"There will be no hymns to your glory. History will cut your throat and bury you in an unmarked grave as you deserve."

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

"You weren't there."

"What."

"I needed you and you weren't there, Daenys."

"Luke...?"

Daenys blinked rapidly, trying to clear her head, feeling as though it was stuffed full of cotton. It took her a moment to recognize her surroundings as it had been a while since she had last been there, but she was back in her chambers at the Red Keep. It was a surreal experience, made all the more bizarre by the lurking presence of her brother, standing just a few feet in front of her looking exactly the same as she had last seen him. 

She could see him so clearly, clearer than she had been able to in a while, his dark hair a stark contrast to his pale skin, wearing the formal attire he had donned at her wedding feast. He looked so real, Daenys almost sobbed with relief. 

The last few weeks must have been some awful dream then. Lucerys was alive and well and he was here in King's Landing to take her home. They would greet their mother together and everything would be alright. She took a hasty step toward him, to embrace him, to hold him, to touch him to make sure he was real. He took a step back.

"Luke...?"

When he did not respond, her smile slipped off her face. His boyish young face was impassive and cold. He stared at her with what she could only describe as thinly veiled disgust.

"Luke, what's wrong? Are you angry with me?"

"You were not there!" he spat out again, his brows furrowing in a melancholy frown.

"I wasn't where? You know I'll always be there for you, just say the word."

"Save it, your lies are of no more use to me now. You did not come for me the one time I truly needed you."

"No..."

"Now I am dead. What use are empty promises."

Daenys collapsed to her knees, her heart hammering in her chest, her grief and guilt flooding her eyes—she had them both now— and streaming down her face. No, no this could not be. It was like losing him all over again.

"I...I am sorry. I am so so sorry. I wanted to be there. I swear it. If I had known, I would have been there."

"That does not matter now though, does it?" Luke looked down at her with hatred burning in his eyes. "YOU. WERE. NOT. THERE!"

"I didn't know. I didn't know I was never going to see you again. I didn't know," Daenys sobbed, shaking her head frantically.

"I thought of you, you know. That final minute before your husband's dragon swallowed me, I thought of you. I made a promise to you, to see you on your name day. I was going to keep my promise, but you never kept yours. I thought of you but I doubt I even crossed your mind as you were too busy playing house here with the enemies."

He gestured to the empty chambers around him. 

"That's not true. I thought of you. I think of you every day. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY!"

Luke had started crying too, despite his best efforts to resist, and Daenys ached to hold him, to brush away his tears and comfort him. 

"Do not lie to me. Have you no shame, lying to you dead brother?"

"I'm not lying. I swear I am not lying," a strangled wail burst out of her, clawing up her throat leaving only carnage in its wake. 

She crawled closer to him, on her knees like a repentant sinner. She reached for the dagger at her belt, knowing what she was about to do even before her hands completed the actions. 

"You betrayed me!"

"I would never do that. You know I would never do that, Luke."

Without hesitation she placed the dagger against her left eye, slicing through, making a mess of her face once again, all for the brother she could never bring back. It did not hurt this time, but the memory of it stung, the act of prying apart jagged torn flesh to reach into her skull and grab ahold of her own organ. Glittering amethyst, a feature of her Valyrian heritage she hated herself for bearing if her brothers did not, slick with blood and gore, slippery under her fingers as she fought to pry it out. It was a stubborn thing, clinging to her as one clung to life in the throes of death. She dug her nails deeper into the soft flesh, into the very viscera of herself, and ripped it free, feeling as if something else had been wrenched from her too, some part of her sanity. 

"See," she whispered, almost manic in her fervour, "I would do anything for you."

She presented it to him then, still on her knees, still a repentant sinner of the worst kind, begging to an indifferent god for salvation, for forgiveness she did not deserve. 

This time he did not step away, instead choosing to kneel at her side. He took her hands in his, turning her upturned palms into fists, crushing her eye between their joined hands as if proving the futility of her sacrifice. 

"It is not enough. It means nothing."

Daenys shook her head frantically, even as the threads of something came loose within her, even as blood and whatever else eyes were made of leaked between the hairsbreadth of space between their fingers. 

"You are so desperate to be a martyr, aren't you," her brother sneered cruelly. "So desperate to sacrifice everything so your pain can eclipse your guilt. So you do not have to face what you have done, what you have allowed to happen."

Her brother never would have said such a thing. Luke could never have been so cruel. 

