𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
❝ the crown may command your
hand, but it cannot dictate your heart. ❞
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ IN WHICH lady laenaera was born to princess rhaenys and lord corlys and later on called "the realm's miracle"...
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" 𝓽he weight of oaths"
132 AC KING'S LANDING
THE QUIET OF THE NIGHT HAD SETTLED OVERTHEKEEP, the faint rustle of wind from Blackwater Bay the only sound breaking through the heavy stillness. The chamber, shared by the girls, was dimly lit by the glow of a few dying embers in the hearth. Laenaera sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers absently tracing the embroidery on her blanket, while Alira paced softly across the room. Baela, already lying beneath the covers, watched the slow dance of shadows on the ceiling, her thoughts distant.
It was a silence both familiar and uneasy, like the calm before the storm. They had all felt the shift in the air after the evening's tense dinner. Each of them had heard the words that lingered, unspoken but heavy, as they parted ways for the night. The threat of unrest lay beneath every conversation now, like cracks in a once-strong foundation.
The soft creak of the door broke the silence, drawing the attention of all three girls. Alira paused in her pacing, her brow furrowed as Daemon stepped into the chamber. His presence filled the room, even when he moved quietly. His sharp eyes swept over each of them before settling on Baela.
"Baela, my dear." He said, his voice low and steady, though there was an undeniable tenderness in the way he addressed his daughter. "We're returning to Dragonstone. In a few hours."
The words were simple, but their weight landed heavily on the room. Baela sat up, blinking in surprise, her eyes wide. "So soon?"
Daemon nodded, his expression as unreadable as ever. "It's been decided. We can't linger here any longer. I've spoken with your grandmother, and she agrees. The time has come."
Silently, Baela took in his words, her mind racing. This departure—it was so sudden. "What about Laenaera and Alira?" She asked, her voice a little quieter, more uncertain.
Daemon's gaze flicked toward Laenaera, who had been watching him with careful eyes since the moment he entered. His expression softened slightly as he regarded her. "You'll both come with us," He said, his tone gentler now, as though offering an invitation rather than a command. "I've arranged it with Rhaenys. It's safer if we leave together."
Laenaera, still seated on her bed, met his gaze, her mind running through the implications of his words. She had always felt a loyalty to her mother, and the thought of leaving without her, especially without saying a proper farewell, unsettled her. She knew that Dragonstone offered safety, but her heart tugged her in two directions.
"No." She said quietly but firmly. "I'll stay with my mother tonight. Baela and Alira can go ahead, and we'll join you tomorrow."
Despite a tiny narrowing of his eyes and a brief expression of frustration, Daemon did not argue. He knew the bond Laenaera shared with Rhaenys, and in some ways, it mirrored the connection he had with his own daughters. His respect for that bond held him back from insisting otherwise.
