Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was like this overwhelming presence swarmed her. 

Small glimpses of the past, the present, the future. 

There was no barrier anymore. 

Laena certainly wasn’t dead. At least not in any way that mattered before. 

It was sudden almost. The realization. The way she felt the change, like she was no longer floating.

Even her eyes felt weighted, something she nearly forgot the feeling of, what it felt to be real.

Blinking open her eyes—there he was. Daemon. A man who held so much of her love, and yet so much of her disdain. 

Perhaps she should have expected to see him, but she didn’t. 

If she wanted to reach out and touch him and have him feel it, she knew that she could now. It didn't feel natural. 

She had almost become used to the constant subjugation of her being. 

Her lack of autonomy. A glorified spectator.

All of the death and destruction.

The Dance of the Dragons.

She had witnessed how her poor daughters were left broken and battered by the end of the war. They had lost everyone.

Even looking into violet eyes that weren't theirs, Laena swore to them and herself that she would not leave them again. She knew she would make it so, no matter what it took. They were all that ever truly mattered. 

Not even Daemon could compare. Not then or now. 

He had once been a simple choice for her. She found him charming, but imagined the amount of time they spent together would be used for making heirs. 

She was left surprised when they married. He wished to fly on their dragons together and travel the world. He did not even seem disappointed when she birthed him two girls instead of two boys.

Laena was content enough, at least that's what she wanted to believe. 

When she found out she was pregnant with their third child, that ideal began to deteriorate further. 

The pregnancy was harder on her than Baela and Rhaena’s was, which was the first reason she wished to give birth on Driftmark with her mother by her side. 

She asked Daemon to return to Westeros over a dozen times, and she was denied at every turn while he stuffed his head in books about the history of dragonlords or thought about his family that lived so far away from them. A curse he put upon himself.

Laena wanted her daughters to know more about life than Pentos.

She had missed her home. 

She wanted to feel safe.

But when her labors began, she knew something was wrong. The pain was worse than anything she had ever experienced. It lasted well-over into the night and it never lessened. 

Her son refused to come, and the healers and midwives by her side cared not for her well-being, nor her opinion, but the opinion of her husband. 

She refused to die under anyone else’s circumstances. 

It was why it was so easy for her to slip out once Daemon put their daughters back to bed.

And the look in Vhagar’s eyes when she pleaded with her to end her sufferings, it nearly broke Laena’s heart, but she had to do it. Vhagar knew that too.

Laena wished she could have said a proper goodbye.

“I cannot say that I am not fond of this reception.” His voice, it was almost different hearing it again—outside the realm of spectism. 

As for his spoken words; she wished she could say the same. 

He was well aware of her silence, taking in account the way his eyes crinkled, studying her. It made her feel uneasy. He tended to do that. “You remember,” he said. There was no question. 

Dying?  She wanted to ask.

I remember how hot my face felt when Vhagar opened her maw. Even with my eyes closed, it was so bright.

I remember the pain, but I never screamed. It was over as soon as it began.

I remember…

“I did tell you I wanted to die a dragonrider’s death, did I not?” It was a lie, a blatant lie.

Her mother died a dragon rider’s death, but she… she died disoriented and afraid. It wasn’t what she actually wanted.

“You did,” he softly confirmed, his face almost forlorn in its earnesty.

It was odd to her. He was odd to her. 

Daemon seemed different. 

Like some of his fire went out.

Well, perhaps it was too soon to tell.

“What do you remember?” She asked. “What happened after Vhagar-?“ she paused abruptly—a sudden lump appeared in her throat. Admitting what she commanded Vhagar to do was much harder than she thought it would've been. 

Had her voice always sounded so raw? 

“Plenty,” Daemon glazed over her fragility, something she was glad for. “Baela and Rhaena were bereft, but it wasn’t until they saw the remnants of your body,” his eyes flickered to the side, “that they started to believe it.” 

That crushed her. They were left broken because of something she did.

And Daemon, he could not look her in the eye. The idea of her charred remains filled him with distaste? Sorrow? Annoyance?

It was difficult for her to know. It had been a long time since she was put in this position. 

Certainly it would take time for her to adjust. That's all it was. In time, she would feel normal... surely. 

“And what else?”

Daemon only glanced at her, then looked away.

Not this again, Daemon, she thought. That wasn't the type of normalcy she wanted. Look at me! Say something. 

Laena could not fault him for keeping his silence if the horrors that happened were too much for him to reminisce, but if he simply kept quiet for her benefit, or lack thereof, she would rather spend her time in another’s company. 

She would rather do that regardless.

Her body twisted out from under the warmth of the sheets, facing her back towards him. Her bare feet made contact with the cool stone floor of Prince Reggio’s manse.

A hand clasped around her wrist before she began to stand up.

“Laena,” he enounced.

The way he said her name was eerily similar to the night they spent speaking of brothers and mothers. Nieces and cousins.  

‘Perhaps, I too, am not the wife you would’ve wished for yourself.’

‘Laena.’

He never denied her words, but Daemon was never one to quell her worries. 

It was always left to her to mend her wounds. And his. 

“What?” She asked softly, her chin grazed over her shoulder as she turned to catch a glimpse of him.

He looked at her with something akin to remorse.

An unusual expression for him. Yet it was perhaps all too familiar. 

“After you passed…” he began, “life moved slower.”

She nearly scoffed, but managed to hold the compulsion back.

“It took our daughters a long time to accept that you were never coming back.” 

Laena winced. Another blow dealt to her heart.

“But it was not all bad, surely?” She questioned, no longer meeting his eye.

He simply stared at her. 

“I’m sure there were moments you and our daughters found joy, even after my passing. At least I would hope for that.”

And that was true for her. It was not like she wished for them to only know misery after she died.

Certainly not her children. 

If all she could grant for Baela and Rhaena was their happiness, then she would gladly do so.

Daemon observed her for a moment. “What is it you want to know exactly, Laena?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes as serious as ever. 

Ah, that was the Daemon she remembered. Always so full of suspicion and scrutiny. 

She couldn’t help the wry smile that tugged on her lips. She already knew much, but she just wanted him to say it. She needed to hear him say it.

“I am no fool to believe that you stayed a widow for the rest of your days, Daemon.”

Another refusal to meet her eyes. “Aye. What about it?”

Laena furrowed her brows. “Surely you found another wife, perhaps even had more children. A son.” 

Or two, Laena’s mind supplied.

Aegon. Viserys… Visenya. 

Daemon met her gaze once more, though surprise replaced his solemnity. 

He suddenly blinked. “I did…” Laena raised her eyebrows, silently urging him to continue. “I had two—three more children,” he corrected. “One of them was, well… the babe didn’t make it.” 

She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. Too easy. She released him. “I am sorry, Daemon.” She meant that. He offered her a nod in acknowledgement. “And what of your wife?” When he opted to keep his mouth closed, she continued her pestering. She would not accept his silence. “Rhaenyra, I presume.” 

She knew. Even if she didn't directly see it, she still would have known. 

They stared at each other for what felt like forever. 

Laena did not waver.

“I’m sure you found a way around her marriage to Laenor,” she said.

His eyes turned cold. “Do you believe I would kill your brother?”

I’m sure you would kill anyone if there was something in it for you, Laena thought to herself.  “Of course not… you loved him well,” she said out loud, opting for a more suppressed rendition of her thoughts. Daemon narrowed his eyes at her, trying to piece together where he had heard that before. At least this was more amusing, she mused, being able to run circles around him. It was a nice change from his control over her. “I simply said that you must have found a way around their marriage. Perhaps you sent Laenor away,” she suggested knowingly. 

Faked his death, she wished to add, but held her tongue. It would not bode well for her to admit what she knew in whole.

Daemon seemed to go through a flutter of emotions.  

Perhaps it was cruel how much it amused her, but she could not help it. Daemon kept her from her family, no matter how much she pleaded that they return to Driftmark, nor how much she wanted to have her mother’s presence through the last pregnancy she would ever have. 

He always denied her.

Their marriage was not born out of love, but love did grow between them. The first seven years were near bliss from what she could remember, but then he changed. He became bitter and isolated. 

Laena found herself to become cautious in return. Her normal fire became burned out.

She would not let that happen a second time.

She shall have the control now.

“I suppose I should not be surprised,” he finally sighed. “You always had your wits.” 

His compliment meant little to her. “Thank you, husband,” she mused drily.

Daemon settled further into a sitting position. “Have I done something?”

She chuckled, slipping farther from him to stand up. “No, Daemon.” 

“Then what?” He asked, scrutiny high in his voice. “There is clearly something bothering you.”

“As if you care,” Laena mouthed to herself. It was childish, she knew it was so, but she could feel herself losing her patience. 

She sat down at the bedside table and removed the silk cloth that wrapped around her hair.

“Laena,” he urged, exasperated.

“What?” She asked in a clipped tone, harsher than his. She might admit she could be just as quick to anger as he was. He brought it out in her.

She refused to look back at him, continuing to study herself in the mirror.

She could certainly feel his gaze burn into the back of her head. 

“Should we truly spend this time fighting?.. It has been a long time since I last saw your face.”

His voice was uncharacteristically soft. It reminded her of the early days, when he would try. 

He could always charm, if nothing else. 

“No,” she agreed. Laena turned her body in his direction. “You’re right, it is no good to spend this time fighting… I shall go see Baela and Rhaena.”

Before Daemon could say another word, she stood and dashed out of the room.

She left him behind, leaving him momentarily baffled before he remembered himself enough to be able to shout something after her. She was sure that it was nothing of importance. 

⇄

Laena slowly crept down the hall.

It was a small mercy the space was empty since she didn’t think she could suffer through any unneeded pleasantries.

All she wanted was to hold her daughters in her arms.

Watching them grow from above without being able to touch them was a personal hell for her.

She wanted to protect them and love them, as she used to. 

The room that held Baela and Rhaena was close to her and Daemon’s own quarters. She only needed to take a few steps before she reached the closed door.

She paused before she pushed it open.

What if her daughters remembered too? Would they blame her for leaving them? Would they cry at the sight of her? Would they even remember her?

Of course they would, she scolded herself. They were eight and ten years of age when she died, surely they would remember her face.

But that thought didn’t stop her worry from tugging at her chest. 

Laena slowly pushed the door open and peaked her head inside. One of the small twin beds was unoccupied whilst the other held two little bodies. 

Laena smiled at the sight. The two sisters were curled up together.

They didn't always share a bed, nor a room, but it was always sweet when they did. 

In the end, Laena was at least glad that her daughters still had each other.

Everything would be alright once she held them; she knew it.  

She quietly approached the bed and sat on the edge. Her sweet girls looked so peaceful as they slept. A part of her wanted to wake them, wrap them up in her arms, and never let them go, while the other just wanted to watch them sleep to their heart’s content.

Laena wasn’t sure which part of her would eventually win out.

“Muña?”

She looked to find Rhaena’s eyes open and staring up at her. 

It was jarring, but nothing else could have made her feel so alive. “Did I wake you, sweet girl?” 

Rhaena shrugged. “I don't think so… But I am hungry.”

Laena’s slight frown melted into a soft smile. “Well, how does going into the city to find something to your taste sound?” Rhaena’s eyes widened in excitement. “Mayhaps even a ride on Vhagar?” 

“Oh, yes!” Her daughter exclaimed, jolting up. “Mother, please. I would love that!”

Laena reached out. “Careful, dearest. You’ll wake Baela.” She was quite surprised Rhaena didn't already wake up her sister, given how roughly she jostled her.

Laena looked down at Baela and continued to smile softly, seeing her daughter’s eyes still closed.

It was a shame she missed so many moments like this. 

“But I want Baela to come with us,” Rhaena said, though her voice was lower, heeding her mother’s advice. 

“Baela enjoys her sleep. What if she becomes cross with you for waking her?” Laena rose a teasing brow.

Rhaena blushed. “Baela would never turn down the opportunity to ride Vhagar.” 

She hummed, that was true enough. Moondancer was not big enough for her eldest daughter to ride, nor would she be for many years. 

And both of her daughters loved Vhagar.

“Then you shall face her wrath when you wake her,” Laena teased, leaning forward with a grin. Rhaena cutely scrunched her nose in response. “I will send for our ladies to prepare us for the day.”

“Let me see the mood Vhagar is in this morning,” Laena said, smoothing down Baela and Rhaena’s locks. 

She left the girls near the front of the manse and traveled down the expanse of the sandy beach where Vhagar nested. Her eyes traveled up the expanse of her dragon's body, always amazed at the size of her. Laena was filled with an awful sense of deja vu when Vhagar turned her massive head in her direction. 

Laena detected a hint of curiosity in the she-dragon’s greenish-yellow eyes. 

She wondered if Vhagar remembered the past. Or perhaps it was only she and Daemon that were cursed with that knowledge.

“Vhagar!” Laena called. “Lykirī!”

A warm puff of air hit her. It nearly pushed Laena backwards.

Her beloved dragon seemed to be cross with her. 

She held out her hand. “Forgive me, Vhagar. Forgive me.”

Vhagar peered down at her, lowering her head to get closer to her rider. After a moment of hovering, she pressed her massive snout against Laena’s palm.

Laena could have wept from relief, instead, she bowed her head and let out a sharp gasp.

Vhagar crooned.

Laena looked back up and held her sight in one of Vhagar’s eyes. “You remember, do you not?” Vhagar blinked in answer. “...Perhaps I am just going mad. I would not be surprised after what I have seen… I saw you die, Vhagar. I saw Westeros bathed in flames.”

A low hum reached her ears. A softer puff of air hit her face.

Laena furrowed her brows in sympathy. 

“If I had known what would happen, I never would have…” she shook her head, her palm rubbing against Vhagar’s scales, “I never would have left. I never would have forced you to free me, my hāedar.”

Vhagar was not a weapon for destruction, not to Laena.

Vhagar was her first love. Her beautiful dragon.

Perhaps if Laena had lived, she could have spared Vhagar the pain Aemond caused her. Perhaps she could have made a difference.

She didn’t know. She would never know.

“Forgive me, Vhagar,” she whispered. 

Vhagar let out a keen trill. 

Laena hoped it meant she was forgiven.

She scratched the massive scales beneath her hand. “Later today I would like to take my daughters and I on a short ride if it pleases you,” Laena whispered. “Soon I would like to see my mother. It has been a long time since either of us have been to driftmark, has it not?”

Granted, Vhagar was on driftmark much more recently than Laena.

And if her mother’s memory was intact, then Laena worried how she would react to seeing Vhagar. 

Laena’s dragon was the unfortunate reason for Rhaenys’ death after all.

“Mother!”

Laena slightly turned in the direction of her daughter’s voice.

“I’ll be there in a moment, Rhaena,” she called back.

Vhagar let out a low hum.

“I shall come back. I promise,” Laena said, reassuring her dragon. 

⇄

Laena held the hands of Baela and Rhaena in each of hers as they traveled the city of Pentos.

Her children were as curious as her every time they greeted the bazaars.

She could admit the city was beautiful.

It may not have been full of color, but the buildings were large and carefully sculpted. It reminded her a bit of Driftmark.

Perhaps anything would remind her of Driftmark. She truly missed it.

“Look at this, mother!” Rhaena called.

Laena turned her head in the direction of her youngest daughter’s voice. Rhaena held a beautiful turquoise necklace. The jewels were opaque, but shaped into a teardrop; which looked to have gold tracing the edges

She enjoyed jewelry, but more so because she had to.

As the daughter of the richest man in the realm, she was often flooded in jewelry.

She and her mother could want for nothing in that capacity.

“It’s beautiful, sweetling, but it’s a bit big for you. We may need to have it altered.”

Rhaena only shrugged and laid it back down on the cart. “That’s okay, I just thought it was pretty.”

Laena softly chuckled. She watched as Rhaena grabbed her sister’s hand and ran to another wooden booth. Laena smiled at the woman in front of her before she joined her daughters. They were talking animatedly over what looked like a stuffed monkey.

Baela’s fascination no doubt.

Being able to remember the events that occurred after her demise, more importantly remembering the lives of her children, were precious to her. 

Even though she was unable to physically be with her daughters, she watched over them. Baela and Rhaena were the most beautiful view she could have ever asked for.

She was able to learn even more about them.

“Muña, I want this monkey. Kepa promised I could get a real one some day.” 

Laena remembered. 

Baela ended up getting her wish, but only after she lost so many dear to her.

“You will, sweet girl. Perhaps that will happen sooner than later.” She smoothed back Baela’s locks. 

Rhaena opted to curl herself into her mother’s side. 

“Thank you, mother,” Baela said, mirroring her sister’s action “...Can we take a ride on Vhagar now?”

Laena looked down at her with a small yet mischievous smile on her face. “I think that can be arranged. We’ll find some sweets on our way out, hm?”

Rhaena giggled while Baela urged Laena to move forward.

The three of them stopped by another post, and Laena purchased her daughters a treat, each were handed baggies of black licorice. 

The girls snacked alongside their mother as they traveled towards Vhagar’s nest.

The beach near Reggio’s manse was long and easy to spot once they left the presence of the bazaars. 

Vhagar was nearly as expansive; Laena swore she could see Vhagar’s head popping over the top of the building. She doubted she would ever tire of the excitement she felt whenever she looked upon her dragon. 

If the warm feeling she got inside her chest whenever Vhagar spotted her was in any way the same, she’d say Vhagar was always happy to see her too.

Baela and Rhaena stayed behind her as they approached. 

“Hello, my queen,” Laena cooed. Her beloved dragon crooned in answer. She laid her hand against her green scales and softly scratched the area before placing a kiss upon the lower part of her maw. “Come, girls,” Laena held out a hand behind herself, beckoning Baela and Rhaena to approach.

It was their ritual whenever the three of them flew together.

Baela, always the more eager of the two sisters, placed her hand in the same place her mother’s once was. “Hello, Vhagar,” she greeted slowly in High Valyrian. 

A gentle puff of hot air hit her in the face, making her giggle.

“You too, Rhaena,” Laena smiled. “Come.”

Her youngest took her hand and took a more cautious route. Her hand only grazed along Vhagar’s scales, but her Valyrian was more concise than her sister’s.

Laena held pride for both of them, nonetheless.

She was certain Vhagar adored them as well. She’d often find her daughters being watched by the depicted Queen of Dragons whenever they played together on whatever sandy beach they explored.

It was nice to know the girls were in good hands, even if Laena was unable to properly see them herself. 

Laena glided her hand around the side of Vhagar’s scales as she walked to the roped ladder hanging from the saddle.

Over the years she had gotten quicker at climbing the ropes, it was not the only way she knew how, but her daughters were not the same.

They often held onto her as she climbed. She doubted it would be any different now.

“Muña, muña!” Baela raced towards her, a wide smile stretching her face. “Let Vhagar lift me, please!”

Immediately, Laena gave her an amused look. When Vhagar knelt as far down to the ground as she could, she would often pick Laena up with the better part of her wing and lift her towards the saddle. It was quicker than climbing the roped ladder, but Laena never minded the climb, not even if her daughters were clinging onto her back. 

“I don’t know, Baela. Vhagar is an old lady,” she patted Vhagar’s side affectionately. “It’s good to be gentle with her.”

As Vhagar grew older and more parts of her wings started to decay, Laena preferred climbing the rope. 

Perhaps Vhagar didn’t mind lifting her up, she always did so without any needed request.

“I’m always gentle!” Baela crowed, her brows furrowing.

Laena couldn’t keep the smile off of her face. She had missed this - speaking with her daughters, jesting with them. It healed her. 

Laena hummed, considering. “I know you are. I have no doubt you would treat Vhagar with nothing but gentleness.” She looked over at her dragon, a large eye already peering over at her. “What do you say, Vhagar?” Laena glided her hand over her scales.

The she-dragon let out a high-pitch trill. Baela gasped in awe of the loud noise. The crunch of Rhaena’s feet sounded against the sand as she joined them. 

Laena prided herself on their bond, she would not lie. It filled her with joy to share such a special connection with her mount. It was another thing she missed.

Vhagar leaned over, pushing Laena back as lightly as a dragon of her size could, a sign that she would allow them better access.

Laena grabbed her daughters and guided them a safe distance away so Vhagar could properly lower herself.

It was impressive how close she was able to get herself to the ground. She was the largest dragon in the world, yet she made it look so easy.

Her wing practically flattened against the sand. Laena let Baela and Rhaena climb on first before she joined them. 

Baela and Rhaena always admired the view from dragonback, as Laena did.

They were much more vocal in their astonishment, it reminded Laena of when she and Vhagar first claimed each other.

“Can I hold the ropes, muña?” Baela asked, once her mother strapped them both in the saddle. 

Laena handed her the reins in answer, and a blooming smile crept onto Baela’s face.

Vhagar slowly clambered to a standing position and lightly shook herself side to side.

“Sōvēs!” Laena commanded.

One step, two steps, and up they went.

Laena’s breath caught in the back of her throat as they propelled forward. Rhaena and Baela cheered as they gained speed, letting out little whoops! as Vhagar crooned.

She had almost forgotten how exhilarating it was to fly. How freeing it was.

She had watched the dragons die, and even the fall of the Targaryen dynasty. 

Lucerys being the start of the end.

Her mother, killed by Aemond. Jacaerys, shot down from his dragon, leaving her sweet Baela in tears. The storming of the dragonpit. Daemon, falling to his death after sliding his sword through Aemond’s eye. Joffrey, bucked from Syrax’s back. The deaths of the dragon seeds. 

And Rhaenyra, one of the last to be slain, eaten and burned by Aegon’s dragon, Sunfyre, while her son watched.

Laena was thankful her daughters survived, but they would be forever scarred, no matter how strong they were.

She would not let them suffer this time. She would not die.  

“Jās, Vhagar! Aderī!” Laena heard Baela shout, excitement in her voice. 

Vhagar swooped down, making the girls cry out, then giggle hysterically.

The memories flashed before her eyes. Nearly two hundred years worth of Kings after the dance ended.

Only for it to end with the girl who brought the dragons back to die at the hand of the man she loved.

Daenerys. A sweet girl in truth, but wronged by many.

Laena may never understand why she saw what she saw, but she knew the gods must have favored her for a reason.

Perhaps it was a cruel joke. She would not dismiss that possibility.

The gods were nothing if not cruel.

She learned that the hard way. When the babe would not come. 

The Pentoshi maester suggested she be cut open and her dear husband paused in answer.

She remembered the look on his face, how he looked so anxious. Daemon looked at her with such worry.

Laena remembered how the pain failed to lessen and how panic gripped at her heart.

Her daughters came into the room, staring at their screaming mother with fear. 

Laena remembered how Daemon ushered them away, and she could not even say goodbye. She had to go, she had to escape.

What else could she have done?

The babe would not come.

She would not be cut open. Not by a man who pushed her away and cared not for her. Not by anyone.

She loved her daughters. Baela and Rhaena, they were her world, but even they had no say against her being torn apart. 

Laena only hoped her death would not hurt them too dearly. 

How naive she was.

They needed her and she left them. She may never forgive herself for that.

Before everything went black, Laena swore she could hear Daemon shout her name, but she couldn’t have been sure.

She had died, she knew that for certain.

Imagine her surprise when she found herself staring down at the blackened contents of her bones by the time the sun started to rise.

She remembered the melancholic tune Vhagar sang.

She remembered the almost frozen, somber looks that contorted Baela and Rhaena’s faces; like they were in a nightmare.

And Daemon… his blank expression might have been what she remembered best of all.

He offered nothing. No shock. No grief. 

Laena could not read his thoughts, she never could, but they were not always hard for her to imagine.

He must have been relieved. The wife he swept away from Westeros was finally gone and he never had to suffer her company again.

Laena pitied him, thinking back. How miserable it must have been for him, blaming everyone but himself for his own unhappiness.

Even the gods knew she was better to him than he deserved.

She was done with him. His slights, his ignorance, his infidelity.

She never knew a person could be so… exhausting.

“Circle the city, Vhagar,” Laena patted against the dragon’s massive back. “We shall not touch the ground for hours!”

Rhaena leaned back against her as safely as she could, and it made Laena smile.

This was all she needed. Her perfect children and her beloved mount. 

Nothing else could compare.

Still dressed in her riding clothes, Laena climbed up the stairs of Reggio’s manse. 

It was as if she were pulled to Daemon’s solar.

Her eyes scanned the shelves of books as her hand trailed along the railing.

She came to a stop at the desk and chair that sat near the corner of the nook. 

It was all so bizarre. 

Her last memory of seeing Daemon and Baela together, speaking learnedly in High Valyrian.

There was a babe in her belly then. 

She killed him. 

She didn’t want to, but she had to.

I saw his face, but I cannot remember it. He was beautiful… Why can’t I remember his face?

Laena sat at the desk and seized a piece of parchment. She decided to write to her mother. 

Before the week ended, she would be leaving Pentos and going home to High Tide. 

Baela and Rhaena had scarcely been there before she died. She would like to remedy that. 

Laena wrote to her mother, telling her to expect their faces soon. Hopefully she would be happy to receive them.

Heavy steps made her head turn toward the steps. Daemon’s silver hair was the first thing that caught her eye. 

“Bloody hell,” she whispered. She didn’t want to see him, especially not so soon.

Her attention strayed back to her letter.

“Laena.” Her name fell from his lips, an exaggerated tone dripping from his tongue.

Always the dramatic one.

Laena merely glanced at him as he was now inches away.

Another wave of deja vu clouded her memory.

It was a mistake to have come here of all places.

Daemon hovered over her. “You’re writing to Rhaenys?” She was surprised he didn’t glue himself to her person. “Do you know if she’s even…” his train of thought trailed off, but she didn’t need to be a genius to know where it was going.

Do you know if she’s even alive?

She did not know. She could only hope.

“If we’re alive, I must hold out hope that she is too,” Laena declared. “All of this must be happening for a reason.” 

He scoffed.

It was quiet, but loud enough for Laena’s ears to catch. She glared at him in response. 

His face softened into one of curiosity. “Do you truly think that? What reason would pertain here?”

Saving the dragons, you fool. If she were to say that aloud then he would know what she knew. She’d rather he didn’t. She’d rather he go away.

“I’d imagine that you would know better than I, Daemon.”

He just stared at her, and she him.

She refused to be relinquished in any way. She would not lay down and die.

Her fingertips rolled the now dormant pen in between her fingers. “I have been given a second chance,” Laena softly expressed. “Whether you have that same belief, reason or not, doesn’t matter to me.”

Daemon smirked, but she could tell something was bothering him. “It is clear I have done something to offend you-”

“You have not,” she interrupted, not unkindly. The offenses her husband has caused against her were many, but she wished to keep him in the dark about what she knew, for now. 

“If that were true you wouldn’t have been so quick to avoid me the entire day, Laena.”

She couldn’t help the smile that started to bloom on her face. “And what a tragedy it is when you do not get what you want, right when you want it.” She met his eye. “You poor thing.” 

He did not seem to appreciate her words, given by the scowl that now graced his features.

Laena did not cower. She did not fear Daemon, not in the least. 

She was incredulous and angry. She was annoyed by his audacity. She didn’t owe him any kindness.

He had treated her with dismissals and ignorance. And yet she was still shackled to his side.

No more. She was done with being a prisoner.

“I am here, the same as you,” Daemon said. “What have I done to earn this ire?”

She sighed quietly, almost to herself. 

“You’ve done nothing today,” Laena admitted in a whisper. “My ire,” she mocked, “has nothing to do with today. It has to do with the fact that I couldn’t even die in my own home, with my mother by my side. Instead, I was here,” she waved her hand aimlessly, “in Pentos, surrounded by strangers and a husband who could barely look me in the eye most days.”

A sardonic chuckle escaped her lips before she even realized it had formed.

She was positively exhausted. 

Laena didn’t even want to look at him. 

She didn’t want to see whatever stupid face he pulled or hear the same old excuses that fell from his lips whenever she would confront him.

Being brought back to one of the worst times of her short life was punishment enough.

This time she would not let anyone take her from her daughters again. Not a husband, her father, or her mother.

Not even the poor babe who died in her belly would take her from them.

She needed Baela and Rhaena just as much as they needed her.

“Truly pointless,” Laena carried on. 

She set down her pen in exchange for the chalice of wine that sat near the edge of the table. She took a rather small sip, willing the dryness in her mouth to go away.

“Laena, I-”

“Do you know what day it is, Daemon?” she interrupted uncaringly, finally letting herself look at him. Somehow, he looked paler than she remembered. 

After her ride with Vhagar and the girls, she took a glimpse at the calendar that hung near the landing of his solar. 125 AC, it read. If she remembered the day correctly, then the day she died on the beaches of Pentos would be a year from now. “We were put here a year before. For what? Are the gods cruel enough to believe that I would let what happened to me, happen again?” 

Was her life truly so dispensable?

No. She refused to let it be so. 

“I am sorry,” Daemon said.

She saw his lips move, and they matched the words she heard, but she must have heard him wrong.

In their ten years of marriage she could barely count the amount of times he had apologized. She only needed one hand, and it certainly didn’t require all five of her fingers.

“You’re what?”  

He sighed as she practically leaned forward.

“It has been years since I've heard you say those words.” 

Perhaps they would have meant something to her before, but now, she felt nothing.

They didn’t heal her or make her feel satisfied.

When she looked at him, all she felt was anger.

She hated him to her core. It always bubbled to the surface, but she never let it explode. She didn’t want him to win.

She wanted to be better than him. She wanted to quell her anger instead of letting it spew everywhere.

Perhaps that was the Velaryon side in her, or perhaps it was her pride.

But now, as she looked at his face, she could understand how easy it would be to just let herself erupt.

Daemon must have seen it, because his eyes downturned.

She was surprised he didn’t just walk away, she had gotten so used to him doing that.

Laena could only continue to stare at him. She stared at Daemon long enough for him to meet her eyes once more. 

It did not take long for his shame to be replaced by annoyance. “What?” He asked.

She shook her head, never severing eye contact. “When I was a girl I used to be amazed by the stories my mother and father would tell me of you. I thought you were strong and brave,” a huff of a chuckle left her lips. “It was a passing admiration, admittedly.. After you rid me of Maris and asked for my hand, I had hoped that you were–in fact–a good man, despite the rumors. And perhaps you would be my protector if I couldn’t protect myself.”

Daemon held the smallest smirk on his face. He always looked so self-assured, but Laena knew better by now. He was hiding something. “I never thought Rhaenys would ever say something good about me.”

Laena smiled, a bit cockily. “Believe me, she had plenty of awful things to say of you as well.” Her words caused Daemon to let out a surprised laugh, it was eerily similar to the one he let out the day of her funeral. She scowled. “As the years passed on, you by my side, I realized you were not a good man at all. In fact, you were bitter and so self-absorbed. I mean, have you ever cared for anyone but yourself?” She asked cruelly. 

Fire might as well have spewed from her mouth as she spoke.

“Of course I do,” Daemon answered. Due to his tone, it was clear that she offended him. 

“Please!” She erupted, a largely sardonic smile on her face. “Mayhaps the king or Rhaenyra I could believe, but me? My daughters?” Laena scoffed, looking back down at the paper on the table. 

“How could you say that?” He hissed. “Of course I care!”

She balked up at him in return. “How much of a fool do you believe me to be, Daemon? Have you already forgotten how you treated me in the last years of our dreadful marriage?”

Daemon looked away, his jaw clenched. “It was not dreadful.” Another laugh flew past Laena’s lips. “I cared for you, Laena,” he lamented, but now his eyes focused on the curl of her brow. “I cared for our children. I still do.”

Laena nodded, but it was slow, and the anger etched on her features never left. “Such care you had,” she drawled, “forbidding me from returning to Driftmark. My home.” 

“Ah,” he scoffed, throwing his head to the side in annoyance. “Do not do this with me again, Laena.”

“I shall do it as many times as I please. Until I am blue in the face,” she declared. “Mayhaps home was nothing to you, but I happened to like mine. I died before I could return to it. Do you understand that?”

Daemon shook his head petulantly.

Laena did not wish to look at him any further; she’d rather feed him to her dragon. 

Her eyes strayed to her letter as Daemon continued his brooding. 

She re-read her words, over and over, wanting to get them right. 

Laena knew she and her daughters would likely be on Driftmark before the letter arrived, but she didn’t care. It was nice to do something normal. 

And she needed to get out of Pentos as soon as she could.

“...You plan to go back to Driftmark?”

Her hand stopped mid-write. If she knew he was hovering that closely, she would have done a better job at hiding the letter.

“Wasn’t it obvious?” Laena looked at him from the corner of her eye. “Before the weeks end-”

“What makes you think I want to return to Westeros, Laena?”

She really would like to hit him.

“It doesn’t matter if you want it. I am taking my daughters with me to Driftmark, with or without you.” Her voice was slow and concise. 

By the end of her sentence, It felt as if a weight had been lifted directly off her shoulders.

Their eyes were locked onto one another. It was a game of who would break first.

Neither of them were willing to hold that title.

“You would take our daughters from their father?” Daemon asked, his eyes squinting in scrutiny.

A part of her wanted to antagonize him. What father?  She nearly asked. He was certainly not a very attentive one, especially after she died. 

“I let you deny me, time and time again. I didn’t want to part them from you, even if being around you made my life more miserable,” his frown deepened, “so I stayed when you said we would not return to Westeros.”

“You never stayed silent on the matter.”

“No,” she agreed. “But I should have taken Baela and Rhaena on Vhagar and left you behind to sulk on your own, yet I didn’t. It is clear to me that you have not changed at all, you’re still the same.”

“And you are still the same stubborn woman I remember as well,” he countered. 

Laena only became amused in return, leaning in. “It’s your choice, Daemon. You come with us, or stay here. There is no other option for you.”

His eyes strayed toward her letter, then back to her face. Within a split second, his features softened. “I do not wish to go back.”

Her head felt like it was spinning. “Why not?” Her voice came out softer than she intended.

He sighed. “The last thing I remember was leaping off Caraxes to stick dark sister right into that wretched boy’s eye.” Daemon searched her face. “Nothing bad happened here in Pentos. I do not want to destroy that.”

“I cannot stay here. I won’t.” There was no sympathy in her eyes, nor warmth in her voice. “Hear me when I say this, Daemon… Driftmark is my home, and it shall be that of my children.”

‘Pentos is my home, and that of my children.’

Daemon blinked, internally taken aback. 

Laena settled back into her seat. “I want to see my mother, and hug my brother again. I want more than this,” she gestured around the space. “My daughters deserve more than this. I deserve more.” Perhaps he had forgotten that.

She turned away from him, opting to scribble more words on the paper.

“Laena…”

She forced herself to ignore him. There was nothing more she could say without repeating herself. 

Daemon was never the most patient, and the only response he got was the scratching of the quill against the paper. Her silence irked him.

“Fine… If you want to act like a child, then I'll leave you to it.”

His footsteps carried as he left the same way he came.

Laena stopped writing as soon as she heard him finish climbing down the steps. 

She sent the letter off soon after.

Daemon laid in bed, staring up at the canopy.

It was odd to be back here, after everything.

Near the end of their time in Pentos, he admitted that he was not the most agreeable person, but he never would have thought of their marriage as a miserable one.

Certainly, Laena was exaggerating. 

She was always quite spirited. She never failed to speak her mind.

It could be frustrating, especially when she was speaking up against him and his wishes. 

He didn’t think she was afraid of anything. 

He missed her.

He loved her.

He didn’t think he ever truly admitted that to anyone but Laena herself. 

And without her, he forgot how simple life could be. 

Even now, he waited for her to come back into their bedchamber, putting their earlier squabble behind them as she often did if they ever fought. 

He waited for what felt like hours. 

Laena never came. 

Since the day they married, they always slept in the same bed together. Whether they were cross with each other or not, it was always put aside at the end of the day. 

If Laena traveled with their daughters without him, he slept terribly without her by his side.

He was an insomniac.

‘You do not sleep!’

‘Well how can I with you haunting my every move.’

Those piercing eyes, scrutinizing him at every turn. Nothing he did would ever be enough for her and she would make that known. All it took was one look.

She fought back. He lashed out.

She could make his blood boil. She knew him well. It was easy for her to use his weaknesses against him. 

But a part of him enjoyed the fight. Especially if it meant she was paying attention to him.

He knew that Laena didn't deserve his irate dispositions, he was conscious of that fact, but he was never one to be docile. 

It wasn’t his fault that she knew how to piss him off either. 

He really did hate to disappoint her, yet he often found himself doing so. Not even death could stop that it seemed. 

Daemon sighed as sleep failed to come.

He opted to get out of bed and sit by the windowsill, watching the sky change in color. A monotonous activity, but not one he was unfamiliar with. 

When the sun started to creep up, he knew his day would begin once more.

A light knock at the door made him frown. If it was Laena, she would come in without an announcement. 

“My prince?”

He was almost disappointed it wasn’t Laena’s voice he heard. She only called him my prince in the beginning of their marriage, but even then it was playful. If she were to call him my prince now, then he’d know she was cross with him.

“Enter.” 

Daemon faced his body toward the door before he stood. A young woman opened the door to his quarters and bowed her head.

A servant of Reggio’s. Her face was vaguely recognizable.

“My prince, Prince Reggio requests you.”

He only waved the woman away in lieu of a response. She bowed once more before she slipped out the same door she came.

Daemon quickly dressed himself and adorned his belt around his waist. Dark sister lightly tapped against his leg as he walked out into the hallway.

The flickering of candlelight illuminated the corridors as he made his way to Reggio’s solar.

Daemon never particularly liked the man, but he could not say he disliked him either. His feelings for Reggio were rather indifferent.

But he could not deny his annoyance at being summoned. 

Being reborn certainly did not change how quickly he took to anger. 

Daemon rounded a few more corners before he saw the bigger man who was now sitting at his desk. His footsteps caught the prince’s attention. 

“Prince Daemon!” He erupted. 

“Reggio,” he acknowledged, offering him a polite smile. To call the man a prince would be an insult. “Is there a reason I was summoned?”

As always, the Prince of Pentos took it in stride. “Ah, yes! It has been a few moons since you and your lady wife have settled back here in Pentos, yet I have not properly welcomed you.”

Daemon leaned his head back, thinking of the numerous times Reggio has made this very same speech in the past.

“I would like to invite you and your family to feast with me and mine. It would be an honor.”

Daemon thought about Laena and how irate she was with him. He didn’t know if she would even show up were he to accept. 

But she was nothing if not courteous.

“I’ll have to speak with my wife, but I am sure she would love to.” He could be courteous too.

⇄

Laena smiled at her daughters, holding her head in her palm as she listened to them slowly converse in High Valyrian.

Their pronunciation was quite good, and Daemon always remarked how similar they sounded.

“Girls,” she said softly, calling their attention. “There is something I must discuss with you. It is very important and I need you to hear me now.”

