying to penetrate the Rogue Prince's innermost thoughts. Nevermore's large, sparkling eyes were very sharp and shining, and for a moment Daemon had the impression that millions of twinkling stars could be seen in them. “If you're sure, my Prince, that you can do it, I think you'll have a lot of fun with Aevon at the same time.” Aramil replied, hoping that his daughter's dragon training would go well and that this kingdom would not stand on its head during the process. He also hoped that Aevon did not intend to feed his dragon only cakes. Actually, dragons should not eat cakes at all. When eating fruit, for a dragon to eat cakes is an abnormality.

“What about you and your family? Do you have a place to stay?” Daemon asked, wondering how his guests planned their stay in King's Landing. Not only did he want to be able to get to know their daughter and her dragon better, but he was also very curious about these people. He wanted to find out where they came from, what their culture was like and what their land was like. He had so many questions and also wanted to satisfy his curiosity. Besides, he didn't want there to be outbreaks of panic in the city at the sight of a dragon strolling through the streets. Although the residents of King's Landing were mostly used to the sight of dragons flying over the city, he didn't know how smallfolks would receive one walking freely, even if that dragon was the gentlest in the world.

“We stayed in the upper part of the city. In such a nice old townhouse.” Aevon replied before her father had time to answer anything. “That's true, but I suspect Nevermore will quickly cause a big sensation.” Aramil added, knowing it wouldn't be easy here with a dragon living with them in a rented apartment. “Oh, I almost forgot. I got…We got a certain offer from the king. In exchange for my help with the cure, we got an offer to work and stay here in the castle.” Aevon interjected, though at the mention that the king's health had been out of order until recently, Daemon again felt a tender string twitch in his heart and a certain anxiety resurface in his mind. “Besides, I have a bill to settle here with a certain Maester. You won't believe it, Dad, when I tell you how big an imbecile and scoundrel he must be. I'm not going to leave here without telling him what I think of him and his 'treatment' methods, if his actions could be called treatment.”

“I suspect you will give him a concrete rebuke, darling. But I hope you didn't decide for me in this matter. We agreed that we wouldn't draw attention to ourselves, especially since here people may not be favorable to us for certain reasons.” Aramil replied, suspecting that the Maester (whoever he was) who had messed with his daughter might very quickly become acquainted with his daughter's fiery temperament. Daemon, who listened to what his guests were saying, didn't understand much, but still wished they could have stayed around, as he also hoped to find out what was going on around his brother and what Aevon had to heal in general. Would his brother tell him once they were alone. They were brothers, they could tell each other anything. Or at least Daemon wanted to be able to believe that they could.

“Of course not. I said I wouldn't declare on your behalf.” Aevon replied, quoting word for word what she had answered to the king when he offered her and her family a job and a stay at the royal court. As far as she was concerned, she would have gladly stayed longer at the castle, not only because of the dragon training, but she also wanted to keep an eye on the king and his wellness. It was better to keep her hand on the pulse, especially if the treatment was by magic. Aevon knew full well that any magic, leaves traces and she preferred to keep an eye on Viserys, at least for the next few days, for her own peace of mind. “I don't know that is good idea, Aevon…It's an interesting proposition, but I don't know if living in a castle is a good idea. Especially with your temperament and the dragon. Although I suspect that a dragon in the city is an equally not very good idea.” Aramil replied, wondering what he should think about all this. Although he once happened to take a jobs from Ofieri nobility and the reigning king, he didn't know if he wanted to stay in the royal court for long. The royal courts were full of intrigue, politics and general problematicness that any self-respecting mage should shy away from, and his daughter and her dragon had no bearing on his judgment on the matter. He simply hated politics and preferred not to meddle in any matters concerning the mighty.

“As for me, I'm happy to give you hospitality, and Nevermore can have a nice place in the Dragon Pit.” Daemon said, then took a small sip of wine from his cup. Aevon's brow lifted slightly as she tried to understand what exactly the Dragon Pit could be, though she suspected it was something like a stable for dragons. However, she didn't know how Nevermore would respond to the idea. She did not, after all, like dark, wet and musty caves and dungeons. Aevon couldn't imagine that a dragon as beautiful and elegant as hers could live in some musty dungeon. That was absolutely out of the question. “This probably won't please Nevermore. She will escape you again like she did today, Daemon.” Aevon replied, fearing how sad and unhappy Nevermore would be in confinement.

