Emotional Damage–Chapter 6–Lyn Gala

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22 Minutes

“My prince, there you are.” 

Daemon was not surprised to see Clement Crabb waiting for him. The kingsguard had stood guard on Daemon in the dream, preventing him from fleeing after Daemon had loudly proclaimed that he would live in Essos rather than marry a Vale sheep. Daemon was embarrassed about his behavior, even though he had technically never acted so disrespectfully in this life. Clement had even helped drag Daemon to the sept at the point of a sword. What had the septon been thinking by allowing a marriage that was so obviously unwelcome?

“Yes, here I am,” Daemon agreed easily, as if he hadn’t disappeared the day his betrothal had been announced, only to vanish for four days. He turned to the dragon keepers. “Caraxes would prefer to hunt for himself today. If he returns, do not chain him. He may choose to nest in the cliffside caves.”

Before the dragon keeper could object, Daemon mentally prompted Caraxes to leave, and he spread his wings and launched himself into the air. Clement stumbled back, caught off guard by the strong down wind when he had clearly expected Caraxes to shuffle into his den and be safely chained. After seeing what happened to the dragons in the pit, Daemon would never again allow Caraxes to wear chains. 

“What are you doing here Ser Clement?” Daemon asked even though he knew full well why the kingsguard was here.

“Your grandmother asked that I ensure that you remained in the capital.”

Daemon had been striding toward the exit, but now he stopped and turned to Ser Clement. “Why?”

“I do not question the orders of the queen.”

Daemon made a production out of shrugging. “Fair enough. I need to speak with my grandparents anyway so it’s not as if I was planning to leave soon. Come along Ser Celment, keep up.” The royal family always kept a few horses at the Dragonpit, and Daemon quickly mounted one and set off for the Red Keep at a trot. He would need permission to return to the North, but he trusted he could manipulate his family into providing it.

It took Sir Clement only seconds to follow but Daemon still had a head start.

The city stank. The Vale might be dull and boring with killing mountain clans the only entertainment, but at least it didn’t stink. Daemon needed to remind himself of every reason for being grateful for this match because it offered him the greatest chance of having allies. In fact, when Viserys started to deteriorate, he needed to make sure that Rhea had no more children. He did not want young children in the path of another war. 

A little boy on blood-stained sheets.

His and Rhaenyra’s little Aegon had screamed as he watched his mother die, and that would not happen again. His children would not suffer because Daemon wanted to throw a fit, especially given that marrying a First Man would never weaken his magic.

No, this time Daemon’s children would all be old enough to defend themselves. Not only that, but he would teach them both the boys and girls to be deadly fighters. Anyone who targeted his children in this lifetime would find a knife between their ribs. Daemon smiled at that image. He reached the courtyard of the Red Keep and dismounted, striking toward the castle with all the confidence youth could command.

The Red Keep had clearly heard of the betrothal because every time Daemon turned a corner, the whispers started. Quite a few of the ladies of the court gave him disappointed looks but none of those pretty pieces of fluff could give him the one thing Rhea could—powerful children. Daemon wondered whether a child with both First Men blood and Targaryen blood would be able to hatch a cold egg. The chances were slim, but if their magic amplified as the blood crossed, it was possible.

His grandfather was holding a public audience, so Daemon headed to his grandmother’s rooms and hoped she wasn’t holding her own court. He had been six or seven years old the first time his grandmother had brought him to women’s court as she heard petitions. At least half of the women had found some excuse to ask after potential betrothals as if a seven-year-old had any need of a betrothal or a wife. After seeing Aemma suffer, Daemon was determined that none of his children would have a betrothal or enter the marriage bed until they were at least ten and six. Daemon was grateful for Rhea’s age. They could start having children immediately, and he didn’t have to worry that her small and immature body would be incapable of carrying the baby to term.

Daemon ignored the kingsguard on his grandmother’s door and walked into her solar without warning. She was sitting on the lounging sofa with a book propped on her knee and a glass of wine beside her. “Daemon,” she said with surprise. 

Daemon walked over and kissed his grandmother on the cheek before sitting in the chair across from her. Daemon had always thought his grandmother had hated him. He couldn’t imagine another reason why she would have paired him with Rhea Royce.  But she was also the woman who had wanted her first surviving child… the girl Daenerys… to be the heir. She had made her daughters untouchable until they had offended the king enough that Jaehaerys had punished them. Daemon wondered whether she had liked the stories she had heard of a female heir who ran her own castle and refused to listen to men and broke all the social rules. Maybe she didn’t hate him. Maybe she just loved the idea of Rhea.

