Year: 125 AC

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With the arrival of Rhaenyra and the rest of Daenys's family, her focus shifted from the complicated situation with Aemond to the impending birth of Helaena's child. The Red Keep was filled with a nervous energy as they waited for the momentous event to unfold.

Daenys found solace in the presence of her siblings, and she eagerly occupied her time by with her brothers. It brought her immense joy to introduce little Viserys and Aegon to Helaena's twins and watch them play together with an innocent enthusiasm, their laughter filling the palace corridors. She also finally managed to discover Daeron's secret affection for the head cook's youngest daughter. She had a knack for prying information from her siblings, and Daeron was no exception. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she wheedled the details out of him and learned about the budding friendship that had been blossoming between him and the girl he had met in the gardens. Once she had the information, Daenys made it her mission to help him in his romantic endeavours, although she teased himself relentlessly for her matchmaking efforts. 

Then the day of Helaena's delivery arrived and it was a tense and terrifying affair. Daenys had been by her side, massaging her shoulders and making playful jokes, when suddenly Helaena groaned in pain. Daenys's initial worry that she had accidentally caused harm was quickly replaced by the realization that the baby was on its way.

From that moment on, everything became a blur of activity. Maesters and midwives rushed in and out of the room as Helaena writhed in pain, her agonized cries filling the air. Amid the chaos, Helaena made a request that took everyone by surprise—she asked Daenys to stay in the room with her, forbidding anyone else, including her own mother Alicent, from entering.

Alicent, though clearly harbouring resentment and frustration, had no choice but to abide by Helaena's wishes. Helaena's will was final, and in the midst of her suffering, she had chosen Daenys as her sole source of comfort and support.

Daenys was overwhelmed by fear as she watched Helaena endure the excruciating pain of childbirth. The room seemed to close in on her, and every scream that tore from Helaena's lips sent a shiver down her spine. The sight of so much blood and the anxious expressions of the maesters and midwives only intensified her anxiety.

Despite her own overwhelming distress, Daenys knew she had to hold herself together for Helaena's sake. She couldn't allow her own emotions to crumble when someone she loved needed her the most. With a determined resolve, she remained at Helaena's side, her hand gripped tightly by her aunt's in a deathlike clutch. 

Helaena was bleeding. She was bleeding and there was nothing the maesters could do to stop it. She clung to Daenys's arm as if she was a lifeline.

"It hurts," she sobbed. "It hurts so much. Make it stop. Please, please make it stop."

Daenys pressed a cold cloth to her forehead, smoothing back her hair to kiss her clammy forehead. The maesters around her muttered amongst themselves and Daenys's heart dropped in her chest. 

"Shhh. You're going to be alright. You have to be alright."

Between her pained groans, Helaena's eyes shone with a moment of clarity. 

"My children...my children...if something happens. Please care for my children. Promise me. If you love me, promise me you'll love them too. Love them like you love me."

Daenys shook her head, tears streaming down her face, "You're going to care for them yourself. You're going to get better. Do you hear me? You have to get better."

"Daenys..."

"Helaena please," her voice reduced to a broken whisper. "What would I do without you? What would I do in a world without you? You can't leave me. I forbid it."

Helaena's responding chuckle was interrupted by a shrill screech of pain. After a few more gasps and deep breaths, she was able to croak out her next words. 

"Feeling a lot of love today are we? Do I have to die then, to get you to admit that I am also the treasure of your eyes, the queen of your heart?"

"Don't even joke about that!" Daenys snapped, bringing her face close to Helaena's. "Don't you ever dare say that again. If you die, I'll fight the gods to bring you back. I'll drag you back from the afterlife myself if I have to. So please...please don't say things like that."

Helaena's eyes had gone unfocused again and all that escaped her lips were faint groans and pleas to make it stop. Just as she slipped out of consciousness, a shrill cry pierced the air, signalling the arrival of the newborn baby. The midwives held up the infant, covered in blood, and the room was filled with a mixture of relief and joy. The birth had been successful, and a new life had entered the world.

However, Daenys could not bring herself to share in the happiness that surrounded the child. Her attention was solely on her unconscious aunt, and she let her tears flow freely as she begged Helaena to wake up. Her voice was filled with desperation and fear, and she clung to Helaena's hand, her grip trembling.

"Please, Helaena," Daenys whispered through her tears, her words choked with emotion. "Wake up. Come back to me. Please."

