Chapter 1: Enough

The weight at his hip still felt unfamiliar. Daemon had yet to accustom himself to carry a sword, much less the legendary Dark Sister. He had to admit that it still took great effort to appear nonchalant with the sword strapped to his hip. The stares he received from servants and lords threatened to put a flippant grin on his lips. Ordinarily, he did not care for what such displays did to his image. However, this was different. It was not for himself that he showed restraint, but for the blade. Dark Sister deserved reverence, and he had to make sure that his image did the blade justice. At least until his deeds would prove him worthy of it.

The blade had been bestowed upon him just a few days ago. The Old King Jaehaerys, his grandfather, had seen the blade as a fitting reward for Daemon's knighting. At just ten and six years of age, Daemon has achieved knighthood at a fairly young age. The king had considered that Daemon's prowess merited a special reward. Now, the Valyrian steel blade hung from his hip.

Not surprisingly, Daemon had been ecstatic to receive the blade. He has hoped for it to be a turning point in his life. No longer would he be seen as a reckless child, but now a man and warrior worthy of respect. However, reality was often disappointing. Daemon's brother, almost ten years his elder, had the opposite reaction. Instead of finally recognizing his brother's worth, Prince Viserys bemoaned the development.

"Gods be good" Daemon had heard his brother lament. Now, to the young knight's chagrin, Viserys spoke of marriage for Daemon. He had heard his brother petition their father to start looking for a match. Viserys argued that it would be good for Daemon, that it would "temper his humors."

Daemon stood still for a moment and gave a loud sigh. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the servants and some minor lords scurry away. Daemon believed his knighthood would convince his brother to keep him by his side, yet it seemed that Viserys was only set on sending him away. Daemon gave a low chuckle; his brother had summoned him today. The conversation they were certain to have was one Daemon would not relish.

It seemed that not even a knight wielding a legendary sword was enough for his brother.

Nevertheless, he steeled himself and continued his way to Viserys' bedchambers. If his brother was set on getting rid of him, then Daemon was not going to make a painless experience. Clad in newfound resolve, the prince made his way to his brother's chambers. What he considered to be the first battlefield of his fledgling knighthood.

A battle is not what Daemon found.

It was not often that the young Targaryen prince was left speechless. Whether it was because of his cavalier attitude or his impulsive behavior, he usually was on the giving end of surprises. This was not one of those times. Daemon had walked into his brothers' chambers expecting an unsavory confrontation with his elder brother. At worst talks of marriage and at best more admonishment of whichever recent actions Viserys found reprehensible.

Therefore, walking into the biggest grin he had ever seen on his brother took him off guard. He had been too stunned to say anything before his brother briskly came his way. With strength Daemon seldom saw his brother use, Viserys clapped him on the shoulder several times before leaving his hand on him. It was a brotherly affection Daemon had grown unused to.

"Brother!" the elder Prince exclaimed. "It is good to see you here. There is someone I want you to meet."

Daemon blinked a few times, slowly coming to realize what was going on. If he remembered correctly, Aemma was with child. Then he noticed his brother's wife. She was in their bed, thick covers draped over her body. Her expression was tired, drained. Nevertheless, Daemon could see a bright smile grazing her lips. That and a tiny bundle resting in her arms.

"Oh" Daemon thought. The anger he armed himself with suddenly disappeared and left him rather distorted. He did not hear his brother's next words, yet he turned to face him. He looked up at him, his elder brother was still a bit taller than Daemon. Viserys had always been an affable man, yet today he was glowing. Daemon had never seen his brother so happy. It caused a lump to form in Daemon's throat.

"A most joyous occasion," Daemon said, turning to face Aenma and giving her a small nod "for both of you."

Viserys gave his brother a bemused look, almost as if Daemon's response did not match whatever Daemon had not listened to. Or perhaps he had expected his younger brother to be more combative. Both options were equally likely. However, Viserys did not comment on it and simply shook his head in amusement.