 “Hello grandmother. How are you feeling?” 

She studied him. “Quite well.” Even if she didn’t hate him, she was definitely suspicious.

“Where’s Gael?” Daemon asked.

“Why?” she asked sharply.

“She usually does her needlework with you when you’re in your solar,” Daemon said “I’m just surprised she’s not here.”

His grandmother didn’t answer his question. “Where have you been?” she demanded. Her voice had royal authority behind it now. 

Daemon smirked, well aware of what his grandmother assumed and enjoying the chance to embarrass her for thinking poorly of him. In fact, he hadn’t visited Fleabottom since she had announced his betrothal. “I thought it behooved me to introduce myself to Lady Rhea, so Caraxes and I flew up to Runestone.”

His grandmother’s mouth opened but no words came out. 

Daemon continued as if he hadn’t noticed her reaction. “Lady Rhea was quite startled at the news of the betrothal, but I assured her that I had been equally surprised. I told her I had not been scheming behind her back. She was so upset that I offered to fly her up to the Eyrie so she could express her frustration with her father.”

“She refused the betrothal?” Alysanne sat up, a look of alarm on her face.

“No, not at all,” Daemon said. “We had a good discussion about how we would work together. I have agreed to keep my primary duties focused on training the men and riding patrol against the mountain clans. I will take my destriers and coursers to the Vale when we marry. I also promised to avoid burning down the Vale by hunting mountain men with Caraxes.”

By the time Daemon finished, Alysanne seemed to have recovered her equilibrium. “Yes, we would all prefer you to avoid burning down the kingdom.”

Daemon grinned at her.

Alysanne set her book aside. “So how do you find the lady?”

Daemon considered his words. He wanted to be honest, but he needed to keep himself focused on the parts of this marriage that were most advantageous. “She is plain-spoken to the point of being offensive, which I find entertaining when she turns it against others,” he said. “The way she spoke to her father was really quite amusing. I imagine his ears were burning for days afterward from the scolding she gave him.”

As Daemon spoke, Alysanne relaxed and a more natural smile graced her features. “You have never been conventional. That’s why I thought Lady Rhea would be perfect for you.”

Somehow Daemon doubted that, but if his grandmother was happy to see him married to Rhea and he was happy enough to go to the marriage, he didn’t feel the need to challenge her. “I just have to make sure that I never anger her to the point that she turns the tongue against me. It is a terrifying weapon, and I am not prepared to duel my wife.”

Alysanne laughed. “A wise man learns to never duel his wife.”

“In the case of Rhea, it does not require wisdom. A drop of common sense would tell a man to avoid such an encounter.”

“Then you will have to feign the possession of common sense,” Alysanne said.  Daemon raised an eyebrow.  “What did you discuss regarding Runestone?”

“She takes her work seriously and fears a husband will take it from her. I assured her that I would happily leave the paperwork to her.”  

His grandmother’s face twisted into a grimace. “She will make sure Runestone does not fall apart if you decide to disappear on Caraxes for a week.”

“I actually am thinking of disappearing for several months, but I wanted to talk to you and grandfather and father first.” 

“Months? Why would you be gone for months?” Alarm returned.

“Because I do not know how to be a landed lord. After I left Lady Rhea in the Eyrie, I visited Winterfell. Lord Stark said he would show me how he runs his lands.” Daemon put his leg over the arm of his chair and let it swing. His grandmother frowned at him, but Daemon continued. “Lord Stark also said that I might find an excellent wedding gift for Lady Rhea in Ibben. Lady Rhea is most proud of the lands around Runestone, including the sheep farms.  Lord Stark tells me that Ibben has curly-horned sheep that are highly prized for their thick wool. I was thinking of getting a pair of rams and maybe a few ewes and gifting them to Rhea so she can experiment with crossbreeding Ibbenese sheep with her own. Or, if she dislikes the idea, she can have a very nice feast with them. I have no doubt Rhea will tell me exactly what she thinks of any gift without any dissembling. There will be no smiles only to discover years later that she hated it.”

“Your grandfather and I always found that honesty was far preferable to easy answers. And sit up straight young man.”  She reached for her cane. Daemon put both feet on the ground before she could hit him. His grandmother continued.  “Lady Rhea will give you an independent income, and she is noted for being a capable steward of her lands, so why do you need to train under Lord Stark?”

