Emotional Damage–Chapter 7–Lyn Gala

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17 Minutes

Daemon was back at the Red Keep, and in summer no less.  After months in the North, he felt sweat gather along his spine as he walked the halls of his family home. He smiled when he spotted his brother. “Viserys, there you are.” His memories were so tangled. He remembered the brother who had first taught him how to hold a sword and the one who had embraced him when their father died. He also remembered the brother who had exiled him over and over and the brother who had called him Maegor come again.

All those brothers were mixed up in his head until he wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t. He had to assume his vision was true, but that meant that he had to assume that Viserys didn’t respect him. Daemon had brought an army to defend Viserys’ claim to the throne and had done so with no promise of reward. He had never expected his brother to refuse to annul a wedding that had never been consummated. It still made no sense except as a way to weaken Daemon and ensure that he couldn’t have a Valerian bride back when Daemon assumed that magical blood still meant Valerian blood.

But he also had to wonder how much he had poisoned his brother. He could see his own flaws in his relationship with Rhaenyra. Every time he won a battle for her, he had done more to ensure that they lost the war. He thought cruelty was strength rather than a corrosive force that drove their allies from them. He had thought most commoners useless, and yet it was the commoners of King’s Landing who had destroyed the dragons. 

Daemon had seen fewer visions of his relationship with Viserys as they slid from one moment in time to another, but could he have done something equally foolish to drive his brother toward Otto Hightower? 

At one point Daemon had been confident about everything. He knew he was a brilliant prince. He was an unmatched swordsman. His brother loved him unconditionally, and women across the realm desired him. Only now, he found himself questioning everything. But he smiled and did his best to project the confidence he felt in his brother before some Targaryen ancestor had decided to slap him with the truth hard enough for his ears to ring.

“I am surprised to see you here.” Viserys sounded unhappy. 

Daemon was confused. “My marriage is in two weeks, so I would not be anywhere else.” 

“You’ve not been seen for the last five months, so excuse me if I am surprised to see you returned.” Viserys frowned at him with more ire than Daemon had ever seen in this life.

Daemon frowned, not sure where this anger was coming from. “I had tasks I needed to complete before my marriage. I was not avoiding you,” Daemon said, feeling more wrongfooted than he should since this time around he had behaved during the preparations for his wedding. In the visions, he had thrown heavy objects at family members’ heads when they refused to help him escape, so Viserys being unhappy under those circumstances made more sense, but Daemon literally had no idea why he was unhappy now.

“You have things to do? What could you possibly need to do that would remove you from the Red Keep for months?” Viserys demanded. “Do not tell me what you told Grandfather, that you were learning to be a lord. You could’ve stayed here and taken lessons from father. With me.” He said the second part with an unmistakable bite in his voice.

“Father is teaching you to be a king. That is not my fate.”

“Of course you will never be king, but you are a prince, and you can take lessons from him.”

Daemon crossed his arms over his chest, truly at a loss as to what form of idiocy his brother was indulging in now. The door to Viserys’ room opened and Aemma stood there with Rhaenyra in her arms. Daemon’s heart jumped at the sight of the tiny babe.  

That was the girl he had spoiled because of his deep love, but that was also the young woman whose reputation he had tried to ruin out of jealousy. She was the Realm’s Delight and he was so unwanted and unwelcome that he spent more time in exile than living in his own country. Daemon knew himself, and so he could safely guess the motives that had led him to take her to a whorehouse. Perhaps he even hoped that if her reputation was in ruins, Viserys would have to allow a marriage.

Years later, she became his wife and the queen he was sworn to uphold. He had died to defend her claim, but he had undermined her through his anger and obduracy. She promised to love him, but she had believed evil tales carried by others, just as her father had. He struggled to even look at the babe without a great surging wave of guilt. Daemon swallowed and turned his attention back to Viserys. 

“As a lord, I have to know how to read balance sheets and identify which of those tenants sworn to me are incapable of working the land and which are trying to cheat me out of taxes. I must ride the border and identify signs of incursions from enemy forces and I must understand the land well enough to head off any potential feuds before I have another conflict like the Blackwood’s and Bracken’s to navigate. As a lord I have to personally oversee the equipping of my men and ensure that if banners are called I am ready to march. None of these are duties that father is likely to know any better than I. As I told grandmother, I refuse to go into my marriage without the skills required to adequately support my wife as she leads Runestone.”

