Daemon I 92AC
Daemon could not remember the last time he had been in the King and Queen's bed chambers. Their large bed was canopied and the quilts were embroidered with silver and bronze dragons that looked rather similar to Silverwing and Vermithor. Daemon's grandfather had called upon a few of his personal servants to light the three stone fireplaces that warmed the spacious connecting rooms before sending them off down the hall to clean Gael's chambers.
His grandmother, having been woken up by the family commotion, was yawning as she sat on the bed wearing a silk night robe. Aunt Jocelyn was by her side, and Daemon cursed in his mind that another member of the family had heard that Gael had dragged him out of his bed. Luckily Uncle Aemon wasn't here, hopefully he was still sleeping.
Jocelyn motioned for Gael to sit next to her and Alysanne on the bed while Daemon was forced to sit with his father on the small sofa that unfortunately faced Jaehaerys' tall armchair that appeared eerily similar in nature to the Iron Throne. His grandfather, despite his famously calm demeanor, always seemed to demand a kingly presence, and even in his disheveled state Jaehaerys Targaryen's form radiated power.
Daemon had known as soon as he recognized that his grandfather had woken up that he was in deep trouble. And he was proven right as his grandfather had been absolutely livid to wake up in the middle of the night. Daemon didn't remember the last time he had been witness to the King's cold fury.
"What in the Gods' name could have possibly made you think that putting shit in your Aunt's bed was a good idea?"
Daemon gulped. He struggled to form an answer when thankfully his grandfather's attention diverted.
"And you!" Jaehaerys looked over at Gael. "Your nephew commits a harmless prank and all of a sudden you're running down the hall, dragging him out of bed, yelling so loudly that you wake the entire castle?" The King shook his head in dismay. "You were raised to be a proper Princess of House Targaryen, not hysterical."
"Jaehaerys, please," Alysanne implored. "Our daughter was clearly tired and distressed. There is no need to berate her so. Can't this discussion be saved for the morning, it's the middle of the night."
"Father," Baelon interrupted. "I assure you that I have no intentions about letting Daemon go unpunished but I think that Mother is right. We are all tired and…"
Jaehaerys gestured with his hand for silence. "This shan't take long. All of our sleep has already been disrupted, might as well make some use out of it and resolve this mess. Gael…" Daemon's grandfather prompted.
Daemon glanced over at his Aunt. There were still tear tracks on her cheeks, her nose red and runny from crying. Gael looked far prettier when she wasn't sad, Daemon thought to himself, before wrinkling his nose in horror that such a thought had occurred to him.
"What do you want me to say, Father?" Gael looked confused.
"Tell your Father what happened," Aunt Jocelyn said soothingly, in an almost motherly tone, whilst Grandmother smiled down at her daughter.
Daemon knew that Gael had always been closer to Aunt Jocelyn than him and Viserys because of her bond with Rhaenys, yet he felt envy grow in his heart. His mother was dead and gone whilst Gael's still lived and breathed but Aunt Jocelyn loved and doted on the Winter Child like she would've a second daughter. No one, not Grandmother, not Aunt Jocelyn, not even his Septa Aunt Maegelle, had ever tried to be a mother figure to Daemon.
But he had Baelon, and as he watched the exchange between his Aunt and his Grandfather, Daemon couldn't help but feel grateful that the Spring Prince was his Father and not the Old King.
"I was about to go to bed when I noticed," Gael spoke softly before pausing and looking down at the bed. "It. And I knew that it was Daemon's work because of course he would do something like this and I just became so enraged that before I could think properly I was running down the hall and banging on his door."
"You could've just had the servants clear it up and spoke to your mother and I in the morning," Jaehaerys countered. "Truly was such a spectacle necessary?"
Gael's face turned red. And before Daemon could even blink her angry purple eyes had fixed upon him.
"You don't understand, Father!" Gael spewed, furious tears spilling from her eyes as her voice rose. "He does this everyday! Sure it's never been anything as callous as putting shit in my bed but everyday Daemon goes out of his way to make my life miserable!"
"Darling," it was the Queen who spoke up now, "I'm sure this can't be…"
She was cut off by Gael. "He ruins my papers I have to turn in after lessons. He pelts me with berries during our shared meals. He steals my walking staff as often as he can. He wrote bad words and drew vile images all over my copy of the Seven Pointed Star and the Septa made me write "I will not disgrace the book of the Gods" a hundred times as punishment!"
Daemon snorted as he recalled the memory in his mind. By far his personal favorite of the misdeeds that Gael had listed. The expression on the Septa's face was the funniest thing he had seen in moons.
"See!" Gael shouted. "He thinks it's funny!"
She was unpleasantly surprised to see that not only was Daemon grinning like a fool, but his Father Prince Baelon was also struggling to muffle his own laughter.
"It's not funny Baelon!" she insisted to her brother. "It really is not."
"Enough," Jaehaerys' voice boomed. "Both of you, enough!" The two Princes were quick to quiet. "Daemon," his Grandfather turned to him now. "My grandson, is this true, what your Aunt says?"
Daemon looked down at his feet. He did his best to quell his nerves and when he met the King's gaze he gave him one curt nod. Jaehaerys sighed and closed his eyes.
