littledove

Daeron

Daeron waked to the tickles of hair on his face. Elaenys was still fast asleep. Her long pale blonde hair scattered all over him. After a few seconds he realized he couldn't feel his left arm. Which caused a sudden feel of emergency at first, though he understood it was due to Elaenys sleeping on it. He didn't care to lose his arm, if it meant she could sleep a little longer like this. Hugging him. Holding him so carelessly like they were children once again. Without any expectations from people. Free as a dragon. "A black dragon so large, that it's wings could cover up a meadow… dead."

Shame on him to think he could had a moment uncaged from his torments. They were always there. The visions he didn't even knew the meaning of. H e thought about what this one could've meant. He was too late for his mother, it was long after her passing that he realized what lilac chrysanthemums on red grass meant. He was always too late as it seemed. Late to see the changes in Aerion, late to see Daella losing the spark in her eyes, late to see little Egg and Rhae forget their mother... And late to see how Elaenys became the mother they lost to their little siblings. How she calmed Aerion when he was in his moods, how she talked with Aemon spryly about anything and everything, how she read and sing and embroidered with Daella, how she cared for little Egg and Rhae and took care of their education, and how she already was close to Rhae and how they plotted with their great aunt Shiera. He was absent when all this happened. Probably at some shady tavern or brothel, drinking endlessly, entertaining men and women at various ages, when he should've had been with his siblings, taking care of them. He was their eldest brother, his mother trusted them with him. and he failed her. H e failed her mother, failed her father, failed her siblings. Hells, even failed the realm by not being a gallant knight and prince. Oh how embarrassed his grandsire and father be with him. Against his cousins he was nothing. He was…

"Stop that" spoke Elaenys with a slumbery voice.

"What?"

"I can hear you thinking, and I want to sleep a little longer so stop thinking."

"How can you hear someone thinking? It doesn't make sense." he asked baffledly.

"Not everything has to make sense to feel them" she said. And it felt deeper than it sound. Guess she was right, he thought.

"Well, we shouldn't be sleeping at this hour anyhow, as much as it pains me"

"Unfortunately, you're right and we should get up before the maids come cleaning, we shouldn't be seen like this" What, why did she say that, he thought. Was she embarrassed of him? How couldn't she. He was miserable.

"I told you to stop that! You have an open wound, if you can remember after all those cups. We should get it cleaned and bandaged before anyone sees" Ah, that's right, he cut his thigh open last night and did nothing to get it cleaned. He didn't want to die from a cut, it was low even for him.

"Yeah, you're right, sorry" he said as they got up from the bed.

"The bath is probably drawed by now, you go ahead I'll be right there" She said and he couldn't help but notice how easy, how normal it was all to her as he made her way to the bath chambers. Did she done this before? With whom? Did she had a lover before? He found himself getting angrier, why he couldn't understand, and tried to calm down. It was probably Egg and Rhae, right? Yes, who else could it been? He let a small laugh escape him as he started to unrobe himself beside the tub.

"What are you laughing at?"

"What?! What are you doing?" He was flabbergasted at how at ease she was at him with nothing on himself, and tried to cover his private parts as best as he could.

"Daeron, calm down. It's not like I haven't seen you at worse conditions. Though I don't think you remember them, if your reaction is to cover yourself up immediately" She spoke with such confidence and comfort, he couldn't help but be get a little red. He felt his face burn, and his chest tighten.

"Let's get cleaned up first, okay?" she asked gently, motioning them to the tub full with hot water and jasmine and mint, he guessed, oils and essences. Remembering him of how she always smelled like that.

He went inside the tub, but he wasn't expecting her to come in too. He asked what she was doing as she started to unrobe in front of him. How she was this comfortable he didn't understand.

"We came from the same womb brother" she answered. He felt like he was seeing her for the first time. How he missed what a young lady his sister become? A bold and regal one too. The tub was large enough to have them both at the same time, facing each other. He watched ash she sat down graciously, her slender form unmarked and milk like, as their father, except a short white scar under her left little breast. A scar from when they were younger. They were playing with swords at Summerhall's training yard at the face of dawn, to not be seen by the castle servants. He remembered how the point of the sword nipped her at the chest. He didn't mean to hurt her, they were just little five years old kids. It was just a game. But the reminder of the accident made his guilt come to the surface again. As if sensing his feelings she spoke:

"It doesn't even hurt anymore, stop feeling so damn guilty, we were kids"

"I know, I just can't help it"

"I know"

They fell to a mutual silence. Heavy with words not said, feelings not expressed. He started to wash himself as she done the same, watching each other as they did. No one dared to break the silence. They went through the motions without a word. As they were done and got out of the tub, he couldn't help but stare at her again. How her skin gleamed with droplets of water. How her wet hair sticked to her shoulders and breasts. No. He didn't want to think about that. Not in front of her at least. They went to their chambers and started dressing. The maids didn't disturb them as it was their first morning together. He got in his fresh garments, as unlikely as it was for him. And decided to comb his hair for once. For her. To be worthy of her at her side. As the brush stuck on a stubborn knot he heard her.