“Because I wish to be able to assist my wife if she requires help. During the last months of a pregnancy, she will have to go into confinement, and I will not have her lands mismanaged while she is unavailable.”

Alysanne snorted. “You are already worried about planting a child in her.”

“She’s about to turn ten and nine. I believe most ladies have at least one child at that age, and she wants an heir for Runestone. Either way, I should not expect my wife to do all the work. I just need coin so I can purchase Lady Rhea’s gift in Ibben and I need permission to spend the months before the wedding in Winterfell.”

She studied him, and Daemon tried to look bored. If he presented an earnest face, she would distrust him for sure.  “When your father said you accepted the match, I wondered if he wasn’t misstating your position.”

“It’s not as if you were marrying me to an Andal with their hatred of magic.”

“Andals hate more than magic,” she said with a level of disgust that Daemon didn’t expect.  “I’m glad you appreciate the match I found you. You should not rely on Viserys all your life.”

Daemon snorted. He hadn’t meant to let his contempt for Viserys show, but his grandmother pounced on the slip. “Has Viserys done something?”

“Nothing besides being Viserys,” Daemon said. Viserys’ worst sins were yet to happen.  Aemma’s death was a horror, but Daemon was most angry about his willingness to marry again while leaving Rheanyra as heir. He had set up both sides of his family to be failures. Rhaenyra thought her status as heir made her untouchable, and Aegon had thought his lack of status made him worthless.

And honestly, Viserys had done nothing to ensure that their bannermen wouldn’t try to force Aegon onto the throne despite that. Even if Rhaenyra had ascended before the Hightowers organized their coup, she might have faced endless rebellions until she settled the matter by killing her brothers. Viserys had failed as a father, a husband and a king. If the gods were fair, Viserys and Aegon would both suffer dragon dreams where they were faced with their own failures. They both deserved the sort of emotional damage Daemon had suffered.

A little boy on blood-stained sheets.

Alysanne said to the kingsguard at her door, “Fetch the king.” She turned her attention back to Daemon. “Do you feel it is a good idea to avoid relying on your brother?”

Daemon twisted his lips. “Indubitably,” he agreed in a dry tone that sounded more like the man he had been in his fifties than a boy of ten and six.

“When I brought the matter up in the past, you acted as if I was a foolish old woman who could not see how much your brother loved you,” she said, her words sharp.

“He does love me, and I know that,” Daemon retorted with some heat.

“But?” his grandmother prompted him.

Daemon thought about what he could say without revealing his visions. Not only would Alysanne not believe him, but if she did take the dream as truth, she would never forgive him for what he had done in it.  “Viserys has been jealous of me ever since grandfather gave me Dark Sister,” Daemon said. “And his uncharitable comments toward Lady Rhea make it clear that he is trying to poison my marriage. He has pushed Aemma to have children so young, and he suffered such losses, that I fear that he wants to make sure that my marriage is less successful than his.” 

In the visions, Daemon had made it entirely too easy. But maybe he was attributing some evil intent on Viserys’ part when it was Daemon’s own foolishness that caused most of the problems between them.  In the dream, every time Viserys had exiled him, Daemon had earned it by acting out over some perceived slight. A stronger king would have thrown him into the black cells for taking the crown princess to a brothel and threatening to deflower her. Viserys’ love had kept him from punishing Daemon as he likely deserved.

His grandmother nodded. “I am glad to see that you are not so much a fool that you would ignore what is right in front of you.”

“And what truth do you think I’ve met ignoring up till now? Do you truly think Viserys dislikes me?” Daemon demanded, daring his grandmother to lie to him. Maybe Viserys was jealous and maybe Daemon was immature, but they had never lacked love for each other.

“Of course not. You’re right that your brother loves you, but he is also a very selfish man. He will never put your needs first, Daemon.”

“I am well aware,” Daemon said, even though it pained him. “I will spend most of my days in the Vale, so I no longer think it matters.” Daemon needed to find a way to increase the profits in Runestone so he had a strong enough economic base to protect his family because his grandmother was right.  Viserys was selfish, and Otto was a grasping, vicious cunt, and that was a dangerous combination. Before fire and blood, Otto would resort to more subtle methods of defanging Daemon, and he needed to make sure Hightower had no leverage against Runestone or the Vale.

“What of your father’s desire for you to be hand of the king when your brother takes the throne?” Alysanne asked.

“By the time my brother takes the throne, none of you will be here to express your disappointments if he throws me out on my ear.” Which he would.

