The Blood of Old Valyria

XIV

~The Blood of Old Valyria~

Chapter XIV

Daemon Targaryen did not look like a man who could comfort a weeping maiden. He never thought he, a vicious prince, would be heartbroken at the sight of a tear-stained face whose beauty he admired every time he saw it. Damon knew what had happened, had seen it, watched in the shadows behind the wall as a family quarrel broke out and Dayraena rose angrily from the table, stirring the fire with magic.

    Mesmerizing.

   There were a couple candles burning in her chambers and the prince, as soon as he entered, wanted to blow them out, plunging the room into darkness so that Dairena would not see the confusion and doubt on his face, in his gaze, always full of confidence or mockery. Daemon didn't know how to react. The last time he had comforted someone and tried to support them had been after Queen Aemma's death. And that had been a different case. He understood why Rhaenyra and Viserys were dropping tears, so it was possible to find an approach to them, but now.... What to do now? Leave? Leave her alone, consumed by a grief unknown to him? Or stay? Lie down beside and hug her, showing that he was there for her...?

   Damon chose the second option.

   He stepped closer and rested his knees on the bed, intending to get close to the woman, but he stopped when he met her gaze. Variegated eyes stared back at him, reddened and swollen, tired and full of pain. Her gaze was always penetrating, like it was getting under his skull, wanting to know every thought and secret, but that wasn't the case this time. The multicolored faded eyes only superficially examined his face while tears continued to roll down his cheeks, trailing over the dry, trembling lips that Damon thought were about to fold into the small smile she always greeted him with.

   He crawled over to her and laid down beside her, pressing his torso against her trembling back and propping his head up with his hand. Dayraena watched the prince's actions uninterrupted, turning her face slightly in his direction. The prince's other hand hovered over the woman's shoulder. Daemon wanted to support Gelarion with this gesture, but hesitated for a moment, not realizing if he was doing the right thing.  She would surely have noticed the uncertainty in his movements, had Reyna not been otadan at the mercy of raging feelings. Her cold fingers barely touched the back of the prince's palm as he lowered his hand, finally making a decision. Dayraena thoughtlessly snuggled closer, savoring the warmth of another man's body.

   They lay in silence. The silence was interrupted only by the sobs of the gradually calming woman. Damon gently rolled up the sleeve of her nightgown and ran his fingertips over her skin, leaving a light kiss on her temple. Such tenderness had never been peculiar to the dragon prince, but for the second time he noticed that it was with Reyna, without realizing it himself, that he began to show attention and care. Yes, it was unfamiliar. Given that Daemon had always cared only about his family and himself, what was happening was alarming, disconcerting, and even frightening, but it made his heart warm.