"Come!" he exclaimed with excitement as he turned towards his wife. "Come meet your nice!" he repeated. "We sent for you when Aemma entered her labors. However, the maids were not able to find you in your chambers."

Viserys was aware of Daemon's visits to the Street of Silk. However, his usual disapproving tone and exasperated eyes were nowhere to be seen. He was too happy to care. Entranced with his newly born child.

Daemon followed his brother to the foot of the bed where Aemma lay. However, the younger prince hesitated and stopped a few steps behind his elder brother. He did not know what to make of the situation.

Viserys picked up the small bundle from Aemma's arms, giving many assurances of how careful he would be with the newborn. Then, he stood there for a moment, blissfully looking down at the babe he cradled. Before turning to Daemon, the recently made father put a small kiss on his child's forehead. As he approached Daemon, he could only see that his happiness had magnified.

"Brother. Daemon" Viserys called as he looked down at his child. "Meet your niece, Rhaenyra." Without hesitation, Viserys handed the child to his younger brother. Daemon gingerly took the small bundle and genuinely looked at the child for the first time. Even with the characteristic pink of babies, the child still had the Targaryen features.

The babe made a strange gurgling sound that caused Daemon to look up at his brother in alarm. What he found was the same placid smile Viserys had worn the moment he walked into the room. That and a complete lack of worry. A startling realization took hold of Daemon.

Today, his brother trusted him completely. Today, with this babe in his arm, Daemon was enough for Viserys.

Daemon stood in the Godswood, enjoying the brief moment of solitude it offered. As expected, his return to King´s Landing had not been without uproar. Daemon smirked to himself. It was to be expected. He had left without warning and permission. The prince had expected Viserys anger when he left and had all but confirmed his suspicions of it with his arrival.

Between the admonishing tone of his brother, and the stares of the courtiers and lesser nobles, Daemon had grown weary. The Godswood offered some respite. The prince did not especially like the place, but the mostly southern lords in the capital found themselves unnerved by the old gods. Truth be told, Daemon preferred these old northern gods to the tedious Faith of the Seven.

Part of Daemon had hoped that his homecoming would be different. The foolish hope that Viserys would now clearly recognize the worth he had not seen a few years ago at Daemon's knighting. That his exploits away from Kings Landing would provide the proof Viserys needed to keep Daemon by his side. However, his absence had seemed to only entrench his older brother's low opinion of him.

Daemon gave a relaxed sigh. It had been long since he had been in the halls of the Red Keep. Daemon thought it could have not been less than a year, but he was never one to keep a precise eye on the dates. The reason for his absence had been simple enough. A young knight ought to find adventure and renown, something that seemed to be in an ever-lowering supply for westerosi knights. The peace of old king Jaehaerys had kept the blades of the knights of the realm dry and dull.

However, Daemon had something most did not, a dragon. When Caraxes had grown large enough to cross the Narrow Sea, the young prince wasted no time in taking to the sky. If he could not find renown in Westeros, he would do so in Essos.

It had been easy enough. Most of the Free Cities welcomed him with open arms. They would open their palaces and pleasure houses. Invite him to feast and celebration. Of course, all of it was on account of Caraxes. Daemon was under no illusion that the lords of the Free Cities would never show him an ounce of their hospitality if he had no dragon with him.

Nevertheless, the young prince sought to thank them for said hospitality. To show his gratitude, Daemon burned pirates and cleared raiders. He accompanied their armies into battle and helped them keep the peace at home. Even so, he was careful to keep out of the politics between the Free Cities. He was well aware that his actions in one city could close the doors in another one. So, Daemon never went to war for the Free Cities, he never helped them topple a rival city.

In any case, Daemon, having recently celebrated his 18th nameday, now had a wealth of experience that far surpassed that of many westerosi knights ten years his elder. That brought a certain satisfaction to Daemon.