Rhaena looked at her with soft eyes, but she found Baela’s to hold suspicion.

“What is it, muña?”

“It is nothing bad,” Laena assured, reaching out to hold her eldest’s hand. “All is well, it is only… I plan for us to leave Pentos soon.”

“What?”

“And go where?” Baela asked. “I like it here!”

Laena looked between them sympathetically. “To Driftmark. To see your grandsire and grandmother. It has been too long since we last saw them.” She smoothed back Baela’s locks, then tweaked Rhaena’s chin, earning her a smile. “Do you not agree?”

Rhaena shrugged. “I like grandsire.”

Baela turned her head to look at her sister, furrowing her brows. “What about grandmother?”

“I like her too!”

“Girls,” Laena chuckled. “I am sure you both love your grandparents, as they love you. And I’m sure that they miss you. I just… it is time we head back to Westeros, do you not think?”

They looked at her blankly.

It was almost jarring to remember that her daughters barely even spent time in Westeros before she died. A total of four times, and the last time they visited, Rhaena wasn't even out of her swaddling clothes. For ten years, Pentos was their true home. Short bursts traveling to the other free cities and her rare trips to Westeros could not be counted. 

So much was taken from her. From them. She hated it.

She would give them the world if she could.

There could never be a stronger love for her than the love of her children.

“Would we go by ship?” Rhaena asked. “Or… by dragon?”

Laena smiled, touching both of their locks. “I would like you two to ride with me on Vhagar. We have done it many times before, it shall be no different.”

Baela looked happy with the prospect.

“What about father?” Rhaena asked. 

A question Laena dreaded to answer.

To be far from Daemon would be a joy she may not be able to succeed in. Knowing his nature, he’d follow them just to be spiteful. 

At least he would follow her to be spiteful.

Much may have happened. Her former husband lived many years after her, and he could have changed, especially during the war, but she had seen much to know that he was also the very same. Unfortunately, Laena did not have the gift of reading his mind.

Perhaps that would actually be a curse.

She did not know everything. She did not see everything, but she saw enough. 

Some of it was difficult to wrap her head around, and more memories kept on filling her head. 

It was odd.

She wished she could know… why me?

“I will have to speak to him about that,” Laena said softly. “Your father, he is reluctant to go back to Westeros.”

“Because of his brother?” Baela asked, knowing of the strife between Daemon and Viserys.

“Perhaps. The king, well, he was not fond of your father and I getting married. But I imagine even he has come to accept it by now.”

Laena knew he had. If anything, it was Laena’s own mother who was never able to come to terms with it.

Laena could not blame her, especially now.

“Is there a chance we would go without father?”

Laena looked into Rhaena’s earnest eyes. The question surprised her. “I… I don’t know, Rhaena. That could be a possibility.”

“What?” Baela sat up, jostling Rhaena beside her. She looked at her mother with something akin to dread. “We can’t just leave without him, muña!”

She lifted her eyebrows. Baela cared for her father, despite his absences. Laena could understand that; she still cared for her own father despite the way he wished to control her very life as he saw fit. When he wasn’t ignoring her, that was.

But she was not as blinded now, as she was then.

“I will not force him to come,” she answered earnestly. “It is his choice.”

Laena knew Baela loved her. There was no lack of a relationship between the two of them, but Baela’s combativeness could be a struggle. She was not afraid to argue.

Laena loved that about her, truly. It showed her strength and unwillingness to bend. 

Her mother once said that Baela reminded her of Laena herself, but Laena was not sure if she deserved that high of praise. If she were like Baela, wouldn’t she have gotten the courage to leave Daemon sooner?

Perhaps. Perhaps not.

“Then I’ll make him come,” Baela asserted, nodding to herself in assurance. “He’ll have no other choice, I’ll make sure of that!”

Rhaena looked over at her sister with a smirk.

“I have no doubt, sweet girl,” Laena said, unable to keep the smile off of her own face.

She turned her head in the direction of the hall that led to her solar when she heard a quiet creak. She felt the weight of her daughters’ stares in the back of her head. Their easy banter now broken.

“Muña?” Baela asked. 

Laena looked back over at them. “I just heard something,” she answered their puzzled expressions. “A noise or…”

Baela’s head perked up after a moment and Laena noticed how her eyes strayed from looking at her face.

“Baela, Rhaena, I-”

“Kepa!” Baela exclaimed. 

Now both of her daughters were looking at the doorway. Laena turned her head once more and was met with Daemon leaning against the post. He had a small smile on his face, clearly one reserved for Baela, and Laena hoped it was for Rhaena as well. 

His eyes then looked at her. 

Laena broke away first, feeling her spirits drop immediately. 

“I need to speak with your mother for a moment, girls. I’m sure we’d appreciate some privacy.”

Baela and Rhaena seemingly deflated at his lack of attention, Baela more so, but she didn’t argue. 

Laena looked at them, a sympathetic smile on her face. She loathed being alone with Daemon, but she would not make a scene in front of their children.

“Go,” she whispered to them. “I’ll come to your rooms once we’re done.”

Rhaena nodded and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, an action followed by Baela, then stood up to walk out of the room.

Laena watched the two of them grant Daemon with the same courtesy before they left.

⇄

Daemon peeked his head out, watching them as they walked down the hall.

“Is there a reason you did that?”

“Why didn’t you come to bed last night?” He diverted, asking his own question. 

When he met her gaze, all he found was pure contempt. It was incredibly subtle, something Laena learned to master quite well. If he didn’t know her as well as he did, he would have missed it.

Laena settled back, leaning against her arm as she continued to sit on the floor.

“Not that it matters, but I slept in Rhaena and Baela’s chambers. They shared a bed as they often do.” She glanced at the fireplace, her eyes dancing against the flames.

For a moment it left Daemon distracted before Laena spoke again.

“It felt startling to be with them again.” To be able to touch them; hold them close. The words went unsaid, but he heard them all the same. “Maybe it’s odd, but I missed them. I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about how happy I was when they were born. Such perfect creatures, and they were mine,” Laena yearned. Daemon watched her. She was so wistful when she reminisced, he could look at her for hours when she was soft like this. “Each time, they were so small.” She chuckled softly, “I remember how scared you were to hold Baela. You were worried you would break her.” 

Daemon remembered. He remembered it well. 

“You were so happy, Daemon. It made me happier to know just how much you loved them, and I did not know that was even possible, because when I looked at their little faces, the joy I had was unimaginable,” Laena said. “And I knew right then and there that I would do the best I could to be worthy of holding the title of being their mother. I was not perfect,” she finally looked over at him, her eyes shining, “I have my fair share of… regrets, but at least I was there.”

His jaw ticked in irritation.

He was such a fool. To believe that Laena was simply reminiscent was such a foolish notion. This woman has had it out for him as soon as they woke up in this damn city. 

And now, here she was, staring at him with such loathing.  

It had been such a long time since he was subjected to it, he’d almost forgotten how scorching it was.

“Is there a point to this?” He asked snidely. “I wonder, does it bring you joy to insult me?” 

“Forgive me, am I hurting your feelings?” She mocked. “I wanted to spend the morning with my daughters and then here you come, rudely disrupting us.” Daemon couldn’t hold back his smile, this was utterly ridiculous. “Is something funny to you? Do you care to share the jest?”

“I have forgotten just how dramatic you are,” Daemon shot back, his voice hard. “I have come to speak with you, not to argue. It seems that is all you want to do, however. You have been nothing but unaccommodating to me.”

“Unaccommodating?” She questioned, as if it were the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. Her sitting position became forgotten as she pushed herself up to her knees. “What accommodations do I owe you, exactly?” 

Daemon watched his wife as she stood. Her hair was bound in a high bun, loose strands of her curls laid gently against her face. She wore a simple blue gown with small jewels adorned on the shoulders, a lacy pattern etched into the edges of her sleeves. 

She was truly so beautiful. It was infuriating. 

“We are both here, Laena. It is a confusing situation for both of us, is it not best that we figure it out together?”

He looked at her with as much sincerity as he could muster and yet her face never changed. Her eyes were sharp and her mouth curved down into a frown.

She closed her eyes, lightly shaking her head. “I cannot do this,” she whispered.

Daemon barely caught it. “What can you not do? Tell me.”

He was trying so hard to be patient. He could not understand why she was being so difficult in return.

“Do you truly not understand? I cannot live this lie,” she emphasized, her eyes creased in distress. “Not again. It was tiring to keep up this farce of an arrangement.”

Daemon frowned. “Arrangement?.. You mean our marriage?”

Laena extended her arm out, gesturing at him as if to say exactly. “I never wanted a husband. I never wanted to marry Maris, but it was what my father demanded of me. The son of the Sealord of Braavos,” she said exaggeratedly. 

Gods, he remembered the man. An absolute drunkard. A fool more like.

“When my father came to understand just how difficult that man was, well, it was almost funny how hard he tried to push back the eventual union between us. In that, I suppose I was grateful, but my father made it clear that marriage was not an option for me. Whether I married Maris or not, I had to marry someone. It didn’t matter what I wanted.” 

All Daemon could do was listen to her. He had never heard her speak of Corlys in that way, nor did she ever talk of Maris.

And she sounded so angry. He was surprised she wasn’t spitting fire at him. 

“I must admit that I was quite taken by you, curious even. When my father told Laenor and I that the Lady Rhea Royce had passed, he suggested that I catch your attention. Considering you were banished at the time, my father thought there was a good chance you would visit High Tide. It was a nice surprise when you ended up attending Laenor and Rhaenyra’s wedding. I remember how irritated the king looked,” Laena laughed indulgingly, though it sounded fake to Daemon’s ears. “My father certainly thought it was amusing.”

“They were not exactly fond of each other,” Daemon uttered.

“My father is rarely fond of anyone.” Daemon tried to meet her eyes, but it was like she was staring right through him. “In the end, all that mattered to him was if he got his way.” She shrugged. “I did what was asked of me, yet I could not help but notice you seemed awfully distracted. It was easy to understand why when I saw you speaking with Rhaenyra. It did not hurt me, how could it? Despite us being kin, I hardly knew you. If anything I worried for my brother. I did not want him to be hurt by you simply because he was married to the woman you wanted.”

Daemon looked toward the fire, a subtle smirk on his face. “We all knew of Laenor’s preferences. There was no need to be-”

“Jealous?” She finished. He did not bother to confirm, nor did she seem to care. When he looked back, she was no longer looking through him, but at him. “Well, despite my curiosity, I was a bit relieved. If you were not interested in me then I did not have to marry you and I was perfectly fine with that. A childish part of me hoped that my father would eventually move on from the idea of me getting married, that he would find some way to dissolve the betrothal between Maris and I. I knew how much Laenor and Rhaenyra’s match pleased him. I was hopeful that it would be enough. All I wanted was freedom and I was foolish enough to believe my father would grant me that.”

“When you came to driftmark a few moons after, I felt such dread. I remember that so clearly. But oh, my father was delighted to see you, as he always was. I would not be surprised if he was actually in love with you,” Laena said, humor clear in her admission. “I did not want to marry you, but after you killed Maris and asked for my hand, I figured there were worse options. Besides, what could I have done? Say no?”

“Laena,” he said, honestly taken aback by her simplicity. 

She only laughed. “Do not act as if I had any real say in the matter. My mother may have been furious about our union, but my father wasn’t and that’s all that mattered. His approval, and yours of course. Do not get me wrong, I wouldn’t have minded getting to know you better, but marriage? Marriage is only another word for imprisonment.”

She must be positively psychotic. 

“I remember, in the rare times you would muster up the courage to look at me, how you would try to assess my thoughts on the matter. Yet, in the end, you would always choose what best suited you. I wanted to go home and you denied me. I had spent years of my life trying to quell your worries and your guilt,” she hissed. “How I felt, that never mattered, it was always about you… I am done with that now. No more trying to make you feel better about your own transgressions. No more excuses. It was never my fault. I am done. You can do as you please, but I will no longer be a part of it. I will not be your shadow ever again.”

Daemon could only shake his head. “I only ever did what was best for us.”

⇄

Laena scoffed, an amused smile stretched her lips. “What was best for you.” 

‘Daemon did what he thought best.’

‘Daemon only does what is best for Daemon.’

“I may never know what could have happened if we went back to Westeros. Perhaps I still would have died, but maybe I would have been less afraid. What I made Vhagar do… I did it because I was afraid. What other choice did I have?” She felt a familiar sting start to build from behind her eyes. She took in a deep breath to stave off the quivers in her voice. “At least I died on my own terms, but it was no dragon rider’s death,” her voice came out quiet and sharp. “I did not truly think, I just took my chance. I did not want to risk being cut open for a babe that might not even survive!”

Her words were cruel and she hated saying them, but she meant them.

“I would never do that!” Daemon matched her sharpness. He looked absolutely furious that she could possibly insinuate that. 

“Wouldn’t you? I doubt the idea of killing a woman makes you squirm. Not even one that’s your wife.” Daemon never admitted to murdering Rhea Royce, not to her, but Laena heard the rumors. She didn’t know what to believe. But after ten years of her husband’s company, the possibility of it became less and less impossible. She has quite literally witnessed Daemon kill people right in front of her. He never batted an eye. 

“I would never hurt you, Laena.” he said, easily avoiding her insinuation.

Yes you would, she almost said. “You have hurt me, Daemon. How you could even deny that is beyond me.” Daemon looked as if he would rather be anywhere but here. “You cannot even hold yourself accountable. It makes you so uncomfortable when I call you out.”

“I doubt anyone enjoys that,” Daemon drawled. 

Laena rolled her eyes. “You don’t care what anyone thinks about you. All you do is laugh because everything is a joke to you.”

“I can tell you now that nothing about this is funny,” he shot back. “Do you see me laughing?’

“I suppose I should be thankful then. Can you leave now?” She walked around him to take a seat at her desk. She crossed her legs comfortably as she opened the drawer to gather some parchment. 

“Laena..” His voice sounded strained. “I know that I was not the best husband to you, but I did the best I could with what I had.” Laena stopped moving, his words made her freeze. “We were happy. I know we were happy.”

Laena let out an amused exhale. 

Happy?

‘Did you love her?’

‘We were happy enough.’

She turned her body in his direction. His face was open, relaxed. She could only look at him with incredulity. 

“What an arrogant little creature you are,” Laena said, a creeping smile stretching her lips. “Ten years I have wasted with you. The only prize I won were my daughters, and for that I could never regret being your wife, but I still wanted my freedom. I would like to think you could understand that better than anyone considering how unhappy you were in your first marriage.”

“You were not a prisoner, you were my wife,” Daemon said sharply. 

“Aye, I was!” Laena exclaimed, her eyes widened the slightest amount. “And I loved you,” she admitted bluntly. “I excused much of your behavior because of that love. I told Rhaena that you were ‘doing your best’ as a father because of that love! I am not perfect, the gods know that I know, and I have let you get away with much, but I will not allow it anymore. I will not be subdued nor shall I excuse you. I am the blood of the dragon, just as you are, and I will not be your lesser.”

⇄

She stared up at him with such defiance, he had to admire her for that.

She was strong-willed, his brave girl.

“I never saw you as beneath me, Laena.” How could he? She was so full of life when they married. All she wanted to do was fly on Vhagar and have adventures. “Our marriage was not made out of love, but it grew into that.” She scoffed, looking away from him for a moment. “I loved you,” he insisted. “I loved you the best way I knew how, and I still love you.”

“No. Do not say that to me. I don’t want to hear it.”

”You act as if I’ve never said those words to you! I have, Laena!”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t love. I was shackled to you.” Daemon did not take kindly to that brash disclosure of hers. “I have been suffocated by your infatuations,” she stressed, “for years on end. Serving girls, serving boys, you certainly did not discriminate, husband!” Laena said, speaking as if she were telling a jest. To her, it may as well be. “And now you speak of love.”

“I remember you enjoying a woman or two.”

“And I remember how upset you were, were you not?” She asked softly. “Excusing it as her being ‘below my station,’ as if that ever truly mattered to you.”

A kind maid. Her name was Thalia, if he recalled correctly. She was under Prince Reggio’s service and became quite close with Laena. 

When he found them abed together, he demanded her to leave; loud and livid.  He was not fond of sharing.

He remembered how Laena cried when Thalia was forced to depart Reggio’s manse.

He remembered how, even in her grief, she condemned him. She shouted and cursed him. 

Daemon had stayed silent, but he kept his eye on her as she flailed about the room. 

She would not deem to look at him for days thereafter.

And for the rest of her life, her eyes would only harden when she looked upon him. She rarely gazed at him sweetly, but he remembered when she spoke of dying a dragon rider's death, and how she longed to go home. She looked at him sweetly then, but it was short lived.

She despised him, he knew that to be true. She loved him, he knew that just as well. 

“Yet if I ever spoke to you of your Pentoshi squire, then I was made into the overbearing wife.” Laena spoke with clear bitterness in her voice. 

“What do you want from me?” He asked haughtily. He could not help himself.

A familiar sadness swarmed her eyes. It was always hard for him to look at her when she was like that.

He was always the one responsible. 

“I don’t want anything from you,” she admitted, her voice soft. She was always good at that. “I don’t even want to be around you. When I look at you, it makes me sad. You make me feel sad… What I want is to be with my children. I have lost so much time with them and I must remedy that. They will always be my joy.”

For someone who was accused of being careless, he cared quite a bit about what she had to say.

“And perhaps it is true that I have disappointed you, that the life we had together was not the life you wanted, but I cannot find it in myself to care anymore,” she stated frankly, even a bit amused. “I have spent so much time trying to understand you and it has gained me nothing. I loved you, Daemon, but I cannot remember a time where I ever liked you.” 

A bitter man, Laena once called him.

She was not wrong.

“You hadn’t disappointed me, Laena. Half of the time I didn’t even know why I was so… distant,” he confessed. 

It was never because he settled. It was not even about Rhaenyra. He would be lying if he said he never thought about her, but to say he never wanted to marry Laena would also be a lie. Laena gave him peace, he hadn’t had that for a long time before she came into his life. She gave him a family, one of his very own. She always strived for more.  

How could he not have wanted her?

She pulled him in, and he was happy to oblige.

“It hurt me to hurt you.” 

Laena hummed. Her smile was bitter.

Sometimes he wished he could see inside her head. He wanted to know what she was thinking. 

It wouldn't be too hard to guess. She was probably cursing him.

“Whatever grievance you have with me, let us mend it,” he spoke at last. “Reggio has invited us and our daughters to dine with him and his family. I accepted.”

“How presumptuous of you.” She sounded tired. 

It felt as though they had been arguing for hours. Perhaps they had.

“I know it may be the last thing you want right now, but Reggio has been good to us. If we must indulge him from time to time, well, I can imagine worse endeavors.”

Like watching you burn yourself alive.

“It’s awfully polite of you.”

“I am trying,” he said, perhaps a bit too truthfully. 

⇄

Laena did not care.

She was going to leave as soon as possible, she decided. Sooner than she intended.

Daemon was who he was. He will not change. She had quite literally watched his life, and he may have had his moments of calm, but he was still the same. Perhaps worse.

He was a vile man. Abusive. Murderous. 

She was not stupid enough to trust him.

He had spoken sweetly to her before. Honey practically dripping from his lips.

He has said words that made her melt, surprising her with how soft he acted. It was all a lie.  

She had learned that, if not before, the day the remains of her body hit the seafloor of Driftmark. 

He couldn’t even comfort her children during the eulogy. Instead, he laughed. He laughed, for Rhaenyra’s benefit. 

It was bad enough her Uncle Vaemond was using her death as an opportunity to shame Rhaenyra and Laenor’s sons, but it was even worse when Daemon laughed like a fool. Gods, even her father looked like he wanted to slap him for that.

Her own funeral could not even be about her!

And now, her dear husband had the audacity to invite her and their children to dinner with the Prince of Pentos? 

He was acting like all of this was normal, like their lives had not been destroyed.

They were back alive, that was not normal. Was she the only one struggling with that fact?

Laena hummed. “It is the least we can do,” she played along. “I shall see you tonight then.”

She gathered her papers and abruptly stood. If Daemon were any closer she might have jostled him.

She genuinely feared to touch him. She didn’t want him to touch her.

Before he could say anything more, she glided out of the room and went to find Baela and Rhaena.

“We’re leaving tomorrow, before the sun sets,” she announced once they were found. “I will have our ladies help us pack, but take what is most important on hand. Everything else will travel by ship.”

Her girls looked at her, blinked, and then the questions began.

Laena put on a Velaryon blue dress, similar to her morning gown, but adorned with more jewels and gold. An old gift from her father.

She kept her hair as it was, but added a small hairpin that laid near the bottom of her bun.

Rhaena and Baela wore pink and purple dresses respectively, with matching frills that went down to their feet. 

Laena styled their hair into intricate french braids. 

She liked to do their hair herself, as she liked to do her own. 

When Daemon began to actively deny her trips to Driftmark, Laena began to fashion her daughters’ hair in dreadlocks. A style her brother and father both wore. 

By the time she had died, her girls had been wearing dreadlocks for a few years.

Rhaena had kept the style, but Baela had decided to try something new.

Her mother would always compare Baela to her, and Laena remembered how it made Baela smile, but it was always a sad one. 

Her poor Rhaena was not as fortunate. 

When the war started, Daemon became more attentive to them, yet she could not say there was much of a difference.

Laena wished she could have held them and protected them, but she was only a bystander.

She was never able to intervene. 

When she thought of that now, it just made her sad.

“Mother?” Laena looked over and down to where the voice resonated. “Are you okay?”

Rhaena’s sweet face was contorted into a precious look of concern. Laena could weep, she loved her so much. 

Laena reached out and gently rubbed her thumb over her sweet girl’s cheek. “I am perfectly fine,” she said, smiling softly. “I was just thinking.”

Rhaena accepted her answer easily enough. “Will father be escorting us to dinner?”

“We shall escort ourselves,” Laena proclaimed.

Baela walked over to them, a disgruntled look on her face. She pressed herself into Laena’s side. “I do not want to go to dinner,” she grumbled. “Prince Reggio is too loud,” she turned her nose up at the thought. 

Laena suppressed a laugh. She remembered the look of displeasure on Baela’s face when she had once theorized that Reggio wished to betroth his sons to her daughters. 

Baela was never one to fantasize of marriage, not like her sister had.

“This will be our last dinner, at least for a while, I swear.” Laena kissed the top of her head for good measure.

She grabbed both of their hands in hers and left her solar. 

They walked the short distance down the hall, the candle light acting as their guide.

When they turned the corner that was attached to the dining room, Laena was suddenly taken back to that disastrous day.

Daemon sat at the head of the table on one side and Prince Reggio sat on the other. His wife and children were sitting near him respectively while Daemon was all alone.

“Shit,” she whispered to herself, too quiet for her girls to hear.

She was discovered before she could even make up a hypothetical escape.

“Ah, Lady Laena!” Prince Reggio greeted.

Everyone’s attention was now on her, Daemon’s especially.

Rhaena seemed to squeeze her hand tighter, but perhaps that was only her imagination.

“Your highness,” she greeted politely. “It was kind of you to invite my family and I to dine with you tonight.” Laena’s eyes surveyed Reggio and his children until they landed on Reggio’s wife. Her name was Alba, a kind, busty woman, albeit much quieter than her husband. She offered her a kind smile.

“Of course, you are our honored guests!” Reggio cheered.

Guests for ten years, Laena thought.

What an undeniable farce.

‘They are using us!’

‘It’s refreshing, isn’t it?.. A simple transaction. We have dragons, they have gold.’

Pentos could never be her home, not with all of the baggage that came with it.

Laena led her children to their seats. Baela sat opposite of her near Daemon while Laena and Rhaena sat on the other.

It was an arrangement that was established every time Prince Reggio invited them to dinner.

They scooted in their chairs and the servants quickly laid out their dinner for the night.

Roasted Mutton, Peas, Asparagus, Blackberries, and an abundance of Cheese was revealed in a synchronous fashion. 

Laena was thankful that Reggio wasn’t as boisterous as the Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms could be. She once had to suffer through eighty courses for her nameday, a demand of her father. No one could say that Lord Corlys didn’t enjoy a lavish celebration. 

She ate her serving slowly, listening to the moderate conversation that was tried here and there. 

Reggio spoke most often, as he normally would, and Laena pretended to listen.

It was safe to say that her presence was not a joy. She always tried to keep a polite smile on her face and speak when it was wanted of her. She had perfected the veil of courtesy in the public eye.

Yet she was not feeling the need to pretend anymore.

“My Lady Laena,” the sound of her name pulled her back in. Instead of pushing around the peas on her plate, her attention focused on the Prince of Pentos. “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. Is all well?”

Hardly, she thought. 

Laena unconsciously glanced at Daemon in the corner of her eye. Her husband was watching her like a hawk. “I am quite fine, thank you.” She set down her fork, a sudden foolish thought taking over. “There is actually a matter I have been meaning to discuss with you, your excellency. Well, more so an intention.”

“Of course, what is on your mind, my lady?” Prince Reggio asked.

“I… I have planned to take my daughters and myself back to Driftmark soon.”

She did not miss the quick glance Reggio took towards Daemon before his eyes landed on her again. She would not like to see whatever stupid face Daemon was making.

“I see, we would be sad to see you go.” I’m sure you would. Perhaps sadder to see Vhagar and Moondancer go. “How soon do you plan to depart, my lady - if it isn’t inappropriate of me to ask?”

Laena touched Rhaena’s shoulder, finding comfort in her presence. “Tomorrow, before sundown.”

She heard Daemon choke on what she assumed to be the wine he was busy scarfing down. 

It was so quiet she almost missed it.

“My, that is soon,” Reggio softly chuckled.

It was good-natured, but Laena still found no humor in it.

“I apologize for any inconvenience.” She could feel Daemon’s eyes searing into the side of her face. “It is only, I miss my mother and my father. It has been quite some time since I last saw them. And I know my daughters are eager as well,” Laena smiled. 

She hated how the Pentoshi Prince surveyed her daughters, as if to determine their eagerness himself. 

Perhaps she shouldn’t have said anything so soon. 

Now she would have to suffer through the rest of the evening, listening to Daemon’s low tone and Reggio’s false advances.

She could only be grateful Baela and Rhaena were not as troubled as she was.

Once the dinner was done, Laena made sure to leave the room as quickly as she could without raising suspicion. She kept Baela and Rhaena clutched close to her, causing Baela to question their rush.

Laena heard the sound of heavy footsteps before she could muster up a response.

“Laena!” Daemon barked. “Do not walk away from me!”

She stopped, steeling herself internally.

“Girls, go to your rooms,” she whispered. “Your father and I need to discuss… some things,” she ended weakly.

His presence loomed behind her. She could almost feel him breathing down her neck.

Baela and Rhaena both gave her matching looks of concern. They might as well have been twins.

“All will be well,” she assured them. 

Baela tried to gain a look at Daemon behind her, but she must have disliked what she saw considering the deep frown on her face.

“Mama…” she said, warily.

Baela and Rhaena loved their father, but they were not unaware of his anger. They had heard the shouts, the pounding footsteps, and regretfully, they had seen her tears. 

Laena had found that Baela would not speak to Daemon for days after he made her cry. It was sweet how protective she was, but it was Laena’s job to protect her, not the other way around.

“All will be well,” Laena repeated, softer. “Have Elise dress you both for bed. I will come later.” She leaned down to kiss them each on the forehead, effectively ending any protests. “Say goodnight to your father.”

With one last look, they padded around her.

No words were exchanged, but the sound of soft, quick kisses greeted her ears.

She did not want to send them away, but it was better that they would not be around to witness what was undoubtedly going to occur.

Daemon was angry, and in all honesty, so was she. 

“You have truly outdone yourself, Laena. Making a spectacle, embarrassing me!” He hissed lowly.

She hardly embarrassed him. Perhaps he was taken aback, but no one else knew. 

He followed her as she descended further into the hall.

“I have been trying to be civil and patient with you, and you have been making it difficult.”

“Of course, it is always I at fault, never you,” she retorted. “I feel as if all I do is talk through you because you never listen.”

He grabbed her wrist, and pulled her so that she spun around to face his fury.

A tight grip, surely it would bruise.

“What are you talking about?”

“How did you think this would end, Daemon? Did you truly think that we would go back to the way it was? That I would stay here? That I would make my daughters stay?” She snapped, meeting his glare with ease. She ripped her wrist from him. “I told you we were set to leave!” Her voice strained. “I was not jesting, yet I’m sure you took it as that.”

“Pentos is where we belong!” 

“We don’t belong anywhere!” Laena hissed his past words back at him.

‘We are the blood of Old Valyria.’

‘Old Valyria is gone, we don’t belong anywhere.’

Once it came back to him, he laughed. “Is that what you will do now, throw my words back at me?”

“Why not? It is perfect,” she said softly, bitterly.

“You are acting like a child.”

“Well, perhaps that would endear me to you more.” That wiped the satisfaction right off of his face. A frown creased his brows. “I feel sorry for you,” she said, her voice now soft, whiplashingly so. 

Laena turned her back to him and continued down the hall. She reached the door of her small solar and opened it. By the time she went to shut it, Daemon blocked her ability, pushing it back open.

She stepped back, unflinching.

“You feel sorry for me?” He asked, indignant, even a bit crazed. 

“I do, because this is who you are. You see no faults within yourself. You are vile, and evil, and I shall not sully myself even more by pretending you’re not,” she spat. He bristled in response. “If you wish to stay here, I will not stop you. I meant it, I am done trying to appease you. I shall do what I know is best for me and my children.”

“And what is best is leaving me behind? Their father, your husband!”

Laena could not contain her bitter laugh. “And what an amazing job you did on both accounts,” she mocked. “As far as I am concerned, we are not married anymore. I died, whatever ties we had to each other are over.”

“That is mad, it doesn’t work like that,” he drawled.

“As if you would know! Tell me, who have you known to come back to life after years of being dead?” She could tell she was pushing him, but it felt so good to just let it all out. “Besides, you remarried, you told me so, and it was to the woman you so dearly wanted. It is better that way, for both of us, me especially. I’ve found that women are often at the mercy of their husbands, I do not wish to be one of them.” Not again.

“Is that what it has come to, hm? Such spite you hold for me.” 

Internally, Laena rolled her eyes. He took her life and he has the audacity to act as if she is the one wronging him.

“I don’t owe you anything, Daemon. I owe you no loyalty. I was only a project to you.”

He scoffed. “That is not true.”

“No?” She asked, letting the question hang in the air. “The famous Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen, a man loyal to no one but himself and his dragon. A man who, no doubt, thinks he is above everyone and everything. Yet, what could you possibly have offered me? A second son with no lands, or titles, or coin except that of your brother’s… In the end, I deserved better than what you gave me. I deserved better than what was offered.”

Laena turned from him and went over to the fire place, adding more fuel to stoke the flames.

“I do not know what you wish for me to say, Laena.”

“A man of few words, you are,” she murmured. “There is nothing you can say, fear not. There is nothing left to keep me here.”

Laena looked at him, finding some amount of sympathy within her. “Stay if you wish to stay, Daemon. I once believed that you were better than this,” she gestured around, “but perhaps I was wrong. And that is fine, Pentos is a fine place, but it is not my home. So, stay or don’t. Go to Rhaenyra if that is your wish. Perhaps she will be happy to see you. Mayhaps she remembers too.”

Daemon grimaced. It was so slight that she almost missed it.

He certainly remembers what he did then, Laena mused.

“It is not Rhaenyra I want,” he said, softly.

Laena smiled, but it was out of resentment. She wanted him to leave her alone.

“What about what I want?” She asked, a seething tilt to her voice. The question was familiar to her, like she had heard it from someone else before.

“You,” he stepped towards her with intent, “are my wife. My priority.”

Elegantly, she got to her feet. What a funny thing for him to say, considering she wasn’t a priority for him before.

It never mattered if she was his wife. 

“How long shall this charade continue, Daemon? Will you be spouting continuous acts of love until I depart tomorrow?”

“You’re not leaving, Laena.” 

It was phrased more as a statement than a question.

How could she make it clearer for him to see that she meant every word she said?

“I am. Tomorrow, before the sun sets.”

“All of this is insanity, Laena, you must know that.”

“I am not the one pretending here.”

“What exactly am I pretending about?” He sneered.

She looked at him, a hard frown between her brows. “You loved her, Daemon. I know it was so. You married her.” You could not marry her soon enough, it seemed. “She was the wife you wanted. You swore your duty towards her, or at least as much duty a man like you can have,” she smiled. “I was never your priority, dead or alive.” Laena raised her eyebrows. “I am not a girl of sixteen anymore. I am older, and hopefully, wiser.” 

If it weren’t for his clenched jaw, she might’ve imagined there to be no thoughts inside his head.

“I am taking my daughters with me to Driftmark and I will never let anyone take them from me again. I will protect them better than you ever could. I always had.”

He was silent for longer than she liked. She’d rather he left her alone than stay, studying her.

“You mistake me, Laena. I would never deem to take Baela or Rhaena from you. Is that the kind of man you think I am?”

Laena only shook her head. It was in both parts belief and disbelief. 

Daemon separated her daughters from each other for six years after she died. He let her mother host Baela, only for Rhaena to be neglected in his care. 

She saw him as no man at all.

“I see you as you are, Daemon. I have said it over and over.” She could feel the angry tears spread across her eye line. This constant ‘song and dance’ was mind numbing. “You can act as if you care about me, like it pains you to see me hurt, but that is all it is! An act.”

She had seen it herself firsthand. In front of others, he would be resistant. No one could share in his grief, if he even had any to begin with. 

Anytime Laena’s name was mentioned in any scenario, Daemon would either smile his crotchety smile or look away in distaste. 

He was monotonous. 

“An act?” He sneered. “You know everything, don’t you?”

“I know more than you would think,” she retaliated in kind. 

She almost laughed at the scowl that reconstructed his face. 

He could be so dramatic. 

“Is that so?...” And as if she said something to add to his turmoil, he nearly erupted. “How do you know how I feel?”

“Because if you cared about me you wouldn’t have laughed before my body hit the fucking sea floor, Daemon!” She matched his intensity.

It did not matter if it was for Rhaenyra’s benefit, he should have kept his mouth shut.

Even her daughters looked at their father with disgust. He was an embarrassment.

“If you cared,” she continued; slower, “you would have held Baela and Rhaena as they cried for me, not hand them off to my mother!” 

As soon as her eyes pierced into his, she knew what she had done. 

Laena took in a quiet breath of regret. She could not even last three days.

His brows were furrowed. “Did Baela and Rhaena tell you?”

Then she exhaled, slightly amused. “No. I do not think they know anything from… before.”

He looked like he didn’t know whether he should speak or shut up. It was a funny look on him. Ordinarily, he would simply say whatever was on his mind without care. It was his way.

“Laena, I…”

“What?” She inclined her head, awaiting whatever stupid words would fall from his lips. “Have I surprised you?”

Is your only defense to say my name?  She wanted to ask.

“I don’t understand how-”

“How I knew you embarrassed me?” She finished. “Even dead I could not escape your humiliation.”

“Laena…” Perhaps now he was the one embarrassed. 

Doubtful.

“I haven’t a clue why I remember what I remember,” she answered the unasked question. “There could be a number of reasons. A punishment, a joke, or mayhaps a warning. All I do know is that I have been a spectator for nearly two hundred years.”

“Two hundred years?” He asked, almost to himself.

She ignored him. “It was a sad show, indeed. I was finally back in my home, only as a burned corpse,” Laena stated bluntly. “So many people were there in attendance… and no one cared for me. My brother and daughters amongst the only ones who truly grieved. At least I can take comfort in knowing that they loved me enough to do so.”

⇄

And no one cared for me.

Daemon remembered the way Vhagar’s fire turned Laena’s body into ash. It was so quick.

Of course he had seen it in war. Caraxes was able to burn men by the dozen with nothing left to speak of. 

But to see it happen to Laena, it was almost unnatural.

He had felt utter despair build inside of him. His eyes burned so painfully that he feared they would melt away.

Laena was right there. And then she was gone.

‘Dracarys. Vhagar. Dracarys!’

He tried to stop her. He called out for her.

He was too late. Pitifully so.

By the time Vhagar opened her maw and spurted flame, it was like his heart was torn out of his chest.

He stood there frozen for so long, breathing shakily.

Then he couldn’t breathe at all. 

He collapsed to his knees, just as she had, and weeped. He remembered how he struggled to catch his breath.

He loved her, and she was dead.

He would dream of her nearly every night since. Sometimes he would dream of her well and happy in bed, holding their newborn son. More often than not he would see a repeat of that terrible night. Laena would be engulfed in dragon fire and there was nothing he could have done.

There was one time when he saw her, standing before him, and her face was a collection of molten flesh. Red and black in both measures.

He could barely recognize her at first.

The being that wore Laena’s burned face had simply stared at him. She looked at him with nothing but dull judgement. She had always judged him, even when she was alive and breathing.

When he first came to Harrenhal, he saw her there too. Only she was the same as he remembered her -- dark, smooth skin, and full lips. She walked amongst him, whispered into his ear. But even then, she always had that glint of disgust in her eye.

She had haunted him in every aspect.

“It wasn’t until I was… put back into my body,” Laena said forcefully, “that I realized how sad my life was. I truly pity myself.”

She scoffed out a harsh laugh. It angered him how doomed she made it all sound. Their life was good. Certainly much better than she made it out to be.

“That is nonsense,” he blurted, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, “you exaggerate.”

“Do not insult me, Daemon,” she raised her voice, speaking sternly. “I saw my mother and my father when they received your raven, I saw it. The news caught them by surprise, and after their initial shock wore off, they grieved. I won’t deny that of them, but my father barely managed to shed a tear and my mother… Well, let’s say she was more upset over Laenor’s death than my own. I never thought I would care about how people felt when I died. I thought everything would simply be over,” she scoffed out a laugh. “But now, I know things I wish I didn’t, and all I have learned is that I meant nothing to the people who were supposed to care about me in the first place!” He thought he saw tears gathered in her eyes, but when she blinked, they were gone. “Not even my own fucking funeral could be about me.” 

⇄

Laena could still picture the scene perfectly. 

Near the castle walls, her daughters sat alone. Daemon stood astray from them, scanning the crowd and even occasionally looking out to sea.

Even Rhaenyra comforted her boys more than Daemon did his own daughters whilst they mourned their mother.

Nonetheless, the two of them certainly spared enough time to leer at each other shamelessly.

Her body had just hit the seafloor and her cousin and husband could not keep their eyes off each other.

It was unfortunate that Laena’s mother had to take over his job as a father; comforting Baela and Rhaena in his stead. It was made even sadder knowing how they wished for him to give them kisses and tell them that ‘everything would be alright.’ 

