Chapter Text
Daemon had spent the last three days abed; three arrows had struck him and one had grown infectious. Once the Crabfeeder’s blood has been cleaned off him the maester had slathered his wounds with salve and bandaged him, he had fallen into a feverish sleep. He came twice a day until Daemon’s fever broke and his injuries had been cleared out of foul-smelling puss.
The fire that had consumed him since he had read his brother's missive had been extinguished with their victory. For three years they had fought to break the Triarchy’s hold on the Stepstones but with Dorne’s assistance the war just continued to stretch on. Then Vaemond, the Sea Snake’s younger brother, pleads for the Crown's help and his elder brother finally gives in. Two thousand war ships and more supplies than their party has seen in years were inbound. He knew that it was Otto trying to swoop in and claim the victory.
The fires wanted to rekindle in his chest.
He took a sharp breath and released it slowly. His injuries burned and ached painfully from the action. Daemon wondered if he grew any angrier if he could breathe fire?
In the distance he could hear Caraxes call.
“My Prince…”
Daemon opened his eyes and watched as a messenger eased slowly into the room. It would seem that his outburst before the final confrontation with the Crabfeeder had reached the ears of many.
“Hm?”
“New from Runestone. Marked urgent, My Prince.”
He barely avoided rolling his eyes and took the missive from the trembling fingers of the messenger. “You may leave.” Daemon dismissed the boy before he pissed himself.
“Thank you, My Prince.” the younger man practically fled as if Daemon’s tent was on fire.
Daemon would have laughed if he didn’t feel so rotten. So he settled for breaking the wax seal and unrolling the parchment. His eyes grew wider at the news. His lady wife, The Bronzed Bitch had fallen from her horse and it would seem that the Seven’s Stranger would be claiming her soon. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he stared at the Lord of Runestone’s script.
They were like oil and water. Acid and fire. His grandmother had been pleased by the match between his elder brother and his good sister, Aemma. And when Lady Rhea Royce, her cousin, had been introduced at court his hand had been auctioned off unceremoniously. He had resented the match as much as she had. A small, infinitesimal part of him had hoped in the beginning that they would at least warm to one another and come to some sort of agreement but the notion had been savagely set aflame very quickly. It had not taken long for them to become estranged.
Daemon dragged a hand down his face and released a long exhale. It would seem that he would be released from their farce of a marriage far sooner than he realized. Especially since his brother couldn’t be bothered to release them. Heaving himself up, he sat at his desk and wrote a short reply that the war was over and he would leave for Runestone within the day.
On his way to the Sea Snake’s tent, he brought his missive to the rookery.
The Sea Snake’s tent was near the center of the encampment. The remains of his sell sword army had been released from their bounds and had packed up and left. All that remained were Velaryon tents for as far as the eye could see. Sea-green fabric with silver seahorses. He wished he knew which tent Vaemond was staying in because he had a mind to set it aflame. With a growl, he nodded to the two guards outside the Sea Snake’s tent and pushed through the fabric.
“My Prince! I am glad to see you on your feet once more!” The Sea Snake called, standing in greeting.
By his side was his son Laenor and his younger brother Vaemond. Daemon liked Laenor well enough, the boy was a capable warrior and confident on dragonback. He was the person who had come up with the plan for Daemon to play bait and draw the attention of Crabfeeder’s army. He could have fed Vaemond to Caraxes and would have enjoyed every moment of it.
He clasped the Sea Snake’s right hand in greeting before taking a cup of wine for himself. “You have very capable maester’s in your charge, Sea Snake.”
Lord Corlys resumed his seat first after Daemon first sat, Vaemond and Laenor settled next.
The Sea Snake reached out and set something in front of him. “You’ve been named King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea.”
It was a driftwood and shell crown. Both ugly and beautiful. Daemon smirked as he reached for the circlet. In the corner of his eye he saw Vaemond’s lip curl up in a half-snarl. The curse of the Second Son, he thought. It was something he understood well.
“Interesting.” He said before setting the circlet down and taking a long drink from the cup. “However, I must depart soon. A missive from Runestone arrived. It would seem my wife managed to fall off her horse and gravely injure herself.”
Corlys nodded but didn’t offer any empty platitudes. This was why Daemon had preferred the Sea Snake to all of his elder brother’s advisors. Save only for Lord Beesbury. The old man, faithful to the Targaryen’s was often at odds with Otto and was steadfast in his loyalty to Viserys.
The Sea Snake was married to Daemon’s cousin, Princess Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was. A woman that he was devoted to. Although he understood the conflict between Daemon and his own wife.
“I pray she finds peace soon then.” The Sea Snake said. He was no follower of the Seven. But Daemon nodded, accepting the sympathies given.
“Once I settle her affairs, I make for King’s Landing to inform the King of our victory.”