The room remained filled with the cries of the newborn, but Daenys's world had narrowed down to the woman lying before her, her heart consumed by a profound worry for Helaena's well-being.

The maester's gentle touch on Daenys's shoulder cut through her haze of emotion. With tear-filled eyes, Daenys turned to him, her voice quivering as she asked the question that weighed heavily on her heart.

"Will she be alright?" she pleaded, her concern etched on her face.

The maester offered a small, comforting nod and a faint smile. 

"Yes," he replied, his voice filled with a measure of relief. "Thankfully, she will recover, but she needs rest. She has lost a lot of blood, but with time and care, she should regain her strength."

Daenys exhaled a shaky breath, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over her. She continued to hold Helaena's hand, even as the room began to clear out and the maidservants began to clean her up. Soon, other members of the family began to filter into the room, eager to meet the newborn child. Among them was Alicent, whose initial resentment and frustration toward Daenys had been evident earlier. However, as she witnessed the devoted way Daenys clutched Helaena's hand, a change came over her. Alicent's face softened, and she approached Daenys with a rare gentle smile. Running a hand through her hair, she whispered a heartfelt word of gratitude. She urged Daenys to go rest and get cleaned up, assuring her that she would watch over Helaena in the meantime. Daenys nodded in agreement, recognizing the need for privacy between mother and daughter

As Daenys stumbled towards her chambers, her hands trembling and stained with Helaena's blood, a wave of terror washed over her. The harrowing experience in the birthing room had left her shaken to her core, and the vivid image of Helaena in pain haunted her. In her disoriented state, she ran into Aemond. His hands came up to grip her shoulders and steady her but she wasn't really paying attention. He looked at her with concern, his gaze searching her wide-eyed, fearful expression. 

"Is Helaena alright?" he inquired, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Gods you're shaking. What's wrong?"

Daenys nodded, unable to find her voice just yet. They both understood that now was not the time to engage in their usual arguments and so a temporary truce seemed to be declared between them.

"Daenys, look at me. If Helaena's alright, then what's wrong?"

She continued to shake her head frantically, unable to form a coherent response. With a sense of helplessness, she eventually stumbled away from him and retreated to her chambers. She slumped to the floor, her emotions finally overcoming her as tears flowed freely. She pulled her knees to her chest and sobbed, not caring if she got blood all over her dress. 

Hours later, Dyana entered Daenys's chambers and was met with a sight that filled her with concern. The bedraggled princess was still slumped on the floor, her eyes red from crying, her clothes dishevelled and stained. Dyana rushed over to her, kneeling beside her.

"Daenys, are you alright?" Dyana asked, her voice laced with worry as she gently touched her trembling shoulder, forgetting formalities in her panic. 

Daenys, her eyes distant and lost in her thoughts, barely registered Dyana's presence at first. But when her friend's words finally broke through the haze of her distress, she looked up blearily and nodded weakly.

Dyana sighed with relief but continued to fuss over her. 

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," she said gently, helping Daenys to her feet. She began to assist her in undressing, her touch tender and reassuring.

Daenys allowed Dyana to guide her, her mind still clouded. She didn't realize until it was too late that she had always bathed alone ever since the passing of Laenor. 

In the quiet of the bathing chamber, Dyana didn't utter a single word as she helped Daenys clean herself. She could see the rows upon rows of tally marks etched into the princess's arms and legs, but her touch was gentle. She wiped away the blood from her hands and face, the remnants of the distressing day's events. Then she washed Daenys's damp, sweaty hair, her fingers moving with a soothing rhythm. As she worked, Dyana's eyes couldn't help but linger on the scars that marred Daenys's skin. Her heart ached for her friend, and she handled those areas with extra care, as if she feared Daenys might break beneath her touch.

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever for, Princess."

"I told you you don't have to call me that when it's just us."

Dyana sighed, "You have nothing to be sorry for Daenys."

"You probably have more than enough work to do. And here I am being a nuisance."

"You can never be a nuisance to me."

"You don't have to say that."

"I mean every word, Daenys."

Daenys gave her a small smile, "I like it when you say my name. Perhaps I should be sad more often, then you'd stop using honorifics."

Dyana rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Let us not get ahead of ourselves, Princess."

"Tsk tsk, again with the princess."

As Dyana helped Daenys into a fresh gown, the atmosphere in the room began to lighten. Daenys had been through an emotional ordeal, and the simple act of changing into a new garment brought a sense of renewal.