“I have to think it all over, especially since we didn't arrive long ago.” Aramil replied, still feeling heavy and tired after a very, very long and tiresome trip. "Perhaps we could stay, for a few days, if, Aevon has indeed cured you of something, Your Grace. I'd just have to go into town to get my wife, son and our things…” The male mage sighed softly and savored a sip of Dornish wine.

Daemon hoped that his guests would want to stay here longer. At least something interesting would be going on in the Keep.

The little girl, Aevon shyly entered a large chamber, where an intricately crafted model of Old Valyria stood on a huge table, and elaborate dragon figurines stood next to a carved city. She carefully picked up one of them and looked at it in awe. Whoever crafted such wonders certainly had great talent. Feeling an urge to play growing in her, she began to play with the figurine she was holding, imagining that she and her good dragon were forced to defend the city from evil dragons. She played until King Viserys came along. She wasn't afraid of him, as he looked very friendly, but she watched him with curiosity. Was he the one who was doing all these wonderful things?

"Uhmm…Hello, Your Grace…Did you create this city and these dragons?" She asked quietly, carefully putting the figurines down on the table. She didn't want to do anything wrong, fortunately she hadn't broken anything, but she hoped the man wouldn't throw her out of here in a very unpleasant way.

After all, she hadn't done anything wrong. She just wanted to play.

Viserys pet project had become a full blown hobby, what started as a history project to learn about the greatest city ever built in the world had now become the elaborate stone model on the grand table in his lavish bedchambers, it had grown so that he had enlisted the best stone workers to carve the models, the buildings, the dragons, everything to the specifications he supplied them from his readings of the ancient texts.

To the king it was a historical recreation of a city the world would never see again, though to a small child he supposed it would be an elaborate playhouse for a doll. He was returning to his chambers after a council meeting, he had slated the day to be spent with his hobby after the meeting. Though when he got there he found a child in his quarters playing with the model, he stopped for a moment and just watched the little girl play. He knew that eventually he would be a grandsire and knew that eventually his own grandchildren would be here doing the same thing, however he didnt know this child.

The king smiled at the child when she asked her question, he could tell that there was some worry about her, "No I did not, but I commissioned them to be made." he answered her truthfully, he wasnt shy to admit that the detail of the stone in the model was beyond his skill. "Tell me child, who are you?" he asked her curiously wondering who this child was and who was she a child of.

[caelmewedd]

Daemon couldn't believe it, his brother was finally inviting him to his evenings. He wanted to share his passion for the history of their ancestors, how in the old days Viserys would talk to him, tell him about the ancient times over pink Dornish wine and maybe some small delicacies. For the first time since he could remember, his brother simply wanted him to be close to him. Just imagining the next time in the company of not only his king, but most of all his brother, made him smile and hope that he would take his rightful place in his brother's heart. "The wine will be nice, brother, but don't forget the lemon cakes. Lots of them." Daemon smiled playfully, knowing how much Viserys loved baking, just like him, which reminded him of how as a child they would sneak into the kitchen in the evenings and smuggle delicacies into their chambers. "And as for your figure collection, I was thinking of adding a Balerion figure, made of Dragonglass. Would you like one?" Daemon asked, wanting to add a more personal touch to Viserys' work.

Those really were wonderful days, which he hoped would come back to this castle. From the excess of joy, Daemon almost forgot about Aevon still hanging around his neck and her dragon nuzzling his chest. He gently put the girl down, then Nevermore also moved away from him and immediately turned to her owner and began to purr, asking for caresses. Aevon couldn't refuse her and immediately began to scratch the sensitive spot on her belly and under her wings. Nevermore narrowed her eyes, opened her wings slightly and purred loudly with pleasure. "They are strongly bonded, do you think brother?" Daemon wondered aloud what the secret was in the case of this girl and her dragon. It was always believed that only Targaryens and their blood could tame and ride dragons. Aevon did not have the features of descendants of Old Valyria, nor did she know that ancient language, and yet she managed to bond with the dragon. She spoke Common and the dragon understood and listened to her. It was wonderful yet mysterious, Daemon was more than willing to delve into the matter.

"I will certainly do everything I can to help Aevon, brother. Oh, where are my manners, brother, I present to you Aramil, this is Aevon's father and a mage healer. He and his family came from across the Seven Seas." Daemon corrected himself and formally introduced his guest to Viserys. Aramil nodded slightly in respectful greeting. He was not unfamiliar with the company of high lords and nobles and knew how to behave in the company of a crowned head, although it had been quite some time since he had been to the royal court. He knew that Aevon was too lively in such interesting places as the Red Keep, but he was afraid that her excessive energy and liveliness, and above all her directness, might not be to the liking of many stiff lords and especially ladies. Yes, Aevon was having fun and continued to do so, but he hoped that she and her dragon wouldn't get into any trouble here.