"Can you help me with my corset? Usually the maids do it but you know…"

"Of course" He put down the brush immediately and went to her side.

"As my lady wishes" he said with a grin. Mindful of how the remark left a soft smile on her face and started lacing her corset. Careful not to strangle her, but tight enough to hold her silhouette. He saw how his hands compared to her waist. Big enough to hold her whole with his hands. Why did he think that? Why was he suddenly couldn't take his eyes off of her? It wasn't proper. Right? The law, the old gods Valyria and his ancestors said it was okay, but she was his sister. How dare he thought about her that way! But she was his lady wife now. It was okay in the eyes of the Faith and the old gods too. What was he supposed to do, supposed to think? Life would be so much simpler if someone was there to tell him what to do and what to say, which beliefs were right and which beliefs were ill-advised. Hells, he needed a drink.

As he was done, Elaenys turned to him and looked at him quizzically, then tried to unclew his knots with her hands. After failing miserably she left a tired sigh and took the brush in her hands.

"How long since you brushed your hair properly?"

"Last morning actually, before the wedding" he said triumphantly.

"Huh" was all she said, then she started to brush his hair. Her movements were so soft that he could go back to sleep then and there. After she unclewed his knots, she put down the brush and looked him in the eyes. He couldn't decipher what she was feeling. Despite how easy it was for her to read him. Was she thinking how incompetent he was? Or that how he wasn't the groom she deserved. Perhaps how he ruined himself with cup after cup of Arbor red.

Elaenys

The feast was spectacular, and oh the Arbor red… They let her drink three full cups tonight. Gods know she needed it. Or else she didn't know how could this night will pass. All those old grimy lords with their hungry eyes, and all those wise-ling ladies looking down to all around them. This night couldn't get worse, she thought.

And Daeron wasn't helping either. He was already down 4 cups and going. Elaenys knew her brother, knew how he was in pain all the time because of his dreams. But couldn't he just stop drinking for a minute and be there for her? She didn't ask for much, she just wanted her wedding feast to not be a total disaster, where the groom couldn't even stand to dance. She had no such luck as Daeron barely managed to dance to "Fair Maids of Summer" before their father took his place. She danced with nearly all the men of her family, from the King to little Egg. Thanks to gods there was no bedding ceremony, as Elaenys was just four and ten and also a princess of the realm.

After they were in their new chamber, Daeron was fast asleep, carried by Ser Roland and Beric. She didn't know what to do now. Now, tomorrow or whenever. What was expected of her now? Was she to be a good wife and carry as many children as possible, never make a sound and do as what she was told? She did not want that. Her mother had plenty children but she was happy, her grandmother had four and she was happy too. But her great aunt Shiera had none and she was happy too. Was this how her sister's namesake princess Daella felt like? Alone with no one to talk to and with no idea what to do. She didn't know, and she didn't want to think. She tend to think about everything too much and it made her head hurt.

She was Bout to go to bed, next to Daeron, to sleep when she heard a knock on their chambers' door. She slowly crept to the doors and silently opened it, as to not wake Daeron. She was surprised to see her grandmother Queen Myriah, but welcomed her nonetheless.

"How are you doing my sweet girl?" asked the queen. Her eyes and tone soft despite them never seeing each other except the tournaments here on King's Landing.

"Well, your grace." It was a lie. She wasn't harmed or anything but she was terrified, from the expectations and from not knowing. Her grandmother shaked her in a graceful way.

"Ah, nothing of that sweet girl." She tried to smile against her taut muscles. "Now I'm sure you know why I'm here." Oh unfortunately she did. "I came to tell you what you will face from now on. As your septas thought you, we all have our duties sweet girl. It is misfortunate that it had to be this way, but the realm has its own order and expectations. As much as this saddens your grandsire and I, we have to be strong, and we must fulfill our duties. You understand, right, sweet girl?" the queen asked with that pitying look on her face.

"Yes, I understand grandmother." She couldn't say no to the queen after all.

Myriah Martell gave her a hug she never expected from anyone except her mother suddenly. It was strange, and horrifying. Why was she crying? Why was everyone acting like they were sending her to war? Weddings was ment to be happy. It was meant to be a vow between two lovers. It was sacred. After they hugged the queen said goodbye to her and left. She didn't miss the gleam in her grandmother's eyes as she left.

