Dany took one long look at her half-uncles and half-aunt, and decided that they were not good people.
She couldn't really explain a feeling such as that: even her beloved mother, who indulged in her every whim, would be sceptical of her judgement, particularly as Dany had never seen any of them before now. But something in her triggered that alertness that Annabeth had relied on for years. Dany had been smart enough to distance herself from her past life, now regarding Annabeth as a different person, but she could not shake off the lightning-fast reflexes that Annabeth possessed.
Dany was no longer a demigod, but had been upgraded to the rank of princess. Her mother was Princess Rhaenyra, the heir to the Iron Throne, and her supposed father was Laenor Velaryon, heir to High Tide. Dany was not stupid, however. However much Laenor had acted as father to her and her younger siblings, he had not fathered one of them. She suspected that Harwin Strong had contributed to the conception of her younger brothers Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey, due to their shared brown hair and brown eyes, but the matter of her own father was altogether different. Ever since she retaught herself how to read, she had analysed every single male Targaryen there was living, and her main lead for now was Daemon Targaryen, perhaps because of Rhaenyra and Daemon's closeness in the years and months leading up to her birth. If so, she was a byblow of incest, which disgusted the part of her that was Annabeth, but as Daenerys Velaryon she had come to accept it. Targaryens and incest, Dany had realised, come hand in hand. According to the tomes she had read in High Tide's library, scholars often blamed this on their Valyrian heritage, the eastern civilisation that had collapsed after the Doom. Even Dany, with all her past knowledge, had no idea what the Doom could have been, and was. The scholars, in her defense, were not the best at describing the event, and her ancestors had not passed down the stories to their children, so no living Targaryen truly knew what had happened. In any case, nothing of the Doom helped her to know who her father was.
Her family often stayed at Dragonstone, but her supposed aunt Laena Velaryon had died, so all of them travelled to High Tide to meet her husband and her children. And, of course, the King had to come with his second family, with his second wife (not Rhaenyra's mother, but Alicent Hightower) and that wife's children, who all looked Targaryen enough, unlike Dany's brothers, but who seemed rotten to the core. Except the girl, Helaena.
She just was utterly mad, by Annabeth's modern standards.
However, the brothers were another matter entirely. In the second that she looked at them, Dany had already analysed enough body language and enough facial expressions to give her a pretty accurate reading of them. Aemond was standing very close to the queen consort (no, Alicent, Dany would call her Alicent), so that betrayed that Alicent had already picked a favourite child. Aegon was seated next to the King, but both betrayed discomfort being next to one another. But what disturbed Dany was that Aegon had a bruise on his cheek that was covered by what looked like Westerosi makeup. It was good enough that most people did not notice, or perhaps chose not to say a word, but to Dany it bothered her. Even her mother's half-brother did not deserve to be slapped. Or maybe he did. She did not know. She had never met him before now. Aemond had a hand on his sword, and seemed every inch the warrior prince.
Dany hated both of them.
Rhaenyra had warned her to be wary of them. At first, Dany had thought it to be unnecessary, simply an overprotective mother doing what she does best, but upon looking at her uncles, Dany found it in her heart to agree with her mother. They seemed both equally dangerous: the elder perhaps more emotionally driven, the younger driven by hatred and recklessness. Dany found some traits in Aemond that made her think of Percy, though. The recklessness . . . and that was it. But even that made her lip twitch slightly upwards, a movement that she could tell Aegon had zoomed in on.
All the men in there were looking at her, jaw-dropped. All women were too, except Rhaenyra and a girl who must obviously be Helaena, if Dany were to look closely at the spider the girl was petting. Dany shivered internally. She hated spiders, even in her new life. They reminded her of that misfortune with Arachne, and having once been a daughter of Athena, she was not sure if she would ever tolerate spiders.
Rhaenyra took her hand, and led her closer to the King, who looked old and frail beyond his years. Dany did not miss how there were scars littered across his arms and legs, and wondered if the Iron Throne truly did cut those unworthy of sitting on it. Maybe the blood magic in this world was real. Though she missed the demigod magic. Sure, not being chased by monsters was a definite upgrade, but in this life her friends consisted of her brothers, thanks to Rhaenyra and Dany's extraordinary beauty.
"Father, this is Daenerys, also called Dany. Dany, this is your grandfather Viserys, the King of Westeros."
Dany was not sure that was his official title, but she distressed and curtseyed politely to the King. He waved his hand around, and slowly got up.