"Tell me," Daenys finally asked about her aunt. "How is Helaena? Is she alright?"

Dyana smiled warmly at her friend, her fingers deftly fastening the gown, "Princess Helaena is doing well. And the new babe... His name is Maelor. He's a healthy little boy."

"Maelor," Daenys repeated with a soft smile.

"Yes. And she's asked for you to come meet her and the baby. It would mean a lot to her."

Daenys took a moment to gather her thoughts before uttering what had been marinating in her head the entire day. However, once the words were out of her mouth, Dyana looked at her with mild horror at first, and then she started laughing. 

"Just answer my question," Daenys snapped with a roll of her eyes. 

"Sorry, Princess," her friend wheezed. "I just didn't realize all this baby business would bring such thoughts to your head."

"That's not it!"

"Oh come now. Who is it? Surely there must be someone due to whom you are even asking about such a thing."

Dyana's eyes widened as if coming to a conclusion.

"Is it the prince?"

Daenys felt her ears burn with embarrassment, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"It is, isn't it?" Dyana crowed with laughter. "Don't play dumb with me, Daenys. It's the prince. The two of you-"

"No! I'm telling you it's not like that at all!"

"No! By the gods, is it the other prince then? He's a married man!"

Daenys sighed exasperatedly at her friend's relentlessly. Then she made a face of disgust at her insinuation. 

"Ew, I would never bed Aegon!" she exclaimed indignantly. "How dare you ever assume such a repulsive thing?"

"Yes, I didn't think so either if I'm being honest. It must be the second prince. He's a little terrifying for my tastes but if you have taken a liking to him, then that is your choice. Although I didn't realize the two of you were on speaking terms after that argument of yours, much less-"

"Stop! Please, stop," Daenys shook her head frantically. "I'm not bedding Aemond either!"

"Is it another man?" Dyana's eyes bulged out of their sockets as her mouth dropped open. "Well I'm not one to judge but you might wish to be cautious there. The prince seems to have his eye on you and I pity the poor fellow who thinks he might have a chance with you."

Daenys dropped to her knees in front of her friend dramatically, clasping her hands together as if in supplication or to beg. 

"Dyana, enough! I beg you. No more jokes. I am not bedding anyone. I just want to make sure that I can never be with child. Ever. Not now, and not in the future when I will inevitably have to be married off to whoever serves as the best political alliance to my mother."

Dyana's eyes narrowed, "That is dangerous talk for someone who is the heir to the Iron Throne, Princess."

"I don't want to be the heir!" Daenys's voice came out in a whispered scream. "I never have, and I certainly don't want to anymore. I do not want the responsibility that comes with it."

"You have no other choice."

"It isn't fair. Were I born a man, I wouldn't have to suffer so. I could live my life as I please. I would not have to sacrifice my life for a child I may never even get to see."

Dyana frowned and knelt beside the princess, "You are right. It would be easier if we were born men. But we were not. I'm afraid we women don't get much choice when it comes to such matters. It is the way of the world."

"I do not care for the way of the world. I will make my own way in the world!"

"Will you become a septa then?"

"That isn't fair though, is it?" Daenys scoffed. "If I wish to lead a life without bearing children then my only choice is to become a septa? What kind of nonsense is that?"

"You are a princess, Daenys. There is no escaping your fate. It is your duty. We can never escape our duties," Dyana looked down, a faraway sad look in her eyes. "Believe me, no matter how hard we try."

"But I do not wish to. I do not care if I am being selfish. It is my life. I should be allowed to be selfish with it, shouldn't I? Why should I have to suffer through months upon months of swollen ankles and sickness and then spend hours bleeding and screaming just to bring into the world a child I don't even want? It's not like I'm the only Targaryen in the world, it's not like my bloodline will die out if I choose not to reproduce. Why is this burden mine to carry, just because I am a woman?"

"When you put it like that..."

Daenys looked away guiltily, her tone self-deprecating, "Look at me. You must think me pathetic. Spoilt princess complaining about her lot in life when so many would kill to be in my place. I am sorry."

Dyana smiled kindly, "What did we say about the apologies, Princess."

"Thank you for putting u with me, Dyana."

"Anything for you, Princess."

Dyana pressed a kiss to her cheek and pulled her to a standing position, leading her out of her room to go visit Helaena. 