The young Targaryen was taken out of his musings by an unexpected tug on his lower right leg. Curious, Daemon lowered his gaze expecting a small animal. Indeed, what he found was a small animal of sorts. Supporting themselves on his right leg was a child no older than 2 years of age. Daemon knew who they were. The platinum blonde hair and lilac eyes made it clear.

"Little Dragon," he said in Valyrian. Rhaenyra, his niece, did not pay him any mind and her gaze began to scan the Godswood. Daemon raised an eyebrow in amusement. It seemed the Princess did not care for him. He did not know what exactly the Princess wanted. The minds of children were a mystery to him. However, one clear thing is that the child had no remote interest in her uncle. It seemed like she wanted to stand, so she simply used his leg to support herself.

Daemon stared at his niece, befuddled. He did not know what to make of this small person. The Prince had never liked children. They always carried with them an eerie smell, and their hands were oft sticky and covered in mysterious substances. At that moment, he could see the little hands spreading said unknown substance across his britches. Moreover, he never knew what to make of these smaller creatures, their thoughts alien to him. Others called it "the innocence of youth." To him, it was just confusing and bothersome.

Almost as if she was reading his thoughts, Rhaenyra looked up at him and gave a wet gurgle and a screech that Daemon would have not found amiss on a battlefield. The child then released his leg and raised her arms at him, another of those wet sounds coming from her mouth.

Despite himself, Daemon found himself amused. Even taking into account his general awkwardness around children, he found that they were brighter than most of the sycophants at court. Most children were sensitive enough to hide away when they saw him, as opposed to many of the minor lords that approached him in an attempt to seek his favor. However, this child was something else. It did not appear scared, but rather petulant. It seemed she wanted up, and it did not matter who Daemon was or what he wanted. Almost as if the confirm his thoughts, the child made another sound this time opening and closing her hands for emphasis.

"Little dragon indeed," Daemon thought with a smirk.

The constant clasping of her hands and movement of her arms unbalanced the Princess. With a surprised look to her, Rhaenyra began to fall backward. Without thinking, Daemon knelt and stopped the falling child with a hand on her back. Rhaenyra was unperturbed by what had happened rather than unaware of it, Daemon felt she was expecting someone to catch her.

In any case, another gurgling sound came from the child as she extended her arms to Daemon once more. The prince considered it for a second but relented. He scooped up the child into his arms, producing a squeal of delight from the little Princess.

Daemon wrinkled his nose. There it was the queer smell he had been expecting. It was not entirely unpleasant; he just did not necessarily want it near him. The Princess however seemed unaware or uncaring of his discomforts. Something else had occupied her attention. It was no surprise that her attention shifted to the first shiny things she had seen, and her little hands now grasped at the silver brooch Daemon wore on his chest.

The piece of jewelry was nothing impressive, a memento from Daemon's travels in Essos. Although Daemon had brought many grander treasures from his travels, he had found none of them fit him. In his mind, the gaudy and overtly ostentatious jewelry made him look ridiculous. It did not project power, but rather insecurity. The simple pin was austere enough that it fit him, and the Princess seem to share his tastes. Another unintelligible sound came from the child as she continued to reach for the brooch.

Daemon had no real attachment to the pin. He had simply worn it on a whim. He removed it from his chest but did not hand it over to the child. Instead, he just looked at the wrangling Rhaenyra, holding the small metal object just out of her reach.

"Calm yourself, little dragon" he commanded in an even tone. The child did not respond, so Daemon began to pull to pin away and increased the severity of his stare. It seemed the child started to take notice, yet continued its babbling. "A dragon does not fret, little one" the prince warned.

Rhaenyra stared at him with an almost inaudible babble. Daemon thought he could see understanding entering her eyes. Slowly, the little Princess stopped wrangling her arms. Her silent yet curious eyes fell on her uncle.