Alas, he was only a lust-filled beast. 

It would not be cruel to shield them from him. Their lives would no doubt be better for it.

“I had a little speech prepared for me,” she mocked, “though it was not entirely just for me, was it? My uncle surely took any opportunity he had to boast about how true and thick Velaryon blood was. Gods, I love my family and I am proud of it, but who cares about blood purity?” 

Of course she knew the answer. Too many. 

Even her father, the man who declared that history only remembered names, cared for blood purity. 

It was nice to take part in an ancient bloodline, Laena would not deny, but she never saw herself as above others for it. That was ridiculous.

She smiled at him, a smarmy smile that let Daemon know she was far from happy. “I could not be given one day of remembrance. Not one day of my own. What is sadder than that, I must know.” She threw another log into the fire. “Heirs and betrothals and flirting and fucking nieces on the beach of my homeland were far more important than a day spared for a dead woman, no doubt.”

Her words were not said out of jealousy, but it did feel good to see a drop of shame shine in his eyes. 

He was not a man to be shamed, yet he deserved it more than anyone she knew.

“We all grieve differently,” Daemon said. 

“Well, that is true enough,” Laena whispered. “You had waited quite awhile for her after all. It must have been hard for you.”

He smiled; cruel man that he was. “We were simply comforting each other in our grief. I imagine you would have done the same if it were me in your stead.”

Laena guffawked. “You have the gall to say that? To me? The wife who suffered through your poor company for ten years while you sulked and sheltered yourself as if you were some poor victim. Do not forget that it was you who refused to go back to Westeros, not I! Comforting each other in our grief,” she repeated. “You should have gone to the seven hells when the world finally rid of you.”

“I find it hard to believe that I did not,” he admitted, a hint of a question in his voice. When she said nothing, he spoke again, sighing. “I never meant to offend you.”

She wondered if he ever heard himself speak. All he wanted to do was offend. She was no fool to believe otherwise.

“It is just sad to me, how unimportant Laenor and I were to you and Rhaenyra.” There was no sadness in her voice as she said those words, however. She held Daemon’s stare, unyielding. “Look at what my life became without you,” her voice became shrill, obscenely so. “Droll tragedy.” 

Daemon caught on quickly. “Laena…” he said in that begrudging way of his. Perhaps those words swirled inside his head as much as they did inside hers. 

It might have been in poor taste for her to imitate Rhaenyra, considering the suffering her cousin went through during the dance, but Laena was tired of holding her tongue.

She looked up to Rhaenyra, loved her even. It seemed her cousin did not share the same sentiment.

Laena pressed her fist against her chest. “What’d you think of my life by comparison?” Her voice became deeply gruff and more nasal. Her princely husband was certainly easier to mock, yet it was still a poor rendition. She was never a mummer. 

⇄

Amusement was sparkling in her eyes. The slightest smile adorned her lips.

Had she not barely sipped from her goblet during their meal, he would have thought she was drunk. He might have even been amused by her display himself if it weren’t for the cruelty in her smile. 

He was almost amazed by how unrelenting she was.

There were times when she could not let something go, but at the end of the day, they were normally able to set aside their quarrels.

It became more difficult to do that in the latter part of their marriage. Laena was not as… forgiving. 

"Well," she laughed, "at least it was quite humorous. Certainly moving." 

Resentment and white-hot spite was her ardor.

And what could he say to her? 

“You were to blame for every pathetic disservice you felt was given to you,” Laena hissed. “I never asked to be isolated from my family, I never asked to be carted off to Pentos and made into this dreary wife! You were the one who sequestered us off, you were the one who did not wish to go back to Westeros, not I! Yet… it seems as if I was the one to take the blame. I was made the enemy. How was that fair?”

“I have never blamed you for that, Laena. You must stop twisting my words.”

“What am I twisting, exactly? The king banished you, exiled you, yet that never stopped you from coming back before you were supposed to. At any moment you could have done the same with or without me and my daughters, I wouldn’t have objected, and you know that. You cannot even argue that you did stay for Baela and Rhaena, because you were never there!” Laena exclaimed.

Daemon gritted his teeth. “That is not true!”

“Yes it is!” She nearly shrieked, and she was never one to raise her voice. “Do you think an occasional Valyrian lesson, only going over dragon commands, with Baela up in your solar was sufficient enough? And do not forget how you practically ignored Rhaena’s existence!”

His jaw ticked. “Laena-”

“Enough, Daemon. No more excuses,” her voice lowered. “My daughters deserved a proper father and you couldn’t even do that! I died and you became even worse than you were! Gods, you couldn’t even wait a proper mourning period before you remarried! Baela and Rhaena were still wearing the bruises and cuts that boy Aemond gave them!” She looked at him in a dumbfounded way, like he was the most dull-witted man alive. “Do you have a shred of decency inside you?” It was like he was getting berated by his mother. “I would have liked to say you do, but I have seen you commit many terrible crimes, more than I’d like to have been partial to. As if I had a choice,” Laena muttered. He could barely hear her. 

She seemed so sad. He made this beautiful, bright woman so sad. So angry.

He loved her. He wanted her.

“You spared Rhaenyra. You spared her, yet you did not spare me. Why? I deserve to know.”

‘You were a child. I spared you. ’ He recalled. 

“I was younger than my cousin,” Laena intoned, “more so a child. Why then was I worth less? Is it because I am Velaryon in name, not Targaryen?”

Daemon could not hold back a scoff. “Pray tell, do you tire of your exaggerations? What you say is absurd.”

“Aye, absurd,” Laena mocked. “Do not act as if the wellbeing of my house was ever a concern of yours. Oh, that truth I know very well. You simply used me- us, as you pleased. By the gods, you and Rhaenyra sent Laenor away while he was grieving me!”

Daemon frowned. “How did you-”

“I know everything, Daemon. I might just be cursed.” 

She was so cynical. “Laenor wanted to be free. He hated court life, I could not blame him for that.”

Laena smiled cruelly. “Aye, that’s why you isolated yourself on Dragonstone for nearly another decade. It was good to know your habits didn’t always change.” She let out an amused breath, shutting her eyes for a moment. “You would have killed him if he refused, Daemon. Despite whatever closeness you had. He knew it, I knew it, and you knew it. So please, do not act the innocent. Having him leave was not a kindness, it was selfishness.” Daemon looked uncomfortable under her scrutiny. “Do you truly think the idea of leaving behind his sons would have been praised if his mind were cleared? No, he loved those boys. He told me so, he wrote to me, saying so. You used his grief to your advantage, and you killed an innocent man to do it.” She waved her hand. “Granted, you and Rhaenyra may not have taken any of that into consideration, but I want you to know that Laenor’s life, having to hide in the free cities, was no freedom. He was miserable. In the end… he died miserable, full of regret.” Her face softened. “I want to see him again. Alive. I want to protect him as I wish I could have.”

“I’m sure Laenor can protect himself,” Daemon uttered.

“He’s my brother,” she said, as simple as that. “He and my daughters have suffered enough.”

Daemon came closer, slowly prowling towards Laena who took a step back. It gave him a moment of pause. “You hold so much hate for me,” he said. “Do you fear me as well? You thought I would cut our son out of you, so you commanded Vhagar to burn you alive instead.” His words were crass, dangerous.

Her face grew darker. “I did it to get away from you,” she hissed resolutely.

As soon as her declaration left her lips, the hatred slid from her face and was replaced by surprise. Daemon could only imagine what his own face was expressing.

He always felt guilt for not being fast enough to save her. 

But to hear her say that she chose death because of him was unimaginable.

Laena went towards the door and he grabbed her arm before she could pass him by. He didn’t want her to leave, even when she hurt him.

“Let go of me, Daemon,” she said, her voice shaky, close to his ear.

She broke her arm free before he could heed her demand. 

He listened as she opened the door. Her footsteps echoed down the hall.

Laena felt her mind run wild.

Why couldn’t I keep it together a little longer?

Why did I have to say that?

Fool. Fool. Fool.

She rushed down the halls and nearly flew out of the manse, her feet crunched against the sand.                                                                                                                                                                  

She felt distressed. Her thoughts were going a mile a minute. 

Laena gripped at the roots of her hair as the feeling of unshed tears started to infiltrate her eyes. Her heart was pounding and a great sense of fear held onto her tightly.

She tried to take in deep breaths, but she felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

Her legs felt weak, like she would collapse.

A soft cooing reached her ears before she could delve further into her panic.

Laena’s head shot up as she walked further into the sea line. A large shadow flew through the sky, a familiar sight.

Vhagar was circling over her, slowly descending to the ground. 

Laena sniffled, wiping the tear that managed to fall down her cheek. Vhagar let out another soft coo, a sound that surprised most when they heard it, but not Laena. She knew her dragon, and she was not just some beast. 

Vhagar knew Laena needed her. They shared a soul.

The ground shook as the she-dragon landed. 

“Vhagar,” she whispered, a scratchy sound. 

Laena was only a mere foot away from her. She broke the distance, touching the large snout that Vhagar offered her. A short puff of air hit her, followed by a quiet groan.

Laena stared into one of her yellow eyes. “I’ve made a grievous mistake. I ruined everything. I’m sorry.” Vhagar nudged into her palm as gently as a creature her size could. “Vhagar, iksan vaoreznuni!” 

“I regret what I did. I regret it. It was a cruel thing I asked of you, and no doubt it scarred my children.” Laena hoped they had been in bed, she hoped they didn’t see anything. She had been hoping that ever since she first woke up. “I would do anything to change that! Perhaps that is what my curse is; having all of these memories! A dragon should never have to burn their rider alive. Iksan vaoreznuni.” Laena pressed three kisses to her scales, another pledge of her sincerity. “I wish I said a proper goodbye; to you, to my girls, even my brother. You all deserved better than what I left you with. This is my punishment,” she wept, squeezing out more tears. 

Vhagar kept nudging her. She purred low in her throat. Laena might even say her beloved was trying to cheer her. Even comfort her.

Laena nuzzled her in kind, running her palm over the warm, rough skin.

Slowly, she slid to the ground and leaned against the dragon. Vhagar’s wings were curled around her, cocooning her in a sense of comfort and privacy. They might as well have been the only creatures on Earth. 

Laena wound her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. The sound of the wind and Vhagar’s soft chuffing was all she could hear. It was a familiar tune, one she had grown to love as it gave her a semblance of peace.

“It is odd, I think,” she began, “to watch your children grow without having the ability to touch them. I remember it quite well. I was there, so close to Baela and Rhaena, yet they could not feel me, nor hear me. I was this forced, invisible presence.” Her head turned slightly, trying to look up at Vhagar, but could only meet the center of her gullet. “Did you sense me, Vhagar?” 

Vhagar huffed. 

“Gods, I must be losing my mind,” she whispered to herself. She just wished she could understand it all. Not just why she knew nearly everything from Rhaenyra’s reign down to Daenerys’, but what was she supposed to do with it? 

She may never know, but she will never stop asking why.

“My daughters were beautiful little girls and they grew into beautiful women. They were strong, more powerful than was credited to them.” Laena peered at the holes left in Vhagar’s wing, then reached out to touch the leathery texture. Vhagar chittered from the feeling. Laena smiled wistfully. “I wonder if my mother thought it was unfair that she outlived me. Perhaps I'll ask her, if she remembers as Daemon and I do. It would probably be better if she didn’t.” Laena leaned her head back, slipping into another bout of melancholy. “It wasn’t until I had first opened my eyes that I realized how utterly alone I am in this world,” she breathed. Her mouth relaxed into a frown, but then another thought made her smile just as quickly. “Well, save you, my girl.” She scratched Vhagar’s scales. Her mount let out a pleased rumble. “You and my daughters, it is enough, I know… Baela and Rhaena, they are my heart. And you, Vhagar, are my soul.” It was the one thing Laena was always certain of. 

Laena felt the puffs of air hit the top of her head as Vhagar snuffed her. The she-dragon lightly nudged the back of her head with her chin, purring. Her contentment was clear, and she was always a vocal creature when expressing any emotion. Laena loved that about her.

“I know Aemond made you happy, at least for a time. For that I am grateful,” she admitted, “but I am here now. I won’t leave you alone again. We will grow older together, I swear. And my children will have a better life for it.”

For the second time that night, Laena cried. What she wanted to say was said, and now she could finally mourn the life she lost without being ashamed of it.

Daemon only slept an hour through the night.

Laena slept no better.

She was nervous to see her mother and father again. She saw them differently now. She loved them, but she could no longer look past the way they used her.

She was their daughter, not a pawn for a king or a Sealord's son or a second son.

They were not much better when it came to Laenor.

Yet, Laena was a woman. She had no value but that of making heirs. Her father certainly saw it that way.

She thought of her parents the entire day, while actively avoiding Daemon.

Baela and Rhaena had an abundance of questions to ask her about last night, but Laena could only offer them half-truths. As much anger as she held for Daemon, it would not be right for her to use that in order to change her daughters’ views of him as well. 

She wanted them to make their own decisions. Let Daemon prove himself to be the fraud he is.

Laena dressed them in their riding clothes and tied their hair up.

“My lady,” Elise said from behind her. Laena stood from her crouched position in front of Rhaena and faced her lady maid. “Prince Daemon is waiting for you near the sally port.”

She sighed. “Another attempt to keep us here, I’d wager.”

“I could not say, my lady,” Elise offered her a small, sympathetic smile.

“I don’t understand why he won’t just come with us,” Baela pouted. She had spoken with Daemon earlier in the day and it had not gone well. Laena didn’t know the exact details, but her daughter told her that Daemon was unrelenting in his insistence that he stay in Pentos.

“I wish I knew, sweet girl,” Laena hummed. 

Mayhaps he became traumatized by the war as he seemed to suggest. Mayhaps Pentos was a balm for him.

It didn’t matter.

Laena had to put herself first now, whether that was selfish of her or not. 

“What I don’t know is why we waited until it was night to leave,” Rhaena added. She was tired and cranky. 

“That was always the plan,” Baela said haughtily.

Laena felt some of her anxiety dissipate. “Alright, no fighting.” She caressed Rhaena’s pouty face. “I know you’re tired, but it won’t take longer than a day to fly to Driftmark. The raven should arrive by the morning if it hasn’t already. Waiting till now just gives my mother more time to prepare for us.” 

And well, Laena liked to travel by night. It was peaceful.

“I will make sure neither of you will slip out of the saddle,” Laena teased.

A goofy grin spread Baela’s cheeks. 

Rhaena leaned against her. “Vhagar would never let me fall,” she declared sleepily. 

Laena hummed, balancing her weight. 

She looked over at Elise. “Has the ship reached the port yet, Elise?” She had paid much of the coin she had collected for a ship large enough to carry the extra clothes and items her and her daughters would be taking with them. She would have asked her father, but she did not wish to find out if he would answer her request or not.

It was something she feared when she was pregnant with her unborn son. It was why she never asked her mother or father to come rescue her. Perhaps they never would have come. She didn’t know if she could have faced that pain.

But once she stepped foot on Driftmark, she would find her answers.

“Yes, my lady. Your belongings are being loaded as we speak.”

“Wonderful.” Laena had already hung a pack from Vhagar’s saddle with a few items that they needed before the ship would arrive on Driftmark. “You will be riding with the girls and I, won’t you?”

Elise looked at her for a moment, unrealizing that it was her Laena was speaking to. “My lady?” 

Laena raised an eyebrow.

“Me? On Vhagar?” Laena nodded, smiling. “My lady, I- I have never ridden a dragon before.”

“You have been around Vhagar plenty, she likes you.” Elise looked unsure, frightened even. Laena felt a little bad for her. “I need you with me, my friend.” Laena grabbed her hands. “I will make the same promise to you as I made to my daughters, I won’t let you fall.”

Elise looked down at their hands, then her eyes slid to look behind her at her daughters. No doubt Baela and Rhaena were grinning madly at her. They were fond of Elise.

She met Laena’s eyes. “Can the saddle sit four, my lady?”

“Only three, I’m afraid, but I will sit behind all of you, rest assured.”

“Off the saddle? Is that safe, my lady?”

Laena smiled, teasing. “I have done it before. There was even a time when I took the saddle off of Vhagar’s back, and it was heavy,” she chuckled. “I nearly fell off of her doing so.”

Elise looked at her as if she were crazy. She might just be, but she had wanted to know what it was like to fly freely without any restraints.

Daemon had done the same before; as well as her mother.

Laena had seen that beautiful girl, Daenerys, do the same after she brought back dragons into the world. She seemed to take to it quite easily.

Laena touched the top of her girls’ heads and thanked every god that they were there with her. “It’s time to go, hm? You said goodbye to all of your friends, and you can always write to them, of course.”

“I know.” “Yes.” Baela and Rhaena said in unison.

“Alright, come.” Laena let them go first while she and Elise walked behind them, side by side. 

The length to the sally port was not as short as the length to the dining hall, but it wasn’t that much longer.

They only had to walk down a few more halls and there Daemon was, a few feet from the exit.

What a sight his brooding figure was.

Why he thought she wanted to speak to him after last night was simply another quandary she had to ask herself about her former husband.

He always said she could not let things go, but it seemed he was much the same.

When he saw them, he smiled. It was that same slow-growing smile he would give her whenever she appeared in front of him. 

He was good at that, trying to endear her to him with this unbegotten softness.

Baela and Rhaena went over to him and were crushed into a big hug. A reminder of the one he gave them after she died. A small gift of comfort, only to stand there silently thereafter and walk away.

It took everything in her to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “Elise, please take Baela and Rhaena outside, I need to speak with my… husband,” she reluctantly spoke the title.

Elise hummed. “Yes, my lady.”

Daemon did not put up a fight when his daughters were swept away. Baela looked back at Laena, a hint of pleading in her eyes, before she was taken outside.

Baela hoped Laena would be able to convince Daemon to come with them.

No, Laena didn’t want him to come, but if it made her daughters happy, she would try.

“Have you been out to see Caraxes at all?” She asked, pushing herself to make conversation.

He smirked. “Oh, aye. He was quite irritable. He’s been keeping his distance from Vhagar.”

Baelon, Daemon’s father, rode Vhagar before her. Aemon, Laena’s grandfather, rode Caraxes before Daemon. They were brothers, close and fierce in their devotion. 

Baelon and Aemon rode their dragons together which built a different type of bond between the beings. 

It was true that Caraxes was not known to be docile, but he was more friendly to Vhagar than Vhagar was to him. 

Before Laena died, one could even say the two dragons were close.

Laena’s beloved was a lonesome creature. She liked her solitude, just not for it to last forever. It was why Vhagar called out to her when she was a girl. Vhagar wanted a companion. A rider.

“Is that so? How queer.” Laena looked away from him to focus on putting her riding gloves on. 

“Yes, quite abnormal,” he mocked her. Laena looked up, his eyes bored into hers. “Vhagar was never the fondest of me, but now, if I even try to get close to her, she makes it clear that it would be the last thing I do.” 

“She’s protective of me,” Laena excused.

“Aye,” he said. “I thought that she might just be mirroring the anger you so strongly have for me, but then I wondered… ‘what if she remembers the Gods Eye?’”

Laena was not surprised. If she had thought of that, she figured Daemon would not be far behind. 

“Well, if we remember, why can’t our dragons?” Laena asked. 

“It seems that we are the only ones that remember,” Daemon reiterated. “Baela and Rhaena seem to have no clue. Nor Reggio or…”

“Your beloved squire?” Laena snorted. 

“You make it out to be more than it was,” Daemon remarked. “I haven’t seen him at all since we woke, if that pleases you.” A mocking tilt to his voice. “Laena, I have only ever truly wanted you.”

She had no response to his folly. 

He would practically flaunt the man before her. During dinners and times of leisure, she would not be surprised to find the two of them together; chatting or touching. Daemon never cared to spare her from their companionship in public, if anything, he relished in it. 

He would trail his fingers down the man’s arm, whisper something filthy in his ear.

And if she happened to come upon them or simply be there, there was no shame from either of them. No care shown for her and the embarrassment she felt, knowing her husband was unfaithful. 

There were a few times she could remember forgoing their bed chamber because of that insult, only for Daemon to come to her the next morning and be so sweet to her. He would kiss her shoulders and her neck. Tell her how he couldn’t sleep without her by his side.

He hardly slept when she was by his side.

If she ever dared to be as comfortable with another man as he was, he would be furious. 

Daemon once killed a man who dared to ask if he was inclined to ‘share her.’ A crude question she could admit, but Daemon cut the man’s head clean off his shoulders in answer. 

Laena could still remember how warm his blood was when it hit her face.

The day he found her and Thalia in bed, she feared he would do the same thing to her lover as he did to that man. He ran her off instead.

Daemon could have his fun, but not her.

“I just need to know if you will come with us to driftmark. Baela wants you to go.”

“And you don’t.”

“I want what my children want. As long as they’re happy, I will be too.”

“They are happy,” Daemon said. “They like Pentos.”

Not always. Sometimes Rhaena felt like a failure to you. Sometimes the fact that she didn’t have a dragon would weigh on her because she thought that was why you ignored her. It didn’t matter what I did, nor what I said. A father’s love was craved, I would know. 

Even Baela began to resent her father later in life. Even if it was miniscule. ‘Sometimes I think I hate him.’ Sometimes she would want to throttle him. Laena knew that fury well.

“And do you want to know why that is?.. It’s because I made sure that they were loved and good and lacked for nothing! I did that, all while you shoved your head into books, fawning over dragonlords, and how you were slighted by your brother. But when you waltzed in, they would be so happy to see you, none of it mattered.” If she was a little bitter about that, so be it. 

“What is it you want to hear, Laena?” He hissed back. “That I regret it? That I should have been there more? You haven’t been shy so far, so if there is an offense you want to accuse me of, simply say it!”

“I have said plenty! Only a fool would not be able to piece it all together, and you are many things, Daemon, but you are no fool.”

She was being generous. There were times she thought of him as the biggest fool she knew. Even so, it wasn’t entirely a lie. It was the nicest thing she could stand to say to him.

To her surprise, he grabbed her hand, and she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t say why. “I will be better, Laena. For you, for our daughters.”

Oh yes, sweet like honey, he was. A familiar tune. Sweet words. Sweeter promises.

One time, she had been pleading with him for their family to go back to Westeros permanently. Baela was six, Rhaena was four. She wanted them to know their family better. The scarce and short visits to driftmark were not enough and there was no true reason why they could not stay there, regardless.

Daemon’s reluctance was infuriating and she became frustrated, causing their discussion to become heated. Daemon ended up exploding, getting in her face, warning her to quit her whining or he would shut her up himself. 

It was the first time Laena had truly felt fearful of him. She had burst into uncontrollable tears. 

And oh, that surely surprised Daemon. She never thought she could see him look so guilty, nor would she ever again. She had tried to stifle her emotions, but it was no use. 

It was like her husband had morphed into another man, one who was soft and kind. He knelt in front of her and stuffed his head into her belly, muffling apologies into her skin. It shocked her. Her tears were forgotten and her fear was replaced by confusion. 

She didn’t know what she should have done at that moment. Her body worked on impulse while her mind tried to understand what was happening. 

Her fingers curled into his hair and she just… played with it, as if he were one of her babes. 

Through it all, her face was set like stone. 

He apologized and swore he would never do it again.

She should have left him. She wanted to, oh how she wanted.

And yet…

She forgave him. 

She loved him. 

What else could she have done?

“Is Pentos the only place you can do that?” She stretched herself thin for him, it felt. “Come with us,” she squeezed his hand, “to Driftmark.” 

She didn’t want him to come, but was that entirely true?

He shook his head. “It is easier here,” Daemon whispered.

“You want to live in the past,” Laena realized. She dropped his hand. “ ...You have your regrets, and I have my regrets,” she said. “Staying here… I cannot make that same mistake again.” Even to her own ears, her words sounded remorseful. “Not even for the love I still hold for you.”

They stared back at each other, their eyes shifting from one to the other.

Ever so softly, Daemon reached out and held her close. 

For the first time in years, he pressed his lips against hers. Her fingertips lightly grazed his arms.

“Stay,” he breathed, continuing to cage her in while her own arms fell to her sides. 

“I won’t.” Laena studied him. His eyes. His nose. His lips. “This is what you do, Daemon. You can act so sweet, but you will always resort back to who you are,” her words came out slow and concise, no room for argument. “You do not want me, you want control. You want what you cannot have.”

It was easy for her to disentangle herself from his grasp. He didn’t try to fight her on it. 

He looked like she tore out his heart and crushed it beneath her foot. 

His mouth moved as if there was something he wanted to say, but no sound came out.

Nothing but nothing.

“I cannot be who you want me to be,” she said, her voice as low as a whisper, but just as sharp. “I have failed my daughters, I have failed myself. If I stay, I fear I may never leave and I cannot do that again!” She nearly stamped her foot in absolution. “I cannot fail Baela and Rhaena again.”

“You were not a failure. You loved them and they loved you, Laena. I know they missed you every day that passed.”

But how could you know?  She thought. You barely acknowledged them.

Laena held her tongue. There was nothing else for her to say. She was finally going somewhere she was wanted.

She walked past him towards the exit, her head held high.

“Laena,” Daemon began. She was only a hairsbreadth from the outside. “You need me.”

She looked back at him, her body still directed towards the passage. “No,” she answered. “I never needed you.”

Laena didn’t wait for a response. She walked outside and was met with hot air blowing against her face. Vhagar rested near the shoreline, her wing splashing water every so often. A playful gesture.

Baela, Rhaena, and Elise were near the deck, their cloaks billowing in the breeze.

She walked towards them, never looking back. 

Chapter Text

She had learned that the world was full of mysteries and parallels. Different…universes. Different conclusions.

One where her mother was queen and she after her. One where she and her brother had lived long, full lives, and were happy. One where the dragons never died.

The bright place, Laena decided to call it, was beautiful.

Whether it was the Seven Heavens or a recreation of what Old Valyria used to be.

It was full of color and light. Creatures, ones she had seen and others she had not, were there in equal measure. A fascinating show of pure magic. Utter magic. 

The bright place was infinite and strange. Beautiful, but serious. 

How she felt there, she could only describe as distant.

She remembered seeing her family. The ones she lost, the ones she never met. Her grandmother, her grandfather. 

She had seen people she had never known.

Yet there is no one she remembered better than her faceless boy. The babe who died in her belly. 

Never had he once left her embrace. 

Lucerys, when he was killed by Aemond and Vhagar, became another presence she remembered. The boy who appeared to her, dressed in the clothes he had died in, as she once had. 

She remembered flashes more than pure memories in the bright place. Laena remembered being on the ground more than anywhere else. 

She remembered how Lucerys held her hand when they watched Rhaenyra burn the clothes he last wore. The two of them were invisible as everyone around them mourned. 

All in attendance had grieved, but the most notable person was Rhaena. Her sweet girl.

Lucerys was to be her husband. More importantly, he was her friend. 

It seemed she was often forced to suffer alone. Forced to be a mother in the time of heartache

Laena was left utterly useless.

In the face of retribution and war.

“This will not end well, will it?”  She remembered Lucerys asking her, his voice but a whisper.

“No,” she had said.

She could still feel the phantom hand in her own. How it made her feel alive, if only for a moment. . 

She had wanted to hug her daughters. She wanted to say she was sorry.

Every time she tried to get close, she went unnoticed. It was as if she was never there at all.

Lucerys was right. None of it ended well.



Laena could never say she was an overly pious person. The Fourteen Flames were the Gods she had come to know, but she was certain there could be others. The Seven perhaps, though she never much cared for them. 

When she died and was brought to the bright place, she had hoped that the Fourteen would look after her children.

In a way they had. Yet the war had happened. Baela was left with severe burns and no dragon, while Rhaena was perhaps better off but still burdened with loneliness. 

Her daughters used as pawns in the game once everything was settled.

She looked at them now, their hair billowing in the breeze, whoops of excitement racing ahead of them, and all she could think about was how she failed them. It killed her to know that she was unable to protect them.

Especially her Baela. Her first born, the daughter who was forced to marry Laena’s bastard brother so she could escape another more unworthy candidate. 

Though, Laena could argue that Alyn was worse.

If she ever saw him, she might just slit his throat for what he did to her daughter.

She held no love for Corlys Velaryon’s bastard sons. Their very existence was a slight to her mother.

Her father had lost everything, and yet ignored the children he was supposed to care about. His own granddaughters, in exchange for… strangers. 

If anyone deserved Driftmark, it was Rhaena. If not Joffrey.

Laena never knew Alyn or Addam, she only knew what she saw after she had died, but she would never call them her brothers. She only had one brother. Laenor. Her only friend. The one person who never wanted anything from her.

The one person, besides her daughters, who grieved for her. 

Her brother died not long after Lucerys. One could argue it was from heartache.

He never had a chance. Exiled and wondering what could have been.

As the clouds parted, Laena leaned to the side, allowing her a glimpse of the large castle below.

A mixed feeling of dread and elation filled her. She was finally here.

After everything, she was here. Home.

And yet, a part of her wondered if it was the right decision. 

“Embrot, Vhagar!” Laena commanded. 

Baela and Rhaena screeched in excitement when Vhagar dipped down, the she-dragon answering them with a grumble. 

Elise, on the other hand, was holding on for dear life, praying to the seven for her survival.

“It is alright!” Laena tried to soothe. “You’re safe, Elise! I promise!” With the wind blowing in her face, she could be difficult to hear, but luckily Elise was closest to her. 

Her friend was not comforted by that, given the way she started screaming the faster they descended.

Laena laughed, feeling like a little girl again. 

If she had stayed in Pentos, she most likely would have killed Daemon herself. 

Despite some of the anxiety she may feel now, it was better than how it was.

At last, she was free.

A screeching caw greeted her once Vhagar was a few hundred feet from the ground.

Laena looked to see Meleys extending her neck, her maw wide open.

It was a warning, a clear sign that if Vhagar came close to her, she would not hesitate to attack.

Rook’s rest, Laena remembered. 

An ache gripped her heart as she looked at Meleys, her mother’s dragon for nearly half a century.

She had grown up with that dragon. Her mother would take her on flights before Vhagar came into her life. But then, they would fly together. Side by side.

Laena had watched as Vhagar surged up from below to clamp her teeth around Meleys’ neck. She had seen the last look between rider and mount. She had watched her mother fall to her death. An air of acceptance veiled in her demise.

Laena knew that condition well.

The day Meleys’ head was paraded around the streets of Kings Landing was the beginning of the end of the dragons.

It was an act of pure villainy. A cruel show of power, false as it may have been.

Laena was forced to watch the she-dragon’s head be cut off from her body. Her mother laid broken and dead underneath what was left behind.

A sickening sight in its entirety. 

The Dragons may be fearsome, but they were also beautiful and intelligent. Not a tool for war or propaganda. 

Vhagar let out an ugly, screeching roar that would have easily deafened anyone close enough to her. Baela and Rhaena were evident enough, covering their ears to feign off the sound.

Her own warning to Meleys that she would not simply take any beating given.

“Laena!” Elise shouted out, her voice clear in worry. 

“It’s alright!” Laena squeezed her friend’s arm. “Lykirī, Vhagar! Lykirī! Meleys is not your enemy, what happened is in the past.” A weak assessment, she could not deny. An even weaker appeasement. She had never dealt with this sort of thing before. Never had she dealt with two dragons at odds with each other after remembering the life they lived before.

Laena could not blame Meleys for her aggravation, Vhagar had killed her. 

“We are all friends here. I swear.” Her gloved hand brushed against thick scales. “Embrot, Vhagar. Ninkiot.”

Vhagar huffed, but quieted. It was clear to Laena that her beloved was weary of The Red Queen given the wide berth made between them as she landed. Meleys never once stopped hissing in their direction.

Laena could only be grateful they didn’t try to attack each other.

“Sȳz riña, Vhagar,” Laena cooed. "Lykirī.” 

Meleys was still screeching, extending her neck. 

“Rȳbās!” Laena looked over, taking her attention off of Vhagar and the ministrations of unstrapping Elise. The voice was eerily familiar. “Lykirī, Meleys!” 

It was her mother in the flesh. 

Rhaenys, like a dot compared to the massive red dragon before her, was stroking her mount’s scales. 

The more words that were spoken, the more Meleys began to relax. Laena, as always, was amazed by their connection. A strong bond.

‘I won’t leave Meleys.’

Her mother never did.

“It’s grandmother!” Baela gasped. “Rhaena, look!” 

“I’m not blind, Baela!” Though Rhaena sounded just as excited and eager as her sister. 

The two of them were rushing to take their strappings off. If Laena didn’t know them as well as she did, she might worry that they would fall off Vhagar in their excitement.

“Careful, girls!” Elise cautioned, watching them with nervous eyes as they climbed down the roped ladder. 

Laena only laughed good-naturedly. “They are fine, I assure you. They know what they’re doing.” She freed Elise from the restraints keeping her in the saddle. “You can swing your legs over now, I’ll hold onto you.” Laena could still hear Baela and Rhaena squealing in excitement as they reached the end of the ladder. 

Little Moondancer hovered over then, shrieking as if to rush them forward. Laena remembered how the poor thing was barely able to match pace with Vhagar’s tail as they flew. Yet, like her claimant, she seemed to enjoy a challenge.

“Alright,” Elise breathed. Her hands clutched onto Laena’s forearms and she let her legs swing towards the former’s front. 

Laena never broke a sweat as she started to descend, grabbing ahold of the rope. She extended one hand out for Elise to grab onto. It was not the first time she had helped someone dismount her dragon.

Due to Elise’s uncertainty, the trek down was slow. Laena didn’t mind.


Her mother was smothering her daughters with kisses by the time they reached them. 

An ugly, rotten feeling seized her chest. A feeling that had no place here. 

“My lady?” Elise whispered beside her. Her frozen state not going unnoticed.

Laena blinked. “Uh… Elise, will you bring the children inside?”

She nodded. “Of course, my lady.”

“Luckily, your rooms are all prepared,” Rhaenys added. She looked at Laena with something akin to curiosity. “Though I had not expected you so soon. You are all early.”

“My apologies. I should have sent another letter with our change of plans…” Her head jerked towards her daughters and Elise. “Go on, I need to speak with your grandmother, then I will join you.”

Baela and Rhaena gave her twin smiles before Elise ushered them off.

Laena watched them go, warmth spreading through her chest. How she adored them.

Arms wrapped around her frame. The familiar smell that she labeled with her mother invaded her nose. The smell of comfort.

She returned the hug, but her mother must have felt her stiffness as she pulled back to scan her face.

“Is everything well, sweetling?” She tucked a lock of hair behind Laena’s ear. 

Rhaenys looked up at the sky where they had come, as if she were searching for something. “No Daemon?.. What has that man done now.” It was phrased as a statement, clear in its disdain. 

Laena could only smile. A weak one. 

The last time she saw her mother, the woman was bathed in light. A warm smile reserved for her and Laenor when they welcomed her back to them. Reunited in death.

But now, she was alive. Now Laena was alive.

They had much to speak about. Laena wondered if that was possible.

“I remember this feeling I had, it was so long ago, but seeing you with them, it reminded me of it.” Her voice was low and soft, a direct opposite of the ugly emotion rearing its head inside of her. “It was this strong feeling of what I can only now call jealousy.” Her mother tilted her head, almost like a puppy would. Curious. “You were able to be there for Baela and Rhaena in ways I could not be, in ways I had lost the ability to do. You could touch them and hold them. While I…” Laena shook off her bout of melancholy. Sadness was becoming all too familiar. “You were not shy in consoling them in the face of my death. Wrapping them in your arms as they grieved.”

⇄

A warm embrace, but sheltered by the heartache of the day. The loss of a loved one so dear.

A deep, cutting ache in her chest. 

Soft, brown faces that looked up at her with such despair. ‘I don’t want mother to be gone.’

Rhaenys blinked it away.

Laena stared back at her. Not a box of ashes and remains, but Laena. Her beautiful daughter.

“Thank you for caring for them when I could not,” Laena said. “I fear that you were the only one.”

As if she were afraid for her to disappear, she reached out and lightly touched her youngest’s cheek. It was warm.

“...How?” Rhaenys asked. A thin layer of tears blurring her view. 

She could remember the pain, the losses, but it was all muddled. Small glimpses of what was. 

Only flashes remained in her mind.

Her daughter looked at her with wide eyes, such a difference from only seconds ago. 

“I… I could not say,” she rasped.

Rhaenys could not stop staring at her, holding her face. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It had been so long.

“What do you remember?” Laena asked. Her hand cradled against her own, then pried them off her face. 

Rhaenys recognized something colder about her daughter, a bite in her tone. A sharpness in her eyes. 

Laena had all but admitted to remembering her death, so perhaps that is what it was.

She could not blame her, it must have been agonizing. Rhaenys would need to keep an eye on her.

“Well, I must admit I remember how I felt more than anything else. I-”

“Do you remember how you died?” The question was blunt, surprising.

Rhaenys raised her eyebrows. “Well, I-”

The light went from Meleys’ eyes. An unspoken apology.

Spreading her arms out wide as the wind rushed against her. Black. Nothingness.

A new ache in her chest.

She looked over at Meleys whose eyes were already focused on her, watching as if she knew.  

Her snout nudged against her hand. A chuffing sound released from her throat.

“Ñuha riñalbus,” Rhaenys whispered. 

⇄

Laena pursed her lips in sympathy. “I’m sorry, muña. For Vhagar.”  

Meleys chittered when Rhaenys pulled away, nudging into her for more scratches. 

“What are you sorry about? None of it was your doing.” She looked over at Vhagar who was looming, keeping an eye on Laena. “You were not Vhagar’s rider. She was… Aemond’s.”

Laena looked behind her. “It can be difficult to understand why a dragon would choose certain riders, but I cannot say I am surprised by Vhagar’s choice. She seems to be attracted to loneliness. And bravery.”

“You thought Aemond to be brave?” Rhaenys smiled, one she would give Laena as a child when she was being particularly ‘silly.’

Laena only shrugged a shoulder, still looking at her beloved mount. “In some ways perhaps. I hold no love for the boy, none after all he has done, but I understand what it is like to want a dragon. I understand what it is like to be lonely… If only he didn’t use that bond to commit such depravity. Insulting my daughters, murdering Lucerys,” Laena turned towards her mother, “and you. You fought bravely, mother. Never once let up, you and Meleys.”

Meleys chittered at the sound of her name.

She sniffed Laena and let her place her palm near the crease of her maw.

“She is fond of you,” Rhaenys noted. “Of course she is.”

Laena smiled, a real one. “I still am sorry.” She took her hand from Meleys. “I loved her, love her. Vhagar may be seen as this vicious creature to those around her, but never to me. I would be a fool to say that I was never frightened of her at times, but… she was my…” She trailed off, her breath shaking. 

