I needed to write something and so this was the something I wrote. I might've got the timeline a little wrong but we'll see. I'll probably throw in more of these along the way. Enjoy and tell me what you think, no?
The air was stifling, a humidity that hadn't been known in King's Landing for quite some time. Sweat clings to Daena's skin, the sun beating down upon her as she tires her hardest to keep her attention on the target in front of her.
She'd been at it for hours, firing arrow after arrow with the Dornish short recurved bow her brother had brought back from Dor. Her fingers ached, her head fuzzy from so many hours under the heat- all in the hope of hitting the centre.
Let it hit, she whispers, releasing the arrow from the bow. She watches it sail through the air, her heart lifting ever so slightly as it looks as if the arrow is about the hit the middle when...
It falls. Three feet away. To the ground.
Daena's worst hit all morning.
Tears begin gathering in her eyes before she reminds herself dragons don't cry and instead allows her anger at her failures coarse through her, much more suited for a dragon princess.
She throws the bow onto the ground, an angry cry of, "I can't do it!" and a cross of her arms.
Daeron only laughs, pushing himself away from the wall he'd been leaning on.
"You give up too easily," her brother says, bending to pick up the discarded bow. "Do you think dragons give up when they can only breathe smoke on their first try?"
Daena's shakes her head, letting some of her anger leave her at Daeron's soft words. He offers the bow out to her. "One last try, yeah?" Daena nods, wiping the sweat from her forehead and taking the bow out of Daeron's hands.
"Just take your time," the boy king says, stepping away. "No need to rush."
Daena bites her lip, positioning the arrow in the bow, focusing on nothing else but the target, drawing the string back and-
"Daena!"
Startled, the dragon princess releases the arrow before she's ready. Ignoring the woman's call, she watches as it sails through the air landing crisp into the middle of her target.
A smile passes across Daena's face as the woman behind her continues to call her name. She looks to Daeron, finding a similar smile plastered on her king brother's face. She looks back to the arrow sticking out of the bulls-eye, pride filling her up.
"Daena!" the voice finally calls, sounding irritated at the ignorance she'd been receiving.
Daena turns to find her mother standing near the entrance to the courtyard, looking at her two children disapprovingly.
The girl lowers the bow, the pride fading out of her as Queen Daenaera continues to look mildly irritated.
"You should be inside," Mother chides.
Daena pouts, frowning. "I don't want to be stuck inside knitting, I want to be out here with Daeron."
Mother approaches then, taking the bow out of her daughter's hands and passing it to Daeron.
"Daeron has duties," she says and Daena rolls her eyes. "In fact, he's needed at the council meeting."
She feels a pat on her shoulder, "Another time, Daena." He leaves the courtyard then, taking the bow with him.
"It's not fair," Daena says, still pouting and looking to the floor. "I'm a Targaryen, all the other Targaryens were allowed to defend themselves, why can't I?"
Daenaera smiles, crouching so she's just below her daughter's height. Grasping hold of her hand, she says, "You have no reason to defend yourself. Daeron will do that for you."
The girl offers the smallest smile but she's still not swayed. Mother refuses to talk any more on it, however, standing up and reaching to retake Daena's hand.
"Come," she says, beginning to lead Daena out of the courtyard. "Your sisters are in need of your company."
Daena offers one last look towards the arrow in the bulls-eye, feeling that last glow of pride, before she's reluctantly following her mother into the Keep.