"I'll have none of that, dear girl. You are my granddaughter, after all. Come, let me look at you." He spread his arms out open, and Dany was tempted to scream or cry or just simply walk away, but she braved her instincts and hugged him.
He looked at her with an eye that might have been flattering if he was not her grandfather and not a frail old man who seemed like he was going to drop as soon as someone pushed him over.
"You look so much like Aemma . . ."
Instantly, his words produced a chain of reactions in the other members of the family present, none of them good. Alicent looked positively fuming, and by extent Aemond did too, Rhaenyra looked insulted and sad all at once, Aegon looked mildly annoyed and Helaena just continued to pet that thrice-accursed spider, which Dany wanted to chuck out of the window.
"Thank you, Your Grace." She bit her lip.
The King waved his hand around again.
"None of that, sweet girl. I am your grandfather, and you are allowed to call me Grandfather. I will not take politeness from close members of my family," he snorted.
Alicent, Aegon and Aemond looked ready to protest at that, but did not utter a word. Dany assumed that they had to call him Your Grace, whilst Rhaenyra's side of the family was much more privileged in terms of closeness with the King.
"As you wish, Grandfather."
The King laughed, and moved on to greet her brothers. The Greens (Rhaenyra called them that because Alicent was a Hightower and House Hightower's colour was green) did not greet her brothers, mostly because they kept spreading rumours that Jace, Luke and Joff were bastards. Dany knew this to be true, but she also understood that her family needed to continue to deny those accusations. At least she looked all Valyrian and all Targaryen, though she had inherited none of the Velaryon face shape, she looked every inch her mother, which brought her some comfort.
She took a seat whilst everyone was intermingling, and she saw out of the corner of her eye that Aegon had gotten up as soon as she had done so. She looked on as Aegon walked towards her with purpose, like he was on some mission or something.
"Greetings, dear niece. It appears that we have not had the chance to be introduced to each other." His voice was as smooth as silk, and annoyingly reminded Dany of how Luke sounded like when he had gone over to Kronos's side. Convincing, persuasive and evil.
"Greetings, uncle." She inclined her head.
"Do you know which one I am?" His tone had a hint of amusement in it, as though she was providing him some kind of raw entertainment.
"Why, I supposed you were Aegon, but if you are Aemond, I am terribly sorry."
He laughed. It was a nice laugh, Dany would give him that. It sounded like the tinkling of church bells: beautiful, but you never knew what it was going to announce. Grief like a funeral, or happiness like a wedding? Annabeth had chosen Olympus the day she found out Athena was her mother, and Dany did not share the Faith of the Seven, but was interested enough in the old gods of Valyria. She did not think for a second that Aegon had a drop of faith in his blood, contrary to his brother or his mother.
"No, you assumed right enough. I am Aegon. Perhaps the bruise gave it away. I am awfully clumsy when getting out of bed." He shook his head. "But it is quite strange that I never have seen you before this . . . sad event for your family. Were you not interested in going to the Red Keep? To King's Landing?"
Dany was tempted to tell him that it was none of his business, or that she did not like King's Landing from Jace's detailed description of it, or that she never wanted to meet him or his brother or his sister or his mother, but she said none of these things. Recklessness in this life could mean her death, princess or not, beauty or not.
"My mother considered King's Landing a rather awful place to raise a young girl, and I admit that I never had the urge to visit the capital, though perhaps I might soon." Dany shrugs. She does not care what her idiot of an uncle thinks.
He laughed again, and was about to reply with some sort of snarky response, maybe insulting her brothers, maybe insulting Rhaenyra, when the large front doors of High Tide burst open. A man entered, middle-aged but still fit and handsome, all Valyrian, with his hand on a dark sword that was stained with blood. He seemed every inch the commander and warrior, and emitted an aura that Dany thought to be quite similar to one that a King should possess, though he was obviously not the King. Dany did not miss the way the King's eyes widened ever so slightly upon the man's entrance, or the way Alicent Hightower seemed even more furious, or the way Aemond and Aegon both pursed their lips, or even how starstruck and happy Rhaenyra seemed, a stark contrast to her previous behaviour during all of the day.
Two girls accompanied the man. They were younger than Dany, but to her surprise resembled her far more than Dany could have ever imagined. The man's eyes searched the hall, landing on Rhaenyra, before continuing to search, all until he looked at Dany. When he met her gaze, his lip twitched upwards, just like Dany when she was amused at something, and Dany found herself copying the movement. He looked then at the King, and his expression changed to a more neutral and indifferent expression. The King bit his lip.
"Hello, brother. Missed me?" Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince, spread his arms wide open.
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