Thank you, pinke289 and VVSINGOFTHECROSS, for being such faithful reviewers!
Kings and Queens, and Breath of Death
Daemon
The castle of Dragonstone was a great place. An evil place, people said. Magic dripped from its very walls and the dragons that adorned it were rumoured to have been strengthened with the blood and bones of actual dragons, while the greatest one dozed under the volcano, keeping it alive with his breath, until one day he'd awake and turn the castle, island, port and village into a gaping ruin. Daemon had always loved those rumours, wondering what it would be like to live in such a notorious place. But now, the dark charm seemed to be lost on even him. With all he had, he was focused on the task at hand, the one that had brought him here. What he had always wanted was so close, so enticing and so nearly within reach. Before entering, he paused, planning his words and bearing again. He could not fail at this. He simply could not.
Rhaenyra received him in an elevated chair, not unlike a throne. Even in her solar, she never let anyone forget that she was the queen in waiting!
"Why are you staying in the dark?" he asked after bowing over her hand.
She shrugged. "I am tired," she answered. "But I'll have some candles lit if that's your wish."
"It is."
In the candlelight, he was surprised at how unwell she looked. She had lost weight and the bags under her eyes were as purple as the pupils. She waved him to a chair.
"I came to see how you're faring."
"I'm faring well," Rhaenyra said sharply. "Isn't it obvious?"
"No," he answered honestly. "I am surprised that your father didn't invite you over to King's Landing. Dragonstone isn't the best place for you right now."
"Well, it's the place I have," she snapped. "And right now, I am not sure I want to leave it. Only the gods know if I'd ever be allowed to return. Not if the Queen has something to say about it."
Now, that was more like her. Daemon smiled. "You're wise to be afraid of her."
Rhaenyra's eyes blazed. "I am not…" she started and paused. Daemon waited for her to continue but the silence drew on.
She knows that I'm playing her. Quickly, Daemon reassessed his plans. Pretended concern wouldn't fool her, clearly. You have grown up. No longer a child, are you? She was certainly less attractive than the girl he wooed once but perhaps she was cleverer. She still couldn't be what Laena had been to him but perhaps he could actually spend some time with her without feeling bored. If he managed to convince her, that was.
"Perhaps you should," he said honestly. "If you lose Corlys and Rhaenys' support…"
This time, Rhaenyra actually jumped to her feet. "I am not going to lose it!" she swore. He tried to read her expression. There wasn't any remorse.
"By the dragons," he said softly, astounded. "They are his."
Suddenly, Rhaenyra laughed. "If only you could see your face," she said and sobered immediately. "Why are you here?"
No. Wooing her would not work. She was still grieving for Strong and perhaps Laenor. But that didn't mean that she couldn't be won.
"To offer you an alliance," he said. "I want to confirm the betrothals of my girls to your sons. That should soothe any fears you might have about Corlys and Rhaenys. And I want to discuss your future and mine. I very much hope it would be harmonious. Which includes you not marrying Aegon."
That was enough to stun her into speechlessness. But not for long. "My father will never…" she started but her voice faded. "He won't let her convince him," she went on. "And after the accident with Aemond, she will never…"
"Won't she?" Daemon asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Rhaenyra was silent. He could practically see the gears of her thought running a horrified round: Viserys pressing her as heavily as he had about Laenor; a marriage in which Aegon would never accord her the respect due to a future ruler, instead trying to confine her to a traditional wife's role; a reign in which she'd have to always look behind her shoulder out of fear what her consort might to; accidents for her boys the moment she gave Aegon a son…
"What do you propose?" she finally asked and he told her, whereupon, albeit not attracted to her anymore, he felt obliged to offer that they renew their acquaintance in a more meaningful way.
Wooing did have a part, after all. A small one. And when in the intimacy of her bedchamber, late at night, he reached for her bodice, the thought that he would make love to a woman whose sons he might kill one day was so thrilling that he needed no further stimuli to perform.
The news of Rhaenyra's state made him feel wonder and sadness at the same time. He had given up the hope for a son after the horror that had cost Laena her life. But with Rhaenyra, it might actually happen. She only seemed to give birth to boys. A shame it was, because, to his surprise, Daemon had found himself actually liking the little brats that she had spawned before. But if the child did turn out to be a boy, well, perhaps something would need to be done, and soon. Of course, not now. It could be a girl, after all. And Daemon wouldn't place his child's life in danger by causing the mother such grief. So the children ran around the castle, with Baela insisting to ride on Jace's back, and Rhaenyra kept swelling until one day, before giving her weekly audience to supplicants, she told Daemon that the day had come.
"Why aren't you in bed already?" he asked, startled, and she rolled her eyes.
"When the time comes, I will. For now, I'd rather not think about it until I absolutely must. Nothing will happen for a long while." She paused. "Perhaps you should go flying around?" she offered, clearly thinking that he'd be of no use here.
"Are you banishing me?" he asked, incredulous, and she sighed but didn't deny it.
"I don't need you around, pacing before my door and asking foolish questions, like "Is she in pain?" Of course I will be."
"I won't," he promised, taken aback by her easy readiness to submit to the inevitable. But then, she had done it three times already without any complications. "Just don't send me away."
So she didn't, and he didn't pace before her door. Instead, he paced around her solar, wondering why all the children had decided to camp here, yet not having the heart to tell them off.
"Mama will have a babe," Jace announced importantly. "He'll be as small and screeching as Joff when he was born."
"I never screeched!" his brother screeched.
"If you don't keep quiet, I'll make you both screech," Daemon warned, belatedly realizing that he had only aroused their respectful curiosity. For a reason that he couldn't fathom yet, those three thought he was a hero. They wanted to be like him. Why, they were probably eager to learn how to make people screech… He had to admit that it felt kind of nice.
And then, a midwife appeared and he forgot all about screeching.
"You did it," he breathed when he first lay eyes on the tiny person in Rhaenyra's tired arms. He had no hair, eyes that were narrowing and widening and a lusty cry that would put a dragon to shame… Rhaenyra looked at him, freshly washed and smiling but still bearing all the signs of a great struggle. There was no blood in her lips. Pain had carved deep wrinkles in her face and her nose looked sharpened enough to cut through stone. Her face and arms were veritable nets of blue and red lines. Her hair was still damp with sweat. But she had never looked more beautiful, even when she had been hailed as the Realm's Delight. "You really gave me a son."
In her eyes, there was all the joy in the world. He reached over and drew a hand along her cheek. She smiled weakly and directed his hand at the newborn.
Jace, Daemon thought. He said that it would be a boy. But it didn't feel right to think of the boy he might kill soon right now. Not today. Jace's turn would come soon enough, probably. In a year or two. No more than that.
