Ruin Me

Chapter Thirty Five

At least this time when they parted, Daenyra was able to say goodbye to her husband before they were separated. The panic that had resided in her in the wake of the battle at Rook's Rest had mostly settled and as such allowed for the pain of missing her husband to squeeze at her heart.

She had pressed her head against the nose of Caraxes to say goodbye to a dragon that was also as enamoured with her as his rider was. Daemon's lips were the last thing she touched before she took seat on Myrrax, his foot was still injured from the battle, but his wings were still in perfect condition as they took flight.

Now, she landed in the Dragonpit of her home as she instructed the Dragonkeepers to tend to Myrrax's leg whilst she marched into the War Room.

Rhaenyra was in the middle of a seemingly tense council meeting when her sister walked into the room, her head held high, and her armour still singed.

"Princess Daenyra Targaryen. First of Her Name. Knight Princess. Warrior Blessed. Hand to the Queen and Princess of Dragonstone," Ser Lorrent announced as she removed her gloves.

"Mother!" Vaelon and Baela cried out as they gave no care for the wants of the Queen and bolted out from their seats. They made quick work of the distance between them. Daenyra gave them a warm smile, her arms already held out for them, and she hugged them both tight.

"When you did not return - and Rhaenys fell –" Vaelon began.

"We worried what became of you," Baela finished as she held both their heads to her shoulders.

"Rest easy, my sweet children. I am without injury," she promised as she pulled away from both of them and raised a hand to cup Baela's cheek. "I am so sorry for my absence, but I found myself needing time away to digest what had happened. Particularly the guilt I felt when I realised that there was nothing I could do to help Rhaenys or Meleys against Vhagar. I am so sorry for the loss of your grandmother, Baela."

Tears had welled in the girl's eyes as she averted her eyes for a moment. "Was it painful? Did she suffer?"

"No," Daenyra promised. "It was quick. She went out in dragon flame. She died a rider's death."

"That is good, I suppose," Baela whispered and Daenyra brought her back in for a hug as her other hand still held Vaelon's.

"Tis more than good. The gods will give her peace for a death so valiant."

"Daenyra," said her sister sharply as she stood, cutting in. "You are well?"

"I am well," she answered, but her eyes were stormy like the storms of sand that were whispered to occur in the desert kingdom of Dorne. Daenyra's eyes never left her twins' as her hands slithered down the arms of her children and laced their fingers together. And they walked tall as they flanked their mother. They cut the intimidating figure as Vaelon set his jaw and squared his shoulders whilst Baela tilted her chin higher and added more purpose to her steps; their mother's presence giving them the strength to stand before the Queen as they stood at the opposite end of the Painted Table.

"And where have you been this past day?" Rhaenyra demanded to know.

"I was at Harrenhal, Your Grace," she answered with a small smile. "After the battle, I asked Myrrax to take me home, he misunderstood and instead took me to my husband. Or, perhaps, my dragon knows me too well."

The eyes around the table widened as the men glanced at one another at the mention of the Rogue Prince.

"Do you bring news of the Prince's standing in the Riverlands?" Lord Bartimos asked.

"I do," she spoke smugly, her hands still holding her children's. "My husband and the men of Ser Simon endeavour to repair Harrenhal so that it might house our soon-to-be sizeable host. Several of the Riverlords have already bent the knee, others still require persuading. Daemon is seeing to that. I myself, spoke to the Riverlords in my capacity as Lady Hand. They were beginning to be swayed by my words. Considering the state of Lord Tully's domain, I would say that my husband has made remarkable progress with his task. Our army may yet surpass the Greens."