Chapter Text
Gaemon's smile rippled beneath the water's surface.
"Come hither, sister! The water is perfect!"
Daenys glanced at him, unsure of what to do. She couldn't swim and wasn't certain of the depth. As much as she trusted Gaemon's strong arms to protect her from the waves crashing on her back, staying on the stone was more attractive at the moment.
"Dany!" Gaemon called her a second time, more loudly than before.
His smile was that of a playing child. In honesty, it had been a long time since Daenys had last seen Gaemon act like a young man. She had given in to her childhood nickname.
The water was chilly, but not as deep as she had feared. Gaemon, about twenty centimeters taller, felt no difference. In time, Daenys would get used to the temperature. Also, her brother's arms were warm enough to keep her at ease.
"Trust me, right?" he reassured her.
Daenys examined him. His white hair was wet and stuck to his forehead. The style was different, it was longer than usual, reaching almost to his shoulders. Even so, he had the same bright eyes as always.
"Father is much afeard," Gaemon said cautiously. "He noticed your melancholy, how you're always so quiet. Sometimes walking aimlessly around the keep. He's thinking that some sickness from Westeros has caught up with you…"
"No. That's not it."
It had always been complicated for Daenys to speak in a way that few people would understand. It was hard to put her thoughts into words, to organize them correctly and then just to make the right sound. For Gaemon, it was always different, his brother was a natural talker and a great warrior, an especially popular boy while training.
"I overheard some mariners..." Daenys paused once again. Gaemon kept silent, letting her take her time. "Valyria exploded. It turned to ashes. They're calling it 'Doom', saying that the sea is made of fire. Is that true?"
"Aye"
She blinked. She waited for her brother to continue with a good explanation. Yet it vexed her that Gaemon uttered no surprise at the tidings.
"Jacaelor Velaryon hath returned from his latest sea voyage, bringing tidings of the world around him," Gaemon sighed. He hugged Daenys close, trying not to look too hard at the disappointed expression on her beautiful face. "Valyria is no longer there. No survivors. Now all that remains is a pile of burned ruins. Whosoever dared to return to the land has not come back to say otherwise. Essos is entering a turbulent period. Father has said that the colonies will be fighting amongst themselves to determine the continent's future."
Biting the inside of her mouth, Daenys hid her face in Gaemon's chest. The sand was uncomfortable, she shifted to brush the grains from her feet, and Gaemon followed suit.
During her childhood, Daenys was haunted by prophetic dreams. Many people told her they were a blessing, but she kept her doubts to herself. The gods seemed to mock her mind most of the time. About ten bad dreams came true, including the death of her older brother, Aegon. After this, her father finally accepted that the ancient magic of clairvoyance still ran in the blood of his only daughter.
Fire and blood. As a dragon rider, the smell of human flesh charred to the bone was nothing new. However, this time it seemed even stronger and more pungent. The sounds of cracking and falling buildings were more disturbing than the desperate shouts of the Valyrians and their dragons. Lots of fire and blood. On a new continent, a green land devastated over the cold.
Daenys anticipated tragedies enough for Aenar to have no doubts and to listen when his twelve-year-old daughter said that Valyria was going to blow up. Most lords mocked Aenar, calling him stupid and cowardly.
"It's well, we're safe." Gaemon reassured Daenys, planting a soft kiss on the top of her head. "Father didn't want to tell you and forbade the mention, he thought it wouldn't be good for stress and ill memories to be brought up while you were still getting back on your feet after travail of bearing Aegon."
Eventually, Daenys would forgive Aenar, but she was bitter and still felt betrayed.
"I feel selfish. No one believed father."
The thought of the beautiful, healthy babe in the keep, sleeping in the care of the maids, calmed Daenys' nerves. She did her best and used the curse to save her family from the cruelest fate ever known. And in doing so, she had a chance to forge a future with Gaemon and his children, with Aegon being just the first of many.
"They were fools. They paid the price for their own arrogance and folly." With a gentle touch, Gaemon made her face upwards. "Blame not yourself for that, Dany."
He conveyed confidence and a sense of calm in his voice. Daenys shouldn't feel guilty for surviving.
Gaemon touched her cheek. Kissing him, Daenys released some of her eagerness and nervousness. Gaemon's lips tasted salty, the fault of the waters that bathed Dragonstone.
In the end, she decided she was ready to tell another of her visions. This one seemed sweet — a breath of hope amidst the end of an era. The ancient glory of the Valyrian Empire has met its conclusion, but Daenys knows that the future Westeros will become as bright and bloody as the old continent.
"I've dreamed that one day Aegon will ride mine dragon." She smiled softly. She remember the strong features on the slender boy's face, even though he was so small, he still looked agile and clever. "Balerion will be ten times bigger than Terraxes once was. The Black Terror will be flying over Westeros for many long years to come."
Gaemon looked alarmed at the prospect. He didn't like the implication that, for this to be the truth, Daenys would have to die.
"My dear, our son has his own egg in the cradle, I chose it myself," he said, more to himself than to Daenys.
She shook her head, thinking that Gaemon is a bit silly sometimes.
"There shall be another Aegon, my love."
That night, even as she slept comfortably in Gaemon's warm embrace, she dreamt of a different Targaryen.
An intriguing princess, Daenys woke up and hastened to write down all she remembered in her dream diary. Sometimes the memories of her dreams were lost at dawn.
"You will be a mother, a daughter and a wife, but above all a mother. Mother of liberated people. Mother of dragons"
Gaemon was called "Gaemon the Glorious", and he is remembered as the greatest Targaryen Lord of Dragonstone during the Century of Blood.