"And to answer your question. I reckon the ladies on the street of silk might have what you're looking for," she winked. "Although I don't suppose you'll allow me to accompany you."

"I can't risk you getting in trouble, Dyana."

"Figured as much."

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The night was shrouded in darkness as Daenys prepared for her clandestine mission. The Red Keep was eerily quiet, with only the faintest whispers of torchlight flickering in the corridors. Her new guard, Ser Atticus, had been officially assigned to watch over her, and the task of evading him weighed heavily on her. Daenys dressed in borrowed clothing from Dyana, the inconspicuous plain tunic and trousers concealing her identity and her striking silver hair. She pulled a hood over her head, ensuring that her distinctive features remained hidden. 

As she stood in her chambers, she watched Ser Atticus from the corner of her eye. He stood guard just outside her door, his attention momentarily diverted as he scanned the hallway. It was the perfect opportunity. She moved with quiet grace, her steps soft and deliberate as she slipped out of her room, closing the door behind her with the utmost care. The faint creak of the door hinge threatened to betray her, but Ser Atticus remained unaware for the moment. 

She made her way down the corridor, heart pounding in her chest, until she reached the end of the hall. There, hidden from sight, was the secret passageway she had come to know so well. She hesitated for a brief moment, her hand trembling as she reached for the concealed latch. With a quiet, practiced touch, she triggered the mechanism, revealing the hidden entrance. The passageway beckoned its darkness a promise of freedom. With one last glance back at her room, Daenys stepped into the shadows and disappeared into the labyrinthine depths of the Red Keep.

As Daenys ventured further into the winding passageways of the Red Keep, the darkness enveloped her, making her journey a perilous one. She moved with cautious steps, her hands lightly brushing the cold stone walls, feeling her way forward in the almost complete pitch-blackness. The air was dank and heavy with the scent of dampness and age. Despite the passage of time since her last escapade through these hidden tunnels, Daenys found herself relieved to discover that her familiarity with the pathways had not faded. She navigated the corridors with a sense of confidence, her memory serving as her guide through the bowels of the castle.

Eventually, after a series of twists and turns, Daenys emerged from one of the side hidden entrances of the castle. The cool night air greeted her as she stepped into the open, the relative freedom outside the castle walls beckoning to her. Unbeknownst to her, a tall, shadowed figure had been silently tailing her, keeping to the edges of darkness and maintaining a discreet distance. The figure's presence went unnoticed as Daenys made her way toward Flea Bottom, her thoughts consumed by the goal that had driven her to venture beyond the Red Keep's walls.

Walking through the winding streets of the district, Daenys decided to abandon any pretense of a direct route and instead allowed herself to wander aimlessly through the bustling area. The sights, sounds, and smells of the crowded slum overwhelmed her senses, creating an entirely different world from the tranquil halls of the Red Keep and the majestic solitude of Dragonstone.

Under her concealing hood, Daenys's eyes grew wide as she took in the chaotic scenes before her. The narrow, grimy alleyways were filled with a cacophony of voices, a constant hum of activity that was both bewildering and intriguing. Shanty buildings, their walls worn and weathered, leaned precariously over the cobblestone streets. Laundry lines crisscrossed above her head, adorned with colourful garments that fluttered in the night breeze.

The aromas of street vendors' cooking filled the air, mixing with less savoury scents of decay and refuse. Daenys's nose wrinkled at the mingling odours, a stark contrast to the fragrant gardens of Dragonstone. Flea Bottom was a place of stark contrast and undeniable life. Despite the poverty and squalor that surrounded her, there was a vitality to the district that Daenys couldn't help but find captivating. Daenys continued to meander through the maze of alleyways, her curiosity driving her forward. She allowed herself to become distracted by the makeshift stalls and curious curiosities that lined the streets, watching the interactions of the people who called this place home. 

She kept her eyes averted from the more promiscuous activities also taking place out in the open and eventually after much meandering around, she came to a place she believed to be a brothel. The dimly lit building with a slightly disreputable appearance seemed to match the descriptions she had heard. Daenys paused at the entrance, her hood pulled low, casting a cautious glance around, ensuring that no one was watching her too closely. The street was bustling with people going about their business, and she blended into the crowd seamlessly.

With a deep breath and her heart racing, Daenys took her chance and slipped inside the establishment, her movements careful and inconspicuous. The interior was dimly lit, the atmosphere hushed and filled with whispers and other stranger sounds she didn't want to think about. The scent of incense hung in the air, masking some of the other less savoury odours.