“I know,” Rhaenys said just as softly. “I know.”

Her mother grabbed her hand. “Why don’t we go inside, hm? I’m sure you are in need of a bath to wash away the smell of dragon. Your girls too.”

Laena nodded, looking down at their hands. “Baela and Rhaena would appreciate that, I know. Elise too. But I would rather speak with you about some things first.”

Rhaenys hummed curiously. “Of course, darling.”

Laena stared at the Driftwood Throne. Another ugly chair.

“Come, Laena. Sit.” The clattering of cups against plates echoed into the room. Laena turned and watched her mother’s ladies set out a steaming kettle full of tea and two teacups on the table in the corner.

She thanked the ladies before they departed and sat down astray from her mother.

Rhaenys stared at her. Any other person would crack. Laena did not.

It was not the first time she was subjected to one of her mother’s looks.

“I am glad to see you,” Rhaenys broke the silence. Her words were genuine, though perhaps not all she wished to say. “I must admit I am a bit confused. I am not sure what to do with all of this information. Death and… now life again?”

Laena’s nails tapped the side of her cup. “Believe me, I am not quite sure of my role here either. I’m sorry for…” making you remember?  She wondered.

Was she responsible for that?

“I suppose all that matters is that you are here, Laena.” She leaned forward. “I had missed you, my darling girl.”

Laena wanted to say the same. She wanted to, but there were things she needed to discuss. She felt that pull to do so. Her mother needed to know. 

She matched Rhaenys’ stature, and delved in. “After the battle, you and Meleys gone, Rhaenyra decided that the need for more dragon riders was needed. Seasmoke ended up being claimed.” Rhaenys furrowed her brows. “His rider’s name was Addam. Father’s bastard son.” 

“What?”

There was no time for her sympathy, not yet. “You knew who Alyn was and no doubt you knew about Addam too, mother. Laenor and I, we never knew about them.” 

Through her own melancholy, Rhaenys softly said, “you are angry.”

Laena hummed. “I am. For you, for me, for Laenor. I am angry.” With the secrets her father kept and how he made her feel so inadequate. “But… that is not important right now.” She sighed, pushing through her inner turmoil. “After Seasmoke’s claim, a bunch of smallfolk went to Dragonstone to try and claim Silverwing and Vermithor. Many died, but the two dragons were claimed by two more bastards, Ulf and Hugh. Aemond, in his rage, ended up burning Sharp Point to the ground.” Rhaenys closed her eyes, perhaps in regret. “The boy was becoming cruel, or crueler, I suppose.” With her next words, she couldn’t keep the mocking from her tone. “And Father renamed The Sea Snake after you. The Queen Who Ever Was, he named it.” 

Rhaenys scoffed. Laena was not surprised by that reaction, she had expected it. 

“...Council meetings and dinners happened as well, of course, planning what to do next. Larys Strong took Aegon from the Red Keep to escape from Aemond’s wrath. Conveniently enough after, the Dowager Queen came to Dragonstone, she swore to surrender King’s Landing to Rhaenyra, thwarting her burned son in the meanwhile.” 

Laena had no love for Aegon either. He was disgusting, and that was putting it lightly, but he was Alicent’s son. She brewed the hatred inside of him and covered up his indulgences, yet was willing to let him die.

For what? Peace? A mother so devoted to her children as she’d have anyone believe, should not be so willing to give them up once it got hard. 

Rhaenyra was the rightful heir, yet Alicent usurped her. Alicent feared for her children’s lives, yet she gave them up. The woman was an oddity. 

“Did she?” Rhaenys asked, surprised. 

“Do not act so shocked, mother. You yourself told Rhaenyra to meet Alicent. That was stupid, what you did. It was a risk, too risky.”

“Do not berate me, young lady.” Her mother never raised her voice, nor gave her a sharp look. She was calm and collected. Regal, even in her scolding. 

“I am not young,” Laena spat. “I am old and cursed.” As of now she was physically twenty-six, not even, but even then she felt like an old lady. The life had been drained from her. “You yourself must admit it, it was a foolish suggestion. Alicent and Rhaenyra may have been friends for a time, but they were adversaries for longer. They cling onto what was and it blinds them. It blinds you.” 

Two sets of violet eyes locked onto each other. 

Laena never deemed to speak to her mother with such reproval before. Yet she could not back down now, what was said was said.

“Speak plainly, daughter,” Rhaenys goaded.

So she did. “You used me, mother. When I was only a young girl of twelve, you willingly placed me before the king. You and father.” At least her mother had the sense to look ashamed. “Then you did the same to Laenor, making a match for him and Rhaenyra when you knew he never wanted a wife. You knew his heart belonged to another.”

“I never wanted it, Laena. I had told your father of the dangers.” 

“And yet you let it happen anyway. You were not some meek woman, mother. You were not a woman at the mercy of her husband, you should have done something.”

“There are things you do not understand,” Rhaenys grounded out. 

“Oh, I understand perfectly. It all comes down to ambition. Your claim was taken from you. You should have been queen, it was your right and you deserved it more than Viserys, but it was denied you. And so you used me, you used us, to gain some sort of satisfaction. At least your blood would still sit the throne. It would only cost your children.”

Adamantly, Rhaenys shook her head. “No. You do not know of what you speak. I had accepted my defeat long ago!”

“And yet you still chased after it!” Laena raised her voice. “You sacrificed Laenor, you had seen his unhappiness! You would have sacrificed me!” Rhaenys kept shaking her head. “Your ambition, father’s ambition, it cost us our lives! We fucking died!”

By the end of it, Laena was huffing in anger. Her eyes pierced like daggers.

Rhaenys could only stare at her in bewilderment and guilt. 

The sight of her mother bursting into tears stunned her, like cold water being thrown in her face. Her own anger masked by surprise. 

“You are right,” Rhaenys sobbed. “It cost us everything!” Freeing her face from underneath her palms, she looked at Laena with teary eyes. “I’m sorry, I am so sorry!” 

Hesitantly, Laena reached out. She grabbed her mother’s hand. Perhaps she had been too harsh.

No, her mind supplied, she deserved the vitriol. She deserves to know how you feel. She was supposed to protect you. 

Nonetheless, Laena did not like to see her mother cry. “I…I did not mean to make you feel bad.”

Rhaenys sniffled. “You meant what you said, Laena… And you were right to say it.” Her thumb rubbed over the back of her hand. “I failed you, and your brother. The throne was never worth you. Power was never worth you.”

Laena softened, but she didn’t unveil all of her armor. Not yet. 

“I must admit, I myself have much to make up for too,” Laena said. 

“I never thought I would care if I made any impact. I would be dead, it would be over, so why would I care? But it turns out that perhaps I care too much.” Rhaenys hummed curiously. “I was brought back, I am alive and breathing, and now I must find out what it all means. At least I think I do, otherwise, what is the point?”

“I had lost everything, my life, my children. Now I have them back and I must hold onto them even tighter. I will not let what happened to me happen again, mother.” Laena broke away and looked out in the direction of the window. She saw Meleys hunting in the water, but no Vhagar. The distraction did not stop the burning sensation behind her eyes from building. Gods, was crying all she was going to do now? “Is it wrong of me to be so angry? Is it selfish of me to want a better life than what I had?”

⇄

Rhaenys felt her heart break.

“No, darling,” she whispered. She squeezed Laena’s hand, bringing Laena’s attention back to her. 

As if the touch now burned her, her daughter tore her hand away. Rhaenys sat back in response.

This child is going to give me whiplash, she thought.

“No one was there for me,” her voice was just as soft as hers was. “What was I if not all but forgotten?”

“Oh, darling, that is not true. You must know that. I could never have forgotten you, your daughters never could have forgotten you. They loved you dearly, as I do.” 

Laena could only laugh, bitter and meek as it was. “I am a sad and bitter woman,” she admitted with ease. “But I am not blind, mother. I remember, and you wore your stoicism like armor. You always had. You didn’t care about me, not enough. You didn’t care…” 

The way she said it was as if she were trying to convince herself that it was true. 

Yet Rhaenys knew that it was far from the truth.

It was torture, when she received that letter. Laena gone, knowing she would never see her again. It was pure torture. 

Then Laenor soon after. Gone. So brutally, both of her children went. 

She cared very much. She was surprised she did not die from heartache. 

When she looked at Laena now, it was almost odd. As a girl, Laena was full of light, Rhaenys thought of her that way. 

But now, all she could see was this deeply embedded grief. The poor girl was practically stewing in it.

She has such sad eyes. They looked wrong on her. 

“I was not important enough,” Laena decided with undeniable detachment. “I was not important because I was not a princess or an heir or a man.” She leaned against the small table, staring down at the untouched cup of tea. “I wished it didn’t matter… but I don’t want to be forgotten,” she admitted, her voice small, like she was a child again.

If she could, Rhaenys would wrap her daughter up in her arms and shield her from the world. It was what she should have done in the first place. 

“You weren’t. I thought of you everyday. Baela would speak of you with such fondness, she adored you. And Rhaena, she wanted to be like you. She thought you were brave and funny,” Rhaenys smiled, memories flooding in.

Laena hummed in acknowledgement, like she knew. Given what she had told her, perhaps she did. 

“I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love them. I wanted them to be happy after I was gone, but… selfishly, I wanted them to think of me.” She looked ashamed. “I don’t know what that makes me.”

Rhaenys spread out her hands, a simple, small gesture. “Like everyone, I imagine. It certainly does not make you a monster.” Her daughter was different, with all she had seen, but no monster. 

“Those words do not reassure me, I’m afraid,” Laena said. “All I know is that I want them with me, all the time. They are all that matters. They were the only reason I survived those dreadful times in Pentos. Without them, I don’t know if I would have had the will.”

Rhaenys tilted her head. “What did Daemon do to you, Laena?” If that awful cousin of hers hurt her daughter…

⇄

Laena shrugged with an impervious smile. “It was not all bad, surely,” she began. “When we first married, it was almost exciting. We had left Driftmark, traveled together through the free cities, settled in Pentos. It was an interesting experience for certain, and he was charming, I remember. I had fallen in love rather quickly.” Laena let out a small chuckle. How could she not have? 

Rhaenys offered her own smile. 

It was not like Laena had never written to her mother over the years, of course she had, but it was Laenor she contacted the most. She had spoken to him of her joy while simultaneously trying to comfort him over the loss of his lover. 

When she had first visited Driftmark, Daemon unaccompanied, Laenor and Rhaenyra had been staying there for a short time with baby Jacaerys in tow. He was only a month old, Baela a week or so younger. 

Laena had worried about traveling with her as small and young as she was. Baela had ended up giggling the entire time on dragonback. 

Her daughters were always meant to be dragon riders.

Laena had never truly thought anything of the boy’s appearance, she thought he was cute. He was a babe, there wasn’t much for her to assess. Dark hair meant nothing to her, pale skin meant even less. Rhaenyra’s children took after their mother more than anyone else. The rumors of their paternity never took root with her.

Laenor had spoken of ‘doing his duty’ too many times for her to think that there was no possibility of Jace, Luke, or Joffrey being his. Laenor had doted on them regardless. 

She had, of course, witnessed the closeness between Rhaenyra and her sworn shield firsthand, but that was to be expected due to their arrangement. 

Laena could hardly judge.  

When Lucerys was born, the rumors started building even more. To her it was ridiculous. When she had first laid eyes on Lucerys, he had dark hair like an Arryn would. 

‘The seed is strong,’ she recalled. 

Laena, after she had passed, had only watched as his hair grew darker the older he got.

Baratheon Black hair, like her grandmother’s. 

He had darker hair than the traitor, Borros Baratheon. The literal lord of his house. 

It was almost laughable.

“I know how you wanted to return home,” Rhaenys said softly. 

‘She wanted to come home.’

It was eerie how similar she sounded now, compared to then.

“I did,” Laena answered. 

When she had returned to Pentos with Baela, Daemon was waiting for her.

She had put her daughter down for a nap and took note of his disheveled appearance. He had read out a letter to her, written to him from one of the men of the City Watch, telling him of the ‘shocking resemblance’ they had to Harwin Strong. 

Daemon was not happy to receive that letter. And Laena, tired from her day’s ride, had barely paid attention. 

‘Why would you not tell me about this, Laena?’ Daemon had asked.

And she had sighed. ‘What does it matter? ’ Her dead stare had made him go mute.

The hair was the only resemblance Laena had ever seen. Call her blind if one must, but she had seen many children who did not look like their fathers. Baela and Rhaena were quite plainly one of them. Her daughters took after her in both complexion and looks. No note of Daemon to speak of.

In the free cities, she had seen many and more cases. Children who did not resemble either of their trueborn parents. At least Jace, Luke, and Joff took after Rhaenyra. 

None of that mattered to the Lords and Ladies of Westeros, it seemed. Nor did it matter that Laenor said that they were his sons.

Laena could not imagine, would not like to imagine, how she would take it if the roles were reversed. 

If anyone would have dared claim that Baela and Rhaena were not hers, regardless of blood, she would most likely kill them. They were her children, she had cared for them, that was all that mattered. 

“When Rhaena was three, close to turning four, I remember walking in on Daemon with another man.” Her mother’s face changed instantly, learning this information. Anger had wrinkled her brow, yet Laena could only feel amusement bubble inside of her. It was years ago and she had managed to find her pleasure elsewhere. “You can imagine what it was they were doing, I’d venture.” Laena picked up her cup of tea and blew on it before she took a sip. “Sweet,” she commented. “…Did you know that the Redwynes control the largest fleet nearly two centuries from now?” 

When she looked up, her mother seemed quite disinterested in her little fact. Only anger burned white-hot in her eyes. A shame , Laena thought. “I’ll kill him,” Rhaenys swore.

Laena laughed. “I should have expected it, but I admit that I was surprised. When the shock wore off, I… Well, I was hurt. I had confronted him after. I knew I did not want to stay silent, I did not want him to think I was okay with it.” She stirred the cup, mindlessly. “I can’t quite remember what he said to me, but I believe it was along the lines of ‘it is only pleasure, nothing more.’ Foolish girl that I was, I asked him ‘aren’t I enough?’” She was only twenty-one, still enthralled with him. He himself could hardly keep his hands off of her. “He kissed me on the forehead and all he said was ‘of course you are, sweet girl,’” Laena uttered softly, trying to match the way he sounded. It was odd the things she could recall, while others, not so much. 

“He was the one who said that he loved me first, did you know that? After Baela was born, we laid in bed, and he told me that he loved me. I was so happy.” Even thinking of it now, her chest warmed. “I truly did love him. And we had some good times. I could never regret us because it gave me my children.”

Rhaenys looked like she understood that all too well. 

“I’m sorry, Laena. You deserved better than Daemon.”  

Laena hummed. “I’d say that we both deserved better.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her legs as she scanned her mother’s face. Though Laena had softened, that residual hardness still remained on her face. “When did you find out about father’s bastard sons? Did you know from the beginning?”

“Laena,” she said tiredly. 

“I know it must hurt you, mother. I could just kill him for what he did to you, but I deserve to know. How long?”  

Alyn was around Laena’s age. Addam was only a couple years younger. 

She did not like them. She had no reason to.

Rhaenys sniffed, glancing at the door as if she were expecting someone to burst inside. “I cannot say for certain, but I found out about Alyn years after he was born. Many years. I think it was actually after Laenor married Rhaenyra.”

“You never knew for that long?”

“Well, your father never acknowledged them. I suppose that made it easier for me not to know. But… I didn’t know for certain until your father was attacked and dying, before Viserys passed on. Alyn was the one who fished Corlys out of the water.”

“I know,” Laena said.

Rhaenys exhaled, chuckling. “I suppose you do. So strange.”

“I knew then that Corlys had sired him. And not only that, but he had another, with the same woman.” Rhaenys rolled her eyes. “He would go and see her when he was cross with me, or bored. Perhaps he wanted something new,” she said snidely.

Laena appreciated the anger, she liked it better than her sorrow. “I know the existence of them, Alyn and Addam - I know that it pained you. You had every right to be so. If I were you, I would have let father’s infection fester.”

“Laena!” Rhaenys exclaimed. 

“It is not my fault that father was a whore!” 

Her melancholy replaced by her shock. Her shock replaced by amusement. 

“You should not speak about him like that!” Rhaenys’ eyes shone with mirth. 

Laena widened her eyes. “Well it is true! He was lucky to have you and he threw it away. He threw much away,” she said, the last sentence quieter. 

Her father never knew her. 

He may have paraded his family in the streets, Laenor specifically, but it never meant anything. It was not done out of mere pride. 

He held no pride for her.

“Your father may have done wrong, but he did love you.”

“He was an idiot,” Laena disagreed. “He named Alyn his heir. He had Alyn and Addam legitimized and he ignored my daughters. They showed far more care for him than he ever did for them.”

Rhaenys closed her eyes, disappointment clear. “It is his house to do what he pleases with.”

“Perhaps… He should have let the Velaryon name die out.”

“You are upset, Laena. You do not mean that.”

“I am upset, I am. I have been constantly overlooked, my daughters have been overlooked. Forgive me if that upsets me. Forgive me if I won’t simply get over it.”   She shook her head, looking back at the driftwood throne. “Father told Baela that he wanted her to be his heir after you died. It was to honor you, your wishes, nothing more. My girl turned it down. She said it was not her place, but I wish she had taken it.” Laena had no illusions. If Baela had accepted, Corlys would have found a way to worm out of it eventually. He did not value her or the children she made because they were women. They had no cock, therefore, they were unworthy. “She would have been a better ruler, I know it so, and she was more trueborn than that bastard ever was. The same goes for Rhaena. After Baela passed it on, he should have given it to Rhaena, it was her right. She was not an invalid, she knew more about ships and dragons than father gave her credit for. She is my daughter and she is just as brave and intelligent as her sister.”

Rhaena was Laena’s daughter, of course she would know of such things.

“I know that.”

“Father didn’t. He didn’t know them at all. He didn’t know me or Laenor. He never cared to.”

“That isn’t true, Laena.”

Her mother’s words were weak. Laena turned back to her. “Alyn did not deserve the driftwood throne. Father hardly deserved it,” she laughed. “They were hardly around.” The only thing they deserved was to die as they did. 

“That may be so,” Rhaenys said. “I know I often ruled in Corlys’ stead while he was away, on his ships.”

“As did Baela,” Laena said, “when Alyn was away.”

“Baela? What do you mean?” Laena’s face must have been clear in her contempt given how quickly her mother put the pieces together. “They married?” Rhaenys asked, surprised. 

“To escape other matches, yes,” she said with reluctance. “Baela ran to him and married him. Yet that wretched boy ended up hurting my daughter. The sea swallowed him up because of his… offenses. Good riddance, I say.” 

“What could the boy have done to earn such hatred from you, daughter? What did he do to Baela?”

“Let us say that he takes after his father. He sired bastards on my daughter’s niece whilst Baela raised their own children alone.” She disliked the familiarity. “And yet you once told father that the man deserved to be raised high and showered in wealth!” Laena chortled, the idea equally funny and exasperating. 

“I did not know he would go and do that,” Rhaenys said, placatingly. 

Oh yes, her mother, ever the peace-maker. 

“Who was I to deny that boy anything just because of the crimes of his father?” She continued. “I know you must think me a fool, I can see it on your face, but it was not Alyn’s fault. Perhaps if I knew he’d end up a sleaze I never would have said anything of the sort, but I could not see the future! You can hardly judge me for that, Laena.”

“It was not like you to simply accept something as insulting as father’s infidelity. The woman I knew would have slapped him silly, then his son for good measure.”

Rhaenys could not keep the smile off of her face. “I was an old woman. I was tired. War had begun.”

“Perhaps I could make up for the both of us then.”

“Go to your father and slap him then track down Alyn and do the same?” Her mother smirked.

She shrugged. “Why not? It can’t be that hard.”

“As fun as that might be, it would do you no good.”

“I am tired of doing good. I want answers.”

“I wish I had them for you,” Rhaenys said. 

“I have seen unimaginable things happen, mother. Do you know what I have learned from it? It’s that women are always victims of the world. Whether they will it or no. I have seen it countless times.” She thought of her cousin. “Rhaenyra… she did not ascend the throne and rule in the end. She died, killed by her brother, Aegon. He fed her to Sunfyre. Whilst her son watched, her own Aegon.”

The more she spoke, the more horrified her mother became.

“How did… Sunfyre lived?” Was all her mother could come up with.

“Barely, but yes. After Rook’s Rest, he was incredibly weak and damaged, but he managed to live and reunite with Aegon again. Before Rhaenyra’s death, my daughter took to the sky and burned them worse. Moondancer was an unfortunate casualty, and my poor Baela was left with burns. Yet, Aegon and Sunfyre still lived. More hurt, but alive. He chained my daughter and when Rhaenyra fled King’s Landing, he had waited for her on Dragonstone. He had one of his men cut her breast,” the memory still inflicted her rage, “enticing Sunfyre, and she was bathed in flame then devoured.” 

“Gods,” Rhaenys whispered. 

“Aegon only ruled for half a year until he was poisoned. Father being one of the culprits, and he owned up to it. He was only left alive because of my daughters and his surviving bastard son.” Laena fidgeted with her tea cup. “Rhaenyra and Laenor’s sons had all died, mother. Only Aegon and Viserys were left by the end.”

Her mother may have been cold to the boys, but there was no denying the hurt she held now.

“You were always hard on them,” Laena commented. She had seen it with her own eyes.  “Even with Laenor doting on them the way he did, you simply… cared not. You had made up your mind.”

“I was not perfect,” Rhaenys admitted. “As I said, I have a lot to make up for.” 

An apology, yet not an apology.

Laena was left unsurprised.

She pivoted. “Aegon the younger ascended the throne and before he came of age, he was ruled by men. Some decent, others rotten as men tend to be. Unwin Peake was certainly the most rotten of them all.”

Her mother grimaced at the name. Perhaps some history was there.

“He treated my daughters terribly because they were women. He belittled Aegon and wanted power, as Otto Hightower had. He is also someone I would like to feed to Vhagar.”

“Do you have a list?” Rhaenys asked.

“Oh absolutely. There must be thousands by now. Highborn and lowborn aplenty.”

“I see,” Rhaenys assessed, amused.

Laena pushed away her cup, deciding to stand to her feet.

She went on to tell her mother of every Targaryen King that came to be. From Aegon lll, the Dragonbane to Aerys ll, the Mad King. 

Aegon III. Daeron I. Baelor I. Viserys II. Aegon IV. Daeron II. Aerys I. Maekar I. Aegon V. Jaehaerys II. Aerys II.

She told her of the battles and the rebellions. The stories of love and hate. 

How Dorne officially joined the Seven Kingdoms through Daeron ll’s sister.

The Battle of the Trident, ending the reign of Targaryen Kings.

“Rhaegar was killed because of something he caused. He was an idiot. He left his wife and children undefended,” Laena recalled with bitterness. “Elia Martell, despite her ails, was strong and brave. She had fought to protect her children, though she was no match for the man they called ‘The Mountain.’ Elia’s children were murdered and then so was she, split in half and raped before. She, like many, were innocent and killed because of others’ actions. But… despite it all, not all hope was lost. A young girl was born shortly after the death of The Mad King. She was named Daenerys.” Thinking of her let Laena smile again. 

Laena told her mother everything she could about Daenerys, from Pentos to Westeros.

The girl was over a century younger than her, yet Laena admired her. She had struck out to claim her birthright and made herself into a deserving queen.

Her end was sickening, traitorous. She was grief-filled and betrayed. She deserved the iron throne more than anyone.

“She was stabbed in the heart by her lover as they kissed. A sense of love and comfort, only to be betrayed in the worst way. After he melted the iron throne with his fire, her last living dragon carried her off. I do not know where, it is something I was not allowed to see.” 

“It’s like you made attachments to these people,” Rhaenys softly noted. 

She had gone so long without looking at her mother that when she met her eyes, there was a sliver of… disbelief there?

“I do not ask you to believe me if that is not your wish,” Laena said. “All that matters is that I know what I saw. I know that I am telling the truth.” 

“No, I believe you, it is only… a lot.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” Laena was not the only one who had seen this, she was simply the only one who remembered. 

She looked out the window and watched as the sun was beginning to set. She had spent the whole day relaying everything, in the best outline that she could, to her mother. 

Where are Baela and Rhaena? She thought. Perhaps Elise has kept them occupied.

“It has grown late,” Rhaenys drew her back. “Your quarters have been made for you, Baela and Rhaena’s next door.” 

“Where’s father?”

Her mother pursed her lips together. “In the harbor, I imagine. If he is not here or in the sea then he would be there.”

“He would stay out this late?” 

“You know this, child. Your father does as he pleases.”

Laena supposed that was true enough. “You should get yourself a lover, mother,” Rhaenys barked out a laugh, “I think it would make you happier.” 

Rhaenys went towards her to touch her cheek. “I have been faithful to your father for thirty-odd years. Despite his appetites, I’m afraid I still love him. He loves me.”

As much as Laena wanted to deny it, she knew it was true. 

“I was able to find happiness elsewhere in Pentos. Despite the love I had for my husband.”

“Who was she?” Rhaenys asked.

Laena smirked. “What makes you think it was a woman?”

It was Rhaenys’ turn to give her a dubious look. “Because I know you, and I know Daemon. His covetousness.” 

She hummed. “He was not fond of me having a woman in my bed either. To say he allowed it would be a lie.” Because he didn’t. “I have had a few,” Laena admitted, “but her name was Thalia. A servant under Prince Reggio’s service. I had known her for years before anything came of us.” 

The sly touches, the longing looks. The smiles that were only reserved for her or her children. 

The memory of when Laena was first kissed by her. 

How her long brown hair would cascade over her shoulders. How her eyes would squint when she laughed.

“I never deemed to have a lover before I found out that Daemon wasn’t true to me. And it was only fun, pleasure, at first. I hardly partook in it in all honesty, but when it came to Thalia, we never even… we took it slow.” The admission made her blush against her will. “I had-“

“Fallen in love?” Rhaenys asked, filling in the gap.

“Hm. Yes.”

“What happened to her, Laena?” 

Laena merely shook her head. “I don’t know.” Rhaenys looked at her inquiringly. “Daemon had found us together one day, we weren’t even doing anything,” she let out a curt smile. “But we were in a compromising position I suppose. Well… he did not like that and managed to have Thalia sent away. To where?” She shrugged. “And I was too much of a coward to do anything but shout at Daemon over it,” she bitterly laughed. “I don’t know if she is dead or what, all I know is that she was there one day and gone the next.” By the time Laena had gone looking it had been too late. 

“I’m sorry, Laena.”

That snubbed part of her disliked the look of pity on her mother’s face. “You asked,” she stated simply, an inkling of aggression in her voice. She was tired and sad and not particularly warm towards anyone but her children. 

She could not trust anyone anymore.

“Just because I told you everything and confided in you does not mean I have forgiven you, mother,” Laena said. It was the only way she could protect her heart.

Even if it hurt her mother in the process.

“Laena,” she tried, achingly longing in her portrayal.

Laena could not fold. “I was a child. I was too young to marry. And then the king denied me for another. You and father took us from King’s Landing back to Driftmark because you were slighted. Not I. I did not grieve over the loss of marrying a man three times my age. To make matters worse, father betrothed me to the Braavosi Sealord’s son. A damn drunkard who would touch me with his nasty, sticky fingers.” She remembered kicking him in the groin so hard once that he threw up, all because he deemed to squeeze her ass. Not much longer after that, Daemon had come to Driftmark and slayed the bastard where he stood. “I was twelve when it all began! Not even Laenor had to be betrothed nor marry that young.” 

“I know,” Rhaenys whispered.

“It will take time to rebuild that trust between us,” she said, softer. “I love you, I do, but I cannot revolve everything around that anymore.” 

“I understand, I-”

Laena kissed her mother on the cheek, interrupting her. She did not need to hear it, whatever it may be.

“Goodnight, mother.”

Laena, once dried off from her bath, wrapped her hair up in a pink silk bonnet. 

She dressed herself in a light blue nightgown which beautifully hugged her curves.

When the door to her room opened, she turned to find her daughters both ready for bed. “Did you finish the letter to your father?” She asked.

“Yes!” Rhaena affirmed. “Maester Kelvyn sent out a raven.”

Her smiling face was a stark contrast from her sister’s pouting one.

Laena knew the reason. Baela did not want to write a letter to Daemon, she just wanted him to be here.

She went over to her girls, grabbed Baela’s chin and rubbed her thumb across her cheek, wishing to soften the lines made there. 

“I wish he came with us.” Rhaena rubbed her sister’s back in support. Baela looked up at Laena with sad eyes. “Don’t you, mama?”

“Of course I do,” she half-lied. While she may not have wanted to see Daemon herself, she wished he came for their children.

Rhaena may put on a tougher front, but Laena knew that she missed him too.

Baela wrapped her arms around her mother, which Laena glady reciprocated. She then pulled Rhaena in, mussing up her locks. She felt her youngest’s smile press into her side.

“We will be alright,” Laena swore. “I promise you, all we need is each other. Hm?”

Baela sniffled. “I love you, mama.”

She squeezed her tighter. “I love you too. I love you both.” She pressed a kiss to Rhaena’s head. “It has been a long day. We will begin fresh tomorrow. Yes?”

Baela nodded against her.

“Yes,” Rhaena murmured.

“Alright, let me put you two to bed.” Laena pulled them with her, opening the door to shuffle them out. “I think in the morning we will go into the town, see what is to be seen, perhaps speak with some of the townsfolk. I’d like to show you both more of my home. You were so young when you last saw it, I’m sure most of it has slipped your mind.”

“I’d like that, mama,” Rhaena said sweetly, yawning after the fact. 

“Good.” Laena opened the door to their room. “How goes Moondancer, Baela?”

“She is restless. I saw her hopping on Vhagar.”

“Restless like her rider, hm?”

That got Baela to smile. Laena wanted to capture it, preserve it forever.

She pulled the sheets over her and placed a kiss on her forehead before she went over to Rhaena’s side of the space, sitting on the edge of her bed. “And your egg?” Laena asked her youngest.

Rhaena shrugged. “It is in the pot, being kept warm. I think it might hatch soon.” Her excitement over the prospect was incredibly low, however.

Laena felt for her. Before Vhagar, her own dragon egg never hatched. She had been heartbroken.

If Laena remembered correctly, this current egg of Rhaena’s hatched soon after her death. It was an unfortunate tragedy, deformed and unmoving. Rhaena was left alone in her grief, her sister on Driftmark while she was stuck on Dragonstone.

“That would be nice,” she whispered. 

Rhaena looked up at her with such vulnerability. She had such beautiful eyes. The only thing Daemon gave to her.

“Do you think I’ll ever have a dragon?”

Rhaena claimed a wild dragon during the war. Undeniably, it made her feel important, but it shouldn’t have mattered. Not having a dragon made her no less important in Laena’s eyes. She was special regardless. She wished she were there to have told her that.

Laena heard Baela stir from behind her, no doubt listening to them.

“Of course, sweetling.” She knew Rhaena wanted one born to her, as her sister did. She wanted to share in that joy, have another connection to the older sister she adored. 

They were incredibly alike, Laena seemed to be the only one who saw that. So alike yet different in their own ways. 

Like the sun and the moon.

“When?”

“Rhaena,” she tucked one of her loose locks behind her daughter’s ear, “it will happen. One day, I promise. But having a dragon is not a necessity, my love. You are important.”

“That is easy to say, when you have a dragon.”

Stubborn. “Mm. Would you say I was no less special if I didn’t ride Vhagar?”

Her eyes widened. “Of course not!”

Laena exhaled amusedly. “There is no one else like you, Rhaena. Or your sister.” She looked back to find exactly what she had imagined, Baela’s eyes on them. Her daughter only lightly blushed in the face of being discovered. Laena winked at her before she faced Rhaena again, cupping her cheek. “A dragon does not make you who you are, you are a dragon.”

A slow, mischievous smile crept onto Rhaena’s face at that. 

“Does that suffice?” Laena joked.

“For now,” Rhaena said, still smiling.

Laena would have to accept that. For now.  

She gave her daughter a kiss and then stood, heading for the door. 

Before she left, she said, “sȳz bantis, darlings.”

“Sȳz bantis, muña,” rang out from each bed. 

She softly closed the door behind her.

When she turned, she came nose to nose with someone. She jumped, gasping. 

“Father!” She realized, her open palm pressed against her chest. “What are you doing?”

Corlys chuckled. “I didn't mean to frighten you.” Before Laena could respond, he pulled her in. “Come here.”

This is new, Laena thought. Her father, while boisterous in ways, was not exactly a hugger. She could remember scarce ones as a child, but they were hardly warm.

“Uh,” her muscles stiffened, but she slowly reached up, awkwardly returning the gesture. “Hello, father. Mother told me you were in the harbor.” 

“I was,” he answered. He pulled back, but kept his hands on her arms as if to hold her there and look her over. “I did manage to see Vhagar this morning, however. I was busy with my men so I was unable to see you until now.”

I’m sure, Laena thought, controlling the urge to roll her eyes.

“My, it is good to see you, daughter. You look beautiful. Just like your mother.”

High praise. Empty praise. “Thank you, father.”

Smiling, his eyes shifted to the door behind her. “My granddaughters are in bed, I’d wager. How are they? How was your journey?”

“Indeed,” she said. “They are good, tired, of course. It was a long ride on dragonback.” Her last words were slow, stuck hanging in the air.

“I see. Of course.” 

The awkwardness set in. 

His smile wavered.

“Well,” she started, highly uncomfortable, “I suppose it is time for me to sleep as well. The hour is quite late.”

“That is true enough. Don’t let me keep you, daughter.” His hand touched her back as she moved away.

“Goodnight, father,” she said.

“Goodnight.”

Laena did not look back as she entered her own quarters.

She let out a sigh once she was alone. 

⇄

She awoke to the sound of screeching.

Her hand flew to her face, rubbing the sleep from it. “What in-”

“It’s Meleys.”

Laena shot up, looking towards the sound of the voice.

There her mother was, sitting at her bedside, looking at her. Not creepy at all. 

Did her parents intend to scare her?

“Why is she screeching like that?” Her voice mucked from fatigue. She looked at the window but was only able to see Vhagar’s large frame. 

“She wants attention, I presume. She does this on occasion, and she has been doing it non-stop for the past few days.” 

When I first woke up, Laena pondered.

“My old girl loves scratches. Once she sees me she’ll calm down.”

She turned back to her mother. “How long have you been sitting there?”

Rhaenys only sat back, clasping her hands together. A dramatic display for her mother.

“Okay,” Laena said. “Well, I think you should go see Meleys, I’ll see Vhagar.”

“Vhagar has been watching you, you know, through the window. She wants to know that you’re still there,” Rhaenys smiled. 

“I am,” Laena affirmed, almost wistful in her serenity. “I am here to stay.” A warm sensation pooled inside of her chest. A testament to Vhagar and her’s bond.

“Yes, you are.”

Laena eyed her, suspicious. “What are you doing, mother?”

“What do you mean? I’m-” she let out a small chuckle, “I’m trying to make amends. I’m trying to be there for you as I should have been.”

Of course. Laena should have expected it. “You misunderstood. I was not asking you to hover, I was asking you to give me time.” 

“Laena, I love you. I want to fix the mistrust you hold for me.”

“And you think coming into my room and watching me sleep will do that?” Laena asked amusedly. Her mother looked like a kicked puppy. “Mother, I am not trying to hurt you. I’m not, but I need to focus on my children. I need to be here because it is familiar and was my home once.” Laena would put on her mask of courtesy in the public eye, as she had always done. She would do so without complaint, for the sake of her children. She would not, however, pretend in the comfort of privacy with her mother.

Call her cold, or exaggerative, but she would not excuse the wrong done to her. Otherwise, what was the point of all of this?

Rhaenys nodded, slowly. “I had written to Laenor last night. He had written previously that he and Rhaenyra were trying for another child. Joffrey, I imagine.”

“Joffrey will not be born for another year or so,” Laena’s brows furrowed. 

Rhaenys made a noise of affirmation. “He tries. They try. It is a shame the children-” aren’t his, Laena heard, though the words went unsaid. 

Laena closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the headboard. “You don’t know that, mother,” she said. 

A pause. Then a small chuckle. “Laena,” she said, as if she were speaking to a child, “those boys… they look nothing like him.”

She reopened her eyes to settle her mother with a glare. “Do not speak to me like I’m a lackwit. I’m well aware of how they look. They have brown hair and brown eyes. They would not be the only Valyrian children to be so. Regardless of blood, they are Laenor’s sons.” Her eyes sharpened. “Do you deny it?”

Rhaenys only smiled. “What a prize you are, daughter. Exactly how I remembered you.”

Laena sighed. “Whatever,” she whispered, so quiet it was almost to herself. 

Meleys let out another shriek from outside. 

“Gods, it sounds like she’s dying,” Laena said. She had to admit it was a bit concerning.

“She’s fine. I promise.” 

Laena swung her feet over the opposite end of the bed, towards where the window was. Her feet touched the cold floor before she slipped on her shoes. “Well, you should go out to her, mother,” she suggested yet again. “I’ll dress and see Vhagar too.”

“You do not need any ladies to dress you?” Rhaenys asked.

Laena looked over her shoulder. “With what I intend to wear, it isn’t necessary.” She had gotten used to wearing easy, slip-on dresses in Pentos. It wasn’t like she dressed too arduously before she left Westeros anyhow. 

Elise was the only lady-in-waiting she had come with her to Pentos. She was so young and Elise was already her friend.

“Where is Elise?” She asked.

Rhaenys tutted. “Still abed, as are Baela and Rhaena.”

“Good. That’s good.” She walked towards the window and gained a better look at Vhagar. She was still lounging on the beach, her head down, but Laena saw that her eyes were open, focused on her. “Cute,” she murmured.

“I don’t think anyone would think of Vhagar as ‘cute,’” Rhaenys said, now closer. There was no malice in her voice, if anything, she sounded fond.

Laena could not even be mad. “Perhaps… But they do not know her as I do.”

Her mother excused herself, leaving Laena alone.

She went to her wardrobe, looking through the clothes she had brought on hand. The rest of her belongings would not yet arrive for another day or so. 

Laena picked out an older Velaryon-blue dress with sharp shoulder pads and gold tracings. It was one of the first dresses she had personally commissioned for herself. She had not even asked her father for the coin, she had simply done as she pleased. 

It was a bit tight on her, but it still fit.

She had bigger hips now. Bearing two children would do that.

“You look lovely!” Laena walked up to her mother and Meleys, carefully walking through the sand. Meleys was cooing up a storm, leaning into her mother’s hands.

“Thank you. I’m glad Meleys is enjoying herself.” Laena smiled at the sight of the red dragon’s closed eyes.