Alysanne leaned forward and patted him on the knee. “His failures have nothing to do with you, my dear.” 

The door opened and King Jaehaerys walked in, crossing the room to kiss the queen on the top of her head before he sat next to her. “I see you found our wayward grandson.”

Alysanne’s smile turned sly. “Our wayward grandson was introducing himself to his future wife. It seems that someone misjudged him.”

Jaehaerys narrowed his eyes as he looked at Alysanne, but then he sighed and threaded his fingers with hers. “As always, you know more than I.”

“Of course I do.”

Daemon carefully did not tell her how very wrong she had been when she had arranged for Aemma to marry at age one and ten. She had not been right to betroth him to Lady Rhea without a conversation. She certainly had never asked the North for their opinion of her willingness to strip away large parts of the land and give it to the brothers at the Wall. The Wall had no farmers capable of working it. 

His grandmother had made a number of decisions that bordered on stupidity. But he did not say any of that. He was quite proud of himself for how quickly he was learning to avoid saying all of the things he thought.

“And how is Lady Rhea?” Jaehaerys asked.

“She’s well. I think we will be a strong couple, and I was amused with the way she expressed her displeasure with her father over the betrothal. I surprised her by showing up the way I did.”

“You surprised us as well,” King Jaehaerys said. “Why did you not tell us where you are going?”

Daemon shrugged. “I suppose I assumed everyone knew where I would go. You had told me that morning I was betrothed, and I did not know the lady. Introducing myself seemed like a reasonable step.”

“Yes, child, but you’ve not always been one to make reasonable choices,” Alysanne said.

Daemon glowered at his grandmother. “I’m soon to be a man wed, I’m not a child.” He was tired of her insults.

“We shall see,” King Jaehaerys said.

Daemon gave his grandfather his full attention. “Speaking of the wedding, I wish to discuss the terms of the wedding contract.”

His grandfather waved away his concerns. “Her father is providing a significant dowry. You and Lady Rhea will live well.”

“Grandmother said you will be investing in infrastructure, a dragonpit and new docks?”  Daemon was both impressed and offended. Had his grandparents thought him such a poor match that they had to bribe a father to get him a bride? He wondered what Rhea in the dream had received instead of the dragonpit. No doubt she had profited from his bad behavior. She was too sharp of a businesswoman to miss such an opportunity.

“You will not be left to live in penury,” his grandfather said in a weary tone that made it clear that he considered Daemon ridiculous.

Daemon bit down on his tongue to avoid saying all the things he wanted to. This was his time to get what he wanted and to make sure that his side was the winning one in the wars to come. “I searched the Mountains of the Moon, and I found a cluster of smoking volcanoes that will be far more pleasant as a winter haven than any dragon pit we could build at Runestone,” Daemon said. “My connection to Caraxes is strong enough that I can call him from a distance, so instead of building a dragonpit, I would prefer it if we could widen the main road and build two bridges over dry rivers that flood during rains, cutting Runestone off from Gulltown.”

Jaehaerys blinked at him. Daemon had worked very hard to not smirk or to point out that he was perfectly capable of asking for reasonable and even boring gifts. At least, he could after having an ancestor torture him. A road might not be exciting, but it would make trade far easier if they had smooth travel to the Kingsroad.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Alysanne said. “We can certainly send a team to do road work. I was worried about Caraxes in the cold, but if you found the smoking volcano, he should be fine.”

“He was quite happily digging out a den within minutes of finding the crater, and he was quite wroth with me for wanting to leave after a single day.”

“That is excellent.” Jaehaerys sounded more surprised than ever. “Is that where you have been?”

“I spent a day in Runestone waiting for Lady Rhea to finish with her tax assessors before taking her to the Eyrie, then I searched the Mountains of the Moon, and I decided to visit Lord Stark. I asked his help in training me, and I would seek your leave to spend a few months before the wedding taking lessons.”

“Lessons.” the king demanded, “what lessons would you take in the north that you could not get here at Red Keep?”

“Lessons in being a lord,” Daemon said. “Lord Stark offered to show me how he tracks the production each year and then uses the average temperature and the production to see if his lords are doing as well as they should. He said that if food production goes down in colder years, that would be reasonable, but if the food production goes down when the temperature is stable or rises, then he knows that either he has a bannerman who is incompetent in some way or one that is not turning over the full tithe.”

“Lord Rickon sounds like a wise lord,” Jaehaerys said, “but your father can teach you just as well as any northern lord.”