A few moments later Daeron woke up, as if he felt the heavy gloom in the air. It was so awkward between them now. Even asking him how he was felt odd on her tongue. It was even worse when they couldn't even say what the two of them thought about. Thanks to the Mother, Daeron took care of it all.

"Thank you" she said. Didn't know what else to say. It was like all the words had deserted her mind.

"Always" he said. So easy, like it was drinking water and breathing air. Like the way blood spilled from him. She slowly climbed the bed and laid down on her back, Daeron joined him not much after. They laid down like that for what felt like a trip from Dorne to the Wall to her. Then she couldn't able to stomach the silence any longer and asked him:

"Do you remember when mother sung 'Alysanne'? Would you sing it for me please?"

Daeron didn't answer for a minute too long, and she was almost regretful that she had to ask, when Daeron started to sing. It was her favorite song. Mother used to sing them to sleep, and she always liked "Alysanne" the best. How ironic, she thought. Two Targaryen princess wedding their brothers. Would bards make a song for them too? The drunkard and the maiden princess. As she came closer to sleep's tender arms, she felt herself coming closeer to Daeron's too. They used to sleep together all the time when they were little. Daeron almost all the time crying from his dreams, and Elaenys singing to him like their mother. It was like that times before. Nothing changed, she thought. And then left herself to sleep.

Daeron

After the blood stopped flowing, Daeron wrapped his thigh with the cloth he teared from his underclothes. It didn't sting. Daeron was far too familiar with pain already. He saw Elaenys lying down, and decided to join her. He was pulled from his thougts of future when she asked him to sin to her. Daeron couldn't make sense of it at first with his jugged up mind, but then he remembered the nights he spent in the soft arms of his sister singing to him. It always made him calm down and go to sleep, dreamless.

He started singing the song he knew she loved. It was almost hilarious how the song was about the Good Queen Alysanne. A queen who was wedded to her brother at an age so young. Was it fate that they had to marry each other? Was it the old gods of Valyria making fun of him again?

After a while, he noticed Elaenys fell asleep. What was he going to do now. They were still so young. They should be in the gardens running, in the sea swimming, living their lives. What more did the gods want from him, his family, his house? Wasn't there enough bloodshed and sorrow already. Why did the gods gave her sister a drunkard as a husband. She deserved more than that. She was as beautiful as mother and as graceful as their grandmother the queen. She didn't deserve some maltworm bringing shame to her name. He couldn't continue living like that any longer. He had to protect her sister from that conniving cunts at court. Gods knew what they were planning and talking already.

Elaenys

Looking through the window of the carriage, Elaenys thought there could never be a dirtier place. Passing through King's Landing's streets always proved that. It was an exhausting journey from Red Keep to Baelor's Sept. All those fabrics and corsets didn't make it easier. She couldn't breathe. From this suffocating wedding gown, the scent of unwashed bodies, death and gloom or the thought of marrying her brother Daeron. She didn't know. All that she knew was she was four and ten and alone.

The white and red gown made from the finest silk Westeros has seen couldn't be more beautiful. But she wasn't feeling beautiful. It was a strange thing to marry your brother that you grew up with. Maybe not for her ancestors, but her grandsire chose to marry out of the family and his children too. So why should she wed her brother? Deep down she knew. Her brother wasn't the princeling the houses of the westeros or the common folk dreamed of. He was a drunkard and a philanderer. Nothing a lord from a noble house wants for his daughter, even if he is a Targaryen prince. So she must perform her duty, it is not unwonted for Targaryens to marry within the family after all.

Her own grandsire's mother and father were siblings. Oh poor Naerys she thought. Forced to perform her "wifely duties" against her wish. She hated Aegon the Unworthy. For what he caused for Queen Naerys and her own grandsire and the realm. She loved her great aunt Shiera, but couldn't say the same for that Blackfyre bastard and that Rivers. Brynden though, he scared her. Not quite but she always felt that he was watching her. Her movements, her words, even her thoughts. He always seemed to make his presence known even if he wasn't there. Shiera enjoyed him though, so she couldn't hate the man.

Ever since she was a little girl, every time she saw Shiera Seastar when her family was in King's Landing , she couldn't help but admire her. Her beauty, her magnetism and the way she always got what she want. It was better that she was to wed Daeron, she told her while fastening her corset that morning. "You will get along pretty well, I'm sure" she said knowingly, with a peculiar glimmer in her eyes.

As the carriage stopped at the stairs she thought she was drowning. The eyes of the common folk heavy on her shoulders. Ser Donnel of Duskendale greeted her, walking her up the stairs to her father Prince Maekar. He was a cold man, the court would say. But Elaenys knew her father. He had such love in him that the people didn't understand. Her mother did though. Dyanna saw the goodness in him, the goodness and care he didn't know how to show. They loved each other, it was a marriage of love not duty, unlike hers.

