Chapter Text
He had not expected to meet Aemma in the Dragonpit, had most certainly not counted on giving her the egg there, and had anyone suggested that he would spend so much time in a sept voluntarily, he would have laughed. And yet he had gone and he had prayed.
And then, when they finally left the dreaded place, to cheer Rhaenyra and rid himself of the heavy smell of incense and propriety, he took them down the Gods’ Way rather than leading them up the King’s and back to the Red Keep. It was too far to suppertime, too much daylight left for rumors to spread before they could return to Aegon’s High Hill, so Daemon took his spoiled little niece and her overly sheltered mother to the Cobbler’s Square and beyond.
When the carriage stopped in the square, and he opened the door, offering his hand to the occupants, Rhaenyra was in his arms, hanging around his neck even before he could utter a single word.
“Where are we? Who are all these people? What is all this stuff ?”
“We are in the Cobbler’s Square and these good people are the craftsmen that reside here. And all this stuff is the display of their crafts to lure custom into their shops.”
Rhaenyra let go of his neck and silently demanded to be dropped as her eyes went wide. “There’s more ?”
“There is much more,” he confirmed and smiled at her fondly as she bounced excitedly before he turned back to the carriage to hand her mother down as well.
“Would you mind explaining what we are doing here?” Aemma’s soft question brushed against his ear as he did so, and she was not quick to step back, awaiting his answer, and he was not eager to let go, captivated by the barely restrained fury in her eyes.
“Well?” Her quiet voice carried a note of impatience, but she did step back, and her gaze dropped to her skirts studiously as she brushed them out and Daemon was released from the spell.
His lips curled in a smirk. “I thought you not too keen on apologies, but by all means, we should head back if I was wrong.”
Her lips curled as well and her gaze darted up, a spark of mischief in it. “It is not queenly to apologize for saying the truth.”
Daemon offered her his arm. “Well, then, shall we?”
She reached out to take it before she froze and whirled around in alarm, her eyes darting around frantically. “Where is Rhaenyra? Where is-?”
The little girl appeared by their side as suddenly as she had gone, tugging at her mother’s hand. “Mama! Mama! Come! You have to come!”
Aemma let out a startled laugh and let herself be led. Daemon followed.
“May I have one? Two! I want two!”
He almost laughed out loud upon seeing their destination. Rhaenyra had been led by her belly, it would seem, and his own mouth watered at the delicious smell of tarts, reminding him of the last time he had eaten, the day before.
Aemma dropped to her haunches, her face all seriousness. “That depends, my sweet. Do you have coin?”
Rhaenyra’s mouth opened and closed, and she folded her arms with a fierce frown. “Why?”
“To buy them. I did not take any.”
“But… but… You are the queen ! You don’t need any! Just tell him to give me some!”
Aemma’s face turned regretful, and Daemon’s lips were twitching. “Oh, I could not do that, my sweet. It would be too cruel to ask a man to give up his livelihood.”
The man in question was utterly pale and likely more than willing to give up two tarts off his cart, faced with a queen, a prince, and a score of gold cloaks.
Rhaenyra’s face clouded and then cleared in a flash as she spun to Daemon and turned up her face at him, her expression imperious. “Kepa, buy me some tarts!”
He schooled his features and nodded solemnly. “As my princess commands.”
Rhaenyra bounced back to the cart, examining the wares carefully before making her choice, and Aemma gave him an exasperated look. He was utterly unapologetic. It was for parents to educate children, it was for uncles to spoil them.
“Shall I tempt you as well, my queen?”
Aemma’s look turned amused as she rose to her feet with a deep sigh. “I suppose you shall.”
His smile turned wolfish. “Good, because I, for one, am starving. ”
After Rhaenyra wolfed down her tarts, she bounced from shop to shop, her minders enjoying their treats and obediently following after her at a much more sedate pace.
“I should have thought to have a meal packed for us. Thank you for this.” Aemma’s eyes did not move away from her daughter for even a moment as she spoke.
“You have not eaten either?”
“Not since breaking our fast, no.”
“Ah, we should remedy that, should we not?” An intriguing idea was forming in his head.
She did grace him with a glance and a smile at that. “I thought we already did.”
Daemon snorted. “A tart hardly counts as a meal in your condition, I would think. And Rhaenyra seemed rather hungry too.”
“Well, what do you suggest then? More tarts? Return to the Red Keep?” She kept her tone light, but the irritation was plain in the tightening of her mouth.
“No, nothing like that. I happen to be the Lord Commander of the City Watch, lest you forget.”
Aemma threw an amused look over her shoulder and raised a brow at him. “You do not say. I almost did forget.”
He rolled his eyes at her. “What I meant to say is that the Watch has barracks close by. There is always something to eat there and good company to eat it with.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Good company for a curious little princess? I rather doubt that.”
