Chapter 30: Diffident

                                    

                                          
YEAR 130 AC 
With every step Daena took along the stony empty halls of Harrenhal, her confidence was slowly fading, being replaced with nervousness and even fear. The feeling of bliss, the one that came with getting closer to Aemond again, was the balm to her soul, but an inevitable meeting face-to-face with Prince Daemon was poisoning her mind, making her fearlessness fall apart. She was not afraid of her father, despite what kind of a man she knew he was. Daena was afraid of what she might have to do to protect herself and Aemond from his wrath.
Taking revenge... How sweet it sounds, how desirable it feels. That was the Targaryen lady's intention for years. All the suffering Daemon had caused her, all the pain she had to survive... It was impossible to describe. He had ruined her, he deprived her of a happy and carefree life she could've had. He took away her right to inherit Runestone. The death of her mother, the marriage with a Lannister that was forced on her when she was barely old enough to act like an adult, the tragic passing of her son, and the threat he imposed on the ones she loved the most. There were too many reasons for Daena to despise Daemon. Why was she afraid then, if that was the case? Why did a single thought of her dragon devouring her father terrify her? 
Her limbs were trembling, either from the fearful sensation that was filling her veins or from the feeling of hunger and exhaustion, the one she deliberately ignored for days, spending them on the windowsill in anticipation of the confrontation. Daena moved slowly along the hall, like a ghost haunting an ancient edifice, until she reached the front doors of the castle. She stopped in front of it, her gaze motionlessly focused on the handle. What am I waiting for? 
No matter how much she asked herself that question, she couldn't bring herself to reach out to it and open the bloody door. A few minutes passed as she was blankly staring at it when she finally touched the cold iron handle to step out of the castle. As soon as she did, she felt the cold wind wrapping its claws around her, making her body shiver. Two sets of eyes focused on her at the same time, and if there was any sort of conversation happening between the two men, it fell silent. 
Aemond the One-Eye slightly opened his mouth at the sight of his wife. Her pale skin and lifeless gaze caused him to take a step forward, grabbing her arm instantly to help her stay on her legs. The prince happened not to see Vermithor anywhere around, since the dragon was resting on the other side of the castle, so the sudden appearance of his beloved took him completely by surprise. 
"Daena..." He uttered, pressing the woman close to his own body as if trying to protect her from the man standing in front of them. 
At the sight of her Aemond, a wave of liveliness washed over the Targaryen lady's body, making a faint smile appear on her face. 
"My love..." She whispered, trying to straighten her back and appear stronger than she actually was at that very moment. 
Daemon was observing the two, his eyes narrowing. As much as Daena's appearance was unexpected for Aemond, it was unexpected for her own father, for he believed that his eldest daughter was staying in Dragonstone with her usurper of a lover. The bitterness was filling him gradually, as the realization of facing his own blood in battle again was slowly settling in. He didn't want to harm her anymore. Many times he had tried to kill her, pursuing some useless and non-existent goals, yet all of them were fruitless. Daemon had endlessly tried to fix his own mistakes by eliminating their subject, for he was blind to his own flaws. Now, however, he had seen everything for the way it truly was. He was determined to slay Aemond without a single hesitation, but he couldn't do the same to Daena, to his daughter he had already wronged beyond belief. 
A small glint of sadness was quite noticeable in Daemon's eyes as his gaze met Daena's. Their eyes communicated instead of the words: by merely looking at each other, they knew - it was the last time they ever met. And it was the last opportunity for them to have at least a small conversation, to confess to their wrongs and sins, to tell each other that somewhere deep inside they had loved each other as a parent and a child. However, none of them shed a word. Daena glanced at him, squeezing Aemond's hand tighter with every second as if telling Daemon: "I will give my life for him if needed, for he is my family." The woman's father, at the same time, pressed his lips together tightly, giving his daughter both a greeting and farewell nod.