Surviving

Chapter 22: The Boy Who Betrayed The Girl

"Now hold it in place until you no longer can, byka zaldrīzes." (little dragon) Daemon chuckled as he watched little twelve year old Naerys struggle to hold Dark Sister, but she was trying her best. He could see the strain in her face and the way she leaned back for support to lift the sword above her.

"What...does...this have to do...with learning...fuck!" Naerys snapped when the handle slipped from her grasp, landing on the sands with a thump. He laughed, but made no move to retrieve his blade. Instead he arched his eyebrow towards the sword, signaling for her to continue. "Why should I learn to use a stupid sword anyways? There is such a thing as knights, you know."

"And which of those knights came to protect their princess when she was in distress not too long ago?" He challenged and her face dropped instantly. She hated thinking about that night on Driftmark.

Daemon was the only one who knew how to talk to Naerys after that tragic night all those weeks ago. While Rhaenyra and Luke would coddle her like a helpless pup and Jace would praise her for such violence, Daemon would make sure Naerys could protect herself whether it was with a sword or with her words.

He saw the dragon that hid inside her when he first saw her at the funeral of his late wife, Lady Laena. He saw so much of Ser Harwin Strong in Naerys, but he could see Rhaenyra as well. Naerys just clung to her father's memory though, letting her Targaryen blood fade away from her.

But Daemon wouldn't let that happen to Naerys.

He didn't care about her blood, he cared because she was his family.

Naerys picked up Dark Sister once more with the same struggle, but she used her sleeve to cover her palms. The sweat building up on her skin was making it ten times harder to hold it in place without falling.

"Aht aht. Roll them down now, Naer." Daemon shook his head sternly as he looked at her sleeves.

"But it'll slip!" She whined, but did as he said. All she wanted to do was walk alone on the beach and somehow she was being conned into this nonsense.

"Do you think I roll my sleeves over my hands in battle? No, I just hold the bloody sword." He half grinned when she let out a small pout. As she held the sword, he circled around her, studying her form intently. "Bend your knees a little. You'll faint if you keep them straight like that."

She bent her knees slightly, feeling the weight of the sword grow heavier with each second.

"Turn to the side. You don't want to give anyone an open target." He added as she shifted to her side, holding the blade in front of her with even more struggle.

"It's slipping, kepa." She gritted through her teeth as sweat started to form above her eyebrows.

"You're doing fine, princess. Just keep holding as tight as you can." He said as he walked behind her, but then out of nowhere he slammed his dagger against the sword.

But it didn't fall from her grip.

"What was that for?!" She whined as the vibration from the clanking metal stung through her arms.

"See, now no one can knock that sword from your hands." He smiled proudly as she handed his sword back to him. "You need to be able to never lose your grip on your sword. If you had dropped it just now, my blade would've pierced right through you."

"Mother wouldn't be too pleased with that." She grimaced, earning a soft chuckle from him.

"Oh, now we certainly wouldn't want the line of succession to pass through Jacerys, would we?" He winked, making her let out a snort. His face turned more serious as her giggling died down. "Speaking of your brother, you seem to be avoiding him as of late."