Satisfied, Daemon handed the item to the Princess. The girl snatched the brooch with a swiftness Daemon did not think possible. Once in her hands, Rhaenyra did what every infant would. She put the whole thing in her mouth. Or at least, she tried too. Valiant as her efforts were, the piece of jewelry was just too big. Nevertheless, Daemon could not help a small grin at the spectacle.

"Come, little dragon. Let us find your mother" he said in Valyrian and walked away from the Godswood.

It did not take long. As Daemon expected, Aemma and an entourage of maids had been turning the Red Keep over in search of the missing Princess. When the queen saw Daemon, her expression was washed with relief, closely followed by curiosity.

"Cousin!" she exclaimed while approaching him. "I thank you for finding her. We do not understand how she keeps evading the maids. It appears she has a knack for mischief."

Upon hearing her mother´s voice, the Princess in Daemon's arms became excited. The mostly quiet mumble that had been coming from Rhaenyra quickly evolved into unintelligible babbling.

As the queen came closer, Daemon noticed a smirk painting her lips. "Although I must say, I did not expect to find you like this."

Daemon shrugged, Rhaenyra's head bobbing slightly with the motion. She did not seem to mind. "What can I say, cousin? This little one has a dragon's will." His nonchalant expression changed into a smirk. "Better keep a closer look on her," he said while handing the Princess over to her mother.

The queen gave him a wry smile. "Viserys says she reminds him of you. To his dismay." The queen was going to say something else, but she was interrupted by the gurgles coming from the princess. Awfully loud for her small body, Daemon thought.

To his surprise, Aemma seems to understand the creature. "Yes, yes, Rhaenyra" she cooed. "That is Uncle Daemon."

Daemon raised his eyebrow in both surprise and question. "You…. Understand that thing?" It was also at that moment that Daemon began to pay closer attention to the grunts coming from Rhaenyra, realizing that some of them had a passing resemblance to his name and the sound "gunkle."

Aenma gave him a look of annoyance, yet there was a measure of levity beneath her eyes. Unlike her husband, she understood Daemon's dry and sardonic wit. Viserys would have taken Daemon's comment at face value and would have been offended. However, Aenma understood Daemon meant did not mean any damage, even if he did mean to provoke.

"It requires patience cousin. Something I believe you are in short supply of" Aenma commented as she lowered her gaze to her daughter. "What is this?" she asked when noticing the brooch, still in Rhaenyra´s mouth.

"A gift" Daemon explained. "From my travels in Essos." Involuntarily, he shifted his feet. Something about admitting it made him a tinge uncomfortable. He was not used to revealing this kind of "softness."

Aenma raised both eyebrows in surprise but smiled. "Does Rahenyra have a doting uncle?" she asked in a playful tone while looking down at her daughter, snuggling herself into Rahenyra.

Daemon gave a sheepish smile

"Perhaps" Daemon answered. He turned his gaze towards his niece. "And perhaps we should endeavor to bring your father to his wit's end together, little dragon" he continued in Valyrian. His reward was a look of utter confusion, one that he had yet to see in the young Princesse's face.

After a moment, he turned a questioning eye on Aemma, "she does not speak Valyrian?" His tone was harsh, perhaps a bit more than the situation demanded. "Does my brother not teach her the language of our forebears?"

Aemma raised her head at Daemon. She did not seem to mind Daemon's tone and looked rather regretful. She gave the Prince a meaningful frown. "Viserys…. Viserys believes she is too young" she eventually answered.

"You do not agree." It was not a question. Yet, Daemon was still curious about this development. Aemma was not one to hold the ancient Valyrian traditions in high esteem. It is something she shared with her husband.

Aemma shook her head and turned downwards towards her daughter, snuggling into her once again before speaking. "While I might be an Arynn the blood of the Dragon still flows through me, cousin." There was sorrow in her voice, in her posture. "Yet, my mother never thought to teach me the language. I do not know if I would appreciate it like you do, cousin, but I feel as though I was never given the choice."