"Stop it, please."

"So busy grieving that past that you forget to mourn the present. Do you even mourn our dead sister or our grandfather? Do you mourn our mother and all that she has lost? Our brothers and sisters and their torment? Even in suffering, you are selfish."

It was as if he had slapped her, struck the very breath from her lungs. It wasn't fair. She did mourn them. She mourned all of them, but she was only human. There was only so much she could bear, and already she was going mad. 

It wasn't fair. 

But then again, none of it was. 

"If you really thought of me, you would have avenged me," he brought his face close to hers, his voice bitter. "You had countless opportunities to do so and yet you still haven't killed him. After all that he has done, you still love him."

"I do not," she stammered. "I cannot!"

"So you are a liar as well as a craven."

"Lucerys, don't..."

"You should have killed him then. You should have killed him...because he took me away from you. How could you let him take me away."

"I-I'm sorry."

"What kind of sister are you? You were supposed to protect me. You were my most beloved sister, you were supposed to love me. You were supposed to save me."

Daenys could not bear to watch her darling little brother's lamentations. Her heart twisted at the pain in his words, the cracking of his voice. She pulled him into an embrace, her chin on his shoulder and her arms around him. He tried to pull away but she held on tight.

"I'm sorry. Gods, I am so so sorry," she pleaded.

"Do not touch me! I hate you, I hate you so much that I'd die all over again to escape you! Let go of me!"

He thrashed in her hold, beating her with his fists and she welcomed it. He felt so real, so solid. She would stay here for all of eternity, holding him like this, even if it meant having to listen to his hateful declarations forever. Eventually, all the fight drained out of him and he slumped forward, his forehead resting on her shoulder. His tears soaked her nightgown and Daenys could feel her heart tearing. She could almost hear the sound of it, like the sound of a piece of parchment being pulled apart or the sound of cracking stone. It echoed through her chest and a sob escaped her lips.

"I needed you and you didn't save me. Why didn't you come to save me, Daenys?" Luke looked up at her with mournful eyes, tears clinging to his lashes. He was beautiful. He was so beautiful, he couldn't possibly be real. Some sort of otherworldly creature not meant for the cruel reality of their world.

"I'm sorry. I would have come. Had I known, I swear I would have come in a heartbeat. If I had heard you call, I would have come."

"I don't think I will ever forgive you."

"That's okay. You don't have to."

"I'll haunt you," he promised, his voice trembling. "I will haunt you forever and you will never be free of me. This is the price you will pay for letting me die."

"Haunt me then," Daenys nodded solemnly, wiping the tears from his face gently. "If that is to be my atonement, then so be it. If it means you will be with me always, drive me mad if you like. Only do not leave me. Do not forget about me, and do not let me forget you."

"You don't deserve my memory!" there was no heat in his voice, only resigned exhaustion.

"I do not. I do not but grant me this small mercy. If it means you will keep coming back and I will get to see you again, I will bear it all for your sake."

Her brother did not say anything, and when Daenys looked down, she saw that he had closed his eyes. She shook him and his head lolled slightly, falling back against her arm. She shifted her position to cradle him better, he was growing heavier.

"Luke...Luke, please wake up. Don't go," she shook him harder.

He was limp. The blood from her eye was still streaming down her face, dripping onto his porcelain cheek, staining him with her wretchedness. 

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

She wiped it with the back of her hand. 

"No, no, no. Lucerys, wake up. Don't leave me. Don't leave me again, please."

Her shoulders shook as she clutched him closer, muffling her violent sobs in his hair. She held him like that for a while, like a tether, like a barbed wire to the flesh, until he grew impossibly heavy, her arms quivering with effort to hold him up. She pulled away to look at him properly and she suppressed a scream. His skin was a pale shade of blue-green, bloated and discoloured. His clothes were water-logged as if he'd been dragged from the very depths of the sea. Only his hands remained his own, alabaster white and oh-so-delicate like they had been when he was born. The room filled with the sick stench of rotting flesh and yet Daenys still held him against her, she could not bear to let go.

He was her brother. She had carried far heavier weights. He was her brother, and he was a burden she could bear, even if it came with the relentless onslaught of guilt. 

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

The sound of incessant knocking awoke Daenys and she jolted up with a gasp. Her surroundings were unfamiliar at first, hindered further by what could only be a terrible hangover raging in her skull. In flashes, she remembered mounting her dragon at some ridiculous hour and making her way back to Dragonstone from Storm's End despite Cassandra's many protests. Still, it was better that she returned home under the cover of night with no one to witness her unravelled state. 

