Daemion calmly walked out of the room, with his Rhaena in his arms
She was starved, beaten and weak... But she was alive. She is alive... Daemion could cry at only the thought of it.
To feel her in my arms again... Gods... Daemion thought to himself. Oh, Rhaena...
"Stay with me, Rhaena." Daemion whispered as Daemion walked toward the stairs. "We are going home... Together."
As Daemion and carried Rhaena downstairs, he reached to a floor that he had not noticed that he had passed...
It was larger than the whole of Golden Palace... Daemion could see the shapes of the structure that was built there... Tombs. Many tombs. And the large statues of the Seven Gods along the walls, as if the gods themselves were watching over the tombs.
As Daemion chose to walk the stairs down so he could get on Modread and leave, he heard a noise... As if someone was shaking and—
—Crying???
Daemion with Rhaena in his arms walked toward and found the source of the noise, behind one of the tombs pillars, as half of his robe was exposed to whoever walked next to it.
There was one Septon still alive, hiding away from his fate alongside other maester and septons.
Hiding behind the pillar of a tomb... The tomb that had a name above it: "Manfred Hightower." and beneath it, it wrote. "Son to Addam Hightower."
Upon hearing Daemion's footsteps, the septon looked at Daemion with Rhaena in his arms with fear, but yet spoke with pure hate in his voice. "You made a choice today, Black Dragon... A choice that you will never know was the right choice or the wrong one!" The Septon spat with hatred. "And that shall haunt you until the end of your days, Kinslayer!"
"It was you and them who made your choice. The blood of everyone who died today were on the hands of men who broke oath first." Daemion spoke coldly as he brought Rhaena closer to his chest. "If I was the monster you believe me to be, I would have burnt this city to it's founding stones. But this, this is my family's city! You forced my fucking hands!"
The Septon scoffed and spat angrily as his large belly and scrawny arms shook.
"Lie to yourself and to those who's your name is their cry of war. Tell them all that you had no choice but do what you did today... Tell them that you do not fear what you did here today... But you never can run from nor hide what you've done from the eyes..." The Septon pointed at the statues of the Seven gods. "The very eyes of the Seven themselves! NOR HERS!!!" The septon screamed as he pointed at a tomb at the far end.
Daemion turned his head in fury to look at where the man pointed... And Daemion froze where he stood with Rhaena in his arms.
The Tomb was elegantly made of the finest stones Daemion had ever seen. The stone above the beautifully crafted wooden door had the shape of a woman's face and a name:
Ceryse Hightower
"Mother..." Daemion muttered as he looked at his mother's tomb.
Daemion's arms tightened around Rhaena, who was in his arms as if he wished to cling to her arms to stay safe from the sight of the tomb.
"Let it be known... that Prince of Oldtown, Daemion Targaryen, spilled the blood of his own kin in the city of his own family... Kinslayer!" The Septon screamed. "You spilled the blood of your mother here! A Kinslayer is what you'll ever be! Now you will never see her again! For your mother has gone to the very heavens itself, but you... You will go to the deepest parts of the seven hells!" The septon screamed.
Daemion clenched his fist into Rhaena's bloodied blue dress.
"Hell? I've already been." Daemion spoke coldly. "Now run, dog... Before I change my mind."
The Septon was struck with fear and disbelief, but after mere seconds, as he tried to not fall, he ran to the other side of the Tomb, toward a door and from that door, he disappeared.
As the Septon went away... With shame, Daemion looked at his mother's tomb one more time... Perhaps for the last time.
His heart began to beat rapidly.
He could feel tears forming in his eyes
He could not feel why, but the mere name of hers brought the small image of her face... from that dream... Long ago. Her beautiful face... Her elegant demeanour... Her motherly touch...
Daemion longed to feel his mother's touch one more time... Even if it was the faintest touch... Just to feel her touch... To remember that once he had a mother, even if it was for mere minutes... For he knew the Septon was right... His mother was somewhere that he could never simply follow.
As Daemion continued to look at the name and tomb of his mother, Rhaena softly moved in his arms. She was dreaming again... and not a pleasant one.
Nearly one and thirty years old, and yet he still did not have the heart to see his mother's resting place... More than ever now... For he was ashamed to face his mother...
