For almost her entire life, Daella Targaryen has lived as Mellara Rivers, the bastard daughter of Arnold Arryn and cupbearer of Lady Jeyne Arryn. First and trueborn daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daella had but slight contact with her fami...
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S I X T Y - T W O
Breathing in the dark, lying on its side ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
After Prince Daemon had fallen back north of the Neck, the speed with which the war was waged halted significantly. The knights of the Vale had taken Harrenhal under Aemond's lead and that is where the King had resided for the last three and a half moons, while Daella attended to the matters in Kingslanding. Lions were ruling Riverrun, Stone Hedge by the Queen Who Never Was, and both their preceding Lords had been met with fire that could melt stone. Daella did not grieve the death of the late Lord Elmo, especially not since his end meant the freedom of her beloved sister. She did not even know the name of the Lord that had ruled over Stone Hedge and in the last three and a half moons, she had not yet had the privilege of enough free time to figure it out.
Daella's days were spent waddling from tower to tower with a ridiculously massive escort of knights, one advisor and at least two midwives. When her husband the King had conquered Harrenhal and freed the cities south of the Neck, the host that escorted her had consisted of even more people. She had managed to cut the number of advisors and Maesters by insisting that only Grand Maester Helliweg accompanied her, since he was both at the same time. In the last couple of moons, she had come to rely heavily on the older man and where she had once despised having to spend time listening to his tedious lessons about politics, she now greatly sought after his wisdom.
When Helaena returned from Riverrun with the news of Jacaerys' death, the entire Small Council, including Daella, had feared retaliation from Dragonstone. They no longer locked up the dragons with riders in the Dragonpit, resulting in the occasional sighting of one of the four dragons, and Daella had orchestrated the death of all the Goldcloaks who had served under Prince Daemon's lead. It had not been exactly subtle, but she had learned that subtilities were often overlooked in times of war. None of it had been necessary so far, for it remained awfully quiet from Dragonstone.
Daella knew they should push on with the war, preferably before the entire North had rallied behind Prince Daemon with all of their force, but she trusted Aemond and his decision-making. The most obvious move was going for Dragonstone, now that she had her grandfather's alliance and with it, his fleet, but Daella also knew that wood did not stand a chance against the fire that Arrax and Syrax would rain down. Looking down at her hands resting on the swell of her enormous belly, she noticed her fingers drumming impatiently.
She was in no position to fly, did not trust her cousin Rhaena enough to send her to Dragonstone for fear of her reunion with her younger brother Lucerys even though Daella had annulled their betrothal with a royal decree and would not ever let Helaena out of her sight again. That meant that until her babe was born, she would play no part in the war. In fact, she had not made a public appearance for the last couple of days, always staying close to her chambers upon the Grand Maesters' insistence. He had no doubt that the birth of the new prince or princess would happen soon and Daella had been forced to divide her tasks between Grand Maester Helliweg and the Hand, making sure both delivered full reports every night after dinner.