As she moved further into the brothel, Daenys kept to the shadows, her eyes darting around in search of any sign or person who might have the information she sought. The patrons and workers in the establishment were engrossed in their own activities, their attention diverted from the newcomer in the dimly lit corners. 

Just then, an unexpected touch on her shoulder sent a jolt of adrenaline through Daenys, causing her to jump in surprise. Quickly regaining her composure, she turned toward the source of the contact, finding herself face-to-face with a woman of more elaborate dress and an air of authority that left no doubt in her mind—this woman was the owner of the establishment.

The owner, her gaze sharp and assessing, regarded Daenys with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Her voice was crisp and commanding as she questioned the princess's presence in her brothel.

"Why are you lurking around here so suspiciously?" she demanded, her tone leaving no room for equivocation. Her dark eyes bore into Daenys, her demeanour a clear indication that she was not one to be trifled with.

Daenys, her heart still racing from the surprise encounter, knew she had to tread carefully. She nervously pulled the hood lower over her face to conceal her eyes.

"I apologize if I seemed out of place. I meant no harm. I was just...I wonder if you could help me."

"And why should I help you with anything?"

With deliberate slowness, she reached into her cloak, producing a small, heavy pouch that clinked with the sound of coins as she shook it gently.

Her voice was soft and persuasive, Daenys spoke again, "I understand your hesitation, but perhaps we can come to an arrangement. I would be more than willing to compensate you for your assistance."

The owner's eyes flickered toward the pouch, her curiosity piqued by the weighty promise it held. She raised an eyebrow, her expression calculating as she considered Daenys's proposal.

"You some fancy noble or something? You don't speak like you belong here," she scoffed skeptically, not entirely convinced by Daenys's offer.

Daenys held the pouch out toward the owner, her grip firm but not forceful. 

"This is for your troubles," she said, her voice sincere. "I'm in search of information, and I believe you may be able to help me. Your discretion in this matter will be greatly appreciated."

The owner eyed the pouch once more, the desire for profit ultimately outweighing her initial reservations. With a nod of agreement, she reached out to accept the pouch from Daenys's outstretched hand.

"Very well," she replied, her tone softened by the prospect of coin. "What is it you seek?"

Once Daenys made her request the woman laughed as if it was an absurd request. She stepped closer toward Daenys, trying to peer at her face beneath the hood. 

"You sound young," she smirked. "Planning to engage in some physical activity are we?"

Daenys felt a blush spread up her neck and set her cheeks aflame, "It isn't like that."

"Well, whatever it is, surely even you nobles have moon tea and such for the matters like what you speak of."

"I-I was looking for something more permanent."

"More permanent hmm? I suppose there is an herb some of my girls use. Poisons your womb from the inside. You'd never have a child for as long as you live."

Daenys's eyes lit up, "Yes, that'll do!"

"Oh, you sweet summer child. Aren't you naive? It is not for the faint of heart. It'll poison you too."

"I don't care. I'll take the risk."

"Are you sure? I won't be held responsible for killing some posh princess because she wanted to fuck a servant and not carry his bastard."

Her crass words made Daenys flinch and she shrank into her cloak even more. 

"I'll take the risk," she repeated firmly. 

The woman looked at the pouch of coins in her hand and shrugged, "Fine by me. A woman's gotta do what a woman's gotta do, I suppose."

"Uh...how much would I need?"

The owner led Daenys deeper into the dimly lit recesses of the brothel, her footsteps echoing faintly in the narrow corridor. The air was thick and shadows danced along the walls as they moved toward a private room tucked away from prying eyes. Once inside the secluded chamber, the owner turned her attention to a cluttered shelf, her hands deftly sifting through various bottles and flasks until she retrieved a small, round flask the size of her fist. Its contents were a dark crimson, the colour of rust and decay and old blood. With a serious expression, she held out the flask to Daenys, her voice hushed and confidential.

"Three drops of this every day until your monthly courses cease," she instructed, her tone laced with a sense of gravitas. "If, by that time, your body hasn't succumbed to it, then you should have what you desire."

Daenys accepted the flask, her fingers brushing against the cool glass.

"Thank you," Daenys whispered, her voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. She tucked the flask safely into her cloak, her mind filled with the weight of the owner's words and the enigmatic solution she had been offered.

