"I am Daenaera of House Targaryen, the blood of Old Valyria, the blood of the dragon. I was King's Viserys first born daughter, and named Heir to the Iron Throne. I will bow to no man, much less the blood of a usurper." - Queen Daenaera Targaryen
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Grief, deep sorrow, especially caused by that of someone's death. A feeling Daenaera had never felt before, yet now the feeling had been deeply embedded in her heart. Her mother was dead, slain by the Maester's, her mother's ladies, and her father who gave the order. Slain to bring forth a son, who would die anyway. Baelon, the boy was named, for her father's own father.
Her father had a son, an heir for hours, that was all his life held, before he was taken to by the stranger. Her mother had been opened by way of the blade and her child torn from inside of her body. It made Daenaera sick, she would never forget that day. That cursed day. The feeling in her body, how her insides clenched in pain, the scene she saw when she entered her mother's chambers.
Blood lined the bed and her mother, Aemma had been cut completely open as if she were dinner they were to feast upon. It had been one day, since her mother was killed. Daenaera was reeling in agony, the only thing that kept her afloat was Alicent Hightower. Her friend had stayed at her side, refusing to leave her. Holding her through the night whilst she cried.
Daenaera stood at the pyre that was to be light by her dragon, Messarion. Her eyes staring ahead at her mother's lifeless body wrapped up and that of her brother. "They're waiting for you." Daemon whispered in her ear, she looked over to her father, Rhaenyra was beside him with her friend, Jalessa Strong at her side. Alicent stood next to Daenaera, yet kept some distance.
"I wonder if during those few hours my brother lived, my father found happiness, happiness he never found in my sister or I." Daenaera felt sick at the thought, her heart broke. She loved her father so very much, yet she would never be enough.
"Your father needs you." Daemon argued, "more now than he ever has." Daenaera knew no matter what, she, a girl, would never be enough for him. His need for a son killed her mother and would be the death of his next wife too.
"Never will I be a son, Uncle. Neither I nor Rhaenyra will ever be enough for him." Daenaera declared, the pain piercing her heart deeper. She thought she would resemble hate for her brother, the long awaited son, then she saw him. She loved him, instantly. Her father was beside himself at her mother's bedside, but Daenaera clutched her baby brother in her arms until he took his last breath.
