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.
The anguish was suffocating both of them. A father and a daughter. A Rogue Prince and his only true heiress. A Black and a Green.
"You have lived too long, Uncle." Aemond finally spoke, breaking the silence, the gaze of his single-sighted eye focused on the Bloodwyrm's rider.
"On that much, we agree." A barely noticeable chuckle had left Daemon's lips, as his eyes moved again to his daughter.
Daena didn't say a single word, turning away from her traitorous father.
"We will live today, my love." She whispered to Aemond's ear, barely moving her lips. "No matter what... We will live."
* * *
Alys was sitting by the window, in the exact spot where Daena had spent the last few days, observing three dragons who ascended in the sky. The oldest and the biggest dragon alive, the Bronze Fury and the Bloodwyrm. The beasts' giant eyes were hungry for blood, and their demeanor mirrored the one of their riders.
Vhagar, the majestic dragon belonging to Visenya, the sister-wife of the Conquerer, slowly flapped her wings, taking her rider into the sky above the God's Eye. Prince Aemond secured himself with four little chains, ensuring that he wouldn't fall off the dragon's back in the midst of the battle. His eye was glimmering with determination to put an end to the Rogue Prince that very day, yet a note of worrying was disturbing his confidence, as his gaze kept turning to Daena.
Vermithor, a beast only slightly smaller than Vhagar, was carrying Daena on his back, staying steadily by his larger sister's side. The woman left her chains detached, either intentionally or simply having forgotten to secure them. Her eyes were shifting from her husband to her father, as she was trying to analyze the possible strategy. She didn't intend to attack, only to defend, if it was necessary.
Caraxes, the smaller but battle-hardened dragon, ascended into the sky way faster than his older rivals, giving his rider Prince Daemon an advantage with his size and agility. Daemon, like his daughter, left the securing chains dangling. His attention was only directed at Aemond and Vhagar, whom he intended to slay. What he would do with his daughter after the did was done, the Rogue Prince did not know. But that was a worry for the latter.
Aemond, Daemon, Daena, they all knew one thing: it was not another battle. It was the battle, the one that would decide the outcome of the war, the outcome of it all.
And three dragons danced. The clash of scales and beating of wings reverberated across the sky above the God's Eye as Vermithor, Vhagar, and Caraxes engaged in a basilisk confrontation. Flames erupted, casting an infernal glow upon the darkened sky, and their roars thundered through the air, rattling the hearts of those below.
Caraxes advanced towards Vhagar, unleashing his flames onto the old dragon. The Aemond's beast, however, paid little attention to it, for her skin was thick and hardened, but the attempt did annoy the giant creature. The formidable dragon's wings flapped, preventing further attacks from the Bloodwyrm. Aemond was holding tight to the bridle, his eyes constantly moving in search of his wife. Daena, at the same, directed Vermithor's attack onto Caraxes, as her bronze dragon attempted to clench its giant jaws around the red dragon's body. The Bloodwyrm, not as big but impressively strong, had abruptly pushed Vermithor away, causing Daena to almost fall off her dragon's back. Her body lifted excessively, causing a terrified scream to leave her mouth.
"Daena!" Aemond yelled, the petrifying horror immobilizing his body. As he saw his wife securing herself back into her saddle, a sigh of relief escaped his lips, though his peace was not prolonging: another advance from Caraxes had quickly brought the Kinslayer back to his senses, sharpening his reaction.
The sky above the riverlands seemed to have been set ablaze, as the fiery attacks by all three dragons didn't subside. The reflection of flames was shimmering in the waters of God's Eye, turning the surface into glistening copper. The burning fire had suddenly brushed over Daena's left leg, making her scream in pain. As she turned her gaze to witness her wound, the sight of it terrified her: the leather of her skirt had melted into her skin, and her flesh was boiling and charring the same way as Aegon's was moons ago. She clenched her jaw, trying to fight the tears that were welling up in her eyes. She could bear the pain, she told herself, while she commanded Vermithor to release another deadly blast of fire toward Caraxes.
And that was the moment: Vhagar and the Bloodwyrm had collapsed, clenching their jaws and claws around each other as they were falling straight to the waters of God's Eyes. Harrowing fear painted itself across Daena's face, and she, without a single second thought, directed Vermithor to follow the descending dragons. No matter what, no matter what it cost her, she had to save Aemond. Nothing else, not even her own life mattered to her. In a flash, she had noticed Daemon unleashing his sword and raising himself off his saddle. It took her less than a second to realize what her father intended to do.
That moment, a single moment it took Daena to understand what she had to do, felt like an eternity to her. Her entire life flashed before her eyes, making the shivers go down her spine. The faces of her children, Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, and Alicent filled her thoughts, making Daena finally shed the tears she had been holding inside her for so long. Her head was heavy with thoughts, doubts, and regrets. She would never see her babies again, she would never touch Aemond's or Aegon's faces again. But if that was the price Daena had to pay for the lives of the ones she cherished the most, she was more than glad to do so.
And she jumped. Jumped off her saddle just in time to crash into Daemon, who had already lifted his sword to drive it deep into Aemond's skull. In the same way, as Vhagar and Caraxes collapsed together into the abyss, the father and the daughter flew together straight into the deep salty waters. Both of their faces were twisted with angst. Daemon's grip on his sword came loose, and his Valyrian steel weapon soon disappeared out of sight.
Their gazes met. Met for the last time. The eyes of both of them were filled with tears. They could've said so much to each other. They could've forgiven everything, were they given another chance. Yet it was too late.
Seconds later Daemon and Daena plunged into the water. The wave of cold sensation washed over the woman's body, as she felt her lungs filling with burning saltiness. She wanted to scream, but the more Daena tried, the more water filled her breathing canals, making her suffocate. Her vision was going dark, and she didn't feel cold much anymore. Her eyes closed, as her conscience was slowly slipping away, and the outline of her body was disappearing from the site of those above the surface.
The confrontation in the air, however, went on as ruthlessly as it did before. With both Daena and Daemon plummeting to the waters, Aemond found himself completely alone, surrounded by the dragons.
"No!" He yelled as the streams of tears were flowing down his cheeks. "No!"
His eyes were glued to the spot where he last saw Daena's body, and his vision was going blurry. The beastly scream of Vermithor almost deafened the half-blind man. The Bronze Fury sank his teeth deeply into Caraxes's neck, freeing Vhagar of his grip. One instant movement and the stream of dragon's blood covered Aemond the One-Eye from head to toe, sending Caraxes's already lifeless carcass down to the ground. After the deed was done, another deafening scream of Vermithor followed, as he flew down to the surface of the water. The beast's intention was, perhaps, to find its rider. Aemond, without a second thought, joined his wife's dragon in an attempt to recover the body of Daena. The silver-haired man, as the tears were streaming down his cheeks, yelled her name in a heartbreaking anguish.
"Please! Please! You told me we will live! Daena!" His voice was trembling, the last bits of air were leaving his lungs as he was screaming.
The victory over Daemon meant nothing to him. Daena's face was the only one that took complete control of his mind. Will he never see her again? Was that the end?