Your relationship with Viserys was a source of pride for the remaining Targaryens, your committal to the ideals of your father, keeping the Targaryen bloodline to the purity which it had been for many years. Even as you were exiled from Westeros, your small family remained together, helping to raise Danaerys as authentically as you could to how you’d been raised.
You built a bond with her, an amalgam between a maternal figure and the older sibling she needed to help her through such trying times.
Thus, as news of your conceiving of a child was received, she was the first person you told. It was cause for celebration! You had an heir, and a viable claim to the throne now!
You took her hands in yours and brought her out into the balmy summer air. “I think I’m pregnant, Dany.”
Danaerys was silent for a moment, staring back at you, before mirroring your excitement and squeezing your hand. “Have you told Viserys yet?”
“I will,” you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, “soon.”
She frowned with minor disapproval. Despite the closeness of your bond, both of you were prone to keeping secrets. “He’ll be happy to hear it, Y/N, you’re the only thing that matters to him.”
“But, what do you think?”
Her brow furrowed. “What does it matter what I think? I’m excited to be an aunt, to spoil them rotten, teach them our history, like you taught me. I’ll be by your side, no matter what. Now, go tell Viserys!” She gave you a light-hearted shove towards the door, corners of her lips twisting up into a pleasant expression.
She could feel Viserys fuming beside her. She didn’t risk glancing to confirm her suspicions. His grip on her wrist had grown rigid, painful even, as he pulled her behind him.
He threw open the first set of doors they came to, ignoring the pleas of Danaerys behind them. Shoving his bride into the room, he turned back to his younger sister. “I hope it was worth it, you wretch!”
She caught one last glimpse of her sister’s face- shining with tears- before Viserys slammed the door shut, sealing the two in the small bedroom. For a moment, it seemed as though he intended to punish her with silence. Y/N watched firmly, fear beginning to coil within her. She had never seen him quite this angry. Reflexively, she spoke. “I’m sorry.”