Hi again, I want to thank everyone who has read this story, the number has just grown to over 700! :) Also thank you to those who have left reviews, they are much appreciated. I also need to thank Magi Tail Welkin, Exotence, Micidonal, Night Rain (a guest), and xSilentSakurax for the new characters. On that note, I asked that you please fill out everything fully. I am still in need of two children King Aerys between the ages of 18 and 26, as well as the children of Crown Prince Aemon and his sister-wife Princess Alaena who are 10 or younger. Characters from other houses are welcome as well, as are any bastard Targaryens, especially them. Please try to enjoy this chapter, and have a wonderful day or night.
Chapter 7: Daemon II
The day may have been warm, hot even, with a bright golden sun shining down from a cloudless cobalt sky, but within the dark master bedroom of Harrenhal, Daemon Targaryen stared to scream in his sleep.
In most places across the known world a mass panic would have followed if someone had suddenly started to scream as if they were being murdered; but to the handful of servants that lived and worked the empty and haunted rooms and halls of the massive castle, it was a near daily occurrence. The only inhabitants of Harrenhal who took any notice of the young man's screams where: the Maester, who mentioned it in his writings about the day: the rats and bugs that inhabited the rooms close to Daemon's bedchamber, who removed themselves from the area: and the dragon Rhaegal, who lay sunning himself in the largest of the courtyards.
But all the massive scarlet male could do was raise his head to look up at the bedroom window of his rider, and lose a roar that should have been able to wake the dead, in a fruitless attempt to waken his rider. Daemon, however, was lost far beyond the reach of Rhaegal's voice, for he was lost in the place where reality met the land of dreams, and not in a pleasant way.
Instead, Daemon Targaryen was lost in a world where the memoirs of his imprisonment and tortured under the Dreadfort, ran together with the strange and terrible dream he had been having, and the others like it that had come before. It was a blending of horror, blood, pain, fire, and death that no one, not even the evilest of men should ever have to endure.
(In Daemon's dreams/nightmares)
He was in his cell below the Dreadfort, and it was cold, yet he was surrounded by flames. Lord Reabeen Bolton was standing above him, towering really, and in his right hand was a wicked looking knife. All of Daemon's attention was in the blade as he helplessly wondered what Lord Reabeen was going to do within next.
"I have told you before, boy!" Lord Reabeen sound like a dragon when he yelled, as his voice was a deep roar. "You are to keep those unnatural indigo lights on my eyes, not anywhere else do you understand me!" He hit Daemon across the face with his empty hand, the blow hurt, especially as it stuck Daemon's badly healed left cheekbone, which was once again cracked by the blow.
Daemon felt his eyes began to burn with tears as pain shot up the left side of his face. But the young prince refused to let himself cry, he might be on the edge of death, but he would never give Lord Reabeen the satisfaction of seeing him in tears. "I understand," Daemon managed to grit out.
"I understand, master," Lord Reabeen yelled, hitting Daemon a second time. "Say it, boy!"
Looking back, Daemon would never know how he managed to spit the blood that filled his mouth at the Lord of the Dreadfort, let alone how he had managed to hit the man, but that was what had happened, and he watched in terror as the man when scarlet with rage.
"You!" The Lord Reabeen spit, his face the color of Rhaegal's scales. "Oh you are going to lose more than a finger for that, boy, much more," The man's ice like eyes turned downwards, and Daemon Targaryen closed his own.
(End Daemon's dreams/nightmares)
Daemon's eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright in bed, gasping, he was covered in sweat and his throat was raw for screening. The word was a haze of color around him, the most notable of which was red, without truly thinking about what he was doing, Daemon got up, pulled a dark blue cloak on over the dark shirt and pants he had slept in, before leaving his rooms.
The two servants that he met as he ran down to the main courtyard got out of his way, fast, they both knew of what had happened to his sister Rhaenyra... reaching the outer courtyard Daemon spotted Rhaegal in seconds, and it only took him seconds more to scramble onto his dragons back. Once in place, he gave Rhaegal the command to take flight, and moments later he was in the sky.
Daemon let out a long breath, and, as he always did when he was in the air, he remembered what it was like to feel safe.
