Ruin Me

Chapter Twenty Eight

Daenyra had screamed. When the raven arrived, she had screamed herself silly. Her sister had simply had a mere moment of pain before she went still. And then she left. Rhaenyra left before Daemon turned to his wife to tell her that he was dead. The ink was still wet on the parchment, telling them all that Lucerys Velaryon was dead.

It had been a simple task. He had been a messenger. And yet, he had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, for it was the same time and place that Aemond had been in.

The prince and younger brother of the usurper had been treating with the Baratheons himself and had offered himself up in a marriage pact with one of Boros's three daughters. And when Luke had nothing to offer Boros in exchange for his banners, he'd said he'd carry the message to his mother that Boros did not declare for her. Aemond had chosen then to speak. He had chosen then to slide a knife across the floor and demand that Luke cut out his own eye as payment for the sapphire stone that now rested where Aemond's left eye should be. Boros refused to have blood spilt beneath his roof, so the chase continued on dragonback.

Arrax was young. It still made sense that he did not respond well to commands for he was a rebellious teenager. Vhagar, however, was not young. And after Arrax burned her with dragonfire, it did not matter what Aemond said, his dragon was out for blood.

Lucerys never saw it coming as Vhagar's massive jaws came up from underneath him. And even after Aemond sat atop his dragon, full of regret as he watched the remains of Luke and Arrax fall to the seas below the blanket of clouds, he knew that there would be no peace now.

Daenyra had screamed. She had screamed at her husband, wanting nothing more than to have them mount his dragon and go after Vaelon, but they could not. They were needed here, and they had promised to trust their son to complete this task. Daenyra mourned her nephew and was devastated with fear for her son. Daemon could do nothing but hold her as he went with her to the floor as her knees buckled.

They cleared the room after that to give them privacy and only when they were alone did Daemon let water collect in his eyes but never fall. It would be his only admittance to how much his wife's pain hurt him and how much he too feared for her and for their son should anything happen to him.

Logically, they knew that the Vale and the Iron Islands were nowhere near Storm's End, and that no dragon would be able to protect Vaelon better than Myrrax, but still, they worried.

Daenyra had cried and worried herself to the point of exhaustion as Daemon carried his wife to bed. They did not keep to the belief that a lord and lady were to have separate bed chambers, so he laid her to rest on their bed as she slept. And with a kiss to her unmoving lips, Daemon moved to don his armour.

"Take your mount again. We're flying out," Daemon announced as he marched into the Dragonpit where Rhaenys was dismounting Meleys.

"I alone patrol over a hundred miles of open sea, endlessly, to hold the blockade. Meleys must gorge and rest, as must I," Rhaenys said as she walked towards him, pulling the gloves off her hands.

His hand rested on Rhaenys's stomach as he stopped her from walking any further. "We're going to King's Landing."

"To what end?"

"Killing Vhagar," he answered as he let go of Rhaenys. "I cannot face that hoary old bitch alone. With my dragon and yours, we can kill Vhagar and her rider. Make it a son for a son."

"And what does the Princess think of your actions?" Rhaenys wondered.

"She rests, but had she not been abed and had Myrrax not be protecting our son, she would be by my side as we fly. After Lucerys, her fear for her son drove her to the point of exhaustion. Which is why I have come to you."

"And what is the queen's command?"

"The queen remains absent," he stepped past her. "I should be at Harrenhall, bending knees, but I must instead remain here to wage her war."

"Or perhaps more simply to await her return and the return to health of the Lady Hand," Rhaenys said before she turned to face him.

"She has been gone for days. Too long. She is exposed."

"She is grieving."

"The mother grieves while the queen shirks her duties. Leaving them all for my wife to take on when she is sickened with worry and has not had proper chance to deal with grief of her own."

"It was a raven that brought me news of Laena's death," Rhaenys confessed, and Daemon grew still. Even now he still blamed himself. There had been nothing he could do to help the babe along, so he sought to protect his daughters from the sight of their pained mother by escorting them to their rooms. He had been gone only a moment too long. 

"I existed for weeks in torment, refusing to believe what I'd been told." She closed the distance between them. "It was only when I saw my daughter's mortal remains that I could begin to mourn her." Daemon couldn't look at Rhaenys. "A raven has told Rhaenyra that her son is dead. She needs to know for certain."

"She was a fool to go alone. What if Aemond were to happen upon her?"

"Then I would pity Aemond. The queen was wise to recuse herself. She has not acted on the vengeful impulse that others might have."

"If you'd have acted when you had the chance," Daemon said lowly, "Aegon's line would be extinguished. And Luke would be alive."

Rhaenys simply turned and walked away as she continued to pull off her gloves and gauntlets.

"Fly with me."

Rhaenys turned one last time as she angled her head at him. "Your lady wife needs you here, more than she needs Vhagar dead. Perhaps you should consider which is most important to you and the reason why you truly fight this war."

And Daemon was left to stew in her words in the darkness of the Dragonpit.

********************************

Daenyra was existing in a numb state. She had no emotion in her eyes. She could not allow herself to feel because then she would completely come apart. She loved all her children, but she had an attachment to Vaelon that she did not have with her daughters. He carried her through the worst time of her life. He was the hope that she held onto, that allowed her not to break under Bathaeon's hand.

For all the days that Rhaenyra had disappeared, she was a shell of herself, forcing herself to lead her twin's Small Council in her absence. It was a welcome distraction though. Daemon had also been strangely attentive. He was usually very attuned to the needs of his wife but now he seemed to be more so. Daenyra wondered if it had anything to do with his former mistress, Mysaria, turning up on one of the ships they had raided and being brought here to Dragonstone. In reality, Rhaenys's words had hit him harder than intended. His wife had been there for everybody. She had held Rhaenyra's hand at Visenya's funeral. She had consoled Daemon when he was falling apart on that beach. She held their daughters as she told them Viserys had passed. She steadied Vaelon before he departed on his first quest on his own. She had been fierce in her upholding of her sister's wishes in terms of the war. Maintaining the blockade and gathering banners. She hadn't had a single moment to grieve herself. Not for her father, her niece, her nephew. She was a cracked vase just waiting to shatter.

Even when Rhaenyra herself marched into the War Room, she still barely shifted from her place around the Painted Table as Ser Erryk announced her arrival.

"You council stands at the ready, Your Grace," Daemon spoke as they watched Rhaenyra walk to her place at the head of the table. "I will fly to Harrenhal at your command and set our toehold in the Riverlands."

Baela and Rhaena held Daenyra's hands as she gave them a grateful smile. If Vaelon did not return before Daemon left, it would be up to them to keep her standing, to keep her moving forward when she wanted nothing more than to be lost in the abyss of what if's and what could happens.

"Your Grace, my lord husband's blockade of the Gullet moves into place. All seaborne travel and trade to King's Landing will soon be cut off," Rhaneys informed her, but even still, Rhaenyra said nothing.

She stood. She was still as a stone statue as she stared at the Painted Table. She was still saddened and grief-stricken but something in her had hardened. Rhaenyra lifted her chin.

"I want Aemond Targaryen."