THE SOUL'S EXCHANGE

Waves of Love

Upon reaching Dragonstone, the majesty of the ancient fortress took Alicent’s breath away. The volcanic stone walls, worn by centuries of wind and salt, stood proud against the wild sea, and the dragonlord legacy seeped into every corner of the island. The waves crashed rhythmically against the shore, and the distant roars of dragons echoed faintly in the cool night air. She marveled at the sheer beauty and power of the place, feeling the weight of history in the stones beneath her feet.

Daemon, with Sirion nestled comfortably in his arms, guided them inside, his hand tightly wrapped around Alicent’s as she carried Aegon. Caraxes had already settled in his pit, the great beast curling into his familiar place. Daemon led them through the winding halls of the fortress until they reached the master’s chambers—the ancient room of Aegon The Conqueror, one of the first dragonlords to claim the island as his own, and lead the Targaryenrise to power. The room was vast, with high ceilings and tapestries depicting Valyrian conquests.

Attached to the grand chamber was a small nursery, clearly designed for children, and both Aegon and Sirilon—worn out from their journey—began to fuss, their tired cries breaking the quiet peace of the room. Exhaustion had made them cranky, and despite Alicent’s best efforts, she struggled to hold them both at once and soothe their growing restlessness.

Daemon stepped forward, his hands firm yet gentle as he took Aegon from her arms. “Come, let me help you, my Līria,” he whispered, guiding her toward the balcony where the sea breeze swept through, carrying the calming scent of salt and waves.

As they stood there, Daemon began to hum softly, the melody rising in the air. Then, in a voice low and melodic, he began to sing a lullaby in High Valyrian, his voice a gentle wave lulling the children to sleep.

“Nyke syt nykeā drīve, Zaldrīzes ēngos, ēbrie rūvē, Hāros se valar zāltan embri, Sȳrī kesan gūrogon, perzot issa.”

(Translation:
"I sing of the night,
Dragons fly, the world bows,
Kings and heroes conquer the skies,
Together we rise, for the fire is ours.”)

The words, though foreign to her, were mesmerizing. Alicent’s eyes welled with tears as she watched Daemon cradle Sirion in his arms, his voice carrying a deep tenderness that she never imagined he was capable of. The combination of the lullaby, the soft cool air of the sea, and the warmth of Daemon’s voice lulled both Aegon and Cereon into a peaceful slumber. Slowly, their little eyes closed, their breathing becoming slow and steady as they finally succumbed to sleep.

Daemon pressed a gentle kiss to Cereon’s forehead before turning back to Alicent. His free hand slipped around her waist, pulling her closer as he guided her into the nursery. Carefully, he laid Sirion in his crib, adjusting the blankets around him. Then, he took Aegon from her arms and gently placed him in the crib beside his brother, his movements tender and precise.

Alicent stood back, watching him with a full heart. This was the man she was falling in love with—the one who was fierce and unyielding in battle, yet soft and protective with their children, yes they were his, his by bond, by soul. The sight of him, their sons safely asleep, filled her with a deep sense of contentment she had rarely known.

She felt the need to express her gratitude and affection. Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed a light, almost shy kiss to Daemon’s lips—a kiss that was chaste yet filled with emotion.

Daemon raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a teasing smile. “Don’t start a game you cannot continue, kitten,” he murmured, his voice a low growl as his grip on her waist tightened, his hands sliding down to rest on her hips, holding her firmly against him.

Alicent laughed, pushing him back with playful defiance. “Who are you calling a kitten? I am a lioness,” she retorted, her eyes flashing with challenge as she turned to run, her heart racing with excitement.