BLOOD // FIRE - - - DAEMON TARGARYEN

PART II

In 120 A.C. she had three nobleman offering strong marriages for the House Targaryen – Lord Rickon Stark and Ser Gwayne Hightower both with twenty-four years old and Lord Bremond Baratheon with sixty-eight years old. Between the three she had a liking to Lord Stark and his proximity to the beyond that existed after the Wall – she was a curious girl after all and having Vhagar with her would make easier to explore; on the other hand, his young children were a huge downside. She was a little repulsed with the idea of marrying Lord Baratheon and his very old age but was not all opposite to unite with Queen Alicent's brother. She shared her thoughts with her father and stepmother and they both agreed with the initial idea of Lord Stark – a strong alliance with the North was an important subject. A ball and feast were planned for the suitors to come and integrate with the Second Princess and to the King to hear their political proposals.

However, it was to her older sister and confident, Rhaenyra, that she cried an entire night. She did not wish to marry those three men and was only following her obligations – as she should and promised with blood to do. Her true heart was across the Narrow See in the hands of Prince Daemon, her protector in the year before. She had hoped the shinning in his eyes and his sweet voice reciting old Valyrian poems were destined to her only – but a year had passed and not even a single letter responded was delivered to her.

"I think I made a mistake going to Essos, sister... If I had not been there, then my heart would not hurt so much. I am the same naïve girl that wished to fly the skies forever. I dream about his voice and dancing every night. I ride Vhagar day pass day in hope I see Caraxes in the air... How fool was I, sister?"

"My dearest sister... When I was younger than you, before marrying Leanor, I was infatuated with him as well. That time he was a crown seeker and a little fascinated with me - I think. I say this not to sadden you but to tell the rest of the story. When I went after you in Pentos, I met him after long years with little contact. I still saw a man hunger for power – even though he declared his utterly support of me being Heir. And I also saw more than that...

I saw a man with clear eyes and fond words towards you. I do not think I have ever seen such admiration or that tone in his voice before, dear... He wrote me a letter a little before you came home and I did not know he was capable of love, but his words were of a man in love... I cannot guarantee he will come for your hand – his thoughts are still a foreign place to me. However, I can assure you that he had feelings for you - you were and still is special to him, my sister."

"I do not know if only being special to him will be enough when I start to face the winter in the North. I do not think my heart will survive such ache. Or cold. I have prayed to the Seven Who Are One and even the old Valyrian Gods. I could pray to other gods as well if I knew their names. Could they take my heart out of my body and spar my suffering?"

"I know a person whose lover died a while ago... Their great love. But I see that they are learning to love again in a heart once destroyed. You are a strong girl; a strong woman and you are capable of fascinating things. Give some time to yourself to heal... And remember - you will not freeze because you are Targaryen, and a Targaryen is made of fire."

With seventeen years old she would spent many hours braiding and unbraiding her younger sister's hair and would laugh observing her nephews bound with their dragons; she would have afternoon meetings with her stepmother every week and would read a long book to her father resting in his bed; she would feel a little annoyed with her younger brother and his antics, but would be impressed with her other brother and his growing abilities with the swords; she would have supper with her sister and help her with the youngest son. She would live each day with her family while waiting – for the feast, for the upcoming marriage and for her fading hope to finally disappear. In the early mornings she would ride Vhagar till King's Landing was just a tiny dot in the horizon – and then come back when only fishes and birds were seen.

Many Lords and important nobles were present in the ball and feast – by the end of the third day of celebrations the King would announce the betrothed of the Second Princess with one of the suitors. She danced with Lord Stark and Ser Hightower in the first night. They both made her laugh and promised a good life in their realms – with long lands to fly Vhagar, political arrangements and, if the Gods were merciful, happiness. Lord Baratheon was feeling ill and did not leave his chambers on that day – she prayed he would not appear till the end. Queen Alicent had her thoughts on her brother but knew that the best option would be Lord Stark and a stronger alliance with the North. King Viserys wished his daughter to be happy in her life – and with his conversation with Rhaenyra in mind, he was hoping for a last surprise to appear in the ball; he would give her hand if he asked.

In the second day she only showed up in the middle of the day – her maids spend the whole morning trying to duel with the swelling of her red eyes. The last time she would allow herself to miss her duty – even if each second her heart ached, and she felt getting smaller and smaller. They drank and ate, knights dueled, and gifts were giving to prove their value to the Princess. Lord Baratheon was able to join the feast in the beginning of the night and danced slowly with her – he had pain in his inferior joints. He gave her a neckless and whispered an old short Valyrian poem to her – his mother was a Valeryon and his High Valyrian was rusty and barely understandable. "A kind gesture, my Lord, to recite a poem in my mother tongue" – but he was not able to respond her because the poem took him a week to memorize and his knowing of the language stopped there.

The third day arrived and with it a heat that made a few North nobles faint. It felt like home to her – maybe the Gods were giving one last gift to her. The last morning came, then the last afternoon and soon the evening approached like a premonition – Targaryen were known to have revelations during dreams, visions about the future and that was what saved them of the Doon of Valyria so many years back. She herself was capable of see small things but nothing with too much impact – only one dream she wished was a vision. However, it was becoming very improbable to happen – a shady image of her, Daemon and a small child with platinum hair and lilac eyes with the warn sun of King's Landing above their heads. Maybe she was not blessed with the art of foresee the future after all.

"I have to ask one last time, my daughter, is the Lord Stark in your likings?"

"He is a strong ally, and we need more influence in the North."

"That is not what I asked, my child."

"The one that I prefer did not present to ask for my hand therefore Lord Stark is a good match."

"I see... I am sorry if I failed you in any way – maybe If I had..."

"Do not blame yourself on it, my father. I disobeyed you and went after trouble on my own. I am only living with what I planted, my King."

King Viserys I was an ill man and a devoted father, husband, grandfather, and brother – but he was not able to fulfill all their dreams or wishes, he was the King but also only a man made of flesh and bones. Rhaenyra understanded grift in different ways than her sister but what she was seeing was almost touchable – the ache. The time was coming, and the last dances were being performed – she danced one last time with Lord Stark before their betrothed.