Chapter Text
Daenys.
Daenys Velaryon felt the wind blowing through her brown hair as she rode atop her dragon, Aegarax, and she watched as the Red Keep grew bigger and bigger as she approached it at a quick pace. Daenys almost wanted to keep on flying, but she resisted the urge as her dragon lowered her to the ground steadily. Since she could remember, flying with Aegarax was her favorite thing in the world. She had decided at an early age that if she could ride on dragon back forever as opposed to walking, she would. Daenys knew that this was due to her bond with the black dragon, who had been hatched the same day she was born. Her mother, Rhaenyra, had a dragon egg brought to her to sleep next to every night while pregnant with Daenys to secure a dragon for her daughter before she was even born. Since birth, Daenys and Aegarax had been united, dragon and rider sharing the same sensations and thoughts, telepathically connected. Daenys would die for her dragon, who she named after one of the gods of old Valyria, and watched as the onyx-colored dragon grew, which he did at a faster pace than more dragons, to the point where he was almost as big as Syrax. Aegarax was strong, formidable, and Daenys loved him.
Aegarax descended, giant wings beating down on the ground like a windstorm, and Daenys saw Lucerys and Jacaerys arrive on their own dragons. The dragon keepers approached the three dragons, welcoming them back to the Dragon Pit. As Daenys dropped down from her saddle, she turned to stroke Aegarax with a loving hand.
‘’I’ll see you soon.’’ She promised whispering as if the dragon could respond, but in a way he did, because he gave her a nudge with his huge snout, almost pushing her over. The girl giggled but was interrupted by a voice that startled her out of her thoughts.
‘’That’s a gorgeous beast.’’ The low, calm voice drifted through the air. Daenys and her older brothers whipped around to see a tall, silver-haired man with an eye-patch covering his left eye standing at the door to the dragon pit, one hand resting on a sheathed sword. He was staring at Daenys and her brothers intently, his one violet eye wide and menacing.
‘’Aemond.’’ Lucerys greeted in a less-than friendly tone. As the dragon keepers led their dragons away, the three Velaryon sibling approached their uncle cautiously, no love lost between the boys and the older Targaryen. Daenys sized him up. He was no longer a boy like she remembered, but a man, tall, svelte, with strong shoulders. He was carrying himself with an air of aloofness, his stoic face giving no emotion away.
Daenys was years younger than her uncle, but she remembered growing up alongside him, and remembered when he had lost his eye. She was quite young, around 5 years old, but she recalled the drama that occurred, how Aemond refused to stay in bed to heal, instead deciding to continue his sword training skills with Criston Cole. Daenys had been too young then to understand the bitter schism between Alicent Hightower’s family and Rhaenyra’s, and she decided to become Aemond’s little shadow. She followed him around, watching as he trained, listening to him read out from the history books to her, and sat next to him during dinner. He seemed to enjoy the company, from what she remembered, as she noticed he was estranged from his brother and the other boys. As she got a bit older, she could acknowledge that she had a little childhood crush on the boy, but as she grew even more aware of the hostility between their ‘’sides’’ she knew that that was all it would ever be. Yet, she still decided to be friendly with the older boy, not caring about his disfigured face and missing eye. As an older girl now, she wondered why Aemond had tolerated her, seeing as he despised her brothers, Luke and Jace, due to their alleged bastard-nature that Alicent had brain washed him to believe.
The issue of her and her sibling’s birth, was known to her. Harwin Strong was their father, but they still were Targaryens through and through, and she never doubted that for a second. They shared the same father, Laenor, who was now dead. While the cruel jokes and taunts about them being bastards bothered her brothers, Daenys never seemed to care that much. She refused to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her react in any way to the ‘’baseless’’ lies. She had Valyrian blood either way.
Now she had come face to face with her uncle Aemond, older, and so different. The awkward, shy boy from her youth was no longer, but instead he stood quite tall, long silver hair draped over his shoulders. His face was lean, narrow, his strong chin pursing his lips into a permanent smirk. His face, while still scarred, more handsome than Daenys wanted to admit. His eye glittered in the dim light of the Dragon Pit as his eyes settled on her.