"Forgive me... Mother." Daemion whispered as he turned and calmly began to walk away.
But as he walked away, as he walked toward the stairs... He felt something.
Daemion felt as a gentle touch on the back of his hair... Caressing his hair...
Daemion turned around to see what it was, but there was nothing.
Only the tomb of his mother.
__________
As Daemion reached the floor where he had taken his uncle's head, he could smell the burning bodies and smoke.
Setptons and maesters were on fire, as their robes burned to the skin over their bones, suffering the consequences of Daemion's uncle's sins.
As Daemion carried Rhaena in the middle of the hall, he heard someone calling for him.
"Commander." Sly called as he walked toward Daemion, but as he stood in front of Daemion, he saw Rhaena in Daemion's arms.
Sly looked at Rhaena and then looked at Daemion and spoke softly. "Is this her?" Sly asked softly. "Your beloved?"
Daemion blinked and then wordlessly and calmly nodded. My beloved... Daemion thought to himself. She is much more than that, brother.
Before Sly could say another thing for Daemion to respond to him, Ser Walder Lannett walked toward them with his hand on his sword's hilt. "My prince. We have... found Prince Aegon's body we believe." Ser Walder spoke calmly as he pointed at a body on the ground, and Daemion turned his head toward Aegon's headless body and looked at it.
It was not so hard to recognize the Targaryen sigil on Aegon's black and red clothing, but his body appeared to be much rounder than what Daemion remembered him by. As if he had been drinking for years instead of water...
Aegon. Daemion thought to himself. Never thought you would meet your end like this, old friend. And with that Daemion brought his face back to Ser Walder and spoke.
"Ser Walder. Leave for the Red Keep and take my brother with you. Take Prince Aegon's body back on horseback." Daemion spoke as with his head he pointed at Sly, to show who he meant by brother. "I know you are tired, but please ride with no rest or breaks. I want you to reach Red Keep in no time in a few days. I will leave atop Modread with Princess Rhaena."
Ser Walder bowed. "As you commander, Black Dragon. We will see you soon." And with that Ser Walder and Sly walked toward Aegon's body and Daemion walked outside of the Hightower to the burning City of Oldtown, with Rhaena in his arms, to mount Modread...
To fly to the Red Keep.
__________
While flying from Yi-Ti to Oldtown he had not paid much attention to Kingslanding beneath him, but now he could truly see it for what it had become in the past decade.
From atop of Modread, Daemion could see where was once the Sept of Remembrance was nothing but ashes... But close to it was a large building... A very large building. Daemion knew that the building must have been constructed during his absences, but strangely that building had a massive space, large enough to fit dragons in it... But not Modread.
Modread will not fit in there, nor will I take my time to get Rhaena help. Daemion thought to himself, and with that thought he chose no matter how many walls of the Red Keep would fall off because of Modread's weight, he would land in Red Keep.
Daemion could see some parts of Red Keep were strengthened, so he flew Modread toward those walls, and Modread landed on those walls, though some parts of the wall fell off due to Modread's weight.
As Daemion got off Modread he held Rhaena in his arms as he climbed off Modread gently. As he reached the ground with Rhaena in his arms, he saw soldiers, maids and lords and ladies approaching them.
Daemion could see the disbelief and shock upon everyone who looked at him. As if they were seeing a ghost from the past. "Prince Daemion?" Some muttered beneath their breaths.
"The Princess needs help. Now! So get out of my way." Daemion spoke coldly as he walked forward. "Where is her chamber?!"
A maid, while she trembled softly, walked forward. "Please follow me, My Prince." And with that, Daemion began to follow the maid.
The Red Keep had not changed at all, though it was decorated with more Targaryen sigils and even statues on the wall, nothing more. So Daemion easily found his way up the stairs and he kept following the maid.
The maid opened the door of the chamber for Daemion, and Daemion took Rhaena inside of the large bed chamber and placed Rhaena softly upon the bed, as she was still unconscious.
"We're home, Rhaena... Everything is okay." Daemion whispered to Rhaena's close eyes and turned his head toward the maid and spoke harshly. "Help her! No matter what!"
