The Maid - Aemond Targaryen

Fifty Nine - The Death Of Daemon Targaryen

THREE MOONS LATER

"You frown even in your sleep."

Elyana stirred awake from her slumber, eyes fluttering open to reveal Daemon staring down at her with softness in his expression. She snarled, arms instantly flailing as she tried to attack him. It was their everyday routine. He woke her up, then she fought him until she had no more to give.

It was exhausting, but she would never stop it. "You woke up with much energy today," he smirked, his hands snapping around her frail wrists and holding them together. She winced, taking small breaths to calm herself. Elyana did not answer him, she never answered him. She scarcely remembered the last time she had spoken an entire sentence.

When he deemed her calm enough, he chucked a wooden bowl unto her barely covered lap. "Eat. You've not eaten in days," he ordered.

Elyana glared at the food, then at him. She had been starving herself, he was right. She figured any day now she would collapse and finally die.

He watched her expectantly, patiently. But Daemon was never a very patient man, so after a few minutes of her hunger strike, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. When she yelped, he took the opportunity to shove the foul smelling stew down her throat.

"You do the Crown no good dead, lovely," a tear slipped down her cheek at the roughness of his actions, a tear that he licked away. Elyana's veins filled with rage at the action. Everytime she cried, he did the same exact thing. It made her sick.

Elyana flailed her arms wildly, hitting him but he did not cease as he just continued to force stew down her throat. After there was nothing left in the bowl, he released her and shoved her back down unto the bed.

"And do not dare throw it back up," he growled and turned away, moving to dress himself for the day. Elyana sat there, defeated and feeling nauseous— glaring at the back of his head. "That kinslayin husband of yours is making quite the mess."

Elyana gulped, hope igniting in her chest. She knew that Aemond was still looking for her, that he was turning the realm upside down for her— but Daemon was much too fast for Aemond to catch. For now.

It'd been a few moons since King's Landing had been taken by Rhaenyra, Elyana was not sure how many though. She spent a week in the black cells, alone. Then for some reason, Daemon took her from the cell. He took Elyana all across the realm. It was a game of cat and mouse, a game he was playing with his nephew.

They only spent one or two days in one place, enough to get Aemond on their tail— then when he was close, he took her away to some other place. Elyana did not understand the point. She figured that if Daemon were to be a real man, he would face Aemond once for all. But he was not a real man, he was a pathetic mongrel that had no indiscernible personality or goal in his life other than be a parasite.

Daemon Targaryen was a nobody. And Elyana could not wait for her husband to finally catch up to him and kill him.

After he donned his armor, he turned back to Elyana with a small smile. "I've heard your husband has made quite a mess of the Riverlands. Burned everything in his path just to get to you."

Good. Elyana thought. When he gathered no response, he scowled. "I should have cut out your tongue, since you're so adamant on ignoring me."