As Daenys made her way toward the exit, she exchanged a final nod with the brothel owner, who offered a conspiratorial wink and a reminder that she could be found should she require further assistance. However, as she neared the exit, the rebellious strands of her silver hair escaped from her hood, glinting in the dim light.

Her presence did not go unnoticed by a drunk, half-dressed man who had been lingering in one of the corners. His gaze, blurred with intoxication, was drawn to the shimmering hair that cascaded from her hood. He stumbled in her direction, his leering eyes fixed on the mesmerizing sight.

With an unsteady swagger, the man approached Daenys, a sly grin forming on his lips. He extended an invitation, his words slurred and suggestive. 

"Greetings, fair lady, why don't you forget about your troubles and spend the night with me?"

Daenys's heart quickened, her nervousness evident in her pace as she attempted to reach the exit. She glanced briefly at the man, her face carefully veiled beneath the hood. 

"I appreciate the offer," she replied, her voice steady but with a hint of unease, "but I must decline. I have other matters to attend to."

The man, undeterred by her polite rejection, continued to follow her with a persistent and lecherous gaze. Daenys quickened her pace, desperate to put distance between herself and the unwelcome stranger. The dimly lit corridors seemed to close in on her, and she was desperate to avoid any confrontation and reach the safety of the bustling streets outside.

Daenys's heart pounded in terror as she reached the brothel's exit, the fingers of the unwelcome stranger closing in on her wrist like a vice. Panic surged through her as she realized the man was about to lay hands on her, and she prepared to pull out the hidden dagger she kept strapped under her cloak. Just as the stranger's grimy hand was about to make contact, she felt herself being forcefully pulled away into an adjacent alleyway. A scream rose in her throat but it was abruptly stifled as a hand clamped over her mouth, muffling the sound. Her wide eyes darted around, filled with fear, and she instinctively struggled against her unseen assailant.

She tried to bite the hand that covered her mouth, and her legs thrashed in an attempt to break free, but the grip on her waist was unyielding as the stranger in front of her pressed her against the rough surface of the wall. The drunken man stumbled past them, still calling out to her. 

Then a familiar voice hissed at her through gritted teeth, desperation in his voice, "Stop struggling dam it! You'll attract more attention!"

It was Aemond.

Though the recognition brought a sense of relief, Daenys remained tense, her eyes locked onto his. Panic and confusion gripped her, and a sinking fear crept into her mind. Did he follow her here? Why was he in Flea Bottom? How much of her meeting had he witnessed? 

Aemond's expression was one of seething fury as he regarded her, his eyes burning with a barely restrained anger. Daenys's heart hammered in her chest, and she couldn't help but wonder how he had even known she was there.

In a voice that was as stern as it was cautious, Aemond spoke to her, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. 

"I'll release you but only if you promise not to scream. And promise you won't run away or do anything else stupid."

Daenys nodded slowly. She knew that, for now, she had little choice but to comply with his demands. Aemond lowered his hand from her mouth, but the bruising grip on her waist remained. 

"What, and I cannot emphasize this enough, the fuck are you doing here?"

"I don't owe you any answers," she glared back at him defiantly. 

"Seven hells Daenys, this is a brothel. Why are you at a brothel of all places?"

"Well, I could ask you the same thing. What brings you to this charming establishment, Aemond?"

"This place is dangerous! You could have been harmed or worse. You should never have come here alone."

"It's none of your concern where I go or with whom I choose to associate."

Aemond's frustration flared as Daenys continued to resist his inquiries. He leaned in closer, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that bordered on exasperation. 

"You're being reckless. You need to understand the dangers of this place."

Daenys, however, met his intensity with a stubborn resolve. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin, "I don't need a lecture from you, Aemond. I can take care of myself."

"Oh yeah, it sure seemed like you could take care of yourself a few minutes ago."

"I had that handled. I did not need you to step in."

Aemond's jaw clenched and he exhaled deeply. 

"You have no idea how foolish you're being," he retorted.

"And you have no right to judge me or my choices."

As Daenys's mouth curled into a snarl, Aemond found himself suddenly overwhelmed by a powerful and unexpected urge. The heat of their argument seemed to melt away, replaced by a surge of desire that gripped him with a fiery intensity.

He couldn't help but be captivated by the sight before him. In the dim light of the dark alleyway, she looked utterly dazzling. Her hood had fallen back, revealing her pale hair that tumbled into her face. Her eyes blazed with anger and defiance, and her lips, slightly parted as she prepared to fire off another retort, held an enticing allure.