Now, she was back in her chambers at Dragonstone, her pillow soaked through with tears and sweat plastered her hair to her face and neck. She wiped the wetness from her face but was surprised to see it still leaking from her eyes. It was a dream. She couldn't quite remember the details, but she had seen her brother. He was there, and he had spoken to her. By the gods, if she could only remember what he had said. The only remnant of the dream was the overwhelming grief. 

Her breaths came out in gasps and there was a chasm where her heart was supposed to be, a dark emptiness in the space between her ribs that felt like it was collapsing in on itself. Still, she held onto the hollow because it was the only thing that fit his shape, the closest thing she had to having him with her. 

The knocking on her door increased in urgency and she looked toward the source of the sound in exasperation. The sheets had become knotted around her, ensnaring her in a cocoon of sorts and she had to wrestle her way out of them with some difficulty to pad across the carpeted floor to the door.

Daenys opened the door abruptly, "The hour is late..."

Her youngest brother Viserys stood outside, his fist still raised to knock, looking slightly out of breath. The sight of him startled her, his pale hair glinting in the darkness. Some things never changed, something in her chest stitched itself back together at the thought that whatever else happened her siblings still came to her door when they needed something. 

In the past it was Luke who found himself there most often, to crawl under her sheets and seek comfort, particularly after their father's passing. The rest of them came too for a myriad of reasons, often in the dead of night, ever since they were young children. Jace to practice his High Valyrian, Joffrey to insist that he plaster his artistic creations all over her walls, Rhaena to warm her dragon's egg by her fireplace, and Baela when she wanted to complain or ask for advice. 

"Viserys?" she muttered. "Is everything alright?"

"We saw you come back," the young boy of seven responded quietly. 

"Oh. I see. But what are you doing here at this time? You should be in bed."

"We can't sleep."

"We?" Daenys peered around him, expecting to see her other siblings but the hallway behind him remained silent and empty. 

"They're waiting for you."

"Who are they?"

Viserys ignored her question, "We drew straws and they made me come and get you. I hate the dark but I ran very very fast so now you have to come."

"Do I now?"

Her brother nodded solemnly, grabbing ahold of her hand to begin pulling her outside. Almost instinctually Daenys dropped to her knees and pulled him into a fierce embrace. He squirmed in her grip but she only held on tighter. The memory of Luke's teary eyes flashed in her mind and it made her cling to her youngest brother like he was a lifeline. At least he was here and he was real and he was alive.

"You're going to flatten me like a pastry, Daenys. Let go!" he protested around a mouthful of her hair. "And besides, we have to get going."

Daenys pulled back and pressed a kiss to his cheek which he wiped away aggressively, "It is the middle of the night. What could you possibly want to do right now?"

"Come with me."

"Where?"

"Stop asking questions and just come already," a whine crept into his voice.

Daenys cast a look back into the uninviting darkness of her chambers and decided she did not wish to return to them. It was not like she could go back to sleep anyway, and she couldn't say no to her brother's pleading eyes. She closed the door softly behind her and allowed Viserys to lead her away.

"Wait why are we going to Jace's room? Don't tell me you've awoken him too?"

"You will see," was all he said in response.

It seemed as though everyone had gathered in her brother's chambers. He and Baela sat in the middle of his bed, with their backs against the headboard and Baela's head on his shoulder. Jace's eyes were swollen and rimmed in red, evident even in the flickering candlelight. Rhaena was curled up at her sister's side, her head on her lap as Baela traced the lines on her palm. Aegon was against Jace's side while Joffrey sat at the foot of the bed, arms crossed and looking sullen. There was an air of melancholy that permeated the air, thick and cloying because seeing them all together like that was a stark reminder of the one person they were missing. 

"I have brought her!" Viserys announced, dragging her to Rhaena's side. 

Begrudgingly Rhaena handed him a wrapped confectionary for his troubles, shuffling over to give Daenys room. After some hesitation, when she perched herself on the bed, the younger dragon twin lifted her head from her sister's lap to place it in Daenys's instead. 

"I've missed you," she mumbled. "Everyone has been out and about lately, and I never get to see any of you anymore."

"I missed you too Rhaena," Daenys patted her shoulder. 