“See? All she needed was my presence,” Rhaenys boasted proudly. Always so prideful of her mount.

It was something Laena loved dearly about her mother.

And as always, it made her think of her own dragon. “Vhagar will never know war again.”

Her declaration gave Rhaenys pause. Her eyes became sorrowful as she looked between her dragon and her daughter. “How can you be certain?” 

“I will not abandon her again. We shall die old and together.”

“Is this something you have seen come to pass?”

Laena smiled. “I am not a dreamer, mother,” is all she said.

Rhaenys nodded, her hand lightly stroking Meleys’ neck. “And what of Daemon, Laena? Will he be with you in this life?”

“Daemon may do as he pleases, as he always has.”

“I will feed him to Meleys if he dares to show his face here. I swear to you, Laena.”

Laena only stayed in her amusement. “And become a kinslayer?” Rhaenys looked at her disapprovingly for admonishing her. “Daemon is who he is. I will not let him hurt me, mother, and I won’t let you kill him. My daughters need their father.” She may hate to admit it, but it was true. “Besides, Caraxes would not let harm come to Daemon.”

“Caraxes ate sheep as my father was killed,” Rhaenys said. 

“Caraxes loved grandfather, you told me so. As Vhagar loved Queen Visenya and your Uncle Baelon.” As she loved me. As she loved Aemond.

Rhaenys acquiesced. “I wish you had met my father.” 

“I wish I had too. You and grandmother always spoke highly of him, it was as if I did know him.” Her grandmother, Jocelyn, had died when she was just a girl. She was a spirit-filled woman, fierce in her love and devotion. She had disliked her brother after he thwarted her daughter’s birthright.

“He would have loved you and Laenor.”

She had seen Aemon, her grandfather, in the bright place. She had seen him with her grandmother. He was smiling and bright as everyone else. 

Laena did not say that aloud. She could not.

She may never.

“He would have made a good king and you would have made a good queen,” Laena opted to say instead. It was not a lie.

Rhaenys softened. “We had fought for Rhaenyra’s right to be queen. I had died for it. I did so gladly because it was war and that was my duty.”

“Your duty to die?” Laena asked plainly.

Her mother only smiled, like she knew something Laena did not. “What if war comes again, my daughter? Will Vhagar still not know of it?”

Laena looked back at her beloved. Vhagar was watching them intently, a usual from before and a usual for now. “She enjoys burning things, we would do that on occasion, whether it was for her food or for fun. I wouldn’t deny that of her. War, however, only brings about grief. I think that my darling lady has suffered enough of that.” All of her girls had. “She is my protector and I am hers.” 

“I can see that,” Rhaenys mused. “You should go to her, she waits for you.”

Her soul is Vhagar’s and Vhagar’s soul is hers. They were intertwined together forever, made as one. Never could Laena deny that. Never would she want to. 

Laena didn’t wait any longer to pursue her mother’s suggestion.

Vhagar took a few ground-rumbling steps forward, meeting her rider half-way.

“How long have you been watching me?” Her hand pressed flat against her large snout. 

A puff of air hit her in the face. Hot but soft in its playfulness. 

Laena smiled. “We’ll take a flight later, I promise. I’m going to take my daughters into the city first.” Vhagar growled. “I won’t be too long,” she said sweetly, like she was talking to a little babe instead of a massive dragon. “And I’ll be safe. You can always take flight in the meanwhile, hunt for some leviathan perhaps.” Yet something told Laena that Vhagar did not wish to be far from her any time soon. It was sweet, but it also filled her with even more guilt.

She pressed her forehead against Vhagar’s chin. “Avy jorrāelan, Vagus.”

Vhagar nudged her softly, chittering. 

After their little trysts with their mounts, Laena walked alongside her mother back to the castle. 

“I planned to take the girls out to see Hull and Spicetown today,” Laena conversed.

“Really?”

“Yes. It is good for us to be amongst the people..”

Rhaenys only hummed. “Take some of the guards with you.”

“What?” Laena chuckled. “Why would I?”

“So they can keep you safe,” Rhaenys answered.

“I can keep myself safe, thank you,” she answered, dryly. “Besides, I’ve never had a problem doing something like this before.”

Rhaenys nodded, now a small, almost secret smile appeared on her face. “You were always good at that. Everyone always loved you.”

“I’m a person, just like anyone.”

“You are,” she answered, letting the words linger in the air. A silent moment of seemingly wistful contemplation. “But I simply want you to be taken care of.” Her mother stopped in place, taking Laena a bit by surprise before a soft hand cupped her cheek. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, Laena. I wasn’t there before, but I am here now. Anything could happen, I don’t want to risk you over it.”

Laena could understand her just the slightest bit more now. “Okay.. Alright... I’ll take a few guards with us if it makes you feel better. Though you are always free to join, mother.” Her mother’s thumb swept over her cheek before she let her hand drop.

Rhaenys gave her a minuscule amount of space. “I would, but knowing they are out there, I… I don’t know if I’m ready to see them just yet. The chance is too high.” 

They as in Alyn and Addam. Laena could not blame her for that.

“I understand. I cannot say I look much forward to that possibility either.” 

They walked up the steps then stepped inside the doors the guards opened for them.

Laena was assailed by squealing voices. Her daughters were running towards her, flanked by Elise. 

She barely had any time to prepare before they plowed into her embrace. “Oof!” Once she collected herself, Laena looked down at the two of them. “What have I told you about running inside?” Light admonishment in her tone. They only beamed up at her.

“Goodness!” Elise caught up. “I’m so sorry, my lady, they were eager to see you.”

“Don’t be sorry. Have you been up for long?” She was hoping to have been able to wake them up herself, as she had done for ages before. It seemed that was not in the cards for today.

“Not long,” she replied in a big breath. “I saw you outside and Baela said she wanted to see you and Moondancer, so dressing them was a quick task.”

That sounded about right, Laena thought. “Well, it is a good thing you’re here, girls. You can say hello to Moondancer and then we can take a quick trip through the town. How does that sound?” 

“Wonderful!” Baela boasted, exaggerative as she slipped from Laena’s hold to push open the large doors. 

Rhaena giggled watching her sister struggle.

Laena was no better, but she did go to help her daughter. Oddly enough, they were heavier than she remembered.

The weight was alleviated from her before she could open them the rest of the way. The guards at their post wordlessly helped her, as was their prerogative. 

It was different from Pentos. She couldn’t help but compare the two. 

“Come with us, Elise,” Laena said, grabbing Rhaena’s hand. “If you’d like.” 

“Of course, my lady,” Elise replied, sounding amused. 

“Ser Rodrick, Ser Annis, would you please escort my daughter and her children?” Her mother requested, though it was spoken as more of a demand. 

“Of course, Princess,” Ser Annis, the man with unruly red hair and a waspish mustache, said. There was no hint of doubt across his features.

The other man, Ser Rodrick, a dark contrast to his shift partner, did not look as assured. He hesitated for a moment, locking eyes with Rhaenys.

What he was worried about, Laena could not know, but after a sharp look from her mother, he acquiesced. He might as well have been a puppy with its tail between its legs.

Knowing her mother, she would have replacements set at the door for the two men within minutes. 

She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek before she acknowledged the men with a smile. 

“Dracarys, Hūrlilios!” Baela commanded from below. 

That word made her heart skip a beat. 

A chirp followed by a whoosh! quickly made her turn in panic. 

At the bottom of the stairs, there Baela and her dragon were, standing before a roasted bird. Moondancer was quick to snatch the over-cooked seagull up with her razor-sharp teeth. 

She rushed down the steps, tugging Rhaena with her. “Baela! Never do that without me, what have I told you? It is dangerous!”

“Moondancer was hungry!” Baela argued. Her father written all over her. 

“Moondancer is perfectly fine hunting on her own! She is still small, but no less dangerous, I always need to supervise!”

“Mama-”

“Do you understand?” She asked slowly, no room for argument.

Baela looked anything but happy being reprimanded, but she didn’t push the issue. “I understand.”

All the while, Moondancer seemed to be chittering in confusion, blinking between her rider and her rider’s mother. It would have been cute in any other situation.

Laena looked over at Vhagar in the distance, warmth instantly spreading through her chest.

⇄

Laena’s eyes strayed up the sky as she watched Vhagar fly overhead. Though she was quite a distance away, her large figure shadowed over the town. 

“Can’t stay away?” 

She looked over at Elise who was watching her inquisitively. It made her wonder if her friend had taken notice of how different she had been the past few days.

Certainly she must have found it odd how swiftly they had left Pentos, and ultimately without Daemon.

Yet Elise never said a thing. She never pushed.

A part of Laena almost wished she would. To do what with, she was uncertain. She found that she was often left uncertain as of late.

Laena’s eyes flickered up once more, quickly, before they met warm brown eyes. “Vhagar has been keeping close lately.”

“Oh, well, it is normal I think. We’ve taken trips into the city of Pentos plenty, Vhagar often followed you then as she does now. It is only… My lady… Is everything well?” The words came out of her mouth as if they pained her. As if she felt she were overstepping.

Laena let out a small chuckle. “Do you fear asking for my well-being, my friend?”

That got her to blush, lightly on the tip of her nose. Laena enjoyed making her go pink. It was a cute color on her. “I worry for you. You seem awfully… guarded.” She quickly looked away, averting her eyes. “Perhaps I am wrong, I do not know. I just want what is best for you, Laena. That is all I’ve ever wanted since I came into your service.” 

She looked in front of her, watching as her daughters kept in step with the Household knights at their disposal. 

How could she be anything but good with them by her side?

“I appreciate how you care for me, Elise.” She grabbed her hand, letting it hang by their sides as they walked. “I only want what is best for you too, I do hope you know that.”

Her friend had wept for her after she died. Laena could never forget that. 

“I do, my lady.”

Laena wanted to tell her all that she saw. She wanted to, but how was Elise supposed to respond? Would Laena believe her if their circumstances were switched? She’d like to believe so. 

Perhaps she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone at all. 

She had certainly failed at that then.

“M’lady Laena!” A young man who couldn’t be any older than eight and ten brazenly came forward. 

Sers Rodrick and Annis were quick to step in his way. 

Laena cleared her throat, politely asking them to step aside.

They meant well, but if Laena were to die today, what exactly was the point?

The people of Driftmark were not nearly as unpleasant as the people of King's Landing. 

“It has been so long since your charming presence has greeted us. When we all saw your dragon land on the shores, we rejoiced.” He laid it on quite thick, but Laena couldn’t help but enjoy the kind words. 

“I’m honored,” she answered, taking the flower that he held out. “What is your name, good sir?” 

“Tomas, m’lady. Might I say you are a truly beautiful sight?” 

She smiled, bright and embarrassingly flattered. “You are too kind… Tell me, is there anything that ails you? I do wish to help if there is anything I could do.”

Surprisingly, Tomas seemed to be taken aback. “M’lady? I’m not quite sure..”

“Don’t be shy now,” she said teasingly. “Any hardships you face, tell me so I might ease the burden.”

After all, what would she be if she didn’t try to ease the unpleasantries put on the shoulders of her people? Her father was the Sea Snake, was she not allowed to tend on his behalf?

It would hardly be the first time she had offered coin to those who were in higher need. 

She had meant it when she said she wanted to speak with the Townsfolk. 

A beaming smile reappeared on Tomas’ face. “If you must know…”

Laena had spent perhaps a bit longer than she should have, mingling with the people. Listening to any complaints they may have had, though she truly didn’t mind. 

Even her daughters were commended and treated like the princesses they were. 

She had made a list in her head. Reminding herself of all of the wrecked boats and ships. The scrounging for scraps. The need for better housing; leaks in roofs, and lackluster insulation. 

She was honestly surprised. Her father was always rather good at attending to his smallfolk.

Perhaps he had gotten lazy. Perhaps he was in the process of it.

Laena hoped it was the latter. 

⇄

Laena held her daughters’ hands tightly in each of her own. 

Her eyes scanned along the port. 

Plenty of sailors and shipwrights to be seen. 

No one was sitting idle unless they also had something in their hands. Rushing bodies passed her by, flashed away in the corner of her eye.

The ports were always buzzing, Laena was both used and unused to it. 

She was a fool to believe she would go without seeing them. The men who her father miraculously began to care about once the war started. Once she and Laenor were dead. Once his wife was dead.

There he was. Addam, the younger of the two brothers, tending to what looked like a washboard.

Laena took in a sharp breath, an unconscious reaction.

It only became worse when his purple eyes met her own. 

Why Alyn shaved his head when he already had the eyes of Old Valyria was beyond her. 

“Laena?.. My lady?”

Elise’s voice was quiet. It did nothing to distract her from the way Addam seemed to straighten in her presence.

He knew who she was. Of course he did. Alyn had. They knew and if it weren’t for her death Laena never would have known them.  

Did Addam know as she did? As Daemon did? 

Did she even care?

“My lady!” Laena blinked. The sharp voice of Ser Rodrick brought her back. She turned to him, perhaps looking more panicked than she imagined due to his concerned look. “Is something the matter?”

Laena’s mouth gaped open. What could she say? She looked back over to where Addam was sitting, only to now find him gone. “I apologize,” she said slowly. “I thought I saw something…” The knights looked unconvinced, Elise even more so. “Let us go back to the castle,” she steamrolled over. She was decidedly not in the mood . 

Laena was only lucky enough that her daughters thought nothing of her odd behavior. 

“Of course, my lady,” Ser Annis answered. “Anything you wish.”

No more conversation was to be had after that. Other than the occasional murmuring from Rhaena about the sights they happened to pass on by. Laena always humored her, and she did so with joy, but her mood was certainly depleted. 

It was a relief when they stood before the castle again.

Vhagar let out a screech as she began to land, hovering over a minor sand dune. 

Moondancer was once again sticking close to the older dragon, looking like a dot compared to her mother.  

Baela’s mount seemed to be the most well-adjusted dragon Laena had come across. She was certainly the least hostile. Perhaps it would be different if the she-dragon ever came across Sunfyre or Aegon.

Laena let Baela and Rhaena go up the stairs first. She and Elise followed, walking arm in arm, as Sers Rodrick and Annis were close behind. 

She was very unsurprised to see two more household knights posted at the doors, which were already open, awaiting their arrival. The six of them walked through and listened to the sound of the doors shut behind them.

“It’s past noon, but I imagine your grandmother has put aside some food for us,” Laena said, looking down at her daughters. “What is it that your heart desires?” 

“Lamb!” Rhaena’s eyes widened in excitement. She’s certainly gotten the taste for it.

“Lamb?” Laena indulged. “Do you think the kitchen staff made lamb? Just for you?”

Rhaena gasped. “Did you ask?” 

Laena smiled in answer. “How about you, Baela?”

“I could eat,” she shrugged.

Laena chuckled. “Come then, let’s not waste anymore time!”

She walked them to the dining hall on autopilot. The familiar turns and twists through the halls were still engraved in her brain.

When they arrived, she was surprised to find her mother and father sitting at the table. Her Uncle Vaemond and his sons, Daeron and Daemion were also present. She hadn’t even realized they were visiting. 

They were all conversing amongst themselves, but as if they had a shared sixth sense, their heads all shot towards her as she stepped inside. 

Laena looked at her mother. “Did you wait for us?”

“Of course we did,” Rhaenys said. “Come and sit, girls.”

Laena wondered if they started late or if they had actually been sitting there for hours, waiting for her to come back. She would not put either possibility past her mother. 

She turned to Sers Rodrick and Annis, thanking them for their service, before she pushed her daughters toward the table.

Baela sat to her left while Rhaena sat to her right. Elise took her own spot next to Rhaena, sandwiched between her and Daeron. 

The servants under her father’s care came out with large serving platters in their hands. They lined them along the middle of the table, easy to reach. 

Once they pulled the cloches off, her father was the first to stack his plate.

Laena served Baela while Elise served Rhaena. 

“How many greens would you like, love?” Laena asked. 

“Two scoops, please,” Baela smiled. 

Laena gave her two heaping scoops, then laid out three pieces of lamb, and a pile of roasted shrimp. 

As Laena served herself, her father began speaking.

“So, daughter, how was your little trip through Hull? Did you reach Spicetown too?”

“Yes,” she answered politely. “We did quite a bit of walking, I’d say. We spoke with the people and-”

“Did you?” Her father interrupted. Intrigued and amused all at once. 

A flare of annoyance spiked her. 

“We did,” she answered. Her patience was being tested. Was her father always so difficult to speak to? “There are some… conditions I need to ask of you.”

“Conditions?”

“About the smallfolk. I want to help them.” Laena looked around the table, no one seemed bothered by her topic of discussion. “They’ve spoken to me of their ailments. How they have need of better repair for their homes and ships. I offered some of them coin, the rest of what I had.”

“Awfully considerate of you, niece,” her Uncle Vaemond murmured, tearing into a piece of bread.

Her Uncle was always kind to her, if a little arrogant. He reminded her a lot of her father at times. 

Both ambitious and uncaring as to how they reached their goals; their wants. 

“It wasn’t much,” she admitted. “Most of the coin I already spent was used to pay for a ship. It should be arriving within the day, tomorrow at the latest.” 

“You paid for your own ship?” He asked, finally looking at her. He then looked over at his brother with judging eyes. 

“I was in a rush. I’ve made plenty of coin in Pentos so it wasn’t a problem.” 

After that, Vaemond let go of the prospect much easier than she would’ve imagined. 

Laena went on to inform her father of the stories and the conditions of Hull and Spicetown. 

For most she spoke to, food was the least of their concerns. It was all material. 

“Very well. I would be happy to send for more wood and tar.” Her father went further on about ropes, nails, and wattle and daub. 

Laena was afraid to admit that she didn’t understand half of what was being said. 

Alas, it wasn’t like her father ever included her in his duties. She was a woman, and she wasn’t his heir. 

“Has.. Laenor visited lately?” She scrounged up the courage to ask. 

“No,” Corlys answered. Simple and lacking warmth.

Rhaenys took a softer approach. “I haven’t received anything back yet,” she said, referring to the letter she sent him previously, “but I’m sure your brother will update us soon. I know he’ll be happy to hear that you are home.”

Laena could hope. “Do you think he’ll come to Driftmark? Mayhaps bring the boys? It’d be nice for Baela and Rhaena to make some new friends.” Her hand brushed comfortingly over Baela’s shoulder. 

“I’m not sure, dear.”

“Well, it would be good for Lucerys to know more about Driftmark, since he’ll be its Lord one day.” If fate would be so kind this second time around. Rhaenys gave her a knowing look.

Vaemond scoffed. Laena glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “As if those bas-”

“Father!” Daeron placed his hand on Vaemond’s arm.

“Careful, uncle,” Laena’s fiery eyes bore into him, “those are my brother’s sons you’re talking about.”

One could practically taste the tension in the room.

Elise’s hand stilled, cutting through the ham at Rhaena’s disposal.

Baela looked between her mother and her great uncle.

Rhaenys looked down at her plate, if only hoping they could’ve had one nice luncheon. 

“Come now, you know just as well as I-”

“Enough!” Corlys slammed his fist against the table. Only with enough force for his own plate and utensils to clatter. His voice, as simple as it may have been, still boomed across the room.

Laena regretted dining with them. 

Chapter Text

Laena found Rhaena sitting on the floor of her bed chamber with her egg held up against the fireplace.

It wasn’t an unusual thing for her youngest daughter, but it left her yet another reminder of the past.

“Rhaena,” she called. Her daughter’s little head turned in her direction. Her loose hair whipped against her face. “What are you doing in here? Baela is in the library, but I could not find you anywhere.” 

Rhaena weakly shrugged. “I just wanted to be alone.”

Laena sat down beside her. There was now no belly to hinder her movement. Both a gift and a curse. “What’s the matter, sweet girl?” She pursed her lips in sympathy. Rhaena stayed silent, warming her egg. “Is it your father?” Laena caressed her jaw. “Hm?”

Downturned, Rhaena nodded. It was almost unperceivable in its faintness. 

Sad eyes flickered to her. Regretfully another familiar sight. “Why hasn’t he come here?”

Laena tutted. “I… I don’t know, Rhaena.” A truth and a lie. “Your father, I think, is afraid to come here. I think he is afraid to leave the free cities because if he does, then he’ll have to face his…” ghosts, was on the tip of her tongue, “brother.” 

Rhaena pouted. “What if he’s just trying to avoid me?”

Laena inhaled, trying to keep her emotions at bay. How this precious girl could think anything was ever her fault… How she wished Daemon were here just so she could strangle him. “It is true that your father is a complicated man, Rhaena, but understand that what he is doing is no one’s fault but his own.” She placed her hand on her cheek, making sure Rhaena would continue looking into her eyes. “Never ever blame yourself for his own failings. It could never be your fault. You are a gift, Rhaena.”

“Father doesn’t think so,” she sniffled. 

She had promised herself that she wouldn’t defend Daemon anymore, not when it came to their children. But how could she let her little daughter stay so sad? Daemon didn’t deserve her. He didn’t deserve her or Baela. “That isn’t true, my love. He loves you, but he is simply a silly, foolish man. Take it from me, sweet girl.. Fathers are unneeded.” 

Though she was clearly holding onto that residual sadness, Rhaena tilted her head to the side curiously. “What about grandfather?” She asked innocently. 

Now Laena could not hold back a groan. 

Rhaena smiled, letting out a soft giggle. Laena matched her, lightly pinching her chin. “I would never hurt you, Rhaena.” Never again. “I am all you and your sister shall ever need. I promise you that.”

Rhaena looked at her with what she could only describe as adoration. Laena pulled her into her arms, relishing in holding her girl close. 

She doubted she would ever stop missing the feeling. 

Laena rubbed her back and pressed kisses to the side of her face.

When she pulled back, she made sure to keep a hold of Rhaena’s hand, rubbing her thumb against the back of it. “I know you worry about not having a dragon. And I know we’ve already spoken of it, but you should know that it makes you no less Targaryen. It makes you no less your father’s daughter. It makes you no less my daughter. It’s important to me that you know that and believe it. Never let anyone tell you any different, not even yourself.” She tucked a piece of hair behind Rhaena’s ear.

Rhaena nodded, albeit a bit reluctant. 

Laena could not say she was always the best at giving comfort. She had certainly failed in the past, but she hoped she could give some to Rhaena now. 

“Baela said we could share Moondancer until my dragon hatched,” she sniffled. 

Laena smiled. “That was kind of her.”

Her daughters were always close when they were younger.

It wasn’t until Laena died that their companionship depleted. They never stopped being close exactly, it was simply that Rhaena and Baela lived in different places for six years. Despite the visits, it wasn’t the same. 

They were separated, therefore their relationship was strained. 

Laena’s mother should have taken them both under her protection, regardless of what Daemon wanted. 

He ignored Rhaena while she stayed on Dragonstone anyway, what would it have mattered?

Rhaenys wasn’t perfect, but at least she tried with her granddaughters. 

Laena swore she would never let them be separated again.

“I guess,” Rhaena murmured. “But it’s just not the same.”

Laena hummed. “Perhaps not… but I have to say, it reminds me of my brother and I. Before I had Vhagar, he first had Seasmoke, and when he grew big enough, your Uncle Laenor would always let me ride with him. You know, I wanted a hatchling like he did too, but fate had other plans, dearest.”

“I’m not brave like you, mama,” she whispered. 

Her heart just about shattered. “Oh, that is simply not true. You are brave.” She had seen that braveness with her own eyes. “You must stop being so hard on yourself.” She looked up at her with those wet puppy dog eyes. Laena felt her heart clench. “You are not your father, you are not me, and you are not Baela. You are Rhaena. I wouldn’t want you to be any different. You and your sister are perfect as you are.” 

Rhaena looked less than assured. A girl of eight should not be able to look so disheartened. 

I have failed you, a voice inside Laena’s head whispered. She went to touch Rhaena’s cheek, but her daughter moved away. 

That hurt worse than literal dragonfire. Call her dramatic. 

“I’m sorry.. I just want to be alone right now.”

“My sweet love, I only want-”

“Please… mother. Just go.”

Laena wanted to argue. Rhaena was only a girl, she shouldn’t be alone. 

But she could also understand. Had she not told her own mother to give her space not so long ago? 

Perhaps Laena deserved it.

“Alright. I’ll go, but.. I won’t be far, if you need me. I’ll always be here for you.”

Rhaena looked at her. “I know.”

So brave. So wise. She always had been. Laena pressed a kiss to her brow.

⇄

Baela had written a grand total of sixteen letters to her father since they arrived on Driftmark. It had been thirty days since then; she made sure to keep count. Thirty days since she last saw his face. 

Her father had not written back once. Nor had prince Reggio, who would have received them if her father was no longer his resident. 

Prince Reggio may have been too loud, but he was never unkind to her. 

It was her mother that never had much taste for him, despite the smiles she would present him with. Her mother was good at that, making her smile look genuine, even when it wasn’t. 

She once called it the veil of courtesy. 

Baela wondered if she would ever be good at that. She often wore whatever emotion she had clear on her face. 

She looked up when the door to the library opened. It made a creaking noise. 

As if her mind conjured her. There she was, her mother. Dazzling, with her long hair braided into six sections, and never passing up a moment to dress like a goddess.

Her mother had even commissioned her more pants to wear as she admitted to growing tired of wearing so many dresses. 

As much as she knew her father loved her, he never would have done a task that was ‘such a waste of his time,’ as he once said. Laena, however, never batted an eye.

She missed her father, but she was learning how to live without him. 

Her mother had taken to life without Daemon much quicker. She had seemed so much happier since they left Pentos. Brighter. Younger.

Baela was happy for her. Her mother deserved to be happy. 

“Afternoon, issa jorrāelagon,” she greeted in High Valyrian. 

“Rytsas, muña,” Baela smirked, setting aside the parchment in her hands. 

“You’re getting even better. Rolling your R’s,” her mother curled her tongue over the letter for emphasis. 

Baela watched as she sat down right across from her. Her mother planted her hands flat against the table top. 

“I wish I could do it as well as you.”

“You’re still young, you have plenty of time to perfect it.”

“Rhaena has already perfected it.”

An odd look took over her mother’s features. Like contemplation mixed with… a hint of sorrow. “Well, you both have your strengths and that is perfectly fine.” Baela shrugged. She wouldn’t worry too much over it. Her mother was right, she would get there eventually. “I have actually just come from speaking with your sister,” Laena said, speaking slowly and cautiously. 

“Is she alright?” She was fine this morning, Baela thought. 

“She is, love. She’s simply upset over Daemon and, well, everything.” Laena tilted her head to the side, ever the picture of fondness. “She told me you offered to share Moondancer with her.”

A light blush formed on her cheeks. “Moondancer likes her. And it wouldn’t be a problem taking Rhaena with me on rides when she grows big enough. I don’t mind.”

Baela wasn’t the best at sharing, but when it came to people she loved, she would bend. Especially when it came to Rhaena.

“You’re a sweet girl.”

Baela rolled her eyes. “You were the one who always told me we have to look out for each other.”

Her mother raised her eyebrows. “My brother and I always did the same.”

“...Do you miss Uncle Laenor? I can barely remember what he looks like, it has been so long,” she huffed out a laugh. 

Her mother seemed taken aback, whether from the question or the latter part, Baela wasn’t sure. She seemed sadder. Little things seemed to do that to her as of late, like she went elsewhere for a moment. Even with how happy she had been. 

“I do. It would be nice to see him again soon. It would be nice to see your cousins too, hm?”

“Now they I don’t remember at all,” Baela smiled, like she was sharing a joke. 

“Well, you and your sister were very young, barely out of your swaddling clothes. Rhaena not even. Meeting them again would pretty much be like the first time. You would like them.”

“How can you be so sure? It’s not like you know them any better than I.”

Her mother gave her a mock-offended look. “I resent that. Your uncle does write to me on occasion, you know,” a teasing tilt to her voice. “Speaking of writing…” her hand slid to the parchment with Daemon’s name on it, “another letter to your father?” 

There was no judgment in her tone. Only understanding. 

Baela often wondered why her father was so reluctant to come with them to Driftmark. If it was because of his brother, she wished he would just get over it.

She and Rhaena and mother were his family. She didn’t understand how he could just let them go as he did. 

She knew he loved her mother. She knew her mother loved him. 

She had seen the way her mother would tear into her father. How she would shout at him, call him awful things. She had seen the way her father would make her mother cry. How he could get under her skin.

But she had also seen the way her father would look at her mother with such devotion. His eyes would sparkle.

Her mother could be less easy to read, but Baela had seen it all from her too.

“Yes. I’m not quite sure what else I can say to him, though.”

“Perhaps you can just tell him about your day,” Laena said. “You don’t need to say anything specific; it is your letter; your choice, Baela. Your father would love to hear from you, I’m sure.”

“Would he?”

“Baela…” 

She hated the pity. 

“Have you tried to write to him?” She asked. The faster she could change the topic from herself, the better. 

Her mother was honest in her answer. “I have not. Nor do I intend to.” There were times Baela could enjoy that brashness, she couldn’t say this was one of those moments.

“I… I know he has hurt you, mother.”

⇄

She took in a deep breath, leaning back. “Baela,” she began. “There are things you don’t understand.”

“But I do!” Her oldest stressed. Her brows curving in on each other. “I do understand!”

What could Laena say? She didn’t want to argue with her, not over something as trivial as Daemon.

She disliked the knowledge that Baela knew of their marital problems, no matter how obvious they may have been. 

Baela was her child. She deserved to believe everything was perfect even if it wasn’t. 

She didn’t want them to grow up as fast as they had before. Maybe she couldn’t avoid that for them, but she would try.

This sweet daughter of hers had once proclaimed how she wished to die a dragonrider’s death. 

As her grandmother had. As her ‘mother chose.’ If Laena could have, she would have told her it was no true choice at all. She would have told her how she regretted it. That she hated herself for it. Laena never wanted that for her. She had wanted Baela to die old and happy in her bed, surrounded by those she loved. 

From before, Laena had watched over them when both of her girls had died. She was there and she welcomed them back to her.

All she wanted for them now was what she wanted for them then. To be happy and fulfilled. 

“I know it frustrates you, Baela. I know it frustrates the both of you that your father is not here, and I wish I could give you a good explanation, but I can’t. As smart as you both are, there are things you simply cannot know. There are things that I cannot explain.” 

Laena had decided after that first day visiting Spicetown and Hull that she would not speak to anyone of the past unless they already knew. She wasn’t sure how it worked, why her mother was able to remember or why she and Daemon woke up with their memories off the bat. 

All she did know was that it was probably better off if no one else knew what happened.

It seemed no one learned from history anyway.

Baela wore a deep frown. She looked to be on the verge of scowling. “It isn’t fair! It’s not fair!” She hissed. 

Laena sat there, silently. If Baela needed to be angry, she would let her be angry.

Then a thought crossed her mind. “...Do you not want to be here, Baela? Do you wish to go back to Pentos?”

⇄

Baela looked at her with wide eyes. “What?.. No!”

The small, quiet, almost hidden sigh of relief from her mother did not go lost on her. 

Baela was fine with Driftmark. She missed some of the friends she made in Pentos, but she would write to them when she felt like it. 

It wasn’t like she was upset with her mother for taking them away. She was at first, admittedly, but she was more upset at leaving her father than leaving Pentos. 

It was only a place. 

To her mother, it seemed as if it was more like one of the seven hells. 

Her mother had wanted to go back to Driftmark for years, but before that, she would always try to make Pentos seem like this wonderful home. Like it was an honor to live there, free from the politicking and suffocations of Westeros.

Baela began to wonder if that was all a farce for her benefit. For Rhaena’s benefit. 

Was her mother just pretending the entire time? Did she just get sick of pretending for so long?

“If you don’t like it here, we can go back… To Pentos. If it is what you and your sister want, we can go back. We can find your father, if he happens to still be there, and stay.” Her mother nodded, like she was trying to convince herself.

“Why?” Baela asked in a whisper. “Why would you willingly go back when you had wanted to come here for so long? To your home. I don’t understand.” 

“You and your sister… you are my home. You always have been.” What she said made Baela feel warm inside, but her mother looked so guilty. How could those devoted words she uttered possibly make her feel guilty? “It wouldn’t matter to me where we went, as long as you both were by my side.” Laena shook her head as she looked at her. “I would do anything for you, Baela. Anything. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, you could ever do for me to stop seeing you and your sister as the prizes you are.” Baela felt her emotions start to get the better of her. “You could have no dragon, you could kill a man, you could even be a second fucking Maegor,” the curse fell past her lips like it was nothing. Her mother rarely, if ever, cursed in front of her, “and I would love you all the same.” 

Her vision blurred. “Why are you saying this?”

Her mother leaned across the table, and ever so gently cupped her cheek. “I want you to know it, if I have ever failed to tell you that, I want you to know now.”

Never had Baela ever doubted the love her mother had for her. 

“You are everything, Baela. And I will always protect you. Nyke kivigon,” Laena whispered. 

“...I’ll protect you too, muña.” She could no longer stave off the tears. Her eyes shone as she looked upon her mother’s earnest features.

“All I get out of that girl is simple conversation. That is, if she isn’t avoiding me as if I carry some plague,” Corlys griped. 

Rhaenys looked at him with acuity. She herself had been acting differently since Laena arrived.

What in the seven hells was going on with his family? 

He never thought he could be so clueless of the happenings in his own damn castle. 

“Our daughter is quite involved.”

“Stubborn,” he argued, but with no true malice. 

Rhaenys smiled, but she didn’t move closer to him. Not as he would have expected. “She wants to help and she has been. You should be proud, husband.”

He grunted. She had been very interested in the comforts of the smallfolk, yes, but that wasn’t what bothered him. “That is not my concern at the moment. No, you are keeping something from me, Rhaenys. You and our daughter.”

“It has only been 3 moons, Corlys. It will take time for her to adjust.”

“Her behavior doesn’t explain your own.”

“You’re concerned with my behavior?” She laughed.

She had never let his words hold any weight over her. It was something he loved about his wife, but now it was undeniably frustrating. 

“You’re keeping secrets.”

Her eyes turned cold in an instant. “I hardly think you of all people should be concerned if I keep secrets.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He knew what it meant.

“Doesn’t matter,” she scoffed. 

He closed the gap between them, kneeling before her as she sat comfortably on the cushioned seat. He grabbed her hands in his own and pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles. “Tell me what is going on, Rhaenys. I’m not reluctant to beg.” He let a bit of his teeth show as he smiled. 

She rolled her eyes, but he saw that she was smiling too. 

“You truly want to know?” She seemed almost suspicious now.

“Of course I want to know. Tell me.”

She told him.

She told him everything.

At a certain point during her relayment, he remembered on his own. 

He nearly fell flat on his ass the impact of his memories hit him so hard. 

Her hands were the only thing that kept him centered. “Oh gods. Rhaenys,” he breathed. He grabbed her face and pressed a long deep kiss to her lips. Then another, and another. 

She was alive in his grasp. 

The pain he felt when he learned she was gone. The fact that he was forced to live the rest of his life without her. 

“Corlys..” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at him.

“You’ve known for all this time and only now you’ve told me?” He asked. There was no anger, only confusion. Curiosity. Astonishment. 

She shook her head. “I wondered if it would have been better if you never knew. It is a lot to carry.” 

Corlys couldn’t keep his hands off of her. She was here. 

“You should speak to her, Corlys.” Her violet eyes soft, full of sympathy. “Laena is hurt, she hurts from what we did to her. She blames us, and I… I can’t say she’s wrong for that.”

“Our daughter, alive.” Rhaenys nodded, sharing with him his happiness. “I don’t understand how any of this is possible.”

“You ask that question, you’re bound to go mad,” she teased. 

“Perhaps you’re right. None of it matters anyway.. I have you. I have missed you.”

“Go speak to our daughter. It would be good for the both of you.” She didn’t say she missed him too.

He found Laena in the grand hall. 

Alone.

A rarity in itself. He hardly ever saw her without at least one of her children attached to her hip. 

“Daughter!” 

She turned to face him. She looked ever so regal standing before the driftwood throne. 

“Father. Hello.”

⇄

She didn’t know why she came here. 

But she wasn’t surprised to be found. 

“I was lucky to come across you so soon in my search. I have…” When he came closer, she thought nothing of it. When he hugged her, she was stunned. It came out of nowhere.

As she did when they shared their first hug her first night on Driftmark, she slowly returned the embrace.

“I’m grateful,” he whispered. “The gods were kind enough to give you back to me.”

Immediately, she pulled back. Like his touch had burned her, she put space between them. 

He didn’t expect that. 

She searched his eyes, trying to find something there. “You know?” She asked.

“I know,” he answered.

Laena’s breath stuttered. “Have you known all this time?”

A step forward.

She stepped back.

Corlys sighed. “No. Your mother had just finished speaking with me.”

“She told you.”

“Yes, she did. But then I remembered on my own.”

“I remember too,” she blurted out, unable to help herself.

“I know, your mother told me.”

“No, I remember everything.” His brows furrowed. Did her mother not tell him that part? “From the night of my death to the last Targaryen.”

“The last Targaryen?” He asked, clear in his confusion. 

“The dance destroyed everything, father,” she informed him. “I had to watch as my brother died and then my mother. All because of ambition. That was what it truly came down to. A woman cannot inherit because of her sex. Otto Hightower was so set on getting his blood on the throne that he was willing to tear the realm apart for it.” Laena smiled cruelly. “And you know, out of everyone, who he reminded me of the most? You.” 

Her father went from muddled to displeased. “Excuse me?”

“Always so obsessed with getting your blood on the throne that you willingly sacrificed me, your only daughter!” She didn’t spare her mother, why on Earth would she spare her father. 

“Do not compare me to the likes of Otto Hightower!”

“You are both the same! It was only after you nearly lost your own life that you stopped your pursuit!”

“It was your mother’s birthright! You must understand that, daughter. I know you do.”

She was tired of everyone telling her what she must understand. 

“If you truly cared about birthright and mother’s claim to the throne, you would’ve made me heir and my daughters thereafter!” The words fell fast from her lips before she could stop them. She instantly regretted them. 

“Is that what you want? To be made heir?” He asked just as loudly.

“No! No,” she breathed heavily, shaking her head, “it is not my brother I have a quarrel with. It is you, father! I’d never strip him of his rightful title, nor that of his sons, but do not think I haven’t an idea of what you stand for! If I happened to be your first born, never would you have named me heir!” In one of those odd worlds, she had seen it to be so. “For what am I worth to you? A mere daughter.” 

“You mistake me, Laena.” 