Aemond's gaze locked onto her face, his heart racing as he felt an overwhelming urge to bridge the distance between them. He longed to silence her with a kiss, to pull her close and lose himself in the intoxication of the moment. if he kissed her she would not be able to argue with him anymore or infuriate him the way she currently was, although he supposed she would infuriate him in other ways then.

Daenys rolled her eyes, and scoffed, taking his silence as an indication that she had won their argument and her behaviour only fueled Aemond's frustration further. He watched as she moved to push his hands off her waist, clearly intent on making her way back toward the castle. But he couldn't allow that, not after what he had seen and felt in the midst of their argument.

Before she could take another step, Aemond's grip tightened, his fingers closing firmly around her wrist. 

She looked at him with indignation, her eyes narrowing as she demanded, "What do you think you're doing?"

Aemond met her gaze with a calm determination that belied the turbulent emotions swirling within him. 

"I'm not letting you out of my sight again tonight," he stated firmly.

The tension between them crackled as his words hung in the air, his grip on her wrist a physical declaration of his intent. He simply couldn't bear the thought of her wandering off into the dangerous streets of Flea Bottom alone.

Daenys let out a sigh of resignation, realizing that she had little choice but to acquiesce to Aemond's insistence on accompanying her back to the castle. His grip on her arm, though firm, had a reassuring warmth to it that she couldn't deny, and she found herself strangely comforted by his presence.

With a nod, she agreed to follow him, and Aemond led her through the streets of Flea Bottom, his strides slow and measured to ensure she could keep up. As they navigated the bustling and vibrant thoroughfares, Daenys couldn't help but be momentarily distracted by the colourful sights and tantalizing aromas of the vendors lining the streets. Aemond, ever the vigilant, gently guided her back on track whenever her attention wandered. His touch, though guiding, was never forceful, and it became evident that he was determined to see her safely back to the Red Keep.

"So...how'd you know where to find me?" she muttered curiously. 

"You aren't very good at sneaking around, Daenys."

"Hmm, you're right. I need to practice more," she said with a wink that had him scowling again. 

"No, you do not. You're going to be the death of your poor new guard. He seemed frantic when he discovered he had lost you on his first day. Pathetic."

"Don't speak that way about Ser Atticus. It isn't his fault I am so skilled in the art of escape."

"Sure you are. And I am secretly the prince of Pentos."

"Who knows, maybe you are."

Aemond sighed, "His Grace was looking for you."

"Aw, is that why you came looking for me? I thought you hated me. What was it you said, leave you be, and it was for the best that we didn't keep in touch."

Daenys shook pulled her wrist away from him and instantly she missed the warmth of his fingers on her skin. Still, she glowered at him and tucked her hands back in her cloak. Aemond seemed to be at a loss of words. Regret flashed through his eye but he didn't say anything and an awkward silence fell over them. 

"His Grace wishes to hold a feast. In a few days," he finally spoke. 

"Ah, to celebrate Maelor's birth I suppose?"

"Well yes, and your name day as well."

"My name day?"

Against his better judgment, a chuckle escaped Aemond's lips.

"Yes, Daenys, your name day. Did you forget your own name day?"

"I did not forget. I just didn't think..."

"Well, His Grace wishes to hold a grand celebration for it."

"That sounds lovely," Daenys glanced at him slyly from the corner of her eye. "I suppose I shall be getting one of your signature death glares from you as my present."

Aemond hummed non-committally. 

When they finally reached the Red Keep and found themselves standing in the hallway that led to Daenys's chambers, an awkward silence settled between them. Aemond, unable to resist, reached out and gently wiped away a smudge of dirt from Daenys's cheek. His touch was soft and fleeting, but it ignited a warmth within her that she couldn't ignore. 

With a faint but genuine smile, Aemond bid her farewell. Daenys, however, couldn't help herself. She spoke up, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness, "I'll be looking forward to that name-day present of yours, death glare and all."

As Aemond turned to leave, Daenys watched him go, a mixture of emotions swirling within her. Perhaps, she thought, there was hope that they might find their way back to being friends after all.

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A/N: Not really proofread cuz it's kinda long. Hope yall enjoyed the multiple updates lol <3As usual, don't be a ghost reader. I love reading yalls thoughts so plz share ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)