As the years passed, so did the season change. Winter did not last seventeen years as they had feared, and when spring began to raise its head and breath its warm air upon the realm, everyone released a collective sigh of relief. By the time spring returned, Daenon was already racing around terrorising the squires, fill of vibrant energy. He only calmed for his mother and the king, Bran, who always seemed so calm and still that it was impossible not to feel obligated to be the same. For everyone else, however, Daenon simply could not be tamed. He was never bad, merely mischievous, and often led the other children in numerous pranks which had everyone else roaring with laughter save for the poor victim of their jests. It was all harmless, and Daenon's bright grin often soothed any ire towards him. He had his mother's hair, pale white and curling, as well as her eyes though his were a deeper shade of purple with flecks of gold hidden within them, visible whenever under sunlight. They were almond shaped, like his father's, and also like his father, Daenon possessed the olive skin which easily tanned under the sun. He was handsome even at four. When he grew into a man, Rhaena suspected he would break hearts.
It was a few days shy of his fifth birthday that word came to her that Ilyan had finally returned. He had thought to have been lost for a time, but the Stargazer had been sighted returning to familiar seas, and heavily laden with loot and treasure. When he sent a message to her to meet him at their cove, Rhaena was not alone. When Ilyan had leaped from his skiff and went running towards his princess, a child had suddenly looked out from behind her skirts, cautious and wary. Ilyan staggered to a halt, staring at the boy who had his mother's looks. He did not dare think, but upon looking up at Rhaena, she had nodded her head tentatively. "He is yours. Daenon, greet your father. He has finally come home from his voyaging." Daenon glanced up at his mother, frowning deeply before stepping in front of her. Father or not, he had no intention of allowing any harm to come to his mother. This man was a stranger to him, and therefore could not be trusted.
"I am Daenon Xenos Targaryen, son of Princess Rhaena Targaryen of Dragonstone." Puffing his chest in order to make himself stand taller, Daenon gripped the wooden sword that was slipped through his belt. "If you mean to steal my mother again, then I shall have to beat you!" Gaping at the boy, Ilyan allowed his words to wash over him until all at once, he threw back his head and laughed. The sound echoed throughout the cove, bounding from one cliff face to another. Once his laughter was spent, Ilyan strode forwards and before Daenon could recover his wits, swept the boy up into his arms to toss him into the air, ignoring his protests before catching him again.
"If you are not my son, then I am a crab. That's your mother's fire in you, boy. Good, but you have my salt in your blood too. The ocean is in you, and with it a storm. Best temper that storm of yours, I'll not refrain from putting you over my knee even if this is our first meeting." Stunned by the bearded man's words, Daenon blinked at him as he watched dark eyes soften whilst a warm smile then pressed a kiss to his brow. "My son." Enthralled, Ilyan extended his hand towards Rhaena, and Daenon watched in amazement as his mother melted before his eyes, taking his father's hand and allowed him to pull her against him and wrap her tightly in his embrace whilst holding the boy close. He breathed heavily, choking upon emotion and even displayed a few tears as he kissed both. "I've been gone too long."
"Yes, you have." Rhaena agreed as she stroked her lover's face. "But that does not matter now. Come. I have prepared a feast for us. It is Daenon's nameday soon, we should celebrate early." Nodding his head, Ilyan did not put down the boy even as he dropped his arm from around Rhaena's shoulders and instead, entwined his fingers with hers. Daenon continued to observe his mother with the man whom she insisted was his father. She was very different with him. Smiling and resting herself against him, brushing her hand against his arm, listening to his stories and seemingly more at peace here in this little cave than anywhere else in the world. Daenon had never thought of his mother as unhappy, but seeing her now, he realised that all this time she had always been missing something, and it had been his father. Perhaps he will give this man a chance. Seeing as how well he seemed to treat his mother, Daenon saw no reason to confront him and demand to know his intentions with his mother at the moment. There was a potent sense of honour inside that little boy, and he was determined to see that his mother was not mistreated.
As a gift, Ilyan removed his own dragonbone hilted dagger and gave it to his son for a gift, telling him how he had fought a tyrant prince for it and won. Unable to help himself, Daenon adored stories, especially ones filled with adventure and valour, and soon enough he was sat upon his father's lap and utterly entranced as he talked of his adventures. Daenon went to sleep to the sound of his father's voice, curled against him as Ilyan then took to stroking at his hair. He had a son. He marvelled at the sight of him, flesh and blood made from his own, and Rhaena had carried and raised him all this time. He loved her. He told her so, whispering it quietly as she too stroked her son's head. She smiled, looked up, then kissed him. Ilyan knew this meant she loved him too. Filled with incandescent joy, he shared a kiss with his lover before carrying the boy to the blankets and furs so that he could rest comfortably. Then, taking Rhaena by the hand, he led her out of the cave and made love to her on the sand.
It felt good to be filled with him once again, and Rhaena took everything he would give her. When his seed spilled inside her, she prayed it would quicken as it had with Daenon and give her another child of theirs. She would not mind it at all. Bran had altered the law before Daenon had been born, decreeing that children from unions outside of wedlock could be claimed legitimately by either parent. As Rhaena was the head of her House, she claimed her son independently of any man, and no one dared call Daenon a bastard either to her face or behind her back. They knew better than to dare tempt her wrath. Contented with her life, Rhaena smiled as Ilyan kissed her longingly and pressed himself against her once more, already renewed in his ardour and wanting her again. She did not protest.
Outside of their coupling, Rhaena and Ilyan spoke of many things. Their lives were not yet compatible, and if it were known that Ilyan were anywhere near Westeros, he would be captured and hung for the pirate he was. Not even pirate kings could escape the hangman's noose. So instead, Ilyan promised to return often, whenever he could, so that he could see his son and his princess, and perhaps in a number of years when no one knew who the Pirate King was or what he looked like, he could style himself as a rich man from the Free Cities and be with Rhaena openly then. She liked his promises, and vowed herself to wait for him. Sharing in one final kiss, the lovers then rose and dressed themselves, returning to where Daenon slept utterly ignorant of his parents' fornications. He awoke to the smell of food, rising to find his father cooking fish for them over the fire. When he'd looked up, Ilyan smiled and invited his son to come and help him, teaching him how to properly debone and gut a fish as well as cook them. Eager to show his father that he was not afraid of nasty, smelly things, Daenon strode forwards and promptly sat down to learn.