“I don’t mistake you at all. All you care for is yourself and how you can be elevated.” She was angry, so angry. She wanted to scream and hit him until she was satisfied. It bubbled up inside of her every time she looked at him, and now she was finally able to let it out. “You and Daemon…” she scoffed, “always so self-serving. No wonder you’re such companions.” She looked at him with determination. “You wanted me to marry so badly, especially after you were slighted by the King when he didn’t choose me. But what about what I wanted? What about my happiness?”

“You never spoke of any unhappine-”

“Yes I did!” She nearly bellowed. Corlys became taken aback. “But when would that have ever mattered to you!” Laena angrily gestured towards him, putting even more space between them. “Always so enamored by power and every perceived slight you felt! I was never anything more than a bargaining chip!” 

“Daughter-”

She was forced to rehash it all. With her mother it was easier to keep a lid on it, but somehow when it came to her father, she was like a piping hot tea kettle. 

“You betrothed me to the Sealord’s son, then when you grew sick of your mistake, you latched onto Daemon! I wanted Maris dead just as much as you, but not just to be given another nuisance!”

“You were fond of him, I know you were,” he argued. 

“But it wasn’t love!” She exclaimed. It hadn’t been then. She thought he was handsome and charming to an extent. She thought getting to know him might’ve been worthwhile. She never fantasized of marrying him, however. Not until she stood at the rocky shores with a cut lip. Not until it was set in stone. 

“Not everyone is lucky enough to marry for love.”

“Only you and mother, it seems,” Laena scoffed. “I had no true need to, but your infatuation with Daemon knew no bounds! Nothing would ever sway you from him. Not my unhappiness, not my death, gods, not even the death of your own brother!” He looked as if she slapped him. “Perhaps you should have married him in my stead!”

“Now you mind your tongue with how you speak to me, young lady!” He growled. 

But Laena would not succumb. Never had she spoken to him this way. Never had she not held her tongue when it came to her parents. Her spite consumed her civility.

Her father was never silent on his feelings for Rhaenyra. How she ‘ruined everything she touched.’

Yet when it came to Daemon, she doubted her father ever once said anything bad about him. 

He must have a shrine of him somewhere in the castle. 

“Why should I? I only speak the truth, father. You never cared for my enjoyment, nor even Laenor’s. You don’t care about your children beyond what we can give you!” She roared. “Perhaps if I had a cock between my legs I would mean more to you, but alas, I am only a woman… I shouldn’t even be surprised, for my own life was a mere footnote in the histories. It was the men that were always given the glory, the praise. I, only known as Daemon’s second wife and mother to his children. If anything, I deserve the title of mother and father to my girls,” she spat with indignation. “Before I passed, It was I who raised them, I who taught them Valyrian in whole, yet it was Daemon who received the credit? No.. They are my children. Mine alone.” 

Her father only listened to her tirade in silence. No sign of understanding. She detected more judgment than sympathy.

But of course he would never understand. He and Daemon are much the same that way.

Her mother gave him two children, just for him to undermine.

Laena had given Daemon two daughters, just for him to ignore. 

Softer, she said, “how disappointed you must have been when I was born.”

Corlys shook his head. For which part, she was yet again left clueless.

She could only look at him with a sad sort of understanding. “What could I have ever done but what pleased you, father?” She paused, letting the question settle over the both of them. “I must know for I haven’t an idea on what true choice I ever had in the matter. With you, with Daemon…” The words forming in her mouth tasted so bitter, she almost didn’t say them. “The painful truth is that… you loved your ambition more than you ever loved me.” 

He didn’t say a word, but he reached out. Laena twisted away in revulsion. “Do not touch me,” she hissed.   

Her father seemed so disheartened. “If you hate me so, why did you come here?”

Another blow dealt to her heart. It felt like a rejection. “I am your daughter.” She stared at him in disbelief. “I am your blood. It seems none of that matters…” when it comes to me. She felt the burning start to fester behind her eyes. “I never came here for you. I came for home. Despite your presence, Driftmark had been my home, and I wanted to come back to it.” 

Corlys looked down, fiddling with his fingers. “What is it you want from me, daughter? An apology?” 

“I want to know why,” she vibrated with quiet anger. “You never protected me as you should have. You failed me and Laenor, over and over again. Yet that is not the worst part.. The worst part is that you feel no remorse.”

Her father’s head shot up. “You cannot presume to know how I feel,” he hissed lowly. 

“But can’t I? You wear it with openness. Defending Daemon when he refused to let me come home,” her voice grew deeper, raw, like she was a dam about to burst, “scolding Laenor for having the gall to mourn me, not to mention the complete lack of emotion when you found out about our deaths! We were nothing but a means to an end. Your burdens!” She refused to let her angry tears fly. She would not give him the satisfaction. “How easy it was for you to latch onto strangers once we were gone.” 

He frowned. “What absurdity do you speak of now?” 

“You did not know them,” Laena said. “Alyn and Addam.” Given by his reaction, her utterance of their names must have been the last thing he expected to hear from her. “The way you interacted with them. The way you-” she took in a sharp, deep breath. “It was clear that you spent little time with them, if ever, before the war. Addam you had known even less, which you so regretted,” she gibed. “Sons in which you treasured more than the children given to you by your lawful wife because I was a mere woman and Laenor was… different.” She always knew of her brother’s ways and her father’s beliefs. She always felt bad for Laenor in that. “Sons you fought for more than you would have for me… and that is what may hurt the most.” She rolled her tongue, locking eyes. “All of this because you are baseless and rotten in desire. Father,” she spat out the title with contempt.  

Corlys’ anger seemed to melt away within an instant, despite her words. “Is that what this was all about? Jealousy?”

“Excuse me?” She sneered. 

“You think I replaced you with your brothers-”

“They are not my brothers! My mother didn’t birth them. She only gave me one brother.” 

“I know you must be angry that I kept their existence from you.”

Laena turned away, rolling her eyes.

“But they are good men!” He tried. 

When she thought of them, she could never bring herself to stop thinking of Baela as well. Her daughter may not remember how Alyn treated her, but Laena did. She wouldn’t let that go simply because her father thought highly of him.

What a joke.

“It doesn’t matter what they are! They will always be a constant reminder of your… infidelity. Your abandonment.”

“I loved your mother,” he said at last, “and I love her still.”

“And yet that love never stopped you from laying with another woman. Twice.”  He had the decency to look ashamed. An admittedly rare look on him. She remembered seeing that look on his face when Alyn had first confronted him. How convenient that it returned during this particular conversation. “Your love is meaningless.” 

“But of course none of that matters. You held no regrets.”

“That isn’t true,” he said. 

“You renamed the Sea Snake after her,” Laena pushed on. “‘The Queen Who Ever Was,’ after she died. You sculpted her likeness on the bow, with her holding a crown.” Her face twisted in amusement, a twinge of added disbelief in the curve of her brows. If only for the fact that she knew how her mother disliked the title given to her. “You abandoned her, continuously. You ignored Laenor and I, you ignored the sons you sired on another woman. But then, miraculously, you paid them both the time of day when one of them saved your life and the other claimed a dragon.”

Her father had been more angry when she first claimed Vhagar than proud. She was a little girl who sought out the largest dragon in the world and succeeded. And her father, he called her reckless.

She could understand it a bit now, as she constantly worried over Rhaena and Baela’s safety. 

At the time she didn’t care if her father was angry, she was so proud of herself. She was in love with Vhagar, in love with flying. Never had she felt so free.

“My.. How much bolder you have grown since I last saw you. I never thought that to be possible.” It was said with such admiration. 

Laena felt as if her head might explode. She wasn’t asking for compliments. She wanted him to understand. She wanted him to hurt, as she did. “And what are you? A craven.” 

That particular word affected him. His face twisted in anger. His hands aching to crush something.

In all her years, never once had he laid a hand on her. Would he break that unsaid rule now?

“There is nothing worse than losing your children,” Corly whispered. “It changes you.”

That was not what she expected at all. “Is that so?” She asked, her mouth set in a soft scowl. “You had once said that you lost everything…”

‘I had lost everything.’ ‘We lost, Corlys. We.’

“...But how could you lose something you never even cared about?” She could not stop it anymore. The wetness that gathered on her tearline. The anger. The sadness.

Laena left him behind before he could offer a retort. 

She walked to her solar, wiping the tears that managed to fall down her face along the way. 

When she got there, she sat at her desk. Her face fell into her hands and she let herself cry. For the first time in moons. 

She sniveled and sobbed. It would’ve been embarrassing if she weren’t alone.

All of that resentment, it was ugly when it reared its head. She kept learning that continuously it seemed.

After she let herself suffer a few more minutes of self-pity, she pulled out a piece of parchment and began writing. 

Laenor, her dearest brother. He would never fail her as their parents had.

Come home, she had written. She told him that she would protect him if need be, as she always had. She just wanted him to come to High Tide. I am sorry for how long it took me to write to you. Forgive me. I would like to see you.

Laena wanted him to be happy. She was well aware of his depression when he lived in the Red Keep. 

Judgment around every corner. Eyes everywhere. 

She could feel the fire lick against her skin.

How it was scorching and infinite.

The bite of the blade.

And the teeth…

Her son was screaming for her.

She shot up, gasping for breath. 

Her hands clawed at her neck. 

He burned me alive, she thought. 

Her eyes moved faster than her mind, scanning her surroundings. 

Her rooms. She was in her rooms. 

It wasn’t Dragonstone. It was the Red Keep.

Her throat felt so raw. 

She realized she was screaming.

“What?! What!” A panicked voice. Hands held her, wrapping around her waist. She was bent, hunching over. “Rhaenyra!” It was his voice. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

Laenor. Laenor was there. They rarely ever shared a bed. 

But how could he even be here now?

He was dead. She was dead. 

“He burned me alive,” she rasped. 

When she turned to look at him, the confusion on his face could not go unnoticed. But oh, he was so beautiful. She had missed him. “What are you talking about, Rhaenyra?”

“Aegon,” she uttered. “Aegon, he burned me alive. He- he burned me alive. He probably killed my son!” 

“A dream,” Laenor tried to calm. “Only a dream.” He kept his hold on her. “You’re alright, Rhaenyra.”

“No. No. It was real, Laenor. I swear,” she stressed. “You must believe me!” 

He looked at her as if she had grown a second head. She couldn’t necessarily blame him, she must sound mad. 

He continued to watch her carefully. Their breathing the only noise made between them.

“Alright… Then tell me. What happened?”

He was trying to be calm in the face of her own panic, but she could see he was no better off.

“What year is it?” She asked.

“What yea- What?” 

“Just tell me, Laenor. The more I know, the better I can tell you.”

His brows were deeply furrowed. “125 AC.”

Then Harwin was still alive… and Laena. 

Her boys. Jace and Luke. 

“We have another son, by next year,” she started. His eyes grew wet at the information. He always was a sap when it came to their children. Certainly when they were babes. “You named him Joffrey.” There was so much she regretted when it came to her first husband. “But…” she grabbed his hand, her lips pursed in sympathy, “Laena dies around the same time.” 

Now his eyes grew wet for another reason.

“What?” He whispered. “She- how?”

Rhaenyra lifted his hand to her lips and placed a kiss on his knuckle. “Childbirth.. The babe would not come. She commanded Vhagar to burn her.” It was what Daemon told her once he found the courage to do so. 

Laenor shook his head, his breath stuttering. 

It was oddly similar to when they first found out about Laena’s passing. Laenor was positively distraught. He hardly wanted to get out of bed before the funeral. 

She didn’t begrudge him that. She knew how much he loved his sister. She knew how badly it hurt when she lost Harwin so soon after. 

Laena and she were close when they were little girls, but they drifted apart. 

After she married Laenor, they had started to regain that closeness, but it was too little.

Daemon had come and swept her away.

“Then what?” He croaked. 

“Harwin and Lord Lyonel had gone to Harrenhal and they too, died.” It was harder for her to say it aloud now more than it was before. Like it was fresher somehow. “The night of Laena’s funeral, Aemond claimed Vhagar. In defense of his brother, and your nieces, Luke had cut out his eye.” 

He stared at her in shock. “Gods.”

She couldn’t blame him. It was a lot, and if she were him, she wouldn’t know what to say.

“After all of it,” she tried to say this next part lightly, “Daemon and I faked your death…” It was complicated. It was selfish. She could admit that now.  

How long the silence lasted between them, made her cringe.

“My death?” He asked. “What do you mean? How do you fake one’s death?” 

She forced herself to look him in the eye. She owed him that much. “After Laena and Harwin, I needed Daemon’s support and I-”

“And you loved him,” Laenor answered.

“I did.”

“Gods, Rhaenyra,” he smiled, but it was sardonic. “Did I agree to it? This plan? How could I agree to it?”

“It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t!” She reached for his hand again, but he pulled away. 

“Go on,” he gestured. “I asked you to tell me and I’m trusting that what you tell me is true, so tell me.” 

There was no use in comforting him. No use in apologizing. It was clear he wanted nothing of that. “Daemon and I married. We had two boys together. Aegon and Viserys.” Her babies. How she missed them. “Father had gotten sicker, he even lost his eye, and his face and body was rotten. It was awful. But six years after Daemon and I married, your own father fell sick from a wound while he was at sea, and your Uncle Vaemond came to petition Lucerys’ claim of Driftmark.”

Laenor rolled his eyes. “Of course he did. Wretched man he is.”

Rhaenyra smiled for the first time that morning. He wasn’t wrong, and Laenor never held love for his uncle. “Daemon took his head when he called our sons bastards and me a whore.” 

“Oh, Rhaenyra,” he sighed. “None of that is true.” 

“Believe me, Laenor, I know.” Nothing Vaemond said could ever be taken to heart. She wouldn’t let it. “Your father luckily survived his fever, but my own was not fortunate enough to survive. He passed in the night just days after the petition. Aegon was crowned King, usurping my throne.”

She still felt bitter over it. 

“I tried for peace, Laenor. I had tried. I had wasted all of my time and effort in doing so, and all it gave me was more sons dead. Luke was the first. Then Jace.” Horror spread across Laenor’s face as her own voice weakened. She looked at him with tears in her eyes, her breath hitching. “All of our sons, they died, Laenor! They died!” She sobbed. 

Wide-eyed, stunned, heartbroken. Laenor held her as she cried. He never let go.

Rhaenyra hugged her boys tightly when she saw them next. She must have held them for ages. If they were a bit confused by her intensity, they never said a thing. 

She was happy to see them again. Overjoyed. She was happy they were all alive.

Laenor, Lucerys, Jacaerys, Harwin. They were all there. 

It was her second chance. A second chance to be better than she was.

She became paranoid after the dance began, and saw betrayal at every turn, even when there wasn’t. 

She felt remorse for some of the things she had done.

But she felt more anger at what was stolen from her.

⇄

Once they arrived at the dragonpit, Laenor held Luke’s hand and Rhaenyra held Jace’s. 

Rhaenyra had told him that Seasmoke was claimed by another rider after he had passed. His own death was a mystery to her, she had admitted. A part of him wondered if he even wanted to know what happened to him.

“Sȳz ñāqes, dārilaros. Ñuha āeksio,” the head dragonkeeper greeted. 

“Sȳz ñāqes.” 

Laenor followed Rhaenyra’s lead as they entered the dark pit. They made great efforts to avoid Sunfyre’s dwellings. 

Rumbling steps greeted Laenor once he reached Seasmoke’s lair. But he could still hear Jace speaking to Vermax from behind him. 

“Māzigon, Seasmoke!” 

Laenor looked on in awe as his dragon came from the darkness. Every time he saw him was like the first time. 

Those large, golden eyes peered down at him. 

“And what is it you remember?” He asked. His hand reached out. Seasmoke chittered, clacking his teeth. “Are you-”

Seasmoke’s massive snout pushed into his palm. He couldn’t finish his sentence before his body was further pushed back. His dragon was nudging him, close to knocking him to the ground.

A laugh bubbled out of Laenor’s throat. Mixed with a sob.

A loud trill erupted from Seasmoke, as if he was joining in on the laughter. 

“You’re happy, hm?”  Laenor scratched at his scales. 

Seasmoke only continued to playfully nudge him, trilling. 

Happy tears streamed down his face. All was well now. It had to be. “I am happy to see you too, ñuha valītsos.” Happy was an understatement. 

⇄

Rhaenyra openly sobbed when she reunited with Syrax. Her golden lady rubbed against her.

“I know. I know. I have missed you too,” she whispered.

There was much she had to mend. 

She would save her children.

She would sit the throne. 

Laena and her daughters strolled the streets of Spicetown. 

This time, she had managed to slip out without any guards to ward her. Her mother would probably be furious once she came back, but she couldn’t be bothered to care. 

Six moons of their stay had been joyous. Other than her confrontation with her father, whom she was still avoiding unless it came to politicking and such. 

Daily rides with her children on Vhagar, visiting the bazaars, interacting with more people. It was all so exhilarating. 

“Moondancer has grown quite a bit, muña… And she is so restless,” Baela said.

She hummed. “Is that so?” 

Baela nodded emphatically. “So I was thinking…”

“She is still too small to ride, Baela.” It was not the first time her daughter had hinted at the idea. It was not the first time Laena denied her. 

Baela groaned. “But mum!..”

Rhaena grinned at her sister mischievously, continuing to hold her mother’s hand. “I told you she would say that!” 

“Have you two been conspiring behind my back?” Laena asked, mock incredulously. 

“How much longer will it take? It has been years already!”

“Well, it may take longer for some dragons to grow. Besides, you yourself are still small, Baela. You must be patient with Moondancer, you’re growing together.”

“I wish I would grow quicker then.” 

“You’re already taller than me,” her sister remarked. “I’m the one who needs to catch up.”

Laena smirked. One day they would grow to be the same height. 

They walked toward a bazaar that was selling fresh bread and fish. Laena handed the woman in charge a few coins in exchange for a plate for Baela and Rhaena to share. 

As her daughters sat near the cart, chatting and eating away, Laena caught sight of a short girl with brown, curly-hair. She was reaching for a piece of bread, conveniently as the attendant wasn’t looking. 

Curious. Laena approached her from behind. “What are you doing?” She asked.

Probably not the best idea to have snuck up on her. The girl stiffened, freezing in place. Her arm stayed outstretched in the air. 

“I’m sorry,” Laena winced. “I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

Slowly, the girl mustered up the courage to face her.

She was taken aback by the harsh scar that covered the girl’s nose. It looked quite fresh. 

The poor thing couldn’t have been much older than her own daughters. 

She looked oddly familiar.

When she didn’t say anything, Laena tentatively asked, “are you hungry?” 

The girl nodded. “Yes.” Her voice was rough for someone so young. “But I… I don’t have any coin, m’lady.”

The girl was going to steal, she realized. Laena had seen what starvation could do to people in Pentos. Laena was lucky enough to never go hungry. “Would you like something to eat, dear?” 

“My name is Nettles, m’lady,” Nettles blurted, unexpected and brash. “Some call me Netty.” 

Laena smiled. “Nettles. I like that. I’m Laena.” 

“M’Lord’s daughter, I know. You have a brother too, right?”

Laena’s smile widened. “Indeed, I do. He’s away at the moment. How about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

Nettles shook her head. Though she relaxed the smallest amount, she still looked like she was ready to run at any moment. 

“Is your mother nearby, perhaps?”

Her eyes grew sad. “She’s dead,” though she said it almost emotionlessly. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine.” What else could she say? She wondered how long this poor girl had been alone for. “Would you like me to buy you something to eat?”

“I have nothing to offer.”

Laena doubted that. Nettles seemed fierce. She could see it in her eyes. “That’s alright, you don’t owe me anything. I’d like to do this for you if you’d let me.” No one should go hungry. Certainly not little girls. 

She only shrugged. It wasn’t a yes, but Laena would take it as such. 

Laena bought her a loaf of bread and two roasted fishes. 

“Thank you,” she said to the vendor. 

When she turned back to Nettles with the food, her brown eyes had grown wide.

Laena handed it all to her. “Would you need some help taking it back to your home, darling?” 

“This is too much, m’lady,” she said, juggling what was given to her. 

“Nonsense. You need it more than I.. Please, you need to eat.”

For the first time in their interaction, Nettles became shy. A light blush darkened her naturally brown cheeks. “Thank you, m’lady. I won’t waste a bit of it.” 

Nettles had turned away so suddenly that Laena was left speechless. No more words had been spoken between them. Laena didn’t even know where the girl was going.

Did she have a home? Had she lost it when her mother died?

Laena should go after her.

“Who was that, mother?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin. 

Baela didn’t look the least apologetic when Laena turned to her. “Her name is Nettles. That is about all I know.” Her hand automatically smoothed down her daughter's locks. They had been slowly removing her dreadlocks. Soon Baela would have her natural curls back.

Rhaena had been more reluctant to join in on the endeavor, but Laena held no doubt that she would eventually. 

Baela shrugged. “Can we go back home now?” 

“Tired already, hm?”

The walk back to the castle, Laena’s thoughts were filled with Nettles. She hardly knew the girl, they had barely spoken, but she was undeniably charmed. 

Laena would have to find her again. Hopefully she could. 

What if she doesn’t want to be found? A voice that sounded concerningly like her mother, supplied. 

Laena led Baela and Rhaena up to her solar. 

They chatted amongst themselves as they often did. Yet Laena’s mind was still elsewhere. 

Daemon was currently in Lys. At least he was. It was a moon ago since Laena had sent her letter and thereafter received his own. It was the first and only letter he had sent them since they arrived six moons ago. 

Her daughters were overjoyed when they read it. 

Laena was happy for them, of course she was, but it had set them back once again.

More questions of when he’d appear. Their letters to their father had practically tripled in production. 

She had no answers for them. He had finally written back after Laena went out of her way to write to him. She wondered what his reason was. 

More questions that she has already asked herself, had reared their heads again. 

Did he somehow never receive Baela and Rhaena’s letters? Did he ignore them?

What was the answer?

Was he truly such a poor man that he couldn’t take two minutes out of his day to explain himself?

And now, all she could do was wonder. Wonder about everything.

Her mother, her father, her daughters, her brother. Daemon.

When she looked over at her daughters, she felt relief and love wash over her.

Without fail, they had stuck to her side like glue and she loved it, yet she could never ignore the underlying problem. 

She would never be enough. 

It was selfish of her to think like that. It was childish. She knew all of that well.

But her mind refused to let her ignore it.

Vhagar let out an earth-rumbling roar, disrupting her thoughts. In an instant, she felt anger pool inside her chest, replacing her melancholy. 

Vhagar’s anger. 

Without processing, she went over to the window. Before she could look over to where her dragon was, a spot of red greeted her eyes. “Oh gods.” Caraxes, unmistakingly. No other dragon looked as he did. He was twirling in the air, gaining speed toward Driftmark. 

Feet pattered towards her. 

Baela’s gasp infiltrated her ears. “Kepa!” She shouted as if he could hear her. The excitement in her voice was clear. 

Rhaena, more observant, looked away from the window and up to her mother, seeing the anxiety that lined her features. 

Laena felt a hand slip inside her own, breaking her focus from the window. She looked down to see Rhaena. Her face immediately softened and her free hand clasped over their two joined ones. 

Rhaena ducked her head, sweetly. A picture of innocence. 

“Mama, please let us go and see him! It has been forever!” Baela exclaimed, tugging on her mother’s dress. 

Laena then looked over at her. She made sure to keep any worry off of her face. “Of course, sweetling. I’m sure your father would enjoy your welcome.” It almost sounded rehearsed to her own ears. She hated that. Her daughters deserved nothing but integrity from their mother. 

“Don’t you want to see him too, muña?” Baela asked innocently. 

“Maybe later, my love. For now, you and your sister can greet him, don’t let me keep you.” Knowing Daemon, he would end up finding her all on his own anyway. 

Baela grinned at her, sharp and full of fire. “Rhaena, come, let us see father.” She went around to tug at her sister’s free hand. 

Rhaena looked up at her, a silent question in her eyes. Laena adored her, she adored them both so dearly. She winked at her daughter, giving her a short nod of assurance. 

At that, Rhaena finally let go of her hand. Excitement now seemed to thrum through her as much as it did her sister. Laena watched as they ran away together, down the stairs. Goodness, they didn’t waste any time. 

Once they were out of earshot, a sigh pulled itself past her lips. Her beautiful girls, hopefully they wouldn’t be disappointed. 

Laena turned back to the window and searched the sky. Caraxes grew closer and closer. 

Vhagar’s call grew louder, yet another warning. No doubt some of Laena’s anxiety mixed in with her own. 

Once he was close enough, Caraxes let out a shrill whistle of his own. It pierced her ears from inside. 

She took in slow, deep breaths. Hopefully her calm would help her beloved do the same.

She could hardly believe that hope herself. 

Chapter Text

Caraxes was quick to take off as soon as he dismounted. 

“Daemon!” Taking his eyes off of his mount’s quickly rising form, there Rhaenys was. Her feet briskly marched towards him. Not the woman he had hoped to see, but it was no less expected. 

They lacked much civility since his brother was crowned King. That lack had grown when he married her daughter. 

“Cousin!” He greeted. 

“You should not be here!” She called. 

His cousin was still a good span away, but he couldn’t mistake her words. Nor could he miss the anger in them. 

“Why is that?” He slowly began to break the gap between them. Meleys watched him, clacking her teeth in warning. If he made a sudden move, she would probably snatch him up and swallow him whole. “I want to see my wife and my daughters.” 

Rhaenys knew.  

“Laena doesn’t want to see you, Daemon. Neither do your daughters.” 

Laena, he could somewhat believe. But Baela and Rhaena? He highly doubted. 

“I’d like to see that for myself if you don’t mind, cousin,” he said disinterestedly.

When he went to walk past, she put her hand on his chest. He looked down, then up at her face. She was blank of emotion. “If you think to hurt her again, I will kill you, Daemon. Believe that.”

He offered her no words in return. He believed her.

She let him pass her by with a hard look.

Daemon walked up to the castle with no difficulty. When the guards opened the heavy doors for him, he was assaulted by two little bodies. 

Equal squealings of “Kepa!”  

He wrapped his arms around Baela and Rhaena and squeezed them tightly.

“I have missed you girls.” He looked up. Yet again he was left without seeing the woman he wanted to see. “Where’s your mother?”

“In her solar!” Rhaena chirped. 

“She is taking a bath now, My Prince,” Elise corrected. He offered her a curt nod in acknowledgement. 

His attention was quickly taken by Corlys, with his arms outstretched, ready to clasp him on the shoulder in welcome. 

“It is good to see you, old friend!” Corlys boasted. “Come, we can all reconvene in my solar.”

Daemon kept his arm wrapped around Baela’s shoulder. Corlys and Rhaena walked ahead, hand in hand. A curious development. 

“Where have you been, father?” He looked down to see Baela wearing a scowl. She was fearless in her pursuit. 

So much like her mother, he marveled. Both fierce and brave. They even scrunched their noses up the same when they were angry.

“I have been spending some time in the free cities. Pentos and Lys mostly.”

“Why didn’t you ever write?” She asked.

“I was busy.” He had no good reason for her.

He was slighted by Laena when she left him behind. 

He had thought over how heartless she was in doing so for moons on end. She had taken herself and their daughters without a care for him. 

He was angry at her for that. 

He had forgone his daughter’s letters in exchange for whoring and drinking.

His tenth night in Lys, when Prince Reggio wrote to him that Laena had sent him a letter of her own, the glee he felt was momentous.  

Her letter was plain, there was no warmth there, but she had written to him. She had finally acknowledged him. 

He figured it was perhaps time for him to return. 

“You weren’t too busy after mother wrote to you,” she sniffed, turning up her little nose. 

Daemon smirked. “I should’ve written sooner, I admit,” he acquiesced. “Would you ever be able to find it in your heart to forgive me?” 

Baela rolled her eyes at his dramatics. “I’m still angry at you.” 

“That’s alright,” he smoothed down her hair, “we have time.”

Baela left him behind to enter the door to Corlys’ solar. 

“Come, sit.” Corlys motioned to the chair closest to the fireplace, while he sat opposite. “I imagine there is much to discuss.”

Daemon leaned his head against the backrest. His gaze shifted to Baela and Rhaena, who looked to be beginning a new game of Cyvasse, before meeting Corlys' purple eyes. “There isn’t much to tell. I stayed in Pentos mostly, then Lys, then Braavos.” 

“Braavos?” That truth seemed to give his friend a good laugh. 

“Indeed. Laena and I had traveled there before, in the beginning of our marriage. We were able to get by. It was no different now.” His wife was always the one who tried to keep the peace. She often used to tell him how he acted like a child when it came to the Braavosi. 

“Ah, that girl…” Corlys shook his head. “She pains me.” 

Daemon raised his eyebrows. “Is that so? What has my wife done that ails you so, Corlys?”

Corlys tsked. “She hounded me not so long ago, nearly tore me apart in her anger.”

He offered him a wry smile. “I could understand that.” 

Knowing Laena, she already told her father how much of a lout her husband was.

“To say she is only indifferent with me would be a lie, but she has taken a liking to the people of Driftmark. They love her.”

Daemon smiled fondly. “What’s not to love?” 

⇄

Laena squeezed out the residual water in her hair. Her hand plucked the silk wrap that sat stranded on the settee, and wrapped it over her curls. 

“Is there anything else I can get for you, My Lady?” Elise asked.

Laena looked over at her with a kind smile. “I’m alright, thank you, Elise. I think I’m going to retire to my solar. I left some matters unattended there.” 

“Let me escort you, then.”

Laena offered her her arm. “I’d like that.”

Her gown swished as they walked the short distance down the hall. They managed to fit their two bodies through the doorway without snagging it, which was a miraculous achievement for Laena.

She ended up sitting at her desk, holding her head up with her fist. Her eyes stayed attentive on the wooden exterior. 

“What are you going to do now, Laena?” Elise asked.

She looked up at Elise with sudden uncontrolled amusement. 

Daemon. It all came down to Daemon. 

“What am I supposed to do?” She let out a pitiful chuckle. “I feel like I should have expected it, but alas, I didn’t. I can only hope his presence can be stalled for a bit longer. Speaking with him is not something I desire.” 

“Do you desire something more?” Elise raised her eyebrows suggestively. 

She barked out a laugh. “I would sooner tear off his head with my bare hands,” she teased.

It would’ve been funny, or perhaps sadistic, to say aloud, but Laena had fantasized about Daemon’s death many times in the past.

She thought poison might do the trick. Perhaps she could slip a few drops into the arbor wine he so abhorred yet drank like he was a man starved. It has always been said that poison was a woman’s weapon. Let it be so, she figured.

Ages ago, she had once thought to herself, if I pushed him off the balcony, would he survive that? She had wondered about that particular case a lot in Pentos.

That night, when she pleaded with him yet again for their family to return home, she wondered if she could lift him just enough for his body to tip over the landing. 

She never did, she only stared after him with that thought. She only kissed his shoulder and told him he was ‘more than this.’

Once, after she discovered he was the reason for Thalia's departure, she wondered if she'd have the strength to drive her dagger, a gift from her twelfth name day, into her husband's heart.  

As she had told her mother, she was a coward. All she did was wonder. 

“It is clear that he longs for you, My Lady.” 

“Is that so?” Laena asked dryly, twisting a loose curl with her finger. “I doubt that man longs for anything but his brother.”

Elise let out a small chuckle. “I don’t know Prince Daemon as well as you, My Lady, but I am sure that he loves you. He asked of your whereabouts right away.”

Laena couldn’t force out another laugh. She appreciated Elise, and her company was always welcome, but it was clear that she knew nothing of what she was talking about. 

“Ah!” Her friend exclaimed. “I think I hear little feet coming our way!”

Sure enough, Laena began to hear the tell sign of shoes hitting the hardwood floors. 

“Muña! Muña!” Baela called. She rushed into her mother’s embrace, as did her sister, though Rhaena opted to stuff her little head into her side. “We brought Kepa!” 

Laena looked from them and up to the archway. Daemon Targaryen in the flesh.

He wore a cocksure smile on his face, and he looked… awful.

⇄

She was so beautiful. Her hair wrapped up in a bun, loose curls framing her face. 

She was just as he remembered her. If anything, she improved. 

“Hello, Laena,” he greeted. 

“Daemon.”

His wife was keeping her patience for the sake of their daughters. She was holding onto them like they were her lifeline. 

Daemon looked to Elise. “Would you mind taking Baela and Rhaena? I need to speak with my wife.”

“Daemon,” Laena warned. “Do not-” she took in a breath, interrupting herself.

Baela looked up at her mother with a disarming smile. “Rhaena and I can let you and father talk, muña. We don’t mind,” her eyes strayed toward her sister, whose face was buried into Laena’s side, “do we, Rhaena?”

Half of Rhaena’s face came into view. Just enough to glare at her older sister. Baela matched her in kind, jerking her head as if to entice her away. 

“Come along, girls,” Elise said, holding out her hand. 

Laena looked none too pleased, but she leaned down and placed two lingering kisses on each of their girls’ heads. 

“We’ll go for a ride later,” Daemon heard her promise. 

That seemed to lighten Rhaena’s mood.

His little daughters trotted off with Elise. They tugged her forward with renewed vigor.

When he turned his attention back to Laena, she was looking at him with dull eyes. “You look beautiful,” he said. 

She offered him a wry smile. “What are you doing here, Daemon?”

He shrugged, taking her question in stride. “I had traveled some, stayed in Pentos for four moons, Lys for nearly two, and the rest in Braavos. I figured it had been long enough.. I missed you and the children.” 

His eyes scanned the room for a moment, buying time to accumulate from the silence she gave him. When he gained the courage to look upon her face once more, all he found was doubt. 

“Did you not think I would?” Daemon asked. 

“It has been six moons and a total of one letter. Forgive me if my faith in you was misguided.” Her voice was full of sarcasm. It amused him. “You should have written first.” 

“Well, I am here now,” he drawled. “I figured it would’ve been a nice surprise.”

Laena scoffed. “Since when are you full of surprises? No, you came as you did to cause a spectacle.”

“Is there truly a difference?”

His wife was not amused. “Perhaps not.”

⇄

He reminded her of a snake with how easy it was for him to slither towards her. She couldn’t even stand without him hovering.

When his hand cupped her cheek, it made her skin crawl.

On instinct, she swatted him away. “Do not touch me!” 

Miffed, he erupted, “you were the one who abandoned me!”

She recoiled back in bafflement. “It was what you wanted!” 

“I never wanted that!” Daemon spat. “I never thought you would die!”

Now Laena was left even more confused. 

She walked towards him as if he were a cornered animal. “I heard the maester, Daemon. I heard him when he said there was nothing left he could do for me, save for cutting open my belly!” A tinge of a growl entered her voice. “And you… you hesitated!” He shook his head, adamantly. “How on Earth could you not have known I was dying?” 

“I would have done something!” He shouted.

She couldn’t even tell him to quiet down, she was so furious. The audacity he had. 

⇄

She stared at him in disgust. It was always disgust. “Do not look at me like that,” he groused. 

She didn’t bother to act coy. “I am just trying to understand you – to understand what you are trying to do, Daemon. What is it? Do you expect me to be moved by this? Do you expect me to believe you?” 

“I had told him no, Laena.” It had been a simple shake of his head, but it was still a no. “I would never do that to you. Ever.” 

“Right, well… That’s nice of you I suppose.”

Daemon sighed. It seemed six moons didn’t soften her resolve when it came to him. 

She could always hold a grudge. 

“Do you regret it?” He asked. “Leaving me behind?” 

She looked at him, surprise evident from his question. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“The truth.” 

“No,” Laena was quick to crush him. “I don’t. If I could, I would do it all over again.” When he looked into her eyes, he knew she intended for her words to hurt. “I was afraid before… I can admit that now… I was afraid of what leaving you behind in Pentos would mean, and I was afraid of what I would find here,” she weakly gestured around her solar. “But then I died… and I- I couldn’t let myself suffer just because it was scary. I couldn’t let my daughters suffer because of that fear. Baela and Rhaena deserve better of me. It was the right choice.”

It was a lot to understand. He’d rather pretend she never said it at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t disappointed her. That he hadn’t disappointed all of them. “They are not happy with me.”

She hummed, smiling in a way that told him she found him ridiculous. “Woe is you, indeed.”

“Keep insulting me, that is fine,” he said, feigning aloofness.

Laena, looking down at the pages of her book, widened her eyes in dramatic effect. “Is it? Well, thank you for your… tolerable nature, Daemon. I live to serve you.” 

The sarcasm dripping from her tone only made him smile. 

“You shouldn’t have come,” she said. 

“I wanted to see you, Laena. Where else would I have gone?”

“You know exactly…”

 “You wrote to me!” He exclaimed. 

“Please, that couldn’t have possibly been the reason you came.”

“It was!”

“It was an entire moon ago!”

He pinched his nose in frustration. “Must you fight with me?”

“Let me say this to you slower, so you can understand.” His wife came to him, forgoing her book and papers. He thought, he hoped, she was going to touch him. Instead, she stepped close enough to him that her breath hit his cheek. “You. Should. Not. Have. Come.” 

Daemon’s eyes danced between each of her own. “I saw you. In Harrenhal.” Whatever they spoke of didn’t matter at that moment. He couldn’t help himself when she was so close. “You had walked the halls, stared at me in the corner of my bed chambers,” he let out a small laugh. 

“You are mad,” she whispered. But she didn’t move away. He could have rejoiced.

“You had even spoken to me.” 

‘Have you looked after our girls?’

“Bloody hell,” Laena scoffed. “Even dead I wasn’t absolved of your selfish desires.”

He furrowed his brows. “Was it not you?”

⇄

She almost felt bad for him.

“No, Daemon… Whatever you saw in that haunted place, it wasn’t me. If it was, do you honestly think I would have supported your delusions?”

Of course she had seen his spiral, that she could not miss, but she never set a foot inside the castle of Harrenhal. It was like she was barred from it. The one time she ever did, it was outside before the weirwood. Suddenly, she was there, and her phantom hand had pressed against the trunk. 

Alongside Daemon she had witnessed the brief depiction of the next two hundred years of Targaryen Kings. 

She had no choice.

“But I saw you.”

“I wasn’t able to intervene! Never. I had told you this, hadn’t I?” He stared at her as if she were once more a ghost. “I was not your problem solver, Daemon!” An incredulous, short laugh, left her lips. “I was a person too, not your mother, but your wife. Believe me, I would’ve sooner called you an ass if I was able to haunt you! What you saw, it was your guilt!” 

Alys, undoubtedly, had played tricks on him. She seemed like the sort to do so.

Laena couldn’t say it was undeserved. 

⇄

Her eyes were watery as she looked up at him.

He was unable to recall the last time he had seen them dry.

“We are different people now, Daemon,” she said softly, much too soft.

Daemon shook his head, at a loss. “It has only been six moons, we couldn’t have changed that much.”

An exhale through the nose. “You still don’t understand. I’m not just speaking of when we first awoke… I’m speaking of all of it .”

