Naerys did not have the fairytale life, nor did she want it. As the youngest child of King Baelon she would be expected to marry and be the dutiful wife. That was not who she was. Naerys had a dark secret that she would never whisper to anyone. That...
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Naerys could not seem to gain much warmth back. A lady of Winterfell has provided her with thick furs that lay over her shoulders but still, she shivered. Frynne insisted that she come inside but Naerys brushed her off. "It is not every day Dallon finds a friend." She leaned against the railing and watched Dallon and Cregan clash fake swords. It was obvious that Frynne's teachings were rubbing off. Dallon knew exactly how to stand and defend himself.
Cregan had a few pounds on the other boy but Dallon used his nimble speed to land blow after blow. Frynne placed a hand on Naerys shoulder and gazed upon her face. Naerys nose was a deep red that matched where her cheeks suffered from the cold wind. It was apparent that she was a dragon through and through. Naerys was at the point that she would jump into a fire herself to stay warm.
"What happened, Naerys?" Frynne had not wanted to push the agenda but the wounds on her lover, and the distant look in her eye was worrying. It took some time for Naerys to even look at her but when she did, it was a soft, saddening look. But there was even hints of relief behind her mismatched orbs.
"I found her. I found her, Frynne." Naerys wrapped the furs tighter around her shoulders and gazed down at her son. His smile was so broad and his laughs were so loud it almost made her forget the heavy feeling in her soul. "She was beautiful and intelligent and confident. Everything I imagined her to be as a little girl."
Frynne raised an eyebrow and leaned against the balcony so she could fit herself in Naerys line of vision again. "We have been through hell and back, you can tell me anything."
That she had been.
Frynne was the one solid, constant in her crazy life. Frynne had never left through childbirth, restless nights, nightmares and growing doubt. A part of her still wondered if Frynne's love was a grand Dornish plan to take the throne. At this point, Frynne could strip her naked and throw her at the feet of her king brother for a award and Naerys love would not falter. Naerys reached for her hand and ran her thumb across the gold rings that adorned her fingers. Gold had always been Frynne's color.
"If something were to happen to me-"
"No. No don't start speaking nonsense." Frynne cut off Naerys who held up a hand in defense.
"Listen to me, please." Naerys looked over her shoulders to only see the occasional guard and maiden running about. She hooked arms with Frynne and slipped inside the castle walls. "My mother, I don't know who she was, what she was. But she believes someone wishes ill intent on our son." Naerys harshly whispered under her breath. She searched each corridor as if prying ears were around every corner.
"That woman has lived in the woods for years, possibly her entire life. Do you really believe what she says?" Frynne did not want to attack her lover under the stress that was heavy on her shoulders, but the claims seemed crazed to her. Naerys gave a sharp look before dropping her head with a shake. "Darling maybe she rest."
"No. No I believe her." Naerys pulled her arm away from Frynne. Frynne reached out to touch her but Naerys recoiled from her touch. "I would like to warm up." Frynne knew it was just an excuse to end this uncomfortable conversation but she wanted Naerys to be comfortable regardless. She took a step back to give Naerys some space, watching with sad eyes when Naerys left for the chambers the Starks had prepared for them.
The room was modest, thick with furs and the smell of burning embers. Naerys dragged one of the sturdy chairs next to the fire and held her hands out to the flame. Naerys felt a familiar comfort for fire. A million jokes ran through her head about the Targaryen lineage when she thought about that. Her mind wandered as her mismatched eyes danced across the flickering flames.
She too, would burn the world if a hair on her sons head were to be harmed.
A knock came to her door not long after she had settled. Naerys had nearly slipped off into a slumber and groaned at the knock. If it was Frynne, she would politely ask her for alone time but her heart warmed at the familiar young face looking back at her. "Mother?"
Dallon's face was smeared with dirt, his knees and hands scraped. But he looked happy. That was until he saw the tear stains down Naerys red cheeks. "Are you okay?"
Naerys tried to wipe her dried tears away and sniffled. "Yes little dragon, the fire is far too warm I'm afraid." She lied with a small laugh. Dallon closed the door behind him and leaned his wooden sword against the door. Naerys reached out and took his wounded hand in her own as he walked towards her. "Let us clean this, yes?" The ladies had prepared her warm water to dip her feet in to warm them but she had yet to use it. She dipped the provided rag inside and gently cleaned Dallon's knuckles while he sat in front of her.
Dallon was tall already. He was close to overpowering Frynne with his height already. But Naerys had never seen a more gentle soul. Not once had he ever used his size to intimidate. She diligently cleaned the dirt off of his palms. "Mother, can you tell me about my father?" Naerys froze. She stayed silent and rung out the cloth again.
"Your father is alive but you already know that." Naerys voice could not wave waver in this moment. She had promised Dallon as much. "His name is Daemon."
"Daemon? Daemon Targaryen?" Her boy was clever. Naerys smiled softly and nodded once.
"You knew we were the blood of Old Valyria, little one." It was more a statement than anything. "Your father and I are both of Targaryen descent. Did you know I used to live in the big castle of King's Landing?" Dallon smiles with dirty cheeks and laughed. The thought of his mother running in billowing gowns and attending Ball's made him laugh.
"Does he not love me?" Love. Dallon had never known anything other than love. Frynne and his mother made sure he never went without. But the statement made Naerys heart drop to her feet. She put the rag aside and pulled Dallon back so her sat between her feet, her fingers combing through his stained locks.
"Your father is an interesting man. However, his decisions do not define you. His actions do not make nor change what an amazing young man you are becoming." Naerys leaned forward and placed her chin on the top of Dallon's head. They both looked within the fire and it was poetic.
Two free dragons, enslaved by the decisions of those that came before them.
"When I am older I can defend your honor." Dallon brought his knees up to his chest. Naerys cocked her head in confusion and looked down to her son nestled at her feet.
"What do you mean Dallon?"
"If he ever makes you cry again, I'll make him regret ever hurting you."
