From the Ashes | House of the Dragon

chapter two.

        Daenyra hated sailing. The waves had been harsh this evening, rocking their boat more often than not. She could see her father from here, or rather his dragon. Caraxes flew with grace, leading the pack of dragons to their destination. Driftmark. She wished they were returning on happier circumstances. Vaerion had told her earlier that he was not expecting a warm welcome for their father from the Lord of the Tides this morning. She did not remember him or his wife, the Princess Rhaenys.

        She hated that she was excited to be coming to Westeros, wishing it wasn't for her mother's funeral. Wrapping her cloak around her body, Daenyra went below deck to lay down for the night. Tomorrow would not be an easy day and she knew she needed her rest. Her brother was already abed. She could see that he had left space for her join him if she needed. A soft snore came from him and she giggled as she pulled the blankets aside for herself. She always felt safest with her brother.

—

        The day was gloomy as Daenyra readied herself and her sisters. The three of them had cried this morning, Vaerion had tried to cheer them up but only make it worse with his attempt. Their all black dresses and cloaks had been on for what felt like hours before the ship docked on the island. Immediately, they were met by their father, who led the four children towards a man and woman, both dressed in black.

        "Children, this is Lord Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. Your grandparents." Daemon announced quickly before Rhaenys moved to grab them all in a hug. Daenyra had been worried that she and Vaerion would not be accepted by them, given that the were not Laena's children. She was glad to be wrong. Corlys sent Daemon a nod before joining his wife in embracing their grandchildren. 

        As they were let go, Daenyra could not help but smile at the two adults that stood before her. Rhaenys grabbed one of Rhaena's hands and motioned for everyone to follow her. "Come, it will start soon."

—

        Daenyra had come to the conclusion that Velaryon funeral ceremonies were intense but beautiful. Vaemond Velaryon, her mother's uncle, had spoke in High Valyrian during it and at one point, her father had laughed. She didn't understand why, but then again, she didn't understand a lot about her father. It had been weird, Baela and Rhaena were both in Rhaenys' arms. Vaerion and Daenyra beside their father. They looked like a divided unit. She looked at everyone around her. Her uncle, the King, looked as if he could barely hold himself up for much longer. He was accompanied by the Queen, Alicent Hightower, and she noticed that only five of their six children were present. The eldest, Aegon, was a 'little shit' according to her father. They were all older than her, save for the youngest who was missing. 

        She wished she were anywhere but here, feeling as if everyone's gaze kept finding her own. She would have much rather been practicing with her wooden sword. When she was young, she would wake early to watch her father train Vaerion. One morning, she fell from her hiding place and instead of being angry, Daemon grabbed another practice sword and began to show her how to use it. She had asked if she was allowed, knowing that most highborn ladies stuck to their embroidery and other such talents. "Your ancestor, Visenya Targaryen, was not only a great dragonrider, but a good swordsman too. Just because you are a girl, does not mean that you cannot ride off into war and fight if that is what you wish. If it is, I want you to be ready."  He had told her, and every morning that Vaerion would train, she would be right there beside him.

        Daenyra had asked Baela and Rhaena if they had wished to join, but neither of them showed interest. She was pulled away from the memory as Vaerion grabbed her hand and led her to the half wall that overlooked the sea. It was peaceful now. The sound of people talking faded in the wind as she watched the waves crash onto the shore. A hand on her shoulder broke her gaze from the sea and she turned to see a young women with identical hair to her own in a black and red dress. Rhaenyra.