“We shall depart for Driftmark soon. I’ll leave a garrison of men here but we will need the Crown to build better accommodations in the future. I doubt we have seen the last of the Triarchy.”
Daemon nodded. “Or all this will have been for naught.”
They supped well that night and by morning, he had chopped his long silver mane off, dressed in his red and black riding leathers, secured Dark Sister to his belt and departed the Stepstones for the first time in three years.
Caraxes’ flew towards Runestone, making quick timing. Daemon directed him to land in the spot where he usually stayed on the rare occasions that he was forced to attempt reconciliations with the Bronzed Bitch. His brother refused to annul their marriage and it infuriated the both of them greatly. A servant was waiting for him and immediately led him inside. Lord Royce, Rhea’s uncle, was waiting outside a bedroom next to a maester.
“My Prince.” They bowed their heads.
“What happened? I received the missive but…it did not go into great detail.”
The maester cleared his throat. “Lady Rhea was thrown from horseback with her horse landing on top of her…her spine has been snapped and her head battered.”
“And she still lives?” Daemon couldn’t help but be surprised by her hardiness.
A normal person would have succumbed to those wounds…but leave it to Rhea Royce to spitefully hold on to life still. She was probably cursing the Stranger.
The maester nodded. “She does. For the moment. However she has not woken since we found her, nor can she keep any food or drink down.”
“Is she in pain?”
“Not that we can tell.”
Daemon stared at the closed bedroom door for a moment. “Can I see her?”
“Of course. However…the reason we called for you so urgently…is another matter. We’ll discuss when you step out.” Lord Royce said his answer, raising Daemon’s hackles as he stepped into his wife’s bedchamber.
It looked the same as it had the last three times he had ever seen it. Through the cluttered space of her parlor, he pushed the last door to her actual bedroom. Rhea Royce, fiery in her hatred and spiteful of her circumstances. A tongue sharper than Valyrian steel. She was unforgiving and unrepentant.
Daemon had never seen her so quiet. She wore a plain chemise, the bronze colored bedclothes a stark contrast against her fair skin. While her shoulder-length hair lacked their usually thick set of wavy curls. Her eyes were closed. She looked…peaceful.
Her stillness reminded him a lot of his mother’s before she had died.
Daemon turned on his heel and left the room quietly.
As he pushed the bedchamber door closed behind him he turned to face Lord Royce and his usually scowling features. “What matter?”
“The matter of your daughter.” Lord Royce stared at him in his growing confusion, watching his expression carefully. “You received a missive from Rhea did you not?”
“I did not.”
He had only bedded Rhea three times. Once on their wedding night. And the other two times were when he had been forced to make reconciliations.
Lord Royce cleared his throat, his demeanor growing more uncomfortable by the minute. “Come, you should meet your daughter then.”
Daemon followed like a leashed puppet. In a bedroom down the hall that looked like a standard nursery, a maid was seated on the floor on a plush rug by the fire. She was playing with a little girl.
“Alysanne,” Lord Royce called. “Come meet your father.”
A little girl, no older than two and half Nameday’s toddled over dressed in a bronze and black colored day dress. Her hair was the same shade of silver as his own but her eyes…her eyes reminded him of his mothers. One was a hazel green and the other violet. It was the same exact set as his mothers.
Daemon dropped to his knees, his heart heavy with old pain. Staring at the daughter he had not known existed made him miss the mother he had not seen in many decades.
Little Alysanne blinked those dual-colored eyes at him and then simply toddled the rest of the way over; her little arms wrapping around his shoulders as she hugged him. Daemon realized that he had not been hugged in a very long time. He wrapped his arms around her tiny, pudgy form and hugged back. She smelt of lavenders and lilacs and something smokey.
“I am sorry sweet girl…that I did not come sooner.” He said, the sound of his voice was graveled.
He was vaguely aware of Lord Royce and the maid quietly leaving them in the nursery.
“You are my father?” She asked, her voice soft and sweet sounding, like a balm to his injuries.
“I am.”
Her smile was crooked and more than a little mischievous as she stared at him. It reminded him of the smile his mother wore when she was too busy teasing their father about something.
Little Alysanne didn’t understand the politics between her parents. Or that her mother was likely to die soon.
“Mother told me you have a dragon.” She said, staring at him curiously.
Daemon was honestly surprised that Rhea didn’t claim that he had died in some horrible way and then hid her from the world.
“I do and you will have one someday too.” He said, stroking her curly silver-white hair. “First I need to speak with your uncle.”
She nodded and went back to playing with her dolls by the fire and he found her maid standing outside. She curtsied for him and slipped in through the door.
He found Lord Royce in his solar rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He looked exhausted.
“You didn’t know about Alysanne did you? Rhea never sent the missive.”
