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I carry the OCEAN in my HANDS And with my MOTHER's grief, I DANCE
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Daena Targaryen was akin to a stray dog- Hungry and cannibalistic. Feening for the attention she's been deprived of ever since she was born. She only knew how to love using her teeth. Her bite was forceful and primal in such a wild way, that it shredded through flesh and muscle. It was too much, too overwhelming. She did not know how to love things... people, like a normal person would.
Her father was to blame for her abnormality. Her incapability to touch anything without it breaking before her. It was his fault, all of it, she was sure. At first, she believed herself unlovable and that there was nothing she could do to fix it. That the reason why her mother showed no interest in her was because she had done something wrong, perhaps she hurt her without meaning to, and Daena apologized incessantly even if she didn't have to, hoping to rectify whatever perceived transgression had led to her mother's cold attitude. And still, nothing changed. Her mother continued to disregard her, she was not even granted the privilege of knowing why she was left in the dark, why she was being denied the only thing she longed for.
There was only silence.
But it soon became clear that Evalyn was drowning in sadness as if she were mourning the dead, or so Daena assumed. The woman was sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss without an anchor to cling her life to. Evalyn was naive, a fool even, to allow herself to be used, holding onto the hope of becoming a cherished wife- to be loved by him or anyone for the matter. Her heart was heavy with sorrow and it was punishment enough to be abandoned in the end without so much as an explanation. It seemed the Gods decided she deserved to suffer more because every time she looked at her daughter, Evalyn was reminded of him always. She could not escape him. She could feel water invading her lungs and stealing every bit of oxygen at the memory of him. She was suffocating in her own grief. It did not matter how hard she tried to see past the silvery-white hair and soft violet eyes that stared up at her searching for a spec of affection she could not offer, it seemed he would always haunt her from wherever he was.