Meanwhile, Viserys scrambled up to jump squarely on top of his brother. Aegon grunted at the impact and pushed him away but Viserys held on. Everyone watched the two boys play wrestle, finding some comfort in the fact that all the grief hadn't properly taken root in their young hearts. 

"Are you angry with me?" Daenys finally asked Joffrey, who had been pointedly avoiding her gaze. 

He reached out and poked at the reddened skin under her uninjured eye, ignoring her question. 

"You've been crying," he stated matter-of-factly.

"No I have not," she shot back.

"Yes, you have."

"Have not."

Daenys moved to pull him onto her lap in an attempt to pacify him, but Rhaena swatted her arm, pulling it to instead wrap around her own shoulders. 

"No, tonight I lay claim to your affections sister," she mumbled morosely. 

"Leave her be Rhaena, or she'll start spending even more time away from Dragonstone, away from us," Baela chided. 

"You know that's not why I go right," Daenys frowned. "I do not wish to be away from you all."

"I know. We just miss you."

Daenys did not miss the connotation in Baela's voice. 

We miss who you used to be.

Who did she used to be? Someone who looked after them, who asked after them, who cared for them. A snippet of her dream came back to her with startling clarity. 

Selfish. 

Luke had called her selfish. Her pain had made her selfish. Withdrawing from the rest of her siblings who no doubt grieved as well, and in their sorrow had become even closer while she drifted further apart. 

What a selfish and terrible creature.

"You're in your head again," Baela mumbled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I only meant that you should not feel as though you cannot tell us things. You can share how you feel. Let us comfort you as you have always done with us."

"I know."

Daenys sighed, leaning back to lie down and settle her legs on top of Jace's which he promptly kicked away.

"Watch it!"

Jace rolled his eyes in response but his smug look was replaced by an indignant one when Baela pinched his side.

"Do not kick your sister," she admonished.

"Yes Baela," he replied sheepishly but sent another half-hearted kick toward her when his betrothed turned her head.

"I'm going to toss you off the bed if you kick me again," Daenys grumbled under her breath.

"You cannot do that, it is my bed. You are the one who is in my chambers."

She grabbed his foot and gave it an experimental yank, "Watch me, brother."

"Stop fighting or I shall leave," Baela's tone was serious but she fought back a small amused smile.

"No don't leave," Jace responded quickly.

It wasn't easy being like this, pretending as if everything was alright, but it was worth it to see the shadows lifted from her siblings' eyes momentarily. It was as if her mood set the tone, and their melancholy vigil had turned into something a little more lighthearted. 

"Yes, listen to your future queen Jace," Daenys teased.

"Why is my wife on your side then, if she is to be my queen?"

"Perhaps I just like Daenys better than you. Have you considered that Jacaerys?" Baela raised an eyebrow. 

"Perhaps you should marry her then if you like her better."

Daenys forced a smile and clasped Baela's hand, "Maybe I shall steal her from you then dear brother."

"You cannot do that, she is my betrothed!"

"By the gods, I had no idea I was this popular," Baela glanced between the two siblings. "Now I have two suitors vying for my hand."

"Oh but you'll choose me, won't you Baela? Say you will choose me, I could not bear the thought of you marrying anyone else."

Jace glared at his sister and Baela kissed his cheek to mollify him.

"You know I will always choose you, Jacaerys. Nothing will change that."

Rhaena nudged her sharply in the ribs and faked a gag, "Please, go to your private chambers for that. No one wants to see that in here."

"These are my private chambers, Rhaena."

"Silence, Jace," Daenys pinched his foot. "And Baela, you have wounded me, my lady. Is this poor humble knight not enough for you? Is that why you would choose a prince over me?"

Viserys laughed at her words, "Silly, silly, sister. You are not a knight."

"I could very well be if I wished—"

Aegon crawled over to her and pressed his hand over her mouth to silence her, eliciting an incredulous chuckle from her—a real one at that. With her quiet, he began twisting strands of her hair in his fingers. Daenys's hair had come undone in her fitful sleep, and she watched with amusement as her brother tried to re-braid it. He huffed in frustration when the strands would not stay in place and unravelled the moment his hand let go of them.

"Rhaena, teach me how to do it please," he said turning toward his sister.

"I'd rather not. I am rather comfortable in my current position."

"Lazy!"

Rhanea snorted, tugging on a lock of his pale hair, "You'll learn soon enough Aegon, your hair is growing out too."