“I’m sure she thought…or maybe hoped that I would die in the Stepstones.” He stated blunted.
He watched the older man release a harsh breath and scrub both hands down his face and then up through his hair. “I should have sent the news but I assumed…that she would have. Regardless, Alysanne will be named my heir on the day of her mother’s passing.”
“As she should be.”
Lord Royce nodded. “However, now that you are here, you should bring her to King’s Landing to be presented to the Court. I’ve been trying to urge Rhea to do it…but she refused.”
“I need to return and update the King on the matter of the Stepstones anyway. We shall depart in the morning and return once the business is concluded.”
By morning, he had ensured that she was dressed for the cooler ride and carried her to Caraxes. He wondered as they approached his dragon if she would be afraid of him. Smart people feared dragons on principle but Caraxes the Blood Wyrm was feared for his unusualness. And his viciousness. What would his dragon think of his daughter?
As they approached Caraxes, he trilled and nudged at her, inhaling her scent. Alysanne stared at him with wide eyes and squirming arms. Then she giggled, petting his snout as he nudged her again. Daemon introduced them, making sure that his beast knew that his daughter was not food to be eaten but a gem to protect.
With Alysanne strapped to his chest, he chained them into the saddle and took off. She laughed with delight and stared wide-eyed at the landscape around them. The ride to King’s Landing took a few hours but she was endlessly amused and good-natured. She would be an excellent dragonrider, he just knew it. Before returning to Runestone he would ask the Dragonkeeper’s for an egg.
They landed in the Dragonpit and before they left, he set his crown of Driftwood and Shells on his brow and with a smirk–he strode towards the waiting horse. With Alysanne settled in front of him, he rode the horse through the city. Smallfolk cheered for the Prince of the City, as he was often called in King's Landing. Others stared at his small daughter in shock. Daemon urged his horse forward, soon word would spread that he not only won the Stepstones but he returned with such precious cargo.
He was certain that braver souls would question her legitimacy due to his reputation as few outside Runestone knew of Lady Rhea’s pregnancy. Lord Royce had sent word to the Grand Maester after the baby came out bearing a silver crown. Mostly so the Targaryen family tree could be officially updated.
At the Red Keep he swung off his horse and handed the reins to the stable boy. He reached for the Crabfeeder’s hammer and stepped through the doors in the Great Hall with Alysanne perched on his hip opposite of Dark Sister. Courtiers gapped at them as he ambled across the marble flooring. But the closer he drew to the Iron Throne his eyes locked on his elder brother.
Viserys' gaze kept darting between Daemon and Alysanne. The Kingsguard at the base of the throne drew their swords as the silence stretched between them.
He tossed the hammer to the floor in front of the steps. “Add that to the Throne, brother. The Crabfeeder and his armies are nothing more.”
His brother eyed him, standing slowly. “I’ve heard you’ve been named King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Seas.”
Daemon tilted his head, shifting to set Alysanne down before he plucked the crown from his brow and bent the knee. “And I recognize that there is no King but you brother. My crown and my loyalty is yours as it has always been.”
The Hightower cunt looked like he wanted to expire on the spot. Daemon wondered if steam would begin to pour from the Hand’s ears soon. He would have paid good money to see it happen too. Alysanne’s little hand was resting on his arm as she stayed standing beside him.
Viserys called off the Kingsguard as he came to mirror his position in front of him. Daemon was pulled into a tight hug, his brother's grip strong and welcoming. The court clapped eagerly around them as he rested his head against his shoulder and took solace in what he had been missing these past few years.
“And who might this be?” His brother said when they separated. His gaze on Alysanne.
His daughter didn’t shy away. Those inquisitive eyes of her bounced between them, accessing the situation in silence. Her little fingers a comforting warmth against his bicep.
“Brother, I would like you to meet my daughter, Alysanne. Rhea gave birth while I was away at the Stepstones.”
Alysanna bobbed the tiniest of curtsies and peered up at the King with large eyes.
“Yes…I heard. Lord Royce sent a raven to the Grand Maester. But my Gods Daemon…she reminds me of our mother…” He said softly. Then he reached out for her. “Come here sweet girl, let your uncle see you.”
Alysanne toddled into his arms and did not complain as she was lifted and settled on the King’s hip. Her dual-colored eyes darted between Daemon and his brother before the smile that still made his knees weak slid over her little mouth. His elder brother must have seen it too because his eyes grew misty as he traced the curve of her cheek gently.
“Brother, I am so happy for you and Rhea. I hope she recovers from the incident soon.”
Daemon allowed for a nanny to take her away and went to his old rooms to freshen up before he joined them for refreshments in the private gardens. He met his new niece and nephews. Aegon was approaching his fifth Nameday, while Helaena was two and Aemond was a newly born infant. He didn’t think much of them as he greeted his eldest niece.
He was happy to be home.