The maid bowed. "At once, my prince." and with that she ran outside of the chamber as she spoke loudly. "Prince Daemion is back with Princess Rhaena! Send a--" And her voice disappeared as she ran to find help.
Daemion held Rhaena's hand as he looked at her face. My beloved... My angel... Stay... Stay... Daemion prayed to himself. Don't leave me alone in this world...
Daemion did not know how long passed, but when he heard the chamber's door open her looked at and his deep violet eyes fell on a bunch of healers, maids and... A maester and his robes... and fury once more took the better of him.
"A maester?!" Daemion spoke angrily as he walked toward the maester.
The maester looked frightened as Daemion walked toward him. "My Prince?-" And before he could finish his sentence, Daemion had grabbed his jaw and pinned him against the wall as he held maester's jaw with a tight grip.
As the maester began to shake, being held by jaw in Daemion's strong grip, Daemion spoke angrily.
"She dies, and so will you." Daemion spoke angrily, and then grabbed Maester's arm and threw him on the ground next to Rhaena's bed. "Help her before I lose my patience!"
The maester quickly got up and began to examine Rhaena as maids and Septas joined him and calmly and gently began to bring fresh towels and milk of the puppy.
Daemion impatiently began to walk in a straight line, on the bottom of the bed as he laid his right arm on hilt of Dark Sister, and kept looking at Rhaena as his heart raced with worry.
Suddenly Daemion heard as the door of the chamber was once more opened, so he turned to see which maester or cursed maid had arrived later than he had ordered.
But his eyes fell on a face that he feared that he would never see again.
She may have gotten old... But she was still the most beautiful, courageous and fearsome dragon alive...
"Grandmother." Daemion merely whispered with trembling lips, as he looked at Visenya's face.
"My Daemion..." Visenya spoke with a shaky voice as she walked fast to Daemion and wrapped her thin arms around Daemion's neck, as she pulled him into a tight embrace. "My boy! my dearest boy!" Visenya cried as she pressed her face into Daemion's shoulder as she ran her shaky hands through Daemion's long raven hair. "My grandson... My flesh and blood."
Daemion returned the embrace as he laid his chin softly on top of Visenya's white hair. "Grandmother..." Daemion whispered as his small tears fell on Visenya's white hair as he towered over her... He did not want to cry... He did not want to... But to hear his grandmother's weak voice and feel her tears... Tears he thought she was incapable of shedding... Drove something in his heart. "I..."
Visenya softly broke the embrace and looked at Daemion's face as she studied him with teary eyes. Visenya softly touched Daemion's lean body, touched his muscular chest and finally, raised her arms and grabbed Daemion's face between her hands.
"You look so strong..." Visenya spoke softly as small tears left her eyes as she smiled but with the smile tears fell. "So much like your father..."
Daemion's eyes burnt. I will not shed tears. Daemion thought to himself bitterly with a broken spirit. Not here. "Where is he?" Daemion softly whispered. "Where..." Daemion felt as his throat became tight but he still managed a whisper. "... Where is he... Grandmother?"
Visenya closed her deep violet eyes, and grabbed Daemion's hand and softly led Daemion outside of the Rhaena's chamber... and they began to walk with each other.
Daemion and Visenya walked by each other, as Visenya clinged and held Daemion's hand firmly as if she was holding Daemion's hand when he was five years old and could have gotten lost if she did not held his hand.
Visenya led him to a hallway but suddenly she stopped as they reached the chamber that was once Aegon the Conqurors, and then Uncle Aenys's... The Chamber of Kings.
Daemion could see it on his grandmother's face, the only mother he ever had, Visenya's face that she did not have the heart to see where Maegor lay, lifeless.
She reached for her sleeve and brought out a letter. "He wanted you to read this..." Visenya whispered as she handed him the letter. "He wrote it before he... before he..." Visenya left her words undone, but she did not need to finish... For Daemion knew.
Daemion held the letter in his hand, sealed with the seal of the Hand of the King, and he leaned down and kissed his grandmother's fingers and hand.
"Go... He is waiting for you." Visenya spoke with her shaky voice.
And with that, Daemion walked toward the door.
