You and I, We're the Same

Chapter Five

The confrontation with Alicent had left me quite irritated, and I was in no mood to see anyone in the halls of the Keep. Remembering the map Daemon had left me the night we ventured into Flea Bottom, I quickly find the tapestry of Balerion the Black Dread that I had seen scrawled on the parchment. Briefly looking around to make sure I was alone, I pull the heavy fabric aside and step through the narrow alcove. I start following the curve of the wall that leads to my chambers when I hear heated voices echoing to my right.

Curious, I turn around, trailing my fingers against the dusty stone as I walk toward the voices. A flight of stairs and two left turns later, I find myself at a small, barred window. Peering in, I see my father seated at the Small Council table, Daemon standing at the opposite end, the tension obvious between them.

"With the Velaryons' dismissal of the betrothal, what would truly be the harm of wedding Rhaenyra to me?" Daemon asks, frustration evident in his tone.

"You've only ever sought the throne, Daemon," Viserys spits back, "And now you'll go to such lengths as to marrying your niece to get it." He shakes his head in disbelief, the movement making him cough.

"Brother, I assure you, Rhaenyra will be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and I, just her King Consort. Allow us to wed and bring strength back to our great house," Daemon responds, and my body warms at his words.

"Is that all that matters to you? Targaryen supremacy?" Viserys retorts.

"It should be all that matters to you, Viserys," Daemon replies pointedly. "But I fear the whispers of those you have kept close through the years have made you forget." I glance at my father, the red creeping further into his face.

"Forget what?" he asks through clenched teeth. I notice my father wheezing a bit more than usual today, and wonder if the new salves Maester Orwyle has been administering are helping at all.

"The pride of our House. The dragon fire in our bones. It has been years since you rode the Black Dread, and I fear it has caused a dimness within you," Daemon says quietly.

Viserys stares at him, a mixture of guilt and fury etched on his face, sweat beading on his brow. "And I suppose allowing you to wed my daughter would fix that, will it?"

"My marriage to Rhaenyra would strengthen her claim and ensure the survival and prosperity of House Targaryen for generations. Don't allow the biases you've been fed about me to influence your decision on this matter," Daemon continues.

Viserys is silent for a few moments and then responds, "You know, the last time you asked me to wed her to you, you already had a wife. Tell me, Daemon, where were you when Lady Rhea fell from her horse?" The last time? He had asked for my hand before, I realize, my heart soaring.

"Lady Rhea suffered a tragic—"

"Yes, a tragic accident, as you stated last night to Ser Gerold. Interesting how it just happened to transpire right after I denied your proposal to marry Rhaenyra," my father comments.

"Truthfully, brother, that is neither here nor there. Lady Rhea's death has nothing to do with whether or not you'll accept our betrothal," Daemon fires back.

"I just cannot believe you would go to such lengths as to—"

"I love her, Viserys," Daemon declares. It takes everything in my power not to gasp out loud at his words, tears filling my eyes. "And I wish to fly with her to Dragonstone and marry her in the tradition of Old Valyria." Even my father looks taken aback at Daemon's rare display of emotion. He sits quietly looking at him, fidgeting with his council stone in silence.

I take my leave and start moving quickly through the passageway again, back through Balerion the Black Dread, and hasten toward the Small Council room. I round a corner and collide right into Larys Strong.

"My apologies, Princess," He says, bowing and offering a small, quick smile that doesn't reach his eyes. I offer a fake smile back and nod, and continue to hurry down the hall, feeling Larys' eyes on my back with every step. There's something about him, I think, a chill trickling down my spine.

As I near the Small Council room, I slow down, my hands fisting at my sides to try and calm the nerves I suddenly feel. I enter the room and am surprised to find that only my father remains, staring at the table in exhaustion. He looks up at me and scoffs half-heartedly.

"You just missed Daemon," he sighs. I walk over to where he sits, pulling out the chair next to him. Sitting down, I place my hand on his arm in comfort. We stay like this for awhile until he finally speaks.

"Do you trust him?" He asks, the question lingering in the air.

"With my whole heart," I reply without hesitation. "Do you?"

"How did I miss this?" He continues, more to himself than to me.

I think about all the moments that have led me here. Daemon coming home from the Stepstones, kneeling and offering his crown to my father. Daemon talking to me in High Valyrian, understanding the deepest parts of my very being. Daemon showing me life in the city, holding my hand as he introduces me to a world I never knew existed. Daemon clutching me to himself as if we were the only two in a room filled with five hundred people. Daemon closing his eyes as we move slowly together, overcome with passion and pleasure.

"I think we have always been twin flames of the same fire, him and I." I pause, the emotion welling in my throat. "We have always been meant to burn together. While I help quell his ferocity, he helps light my soul ablaze." My father looks at me as I say this and after a brief hesitation, reaches out to wipe a tear from my face.

"Go," he whispers. I look at him, crying freely now. He nods. "Go." I squeeze his arm and lean over to kiss his cheek. I start to leave the room.

"Rhaenyra," he calls. I pause, turning around. "To answer your question, I do not trust him. But I trust you," I nod, realizing this is the extent of the blessing we would get from him, and leave.

--------

I find Daemon alone in the throne room, standing before the mountain of swords. The setting sun casts shadows across the stone floor, but a sole ray of light surrounds him, making my breath hitch at his beauty.

"That will be yours someday," he whispers, the Valyrian rolling headily off his tongue. I come up behind him, snaking my arms around his waist, humming into his shoulder in response.

"I talked to Viserys," he sighs, remorse heavy in his tone. He places his hand on mine, caressing my skin with his thumb.

"So did I," I murmur. He turns around in surprise at this, placing his hands on my hips to bring me closer. He kisses me, slow and fierce, and then rests his forehead against mine.

"So," I whisper, "When do we leave?" I feel his body jolt at the words, and suddenly he lifts me up with a laugh, the kind that only comes from disbelief, spinning us around. We kiss again, his lips salty from my tears.

"To Dragonstone, then?" He asks, elation written on his face.

"To Dragonstone," I reply, and bring his mouth down to mine once more.