Aerion
"Did you mean it when you said you want to name our child Haegon if it's a son?" Daena asked him.
Aerion did not mean it. "You said your brother will want to use the name for his own son."
"Yes." Daena stared into his eyes with a knowing smirk on her face, which Aerion returned with a strained smile. He would not let her know. "But I have… had many brothers before. Aenys won't be mad if we use one of their names."
Aerion wrecked his brain trying to remember the names of the dead Blackfyres. "I'm not naming my son Aegon or Aemon."
"Not planning to… I barely remember them." Daena smiled sadly. "I want to name our son after one of my youngest brothers, Jaehaerys and Viserys."
"...Sure." Those were traditional Targaryen names. Aerion did not like them, but he saw nothing to complain about.
"But if it's a daughter, she'll be named Rohanne," Daena said matter-of-factly, "after my mother."
"That's a smallfolk name!" Aerion immediately protested.
"It's my mother's name. She gave her life to me, and this is the only thing I can do to repay her." Daena looked into his eyes— and Aerion saw there was steel. "Unless there are any other names equally important to you?"
Aerion snorted. "No. It's going to be a boy anyway." Although he could not pinpoint why, he never considered the possibility that it could be a girl ever since he learned about Daena's pregnancy.
...The dream, mayhaps?
"Hmm? What makes you so certain?" Daena stroked her swollen belly and smiled. "I think it's going to be a girl. At least, I hope it's a girl. It'll be easier for both of us."
"What do you mean?"
"If we have a boy, some will see him as Aenys' heir until he has a child of his own. I'll rather not have this trouble, especially with your position in court undecided yet." She smiled wryly. "It's quite a delicate situation here. We'll have to convince my family that you're no threat."
Aerion laughed. "I'm the biggest threat you have ever faced." He was, after all, the true heir of the Iron Throne. It was his right to sit on it with every other Targaryens gone. But he would bide his time, if only for Daena.
"Right," Daena smirked. "Try to put in as much effort when charming me in convincing them, and you'll become one of us in no time. But, my love… I want you to understand this," her voice lowered to a chill. "I can't protect you if you attempt to betray us. So don't."
She might as well pull the dagger to his neck again. Aerion knew that this was how she would always treat him: one moment declaring her unending love, and the next threatening him with death. This was just the nature of their relationship.
Daena Blackfyre was a woman with many faces, but he found all of them equally attractive. Aerion wanted to chase her, to see what other faces she had, until the day he finally wins against her.
But before that, he would do what he was most familiar with. "I'll never betray you," he promised solemnly.
Those purple eyes looked into his once again, the same shade of purple as his own. The two were so close that he could see his reflection in her eyes. Could those eyes reflect the truth he hid from her?
"You'll never betray me?" she repeated, those pretty eyes sharp and judging, her breath tickling his skin.
"Of course." Aerion smiled. He was not afraid to look into her eyes, not afraid of her judgment. Because he was confident that she loved him.
Daena narrowed her eyes, then laughed. "Aerion, you're really bad at— wait…" She slowly stood up, her hands on her belly. "I think… something broke."
"Broke? You mean…" Aerion had watched enough times of his mother getting pregnant, so he understood what it meant.
"Yes." Daena nodded and shuffled towards the door… before falling to the ground.
"Daena!" he screamed. He tried to stand up, but all he did was cause the chains that bound him to shake, its metal pieces colliding with each other loudly.
"How funny… my legs feel like jelly," she said weakly. She put her hands to the ground and tried to force herself up, but her arms seemed to have lost their strength too. She tried to reach for the doorknob. But it was too high.
"Open the door! Open the door!" Aerion screamed with all his might, but nobody came.
"They won't hear you. I chose this room because it's soundproof." Daena turned to face Aerion. Though she was clearly in pain, there was still a smirk on her face. She slowly limpingly, crawled towards him. "I guess it's time to see if there's any truth to your words."
"What are you doing?" he asked as Daena moved behind his chair. He desperately tried to turn his head to look at her, but all he managed was to look at the empty wall.
She did not answer him. He could hear her fiddling with her dress, before she sighed, "Found it."
"Daena?"
"Promise me you won't betray me." This was not a question, but an order.
"I won't! I promise!" How come she was still bothering with this when she could die?
A chuckle followed. "Fine, I'll release you."
A quick click. And he was free.
For a moment he only stared at the loosened metal chain in bewilderment, before he quickly recalled his priorities. He turned and gingerly picked up Daena, who smiled weakly at him, her face pale. "Go open the door. The key is here," She urged, putting a key into his free hand.
Aerion did not hesitate to open the door that had trapped him for more than half a year. Once he did, Daena told the men outside she was delivering, and they quickly arranged to take her to treatment.
"I won't let you die," Aerion swore before letting them take her away, holding her hand. "We're not finished yet." He had just managed to make her trust him.
"Don't worry, my mother gave birth to nine children, six of them twins. I'll be fine." She squeezed his hand reassuringly, before releasing him.
He was reluctant to take his eyes off her, but two fully armed knights stopped him from following her. "Back into your chambers."