"It's a great honor and pleasure to meet you, Your Grace." Aramil replied, then began to glance at his daughter, who took a bowl of fruit from the table and began to treat Nevermore, who ate the delicacies with gusto. In his opinion, it was nice that the dragon that chose his daughter didn't require the daily killing of gods knows how many sheep or other game. A deep and prolonged sigh escaped his lips. He wanted his daughter to fulfill her path as a dragon rider, but he hoped that he himself wouldn't fall into madness, supporting her on the way to that goal. Now all he had left was to rely on Prince Daemon's help and that he would do everything to help his daughter. And that she was not in any danger.

"I am glad that Aevon can count on such competent help, but will your brother be able to handle such a volcano of energy and curiosity as Aevon, Your Grace. Sometimes she is difficult to handle." Aramil pointed out, trying to look at both the interlocutors and Aevon, who was treating Nevermore to a ripe, juicy pomegranate. The she-dragon gently took the fruit from her mistress's hand and enjoyed the feast. Daemon paid special attention to this, realizing how much Nevermore was different from the dragons he knew.

"I will. My niece was the same as Aevon. Your daughter is bursting with life energy and curiosity about the world. That's all." Daemon replied, guessing how much concern drives not only the mage, but above all the father. Viserys was the same for Rhaenyra, always, regardless of the situation and circumstances. He himself would rather go into Vhagar's flames than let her be hurt. Daemon could say a lot about his brother, but that he was a caring and loving father to Rhaenyra could not be denied. Too bad only for her. Daemon sat next to his brother, however, at a distance, and ordered his guest to do the same. Aramil relaxed a bit, but not completely, and Aevon, sensing his preoccupation, approached him when she finished feeding the dragon. Nevermore herself ate the leftovers left in the bowl. She also sat down between her father and Daemon, Nevermore, now full and well scrunched up lay comfortably on the ground at the girl's feet. A fed and pampered dragon is a happy, healthy and cuddly dragon with a full tummy.

“Please don't worry. It will be a pleasure for me. Aevon is very dear and is no trouble to me.” Daemon replied, then reached into a tray with a piece of lemon cake and handed it to the girl. He saw with what joy she accepted the treat and began to feast. She deserved a little feast after such an exhausting tour of the castle. “Thank you.” Aevon replied, tastefully finishing eating the sweet treat. She definitely liked the baked goods and wondered if she should go to the castle cook and ask him for the recipe. She was eager to bake a batch of pastries that she could eat with Not-So-Rogue-Prince after their training session with Nevermore.

“I hope you know what you're in for, my Prince, and you, Aevon, I hope you won't take this kingdom apart with Nevermore.” Aramil warned both of them, and directed this most to his daughter, who would indeed take dragon training seriously and not get into any trouble. He hoped he wouldn't have to go for treatment himself when he went crazy around his slightly crazy but still very, very dear child. “Don't worry, dad. This kingdom will stand as it stands. Nothing bad will happen.” Aevon promised, then began staring at the remaining lemon cakes on the tray.

The little girl, Aevon shyly entered a large chamber, where an intricately crafted model of Old Valyria stood on a huge table, and elaborate dragon figurines stood next to a carved city. She carefully picked up one of them and looked at it in awe. Whoever crafted such wonders certainly had great talent. Feeling an urge to play growing in her, she began to play with the figurine she was holding, imagining that she and her good dragon were forced to defend the city from evil dragons. She played until King Viserys came along. She wasn't afraid of him, as he looked very friendly, but she watched him with curiosity. Was he the one who was doing all these wonderful things?

"Uhmm…Hello, Your Grace…Did you create this city and these dragons?" She asked quietly, carefully putting the figurines down on the table. She didn't want to do anything wrong, fortunately she hadn't broken anything, but she hoped the man wouldn't throw her out of here in a very unpleasant way.

After all, she hadn't done anything wrong. She just wanted to play.

Viserys pet project had become a full blown hobby, what started as a history project to learn about the greatest city ever built in the world had now become the elaborate stone model on the grand table in his lavish bedchambers, it had grown so that he had enlisted the best stone workers to carve the models, the buildings, the dragons, everything to the specifications he supplied them from his readings of the ancient texts.