"I know that you are young, Daemon. And I know that it is normal for boys your age to have…" Jaehaerys struggled to find his words.
"Odd ways of expressing their feelings," Aunt Jocelyn suggested.
Jaehaerys nodded in agreement. "Yes, that is a good way to put it, Sister, thank you." He looked back at Daemon. "But there is a line. And tonight, you crossed that line."
"I understand, Grandfather," he said solemnly.
"But really son," Baelon interrupted. "The fact that you went through all of the effort and planning to pull something off as mean spirited and illogical as putting shit in your Aunt's bed is absolutely unacceptable. Your grandfather is completely right that you crossed a line, and I'm frankly ashamed because I thought I raised you better." Baelon sighed. "You're not allowed in the dragon pit nor in the training yard for a fortnight. That's your punishment from me along with whatever your Grandfather decides is fitting."
Daemon clenched his fists so tightly he could see the white of the bones. Hurt and resentment filled his body as his mind processed his father's words.
"I didn't intend on doing what I did. I wanted to scare Gael so I dressed up as a ghost and picked the lock on her door," he met Gael's eyes and noticed the panic that she tried desperately to hide. "But she wasn't there. Even though it was the middle of the night. Hardly more than two hours ago in fact," Daemon informed his grandfather before looking back at his Aunt.
"I was angry so I ran down to the stables and found a bucket full of whatever a squire had mucked out of a horse stall, carried it up to Gael's room and dumped it on her bed."
"You did all of this just because the original scheme you planned didn't work?" Gael asked incredulously.
Daemon banged his fist on the armrest of the couch, much to the rest of the family's shock. "Daemon is so annoying. Daemon never follows the rules. Daemon is just a little boy," he parroted in a rather poor imitation of Gael's voice. "That's what you're always telling Grandmother, Rhaenys, your handmaids, and all of your other little friends that you do your own scheming with." He said reverting back to his normal voice.
"That's not what I…" Gael tried to speak.
"You always act like you're so much older than I am when I'm only a year younger."
"Two years younger," Gael corrected under her breath.
"Fine, a year and a half," Daemon countered. "And you know what I'm actually not sorry about what I did because you go on and on about how I'm so immature and that I can't follow rules but you snuck out of your rooms in the middle of the night, and hypocrites deserve to be punished."
"Why you little bastard," Gael snarled, carefully rising to her feet and holding on to the pillow she had rested upon before the Winter Child, who Daemon thought looked quite pretty angry, chucked the red and black embroidered pillow that belonged to the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms at his head.
He caught the pillow. Daemon laughed because surely the Gods must have favored him for the look on Gael Targaryen's enraged face at the mere thought of being laughed at was more priceless than Valryian steel.
"Nice try," he smirked and stuck his tongue out at her.
"How are we kin?!" Gael buried her face in her hands in an act of frustration and then reached behind her and attempted to grab another pillow but her mother, aged as she was, was too quick.
"Sit down, daughter," the Queen commanded. "And you as well, Daemon," Alysanne's eyes were cold and somehow that was even more terrifying than the wrath of her husband. "We are the House of the Dragon, of the Blood of Old Valyria, not a clan of wildlings."
"I'm sorry, Mother," Gael quietly apologized.
"Is it true what your nephew says, my sweet Winter Child?" Alysanne cupped her daughter's face. "Did you leave your rooms in the middle of the night?"
"I…" Gael stuttered.
"She was with me, sister," Daemon sharply glanced at Aunt Jocelyn. "Gael was helping me with the quilt I have been making for Rhaenys' babe. She returned to her chambers to change out of her day dress and then came back to mine. Daemon was not aware of this which is why he must have assumed that Gael left the family wing of the Red Keep."
Daemon grit his teeth. His Aunt was lying to the face of the Queen and King just to save Gael's skin.
"You were with Jocelyn," Jaehaerys stated.
"Yes, Father," Gael replied, probably thankful for the lifeline Jocelyn had thrown her. "I'm sorry if I should've told you."
"Very well," the King nodded. "There are only a few more hours left before dawn. We should get some rest. Daemon I see no reason to add to your Father's punishment. Gael, you are not to fly Tessarion for a fortnight. This is my command."
They both nodded their heads in acquiesce. But as they left Jaehaerys and Alysanne's chambers along with Baelon and Jocelyn, Jaehaerys spoke once more.
"You'll be sharing all of your lessons from now on," the King said as he climbed back into bed. "Let's see if the maester can somehow make the both of you get along."
The door closed. Daemon saw Jocelyn hold Gael by the hand as she led her to her room and Daemon's father began to do the same for him.
Baelon had just finished tucking Daemon back into bed when he looked the young Prince carefully in the eye.
"No need to be discouraged, son. You lost a battle, not the war," the Spring Prince chuckled to himself. "I think it might be time for a change of tactics though."
Daemon looked questioningly up at his father.
"Try being nice to her," Baelon clapped his son on the shoulder. "That seems like a better plan of attack."
His father kissed him on the forehead before exiting the room with a quiet click of the door all while Daemon stared at the ceiling in puzzlement as he tried to figure out what in the Seven hells his father was talking about.