Princess Maegelle Targaryen knew the importance of balance and unity, she learnt it from deceased her husband. Now that her mother is to the worms, she must return to Kingslanding and protect the claim that her father has bestowed upon her.
"You ne...
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"Sweet Maegelle," he smiled, her name tasting like honey on his bitter tongue. This niece of his was now Viserys' heir, destined to inherit everything good and holy. That used to be his spot, and it used to be his inheritance. "Daemon," she replied while gathering a few books in her hands.
She was nothing like the maidens that the court often introduced to Daemon. She wasn't petite like Rhaenyra. She had round breasts, a wide stomach, everything about her body felt human, it had signs of child-bearing. She was one of those beautiful maidens that felt real, and that was beautiful in his eyes.
"Spending time in the library instead of your father's council, some things never change." his voice bounces off the small room. He continues walking until he is in front of her, blocking her way. "You hardly know anything about my routine." she pointed out, returning a book to its rightful shelf. His presence was comforting.
It was seldom to see a man that knew what he wanted.
"I spend my time with you, because I wish to learn your routine." he answered cheekily, crossing his arms and leaning on the shelf. His eyebrows raise in amusement, and she pays him no attention. Maegelle was immune to all charms. Her change in demeanor already told him that. If he was a hunter, then this sign says 'leave or die' but it's a good thing that he wasn't a hunter in this scenario.
"You've been gone for far too long," he purrs, his eyes transfixed on her. She was pretending to hate him, yet was wearing a gown that he commissioned for her. "We've both been gone for so long." she remarks, making the 'so' part intentionally longer. There were rumors that he tainted half the maidens in Kingstanding, dipping into their maidenheads before anyone could think twice.
Maegelle was no longer a maiden, and thus couldn't understand why he was head over heels over something he could not corrupt. "The last time we saw each other, you were a babe, and now a woman-grown." he leaned cooly on the shelf. She scoffs at his statement, turning her head towards the neighboring shelf.
"Not just a woman grown, but a mother." she corrected.
Men like him were not easily discouraged, but they could be ignored.
He continued following her like a lost puppy, until she held a dusty book in her hands, facing his direction, and blew the dust in his face. He coughs twice, his eyes close from the sudden irritant. His face reminded her of a court jester.
He coughs again. Loudly.
A loud laugh escapes her mouth. She quickly raises her palm to cover her mouth, the book drops to the floor. "Was that amusing?" he rolled his eyes, reaching down to return the book in its rightful position.
She thinks of him again, his eyes closed, coughing. She laughs for the second time, the years have not stolen her mischief. He grabs her by the elbow, forcing her to look at him. "Daemon," she says in a sweet voice, looking at him with those innocent doe eyes. He could not stay mad.
"I see that you haven't outgrown the silly pranks." his eyebrows merged with each other. Maegelle smiles, happy that Daemon remembered her, she almost thought that he wouldn't as she was unremarkable as a child. All these years, he hasn't stopped thinking of her. "You were supposed to outgrow it?" she tilted her head innocently, picking up another book and placing it in her hands.
By this time, there were five books in her hands. Her discomfort was clear.
Daemon places his hand atop the last book, taking all of it from her hand. "Daemon!" she complained, the weight lifted from her fingers. "Silence," he says firmly, placing all the weight on his left arm, taking her hand in his right, and leading her out of the library.
They were welcomed by the cold and silent air.
-
They were sprawled out on the gardens, both of them reading about tales from centuries ago. Maegelle laid there underneath the Weirwood Tree, a faint reminder of the North, her body sprawled on its clothed roots, her chest rising and falling as deep relaxation spread over her body. This was peace.
"When you were younger, you had to be forced to read." he chuckled, remembering the times that she threw tantrums when Queen Alyssane forced her to learn. Maegelle pauses for a moment, thinking of the first time she willingly picked a book up. "King Jaehaerys made it a requirement to read at least one short story before heading off to bed." She welcomed the memory of him.
No longer mourning her great-grandsire. One must not think bitterly of the past, when one could reminisce about happy memories. Daemon's mouth opened, a small hum of understanding left his lips. King Jaehaerys and Queen Alyssane were cruel to him. Forced him to marry a woman much older than him.
He moved his body, to the point that her elbows touched his own, and he laid his head on her shoulder, seeing no ounce of rebellion from her. He takes a deep breath. Lilies and Rose. Reading was not relaxation but this was.
"Read to me," he requested, his eyelids fluttering. There was something about her presence that brought tranquility. She leaned into him too, and words of old began to spill from her tongue. Stories about quests, and dragon lords, from legends of fables.
Until she doesn't realize that they've both fallen asleep. Leaning into each other and starting a fire that would sooner put the realm to blaze.