To the king it was a historical recreation of a city the world would never see again, though to a small child he supposed it would be an elaborate playhouse for a doll. He was returning to his chambers after a council meeting, he had slated the day to be spent with his hobby after the meeting. Though when he got there he found a child in his quarters playing with the model, he stopped for a moment and just watched the little girl play. He knew that eventually he would be a grandsire and knew that eventually his own grandchildren would be here doing the same thing, however he didnt know this child.

The king smiled at the child when she asked her question, he could tell that there was some worry about her, "No I did not, but I commissioned them to be made." he answered her truthfully, he wasnt shy to admit that the detail of the stone in the model was beyond his skill. "Tell me child, who are you?" he asked her curiously wondering who this child was and who was she a child of.

[caelmewedd]

Listening to his brother, Daemon shook off the hug Aevon gave him and blinked in surprise that Viserys would allow him to join him in the evenings to work on a project together. Most days he thought that he was not a very welcome guest in these chambers. And yet. His brother invites him to his place and encourages him to spend time together. As it once was, and as it could be more often now, not only for the desire to protect the other from the pernicious influence of the Hightowers, but also for himself. For both of them. He didn't remember the last time he had received an invitation from Viserys to his chambers, the only one who came here was Alicent, and sometimes Rhaenyra, but it was rare. His niece spent most of her time flying on Syrax, rightly finding the dragon to be a nicer companion than her former best friend. Daemon was sure that in such a situation, Aevon and anyone else would think the same. He himself preferred Caraxes' company to the band of pompous, pathetic lords that abound in Westeros. He thought so himself, and like it or not he taught it to his niece, which may not have been good for her at some point, considering her temperament and impulsiveness, but you couldn't blame her for wanting to develop her own view of the world, which was important if she wanted to become Queen of Westeros in the future. And he was sure that would be the case someday, although as long as the Hightowers spawns were here, it wasn't so certain.

"I'll come in the evening and we'll start this worship, brother, we can also think about a separate collection of dragons, a little bigger than the ones here. Would you like a figure of Balerion like this?" Daemon asked, not mentioning for now the serious conversation he would surely have to have with his brother eventually. Even though he didn't like to admit it, he felt that it could help them both heal old wounds and rifts. This was what they needed, but Daemon did not forget about the current tasks he had already committed to his guests.

"We have an appointment, Viserys, but there is something else that requires my attention." Daemon replied with a slight smile, shifting his gaze from his brother to the girl who was staring at him with trusting blue eyes. "I talked to your father and he agreed to dragon training for you. Are you happy, Aevon?" He asked her, and before he knew it, the girl jumped into his arms and hugged him as tightly as anyone had probably ever done before. "I'll take it as a yes." Daemon added quickly, gently loosening the grip of her arms wrapped around his neck. He didn't know why, but he was smiling again in a way that was strictly reserved only for a few members of the family. Was there something about Aevon that made people smile so easily? He didn't know it, but he felt that Aevon's smiles were contagious.

Aramil knew this all too well. It was impossible not to smile or complain about anything around his child. His daughter shared this quality with her mother, as well as beauty, strength and courage. They say that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and in this case it was absolutely true. He and Rosalyn were especially blessed by the gods, they were so proud of their child and certain that from their love no greater fruit could have been born. "I'm sure I'm happy. Thank you," Aevon replied, seething with joy, then glanced at Neremore standing next to them, who was chirping with delight, or at least that's how Aramil perceived the sounds. "Did you hear, Nevermore? We will learn from the best!" The dragon chirped once more, confirming her words, and Daemon also seemed to think optimistically. He had never seen such a dragon before and he also wanted to get to know this extraordinary creature better, and at the same time he wanted to be able to talk to Aevon about what she was telling him in her mind, and especially how in the Seven Hells she did it, and most of all, what had happened between her and his brother. He wondered what kind of disease was bothering his brother and what role this unusual child had in all of this. He absolutely had to find out.

"But remember to be careful, my love. Dragons are not cats or horses, don't treat them like one." Aramil cautioned, afraid to think of what might happen if his daughter made even one careless move in the presence of a fiery beast that might not be as gentle as the Nevermore. "Also, listen to Prince Daemon and don't jump on him like that again." Aramil asked his daughter, who loved to hug all those she considered her friends, but often did not ask someone if they minded. Daemon seemed embarrassed and didn't know how to accept such a dose of hugs and attention.

