The Passion of a Thousand Suns | Aemond Targaryen

Sixteen: the sun, the moon, the stars

DRAGONSTONE

129 AC

With a gentle touch, Hira ran her fingers through Joffrey's tousled brown hair, taming the wild strands. The boy nestled deeper into her bed, drawing closer to her warmth. Though the sun still hung high in the early afternoon sky, his eyelids were already drooping with the promise of sleep.

"Comfortable, little prince?" she asked softly.

He nodded, a bright eagerness lighting his sleepy face.

"Then I shall begin the tale of the sun, and the moon, and the stars." She began telling her favourite childhood tale, her voice weaving an enchanting spell with every word. "There was a time when the sun and the moon were married and shared a home in the sky. When the moon left to collect vegetables from the jungle, she asked the sun to guard their sleeping children, cautioning him to keep distance, lest his heat burn their delicate bodies. The sun watched over the children, cooing at their dimples and tiny little fingers and toes. Overcome with affection and love, he kissed them goodnight, forgetting the moon's warning. When he leaned over their bodies, they melted."

Joffrey gasped, and Hira fought back a smile at his wide-eyed reaction. He tugged at her hand, eager for her to continue.

"The foolish father, horrified and afraid of his wife's rage, hid. When the moon returned to an empty sky house, she discovered the tragedy. Heartbroken over the loss of her children, she waited for the sun, her anger quietly building. When the sun finally returned, a terrible, bloody fight commenced. In his rage, the sun threw the vegetables at the moon's face, and at that moment, she vowed to leave him forever. This, the Elders say, is why on a full night, you can still see the marks the sun left on the moon's face. The melted children became the stars we wish upon, and the sun forever chases the moon, trying in vain to win back her love."

"Is it true?" he demanded with the urgency only a child could muster. "Is that really why the moon is scarred and why we have stars?"

"It could be," Hira replied, her tone thoughtful. "Who are we to know the truth of nature? Once there was nothing, then the gods came, and so did creation."

A contemplative expression crossed Joffrey's face. "But why would the sun keep chasing the moon, knowing he hurt her and their children?"

Curious and perceptive, the youngest Velaryon boy was. Hira couldn't help but think of her younger self, once full of endless questions for the scholars and teachers at the academy. She had wanted to know why the grass was green and not blue like the sea or sky. And when she learned about her father, she recalled the hundreds of questions she had about dragons and Targaryens.

Hira hummed in thought. "The sun loved the moon deeply, so much so that he continues to seek her, even after such a heartbreaking betrayal. Perhaps he believes she might one day forgive him and that in time, the wounds of the past will heal. Perhaps he think he is redeemable. Tell me, if you were the moon, would you forgive the sun?"

He shook his head. "I wouldn't. You never hurt your family."

"Sometimes, you do hurt them, even if you don't mean to," she said, her tone growing serious. "What should we do when we hurt someone we love?""

off tilted his head, pondering. "We give them a jar of sweets as an apology?"

Hira threw her head back and laughed. "That is a good start, little prince."

Joffrey fiddled with the gold rings on her fingers as she sang softly under her breath. The seven-year-old had stumbled into her room during the day, seeking refuge from the maester and his lessons. Hira indulged his mischievous plans, captivating him with tales of the legends from her homeland.