Chapter 2- The Dance of Dragons

Rhaenyra was met by the king on the way to her big day. Seeing how they were no doubt heading in the same direction, they fell into step with one another. She tried to think of something- anything- she could say that would make his heart swell and he could feel proud of his completed role as a parent. No words came. In her mind, she was still wrestling with how to figure out Daemon before she ran out of time to ever consult the matter freely again. She still drew up nothing to explain her uncle and his persnickety lusts. Viserys respected her silence as nervous jitters and smiled his support as he kept quiet with her.

Suddenly he raised a hand in gesture and said, "Ever at your side to protect you, that one."

Rhaenyra dreaded understanding what he meant. Ser Cristen Cole was standing diligently in the arched doorway. He was supposed to be scrutinizing every guest to intimidate potential troublemakers into behaving that night, but she could see from his listless stare that he was doing his job haphazardly.

She doled out a smile and said to Viserys, "I will join you in a minute. I want to have a word with my knight."

Scarcely an unusual request given that Rhaenyra and her sworn protector had been inseparable for over two years- until recently. There was no time for anyone in court to notice their drastic rift. Viserys went on alone, sensitive to his solo entrance and grumbling about what was holding up Alicent. Cristen noticed Rhaenyra excuse herself from company. Was that anxiety that flashed in his eyes when he supposed she was coming over to speak to him?

For the sake of the gods, she thought despondently. This has gone far enough. There is no reason we have to carry on like this.

"Ser Cristen," Rhaenyra greeted him. She kept her tone reluctant in case he spurned her address of him.

"My princess," he returned. He kept staring into the doorway.

Rhaenyra decided at the last minute she had no amends to make with her first-time lover. It was him who decided to ruin it by asking the world of her when he knew the request was outlandishly selfish. The relationship could end amicably if he realized that the situation was far beyond her control even if she had wanted to run away with him. She resumed walking past him into the grand ballroom. They wouldn't dine for hours, but she was already being swept into the room by the aroma of roasted meats and pressed wines.

"I did something…"

She heard the words, but they were so arbitrary she presumed they came from a far off conversation. It took her several moments to reach the conclusion that her spurned lover was actually confiding in her. She turned around and found him staring at her with fear in his eyes.

"What do you mean you 'did something'?" She was too intrigued not to take the bait.

Cristen surveyed the hall before stepping forward, eliminating the space between them. Rhaenyra was anxious out of her mind. There was only one dishonorable thing Cristen had ever done in his life, and she knew that what he was about to say had something to do with it.

"I didn't exactly confess it; someone had already guessed what we did…I had no choice but to confirm what was already common knowledge. In doing so, I was forgiven and pardoned for my treachery."

Rhaenyra was dumbstruck. "Who knows? Who is it, Cristen? Cristen?"

He wouldn't answer. It wasn't that he couldn't answer, but that he was choosing not to. Suddenly it dawned on Rhaenyra that Cristen was using this moment to let his true colors show after her rejection of him. Not only did someone know her deepest secret, but Cristen was in on it with this other person to make her suffer for it. She was about to find out to what extent.

"So what? You told me this because you want to help me now?" she challenged.

"Yes," he replied with gas-lighting tranquility. "I saw the error of my ways: the egregious sin I committed that night."

She scoffed. "Egregious sin! That is what you are calling it now?"

He went on. "But you have not. That being said, as your sworn protector it is my duty to protect you from any danger that may pose a threat to you: even if that threat is yourself. I am going to ensure you are safe from your own natures and that they will not lead you astray from your duties to the realm."

"You will be doing no such thing," she said vehemently. "You mean to say you are going to be the whore police? Save me from my deceptive and cheating nature? How ridiculous."

"All I am saying is that you will stay faithful to Laenor. It is not too much to ask."

He was the perfect monster: taking a sexual experience they both consented to and making her a whore for it. He was abusing her with his feigned generosity, and she saw how proud he was thinking he had her subdued. She didn't know who the hell knew about her tryst with her knight, but did it matter? The king himself could not be convinced that she was anything but a maiden, so what was one other person that tried to convince him? Besides that, if Viserys wouldn't believe that she did it with Daemon, never in the name of the seven would be believe she did it with a goldcloak instead. He would think the confessor was merely making bluster off the original story to make a jape.

Cristen was eagerly awaiting her response. He must have practiced this all day: prepared to turn around any defense she made back on her while keeping a placating smile on his face. She decided she would end this infuriating nonsense with a comeback to which there was no retaliation.

"And you can stay faithful to your hand. I am sure it is a very generous lover for you."

With that she turned on her heel and stalked off.

(The wedding feast commences, leading up to the moment when Rhaenyra says her most memorable line to Daemon.)

"Then take me to Dragonstone and make me your wife."

