For Daena, being married was not so different from being unmarried, in truth. She was glad for the fact that no one insisted she and Viserys shared a bedchamber after their wedding night. Her brother would have found out how often she snuck out at night to go into the city with Harwin and Willem, dancing and drinking in disguise, or for midnight flights on Caraxes. Good; she may be his wife, but it was none of his business.

People talk nonetheless, of course, particularly when there was no sign of a child a few years after her wedding to Viserys. At her grandfather's insistence - and why the old bastard had to stick his nose into these matters was beyond her - this led to several excruciating nights a week lying on her back staring at the ceiling whilst her brother tried to avoid looking her in the eye. Blessedly quickly, she became pregnant for the first time when she was six-and-ten.

"I hate being with child," Daena complained to her husband. "I'm fat, swollen and tired. And my feet always hurt,"

"I hate you being with child," Viserys replied. "You were temperamental before, never mind now,"

She scowled at him. "If everyone would stop treating me like a simple-minded child and just let me fly - "

"It isn't safe," Her father looked up from his papers.

"You hypocrite! Mother flew until she was near giving birth, and was back in the skies less than a week later,"

"Your mother, at the time, was not carrying an heir to the throne,"

"Seven hells, I'm hardly asking to carry on sparring," Even Daena knew that this was pushing her luck. "I'm more likely to die of boredom stuck in here than I am on the back of a dragon,"

"Would you even fit into your flying leathers?" Viserys suggested, in perfect seriousness, not even mockingly.

Even Prince Baelon winced.

"Better than you fit into your everyday clothes," Daena said rather pettily. "Your belly grows larger than mine, Brother,"

Neither her father, grandfather nor brother would budge on the matter, and Daena was watched constantly. Even at night, handmaids assigned by her Grandmother - handmaids who were not Seren - were instructed to remain in the room with her, not that she made this a pleasant task. It was suffocating, smothering and she swore that if this child was a boy, she would never go through it again.

She was in such a foul mood than Queen Alysanne had even sent Gael to placate her.

"Just think how wonderful it will be to fly for the first time, once you are free," Her ever-optimistic aunt said.

"Being apart from Caraxes is like being apart from a part of myself," Daena knew none of her friends would understand. Gael did not have a dragon, and Seren, the Strongs and Willem were not Targaryens. How could those in her family who were bonded to a dragon do this to her?

"You always tell me how I'm smothered all the time - it's not so bad, truly,"

"You are seven-and-ten, Gael," Daena said, weary. "You should be getting married, not being forced to be the Queen's little pet. Have you ever asked her?"

"Mother told me not to worry about marriage," The timid girl bit her lip. "I don't know if I'd like it, in truth. Mother has suffered so much, and Alyssa and Daella even died - " She broke off at the look on Daena's face, horrified. "Not that every woman dies in the birthing bed! I am just being a craven, as always. Daena, you're much stronger than me,"

It had not passed her by that her own mother had died birthing her ill-fated younger brother. Moments like this were where Daena would have loved to run to Caraxes and take to the skies to forget all her earthly troubles. Unfortunately, she was stuck here with Gael, her quite probably simple-minded aunt, and two watchful guards.

"If it is a choice between me or the babe," She started. "And Viserys does not choose me, I will haunt him until the end of his days," A pause. "I will not even let him choose - Father will. Father will always choose me,"

Gael, perhaps understandably, had no reply to that.

The birth itself was agony like she'd never felt before. Daena screamed and swore at the top of her lungs, the wound of her mother's death fresh and raw in her mind, hating how scared she was.

"If I die," She clutched at the midwife, wild-eyed. "If I'm dying, you will take me to Caraxes,"

"You aren't dying, Princess," The fat old woman chuckled like she was some ignorant little girl.

"Don't you dare laugh at me, swear it!" She snarled, eyes narrowed, her grip tightening painfully.

The woman looked alarmed at her fervour. "Of course, Princess,"

Her child was born at midnight, a healthy baby girl. Though the midwives fawned over the babe, she herself was not overcome with the rush of love that most mothers described. The red, wrinkled, squalling infant was merely an added annoyance to the pain she was currently experiencing. Not to mention, it was a blow she had not been a boy; she would have to go through this again, for an heir.

