"The blood of Lucerys will be repaid tenfold. A brother for a brother."
In which Daenys Velaryon, the oldest child of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon, must come to terms with the fact that the man she loves has committed an unforgivable crime...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"There are teeth marks on everything you have ever loved."
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
Daenys Velaryon had been awake long before they came to get her.
Sleep eluded her these days, and she had stayed curled up by the open window all night, eyes wide open in the silent communion with the stars and storm outside. The room—her husband's room and her prison—remained draped in shadows, and she relished in the chill that wrapped around her like a phantom, seeping into her very bones. She welcomed its frigid breath and the thousand piercing needles of the rain's relentless assault.
She used to be afraid of storms, afraid of the flash of lightning that momentarily lit up the dark world, chased by the peal of thunder that sounded as if a great beast had taken up residence in the sky. She used to be afraid until her father taught her not to be.
She never even had to go to him. He would simply be there, a candle in one hand, and a book in another, slipping into her chambers when the sky began to darken in the slightest. He would tell her all about his voyages at sea then, and teach her to count the moments between the streak of lightning and the crack of thunder, for they always came at an interval. He always knew when the storms came, he always knew when he would be needed.
Perhaps not always though, for how was Laenor Velaryon to know that he was so desperately needed by her now, dead and gone that he was, forever swallowed by the waves at Driftmark.
The night was almost over, and along with it the downpour, when she spotted a familiar shadow, a hulking silhouette flying into King's Landing. She could not make out the beast's rider of course, but she imagined him all the same, silver hair streaking across the sky like a falling star. She wondered what errand could have possibly had him out at such an hour, during a tempest where the gods wept and raged in the heavens above.
She was awake when the first tendrils of dawn crept into the room, casting long shadows that danced upon the walls, and in the timeless space between night and day, she wondered what troubles the encroaching day would bring.
She was awake when moments later, the heavy wooden doors to Daenys Velaryon's chamber burst open with a resounding crash, breaking the fragile tranquility of the damp morning. Two knights stormed in, clad in armour that clinked with every step, and the first, his eyes betraying a hint of regret, offered a shallow bow and spoke with a tone of reluctant apology.
"Princess, forgive the intrusion-"
The second knight, however, exuded none of the first's courtesy. His eyes, cold and unyielding, narrowed as he impatiently interrupted, "Enough with pleasantries. Your presence is demanded in the Dowager Queen's chambers. Now."
Daenys remained seated by the window, her gaze fixed on some faraway point. She felt the energy shift in the room, the air thickening with tension as the knights awaited her compliance, but her resolve remained unbroken, and she did not stir. A gust of wind, carrying the scent of wet earth and uncertainty, swept through the open window, rustling the tendrils of her dishevelled hair.