“But he can’t,” Daemon said, “because he is going to be king. The lessons he would teach me would be how to be a prince in the Red Keep, but I’m going to be a lord with a large estate to tend. That is a different set of skills, and while I find going over yearly ledgers insanely boring, I have to admit that Lord Stark is competent. I would like to learn some of that competence for myself before I move to the Vale.”

“Lady Rhea has run Runestone ever since her father moved to the Eyrie. She can teach you what you need to know,” Alysanne said in a dismissive tone. Daemon had to bite his tongue.  His whole family had a rare ability to leave him shaking with rage.

“Should I go to my lady wife and ask her to treat me like a child who must be instructed in his letters? Should I, Grandmother? No. I will go to my marriage with skills equal to my wife so that we can discuss decisions rather than her having to teach me as if she were my septa.”

“The boy is right,” Jaehaerys said, “he should walk into his marriage as an equal so if Lord Stark is willing to provide instruction, he should accept the offer. But I do have to wonder whether you traveled all the way to Winterfell to pressure the man into giving you lessons that you are not entitled to.”

Daemon rolled his eyes.  He could afford to be a little petulant because if he changed too much, too quickly, his grandfather would grow suspicious. “I went to Winterfell to talk to Lord Stark about northern magic. As I told grandmother, I care about strengthening our magic, and I was curious about the similarities and differences between our dragon dreams and their greendreams. We had a good discussion, and during that conversation I asked if he would show me how the Starks have been so successful and running their territory for so many centuries.”

“I don’t want you making a nuisance of yourself,” Jaehaerys said, making Daemon sound like an annoyance that others needed to either brush off or endure.

“I wanted to discuss another element of our contract,” Daemon said.

Both his grandparents got wary looks on their faces. “I know you are unhappy that your firstborn son will be a Royce, but all your other children will be Targaryens, and you can have many children. Look how many children I had,” Queen Alysanne said.

“Rhea and her father were both adamant that a Royce inherit Runestone, so I do understand that, but it is the issue of my Targaryen ancestry that leads me to discuss the marriage contract. I want my children to have access to Dragonstone no matter who is the sitting Prince of Dragonstone.”

“Your children will not have dragons,” Jaehaerys practically shouted.

Daemon blinked at his grandfather. “Of course not. I never expected otherwise,” he lied. “However, my children will speak Valyrian. I am determined that it will be their mother tongue, and there is only one large collection of texts. Once the children are fluent in reading and writing Valyrian, I want a guaranteed right that the children can visit the Dragonstone library. I agree that they cannot remove books or scrolls, but they should be able to read on Dragonstone.” Daemon poured all his frustration and anger into his words.

“That’s perfectly reasonable,” Alysanne said with a sharp look toward the king. How had Daemon never noticed that his grandmother often just pushed his grandfather out of the way to make decisions for the family, and his grandfather did not seem concerned about fighting back.

“Very well,” his grandfather said with a sigh. “Your children will have a right to access the library at Dragonstone”

Daemon nodded happily. This next part was a little trickier. “And while my children will not have dragons, I want them to take part in Targaryen traditions. I want them to have a cradle egg.”

Jaehaerys started to puff up like a rooster getting ready to crow.

“Of course I would not expect it to be a viable egg, but my own egg did not hatch in the cradle, so having the dragon hatch is not a prerequisite to be a Targaryen. I’m fine with the dragon keepers choosing cold eggs or even fossilized ones, but my children should have eggs in the cradle with them. When they are grown and when the girls are married and have lost even the Targaryen name, they can look at their egg and be proud of who they are, who their father is, who their grandparents and great-grandparents are.”

Jaehaerys’s expression softened. “Would you not be upset if we chose the oldest eggs in Dragonstone?”

“I would not be,” Daemon assured him. And it was true, especially not since the oldest eggs likely belonged to Vhagar and Balerion. Those were two enormous and powerful dragons, and Daemon would not mind having the drakes that came from those eggs. Of course, the eggs were less likely to hatch, but he still had hope that the first men’s magic would reinforce his own.

“As long as you do not expect a viable egg, that seems reasonable,” Jaehaerys said.

Queen Alysanne beamed, first at Jaehaerys and then at Daemon. Her smile made it clear that she appreciated their ability to compromise. Daemon thought she would appreciate it less if she knew what he was planning. But then, he’d always been better at asking for forgiveness rather than permission. He would be no different this time. 

And by the time his children had hatched dragons out of cold eggs or had accidentally claimed dragons on Dragonstone, it would be too late for his family to change anything.