"Take her away," Daena groaned, delirious. "Viserys will want to see her,"

With that, she sank into an exhausted sleep, with the vague hope that she would wake up afterwards.

The next day, Viserys woke her with a delighted smile, as he cooed over the now blessedly quiet baby girl in his arms. He looked delighted and had even kissed her on the forehead, even as she scowled up at him. Their father joined them, smiling with a mixture of pride and relief.

"I hope you're grateful," She said. "You should've heard me screaming as I pushed her out,"

"I did," That surprised her, as did Viserys' guilty expression. "I still remember when mother - " He broke off, and their father's face darkened. "I did not hear the whole thing, but... I heard enough. It sounded very painful, and I am grateful," He turned to the baby, face lighting up again. "But it was worth it - isn't she beautiful?"

"She's very red," Daena said, grimacing as her brother passed the girl into her arms. She held the baby awkwardly, not quite sure how to do it. She didn't feel like a mother. The baby felt like someone else's child.

"Believe me, for an infant she is very beautiful indeed," Their father chuckled. "You were much more frightful, Daena,"

She ignored him. "What's she to be called?"

"Rhaenyra," Her brother smiled proudly.

"I suppose you chose that," She snorted at the pretentious name, sharing an amused look with her father, getting used to the weight of the child and pulling back the swaddling clothes to look at her face. "She's got pretty eyes, at least,"

They were a deep, dark purple, unlike Daena's own pale lilac ones. Little Rhaenyra reached out with a chubby fist and gripped her finger, gurgling. Well, that was sweet, she supposed. Daena stared at her. Perhaps the child wasn't so irritating after all. She still didn't feel like hers.

'Not so irritating' was a long way from love, however. She was glad that the babe was kept in a different room, so she could get some sleep and leave the crying and feeding to the nursemaids. Viserys doted on the girl like no father she had ever seen before, so it wasn't like the baby was lonely.

It took Daena a week to recover enough to leave her bed; a week of Gael's twittering, sharing wry jokes with Seren, and exchanging gossip with the Strong sisters. The moment she was able, she went straight to the Dragonpit, only pausing (on a whim) to collect baby Rhaenyra, because why not? (And she did fit into her flying leathers, though they were considerably more tight than they had been before - she resolved to return to the training yard as soon as possible).

Daena strapped the girl to her back like she knew her own mother had done with her, and surprised herself at the care she took in doing so, snapping at the servants to make sure the child was secure and not likely to fall.

Being back on Caraxes was a breath of fresh air after months being trapped in the castle. The smothering of her family, the responsibilities of motherhood and being Viserys' wife, all melted away on the beat of her dragon's wings. The Blood Wyrm was headstrong and half-wild, after months in the Dragonpit, and she let him lead their dance in the sky, a wide grin cracking her face, a laugh escaping from her lips as Caraxes' roar echoed throughout the bay.

Such was her glee at being on dragonback again, she forgot Rhaenyra was there at all, until the girl made a small noise. Daena was alarmed for a moment; that was a hell of a first ride on dragonback, especially for a week-old child, even she knew that. But the girl had not cried once.

"Were you glad to get away from it all as well?" She asked, amused at herself for talking to an infant. She took Rhaenyra's gurgle for a yes. "Let's hope that ugly egg hatches for you, and you'll be flying on your own in no time,"

Her father had gone to Dragonstone on Vhagar and had chosen a yellow egg to put in his granddaughter's cradle. Daena disliked the colour, but Rhaenyra had shrieked in protest when she tried to swap it for a red one, so yellow it was.

When she landed and her baby was unstrapped from her back, it was with a new fondness that she took the girl in her arms instead of handing her back to the expectant nursemaid. Perhaps motherhood was not the worst thing in the world.

Daena realised that she would kill for her daughter some days later, when she entered the nursery to find the baby waving her hands at the tiny yellow dragon hatchling stumbling around her cradle, broken pieces of shell everywhere.

*

Daena being Rhaenyra's mother is certainly a big change. I don't feel like she would take to motherhood naturally, as she would resent being 'chained' by anything. I actually feel bad for Viserys and Daena - they both need to be married to anyone but their sibling haha. Let me know in the comments if you're enjoying this story so far!