For the first time in twenty-eight years, Daemon had no idea what to do. He knew Rhaneyra was simply playing with the irony of the scenario; all he need to was smirk and shuffle off to entertain more of the party. Moving on with his life without destroying it for everyone in the seven kingdoms was the easiest thing in the world to do. Although, it was not like him not to put his own interests first. His defense was simply that if one does not assert their best interest, no one will do it for them.

As he began the motion of curtly excusing himself, an impulse that placed him at the center of the universe drew a greedy hand forward so that it cupped the princess's cheek. Her eyes flickered away briefly. In crestfallen agony, he worried the moment was about to extinguish itself before he looked as well and realized the bride's father was staring them down from the grand dais.

Rhaneyra was not turning against him, but welcoming in as an accomplice instead. Her bright gaze seemed to say, "Our common enemy is watching us. You must speak fast!"

Daemon despised the frivolous art of dancing, but he compelled his feet to rock back and forth to make the encounter less conspicuous. When they were both rocking in a slowly orbiting circle, he said in high Valyrian, "If I dissolve your marriage now to Laenor, then Viserys will disinherit you and replace you with Aegon. I love you too dearly to watch you lose your crown for me."

Rhaenyra kept rocking without speaking. Daemon decided to continue quickly before she truly absorbed the weight of his confession to loving her.

"You and I will both have to remarry to lovers not of our choosing- but they will not last. You will have to trust me on this. Once they are no more, then our time will come and we shall never be separated again. If you can wait for me, Rhaenyra, then we can have all that we can dream of. Instead of competing for our places to rule, we will be the only ones left standing."

There was no saying for sure if his allusions towards power were ambitious or solely meant to reassure Rhaenyra by assuaging her deepest fears over being passed over in favor of Aegon. Whatever it meant, Daemon's imagined future did not include a spotlight with the new queen's child sons.

"So you promise me nothing," Rhaenyra concluded, still in high Valyrian.

"Then I will promise you this: tonight I will bind you to me in the eyes of gods and men."

"…Do you mean-"

"Yes," he interrupted, wishing not to be reminded of his shortcoming on that fateful night. "Tonight I will make you my wife in the only way that I can."

She looked away for a moment, which made him assume she was reluctant. Then he saw that she was examining her father on the dais. His eyes had been burning holes through both of them since they paired up for an innocent dance.

"He will not be easy to fool," she pointed out, but not with resignation. "We will have to slip away soon. Once the Dance of Driftmark starts, people will be moving about so rapidly that he will not be able to track us."

"Yes," he agreed.

That dance was but a few minutes away. Rhaenyra was so eager that he wondered for a scarce moment how she was not more nervous. All virgins were reserved at first, and that was what made them so delectable to Daemon's taste. He tried to remember if he sensed the same sense about her when their kissing nearly led to coupling.

"Daemon?"

She said his name again, and he bit back another sigh of exasperation upon hearing it. To hell with his bizarre doubts! The woman he wanted to be with wanted him too, and he was wasting it!

"I'm sorry, love. What did you say?"

"…I asked you if you knew a place where we can…"

"Yes," he whispered tenderly. "I know a place. Matter of fact, it is right underneath our feet."

Rhaenyra's eyes flickered down as though she could see it through the stone floor. "I never knew there was anything down there. What is going to happen after?"

"After..? Well…I might just take you to Dragonstone and make you my wife. I might not be able to help it."

She melted into his erotic admission. He gave her brief instructions in strict Valyrian on how to get to the secret solar. Mainly because Viserys was watching, he broke away from Rhaenyra and chose a new dance partner. She happened to be Laena Velaryon: sister to the groom. He had no issue killing a dance with her. She was well educated and courteously flirtatious- which were dime a dozen traits in highborn ladies- but she also possessed a streak of creativity and fun.

"I speak a little Valyrian as well," she said mid-dance.

"You do? Were you eavesdropping?"

Laena scoffed in good humor as though the accusation was beneath her consideration. "I heard not what you said, only that it was in Valyrian."

"Ah. A lovely lost language, isn't it?"

"Indeed. It is up to us to keep it alive and passed on to our children. Old Valyria should never die in its entirety. Language keeps what is lost restored to us."

Laena was an excellent conversationalist. At first Daemon spoke to her to know for certain if she had been eavesdropping, but now he found himself enjoying her in the way he imagined every man did. He almost smirked visibly when he realized she would be the most ideal match for him when his mourning period for Rhea was over. His mind was heavy on Rhaenyra, but his sensible side was capsized by the what-if. Despite what he said, he couldn't elope with Rhaenyra to Dragonstone. It would take time before that dream materialized, yet why did it feel so inevitable? He had a hunch about these things and through pure serendipity he was always right.

Best not look at me like that, Laena Velaryon. It may just cost you your life.