Saera was her mother's favorite daughter, known for being demure and obedient, the smallfolk adored her. She obeyed everything that her king commanded of her, but she protested against her marriage to Ser Harwin Strong.
She catches him in an affai...
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Daemon Targaryen had lived a long life before Saera, though no matter how hard he tried, he could not remember it. There was no happiness in his memories of the battlefield, he cannot find it in the company of whores in Flea bottom.
It only took one glance in those light-purple eyes of hers, to understand that he has only found happiness at her hands.
He continues watching her. Such a constellation, was she to him. Saera who had thin-pink lips, light-purple eyes and a gentle disposition. She was made for him. "Uncle," she opened her mouth to speak, sitting down beside him.
Wherever the Rogue Prince went, his princess was sure to follow. "Saera," he answers with warmth in his tone. "I missed days like these, the warmth of the summer sun." she leaned into the chair, allowing the sun to kiss her exposed skin. "I pray that winter has not chilled your heart, little dragon." he was quick to respond.
He could not stop himself from staring at her, staring at her exposed collarbone, and inhaling her scent of lavender and rosemary.
"Did you come here to pester me again?" he raised an eyebrow, seemingly teasing her.
"My kepa has forbidden me to ride Melarys. Mayhaps, you could talk some sense into him." she pleaded.
An amused chuckle escapes his mouth. She reminds him of his youth.
"You've made the mistake of asking for his permission, and now you wish for me to mend your losses?" he delighted in her company. Daemon Targaryen was intimidating and self-serving, in the eyes of many people – but when he basked in the company of his little niece, he found himself unable to construct even the simplest of sentences.
"You want me to rebel against the King's orders?" she humored.
Daemon answers with a shrug. He knew for certain that Saera was perfect, obedient and chaste, but those virtues wouldn't save her. She needed to grow thick skin in order to survive her father's court. "Do what you wish, Saera. There is not a place in this castle that is not welcome to you." he defended himself.
She pauses for a while, thinking about his advice. Mayhaps, she made the mistake of asking for her father's permission indeed. "Come with me, Daemon." she offered.
—
They both halted in front of the Dragonpit.
Daemon smiles seeing happiness twinkle in Saera's eyes. He'd kill anyone who tries to take that sparkle away. It was beautiful in his eyes – the caprice of youth. "Let's race from here to your keep." he offered, lifting his arms to pet Caraxes.
"Arranging a match to lose? I wonder why the people of this court believe you to be a master strategist." she taunted, doing the same with her dragon.
Melarys has always been a beautiful little thing. Her wings and scales were pale white. She was the smallest dragon in all the lands, but whatever she lacked in scale was made up for with her speed. She was fast, faster than sound traveled, a normal man is unable to see her once she flew but the sound of her whistle always gave her spot away.
"I would not have created this proposal if I didn't stand a winning chance." his lips pressed into a thin line, watching as the dragon keepers saddled their dragons.
She rolled her eyes at his statement.
He holds her jaw with his right hand. "Are you rolling your eyes at me?" he opened his mouth, and she smiled. "I'm not," she lied, evading his gaze.
"The winner shall win something." he laid out, but his plan was already etched weeks in advance. He's been meaning to give her this gift. "I hope that you prepared something, for I am the sure victor."she says, his cockiness rubbed off on her.
He stares at her, a soft smile on his lips.
"If you are certain, then give your sweet uncle a head start." he chuckled, riding his dragon and patting him gently – prompting the dragon to light off the ground.
Caraxes exits the Dragonkeep.
He was alone in the skies for the first five minutes. The cold air and the warm sun kissed his figure. There was not a doubt in his heart that Saera and Melarys would be following him soon.
Five minutes turned into ten.
And then he hears whistling.
"Cunt," he mumbled, the whistle moving past him. He takes a deep breath, the whistle long being gone – and he is already left eating dust. He leans closer to Caraxes. "Everytime, Caraxes." he whispered, the dragon roaring in reply. "You always let your lover win." he grumbled.
As a consolation, Caraxes moves much faster.
But both of their efforts are wasted, because Melarys has already landed.
Daemon fishes for the necklace inside his pocket. He sees the grassy field in his periphery. He was never bestowed upon the gift of perfect vision, and with his age – his sight has slightly deteriorated, but it didn't matter. Even if he was blind, he'd still know the sound of her footsteps, even if he was dead, he could still be brought to life by the sound of her voice.
He sees a small dot in the middle of the field.
Saera, who was unamused with his defeat.
Caraxes landed strongly, his claws creating horizontal lines on the grass. Saera looks up at him. "You lose again, uncle." she taunted with a soft smirk, her arms were crossed, eyes giddy with excitement at the possibility of her uncle giving her another gift.
"I intended for that to happen." he reasoned, descending from his dragon. "Of course," she bites her lower lip, walking closer until their bodies are mere inches apart. "My prize, please." she reminded.
Daemon pretended to look disappointed; a childish show of endearment. "Close your eyes," he commanded. She held her palms out. Saera was spoiled by him, no doubt. He used to give her the most exotic presents, a scarf from Leng, a jade tiara made by the finest jewelers were a few examples of his devotion to her.
His smile deepens, seeing that smile on her lips.
He holds her hand, dropping the Valyrian necklace safely on her soft palms.
She opens her eyes without instruction. She gasps at the beauty of his gift. "Kepus, thank you!" she whispers softly, always grateful no matter how big or small the gift was. "It was made for you, my dragon." he started.
"- do you know what it is made of?" he inquired, testing her knowledge with metals.
"Valyrian Steel, but I don't understand where the red rouge comes from?" she asked curiously, she raises her head – staring at him with doe eyes. "It is made from my blood, a reminder of our shared ancestry. Now turn around." he commanded again, taking the necklace from her hands.
She turns around, whisking her hair away from her nape. "It is beautiful." she exaggerates, feeling the cold metal touch her neck. She could also feel his warm hands as he clasped the necklace together. "I promise to never take it off." she vowed, turning around. "- I wouldn't want you to." he breathed, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Her fingers danced until she was playing with the pendant of the necklace. Daemon found it beautiful, like a babe teething off their mother's fingers.
"If I had known that you'd give me such a lavish gift. I would've given you ten more minutes." she giggled, wrapping her arms around him. Daemon welcomed her embrace, finding her warmth quenching his centuries' cold.