“As she leads Runestone?” Viserys his nose wrinkled.

“My wife is descended from the Royce Kings. I am not. I do believe Royce bannermen would be happier answering to a Royce. That does not mean I can foolishly ignore all the work of running a castle. So I needed to learn skills before the wedding. And Lord Stark proved a capable teacher.”

Viserys looked utterly shocked.

“What?” Daemon demanded. He was offended at Viserys’s expression.

“I think it is wonderful of you,” Aemma said. “I know that Lady Rhea is difficult….”

Daemon couldn’t help interrupting Aemma by laughing. “That she is.”

Aemma paled. “I do hope she hasn’t offended you.”

“It was very amusing watching her tear into her father for promising her hand in marriage without consulting her.”

“Oh dear,” Aemma said, trying to disguise her mirth with feigned shock.

“No matter. I find her amusing. She is far better than the lickspittles around here who will say anything required to earn the ear of power.” Daemon shot Viserys a strong look. His brother had never recognized when people were using him, and that led to the war. “And this is my niece. Rheanyra, is it?”

Aemma smiled brightly. “It is. She has been our joy.” She held Rheanyra up. Despite the tired lines around her eyes and mouth, she radiated joy. Daemon was pained when he considered the shadow she had become in those last years of the vision. Childbirth had worn her down to nothing, and Viserys said taken her life because of his obsession with the idea of a son. Yet when he had a son, a boy with Targaryen white hair, he had ignored him. Daemon bit down on the rage that threatened to overwhelm him.

“I have something for our beautiful little Targaryen.” Daemon had been flying too far north for the fine silks or delicate laces or elaborate jewelry that he had purchased her in the dream, but he pulled out a delicate necklace with long strands of pearlescent beads that shimmered with blues and purples. “I thought this would be a fine piece for a little princess.” He held the necklace out to Aemma

“It’s beautiful. Where did you get it? I’ve never seen anything like this.” She ran her fingertips over the rippled surface.

“They say it grows on the inside of shells of certain creatures who live in the Shivering Sea. I found it when I was visiting Ibben.”

“That wasn’t a rumor? You actually flew all the way to Ibben?” Viserys demanded.

Daemon gave Viserys an odd look, not sure why he would react so strongly. “I did. I needed to purchase my wife a wedding gift, and that is where I was told I would find what I needed.”

“Oh do tell. What did you get her?” Aemma asked.

“Lord Stark told me of the wool sheep in Ibben and how Lady Rhea is proud of the textiles produced in Runestone, so I bought rams and ewes. She can either raise Ibbenese sheep and experiment with crossbreeding, or we shall have a very expensive mutton feast. In that case, I will be sure to invite you.”

Aemma laughed. “Rhea will appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

Viserys snorted. “He bought his wife livestock. I do not think thoughtful is the first word to describe that.”

“It would be if you knew Rhea. She is not one to value jewelry.” Aemma frowned at Viserys.

“Oh I got her a necklace as well,” Daemon said. “I saved the Umber heir from wildlings and have a new scar to show for it. The Umbers gifted me with a bronze necklace from the Age of Heroes on the condition that I would put it in our marriage contract that the necklace would remain with Rhea or any of her children, and failing that would return to Umber hands so that it would remain with someone of First Men blood.”

Daemon had been carrying it because he wanted to show his father. It was a heavy piece with thick crescents and ovals of bronze beaten together and decorative beadwork along the edges. The whole piece was so worn by time and human hands that some of the decorative etching was worn to near invisibility, but the bronze had a richness to it that was still quite handsome.

Aemma had one arm around Rheanyra and she held the shell necklace Daemon had bought in the other, but she still leaned forward to look at the necklace.

“It is plain for a wedding gift,” Viserys said.

“Luckily for me, the sheep are not. The rams have the most amazing curled horns and their fleece is so thick that you can’t run a finger through it. A few even have a golden fleece. I’m told it’s a rare color even in Ibben, but I assume the fanciness of the sheep will make up for the plainness of the necklace.”

Aemma said, “I assure you that Rhea would far rather have a simple necklace and fancy sheep than the other way around. When I had heard that the queen was considering the betrothal, I worried because she is a rather blunt woman and she sometimes speaks out of turn, but I am grateful to learn that my misgivings were foolish.”