‘’Nephews…niece.’’ He greeted, giving her a wry little smile. Daenys bit her lip, suddenly very conscious of not knowing what to do with her hands. She began to wring them nervously, much like her mother did.
‘’Uncle.’’ Was all she returned. Aemond took a step towards her, which did not go unnoticed by Jace, who proceeded to stand in front of her protectively. Aemond’s eye narrowed but he froze.
‘’You and your dragon have grown splendidly since I last saw you.’’ The prince mused.
‘’Thank you, Your Grace.’’ Daenys managed, not sure where the conversation was going or why Aemond was paying her so much attention. As if he could read her mind, Aemond’s eyes turned to her brothers.
‘’Dear nephews,’’ He began in a taunting tone, ‘’You haven’t changed a bit since I last saw you both. Mayhaps you look a bit more strong.’’ Their uncle chuckled as he watched Jace and Luke bristle at his words. Daenys rolled his eyes. Evidently the prince liked wordplay.
‘’Let’s go,’’ She muttered, pulling at Jace’s sleeve, ‘’We don’t have time for this.’’ Luke and Jace obliged, giving Aemond a dirty look, but as they passed by their uncle Daenys tried her best to avoid his gaze as she was intently aware that he was staring at her. She risked a glance at the older man and as soon as she confirmed that he was indeed studying her, looking at her, like she was the first woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Her first instinct was to look away, but she met his gaze and without meaning to she smiled at him. Aemond’s eyebrow raised, his eye changing from a look of smugness to a softer, more surprised look. Daenys looked away immediately to follow Luke and Jace out of the Dragon Pit to meet their mother in the Keep, too afraid to look back at the prince.
Aemond.
To say Aemond was a little more pleased than he should be to see the arrivals of his nephews was an understatement. While he was expecting to see Jacareys and Lucerys, the Strong bastards he had a deep dislike for, he was surprised to see Daenys, his bastard niece, jump from her great black dragon. He realized that he had completely forgotten about her, as many years had passed since he’d last seen her, but now that he looked at her every memory came rushing back.
The prince recalled how he would read to her in the library as children, how she’d laugh at his witless jokes, and watch as he trained with Ser Criston. She had never failed to make his day better in their youth, even after the bitter loss of his eye. Daenys had been ecstatic to find out he had claimed Vhagar. Aemond chuckled to remember how she had begged him to take her for a ride on Vhagar’s back, but at the time Aemond had been too scared to take her up with him, for fear of an accident happening. Other than his sister, Daenys had been the only family member he liked being around. He didn’t even seem to recall the fact that she too was a bastard, like her brothers. Her sweet nature as a child must have won him over. But she had been so young, she must have forgotten by now, as well as been brainwashed to hate him like her older brothers did.
Aemond gazed at Daenys now, who was grown up, a girl of seven and ten years old. Aemond begrudgingly noticed that she really had grown into a beautiful young woman. Her dark brown hair fell to her shoulders in soft, gentle waves, still messy from the ride on Aegarax. She was dressed in black riding pants, with leather boots that reached her knees. Instead of a tunic she wore a black leather jerkin overtop a white blouse, the Targaryen sigil embroidered on in red on the chest, and the blue Velaryon seahorses adorning the sleeves. Daenys Velaryon looked every bit a proper dragon rider. When she turned to look at him Aemond felt his heart clench in his chest as he got a good look at her face. She was fair, big brown eyes as opposed to violet ones studying him. Her face was round, all soft edges, with the same aquiline nose of house Targaryen. Freckles dappled her sun kissed skin, probably from so much time under the sun atop her dragon. Aemond drank her presence in, unable to tear his gaze away.
The little boy inside him wanted to shy away, his old insecurity of his scarred, ugly face coming back to haunt him as he met the gaze of the woman that he knew he was supposed to hate as much as her siblings. He cursed at the intrusive thoughts of Daenys’ pretty demeanor that attacked his mind, voices that reminded him that Daenys would find him disgusting, find his missing eye disgusting, like some women in court did, but when she smiled at him, Aemond’s fears vanished.
Daenys smiled at him, even after he taunted her brothers. In that moment he felt his heart soar, and he wondered if this is how he felt as a child whenever he had been with her. Aemond’s usually impenetrable heart softened slightly, which he fucking hated.