"No. I shall cut it then."

"And why is that, dearest brother?" Daenys pinched his cheek. 

"Because Jace, Luke, and Jof keep theirs short," Aegon responded, the names slipping off his tongue so naturally it brought everyone to a halt. "If my brothers keep it short, then so shall I."

No one spoke for a moment, suddenly faced with the terrible reminder that Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey were no longer the trio they once were. Even Aegon's expression fell, as if realizing what he had said, his own words sinking in his chest. It did not feel real, that his beloved brother would never come home again, that they would never again play as they used to. 

Then his stomach rumbled and the spell for broken. Aegon lowered his head, half in embarrassment, half in an attempt to hide the tears that welled in his eyes. 

"Someone is hungry," Daenys said in a forced lighthearted tone. "Perhaps we might raid the kitchens." 

"It is not my fault that dinner was a while ago," Aegon retorted, but his voice was desolate. 

"Would you like to accompany me then?"

Everyone avoided her searching gaze as she stood, the warmth of the candlelit chambers too enticing to leave behind. 

"I'll come with you," Viserys chirped, standing at the edge of the bed. "On one condition."

"And what might that be?"

"Be my dragon!"

"Excuse me?"

"You are excused," Viserys nodded sagely, patting her bicep before raising his arms in the air. "Now, up!"

"What do you mean up?"

"He wants you to carry him on your shoulders, Daenys," Joffrey chimed in with an exasperated sigh. "Like Father sometimes does."

"Yes, well I am not—I do not think I could—"

"But my egg hasn't hatched yet," Viserys whined again. "It isn't fair. All of you have your own dragons and I don't. Come, please Daenys. Give me a ride!"

"Neither has mine," Rhaena rolled her eyes, "You don't see me asking her to carry me around."

A smile tugged at Daenys's lips, "If you made the request, I am certain I could find a way to oblige."

"And break both of our bones in the process? No, thank you, sister."

"Will you take me or not?" Viserys interrupted impatiently. 

"How about I give you a ride on Silverwing? She's a real dragon."

"Will you let me ride Silverwing alone?"

"You know you can't ride someone else's dragon on your own, Viserys," Baela interrupted.

"Then it'll be no fun if you're the one in charge, Daenys."

Viserys harrumphed. The youngest prince was not used to being refused by anyone, particularly his sisters, and he knew exactly how to leverage his power. 

"Alright then, but if I drop you, that is going to be entirely your fault," Daenys sighed, crouching in front of him so he could climb on. 

"You would never drop me. Sisters are supposed to keep their little brothers safe."

No one missed the twitch of their oldest sister's single eye at his words but they remained thankfully silent about it. Daenys grabbed him under his arms and hoisted him onto her shoulders. Her muscles shuddered in protest and there was a sharp stinging in her side at the movement but she tried her best to disguise the trembling.

"Are you sure you should be doing that? You don't look so good," Joffrey eyed her in concern.

"Worry not, I am perfectly well. You know I can't say no to Viserys, so let's give our little prince his ride."

"Yay! Dohaeris!"

Daenys grabbed onto his ankles that hung over her shoulders and tugged, "Oi, you little—you cannot tell your sister to serve you."

"Sorry, Daenys," he chorused in response. "Upward and onward then."

"There is no going up Viserys. This is as tall as I'm ever going to be. Now would anyone else like to accompany us."

Aegon clambered off as well, grabbing her hand, "I shall come too then. It is dark, so I will be your other eye. The maesters say my vision is excellent."

This prompted a genuine laugh from Daenys, startled and absurd. This entire exchange was so utterly absurd it didn't feel real. How one such as her deserves such a loving family, such devoted siblings, she did not know, but it reminded her that she needed to do whatever she could to protect what she had left. 

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

No one returned to their respective chambers that night, each of them far happier in the company of the others. After their brief midnight snack of cakes that Daenys and their two youngest brothers pilfered from the kitchens, they spent the rest of the night conversing about one thing or another, carefully avoiding the one topic neither of them could bear to bring up. 

The next morning, when Daenys made her way to the great hall for the scheduled council meeting she was surprised to find it empty, save for Jace who was hunched over the painted table in the centre, examining the various markers upon it. He was no doubt trying to figure out how to gather more allies, and he gave her a small smile when he caught her eye. There was another person in the room as well, almost unnoticeable, standing still in the shadows,  

"Ser Atticus."