"It's alright. Really." Daemon assured the mage, although he would indeed have preferred not to be jumped on, but he understood that Aevon was just a child who couldn't contain her excitement; after all, not everyone can become a dragon keeper and rider. Although he didn't see in Aevon any Valyrian features or anything that might betray the blood of dragon lords, there must have been a reason why Nevermore chose her as its owner and future rider. He was curious about this unusual case as well as the nature of the mysterious purple dragon. "And don't worry, I've already taught one little girl about dragons before, so I'll be able to help one more. I'll do it with pleasure." Daemon assured her father, assuring her that although he would teach Aevon about dragons, at the same time he would not put her in danger. He wouldn't, especially since the girl had done something that apparently helped his brother a lot. Whether he owed her a debt of gratitude or not, he would still gladly help her. Nevermore walked closer to Daemon, sniffed him and after a moment rubbed her head against his stomach. As it turned out, the dragon was as cuddly as her owner.

The little girl, Aevon shyly entered a large chamber, where an intricately crafted model of Old Valyria stood on a huge table, and elaborate dragon figurines stood next to a carved city. She carefully picked up one of them and looked at it in awe. Whoever crafted such wonders certainly had great talent. Feeling an urge to play growing in her, she began to play with the figurine she was holding, imagining that she and her good dragon were forced to defend the city from evil dragons. She played until King Viserys came along. She wasn't afraid of him, as he looked very friendly, but she watched him with curiosity. Was he the one who was doing all these wonderful things?

"Uhmm…Hello, Your Grace…Did you create this city and these dragons?" She asked quietly, carefully putting the figurines down on the table. She didn't want to do anything wrong, fortunately she hadn't broken anything, but she hoped the man wouldn't throw her out of here in a very unpleasant way.

After all, she hadn't done anything wrong. She just wanted to play.

Viserys pet project had become a full blown hobby, what started as a history project to learn about the greatest city ever built in the world had now become the elaborate stone model on the grand table in his lavish bedchambers, it had grown so that he had enlisted the best stone workers to carve the models, the buildings, the dragons, everything to the specifications he supplied them from his readings of the ancient texts.

To the king it was a historical recreation of a city the world would never see again, though to a small child he supposed it would be an elaborate playhouse for a doll. He was returning to his chambers after a council meeting, he had slated the day to be spent with his hobby after the meeting. Though when he got there he found a child in his quarters playing with the model, he stopped for a moment and just watched the little girl play. He knew that eventually he would be a grandsire and knew that eventually his own grandchildren would be here doing the same thing, however he didnt know this child.

The king smiled at the child when she asked her question, he could tell that there was some worry about her, "No I did not, but I commissioned them to be made." he answered her truthfully, he wasnt shy to admit that the detail of the stone in the model was beyond his skill. "Tell me child, who are you?" he asked her curiously wondering who this child was and who was she a child of.

[caelmewedd]

Daemon blinked slightly, surprised that Viserys was greeting him with such a big smile on his face, especially since he was supposedly always meant to be a villain, as Otto always suggested. Usually, the Lord Hand was always able to convince his brother that he shouldn't keep him close to him. Daemon sometimes started to think that maybe it was his brother who didn't want him around, regardless of asshole Hightower's personal opinion. "Brother. Hello, Aevon." Daemon replied quietly, entering the chamber with his guest. Aramil looked at his daughter with a soft smile as she summoned 'her' dragon and sighed as Nevermore landed at her feet. He knew that as a mage, Aevon was strongly connected not only with magic itself but also with magical beings who, sensing the magic in her, might want to cling to her more quickly, although he never expected that his little girl would be chosen by a dragon, and these by nature were almost impossible to tame. For now, he could only wait to see what time would tell. “Are you okay, Aevon? How did your tour of the castle go? Did you have fun?” Daemon asked, curious if the girl enjoyed the self-guided tour of the Red Keep. When Aevon nodded affirmatively that she had fun, Daemon and Aramil (especially Aramil), calmed down, although Daemon hoped the girl had not had any trouble on the way to his brother's chambers.

"Hi, Daemon, dad. How was the walk?" Aevon asked them and then listened briefly to what had happened while she sat there. Daemon sighed softly and he didn't know why he smiled so automatically around her, but he did it, he smiled at her and forgot about the more unpleasant thoughts. Maybe because in a way he saw his younger self in her, a passionate and adventurous child who wanted to explore the world with his faithful dragon by his side, or maybe because the extraordinary girl standing before him was like another Rhaenyra, who, as a seven-year-old girl, she constantly walked through the halls with the then baby Syrax on her shoulder and proudly showed the golden beast to everyone she met. Daemon suspected that Aevon had the same passions, and if she was a gourmet when it came to cakes, he was sure that the girl would like his niece.

