To Take What Is Rightfully Ours

Chapter 12. Taking Back Old Friendship

Falley Hills hasn't changed much since Daemon was there the last time. The same trees, the same river, the same houses. It felt like time stopped in this small village that was only on half of Westeros' maps. It was the same as Daemon remembered. He didn't remember the trip there being almost four hours though but then again he usually traveled with Caraxes and not by horse. This time, however, he didn't want to draw any attention to his whereabouts. If everything went smoothly, he would be back at the Red Keep before midnight and everyone would be none the wiser where he had been.

Villagers spotted him almost as soon as he rode into the village. They didn't approach him, didn't even say anything, but Daemon knew they were looking. He knew they knew who he was. They probably even figured out who he was there to see. People from small villages never forget faces, not in ten years at least, and surely not the face of a person who used to bring his dragon with him all the time.

Daemon saw the house he was looking for after a few turns. The uncomfortable sense of dread settled somewhere inside his chest. He knew there was no danger there, but facing memories was terrifying. A part of him wanted to just flee this small village and never come back, but Daemon told it to shut up. He had a task to do, and it was important. Surely memories can't be scarier than a fight with the Crabfeeder.

'Daemon?' the voice called, and he stopped the horse. An old woman was standing near her fence with her eyes narrowed slightly as if she was trying to see his face more clearly. 'Is it really you, my dear, or am I becoming senile? At my age, it won't be even surprising.'

That made Daemon chuckle. 'Yes, it's really me, Azea,' he jumped off his horse and went to her. 'It is good to see you.'

'I don't see you quite clearly just yet, let me,' Azea went around the fence and took his face in her hands when she reached him. 'That's better. You've changed a lot since the last time I've seen you.'

'And you haven't changed a bit.'

Azea laughed, 'I know you are lying. I grew old, but that's just the way of life,' she patted him on the shoulder. 'What are you doing here?'

'I need to talk to Haisa. Is she still living...'

'Oh, yes,' the old woman answered. 'I know she planned to move but since Iris was gone... she didn't want to leave that house. Well, you understand.'

Daemon didn't. Theoretically, of course, he could guess the reasoning behind it, but... when Iris died, he fled and refused to come back because it was just so painful to see and walk the streets they once walked together. He couldn't imagine how Haisa could bear to stay in the same house for ten years. But people grieve differently, he supposed.

'Anyway, I'm not going to hold you longer. She is probably already waiting for you. News travels fast here.'

'Yes, I remember,' Daemon gave her a small smile. 'I'll stop by again before I leave.'

Haisa's house was two houses away from Azea's so it wasn't a long walk. And when Daemon approached it, the woman was already standing in the doorway. Her dark brown hair got longer since the last time Daemon saw her, and she gained a bunch of wrinkles. She must have been around forty if he remembered correctly. She was wearing a plain brown dress and cleaning her hands with a towel.

When Daemon stepped past the fence, their eyes met.

'Do something... Haisa, do something!'

'I'm so sorry... I can't- she- she is gone...'

The memories can indeed be scarier than the Crabfeeder.

'I thought I would never see you again,' Haisa said with a small smile on her lips. 'Come on in, I'll find us something to drink.'