"Princess," the knight bowed his head and then frowned. "You left me behind."

Daenys ducked her head sheepishly, "I apologize. I was in such a hurry that I forgot to mention it."

"You do know as your sworn knight, I am responsible for your wellbeing, something I cannot do if you go gallivanting around the kingdom on your dragon."

"You have my sincerest apology, Ser Atticus. I did not mean to cause you to worry."

The brunette knight eyed her suspiciously, "You have been acting strange lately. I worry for your mental state as well."

Forcing out an amused chuckle, Daenys shrugged, "Is this your way of calling me crazy?"

"Oh, you know I could never."

"Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, first of her name, queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm," a squire announced announcing the arrival of their sovereign, followed by the rest of the council members and Baela and Rhaena who came to stand on either side of Jace. 

"Daenys, what news do you bring from Harrenhal?" her mother turned her attention to her first, and although she had long since cleaned up from her mess of the previous night, she still felt unnerved by her scrutiny. 

"The Riverlands have been secured, my queen, and the Brackens finally defeated. The Prince Consort remains at Harrenhal maintain our stronghold there."

"Your Grace," Jace added, "Lady Jeyne Arryn and the knights of the Vale shall also stand by you but she requests dragons to be sent to her for protection."

"Very well, that can be arranged. As for the sea, we have the Velaryon fleet and the Greens have the support of the Lannister fleet. We should send word to Lord Dalton Greyjoy of the Iron Isles, perhaps he can be persuaded to join us."

"Lord Dalton has a fearsome reputation. I am certain he will fight with us if we appeal to his bloodlust," Baela nodded. 

"What of Dorne? Can a message be sent there as well?"

Lord Corlys frowned, "Prince Qoren Martell fought the War for the Stepstones. He was in support of the Triarchy against the Prince Consort and I. I fear old grudges may prevent new alliances."

In this manner, talk of coalitions continued as various lords shared their thoughts and strategies. Daenys tried her best to pay attention to every word being said but eventually, her attention wandered and her eye drifted across the room. She caught sight of Jace and Baela's entwined hands under the table and she smiled. Her family knew how to love, that was for certain. She then turned her attention to her mother and it was clear from the dark shadows under her eyes and the tired lines on her forehead, that she was still recovering from the funerals of her children as well as the aftereffects of the difficult childbirth. She looked as if she had aged years in mere days, and yet she stood with her head held high, looking every inch of the queen she was meant to be. 

Lost in her worry for her mother, Daenys did not notice the room emptying as the meeting was adjourned. It was happening increasingly often now, this sudden loss of time and disconnect between her physical self. Whether an hour had passed or mere moments, she wasn't entirely sure but she was startled when her mother appeared in front of her, placing her hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the touch, blinking rapidly. 

"You reside more in your head than in our world these days," Rhaenyra sighed. "Let me walk with you to your chambers." 

The princess nodded mutely, and they started walking together through the winding corridors. The silence between them was heavy with unspoken worries and shared burdens. The flickering torchlight cast dancing shadows on the walls and the rhythmic sound of their footsteps echoed in the stillness. It felt as though they could be the only inhabitants of the castle, or perhaps Daenyus was going deaf and simply could not hear the bustle of activity around them. 

As they arrived at her chambers, a servant approached them, bowing deeply before extending a small, neatly sealed envelope to her. 

"A message for you, princess."

Daenys took the envelope, her curiosity piqued. She broke the seal and unfolded the parchment inside, her eyes scanning the familiar elegant script.

"What does it say?" Rhaenyra asked, watching her daughter closely.

"It...is an invitation."

"An invitation? For what?"

"A wedding. In Dorne. Princess Aliandra Martell is to wed a Lord Edgar Yronwood," Daenys frowned, her voice holding a note of disbelief. "How strange to receive an invitation in these times."

"Why would it be strange? Is the Dornish princess not one of your acquaintances?"

It took Daenys a moment to place the name, the recent events wreaking havoc on her memory. The Dornish princess was indeed one of her acquaintances. They had first met back when the Martells had visited King's Landing when King Viserys was attempting to ally with Dorne. The alliance fell through, but the two princesses remained friends, writing to once or twice a moon. 

It had been very long since Daenys had written back to the Martell girl's last letter, she realized with shame. 

"During a war? I could not possibly attend a wedding now."

Rhaenyra shrugged lightly, her expression thoughtful, "Perhaps it will be an opportunity."