Aerion glared at them. He recognised them as the same knights that served in the Golden Company with him before… they'd probably been spying on him for Daena since the start. "I'm her husband. Who are you to order me around?"
"You're our prisoner," the older one of the two knights said coldly, his glare on Aerion baleful. "If you resist, we'll be very happy to beat you into submission."
They must be jealous that Daena chose him instead of any other knights in the Golden Company. Aerion smirked.. "I'll wait here for her to give birth to my son… a trueborn Targaryen," he whispered maliciously.
Aerion saw the knights redden in anger. Then he stepped back into the room and closed the door himself. He laughed… but his laughter died down in a few seconds.
"...Daena," he murmured. He was lying if he said he wasn't worried. He remembered how the Dornish woman… how his own mother had died. Just for a worthless daughter…
He wanted the child, his son, but he wanted Daena even more. Because he was not done with her yet. Because he was only starting to earn her trust. Because he wanted to understand her.
...Because he loved her?
Aerion could not tell whether this was love. But regardless… he wanted her to be alive more than anything.
—
A day passed. Then another day. Then a week.
Aerion was getting anxious. Many times he screamed at the servants to let him see Daena, to know how she was doing, but they remained tight-lipped and ignored him.
Did she die?
Aerion nervously bit his lips. He knew what Daena's death meant for him. They all hated him… and Daena was the only person keeping him alive.
Would he die here, after enduring so much suffering? After he had convinced Daena to trust him?
The door creaked open. Slowly, carefully, the woman of his dreams walked through the door. "Aerion." She smiled brightly at him, a baby in her arms.
It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He jumped up and approached her. "Daena! You're alright?"
She nodded. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I bled after the delivery and was told to rest in bed for a few days. I'm completely fine now." She held out the babe towards him with a sly grin. "Meet your daughter."
Daughter?
Aerion stared at the babe blankly. It had a mop of silver-white hair and a pair of grape-like purple eyes, just like his own. As their eyes met, it chuckled happily, small, fat fingers reaching towards Aerion. The baby… her laughter was sharp and clear like a bell.
...Completely unlike the creature he had once seen in his dream.
"Rohanne Blackfyre," Daena whispered, "This is her name. As we have discussed."
It was a name he once hated. But now, looking at her… Aerion felt it was just right.
"Rohanne." he caught her small hand and shook it. "Nice to meet you."
She laughed.
—
"Not going to tie me up again?" Aerion asked later— much later, when they were on the ship returning to Westeros.
Since that day, Daena never had him restrained again. Still locked up in a room, but no more chains. And here, on this ship, she even took him out and let him feel the fresh wind after he complained about seasickness.
The night wind was amazing.
Daena smirked. "It's not like you can escape on this ship. And I know you won't leave me, my love."
"I won't." He took the chance to embrace her. Naturally, she leaned into him and put her head on his shoulders.
They stood there silently for a while, looking at the night sky. Thousands of stars were shining brightly, forming a sea of stars. Daena's gaze moved across the sky slowly, as if searching for something.
What are you looking for? Just when Aerion wanted to ask, Daena spoke first, "Do you think they're there? My parents and brothers?"
"There?" Aerion was confused for a moment but then realised. "The sky?"
"I grew up in Essos. I have heard many different religions trying to explain where people go after they die. I know the Faith of Seven says people go to Hell or Heaven, but I have heard a saying that people turn into stars, looking after us. I like this… so I can imagine Mother smiling at me every time I look into the night sky."
Aerion shivered. He would rather not have Maekar's and Dyanna's eyes looking down and judging him. "I don't think so. The dead are gone."
Daena chuckled sadly. "Of course you'll say that. But I want to think she'll be happy to see her granddaughter being named after her regardless."
Something about the way she spoke of her mother reminded Aerion of a conversation they had a long time ago. "Daena," he carefully said, "you once told me your mother died from an assassin."
"Yes. My youngest brothers died in the same attack. I was the only survivor." She was still staring at the sky. Aerion could not read her expression.
But he wanted to ask anyway. "If you don't mind… can you tell me what happened in detail?"
Daena turned to stare at him in surprise. When she smiled at him, he saw there were tears in her eyes. "I thought you'd never ask."
Then, she started to tell him her story.
"I was thirteen that year. We were leaving Tyrosh for the first time… we left through two different roads. Calla, Daemon, Haegon, and Aenys were with our uncle, and I, Viserys, and Jaehaerys were with Mother. I think they weren't expecting that… they planned to attack Calla, taking her out of the picture before she could master her sword."
"But instead, they found us. Arrows rained down suddenly, taking out our men. My mother screamed at us to stay inside the carriage, but my brothers… they picked up their swords when they heard the second wave of attack approaching."
"There were only five men. My brothers, they were nine… they must have thought that being the sons of the King Who Bore the Sword, they could defeat the cowardly assassins who only dared to come in the dark. And they met the same fate of my elder brothers on the Redgrass Field." Daena laughed dryly, tears spilling out from her eyes. "My mother, she must have wanted to protect the last children Father left her, but she didn't do anything but watch, because she had to protect me. She embraced me, covering my eyes, telling me not to look. Sheltering me from the bloodshed."
