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30% House Of The Dragon: Sweet Sister / Chapter 3: -3-

Bab 3: -3-

Under the expansive skies of Dragonstone, the sun began its descent, casting a mesmerizing tapestry of orange, pink, and purple across the horizon. The air was warm, imbued with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers that danced gently in the breeze. In a secluded corner of the gardens, where ancient stone walls met the lush embrace of greenery, Jacaerys and his sister Aelora sought solace away from the ever-watchful eyes of the court.

Aelora, with her long, flowing hair shimmering in the golden light, knelt beside a patch of vibrant daisies, her fingers delicately brushing against their petals. Jacaerys, tall and strong, watched her with a fond smile, his heart swelling with affection. Aelora possessed a light that drew him in, a warmth so profound that it made even the darkest days feel bright.

"Do you think these flowers remember us?" Aelora mused, her voice carrying a playful lilt. "We used to pick them for Mother when we were little."

Jacaerys chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I like to think they do. Perhaps they whisper secrets to the wind about the children who once danced among them."

Aelora looked up, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Do you remember our secret hideout? The one by the old oak tree?"

"How could I forget?" he replied, a nostalgic smile spreading across his face. "We thought we were invincible up there, didn't we?"

"Of course! We even declared ourselves rulers of our own kingdom!" Aelora laughed, the sound like music, echoing through the garden. "And you were the bravest knight, ever ready to defend our realm from any intruders."

Jacaerys's heart warmed at the cherished memory. "And you were my wise queen, guiding me with your sage counsel."

Aelora rose gracefully to her feet, brushing off her skirts. "We were quite the formidable pair, weren't we?"

"Indeed," he agreed, stepping closer, the distance between them shrinking as the sun dipped lower. "But I think we've grown even stronger since then."

Aelora's smile softened as she met his gaze, a depth of understanding passing between them. "Yes, we have. Together, we can face anything."

The weight of their shared experiences hung in the air, unspoken yet palpable. Jacaerys had always felt a special bond with Aelora, one that transcended their roles as siblings. As they matured, he found himself drawn to her in ways he couldn't fully articulate—more than mere familial love; it was a connection that felt profound and undeniable.

"Do you ever think about the future?" he asked, his tone shifting to a more serious note.

Aelora tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… our lives, our paths," he began, hesitating slightly. "The responsibilities that await us. The expectations."

Aelora sighed, her expression thoughtful, reflecting the burdens they both carried. "I do think about it. Sometimes it feels overwhelming, doesn't it? The weight of our names, the burdens we bear."

Jacaerys nodded, his brow furrowing. "But I believe we can forge our own destinies, Aelora. We don't have to follow the paths laid out for us."

Her heart raced at his words, a flicker of hope igniting within her. "You really think so?"

"I know so," he replied, stepping closer still, their faces mere inches apart. "We have each other. With our bond, we can create a future that is ours, not dictated by anyone else."

Aelora felt a surge of emotion at his conviction. "Together, always," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Always," Jacaerys echoed, his gaze unwavering. In that moment, the world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them entwined in a shared dream of what could be.

As the sun began its descent below the horizon, casting a warm glow around them, Jacaerys took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "Aelora," he said, his voice steady yet soft, "you look beautiful."

Aelora was momentarily taken aback, but she composed herself, offering him a gentle smile. "Thank you for the compliment; I appreciate it."

Jacaerys sighed, his emotions overwhelming him as he suddenly scooped her into his arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled deeply, savoring her sweet scent. "I cannot wait to marry you. Everyone is going to be jealous of me," he laughed, his tone light yet sincere.

Aelora gazed at the sky, her thoughts momentarily lost in the vastness above. She said nothing, but wrapped her arms around him, petting his head in a comforting gesture.

Meanwhile, Aegon had sent a letter to his youngest brother, who resided in Oldtown, concerning Aelora's betrothal. Daeron too had fallen deeply in love with her, but unlike his brothers, he had not been able to draw close to Aelora, having been dispatched to Oldtown. He had harbored plans to ask for her hand in marriage once he came of age, but upon receiving Aegon's letter, he tore it to pieces in a fit of despair.

Aegon's missive revealed the heart-wrenching news that their mother had rejected Rhaenyra's proposal. Daeron gritted his teeth, fury and frustration boiling within him. "If only I had been born earlier," he muttered to himself, the words laden with regret.

In a moment of impulsive resolve, Daeron sent a raven to his mother, pouring out his anger and disillusionment onto the parchment. When Alicent received the letter, her heart shattered at the sight of her son's anguish. Rhaenyra's daughter had completely captured her sons' hearts, and now they were behaving with an obsessive fervor that left her feeling helpless.

The candlelight flickered softly in Daeron's chamber, casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. He sat at his small writing desk, the scent of ink and parchment filling the air as he hovered over a fresh sheet of paper. His heart felt heavy, each word he penned weighed down by the sorrow of unrequited love. The news of Aelora's betrothal had struck him like a dagger, and every stroke of his quill brought forth a flood of emotions he could no longer contain.