The sept was cold to her surprise. All the noble lords and ladies cramped inside couldn't wash away the frostiness of the marble on Visenya's Hill. Her father seemed poised and cold to the outside but she can see it in his eyes that he was disappointed. Why she didn't know. Disappointed in her or Daeron, or did he didn't like the wedding gown? She couldn't say, her mother would if she was here. Dyanna always knew what to do and what to say, she was a true noble woman and a princess.

As they walked towards the father and the mother's altar she could see Daeron standing with his cloak of heavy black velvet embroidered with red dragon scales at the bottom and the three headed dragon of their house on the center. Hers was black too but only with flying dragons and scales at the bottom.When they reached him and she stood by his older brother, Elaenys could see the tiredness and the disappointment on his eyes. Looked like no one wanted this marriage to happen, so why? Why did her grandsire agreed to this, she couldn't say. She could understand no one wanted Daeron but what about her? What about her wants? Didn't she deserve to have a great lord and a castle of her own? Couldn't she have a gallant warrior and a gentle soul? What about her future and desires?

She stopped thinking about all of that as she felt tears in her eyes. It wouldn't be proper to cry in front of the High Septon. She couldn't hear what he was saying, couldn't her brother say the vows, couldn't even hear herself. But she felt the heavy cloak on her shoulders very much so. The weight of a new responsibility as a wife to her brother, as a princess of the realm and as a daughter. Oh how she wished her mother were here, she always had that magic in her to calm her down.

"I'm sorry" Daeron said as they stepped down the altar.

"What for? There is nothing you can do brother"

"That, you're right"

Daeron

The venison was delicious, but he couldn't hold anything in his stomach after all that Arbor red. Daeron looked at his right for Elaenys, she was beautiful. She was always beautiful like their mother. Her pale blonde hair down with amethyst jewels on her headpiece matching her eyes, she looked solemn. They only had one year between them but she looked much older in that moment. Daeron loved his sister, in a brotherly way of course. H e couldn't see the reason their father agreed to this. As he took another sip of his drink, his eyes caught the purple dahlias on her hair. A purple petal falling down on a cup of wine, A knight , A black dragon so large, and fire so much fire, and then a dragon so large that it's wing could cover up a meadow… dead.

Daeron caught the wine cup in his hand at the last moment and tried to poise himself. Elaenys having caught the alteration asked,

"Are you well?" with that knowing but not pitying, never pitying, look in her eyes. Her and little Aemon always saw through him. Always knew when something was not right.

"Nothing, just a headache. Are you enjoying the feast?" She looked at him for a moment. He knew, she sensed something was off, but she let it pass.

"It is as any other feasts would be. Only now you're here as my lord husband. Forgive me, it still doesn't feel real to me"

"It isn't any different for me, Elaenys, you're still my little sister, I will never hurt you. You know that"

"Of course, it's just… I'm. I never thought… Forget it. Let just get done with this please"

"Alright"

Elaenys… His little sister. The girl who always understood him, and his pain. When the dreams got worse and there was nothing to hold she was there. Always. Before the wines and ales, before the women and men, she was the anchor. Even more so after their mother's passing. They would lie down together in the middle of the night, him sweat-soaked and sticky on her soft arms. Jasmine and mint perfume on his nose… It was the only thing, except her mother's singing voice, to calm him down, and make him go back to sleep. Dreamless this time. Now beside him as his wife. The word not pleasant on his tongue, but not alien either.

When it was time to dance Daeron couldn't stand on his own, his father dragged him down the dais made him dance with Elaenys. He couldn't remember what happened or what has been said. When he came to he was in his, their, new chambers, lying on the bed. His head spun like he was on a mad horse when he tried to get up. Closing his eyes, he waited for a couple minutes. Then he heard her.

"I thought you were pass gone. How are you feeling?"

"Like shit" Her laugh was soft and it felt like something tore open his chest, and yanked his heart.

"There was no bedding ceremony, you can rest assured"

"Thank gods, so, what now?" He knew what was next, she knew too, but she was still so little, his sister. Especially when she looked down at her hands and averted her eyes.

"I don't know"

"I know, it's okay, go to sleep I'll take care of it" He got up from the mattress and looked for his robes. He could feel her eyes on him when he reached for his dagger.

"I'm not gonna hurt you-"

"I know that! I don't know if you're gonna hurt yourself although"

"They'll look for a proof " Her face fell as she thought something. Probably the same thing he did.

He came to bed again, beside his sister and disrobe his thigh. Faltering for a second before bringing the dagger down on his thigh, he made a nice cut. As the blood dripped down from his thigh to bed he watched her. The way her eyes never leaving the droplets.

"Thank you"