"Give the girl to me to wife. Who else would take her now?"
The Rogue Prince was able to take what he desired, and is given the Snow Dragon to marry. Daemon and Maegelle's story was always that of Ice and Fire, leaving the Greens nothing but ash an...
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Daemon walks around the small library, following his niece with no intention of reading. His hands graze the hardcovers of the leather-bound books before a small gap was found in the middle of the bookcase, and his eyes meet with hers from across the shelf.
"Sweet Maegelle," he smiled as her name tasted like honey on his bitter tongue. This pretty woman was now her father's heir — and was destined to inherit everything good and holy. That used to be his spot, and it used to be his inheritance. "Daemon," she replied informally while gathering a few books on her hand.
Nothing about her figure was petite. Her round breasts, and wide stomach — everything about her body was human and had signs of child-bearing, but that didn't mean she was less beautiful. Actually, it made her more beautiful in his eyes. "I didn't know you spent your time in the libraries," his voice bounces off the small room and his feet walks around the shelf, halting in front of her and blocking her way.
"You hardly do know me." she pointed out while placing a book back on the shelf. His presence was carnal — he knew what he wanted and he had his eyes on it. "Which I spend my time with you. I wish to know you," he answered cheekily, while crossing his arms and slightly leaning on the shelf. His eyebrows raising in amusement as she pays him no attention.
The woman was immune to all charms. Her standoffish demeanor already told him that. If he was a hunter, then this sign was already taken down — but it's a good thing that he wasn't a hunter.
"You've been gone so long, my darling." he purrs as his eyes remained transfixed on her face. She was wearing a beautiful gown, one commissioned by Daemon — but given by Viserys. "We've both been gone for so long," she remarks making the 'so' part intentionally long. He tainted half the ingenues in Kingslanding, dipping into their maidenheads before their fathers could think twice.
Maegelle was not a maiden anymore, and thus nothing he could corrupt.
"It seems so, the last time we were able to speak, you were still a babe — and now a woman-grown indeed." he phrases as he still leaned cooly on the shelf. She scoffs at his statement, before turning her head to the neighboring shelf and walking towards it. There was something about the intonation of his voice that told her, he wasn't here to be family.
Men like him were not easily discouraged, but they could be ignored.
"Really? Ignoring your own uncle?" he pipes up as his feet led him to the neighboring shelf.
Maegelle holds a dusty book in her hands, facing her uncle and blowing the dust on his face. He coughs twice as his eyes closed from the sudden irritation.
His face reminded her of a court jester.
He coughs again. This time more loudly and with phlegm.
Then his eyes closed, a loud laugh escaped the Princess' mouth. A laugh that surprised her.
He wipes the dust from the corner of his iris scowling playfully at the girl. "Was that amusing?" he rolled his eyes and she ignores him, pretending that the mischief wasn't entirely her fault.
She thinks of him again, with his eyes closed and mouth coughing. She laughs for the second time, finding the entire accident hilarious. He grabs her by the elbow — forcing her to look at him him. "Uncle," she says in a sweet voice, looking at him with those innocent doe eyes.
He couldn't stay mad.
"I see that you haven't outgrown the silly pranks." he jested and she smiles. Maegelle believed that he wouldn't remember her — that she was just as remarkable as any child. All these years it seems like her uncle hadn't stopped thinking of her.
"You were supposed to outgrow it?" she inquired innocently before picking another book and placing it on her hands. By this time, she was holding at least five books. It was clear that she was having a slight discomfort.
Daemon places his hands on the tops of the last book, and takes all of it from her hand. "Daemon!" she complained as the weight was slightly taken off her. "Don't complain now," he whined as he placed all of the weight on his left arm — taking her hand in his right, and leading her out of the library.
It was humid and silent there.
He hated that.
——
They were sprawled out on the gardens, both of them reading about tales of years ago. Maegelle laid there underneath the Weirwood Tree (the only thing that reminded her of the north) her body sprawled on its clothed roots, her chest rising and falling as deep relaxation spreads over her body. This was peace — one that lasted forever.
"How long have you fancied reading?" Daemon inquired finding her hobby surprising, as he was forced to teach her how to read. She never enjoyed learning as much as using her skills. Maegelle ponders for a moment, thinking about the first time she willingly picked up a book.
"Well I used to read to the King, I suppose it was his perseverance that made me love reading." she admitted, welcoming the memory of the late king. There was no need to mourn. No need to think bitterly about the past when you could reminisce it's memory. Daemon's mouth opens and a small hum of understanding left his lips.
He moves his body towards her, to the point that her elbows touched his own and he lays his head on her shoulder, seeing no ounce of rebellion from her. He takes a deep breath, inhaling her floral scent — reading wasn't his relaxation. This was.
"Read to me," he requested and his eyes gently fluttering, warning her about his inevitable sleep. He supposed that there was something in her presence that brought tranquility over a rogue man. She was the mother come to life, and he vows that one day he will have her, and bring back her Valyrian bearings.
She leans into him too, and words of old began to spill from her tongue.
Stories about quests and dragon-lords, from legends to fables.
Until she doesn't realize that they've both fallen asleep.