“We are married, Laena,” he said dumbly. “Our vows were until death.”

“Until death,” she parroted. “Death already happened, Daemon.” 

“Not anymore, clearly. We are both here alive and breathing. Is it so wrong that I wish to be with you?” His question was almost harsh in its devotion. 

Laena didn’t scoff as he might’ve expected. “How am I supposed to believe you after everything I saw? Tell me that.”

He searched her face. He couldn’t help himself. It was hard to focus on her words. “With what?”

“You and Rhaenyra married, as we did long ago. You married her, what, a fortnight after my funeral? Tell me how you could love me if you were so quick to discard me? I was dead, yes, but there is a grieving period for a reason.”  

When she moved away from him, he felt cold.

“I don’t know if any answer I give would be good enough.”

“It probably won’t,” she commented.

“I may have wavered at times, but I always loved you, Laena,” Daemon insisted. “I have made countless mistakes, to which you’ve never been shy in relaying, but it was never because of you. It was never because of Viserys, or Rhaenyra – it was…”

“It was what?” She asked.

Me. “You had once said that you were not the wife I would have wished, but if that were true, I never would have married you. You caught my eye at Rhaenyra’s wedding-”

“Perhaps because I was staring at you, you fool.”

He huffed out an amused breath. “You were unafraid and beautiful. You had only grown more so. Look at you now.”

“Empty flattery will get you nowhere. ”  

It was easy for her to test his patience. “You want to know the truth? I loved you more than anyone.” 

“More than anyone?” She asked. “All you do is lie!” He heard Vhagar let out a loud roar from the outside. Meleys was eager to join in. “I saw it! With my own eyes! The way your own lit up when you looked at her!” She stared at him with scrutiny. “The day you wed, you were so happy!” 

He shook his head, biting his tongue to refrain himself from speaking. 

Daemon was close to backing up when she approached him. When her hand raised, he thought she was going to slap him. Imagine his surprise when her fingers traced the hardened smile lines that adored his face. A soft gesture. 

He grabbed her by the wrist and kissed her palm. 

Laena’s eyes fluttered in contemplation. 

“You had made your own choices, long ago. You chose to stay away. You distanced yourself and used that to blame me!” 

She stepped away.

He soured.

“I never blamed you, Laena!” 

A tear slipped down her cheek.

She acted none the wiser, swiping it away and carrying on. “You were so happy, and all it cost was for me to die. Your grief, gone so quickly.” 

“No. No. That is not true.” 

“I had seen all I needed to see,” she answered, calmer. “I don’t understand what this prodding gets you, other than satisfaction.” 

“I love you, Laena,” he said. 

“You say that you love me, but had you ever admitted that to anyone else? Rhaenyra had blatantly asked you, the night you reunited, if you loved me. She asked you! Yet, all your fat mouth could say was that ‘we were happy enough.’ In what world?” Laena sneered. “You’ve said the words to me, scarce as they’d been, but if anyone asked you, never would you proclaim it to them.” 

“It was no one’s concern but ours!” His voice raised in indignation. 

“Oh,” his wife said simply, as if she were only taking note of the weather, “sure.” 

“Is that what you want? For me to spout it out to everyone I come across?”

Her lip curled as she said the words, “you’re such a prick.” 

“I’d do that for you, if it was what you wanted. Is it?” Forgive him if he was a little petty. 

⇄

She wanted him to be honest. 

“When I first saw you, after I commanded Vhagar, you were like a walking corpse.” Ironic, considering the fact that, at that time, she could’ve been considered one as well. “You were stiff and neglectful of our daughters, as per usual,” she said the last part with derision. “But when you finally took a step on Driftmark and you saw her, it was like you became lighter. One might even say whole... Because what was I, or your daughters, worth in the face of the woman you so dearly loved. You two, who were meant to burn for each other.”

Downcasted, there was nothing for her former husband to say.

“Instead of comforting them and keeping them close, you were off making eyes at your niece from across the damn balcony.”

He cleared his throat. “Haven’t we spoken of this?” 

“We’ve spoken of many things. Does it even matter?” She asked, her brows furrowed. “It will always be about our daughters. I will never stop being angry at the way you treated them, don’t you understand? They are my everything.” Her reason for living, her reason for happiness. Perfect creatures from the moment she knew they grew inside her belly. “I had hoped they would have been your everything too.” 

“I did not come here to be chastised as if I’m a child!” A look of discomfort and reproval flashed over his face. “I’m not the only one who participated that day.” 

Of course he would shift the guilt. Let Rhaenyra have a share. Fair enough, she supposed. “Believe me, I know. Rhaenyra was not shy either. She had lost Harwin and was not afraid to chase you right after. But at least she shed tears for him. At least she held her sons close in the face of grief. Not you, but that’s beneath you, isn’t it? Being a father, such a nuisance for you.” 

“You’re utterly absurd, Laena. I am not perfect, but never have I ever hurt our girls.”

Physically? No. She would give him that. A poor argument, but she would give it to him.  

His ignorance, however, had certainly hurt them.

“You are a man, and as all men, you are fueled by lust. It makes you a fool, Daemon.” And because she was feeling particularly cruel, she smiled. “She paid you attention. It was something I had been lacking in giving you for a long while. Positive attention, at least,” she said, weighing the words inside her head. “Oh, her lust surely powered your own, because when we conceived our boy, it was my chore to lay with the sake of you,” she overstated, sneering in his face.

The want to have her. His caresses that Laena could still feel ghosting across her skin. ‘I want you,’ he had said. ‘I need you, Laena.’

It had been a long time since she let herself be swept up by him. 

She had always wanted him, as he always wanted her. He never had to pressure her, but she had held her resolve against him for so long. 

She disliked how she had still desired him. 

They hadn’t been newlyweds, barely unable to keep their hands off of each other. They were broken in, and in her case, resentful. 

When she found out she was pregnant again, she remembered her words being, ‘wonderful, another child for you to ignore.’ Daemon was not too pleased by that. 

She, too, remembered how the Pentoshi Maester gaped like a fish.  

“I thought it was because I loved her,” he mocked. “Hm? Which is it?”

“Oh, it is both,” she assured petulantly.

The silence sobered her much too quickly for her liking.

Never had she suffered from so much change in mood since she was pregnant with her boy. She felt like a hormonal travesty.

⇄

A light sheen covered the purple of her eyes. 

“Laena.. Please do not cry.” He may be a monster, but he didn’t enjoy seeing her hurt.

Laena let out a shuddering breath. 

⇄

“It is not for the reason you think.” Her voice was slightly thick, trying to keep her emotions under check. 

She could deny it all she liked, but the truth was that it did in fact hurt her. It was the agonizing knowledge that she would never be enough for anyone. 

Not for her children, or her parents, or her lovers. 

“I am utterly sacrificial. A pawn. I have no purpose.” Laena pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

⇄

In the earlier days of his stay at Harrenhal, he and Laena spent nearly an entire day locked up in his room. Well, the figment of her, he now realized. 

Her haunting presence, her taunting him. 

He had spoken to her. And when she didn’t simply stare at him, slumped over in the corner, she would answer. 

Her voice was often dull, and even inhuman at times. She had no sympathy for him, not even as a ghost.

“Why are you here?” He asked. “To punish me, isn’t it?”

“You deserve a bit of punishment,” she replied airily, “do you not think? Husband.” 

He nodded, regretfully. Squeezing his eyes shut, hoping the pain would lessen. His head was constantly pounding. 

“I had tried, Laena.”

“Did you?”

Her eyes were emotionless. 

He inhaled sharply. “I deserve this. Your anger. I deserve it.”

He knew. He knew. But he didn’t want her to leave.

“You haunted me,” he whispered. 

Before she could comprehend his words, his hands found their way to cup her cheeks. 

Laena looked up at him, tears lining her eyes. A few managed to spill over. 

She looked, Daemon could only describe as horrified. 

“I saw you before Harrenhal too.” He, himself, was close to hysteria. “I saw you so many times,” His voice came out trembling as if he were speaking of something revered. To him, they were the only people left in the entire world. “Everyday I saw your face, everyday I thought of you. You haunted me,” his last words whispered. 

Laena’s hands now gripped at his wrists. Whether to keep him close or push him away, he wasn’t able to find out before he kissed her. 

Daemon practically licked the tears off of her face. 

He was rudely interrupted when she pushed him, coming to her senses. 

“No.” Her voice hardened. “No! You do not get to do that! Damn you!” She cursed.

She distanced herself further.  

“Laena-” he tried. 

“Where was this, I ask, when I was admitting to disappointing you as your wife on the top of that fucking manse?! Where was this devotion, then?” She stressed, shaking her hands as if she wanted to throttle something. “It was nowhere to be found! I was the one who comforted you!” Her voice, loud and projecting, broke on the last word. A water fountain of tears streamed down her face. “I put you first, above me, always! I am tired of it, and you cannot rewrite it now, Daemon!” 

He went to touch her face and wipe away her tears, but she stepped back. He dropped his hand.

He couldn’t look her in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

She sniffled, shrugging her shoulders. “It doesn’t change anything.” She sounded like she was giving up. Daemon misliked that. “For that to happen, you would need to be an entirely different person, and you are simply… not. I’m not asking you to be, because what would that make me?” 

“I want to be better for you, Laena.”

He meant it, as feeble as it was. 

“I don’t believe you. For me? It was never about me.”

“It will always be about you. Of course it would. You are my wife.”

“Empty title,” she brushed off. “Your first wife is a testament to that.” 

He never really felt guilty about Rhea Royce. If anything, he felt like he should’ve killed her sooner.

But he did feel guilty about Laena.

Even before he went to that cursed castle, he had often dreamed of her. 

His guilt plagued him.

But his love kept him stuck in time. Forever frozen. 

So he tried to forget. He tried to say or hear her name as little as possible. 

That was difficult, living with Rhaenyra. She would like to speak to him about her. 

“I love you,” he said again, feeling like a lackwit. 

She huffed out an unamused laugh. “You may have wavered for a time, but you went back to her. You always would. You were ‘meant to serve her until the end of your days, or the end of your story.’” His wife sounded close to wistful as she recalled that memory of his. 

He’d rather she sounded bitter. He could understand her anger, but this… he was left holding his breath. 

“You could not stay away. You had tried,” Laena spoke in High Valyrian. As he had then.

“Where will you go now?” Laena asked him. 

He kept his head down, shuffling his clothes together. “To the Red Keep, I’d wager.”

“Go on back to your life, hm?” 

He paused. 

When Daemon found the courage to look her in the eye, her expression was blank.

No grief. No anger. No disgust. 

Nothing.

“I love her,” he said. 

His dead second wife smiled at him. “I know, Daemon. I have known for years.”

“I love you,” he stuttered out, the familiar pain gripped at his chest. 

It wasn’t a lie.

He never lied to her like this.

His dead wife hummed. “I am dead, Daemon.”

“...I know,” he whispered. 

She was silent for quite a long time before he heard her voice again. “I suppose ‘goodbye’ would be a poor expression.” A long pause. Where he could hear his own heartbeat in the silence of the room. “I cannot stay with you. I cannot come with you.” 

The familiar sting of tears doubled in sensation. He looked up to the ceiling as she continued sitting in the corner.  

“I don’t want you to go,” he said. It felt like someone was squeezing his chest. He was close to gasping in pain. “Please, Laena.” 

When he looked back down, she was gone. 

He knew it would be so, but it hurt him no less. 

After what felt like hours, he had adorned his armor and left Harrenhal. 

“I did not mean it like that,” he said softly. 

Laena didn’t seem to care. She pushed on. “But Rhaenyra is not here and I am, so of course you latch onto me and you hurt me without any care for how it makes me feel.”

“If I wanted Rhaenyra, I would have gone to her! Yet I am here with you, does that not tell you where my heart lies?”

“What is the matter with you, Daemon?” 

The harshness of that query left him reeling for a moment. 

“Of course you came here,” Laena laughed. “It is so much easier. No court, or your brother for that matter, looking down upon you with distaste. Turning up their pious noses!” She sneered. “But with me, on Driftmark, you may flout about as you please, fuck a thousand whores right on the Driftwood throne if that is what you desire, because the gods know nothing would be of consequence to you! What could I do? The daughter of your biggest supporter!” 

“I’m sure your father wouldn’t allow me to fuck a thousand whores on his throne,” he said dryly. 

“I’m glad that’s what you got out of it, Daemon. Now go away.”

“No, stop trying to push me away, Laena.” No matter how much she begged. His place was here, with her and their daughters. “You cannot deny my care for you, Laena. How I feel.”

⇄

Laena swallowed. A small noise of acknowledgement left her throat. It was a meek, almost pitiful sound. 

“How you feel,” she echoed. “Of course… how could I possibly ever think that you would consider me for a change?” She let out a disbelieving laugh, turning from him. 

She had just said it, how he took no consideration for her feelings. Then he went off and made it about himself. 

She was almost impressed. 

“I always consider you, Laena! I-” a small huff left his lips, “I know you feel slighted when it comes to Rhaenyra and I.”

That is not- “That is not true, you wretched-”

He held up a hand, having the gall to silence her. She didn’t know why she bothered. “But you must know that it was never about her. I wasn’t off moping in Pentos, thinking of her. “

She hummed, unable to keep her thoughts to herself. “Fair enough.. You were probably thinking of your brother instead.”

He let out a dry chuckle. “I thought of you. I thought of our daughters. I thought of… I thought of our son.”

Laena could feel the color drain from her face. “You’re a cruel man, bringing him up in the midst of this, trying to soften me.” She frowned in disgust. 

“Am I not allowed to grieve his loss?” He asked waspishly.

She shook her head, on the cusp of rolling her eyes in irritation. Another way to keep more tears at bay.

It was better for her to be angry instead of sad.

He had grieved Visenya, if only for a short moment, she had witnessed that.

Had he done the same for their boy? How could she have missed it? 

“I’m sure you’re fine.” She hoped she came off nonchalant, but the slight shiver in her voice might’ve given her away. “Rhaenyra had given you a son – she had given you two. All while my dreaded womb couldn’t even provide you with one.”

“I never condemned you for that. Our daughters were always enough.”

“Were they?” She asked. Her voice low, but high in scrutiny. 

Baela and Rhaena were certainly enough for her, but for Daemon? 

It was getting harder for her to tell. 

“Of course they were. They are.” 

He looked so earnest. He spoke so softly. “You were so happy to have a son,” she reminisced. “When I was pregnant with him. Right away, you knew it would be a boy. You were joyful.”

“It had been close to nine years since we last had a little one running around.”

“And you wanted another.” She couldn’t help but see the irony in that. 

“I wanted another child with my wife, yes. I don’t understand what the problem is.”

“When I had complained of my discomfort, and asked you to come home so I could give birth here, did you ever consider it?”

“Laena-”

“I’m not trying to start another fight. I just-” she sighed, “I want to know.” 

He looked uncomfortable. She knew his answer would leave her disappointed. “No. I couldn’t.”

He couldn’t. What did that mean? 

“I think of him all the time,” she whispered. “I’ve thought of him a lot these past moons.” A lot was an understatement. It was safe to say her mind was clouded with thoughts. More so than ever which was incredible given how her mother once said her imagination rivaled the leaders of Old Valyria. 

An exaggeration to be sure, but Laena had been fourteen and preened under the compliment. 

“I did too,” Daemon said, unaware of her inner turmoil. 

He was clued in rather quickly when her face began to crumble. “And I will never see him again,” she weeped. 

Laena felt Daemon wrap his arms around her. In her moment of weakness, she let him. 

“Everything will be alright,” he whispered into her curls.

He couldn’t possibly know that. 

Her cheek pressed against his chest as she tried to dry her eyes. “Wherever our boy is, I must believe that he is being looked after. Watched over by those before us,” she whispered. 

“I’m sure he is…”

Laena separated from him, only enough so that his arms weren’t encircling her anymore. 

He tried to reach out, but she put a stop to it by grabbing his hands.

She shook her head. “What is it that you want, Daemon?”

⇄

She was patient in her questioning. Her eyes searched his as if some answer was hidden there.

Rhaenyra had asked him that once.

So had Viserys. 

‘

Daemon wanted Laena. He was certain of that. She was his wife, his companion for ten years, and no matter what she may say, he never wanted to be without her. 

Not even her stubbornness could sway him away.

The words he thought of, never left his lips. “I don’t know.” 

For the first time, Laena looked like she believed him. 

It made him feel awful. 

She didn’t say a word to him in answer. She only went back to her desk and towered over it with her back facing him. 

“If you had lived, none of this would have happened…” The flip of the page was the only noise she made. “The Hightowers never would’ve dared usurp the throne.”

He went to speak again, before Laena beat him to it. “They would have dared,” she countered. “You know that. It didn’t matter if I had Vhagar.” 

“Then they would have died quicker,” Daemon drawled. “And they won’t get the chance again.”

She sighed, the palm of her hand planted against the book page. “If you think another war will happen, I won’t be a part of it.” He gave her an odd look. “Neither will my children. We’d travel far away and perhaps never come to Westeros again.” 

“...You’d let the Hightowers take the throne?”

She looked over at him in amused disbelief. “I wouldn’t be letting them do anything. Why would I fight for a throne that won’t even become mine? I won’t subject my daughters to that grief again. And I couldn’t hurt Vhagar like that.” 

“She is a dragon of war, Laena.”

“Not to me,” she stated, with no room for discussion in that argument. 

She and Vhagar had always been close. Laena would gush about her any chance she had.

Daemon hadn’t found the appeal. Not even when the she-dragon was his father’s claimant. 

“Rhaenyra is the rightful heir. It is her birthright.” The weirwood had shown him the truth. His dead brother had given him direction. 

She let out a glaringly fake laugh. “What can I ever believe when it comes to you, Daemon? You said so yourself that Rhaenyra could never succeed simply because she was a woman. You planned to take the throne from her whilst you were moping at Harrenhal!” Her hand flicked out, gesturing at him angrily. “Just how you helped your brother take the throne from my mother!”

His thumb scratched at his brow. “You bring up what happened from ages ago! And if you’ve seen all, won’t you know that I knelt to her? You pick and choose what pleases you. I swore my fealty!”

“Conveniently, yes,” she snarked. 

“It was a lapse in judgment!” Daemon gritted out. 

“Can you ever admit your wrongs, Daemon? It seems to always be a ‘mistake’ with you.” It was clear that she didn’t actually want him to answer because she was quick to go on. “Birthright has never stopped the men in this world from taking it away.” 

“Are you done?” 

She muttered something under her breath that he couldn’t quite catch. “No, I’m not.” Her purple eyes almost looked blue in this light. “You had blamed my mother for the death of Lucerys because she didn’t burn them alive when she escaped.. But then you went off and killed an innocent little boy to avenge him.” He had hoped to never have to think of little Jaehaerys ever again. “Tell me, how does that make you any different from Aemond?”

His face dropped. 

His fingers twitched.

“Oh… you don’t like that comparison very much, do you?” Laena taunted. It was dangerous, but Daemon knew how unafraid Laena was to belittle him. 

“You didn’t even know the boy,” he hissed lowly. “Why would you even care?”

“Knowing him matters not. He was an innocent as Lucerys was.” She looked him up and down in contempt. “You should’ve been clearer in your demands.” 

“As if you would have done any better.”

“I would. I wouldn’t have sent a fucking assassin in the middle of the night. I can still remember the sound of the knife sawing into his throat.”

“Enough!” He turned away in revulsion. “I never meant… It was a mistake.”

“There you go again. A mistake.” He looked down, unwilling to look into her accusatory eyes. “All you do is lie, Daemon. You lie to me, you lie to Rhaenyra, you lie to your brother. Is anything about you real?” Laena leaned in so closely, her lips were close to touching his ear. “Did you blame everyone else for what happened because you couldn’t blame yourself? Because no matter who was there, or what they could have done, you will always blame yourself most of all.” 

⇄

She and Daemon would have to share that feeling in common. 

“I should have… I should have been there,” he said. 

Laena looked at him, trying to read his features. She would crawl inside him just to get the damn answer. 

Daemon’s purple eyes met hers again. “If I were there, I could have stopped you. I could have saved you. If you think I did not blame myself for what happened, then you would be wrong. I blamed myself every day, Laena.” She didn’t look away from him, no matter how much her mind screamed at her to. “You had once spoken of your own punishment, but mine… mine was being quick enough to watch you die, and not have been able to do a thing to stop you. That was my punishment and I had lived with it for the rest of my life.” 

If he thought she would be moved, he was mistaken. 

She was made of steel. Unbending. Unyielding. 

She would not let him fool her. 

“I don’t trust you, Daemon…”

He looked away. Again. He looked down. Again.

Her nostrils flared in anger. 

⇄

Those words. Everyone he had ever loved seemed to say them. 

It was certainly not the first time Laena had said it. But it was said softer presently.

At least she offered him that mercy. 

“...I haven’t trusted you in a long time.” He took notice of the way she held herself. With her arms wrapped around her middle. “When we married, I had to trust you. You and my father both agreed to it, so then I did too. It never changed how trapped I felt, and it never mattered. After we conceived Baela... It became easy to fall in love with you.” His eyes softened as hers did. “I had thought to myself, ‘this was the man everyone feared? The man who was known as cruel and calculating?..’” She scoffed. “‘He wasn’t with me. He was sweet and kind. He looked at me as if I was everything to him.’ You had given me two daughters whom I loved more than anything… But then you slipped into bed with another and waved it off when I came across it. All with no consideration for me… I don’t know if you truly love me as you say, or if you only came to that realization after my passing, I do not know… I don’t know what I’m supposed to think anymore with you.” 

“I have hurt you,” he said. 

Laena did not mock him for the obvious. 

“You have hurt me. And you always will,” she divulged. “The man I married was kind and caring. But the man I died with… he was not.” 

He wanted to deny it. He wanted to look into her eyes and profess every detail of how he felt.

But he was a coward when it came to her. 

So he nodded. His eyes strayed to the ceiling to quell the burning sensation building there.

A sudden knock at the door pulled her from him. 

He blinked the feeling away.

She jumped back as if they were two children caught doing something unfitting. 

Daemon couldn’t help but huff at the interruption. 

“Apologies for disrupting you,” the woman said, eyeing him warily. “Princess Rhaenys has asked for you and Prince Daemon to join her and Lord Corlys for dinner, My Lady.”

“Right,” Laena cleared her throat, “thank you, Gladys.”

The woman, Gladys, bowed her head before she left.

“Does Rhaenys often send for you like that?” He asked unconsciously. 

“Mother has been very adamant that I attend every dinner,” Laena said plainly. “She tries very hard to work herself into my good graces. Baela and Rhaena are probably waiting for us.”

She propelled forward, but Daemon rushed to grab her arm. She turned to face him, seconds from ripping herself away. 

He let go before she had the chance. 

“I would like to continue our conversation after.”

“I promised Baela and Rhaena a ride on Vhagar, Daemon.”

“I won’t take up too much of your time,” he promised.

“Sure, Daemon. Whatever you say.” 

He watched her as she left. It was a great view. 

Corlys sat at the head of the table with Daemon on the other. Rhaenys fit herself astray from her husband and directly next to her eldest granddaughter. All while Baela and Rhaena sat on either side of their mother, tucked in so close that Daemon wondered if they could breathe properly.

He learned some new quirks when it came to his wife.

Corlys wasn’t lying when he said Laena was acting haughty with him.

Every time the man tried to speak to his daughter, Laena would greet him with short answers or silence. 

If Baela and Rhaena noticed, they were unbothered by it. They happily munched on the food Laena put on their plates.

Daemon had become all too familiar with Laena’s tranquility. 

Her caution, however, had only grown whilst he was away. 

Every time his hand reached in Rhaena’s direction, his wife would eye him with suspicion. 

“So, daughter… How was your afternoon in Spicetown?” Corlys asked. 

“Well, father,” she answered primly. Daemon brought his finger to his mouth to cover his smile. “I had met an interesting young girl at one of the bazaars. She couldn’t have been much older than Baela.”

“Oh?”

“She told me that her mother died… I’m not sure if she had a home to go back to.” 

“That is unfortunate,” Rhaenys sympathized. 

“Yes,” his wife agreed. “So I wondered… Perhaps she could be fostered here.”

Dead silence settled over the room. 

Daemon paused with his fork halfway up to his mouth. 

“What?” Baela asked, dragging it out. 

Laena placed her hand on her curls as if to settle her. “It would be nice to have another girl around. You two deserve to have more friends, darling.”

“Do you expect to foster every homeless child you see, Laena?” Rhaenys asked, though not unkindly. 

“It’s not like we don’t have the room in the castle,” Laena pointed out. 

Daemon huffed out a laugh, earning him a glare from his wife.

“I truly don’t see the problem,” she continued. 

Corlys looked at his wife, then his daughter. He leaned forward in his seat, giving her his full attention. “If this girl is willing, we would be glad to have her.”

It looked like Rhaenys wasn’t the only one trying to get in Laena’s good graces.

Laena looked satisfied with his answer, smiling shortly.

“Thank you, father.”

Daemon wanted to crawl inside that pretty head of hers.

She was trying her best to ignore him, holding up her chin high, never offering him a glance.

He disliked being ignored. Something Laena knew well.

He stared for so long that she eventually relented. She lifted her brows, silently asking what do you want? 

⇄

She couldn’t even get a moment's peace. 

His heavy steps followed her as she went off to her quarters. 

She was forced to put her daughters under her mother’s care, though Rhaenys was more than glad to spend time with them. 

When they arrived, she asked abruptly, “do you want to know what happened, Daemon?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “After the battle,” she exaggerated the word, “between you and Aemond, Rhaenyra died at the hands of Aegon and his dragon.” 

Daemon, to his credit, looked like his heart was ripped out of his throat. 

“Both of your sons lived, despite the triarchy. My daughters thankfully survived too, but Baela had received burns from Aegon and Sunfyre when she took to the skies against him.” 

“She did?” He asked. 

Laena hummed. “She is a brave girl. As is Rhaena.” Claiming a wild dragon, there was nothing braver than that.

“Aye,” pride in his voice. “Like their mother.”

She nodded – short, jerking motions of her head. 

His voice was like a buzzing in her ear. 

It was hard to let her anger go. To let herself accept his praise without a rebuttal. 

She loved him and hated him in the same breath.

“Alys had shown you what was to come before you left Harrenhal.” 

A small smile graced his lips. “You know of Alys?.. Of course you do.”

“She only gave you a glance of it all, Daemon. After Rhaenyra, Aegon ll was only king for half a year more before he was poisoned. Then, your son Aegon became king.” His eyebrows raised, though he didn’t seem too surprised. “You wanted to save your dynasty, you thought you could stop what was,” she said patronizingly, close to his face. “But in the end, what did you save, Daemon? Nothing... The dragons died. The Targaryen’s fell.” It wasn’t his fault, she knew that, but Daemon looked guilty all the same. A part of her wondered if the dragons dying was bound to happen regardless. 

“My sweet Rhaena was left the last dragon rider, but her dragon died mysteriously one day. Not even I know why, nor do I understand it.” Rhaena’s dragon was wild, true, but healthy and young. 

Laena wondered if the Citadel, perhaps even the Hightowers, were behind it. 

Her daughter had loved her Hightower husband, but if he were behind it, no amount of love would have stopped Rhaena from taking revenge. 

Her eyes danced between his. “I had watched you… when you stuck your sword in Aemond Targaryen’s eye. I saw it,” she whispered perceptively. “And I saw you die.. Falling.” 

There was a tear building up on his eyeline. If Laena were not right in front of him, she wouldn’t have believed it. 

She could hardly believe it now. 

“You… him… all died for nothing,” Laena declared pitilessly. 

A moment of weakness, or perhaps curiosity, made her hand reach up to touch his face. Her fingers traced the smile lines that managed to solidify there. 

Perhaps frown lines were better words.

“Does this satisfy you?” He answered in kind. “Gutting me?”

He was exaggerative. She knew that.

Laena tapped his cheek before she dropped her hand. “After the war, I watched on as the Targaryens ruled for over a hundred years more. Their rule ended the day Robert Baratheon killed Rhaegar Targaryen on the Trident. Everything fell apart after that. Then it was the Baratheons who sat the throne.” His smile was sharp in response. Even a bit smug, like he was wounded but wouldn’t admit it. “It hurts you to know your family lost the throne, doesn’t it?” 

This time, she wasn’t asking out of malice. 

He didn’t seem to grasp that. “It’s your family too, Laena,” he said snidely. 

She jerked her head side to side as if she were thinking about it. “Not directly.” Daemon nodded, huffing out a laugh, as if anything she said was funny. “But… as you somewhat know, not all the Targaryens perished. Two were left behind. A brother and a sister. The brother of the two was actually your own brother’s namesake, isn’t that funny?” She asked sarcastically. Her former husband smiled, hearing it loud and clear. “Now, Viserys was rotten, but his sister, Daenerys – she was perhaps one of the only good things your line brought about. She was the one who brought back the dragons.” 

“I remember,” Daemon said.

“Hm. She lost two of them trying to save everyone and while winning her throne. Nobody seemed to care much about any of that when they stabbed her in the heart.”

“Why are you saying this to me, Laena?”

“You wanted to know, did you not?” Daemon scratched at his brow, an odd tick of his. She shook her head. “All for a damn throne made of swords. What did it matter? We all died anyway.”

Perhaps the war would be avoided this time. Perhaps the dragons would live. She hoped so, but she couldn’t know.

All that Laena knew to be certain was that she would live this time. She wanted to be with her children, and one day, her grandchildren. All of them were a huge part of her in both life and death.

“Why are you smiling?” He asked. He sounded tired. 

She stared at him. “I had wanted you to be happy, Daemon.” His brows furrowed. “Before I commanded Vhagar… to do what she did… I had hoped for you to be happy. I may have disliked you, but I loved you still.” Admitting that, even if it was said from the past, was difficult. Even if he knew, she didn’t want to give him hope, or satisfaction. 

“I was happy.” His voice uncharacteristically soft. 

With her? With Rhaenyra? As per usual, she wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. “I wanted that for you,” she intoned. “To be happy for yourself, and for our children. So you could take care of them as a father should.”

“Laena, please-”

“You came here, Daemon.” She was left reeling. “You came to Driftmark. What did you think would happen?”

“You invited me here!” Daemon roared.

“Six moons ago, and the gods know it was out of pity!”

“Pity,” he echoed. 

Laena hated how her lip wobbled as she looked at him. “Our daughters resented you. You were never there.” The way he approached made her hackles rise. “They… they even liked Rhaenyra more than you.” 

She didn’t realize it until it was too late, but when his thumb and index finger pressed into her cheeks, she felt her body freeze. 

His palm touched the bottom of her chin. It was a cold sensation. 

It wasn’t a hard grip. It wouldn’t bruise. If anything, the hold was weak. At any other moment, it could even be seen as an endearing gesture.

But it only scared her now. Her fear spread down to her toes.

“You want to keep running your mouth?” He spoke lowly. 

His words snapped her out of it. 

She easily ripped herself from his grip on her face, then pushed him back. 

She stared up at him with defiance. 

He turned away. 

“Get out,” she spoke between her teeth. “Get out! Get out, Daemon!”

Laena was so loud, so furious, that she heard Vhagar match her from outside. 

Guards burst into her solar with their swords drawn. 

The first thing she thought was how dare they invade my privacy. The second was to put her arm over Daemon’s to get him to put down Dark Sister.

Such a volatile man. 

“My Lady!” One of the dark-haired men exclaimed. His eyes were on Daemon, but they slid towards her before he finished his formalities. “Are you alright? Do we need to escort the Prince-”

Daemon opened his mouth.

“No!” Laena said a bit too forcefully. “No, I’m fine! Thank you.” She felt Daemon’s eyes burn into the side of her head. 

She didn’t want them to intervene. Whether it was for their safety or for Daemon’s, she wasn’t quite sure. 

They only became more hesitant when Vhagar roared once more. But Laena stayed in her resolve. Her eyes burned through their armor and her voice was sharp when they continued to test her patience. 

When they left with the door clicking behind them, Laena zeroed in on the father of her children. 

But of course, now he couldn’t deem to meet her eyes. 

“You… will never touch me again,” she warned. Her words were concise and clear, even in her vexation. “Get. Out. Daemon.” 

He went. Tail between his legs. 

⇆

“-Never touch me again,” she heard her mother’s muffled voice come from her room.

When the door clicked open, Baela rushed to hide behind a corner. 

Her father stormed out, sword hand itching for action.

She stepped out of her spot once he disappeared down the hall. 

Perhaps she heard too much. 

Listening to her mother cry once she was alone was worse.

She didn’t have enough time to hide again before it was her mother’s turn to leave and march away. 

Baela was lucky she went in the opposite direction. 

⇄

It was easy to find Rhaenys, despite the vastness of the castle. Her mother sat before the fireplace in the dining hall. 

Her braided, silver head turned in her direction.

The tear tracks that stained her cheeks must have been easy to spot. Her mother’s calm expression was instantaneously wiped away, and she was quick to stand at attention.

Her warm hands took a hold of her face. It took everything in Laena to keep herself from flinching away. 

“What happened?” Her mother asked.

She felt sick. “Daemon,” was all she could say.

It had an instant effect on her mother. “What did that wretched man do now? Did he hurt you?” 

Rhaenys assessed her, checking for bruises or cuts. Laena nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all.

“He didn’t do anything,” Laena exclaimed. “He just frightened me.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll kill him.”

This time, Laena did laugh. She felt like she was losing her mind. “You can’t kill him, mother.”

“Laena, my darling…” Her mother tucked back a loose curl that fell over her face.

“Please. Leave it alone.” She shook her head, rolling her eyes. “He grabbed me; my face, It frightened me. That is all.”

“He put his hands on you?” Rhaenys questioned incredibly. 

“It wasn’t like that,” she weakly argued. 

Daemon had never hit her. Never put his hands on her throat as he did to Rhaenyra. He was rough at times, but he never touched her when they fought. 

She didn’t know what to make of his current action. 

“What do you want me to do, darling?”

Laena sniffled, overtaken by emotion. “I don’t know. I cannot banish him from the castle. Baela and Rhaena want him here,” she said tearfully. “I cannot tell him to leave after he’s shown his face to them.” Her eyes couldn’t focus on one thing as they danced about. She looked everywhere but at her mother. “I fear that this sadness is embedded in me. I can feel it crawling inside… it is consuming me.” She tried to stifle her sobs, but to no avail.  “What am I supposed to do?” 

Her mother pulled her into her arms. It took her by surprise, her arms hung in the air, inches from touching her mother’s back.

“We will find a solution, sweetling,” Rhaenys whispered.

Laena laid her chin over her mother’s shoulder, then closed the gap, wrapping her arms around her.

She cried until she couldn’t breathe. If she couldn’t cry to her mother, who could she cry to? 

⇆

Baela was quick to run to the library where her sister often camped out. 

“Where’s Elise?” She asked. 

Rhaena looked up, unbothered by the sudden presence, and the panting. “Using the chamber pot. She’ll be back.” 

Baela sat down beside her and took the book from her little sister’s hands.

“I was reading that!” Rhaena hissed.

“What I’m about to tell you is important, Rhaena.”

Her sister looked less than enthused. “More important than reading? I doubt that. You hardly have anything to offer,” harsh words but said with no malice. 

A smile crept up on Baela’s face before it disappeared again, remembering what she came here for. 

“I’m joking, Baela.”

“I know,” she assured, “it’s not that. It’s… It’s mother and father.”

“Fighting again?” She asked.

“Well, yes, but I think… I think father hit her.”

“What?” The look of anguish and uncertainty must have been showing on Baela’s face because her sister quickly mirrored her. “How can you say that? Did you see it?” 

She shook her head, insistent. “No. No, I just- I heard mother telling him to never touch her again.”

Her sister went back to looking disappointed. “That could mean anything, Baela.”

“But father looked really angry, and mother was crying!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. I kind of wish he never came, for mother’s sake.”

“You were happy he came.”

“So were you,” Rhaena said intendedly. “And I am, but I love mother. She deserves to be happy. Father doesn’t make her happy.”

“That isn’t true. They love each other.” 

Rhaena rolled her eyes. “I’m not denying that. All I know is that since Thalia left, she hasn’t been the same.” 

She thought her sister was being a bit dramatic.

“You remember Thalia?” She asked. 

The woman was always nice to them. She would sometimes sneak them sweets from the kitchens. Baela really enjoyed that aspect of her. Her mother was certainly fond of the Pentoshi woman as well. 

They were good friends. 

“Of course I do. I was six, not an idiot.”

Baela smirked, but it quickly faded. “Well, what are we supposed to do?

“About what, Baela?” 

She felt like scoffing. “Muña and Kepa!”

“What can we do? He’s already here! Mama is a strong woman, she wouldn’t let father hurt her.”

“Are you sure you’re not the elder?” Baela teased. 

That earned her a reluctant smile.

Her sister was formal and measured on the best of days. She liked to make her smile. 

“Baela! Rhaena!” Baela twisted her body to face the voice. She was surprised to hear her mother, especially when she sounded so cheery. She was less surprised, however, to see Elise with her. 

“Mama!” Rhaena lept from her chair and rushed over to hug her. 

Baela was quick to join them. Laena pressed her into her side and ruffled her newly-minted curls. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come fetch you.” Baela leered over at her sister knowingly. “Your father kept me occupied.” 

“It’s alright, mama. I was reading anyway,” Rhaena shrugged.

“Is that so? What did you read?”

“More about the conquerors,” she smiled sharply. “I like Rhaenys the best.”

“You always say that,” Baela groaned dramatically. 

Her mother’s smile was infectious. She always looked her best when she was smiling.

“There’s nothing wrong with your sister’s taste. I’ve always liked Rhaenys. Your grandmother was named after her.”

“But we’re related to her too, right muña?” Rhaena asked.

“Yes, my love.” 

“Can we please go flying now?” Baela groused. If she wanted to speak of relatives at this time she would have joined in on Rhaena’s extracurriculars.

She was like her mother in that way – always wanting to be in the skies. 

“Well it does look like you’re ready,” Laena teased. “Did you two dress in your riding clothes straight after dinner?”

Rhaena looked over at her with a grin. “You did promise.”

Their mother hummed, lightly tugging on Rhaena’s locks. 

“Are you coming with us, My Lady?” Baela looked up at the figure by her mother’s side.

Elise offered her a kind smile. “I shouldn’t, dear. Once was enough for me, I think.” 

Baela shrugged. “Your loss.”

Laena’s brows furrowed. “Baela!” 

Baela blushed.

“It’s alright, My Lady,” Elise chuckled. “I’m afraid dragon riding isn’t to my taste.”

“Well my daughter shouldn’t speak to you in that way. I apologize for her insolence.”