Daemon nodded and bit back a comment about the "civilized" nature of those from the Vale. He might look to provoke, but he was not cruel.

Aemma gave a defeated shrug. "But then again, Viserys does not understand. He was taught Valyrian from birth. He does not know what it feels like to miss a piece of your ancestry." She sighed "I do not want to make that choice for her. In the future, she might see the language as antiquated and tedious, but that is her choice to make."

"Viserys is a fool" Daemon cut in with narrowing eyes. His animosity was born from a conflict born long before the birth of Rhaenyra. The disagreement between a brother closer to Valyria and the other closer to Westeros.

Aemma gave him an apprehensive smile. However, she quickly looked away. Daemon noticed there was hesitance in her eyes. With a short cough, she started to speak again. "I know you are fond of our ancestral language." She turned to look at him "will you do me a favor? Will you speak to her in your tongue?"

"I think your brother is rather fond of his niece"

Viserys blinked. He turned to face his wife. She had not looked up from her embroidery. He blinked again. "I am sorry?" he asked with a dry throat.

"I think that Daemon is rather fond of Rhaenyra."

Again, she did not look up from her embroidery. The casualness with which she has responded almost insults Viserys. However, he was too shocked to truly find anger inside of him. He found that anxiety was very much present. Scorching heat rose from his fingertips all the way to his temple. He suddenly felt the sudden need to sit. Luckily, there was a chair nearby.

With an unceremonious thump, Viserys dropped into the chair. Even as young as Rhaenyra was, Viserys had already noticed some similarities in character with his younger brother. The blood of the dragon ran thick through both of them.

"Gods be good" he lamented as he brought a hand to his temple. The mere thought of two Daemons skulking around the Red Keep gave him a headache.

"This could be a good thing," Aemma said, finally looking up from her embroidery.

Viserys gave a mirthless laugh "pray to tell me, good wife, how this can be a good thing?" Upon noticing the frown on his wife, Viserys moderated his tone. Yet, he did not back down. "I cannot imagine the corrupting influence my brother could have on our daughter. I ought to forbid them from ever meeting." Viserys was about to chuckle when he saw his wife's frown deepen.

"I am serious, Viserys," she said with seriousness yet gentleness as well. "You spoke of wanting Daemon to marry, of settling down and tempering his humors. Time with Rhaenyra can show him what kind of life awaits him." She shrugged "It might even make him look forward to it…"

Viserys could not help but laugh at that comment. "Daemon? Growing a desire to settle down because of a child?" He shook his head with incredulity. "No, Aemma. Daemon is no woman, and his blood can never be tamed. Something even I realize far too late, as it took his escape to Essos for me to see it." He stopped and gave a bitter sigh "all we can hope is that marriage provides a chain strong enough to keep him grounded."

Aemma remained silent. It was clear to Viserys that she had been displeased by his response. Therefore, the conversation remained with him until the next morning. It occupied his mind as he walked through the Red Keep and heard a laughing child. It had to be Rhaenyra. Viserys could not help a dumb smile creeping up his features. He loved his daughter.

He followed the sounds to the patio where the Princess usually broke her fast. He was expecting to find his daughter with another child of the court, or perhaps a younger maid that had taken to playing with the Princess. What he did not expect, was to find his younger brother entertaining his daughter.

Daemon looked his usual self, even when sprawled in a comfortable chair in the gardens. Impertinent, arrogant, fierce. However, his usual sardonic and provoking smirk seemed nowhere to be found. Instead, to Viserys´ surprise, a placid smile had taken its place.

Taken aback, Viserys took a moment to study Daemon before his younger brother could notice his arrival. The young Prince´s gaze was trained on the Princess. Daemon´s eyes, usually filled with a fierce fire, now look gentle and even genial.

With the conversation with Aemma still fresh in his memory, Viserys wondered if he had not given his wife enough credit. In any case, Viserys smiled.