"My dearest Aelora," he began, his handwriting elegant yet shaky, reflecting the turmoil within. "As I write this letter, I cannot help but feel the ache in my heart. The news of your betrothal has left me in a state of despair. I had hoped—no, I had dreamed—that one day you might look upon me with the same affection that I have long harbored for you."

He paused, biting his lip as he fought back the swell of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. The quill trembled in his hand as he continued, "Every moment spent apart from you has felt like an eternity, and the thought of you being with another man fills me with a sadness I cannot adequately express. I have admired you from afar, cherishing the moments we shared, the laughter, the conversations that lingered long after we parted. You are a light in my life, Aelora, one that I fear I may never reach."

Daeron's heart raced as he recalled the times they had spent together—her laughter ringing like music, her smile chasing away the shadows of his loneliness. "You deserve happiness, more than I can ever give you," he wrote, his chest tightening. "But to see you bound to another… it shatters me. I wish for you to know that my feelings for you run deep, deeper than the ocean, more steadfast than the mountains. I would do anything to be the one you choose, to be the man who stands by your side."

He paused again, the weight of his confession settling heavily upon him. The ink glistened in the light as he considered the risk of such a revelation. Would she understand the depths of his heart? Would she see past the confines of their familial ties? "I know you may not feel the same," he continued, his heart aching with vulnerability. "But I had to tell you, to lay bare my heart before you, even if it is in vain. To keep this love hidden would be a torment I cannot endure."

With a heavy sigh, Daeron concluded, "I wish for your happiness above all else, Aelora. I hope you find joy in this new chapter of your life, even if it is without me. Remember that someone on the other side of the realm loves you dearly. Yours, always, Daeron."

He folded the letter carefully, sealing it with wax before calling for a raven. The small bird perched on his windowsill, its feathers ruffled in the evening breeze. With a heavy heart, he tied the letter to its leg, whispering a silent prayer for its safe journey to Dragonstone.

As the raven took flight, Daeron felt a mixture of hope and despair. He knew that sending his letter was a risk, but he could not bear the thought of keeping his feelings locked away any longer. The raven soared high into the sky, disappearing into the horizon, carrying his heart across the distance.

Meanwhile, on Dragonstone, Jacaerys stood on the battlements, the salty breeze ruffling his hair as he surveyed the horizon. He scanned the skies, feeling an inexplicable tension in the air.

As he gazed into the distance, he noticed a small figure darting toward the castle—a raven. Instinctively, his heart raced. Ravens were not just messengers; they carried news, sometimes good, but often bad. He narrowed his eyes, watching as the bird approached, its wings flapping furiously. Just as it neared, he reached for his bow, a surge of protectiveness rising within him.

With a swift motion, he drew the arrow and aimed at the raven. He released the string, and the arrow flew true, striking the bird mid-flight. It tumbled from the sky, hitting the ground with a muted thud. Jacaerys's breath came in quick bursts as he approached the fallen creature, his heart pounding with a mix of triumph and dread.

As he knelt beside the raven, he noticed the letter still tied to its leg. Curiosity ignited within him, and with a swift motion, he untied the parchment, careful to avoid the bloodied feathers. Unfolding it, he began to read, the words striking him like a blow.

"My dearest Aelora," he read aloud, his voice tinged with disbelief. Each line felt like a dagger, twisting in his heart. "...the news of your betrothal has left me in a state of despair… I had hoped—no, I had dreamed—that one day you might look upon me with the same affection…"

As he read on, rage swelled within him. "You deserve happiness, more than I can ever give you… but to see you bound to another… it shatters me." The words echoed in his mind, igniting a fire of jealousy and protectiveness. How dare Daeron lay claim to Aelora's heart when he had no right to?

Jacaerys's hands trembled with fury as he reached the conclusion of the letter. "I wish for your happiness above all else… Remember that someone on the other side of the realm loves you dearly." The final words stirred a torrent of emotions within him—anger, and an overwhelming sense of possessiveness over Aelora.

Without a second thought, he crumpled the letter in his fist, his heart racing as he stood amidst the remnants of the fallen raven. He glanced around, ensuring no one was watching, and put it on the fire. The parchment as he watched the flames consumed the words that had stoked the fires of his jealousy.

As the letter burned, Jacaerys felt a mix of relief and guilt wash over him. He had acted on impulse, driven by his emotions, but he could not allow Daeron's words to take root in Aelora's heart. She was his, and he would do whatever it took to protect that bond, to ensure that no one, not even his own brother, could come between them.

As the ashes fell to the ground, he felt a sense of finality. The letter was gone, but the feelings it evoked remained, a constant reminder of the battle he now faced. He would confront Daeron, and he would make it clear that Aelora's heart belonged to him. And he would fight for it, no matter the cost.


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