Daenys looked at her mother incredulously, "An opportunity? To what end?"

"An alliance perhaps. A conversation at the very least, if nothing more."

"Oh."

"Although, if you are to go, I expect you to conduct yourself with the utmost dignity and restraint."

Daenys swallowed, a bitter taste flooding her mouth. Of course, she warranted such a warning. She had been exceedingly reckless lately. 

"Worry not Mother, I shall be the very picture of amiability. Not a single casualty."

"I expect nothing less."

The corners of Rhaenyra's mouth lifted slightly and Daenys's heart ached at the sight of it.

"Mother, are you alright?"

"No...yes...I do not know. I just missed you, that is all."

"I am right here Mother. I will always be right here."

"I know. When we left you in King's Landing after the wedding, I didn't realize just how much I'd miss you. I had never been away from you from the moment you were born and all of a sudden we were miles apart. Rhaena and Baela were truly a solace during such a time. I adore my sons, but I was always meant to have daughters I think. Thankfully the gods saw fit to bless me with three."

"They are good daughters, Rhaena and Baela," Daenys nodded. "Much better than whatever pathetic excuse of a person I turned out to be."

"No," Rhaenyra snapped, tears in her eyes as she grabbed her jaw, both gentle and firm at the same time. "You will not say such things."

"Mother—"

"No! I hate to hear you go on so. To hear you speak in such a way about yourself, for it is not yourself you are insulting, but something of mine. I will not have you slander my daughter like that. I will not stand for it."

"I don't know how else to bear it."

"You must find a way. We all must. Though, I truly wish this wasn't the way things turned out to be. I wish you would be able to just live your life unburdened by such troubles, peacefully with those you love."

"I am with those I love. There is no one I love more than you or my family. No one in the world."

"I do not doubt it."

Rhaenyra pulled Daenys's trembling frame into her chest, carding her fingers through her hair soothingly, "You do not have to prove your loyalty to me. There is nothing in the world I want more than your safety and your happiness."

"My happiness is in yours Mother, and I will do whatever it takes."

"You do not have to do that, don't you understand?" she pulled away to meet her gaze. "You forget that before anything else, you are my daughter. Not my protector, not my warrior or champion, not my executioner. You are my daughter. And you have done everything right just by existing. There is nothing else you must do, except stay alive."

"I do not deserve to. How can I go on knowing that—that I have failed my brother."

"You did not fail anyone, Daenys."

"I did. I was his sister, his protector. I failed him"

"Darling, in what language has sister ever meant protector? When did a sister stop being simply someone who loves? And you have fulfilled your obligations in that aspect. You have loved him so deeply."

"But I couldn't save him."

Rhaenyra swallowed thickly, "If love could have saved him, he would have been immortal. There was no one in Westeros, I am convinced, so loved as our Lucerys, with so many who cherished him, but love cannot bring about immortality."

"He will not forgive me," the words broke free of her, halfway between a strangled wail and a please. "He will never forgive me."

"You do him a great disservice with such thoughts. Your brother was a gentle and kind boy. He could never hold a grudge, you know this as well as I do. He would never hold such a thing against you, particularly since it was not your fault."

"But—"

"It is you who must forgive first. The world's forgiveness means nothing at all if you cannot forgive yourself."

Daenys did not respond, choosing instead to remain enveloped in her mother's arms, feeling like a little girl once again. Rhaenyra rested her chin on her head, squeezing her against her chest so that she could hear the calming sound of her heart. Daenys's agitated heartbeat eventually slowed to match the pace of her mother's, their breathing in sync. Pulling back to wipe away all remnants of her tears, the queen kissed her cheek, right under her scarred eye.

A god blessing a disciple with favour. 

"My brave beautiful girl. You must put it down. You must put down your guilt. You will not survive if you do not."

It only made Daenys feel worse. Her god had told her she was forgiven, but the words had only succeeded in splitting her further open, exposing the horrific hollow that lay in the center, biding its time until it could swallow her whole. 

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A/N: lol I had my playlist on shuffle so I literally went through enhypen, the nbhd and angsty instrumentals, so this chapter might be all over the place. Dorne arc in like a chapter or two so yay for that. Sry for all the depression lately, this is becoming less a Daenys x Aemond story and more Daenys x mental illness lol. someone free her. 

As usual, don't be a ghost reader. I live for yalls comments/questions/concerns/reactions, even a keyboard smash is highly appreciated and encouraged!