Daemon seemed to be deep in thought when Viserys mentioned how they both flew on dragons, imagining their own conquests and how they were equal to Aegon the Conqueror, but at the mere mention of their ancient ancestor, Daemon felt a pang of pain as his own brother's words came back to him with bitterness. "You are not a Conqueror." Daemon snapped out of his thoughts in the blink of an eye and focused on the model of the Old Valyria. Looking at the stone city, the Prince had to admit that the entire design, although incomplete, was truly beautiful and one could feel a small taste of the splendor of Old Valyria.

"Never say never, brother. I think it was worth spending so much time on such a project." Daemon said honestly, wondering if he could at least try to finish the model with his brother and at the same time return to the ancient texts and deepen his knowledge, as long as Alicent and her damned father did not interfere with them.

Another pang came to him when Viserys started mumbling something about Maesters, his ailment, and how something could go wrong. Daemon started to think and tried to quickly analyze what his brother was saying. He sometimes saw pain in Viserys's eyes, but he always thought that the look was caused by disappointment with him and the weight of the crown worn by his brother, and not by some chronic illness. Was his brother suffering? Did someone hurt him instead of healing him? What happened and why Viserys didn't tell him. Did he distrust him so much that he would not share information as important as his health condition? It probably was.

After all, he was just the Rogue Prince, the blackest of villains who cared about no one and nothing except himself. Did his brother really think so low of him? After all, if he knew that his brother was sick, he would do everything to help him and, unlike the gray rats of the Citadel, he would really take care of his well-being. Was there any way he could help him now? He was ready to do anything. Anything.

"Daemon, are you okay?" Aevon asked quietly as she walked up to Not-So-Rogue-Prince and hugged him gently. This time she used telepathy and heard all of Daemon's thoughts, which were raging in his head like a storm. Aramil heard it too and felt sincerely sorry for the misjudged Prince. "Shhh, Daemon. Don't be afraid. Your brother isn't suffering anymore." Aevon also responded telepathically, so that only Daemon could hear. The prince blinked in surprise and although he didn't understand what happened here, he felt that he could believe his new friend, but of course he would ask her a few more things, but not now.

He breathed softly as he returned her hug with a slight smile. He had to admit that he was not used to such affection, he had to admit that it was a very nice gesture on the part of the little girl.

The little girl, Aevon shyly entered a large chamber, where an intricately crafted model of Old Valyria stood on a huge table, and elaborate dragon figurines stood next to a carved city. She carefully picked up one of them and looked at it in awe. Whoever crafted such wonders certainly had great talent. Feeling an urge to play growing in her, she began to play with the figurine she was holding, imagining that she and her good dragon were forced to defend the city from evil dragons. She played until King Viserys came along. She wasn't afraid of him, as he looked very friendly, but she watched him with curiosity. Was he the one who was doing all these wonderful things?

"Uhmm…Hello, Your Grace…Did you create this city and these dragons?" She asked quietly, carefully putting the figurines down on the table. She didn't want to do anything wrong, fortunately she hadn't broken anything, but she hoped the man wouldn't throw her out of here in a very unpleasant way.

After all, she hadn't done anything wrong. She just wanted to play.

Viserys pet project had become a full blown hobby, what started as a history project to learn about the greatest city ever built in the world had now become the elaborate stone model on the grand table in his lavish bedchambers, it had grown so that he had enlisted the best stone workers to carve the models, the buildings, the dragons, everything to the specifications he supplied them from his readings of the ancient texts.

To the king it was a historical recreation of a city the world would never see again, though to a small child he supposed it would be an elaborate playhouse for a doll. He was returning to his chambers after a council meeting, he had slated the day to be spent with his hobby after the meeting. Though when he got there he found a child in his quarters playing with the model, he stopped for a moment and just watched the little girl play. He knew that eventually he would be a grandsire and knew that eventually his own grandchildren would be here doing the same thing, however he didnt know this child.

The king smiled at the child when she asked her question, he could tell that there was some worry about her, "No I did not, but I commissioned them to be made." he answered her truthfully, he wasnt shy to admit that the detail of the stone in the model was beyond his skill. "Tell me child, who are you?" he asked her curiously wondering who this child was and who was she a child of.