Daemon carefully avoided wincing. In truth, Aemma’s misgivings were entirely well-placed if he considered his behavior in the dream, but that was why he insisted on behaving differently this time. “I care about my children having magic, and with a mother who has strong blood from the First Men, they will.”

“It is not as though they will be dragon riders,” Viserys said.

“Are you intent on making me unhappy today?” Daemon asked.

Viserys stiffened and his brows drew down in anger. “I am simply wondering where all this concern about First Men blood came from, especially given that you have all but turned your back on family. Did you not promise father that you would stay here and be my hand? And now you disappear for months because you must learn to be a better husband for a woman you do not know. Someone who is my hand is supposed to remain near me, not gallivanting about.”

Daemon wanted to tackle Viserys to the ground and beat his face in until their father came and dragged them apart as if they were children in the training yard, but he restrained himself. “I am not yet the hand of the king and you are not yet the king.”

“No, but you are planning a life away from King’s Landing.”

“Caraxes needs only a morning to fly from Runestone to King’s Landing. I can fulfill my obligations to both. In truth, it strikes me that Lady Rhea has lived a very independent life and she may not want me there all the time, and Runestone is too quiet for my tastes. But with a dragon, traveling is no great task.”

If anything, that seemed to make Viserys more angry. “Do not expect to be the hand of the king if you would put me on equal footing with a minor lady of a minor holding.” Viserys turned his back and walked away leaving Daemon and Aemma standing in the hallway with the ubiquitous kingsguard and Rhaenyra who was just starting to cry.

“Forgive him,” Aemma said.

“It would be easier to forgive if I understood what that was,” Daemon said.

Aemma stared down the hallway where Viserys had vanished. “He loves you very much.”

“That did not appear to be love.” In truth, Daemon was starting to doubt whether they were as close as he had always assumed. The dream had shown a terrible future and broken relationship, but Daemon had always assumed Otto had planted the seeds of that discord. Perhaps not.

Aemma gave Daemon a sad look. “On the contrary, that was love. He is jealous that you are giving someone else the attention you used to give him. You are the little brother that chased after him and made Viserys feel like he was ten feet tall and invincible because of how you looked at him.”

“When we were children,” Daemon said. “He is a man grown with a wife and child, and I…” Daemon hesitated before calling himself a man grown. He had seen into a future where he lived to be over fifty, but at the same time he felt like a green boy who knew nothing and who was staring into the face of war unsure how to survive. “I am soon to have a wife and hopefully soon to have children of my own.”

“And he is jealous of that as well,” Aemma said.

“Why? Until my betrothal was announced, I was quite clear that I wanted a Valyrian bride. And it is quite clear I am not getting one, so why would he be jealous of my wife?” Daemon grimaced as it occurred to him that Viserys’s second wife was Andal with dark hair. Did Viserys lust after Rhea Royce? Objectively Daemon could admit that another man might find her mildly attractive. Personally he was just hoping that he could keep the lights low enough to do his duty by her and avoid having her spread any rumors that would damage his reputation regarding his virility. 

Now that he had spent more time with Rhea, he assumed she had spoken bluntly where others could hear her rather than believing that she had maliciously spread a rumor that chased him across two continents, but he was still determined to avoid rumor. So he would be avoiding wine, keeping the candles low so he did not have to look at her face too much, and thinking of the strong children she would bear him.

Aemma sighed. “I do not believe it is the lady’s looks that Viserys envies,” Aemma said. “You are well aware that I have proven to be an inadequate queen at the one task that a queen must perform.”

“No,” Daemon said fiercely. Her expression had slipped into shame, but at the sharpness of his word, she looked at him, her eyes wide and startled. “Do not say that. Everyone knows that if you breed a mare too young, the foal will come weak or early or not at all. I must think that a woman’s body is not dissimilar. It was Viserys who pushed you. You are not the one who has failed at a duty. That is Viserys who has a duty to protect his wife. Aemma, you have a child now. I beg of you, turn him away from your bed. Let your body heal. Be Rhaenyra’s mother for a few years before you seek to bring another into the world. If you are stronger, you have a greater chance of giving him the son he seeks.”

Her cheek pinked. “I cannot turn away my husband.”

“Your husband is an idiot. If I were acting like an idiot, I would expect Rhea to explain the breadth and depth of my idiocy in terms so specific that I could not manage to misunderstand.” Daemon was rather hoping she would.  He needed someone who could because he had seen the consequences when he had been willing to do anything to get what he wanted. A little boy on bloodstained sheets.

