Soft Glow of Twilight
Dragonstone, with its stark majesty and incontestable beauty, was not the place for Daenaera. Its slim towers, the finely carved dragons, the incomparable mastery of the masonry were things that could evoke her admiration but not move her heart. It was too cold, too unfeeling.
Aegon and Viserys had avoided it yet in the few times they had been willing to speak of their time there, she had caught the undertone of longing. Such confused people they were, she thought. Despite everything, Aegon had never declared their eldest Prince of Dragonstone. Daenaera and Viserys had been the only ones who knew that it wasn't just because of Daeron's youth. Aegon thought that the place he loved and feared had been cursed. He would not send their son there. Never.
Now, the place was a home to another Daeron who was Prince of Dragonstone. Home to children who viewed Rhaenyra Targaryen only as a page in history. With increasing frequency, Daenaera realized that she'd soon become such a page as well. But only at night. In daytime, she was too drawn into the life swirling around her. Somehow, she had never associated Dragonstone with life.
For years, she had been rising well before sunrise. She retained this habit through her visits here, as well. The captain of her household guard – since the King had decided that the Queen Dowager who was not related to him by blood no longer merited having a Kingsguard – followed her through her long walks that somehow always ended at the pool.
The archives held no records and no one living could say who had come up with the idea of the stone bowl but someone had: a huge circle carved directly out of the rock on the edge of sea and filled by it. It was beautiful, indeed, in its sapphire glow at dawn. But Daenaera would never risk dipping a toe in it. At this time of the day, it must be freezing cold. That was the sea of Dragonstone! In fact, she would not risk dipping a toe in the afternoon either when the castle was having a few hours of rest… or trying to.
"I'm sorry," Elaena sighed. "I'm so used to them making noise that I didn't think you might not take it nearly that well, Mother."
Daenaera pursed her lips. "I'll manage," she said, wryly. "But by the Mother, they are quite lively ones."
Elaena laughed. "You're being tactful," she said, her eyes following the boys in and around the pool. Daeron's sons and their companions, Elaena's own boys among them, were constantly drawn to this place. And of course, they could not enjoy it quietly.
"Twenty lengths!" someone cried out. "Robert is in the lead!"
Two heads cut the water again in their fierce competition. "Baelor will win," Elaena said confidently.
Daenaera thought it didn't look like it but she saved her opinion for herself. "I'm glad Jon is getting better," she said. "It must have been quite the brawl for him to look like this, blue all over…"
Elaena shrugged. She was a firm believer in raising men, not wilted flowers. As long as Jon was not permanently damaged, she wouldn't fret too much. That was the way boys grew up. "He's fine now," she said. "And I heard enough of Lord Penrose's concerns when they returned from King's Landing. One would think that he should have kept Jon pasted to his side all the time, by the sound of it…" She paused. "It looks like there were some talks between a bunch of squires."
Daenaera sighed. It was easy to guess what the talk had been about – either Naerys' morals, or Baelor's looks. Her grandson was fiercely loyal to Daeron and Baelor, his constant companion and rival in everything. Once again, hatred surged through her. The rumours Aegon was fueling held no grain of truth and he knew it. Just like he knew he was destroying the realm Aegon and Viserys had devoted their lives to – and didn't care about that either. Wouldn't he die already? Where was justice in Daena's dying in her prime while this rotting corpse lived and kept wreaking havoc all around?
Rotting corpse…
"Sometimes, I wondered how people could look at me and never see that I was empty inside. Hollow. Not much more than a corpse. Under my finery, there was nothing."
"You were never a corpse to me," Daenaera replied.
"You deserved more, Daenaera."
"We're in agreement about this," she snapped. "But you were all I was allowed to. And you left me."
As a young girl, she had dreamed of a passionate love with her king, a romance from the songs. Later, she only dreamed of a passionate love and she had never found it. As queen, she wasn't allowed to. And for all his self-proclaimed deadness, Aegon still held a sway over her. She had never desired another man. Almost thirty years had passed since his death, and she had never looked at another. Sometimes, she could just feel her fury building hot like the dragons he so hated. How dared he?
"I didn't want to."
"I know," she sighed. "I'm sorry."
Was that laughter that she heard? It must have been all in her head… well, even more in her head than the entire conversation that was not taking place. In all their years together, she had never heard Aegon laugh. "That's what I say. But be sorry all you want. I won't hold your words against you when I come for you."
"Hurry up…"
"Won't you come back already?" Rhaegel cried from the pool, startling her out of her non-conversation.
Aerys who was lying on two towels, quite dry already, barely looked up. Even at the pool, he had come with his book.
"As soon as I'm done with this chapter," he called back.
"And the next one, no doubt!" his brother replied resentfully.
Aerys didn't deign the accusation with an answer.
