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OLDTOWN || 124 AC
eight years later
—
𝕸any years had passed, and many things had changed since. Daena wasn't the little girl who used to huddle up in her bed chambers anymore or have her nose deep down in her father's history books, Daena Targaryen was a grown woman who did mature and who did serve her purpose as a Princess. Daena went through the heavens and hells to get where she is right now, she was now the respected lady of Oldtown which came to shock all that knew her as she never was one to like social roles. The Daena that was quiet and vulnerable became the Daena that could speak up for herself and not cower away anymore. But after all, Daena did change, but for the better. Many saw her filled with pride and joy when in reality her children were her real pride and joy.
In the warm glow of the late morning sun, Daena stood at the edge of the courtyard, her heart swelling with a mix of joy and nostalgia. Her three children, vibrant and carefree, darted around the open space, their laughter ringing out like a melodious song. The eldest Baelon, with a sense of responsibility, guided his younger siblings in their imaginative games, while Elaeys was full of boundless energy, led the charge in a playful chase. Alerae, still discovering the world with wide-eyed wonder, toddled after her brothers with an infectious giggle. Watching them, Daena cherished these fleeting moments of innocence and sibling camaraderie. She loved sitting back and watched as her children played together, the sound of her children laughing filled the air, a delightful chorus that danced on the breeze and brought a smile to anyone who heard it.
Their laughter was pure and unrestrained, bubbling up from deep within them and spilling out in joyful bursts. It echoed through the courtyard, weaving between the stacks of hay, and carried a contagious happiness that seemed to brighten the entire day. Each giggle and guffaw was a testament to the boundless joy and simple pleasures of childhood, creating a symphony of mirth that lifted spirits and warmed hearts.
Soon later Gwayne had joined his wife in admiring their children as they mucked around and laughed their hearts away. Gwayne set himself next to Daena who was sat atop a stack of hay picking at the dead skin around her nails. Gwayne had caught on to the Princess and took her hand in his and gently pressed a light kiss on her knuckles, "It is a bad habit," he said before caressing the raw delicate skin around Daena's nail beds and when he scanned over her arms his eyes caught onto a familiar mark on her arm. That damned heart was all Gwayne thought, "What worries you, Daena?" but the thing was, a lot was worrying Daena. Frequent visions and nightmares were occurring and it was starting to scare her, as her children grew their features reminded Daena of the older children that show up in her visions every so often.