Her embarrassment was replaced by irritation as she pouted. She was hardly being insolent.  

Elise was smiling, surely Baela couldn’t have hurt her feelings.

Her mother nudged her out of the room before she could ‘make it worse.’ Whatever that meant.

“We won’t be too long, sweetlings. Only a quick circle around the city. It’s getting late and I want you both to rest after such an eventful day.”

“It wasn’t eventful for us,” Baela murmured.

Laena tutted. “Your father came, surely that was eventful for you and your sister, Baela.”

“He spent most of his time speaking with you.” But Baela wasn’t too upset over it now. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to feel about her father anymore.

If he had hurt her mother, could she forgive him for that? 

“I’m sorry,” her mother surprised her by apologizing yet again. “I didn’t mean to have so much of my time taken by your father. That was my fault,” her eyes strayed down to Rhaena who was clutched to her waist.

Baela wanted her mother to love her father. She wanted her mother to be happy with him, but perhaps she was wrong. Her mother loved her and Rhaena, perhaps that was all she needed. 

Baela would be fine with that too. She wasn’t ashamed to say that she liked being the center of her mother’s attention.

She only wished it could be like this all the time. The three of them together. 

“It’s alright, muña. Father will gain sense eventually.”

Her mother barked out a laugh, delighted by her eldest’s words. “Do you think?”

Rhaena giggled. 

Baela’s eyes strayed away from them to look over at Moondancer who was in the midst of digging a hole in the sand. The sight caused a bigger, blooming smile to take over her face. Her claimant was a curious creature. 

“Stay behind me, girls,” her mother’s voice interrupted. 

Baela snapped her head over, and felt her heart thrum with excitement as Vhagar lifted her head. 

She would never grow tired of it. She counted down the days till Moondancer was big enough for her to ride. 

“Rytsas, Vhagar,” Laena cooed. “Down.” 

Baela gazed on as Vhagar flattened her wing to the ground like a pancake. How could anyone not be impressed simply by the sheer size of her? 

“Up you go!” Her mother lifted Rhaena under her arms first, allowing her to climb up the extremity, then Baela was quickly added. 

The leathery texture felt warm under her palms. 

She listened to her mother whisper soothing words to her mount all the way up until she reached the saddle. Vhagar purred like a kitten the entire time.

Laena made quick work of securing the two of them. 

She squeezed Baela’s shoulders in anticipation before her hand found Vhagar’s scales, patting her in kind. “Sōvēs, my queen!” 

Vhagar tumbled forward, pushing herself off of the ground in one fell swoop.

“Eglikta, Vhagar!” Rhaena shouted. 

Every worry left their heads.

The sound of their excitement raced against the wind.

⇄

Their bout of freedom was short-lived. 

Laena mourned it as soon as Vhagar hit the ground. 

She bade her beloved a good night and walked back inside the castle with her children hand in hand. 

Once she put them to bed, she traveled to her quarters.

As soon as she placed her hand against the door, his grating voice infiltrated her ears. “Laena.” She looked over her shoulder at him. Daemon stood at the end of the hall, and despite the distance, the look of regret on his face was clear. 

She didn’t say a word to him. 

“Sleep well,” he said. 

Laena nodded shortly, then pushed herself the rest of the way inside her room. 

Chapter Text

“What are you thinking about?”

Laena turned her eyes downward, hovering over the woman below her. 

Thalia smiled radiantly. 

Her eyes, both different in color – one green and one blue, sparkled as she opened them. 

“I’m just… thinking about how happy I am. Here with you.” 

Thalia’s smile grew. She leaned forward until her lips pressed into Laena’s own. Laena chased after her for more. 

“I’m happy with you too, lover,” she smirked. Then her finger trailed down her arm thoughtfully. A more considerate look swarmed her features. “What if we were to leave this place?” 

“Pentos?” Laena asked. 

“Yes. What if we left together?” 

She let out a small, confused laugh. “I could never leave Baela and Rhaena. They are my heart.” 

“Here I thought I was your heart,” Thalia said teasingly. “You are certainly mine.” Her tone turned more serious. “We would bring your sweet little daughters with us of course. I adore them. They remind me so much of you. How could I not?” 

Laena felt a blush rise to her cheeks. Her heart just about melted. It was a nice dream. “Where would we go?” 

Thalia shrugged. Her naked shoulder slipped out from beneath the white sheets. “Anywhere. Lys, Braavos, Qohor. Volantis? Perhaps Westeros, hm? To your home?” 

“You would go there?” 

“I would go wherever you are, darling.” 

Laena’s eyes danced between each of Thalia’s own. She found nothing but truth in them. “But you’ve never left the free cities before.” 

“Aye, but I would if it meant I was with you.” 

Her warm hand found Thalia’s cheek. “I love you.” 

“As I love you, my sweet lady.” 

Their lips slotted together. Slower, more passionately. Laena felt a hand grope at her naked breast. She smiled into the kiss. 

She went to move in closer.

The sound of the door opening barely caught her attention. “Thalia-” In the corner of her eye, she saw a slip of silver. 

She couldn’t cover herself fast enough before the unsheathing of steel greeted her ears. 

It was Daemon, perhaps even worse than being discovered by one of her daughters. 

She had never witnessed his face to be so red. Definitely worse. 

“Daemon!” She shouted, shielding Thalia with her body. 

Her lover kept a hold on her arm, whether to keep her close or pull her out of harm’s way, Laena wasn’t quite sure. 

However, Thalia was defensive of her on the best of days. 

“Move out of the way, Laena,” Daemon demanded lowly. 

He would kill Thalia. Of course he would. It was why she kept her affairs far from him. Thalia even more so. 

Gods forbid he knew she had fallen in love. His jealousy ran rabid. 

“I will not,” she defied. “You should go, Daemon.” 

“Laena,” Thalia whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. 

“I’m not moving,” Daemon said. “Move. Now.” 

“Sheath your sword, husband,” she spat. “You should not shed blood here. You may do what you wish with me, but leave her out of this.” Taking on a gentler approach, she said, “please.” 

“Laena, no,” Thalia urged, still just as quiet. 

Laena paid her no mind. 

Daemon sharply grinned. “Oh, I plan to. But do not think your little friend will go unpunished, Laena.” 

She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. Underneath it all he was still a scared little boy. 

But with Thalia, he wouldn’t hesitate. She felt something red hot brew inside of her. 

“You won’t put a hand on her,” she warned. “Sheath your fucking steel! Let us speak, the two of us.” 

Whether it was her tone or her eyes that were undoubtedly turned into slits, he finally listened. 

She didn’t take her attention from him until Dark Sister slid into his belt. 

Slowly, with her back still attached to Thalia’s front, they slipped from the bed.. A piece of hair brushed over her shoulder as she slightly turned her head. “Dress,” she said. “I’ll find you after. I promise.” 

Daemon made a noise. “I wouldn’t count on that.” 

Laena ignored him, as did Thalia, but a part of her nearly snapped at him. 

“I don’t want to leave you alone with him,” Thalia hissed in concern. Her eyes were wide in worry. 

Laena softened. 

“He won’t hurt me,” she whispered. 

“Laena-”

Daemon scoffed, then commanded, “get out! Before I change my mind and strike you down where you stand!” His loudness nearly made Laena flinch. 

Thalia was pulling on her dress, unconcerned with the portrayal of her naked state, before Daemon kept his threat. 

Laena, herself, made sure to keep the sheet wrapped around her person. She felt like a child being scolded by their parent. She disliked that. She had been so careful. Daemon was supposed to be out flying on Caraxes. 

Thalia’s hand slipped into her own to give it a squeeze. 

It was reassuring, but that didn’t stop Laena from shielding her until they reached the door. (Luckily their shared quarters were equipped with two). 

The door opened with a soft creak and closed with a click. 

“How long has this little affair been happening for?” Daemon’s voice broke through the air. When she turned to see him, he tilted his head inquiringly. “Hm? How long have you been sneaking that whore into our bed, Laena?” 

She bristled at his raised voice. “Do not shout at me!” Yet she answered in kind. “And Thalia is not a whore, how dare you! She works as a server under Prince Reggio which is something you must be well aware of considering you go about fucking as many of them as you please!”

“That’s absurd and plain untrue! Do not go and turn this little spectacle around on me.” 

“But everything is about you, isn’t it?” She countered. Her face scrunched up in displeasure, but then she let herself relax when he didn’t open his mouth. “Gods, I love you, Daemon. I do, but you are not faithful to me. I wanted to find some sort of happiness on my own instead of feeling sad about it. And I never wanted to depend on you or any husband for that matter!” 

“So is that what this is? Finding your happiness?” He seemed more defeated than angry.  

“It’s not just happiness… it’s- I-” 

“You ‘what’?”

She let out a soft breath. I love her, she thought. But she couldn’t say that aloud. Not to him. 

“It doesn’t matter, Daemon.” 

“Of course it matters!” 

“You have no business in what I do with Thalia.”

“I am your husband, Laena! You should not be with some common lout,” he said incredulously, “you should only be with me!” 

He was territorial. He always had been, but she couldn’t help how it elicited her anger. “Do not speak about her that way, Daemon!” 

“I don’t wish to share you. You are my wife. You belong to me.” 

When she was younger, after the birth of Baela, she might have enjoyed hearing that. All it did now was fill her with repulsion. He insulted her lover and wanted to forbid her from everyone but him. She was already suffocated enough by his provisions. 

“I want her. She treats me well.” Laena placed a hand against her chest. “She loves me.” 

“She loves you,” he echoed. His face was devoid of emotion. “Do you love her?”

Laena’s leg slipped back on the bed. Her eyes flickered up at him. 

She didn’t want to hurt him, but she didn’t want to deny it either. 

She decided to say nothing at all. 

Laena always ran warm, but now as she was on the cusp of consciousness, she felt like a furnace. 

When she opened her eyes, she was unable to ignore the arms that were wrapped around her waist. 

For a short moment Laena wanted to bask in the warmth. 

That moment deflated once reality hit her square in the face. 

Only Daemon, or Thalia, would be brazen enough to hold her in such a way. Thalia hadn’t been in her life in many years. 

Bit by bit her body began to recoil. 

She thrashed from his grip, uncaring if it awoke him. 

“What are you doing?!” She hissed through her teeth. 

Perhaps she was being a bit dramatic as she tried to shake the feeling from her body. She used to find comfort in his touch, but now… she couldn’t quite say how it felt, only that it wasn’t particularly good. 

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, still lounging halfway on his back and halfway on his side, Daemon asked, “can a man not sleep with his wife?” 

She disliked that title coming from his mouth. “I am not your wife, Daemon.” 

The look he gave her, she could only describe as disgruntled. “Yet you are. The King could always grant us an annulment but he never allowed it when it came to me and my Bronze Bitch, so I am afraid you are stuck with me.” 

“Unless I kill you,” she said, straight-faced. She crossed her arms, covering her thinly clothed chest. 

It wiped the smug look from his face, leaving one of consideration. “There is that.” 

“You shouldn’t have come in here. You have your own quarters, my mother and father both saw to that.” 

“I could not sleep. I always slept better with you by my side.” 

Laena hummed disapprovingly. “You should put on a tunic.” She found no appreciation for his bare chest. 

“Come now, Laena,” he said, exhausted.

She snickered, turning towards the vanity. “You never listen, do you? I have made it more than clear how I wish not to see you.”

“Well I wish to see you, ” he countered. 

“It doesn’t matter what you want, Daemon. I left Pentos to rid myself of this. Of you.”

“I thought it was because you wanted to be home. Did you not invite me to join you?”

Laena ducked her head, closing her eyes. “It was best, in the end, that you did not.” 

“Best for whom? You? Our daughters?” He questioned. 

“Aye. For us. We lived well for the time you were absent.” 

“They had written to me every moon-”

“And how many did you precisely read?” 

He went silent for a moment. “Not all of them.”

She huffed out an amused breath. “Of course not.”

“But it was most of them,” he said insistently. “They wanted me to come here. It wasn’t until I received your letter that I felt I could.” Laena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “You may think what you please, but you are my wife.”

“You have no right calling me that after you put your hands on me.” She met his eyes in the mirror. 

Daemon leaned back with a scoff. “I hardly touched you.” 

Her eyes narrowed into slits. Her lip curled, close to snapping at him.

“I…” he sighed. “It was a mistake.” 

A common phrase. “I don’t care,” she dragged out. She supposed that was a common phrase as well, when it came from her. 

“You’re acting like a child,” he drawled in return. 

She turned her head to look at him head-on. “So you have said.” He continued to lay on the bed, half-naked, half-uncovered by the sheets. “Won’t you simply admit that the only reason you have come to Driftmark, to my bed, is due to the fact that I didn’t stay and listen to you?” 

“That is non-”

“You were just angry that you couldn’t control me anymore!” Laena stated lowly, but no less sharp. Daemon stared back at her, his eyes widened a fraction before they returned to their natural state. She took in rushed breaths, looking away from him as she shook her head. “When I look at your face, I can only remember how you took my life.” 

“Took your life?” His voice darkened. 

She scoffed. “Do not act the fool, Daemon. You know it is true.” 

Daemon avoided her eyes. She watched as he slipped off the bed to pick up his discarded tunic and tug it over his head. 

For a hopeful moment she thought he would leave, but he only opted to sit in the chair that sat in the far corner of the room. 

“I have hurt you,” he said. Despite the brief quiet, it felt all too sudden. 

She swallowed, blinking rapidly. “You have.” There was no point in making fun of the obvious. 

It was quite funny, however. Since he arrived, all they seemed to do was talk. She couldn’t avoid what was bound to occur yet again. 

Granted, she did most of it. 

“I love you, Laena,” he expressed. 

Slowly, her body faced his. She could feel the bafflement that settled across her face. “You are mad,” she whispered. He must be, to never tire from his games.

“So be it. I’ll be mad if that is what you want of me.” 

Laena stared at him. A smile began to creep onto her face. 

“I’m serious,” he went on. 

“I’m sure you are,” she chuffed. “Yet your meaningless words change nothing.” 

“I wouldn’t say they are meaningless,” he quipped. 

Laena knew he would do something like that. He was beyond predictable. She was close to burying her face into her hands from exhaustion. She couldn’t stand his very being. “They are. It doesn’t matter how much you say you love me or care for me. It doesn’t matter if it is true or not. Daemon, I won’t be fooled.” 

“You say that, but what would you be fooled with exactly?” 

“You. What else?” She scrunched her face up in indignation. “I wanted to believe you, Daemon. In Pentos. When you said you would be better for us. But I learned long ago that you can’t. It isn’t in your nature. I had loved who you were after we married. Even with your bursts of anger, but I grew tired of your bereavement. It was your need for control that truly suffocated me. You disliked not being able to control me, so you tried even harder.” 

“That is what you think?” 

“Once more, it is what I know.” 

“I worried for you, Laena.” She rolled her jaw in irritation. “I suppose I worried for myself in turn. You captivated me from the day of your brother’s wedding.”

“Did I?” She asked rhetorically. “I remember you being rather preoccupied.” If he wished to bring it up then she would gladly correct him. 

He let a small smile peek through. “But the day I saw you on Driftmark and you suggested I take care of your disastrous betrothed, I was keen on the idea of making you my wife.” Laena rested her chin over her palm, leaning forward as she listened. “Laena… you never disappointed me. I was the one who often disappointed you. I disliked that.” 

She hummed. “As did I.” 

“Despite my mistakes, you and our daughters made a man of me,” he said. 

Laena snorted. “A man of you? No. You are still the same.” 

Laena walked into the lounge room of the castle. 

She held back the compulsion to gag when she took notice of her drunkard of a betrothed. Maris was fully invested in the cup of ale that was clutched in his grip. He never once took notice of her which was surprising given how much he tended to salivate over her. 

She scanned the room and found Daemon sitting comfortably in the very corner. He leaned back in a fluffy maroon chair. She purposefully avoided Maris to approach him. 

“I, for one,” she began, “would like to see that fool of a man discarded of.” Her eyes set on Maris before she glanced at Daemon by her side. His violet eyes smirked in interest. 

He put down his chalice. “How do you propose to do that, My Lady?” 

Laena held his gaze, but let her eyes subtly flicker to Dark Sister resting on his hip. 

His eyebrows raised. “Oh, so you wish for me to do your dirty work?” 

She smiled coyly. “Would you?” 

“Now? I find that quite precarious.” 

She nearly groaned from his feigned aloofness. He could not truly be so dull. “Of course not. It must be more thought out than that.” 

She looked back at Maris who was busy stuffing another cup of wine down his gullet. Perhaps his tenth of the day. 

“If you want the fool dead so badly, why not do it yourself? Vhagar is your mount; feed him to her. I doubt she’d protest.” 

She scoffed. It would be cruel of her to subject Vhagar to eating that wretched man. Besides… “He won’t go near her.” Daemon sharply grinned. “My girl can hardly hold her temper when it comes to Maris anyhow.” 

“He stinks,” Daemon commented, following her eyesight. 

“Aye. Like piss and ale.” 

He chuckled at her vulgarity. “Is that the reason you wish to discard of him, My Lady?” 

“He cannot keep his filthy hands to himself and he holds no respect for me. I’d rather not marry a man who cares not for me.” She sighed. “It’s not like I’m my father’s heir. I have no need to marry.” 

When she looked back at him, his head was tilted to the side as if he were assessing her. “What will you do for me in return?” 

Something thrummed in her. Excitement as he seemed to consider her proposition. Then an odd sense of dread. “What will I do for you?” She repeated. “What do you mean exactly?” 

“Nothing untoward, I assure you.”

“Then is my mere company not compensation enough?” Laena let herself smile to disperse the tension rising in her belly. 

Daemon looked thoughtful, but Laena couldn’t help her suspicion. “Give me your hand.” She was right to be suspicious. 

“What?” Her mouth fell agape, her eyebrows creased in disbelief. 

Daemon was much less befuddled. “I’ll take care of Maris… if you wed me.” 

She shook her head. This was a dream, she must be dreaming, that was the only explanation she could find. 

“You lost your lady wife a moon ago,” she stated dumbly. 

“I remember, and her death was nothing but a relief.”

That made her feel worse. “What about Rhaenyra?” 

He offered her a disgruntled look. “If you don’t recall, she married your brother.” 

She scoffed. “Do not speak to me like I’m some lackwit, My Prince. It is not like my brother and Rhaenyra were a love match. I’m no fool to not notice the way you looked at her.” 

“And how did I look at her?” He asked. 

Laena felt no jealousy. She had only recently reconnected with Rhaenyra after she wed Laenor. They left High Tide quite quickly after the arrival of Maris, not that she could blame them. 

She felt something for Rhaenyra and she was certain her cousin felt the same, but she couldn’t dwell over it. 

As for Daemon, she hardly knew him. 

He was comely in an odd way, and charming. Fierce to which she enjoyed. 

None of that meant she wished for the Rogue Prince to be her husband. 

“Like you wanted her all to yourself,” she shrugged. “It is not a difficult look to decipher. And I am not my cousin, Daemon.” 

A tiny smile crept onto his face. She was close to narrowing her eyes in distrust. “No. You are not.” His eyes roamed her body. “My brother was a fool to pass you over.” 

Laena sniffed. “I wasn’t hurt by it. It was my father who was.” 

“Of that I know… but I assure you, I am not my brother.” She wasn’t sure if she should take that as good or bad. “I would like you as my wife.” 

Her face never betrayed her words. “It is not what I want.” 

“So then you would rather marry Maris?” 

“No! I want no husband.” Laena stood up, perhaps too fast given the dizzy feeling that stunned her for a moment, and dashed toward the double set doors. 

Her dignity might be ruined, but at least she didn’t need to look at either of them anymore. 

“At least think about it?” Daemon shouted after her.

Turns out, she never needed to think about it at all. 

Within less than a fortnight Maris was dead.

Daemon insulted him so viciously that he challenged him to a duel. 

Laena was left unsurprised when Daemon came out victorious. 

She didn’t mourn for Maris, far from it. She hadn’t spoken to Daemon of betrothal since that awkward day, so when he rid her of Maris she held the naivety that he did it out of kindness, or mutual dislike. 

If only she could go back and never speak to him of Maris. 

Perhaps she would never be in her current predicament. 

It was a nice thought, but she was sure her father would have found a way regardless of her meddling. 

When Daemon approached her as she stood on the beach, watching Vhagar hunt in the water, she forced herself to stay rooted. She was no coward. 

“I’ve come to ask for your hand.” 

His confidence was nauseating, 

She looked over at him, smiling incredibly. “Have we not discussed this, My Prince? I thank you for Maris, however-” 

“Your father has agreed to the match.” 

Her heart dropped to her stomach. 

Of course he would. She knew that would be so. 

“I, too, have agreed to it,” he continued, seemingly unaware of her inner turmoil. More likely, he cared not. “Now it leaves you.” 

What other choice did she have then? 

What woman had a choice when it came to the wishes of their parents? 

She fixed her smile, letting it crease the edges of her eyes. “Well, that settles that then.” 

Perhaps she wasn’t as good at putting on a facade as she hoped. Daemon grabbed her hand loosely. “I want you, Laena. I enjoy your company.” 

She nodded, but it was difficult to believe him. How could she trust him? 

“We hardly know each other.” 

He brushed her concern off with ease. “That hardly mattered in any other marriage pact made between two families.” 

It mattered to her. “I do not wish to marry, Daemon.” 

“I have taken care of your imbecilic betrothed. You know as well as I that Corlys would soon find you another man to wed.” He outstretched his arms. “Why not have it be me?” 

Laena backed up a small amount, just enough to gain more space between them. Her arms crossed against her chest. “And what will you gain from this? No lies now. Is it inspiring envy? Is it to prove something – whatever that may be? I do not appreciate being used.” 

A softer expression crossed his features. “I am not using you for my niece, Laena.” 

“I’m glad you understand my concerns,” she murmured dryly. 

He sighed. “I had recently escaped a miserable marriage. Why on Earth would I subject myself to one I don’t desire.” 

“You desire me? Is that so?” 

“I do.” 

She lowered her eyes, blinking slowly. “Desire is not love.” 

“That is fair enough,” he hummed. Laena looked back out at Vhagar who was dipping her massive body in the water. Her yellow eyes glowed as they peered at her. Laena let herself smile. The first genuine one she held since Daemon approached her. “Would it not be nice for that to grow over time?” 

When she met Daemon’s gaze, it was gone. He had moved closer and reached out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. 

Laena stepped back again, letting his hand stay lingering in the air where she left it. 

None of it deterred him away from looking at her lips. 

Trapped. “When will it happen?” She was trapped. 

“Within a fortnight,” he tossed out. 

She gave herself a moment to mull over the information. Her life would officially end within a fortnight. 

She was only sixteen years of age. Perhaps she was lucky, some women were married off earlier. She would have been if Viserys had chosen her. 

Laena scanned Daemon’s frame unconsciously. She would give him his heirs and then they would go their separate ways. She supposed it could be worse. She could be marrying Maris. 

“I look forward to it, My Prince.” 

Daemon looked less than convinced, but his confident smile acted as a good mask. 

No more words were uttered as she turned from him and walked away. 

All sense of decorum left her. Her features hardened into a deep frown. 

Her skin buzzed in anger. 

Not even the far off rumblings of Vhagar could quell her, though Vhagar was certainly pressing on their bond given the warmth that spread through her chest. 

As she reached the doors, the sound of Caraxes whistling pierced her ears. 

It burned when the dragonglass cut into her lip. 

When they kissed, her mouth flooded with the taste of iron. 

She even smiled when he cupped her cheek. 

It was nice to be wanted, even if it was for pretend. 

She couldn’t be sure. Daemon looked happy. 

Now, as she stared up at the ceiling, listening to her new husband’s panting, she wondered if she could be too. 

“What will happen now?” She asked. 

The pillow swished as he turned his head toward her. When she turned her head in tandem, his eyes were already on her. 

“I imagine breakfast in the morning,” he drawled. 

She nudged him. “Funny. I mean for after. What will we do? How will this… companionship work?” 

His eyes sparkled with mirth. “Companionship?” 

“I’m serious, Daemon.” 

His mirth softened into something more tender as he assessed her. 

She wished she knew what he was thinking. 

“We are now bound to each other,” Laena elaborated. “I am to welp your heirs, this I know, but what will this marriage be?” 

“It has only been a few hours since we wed, Laena. You must not worry over such things.” 

How could she not? “Of course I will worry!” She rolled onto her side to gain a better view. His smile grew and he, himself, moved closer. “Will we live apart? Only see each other for – well…” she gestured between the two. An amused breath escaped through his nose. “Or will it be more?” 

Daemon hummed, continuing to look at her in the way that made her stomach oddly flutter. “What if we traveled the world?” She gave him a confused look. “The world is a big place.” 

“Perhaps.” She twisted her mouth. “Where would we go?” 

“Everywhere,” he enticed. “There are plenty of places to see. I’ve heard that Pentos is quite nice.” 

She felt a giggle bubble inside of her. “Have you?” 

His hand found hers. “Oh, indeed. I have.” 

⇄

They, in the midst of conversation, traveled to her solar. 

Laena leaned against the bureau as Daemon sat on the loveseat.

“I have learned much,” Laena said. “I know that love is infinite.” A small, reminiscent smile grew on her face. “I do believe that a person can love more than one other. I believe love can be shown in abundance or spoken just as fiercely. It can be hurtful and it can heal. It is truly what I do know well, but…” her eyes grew wet. She blinked it away. “When I look at you, when I am with you, I don’t feel love at all. I used to,” she easily admitted. “Perhaps it was true, perhaps I was making it up. I cannot be certain.” 

“Laena. This is-” 

“Just- listen,” she grounded out. Her eyes sharp and fiery. Daemon pursed his lips in resignation. He shifted so he could gaze out the window. He watched as Moondancer balanced herself on Vhagar’s head, only to jump off when the older she-dragon tried to shake her away. “I cannot pretend anymore, Daemon. It was tiring for a long while, but I did so to save myself–to save Baela and Rhaena–from any misery… It must be nice to act as if everything is fine. It is an impressive skill of yours.” 

That was comical given how Laena reminded him of this unbreakable wall when it came to expressing anything but dull expression. As of recent times she had certainly opened up more, but she still wore that mask. He hated it. She knew he hated it. 

If anyone should take credit for control, it should be her. 

How she could pretend. How she could wear such a bright smile, only to look over at him and frown. 

Continuously precise and cordial in her appearance. An act.  

“You had resented me for so long,” he uttered. Perhaps that is why a part of him resented her too. “I wish I could remember when it started.” 

She softened imperceivably. “I had loved you once.” 

Daemon brushed his chin over his shoulder to gain a better view of her. “And you don’t now,” he clued in. “I don’t believe that.” 

“Believe what you please.” 

She did that too. Repeating words of the past, mainly his own. 

“I am not asking you to prove yourself, Daemon,” she stressed. “Nor am I trying to have you deny how I feel. I am simply being honest. I don’t want anything from you. I meant it in Pentos and I mean it here. I have felt more freedom these past moons than I have ever felt in a day with you.” 

Words that were said as if they were nothing. They wounded him greatly. 

“I cannot say the same. I was quite miserable without you, Laena.” She didn’t say a word. He went on. “You are mine… I am yours.” 

⇄

Laena blinked, a tiny frown contorted her face. “That is hardly fair.” She moved toward the wall, adjacent to him. “I do not think I have ever had one thing that was regarded as only mine. Not since you – and yet you say you are mine, but I have shared you. Daemon.” She tilted her head to scan his face. The rising sun brightened the right side of it. “But when I found the one thing I wanted, you could not let me have her!” 

It clicked for him quickly. “Thalia. Of course.” He scoffed. “It’s always about her.” 

She guffawed. “Oh, please! I rarely spoke of her. But perhaps I should have more, simply to spite you!”

“Very mature, Laena,” he snided. 

She pressed her hand to her chest. “She was mine, Daemon. For the short time I had with her, she was mine. Wholly. She made me happy!” 

“Did you love her?” 

Laena flinched as if he slapped her, appalled by his audacity. “Don’t ask me that again. You know how I felt about her.” Daemon glanced at the floor. “You knew and you could not stand that so you had her sent away.” 

He made an expression as if he tasted something sour. 

⇄

As the sun began to go down, Daemon found her stacking clothes in Baela and Rhaena’s quarters. 

He planted his back flat against the wall. 

Once Thalia’s head turned and caught sight of him, she backed up. 

He raised up a hand in a placating gesture. “I’m not here to hurt you.” It pained him to do so, but he promised his wife no harm would come to her… lover. 

She relaxed, but minimally. Her hands loosely held a teal dress. “Forgive me, but I find that hard to believe, My Prince.” Her mismatched eyes flickered down, landing on the sword he held in hand. 

He made a dramatic show of sheathing Dark Sister back into his belt, just as he did earlier that day. “Feel better?” He asked. If there was a tinge of mocking in his voice he felt it was warranted. The girl didn’t answer. “I want to know the truth,” Daemon expanded. “I want to know how long my wife has let you into our bed!” He spat. 

Despite her initial reaction, she showed no fear. “Has your wife not told you?” She asked, more confused than self-satisfied. “What is it you wish to know? All of it?” 

“I’ve come here, haven’t I?” He boasted. 

When she smiled, he itched to grab Dark Sister. His rage only grew when she decided to sit on Baela’s bed. “I admit…” she began, “I was quite taken with Laena from the moment I first saw her. She was beautiful. She never lost that beauty,” Thalia smiled fondly. Daemon felt an odd twinge in his gut. “She was always kind to me. Always kind to every servant under Prince Reggio. But, as for her and I – nothing became of us for a long time. I, of course, knew she was married,.” Her smile sharpened into something more equitable. “I was not shy with my desire, but she was certainly smitten with you, Prince Daemon.. I never pushed her.” Daemon looked to the floor, a wave of regret flushed him. “It wasn’t until a few years after your sweet daughters were born that she came to me… I’m not sure why it was me, but she was quite vocal, telling me of how her husband betrayed her and how she felt she could-” she paused abruptly. 

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, looking up. “Go on.” 

She shook her head. “I shouldn’t, I-”

“It wasn’t a request,” Daemon said darkly. 

Thalia stared at him for a long while, looking between him and his weapon. He grew tired of it before she opened her mouth again. “You must understand,” she sighed, “she was angry. She… she said she could kill you for what you did.” He was left unsurprised. He knew Laena had meant it. “Not only was she angry, she was sad. Lonely. I saw that. Perhaps I could have done better, but I was never the best at consolation. I never truly learned how. So… I kissed her – the only thought I had. It lasted for only a moment before she pulled away. She looked at me as if I were a madwoman,” she lightly chuckled. Daemon’s frown deepened. “Laena dashed out of the room before I could apologize. She never brought it up again, not for… well…” She trailed off. “She had past lovers, in which she told me you knew about,” he, in fact, did not know that, “but they were never special. Not like I am.” 

“Confident, aren’t you? Perhaps that is simply what she wanted you to believe,” he answered lowly. 

Her eye twitched. He barely caught it before she straightened her back. “Nothing became of us until last year, thereabout.” She stared at him with what he was surprised to read as understanding. “I know she loves you… and I have accepted that it may perhaps be more than she loves me, but it does not matter. For I love her. I’ve loved her from afar and from up close,” Thalia expressed. The pure devotion in her words never missed him. “She is special, unlike anyone I have ever met. I would give her everything I have if it meant her happiness.” 

He disliked that confession even more. He was envious. Jealous. It made him nervous. 

“I’ve worked under Prince Reggio since I was ten years of age,” Thalia said. “I hardly remember much about my mother except for the look on her face when we parted. The last time I saw her she was crying so hard that my father had to hold her up or else she’d have collapsed. And as for my father… I remember him even less.” She laid the teal dress in front of her, smoothing out the wrinkles. “All this to say, as much as I miss the mother I hardly knew, I would never trade Laena for it. I have never loved anyone as much as I love her. I never will.” 

Daemon had about enough of her squabbling. “I want you to leave.” 

Her head snapped up. “What?” Her devotion replaced by confusion. 

He took a step forward. She never moved an inch. 

“I want you to leave Pentos. Tonight.” 

A light scowl graced her features. “I understand that you are upset, My Prince, but… we did nothing wrong.” 

“You presume to understand me? You know nothing of me,” he growled. “You are nothing. A mere paramour, but I am her husband. She doesn’t deserve to be weakened by the likes of you.” 

Slowly, she stood. “Weakened?” She asked, dangerously close to hissing. “I only want what is best for her!” 

“I am what is best for her!” He erupted. 

A sharp exhale punched itself from her throat. “I apologize,” Thalia uttered quickly, firmly, “but you cannot command me. I am under the rule of Prince Reggio. He controls what I do and where I go. Not you.” 

She looked down, resuming her duties. 

She never acknowledged him again. 

Daemon nodded his head in small increments. Never had he ever wished death upon someone so greatly. 

Laena would never forgive him. 

He backed out of the room, then swept the air along with him as he rushed down the hall towards Reggio’s station. 

⇄

“Why didn’t you go and find her then?” He dryly asked. 

It was crass and mocking, yet it made Laena still. Daemon took notice. 

He leaned forward. “Had you?” She opened her mouth only to close it. “When was this? How?”

How? She echoed inside her head. She wasn’t as incompetent as he wanted to believe. 

“It wasn’t recent,” she said slowly. “It was before. After she first left.” Daemon assessed her with unconcealed judgement, as if her actions were a betrayal. She couldn’t even bring herself to laugh at his audacity. “It wasn’t a long search, I can assure you. Perhaps only a moon or two. When I took Baela and Rhaena into the city I would look for her. When we flew on Vhagar I would sometimes take us to the nearby free cities and-” 

“That is what you went for?” He asked incredulously. 

“Aye. Are you surprised that your little hired spies could not tell you of this? Hm?” She furrowed her brows in discontent. He sat back, the chair let out a light creak from the sudden shift. She sighed. “It was mostly Braavos, Lys once. I never told you, Daemon, because I knew you would keep me even further under your watch. I could not stand your incessant need to keep me where you could see me! You had once said how I haunted your every move but it was indeed you who kept Reggio’s minions in your payroll to watch me and report to you.” He didn’t try to deny it. “But fear not… I never found her. I have no idea if she is even alive or not.” She couldn’t help her melancholy. “I wanted someone who loved me.” 

Daemon frowned, pure hurt bloomed in his eyes. “I loved you. I love you!” He declared passionately. 

Laena stared at him. “I… I want something different.” 

“Thalia?” He asked quietly. 

She shrugged. “I don’t know – I can’t even say where she is. Who’s to say if she’d even want to see me?” Carefully, she traveled closer to him and sat beside him. She looked out the window, but felt Daemon’s eyes burn into the side of her face. “I never meant to love her,” she admitted. “It wasn’t something I had planned. But I did. I fell in love with her.” Her eyes shined with tears as she turned her head. Daemon, himself, looked heartbroken. As heartbroken as a man like him could look. “I didn’t do it to hurt you, Daemon. I… I hated myself for it in the beginning. But then I had come to realize that just because I loved her, it didn’t mean I loved you any less. It never meant I stopped loving you. I had tried. I couldn’t.” New hope flashed in his eyes. She had to squash it. “But that was then.” She turned her head back to the window. “You had her sent away. I will never forgive you for that. Ever. You must know that.” 

Laena clutched the paper tightly in her hand. 

‘I am sorry, Laena,’ it read. “I had no choice.’

That was it. Nothing more. Nothing less. 

The last words she would ever get from Thalia. 

⇄

He was penning a letter to Rhaenys when the sound of stomping footsteps reached his ears. 

He knew who it was before he saw her. 

“Where is she?” She asked viciously. Daemon glanced up at her from the parchment, then looked back down. “You put her on a ship?” Laena questioned. “To where? TO WHERE, DAEMON?!” Her voice boomed across the open space. Against his personal wants, he met her attention again. Never had he witnessed her look so furious as she did now. She looked close to pushing him out of his chair. 

He had no clue where Thalia was sent off. He made certain that Reggio never told him. He couldn’t risk Laena knowing. 

When he stood to walk around her, Laena did push him. 

She went to do so again, but he grabbed her wrists before she had the chance. He lightly shook them. “Enough!” He grounded out. 

Laena took a sweeping step back, breaking away. She breathed heavily as she looked upon him with defiance and betrayal. 

“What have you done?” She asked, softer but no less grating. 

He stared her down with his lips pursed. “I did what was necessary. For our family. For us. For you!” 

Laena scoffed, then shook her head adamantly. “For me? You sent Thalia away for me? You lie. You sent her away for you and only you. So spare me!” 

“She wasn’t good for you, Laena!” He matched her raised voice. “She was a servant! I am your husband!” 

“I never fucking cared for her station! And the gods know that you never did either, the only thing you care about was that she shared my bed!” She spat. 

There was a certain truth to that, but Daemon wouldn’t admit it aloud to her. 

“I am your husband!” He persisted. 

“And I am your wife!.. But that never mattered when I first found you with that man, fucking him whilst I took care of our daughters.” 

Daemon clenched his jaw. 

“Of course it mattered!” “Even Thalia showed them more concern than you; their own father!” They both shouted simultaneously. 

Oh, his wife was cruel. 

“Do not!” He barked. “Do not do that with me, Laena!” She nodded her head petulantly, looking away from him. “Not about our children! Not about us!” 

“I only speak the truth!” 

⇄

“If you cared for me as you say you do. If you loved me – you would mount Caraxes, leave Driftmark, and never return,” she spoke in a whisper, fierce in her delivery. “Baela and Rhaena had learned to live without you long before you had passed, they can do so again. They do not need you.” She stood up in a sweep. He followed her motion. “I do not need you!” 

Deep in her bones, she knew he would never heed her advice. 

“Abandoning you and our daughters, is that what you so need?!” 

“It is what I want!” She shouted. 

They were face to face, nearly breathing in each other’s air. 

“I can’t believe you, Laena. I know you love me. As much as you try to deny it and have me believe it, I know it is so. You love me as I love you. It is us!” He said concisely and boisterously. 

As if it being ‘us’ mattered. 

“You…” she began, “are the father of my children. Of course a part of me holds love for you, but I-” a sudden lump formed in her throat. “I… I cannot- I’m not…” 

His softened voice was a sharp contrast from his stern features. “You’re not ‘ what?’” It was like she was transported back into the past. 

As if his words were magic, she swallowed past the lump. “I’m not in love with you anymore.” 

When she watched as his face slowly fell, she realized what she said. 

The scariest part was that she wasn’t sure if she was lying. 

“I’m sorry,” she stuttered out. “I’m sorry.” 

Laena brushed past him as she rushed out of the room. 

Her silk gown fanned around her as her mind melted in tandem. All she could do was leave him behind.