"I need this book," Maekar said in a businesslike manner. Daenaera watched him as he jumped out of the water with amazing speed and without hesitation, grabbed the book from Aerys' hands and ran around the pool with it. Now, Aerys did look up, jumping up at the same time.
"Give me this book back right now, you little monster!" he yelled giving a chase. But despite the three years between them, Maekar seemed to be the quicker one. Putting a greater distance between them, he opened the book and held it above the water.
"See?" he asked, grinning, revealing a fallen milk tooth. "Now you can come in and have fun with us. No need to thank me."
Aerys eyed him warily but seeing that there was no way to save the book should Maekar's intention turn lethal and read it and the same time, he looked up. "See that?" he exclaimed to no one in particular. "This boy is spoiled rotten. Mother and Father are to blame. I don't…"
"Excuse me," a male voice drawled. "If we go on this way, will we be admitted, or should we go to the main gate?"
Everyone looked up. Elaena's hand went instinctively to her hair, smoothing it. Daenaera smiled. Always the flirt, this one! Not that the man was unworthy of it. Somewhere Elaena's age, he was dark-haired, with the purple eyes she thought only Valyrians had. But he was no Targaryen… and no Velaryon either. Where had he come from?
"It depends," she said. "What are you here for?"
Now, he checked himself. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm Davos Dayne. And that's my daughter Dyanna. I've come here on Princess Mariah's business…"
"I see," Daenaera replied. "Very well, I am the Queen Dowager. And yes, you will be admitted if you tell them what you said to me."
He made a quick bow and the little girl next to him curtsied. But when he started up the path, she stayed where she was, staring at the pool intently, with both awe and displeasure that Daenaera could not put her finger on. "Why aren't there any girls there?" she demanded.
"Come on," her father said.
"No," Dyanna stated. "I want to know. Why do I see only boys?"
Albeit very young, she seemed to realize that her father wasn't the right person to ask, so she addressed her question to Daenaera and Elaena… and Maekar who just happened to be the one closest to her.
"Because it isn't proper," he said, seeing that neither woman was ready with an answer.
She wasn't pleased with this answer. Her rosy lips pursed. She made a step forward to see him better which, in turn, let Daenaera see her better. She had never seen such a beautiful child – save for her own, of course. The white skin complemented by the most exquisite features with no puppy fat on them stood out even more against the river of glossy black hair. And her eyes were the most striking violet Daenaera had ever seen. In ten years, men would be tripping over their feet to win her favour.
"When is the girls' time to swim?" she asked.
"There isn't any," Maekar replied and her eyes went wide with shock.
"And Princess Mariah allows that!" she exclaimed, disbelieving. "In Dorne, we'd never…"
"It isn't Dorne here," he reminded her. "And she's wed to a Targaryen prince. She cannot…"
But she wasn't pleased with this answer, either. After mulling over the matter for a moment, she stomped her foot and announced, "Well, I'll never wed a Targaryen prince if they observe such stupid rules. They must be very stupid themselves."
"Well," he retorted, "I can't see the prince who will want to wed you. You seem to be a real pain in the…" Here, he remembered Daenaera and Elaena's presence. "In the head," he finished, quite unconvincingly.
Dyanna glared. "Oh! You're such a lout!"
"And you have no manners. I really can't see…"
Davos Dayne clearly decided that enough was enough: he grabbed his daughter by the hand and dragged her up the path. The harsh tone of his voice was unmistakable despite the Dornish drawl.
"She's repulsive," Maekar announced and then ran after Aerys who had quietly sneaked on him and was now going away victorious, the book safely squeezed under his arm.
Daenaera looked at the pool, then Elaena, and laughed. She wondered whether he'd think so in ten years!
"Perhaps," Aegon said. "He looks quite strong-minded."
"Mulish, is the word his mother uses," she informed him. "And he was not right. Have you ever seen a prettier girl?"
"I have." His voice turned serious. "Rhaena and Baela presented her to me at a great ball…"
Her eyes welled up. "I remember," she whispered.
There was silence on the other end.
"Soon, my love," he breathed. "We'll be reunited soon."
"You've been telling this to me for years!" she protested but she knew that this time, he was not trying to be soothing. The pain in her joints told her that it would be soon, indeed. The inability to take breath that plagued her more and more frequently. The rapid beating of a heart trying to leap out of her chest… He'd be waiting for her. He. Daeron and Baelor. Daena. Others. So many beloved wraiths gone so long from her life, taking pieces of her heart.
Little did she know that this day would bring them the news of the unworthy end of an unworthy reign. She had no idea that the legacy of Aegon and Viserys would soon rise to life in Daeron. And, fortunately, she had no idea that long after her death, all of her grandsons would meet on the opposite ends of a rebellion that only one of them would survive.
The End
A/N. And that, my beloved readers, was the end of my Daenaera Velaryon series, unless I do write the bit about the death of the last dragon and squeeze it inside. I hope you enjoyed reading my version of Daenaera's journey. Thanks for following through!