"But the assassins came for us all the same after they were done with my brothers. My mother kept holding me. They stabbed into her back, again and again, but she wouldn't let go of me. Wouldn't let them hurt me."
"Then suddenly a great light brighter than the sun shone through, and moments later all five of the assassins were dead. It was Calla's Crystal. She and uncle Aegor found us. It was only then Mother released me."
"There were wounds all over her body. I couldn't stop crying, but Mother didn't cry. She asked uncle Aegor to take care of us… with her last breath." Daena's dry laughter died down, and there were only tears. Aerion held her tightly, his heart aching.
Because he knew Dyanna Dayne would never choose to protect him over any of her children. Because he just realised how a mother could love her own child.
Aerion would never protect someone else with his life.
At that moment, he almost wished…
He almost wished that he was born a Blackfyre instead of a Targaryen.
—
The hostility of everyone in the Red Keep could not be made more apparent.
"Daena," a man with dark hair and purple eyes— Bittersteel hissed when he led them to the Throne Room, "what were you thinking?" He did not spare a glance towards Aerion.
"Bringing back the man you're searching for, and finding myself a good match." Daena winked, unaffected by Bittersteel's anger. "Oh, and giving birth to the next generation of House Blackfyre. Where's Calla?"
"Coming back from the Iron Islands. She should arrive in a few days," Bittersteel answered unhappily, "You're lucky that it's a daughter. Otherwise…"
"Yes, I know, uncle. I trust that you have designed a perfect solution with Aenys?"
Bittersteel glared at her. "You'll see."
On the Iron Throne, sat a man around Aerion's age with Valyrian features, a crown full of square-cut rubies upon his brows, and his sword— Blackfyre across his lap. Aenys Blackfyre.
...He wore the crown of the Conqueror?
No, it must be a fake. More importantly, he had no right to seat on the Iron Throne. It was Aerion's, and Aerion's alone.
But now Aerion must pretend. He and Daena knelt in front of the Iron Throne, Daena holding Rohanne.
"Sister, welcome back," The fake dragon opened, a warm smile on his face, "I heard that I have a new niece."
"Yes, we called her Rohanne." When Aenys gestured, Daena gladly handed their daughter to him. Aerion watched the scene nervously. If he tried to harm her because she was a Targaryen— was a half-Targaryen…
But Aenys did not harm her. He stroked Rohanne's hair, and she chuckled happily. Aerion felt a deep pang of jealousy. She was his daughter, his little dragon. She was not supposed to smile at anyone but he and Daena…
"After our mother, huh? Good name. She's adorable," Aenys said, turning his gaze to Aerion. The smile Aenys was having before dropped, however he still maintained a facade of friendliness. "And you… I heard that you're so in love with Daena that you willingly turned yourself to us and swore to serve us. Is that true?"
It was not true. "Yes," Aerion lied.
"All your siblings have been sent to the Night's Watch and the Faith." That was to Aerion's surprise. He assumed that they were all dead… "But for the love I held for my dearest sister, I would not do the same to you. However, as a princess, my sister couldn't marry a bastard. Therefore, I would legitimise you, Aerion Waters, as a member of your mother's house, House Dayne of Starfall, though any children Daena have will still bear the name of Blackfyre. Do you agree?"
Daena smiled encouragingly at Aerion. But he could not think, his head full of white-hot anger.
That was it? That was her solution?
To bear the name of that Dornish woman… was worse than being called a bastard.
Intellectually, a small part of him knew that he had to restrain himself, to refrain from lashing out.
But he rejected that. A dragon could lie, but a dragon could not stand for this insult.
"No," he answered.
Aenys stared at him in astonishment. Beside Aerion, Daena gripped his hand tightly and glared at him.
"No?" Aenys asked, "You must be mistaken. I said I won't let my sister marry a bastard. If you refuse, I have no choice but to… deal with you not so gently."
Daena shook her head slightly, her gaze on Aerion almost begging. For a moment of hesitation Aerion's heart was swayed, but he would not change her mind. Not even for her.
Because he was Aerion Brightflame. The rightful heir of the Conqueror. Dragonlord.
"No, I won't be a Dayne. I'm a Targaryen, a dragon." Aerion's words were loud and clear.
Right after the words were out of his mouth, Aenys' face darkened, and Daena's grip on Aerion's hand was so tight that it hurt. "He said that, Daena," Aenys muttered, "you know what I must do."
"Give me one more chance to convince him," Daena said quickly, her voice anxious and full of fury.
Aenys looked at Bittersteel, who shook his head. Aenys thought for a while, then sighed, "For the sake of the lovely niece you gave me, I'll give you another chance… but not today. Put him in the Black Cells."
Black Cells? Aerion stared at Daena in horror. When two goldcloaks came to take him away… she let go.
"Daena!" he cried out.
"Aerion," she whispered, her expression cold and her eyes hollow. "You shouldn't have betrayed me."
It was too late to regret what he did, as he was dragged away into the darkness.
