This was a gift @andsensibility had commissioned for my birthday by Agus Zebrowska.

It features Dae, my aasimar lore bard, and Alovar, a celestial npc in service to Ilmater she became close with.

♡show champ behind♡ makpd:does daehwi like noona fans calling him oppa? dh: i like being called oppa because i find it cute~~

Daeron II

Dearest Daeron,

I have finally been able to write to you properly. My brother said that I shouldn’t as the king would have tossed it aside before you were able to read it. However, upon hearing of your marriage and all of it, I felt that perhaps I would be allowed to write. In truth, I have written this letter time and time again, trying to find the right words.

A part of me wishes to hate you. I want to hate you so badly because there is no one left to hate. Who else can I hate but you?

I want to be angry at Ashara for what she did. I want to be angry at her selfishness. I want to be angry that she could do this to any of us. But she always felt so very deeply and once she made a decision, there was no talking her out of it. For better or for worse.

Her name is Naerys. The baby’s, I mean. That is what Ashara named her. I told her that, perhaps, we could name her after our mother, but she was against it. She always planned on relinquishing the sweet babe to you. Ashara thought it best that Naerys have nothing connecting her to Dorne save for the name Sand.

She… Ashara was never meant to be a mother. She loved children dearly, but she was not meant to be a mother, not meant to have a child of her own. I think it’s why she did not think one moment of her daughter when she leapt from the tower. My only relief is that she had not taken the child with her as a way to harm you. For that, at least, I can be thankful.

Naerys needs her father, Daeron. And I pray that you will be able to be with her soon. She is adorable, Daeron, and I know that you would love her with your whole heart. Her hair is a dark sort of honey gold and her eyes are the color of irises. And her nose, by all the gods. Her cheeks as well. She is such a cheerful and happy baby that any might find joy in her presence.

I pray that you will be able to send for her soon and that you might hold her in your arms as well. I await the day that you two might meet. Too many were unable to return home after the rebellion. Too many were never able to reunite in this life. I can at least pray that your family might be able to come together where others can’t.

Your loving friend,

Allyria

Naerys. His daughter’s name was Naerys.

He had a daughter.

Daeron sat down upon his chair and prayed that he might be able to make this right, that he might be able to protect his daughter when her mother no longer could.

Jaime dreamed of her smile, of the way her laughter echoed across the halls of Riverrun.

His father had gone to make a match between him and her older sister, Lysa. But he only had eyes for her, Celia Tully, the joy of the Riverlands.

There will be obviously steamy lead up to this scene, but here we go.

They were startled from their lovemaking bu the door bursting open. Celia screamed, covering herself as Daeron struggled for a moment to put himself between Celia and whoever had come through the door, not caring about his own nakedness.

Whatever arousal he had felt while with Celia flagged instantly as he saw the thunderous look of Jon Arryn standing before him illuminated by the torchlight behind and before him.

“Lord Arryn,” Daeron stammered. “I—I...”

The Valeman slammed the door behind him, not allowed for anyone else to look in. “You would disrespect my daughter, under my own roof.”

“No, Father,” Celia pleaded. She wrapped her arms around Daeron’s own, a sheet separating their skin. “It is no disrespect. Please, I love him.”

“You will remain silent!” Lord Arryn roared and Daeron had never seen his foster father so angry.

“I intend to marry her, my lord,” Daeron said, finding his voice. “I just need to write to my father,” he said. “Please.”

“Your father is no doubt looking for a Valyrian bride just as he did for your brother,” the older man said.

“That was for Rhaegar,” Daeron tried to insist. “I am Celia’s and she is mine. We have sworn to one another in the godswood.”

“Get out,” Lord Arryn sneered.

“Father, please!”