The Darkness of Day

Dan and Daemon: The Long Bridge

Dan and Daemon

"You know, you didn't have to snap at her."

The trek out to Fishmongers Square was a quick one once the children could find their way out of the busy central atrium of the Merchant's Inn. As they went down to the innkeeper, asking for the appropriate amount of sums to buy their errands, Dan had turned to Daemon with a confused look as they stepped outside.

"What are you talking about?"

"Mother." People rush past as Dan looks down at the list, trying to figure out where they were going. "What you said to her earlier."

Dan sighs as they walk forward, heading down the rows and rows of merchants selling their items. "Alright, and why do you say that?" She turns to him. "You saw the same thing I saw. He saved her. Why would someone be so afraid of someone who saved them?"

"Because you don't know the whole story," Daemon states, crossing his arms across his chest. "You've only ever known your father. I've known my mother. She's told me so many stories of what happened when they were beyond the wall, or fighting the White Walkers." They walk over to the first merchant – a man with a Volantian Sword – before handing him the coin he asked for. Once done, the grabbed a bag and placed it in it, a clothe one that would hopefully help them on their journeys.

"Then tell me," Dan states, turning to him.

"What?"

"You say I'm missing some of the story. If you know more about them, then tell me. Because I'm sick of the fighting. For a whole entire month, I could never get them in the same room together. Barely even glance at each other. I want us to be a family – I've never known anyone else besides my father and the wildlings my whole life. I always thought I was an only child but now I find out that my mother is alive? And that I have a brother? That's amazing. And yet I can't have it, because they've barely spoken."

He could sense her frustration and anger, and he understood it too. "I know," he states, grabbing her arm before she could walk off. "I want them to be happy too, but you can't stand there and say that father's done everything - that he's never done anything bad. He's not perfect. Do you want to know what's happened to my mother? She's risked her lives countless times for him too. She lost one of her dragons to the White Walkers for him. She lost some of her closest friends for him. She lost most of her army for him, fighting his fight, something she had no idea about before she met him. And let's not forget the cherry on top of the pie – she was killed by him."

"Would you stop holding that against him?" she snaps. "I understand the others. I understand that she lost a lot of what she was trying to achieve. But do not defend your mother for burning thousands of innocent lives and expect me to apologize for my father killing her. Anyone in that situation wouldn't know what the heck to do!"

"I've told you she doesn't remember."

"Even if she doesn't, it still happened," she states, her frown evident on her cheeks. "It's just something we're going to have to deal with. And the sooner we deal with it, the quicker." She pays for the next item – turns out a grilled tot were just cooked potatoes – and moves on. She looks over at him. "Our parents aren't perfect. They've both made mistakes. The sooner we accept that, the better. I just wish they would accept it and move on."

Daemon nods, walking ahead of her as they look for the next merchant. As they walk, he looks down at her, nodding back at the inn. "So your father told me he taught you how to fight. Is that true?"

She nods quietly, paying for the next item as they walked. "For as long as I can remember. Why?" She smirks at him as she places the next item in her bag. "Jealous that I keep knocking you on your butt?"