Daemon could not refuse Aemma´s request. It had little to do with who had given the request, and even less to do with the creature in front of him. Rather, it was a matter of pride, of family, of duty. As a Targaryen, the child deserved to be brought up in the customs of their house. To Daemon, it was not a "choice," as Aemma has put it, but rather an obligation. Viserys and Aemma's mother had been negligent in their obligation. Daemon did not relish the chance to spend long hours of his day with a child, but it was a duty.

Said creature was currently mashing the finely made pastries on her plate. It seems it was not enough to have the finest bakers prepare treats, they also needed to be destroyed and sometimes discarded entirely. Daemon smirked; it was amusing if not a little disgusting.

"Most Dragons do not play with their food before eating it" Daemon admonished in Vlaryian. "It is unbecoming of their grandeur."

He might have as well farted for the look the child gave him. Utter confusion with a tinge of amusement marked Rhaenyra's face.

"Do not make that face, you look like a dog" Daemon continued.

Rhaenyra snorted and started to babble something unintelligible to Daemon's ears. Spit popped out in between the attempt at words and the laughter.

"Use words damn it!" In contrast to his harsh words, Daemon found himself having fun. Part of him expected himself, wanted himself, to be frustrated. Screaming matches with children were not something a Targaryen prince should find themselves enjoying. Yet, despite that, Daemon found that he enjoyed the interaction.

Anyone walking in would have found a shouting match made of gibberish, as neither of the participants understood the other. Daemon would make a snide comment in Valyrian that the Princess found endlessly amusing, despite not understanding a single word. She would return with a barrage of gurgles and babbles that Daemon had neither the ability nor patience to understand. Daemon would complete the cycle by retorting with another comment in Valyrian, most likely completely unrelated to what the Princess had said. It was a sort of madness Daemon realized.

As it was, the king himself was the first to stumble upon them, other than maids or servants. Daemon, too engrossed with his niece, did not notice him until Viserys had gotten an eyeful of the situation.

"Brother!" Viserys exclaimed with excitement. He then turned towards his daughter, who was clearly very happy to see him. "And my beloved daughter as well!" The little girl quickly bolted toward his father, who effortlessly scooped her up. "I see that you are having fun with your uncle" Viserys continued. "It fills my heart with joy to see you getting along with my daughter, brother" he finished while turning to his younger brother.

The screaming match just the day before had been bad, one of the worsts. Daemon had seldom seen his brother so angry. All the disapproval, embarrassment, and anger Viserys felt towards Daemon had come out in every word the older brother spat. Daemon expected to see the same in Viserys today. He had never been enough for his older brother and expected that to remain as true today as it had been yesterday.

However, that was not the case. Instead of the perpetually admonishing look Viserys usually carried to see his brother, the older Targaryen wore a pleasant smile. It was no doubt because of his daughter. Yet, Daemon felt strange on the receiving end of that smile. He did not fully understand what it meant.

"Indeed, brother" Daemon answered after a short moment of silence. "Strangely enough, I find myself enjoying the company of this little dragon" that last part he said in Valyrian.

Viserys chuckled "I mentioned to Aemma that, to my dismay, you and Rhaenyra have a similar temperament. The blood of the Dragon is thick in both of your veins." He shook his head dejectedly and gave a deep sigh. "Alas, I cannot find it in myself to be bitter about it. I do not even think I can consider it a misfortune."

Viserys walked toward his younger brother and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "It is a good thing for a family to love one another. That Rhaenyra will not only be loved by her parents, but her uncle as well, can only be a good thing." Then Viserys gave an uncharacteristic rueful smile. "I am sure that with my brother by her side, Rhaenyra will not only be safe but also happy."

The relationship between the brothers had always been strained. Perhaps it would remain that way forever. But Daemon understood something that day. The day Rhaenyra was born Visery´s handed him the babe with the utmost trust. Daemon was enough that day. Today echoed that event from years ago. At least when it concerned his niece, Daemon was enough for his brother.