Aemma giggled like a girl, the sound dragging Daemon back to the present. “Rhea will do that.”

“I have not known her long, but I believe you are right. So do the same for Viserys. When he is wrong, correct him. And his constant use of your womb is wrong.”

“I will think on it,” Aemma said. “Let us turn to happier matters. Everyone is surprised by the number of lords who have come for your wedding day.”

“I am only a second son, so I would imagine most lords have remained home.”

“I believe most of the Reach has, but word reached us months ago that many from the North were coming, and of course nearly everyone from the Vale. I do not know a noble house who is not sending at least one member. And then we heard the Riverlands were coming in far greater numbers than expected. At this point, your wedding may rival Viserys’.”

Daemon frowned. “Why would the Riverlands come?”

“Why is the North coming?”

“Because I’ve been learning from Lord Stark, and all of the houses have great loyalty to him. I have also visited many of the Northern houses from Umber to Dustin and Mormont. But I have made far fewer visits to the Riverlands. I was searching the Mountains of the Moon when I ran into a mountain clan who had taken a number of women, and I escorted them back to their houses in the Riverlands. But most of those lords do not know me, and there is no reason for them to come to my wedding.”

“I have heard you have done great deeds of chivalry.”

Daemon snorted. “I have done great deeds of violence.”

“Either way, with so many of the other houses coming, they feel obliged to come, and a few Westerland houses as well, including the Lannisters. You know how they like to brag.”

“I hope they don’t gift me any golden lions.” They mistook wealth for power, and after seeing what they did to Rheanyra in the dream, Daemon would spend his wedding fantasizing about beheading Lannisters if they dared stand where he could see them. The septon would not appreciate it if he lost control.

“Gods forbid. If they do, I will help you hide the hideous things in the keep so that you don’t have to take them back to Runestone. We both know what Rhea would think of golden lions.”

“She would sell them and buy more sheep,” Daemon said without hesitation.

Aemma laughed. “She truly would. Either that or she would buy a stallion to breed her mares or maybe new armor.”

“I am getting a unique wife.” It was strange, but all the attributes that Daemon had hated about Rhea in his first life were starting to amuse him. A wife that was frugal and practical had been an oddity to him in his first life. He hadn’t known how to interpret her disdain for his gifts, and combined with her tales of his inadequacy in bed, their marriage had been poisoned before they left the Red Keep. But now Daemon was amused by her bluntness and with a war looming on the horizon, he appreciated a wife who cared more about practicalities than baubles.

Aemma’s smile faded and she stared at Rheanyra. “Please have patience with your brother,” Aemma said quietly.

“Are we back to discussing Viserys?” Daemon was weary of the topic.

“We are. You went from the little brother who looked up to him to a man who could best him on the training grounds. You were given Dark Sister when he thought that it was his destiny to carry that sword, and now you look to have a wife who you admire. Viserys was so certain that you would rail against this marriage, and it was the only way in which he saw himself as a more successful man than you.” 

Her expression was full of sorrow. “And now when you speak of Rhea you have a lightness in your voice and you traveled weeks by dragonback to buy her sheep. He is jealous that he is losing his brother, but he is also jealous that he does not have a way in which he is better than you. Have patience with him and praise him and remind him of all of the reasons why you still carry love for him.” She rested her hand on Daemon’s arm, the shell necklace he had brought pressed between them. “Your brother loves you more than life, and it is his love for you that makes him difficult sometimes.”

Daemon studied Aemma. Viserys was the heir. All too soon, he would ascend the throne. He would have the Valyrian wife that Daemon had always wished for and a beautiful daughter. How could he have been jealous? He had not seen evidence of such in the dream. He had not railed against the scant crumbs Daemon held for himself. Worse, he had listened to all of Otto’s lies about Daemon being Maegor come again. But would Viserys have clung to Otto with his ingratiating smiles and smug arrogance if he didn’t have some underlying insecurity?

Aemma bounced Rhaenyra on her hip as the child fussed. “You two are more alike than either of you will admit. Maybe you would not have such a difficult relationship were that not true.” She turned and headed back into her room, leaving Daemon alone with the kingsguard. 

Apparently even with the wisdom granted by a dragon dream and the insults of an ancestor, Daemon still didn’t understand his brother. But of one thing he was sure. Aemma was wrong. He and Viserys were nothing alike.