His father lay on a bed behind this door, lifeless... He will not stand up to greet him. He will not ask nor yell that where he has been all these years. He will not even stand so Daemion can embrace him one more time... and call him Father. He will never stand... Never.
Daemion pushed the door open.
There he laid. Maegor The Cruel.
Maegor the mighty.
Maegor Targaryen.
His Father.
Lifeless.
Daemion did not feel anything in his head. He could only feel the chamber shaking. As if he could not control his balance. As if the room was collapsing, and Daemion wished it truly did collapse, so he could be crushed under the falling roof... So just maybe the pain... this spinning room could stop spinning.
There he laid.
His Father.
There he laid.
Daemion sat by his father's cremated body... With the ruby crown of the conqueror and sword of the conqueror, Blackfyre on his chest.
The symbols of a King... The chamber of a King...
His father... His mighty father... The man whom he had always aimed to make proud... A man who despite his faults, was the best man Daemion knew... had died a King.
A King of Westeros.
A King of the Targaryen dynasty.
But after and before all that... He was Daemion's father.
Daemion did not know how long he sat by his father's side, or how long he looked at his cremated body. "Father..." Daemion whispered as he fought the tears that he refused to fall from his eyes and looked at his own hands...
And his eyes met the letter. He had forgotten the letter in his own hands.
Daemion softly broke the seal of the letter, and looked at the letter... It was written in High Valyrian, Obvious that his father did not wish for anyone else to be able to read it, and with that, he began to read the letter:
___________________________________
My son
The day you were born, was the happiest but yet most frightening and heartbreaking day of my life. For that day I had what I had always wanted; A son. An heir. You. But yet I had lost your mother, my wife, and blindly, for most of your youth, I blamed you for what had happened to her... But deep down, I was frightened. Who was I to know of a father's love? I never had feared death, but yet I feared fatherhood, and what it meant.
Death. It is quite strange. I never have thought much of it. But I'd like to believe that in death, once more I find some small measure of peace. that we all look for, but only a few of us ever find, a peace that I found with your mother... Peace, by my beloved Ceryse's side... Watching over you.
When I heard of your conquest in Yi-Ti, words could not describe how proud I was. The pride, that my son, my only boy, was a man worthy of his name and the sword he bears. Unlike what you believe, I never thought of you as weak. I saw you for what you were; as my son. My only son. As a man who was going to find his place in this world... A man that I raised, and am proud to call my son.
My son... Let the fear die. My son, one day you won't let go of the cup of wine, because that's the only thing that will help you fall asleep... My dearest son, never fear anyone, don't be afraid of the dark and unlike me move toward the light. Remember, in this world, vultures come for a taste of blood. I ask you, my son... don't get away from your measures. If you see power don't get blinded by it, for it can blind you to what truly matters... As I got blinded and missed years of your life, from when you were only a boy of seven to now that you are a man grown...
I ask this of you, Daemion... If you ever sired a son, or if you have already sired one, give him the love that I tried to give you. Let my grandson, and his son after him to know that being a better man is what makes a man a true man... And that I did try. I tried, and in the end, I hope they say that I died a better man than how I lived.
You, Daemion, are the better part of your mother, and the best part of me, if I ever had one. And know this, for I failed to say it as many times as I wanted to say it loud, I love you my son. I love you and I miss you.
Please write back to me.
With all the love that I have in my heart.
Your Father
___________________________________
Daemion pressed his teeth together and nodded his head as he fought a losing battle to not allow tears to blur his vision, and he pressed the letter to his face... and tears fell... Letting a sob of a broken heart out of his heart.
He slowly closed the letter gently put it on the table, and stood up. And leaned down, and pressed his forehead onto his father's cremated chest, as he cried uncontrollably.
He sobbed for his father. He cursed himself for the day he was twenty years old. He cried for that night that he did not know that it was the last time he ever embraced his father... For his father could not see him for what he is now... That he could not tell him how sorry he was... To tell him he thought about him every day for the past ten years...
But his father was gone. With his mother at last. He no longer had to keep his mother's old brush. He no longer needed to hold on to her old green dresses... He was gone... With her, after thirty long years...
He had begun his life without his mother, and he was going to continue living without his father... And the world seemed a little less bright.