Daemon countered her easily, his voice soft. “Good company for someone in need of friends.”
Her laughter did not cut off, it died a natural death and turned into a resigned sigh. “I suppose that is true.”
They caught up to Rhaenyra in the midst of her seriously explaining to a deferential shopkeeper that she had to buy whatever it was he was trying to gift her. Daemon covered a laugh with a cough.
Aemma let out another sigh, exasperated once more. “You do not have to buy what you do not want, Rhaenyra.”
“But I do want it! I picked it!”
“Are you not… too old for toys like… this?”
Rhaenyra blushed and dropped her gaze to the ground. “It’s not for me!” She cast a cautious look around herself and dropped her voice to a whisper. “It’s for my brother.”
“Ah.” The expression on Aemma’s face wavered, and she lowered herself to her haunches once more in front of her daughter. “ He is not going to be with us for many moons yet, dearest.”
Rhaenyra gave her a sunny smile. “I know that! I can keep him safe with me for him until he is here!” Another coughing fit took Daemon as a stuffed dragon was shoved into Aemma’s face. “See? He’s black! Black like the egg!”
“I can see that well enough, dearest, no need to shout.”
The little girl looked abashed for a moment. “I am sorry, mama.”
“No need to apologize either, but have you acquired coin while I was not looking?”
Rhaenyra, not missing a beat, turned to him, her eyes bright and her smile blinding. “Kepa, will you buy a dragon for me- my brother, I mean?”
“ Please, ” Aemma softly interjected before Daemon could even open his mouth.
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes long-sufferingly. “Please, kepa, will you?”
“Nothing would please me more, princess.”
“Great!” She twirled back to the poor shopkeeper. “Do you have a gold one too?”
“ Thank you, ” muttered Aemma under her breath and pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the hand Daemon extended to her.
Their little treasure held two toy dragons to her chest as coin exchanged hands once more, happy with her loot. “Thank you! You are the best kepa, kepa, and l will make sure the babe knows too!”
Daemon was beyond hiding his laughter. “I am your only uncle, Rhaenyra.”
Her smile did not lessen. “Still the best. Now we just have to get something for mama!”
He cast a dubious look around at the shops and stalls that dotted the square, all hawking rather ordinary wares, all far too ordinary for a queen. “If you say so.”
It was well after sunset, and past Rhaenyra’s bedtime by the time they returned to the Red Keep, the little princess asleep, nestled in the saddle in front of him, having insisted on riding back with him, seeing the sights.
There was a Kingsguard waiting at the top of the steps to the Red Keep as they rode through the gate, his expression stony. Daemon ignored him and took great care to arrange Rhaenyra in a way that would not disturb her sleep as he dismounted. He ignored him still, when he moved to give Aemma a hand down the steps from the carriage, his niece draped over his shoulder.
The white knight remained where he was and spoke only when they were on the stairs. “His grace, the king, wishes to be informed the moment Her Grace returns.”
Daemon rolled his eyes. “Well, then I suggest you go and inform him, good ser.”
The knight paused for a moment, opening his mouth, but then thinking better of it and walking off with a stiff bow, and they were left to walk to the Maegor’s in peace, Aemma’s own white shadow unintrusive.
Rhaenyra was plainly not as asleep as he had believed her to be, because when he bent down to lay her down in her bed, she clung on to his neck, not letting go. “No, wanna be with mama. Wanna keep mama safe with Syrax and Balerion.”
He turned his head to look at Aemma, carrying the two toys and looking about ready to either laugh or cry. Cry, he thought as her smile trembled and she gave him a mute nod.
Daemon lifted Rhaenyra back up and followed her mother to the queen’s chambers, the queen’s bedchamber to lay his niece to sleep in the queen’s bed. Where he had almost fucked her mother the night before. Where he would have fucked her had he had no plans and just a little less restraint.
He was in dire need of restraint as he straightened and turned to Aemma, standing right there, her eyes tired, but her skin glowing oh-so-temptingly in the candlelight. He would be a fool to try anything in her own bedchamber with her daughter, his niece, right there. People knew him to be there.
Daemon moved toward Aemma and told himself it was the exhaustion. It was his growing headache and the need to be quiet. He did not know what to tell himself when she shifted closer, her attentive eyes on his.
Fuck, his head hurt.
He shook it to clear the cobwebs, and the movement reminded him of the bag still slung across his back. He took it off hastily, and pressed it into Aemma’s hands. “May Balerion keep you safe.”
She chuckled softly and hugged the egg to herself. “It will be quite some time before he can. Until then, I will keep him safe by my side, I think.”
“One blessed egg, that is.”
Aemma’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling enticingly, and Daemon needed to leave before he did something unforgivably foolish. He gave her a nod, and she blinked at him as he made for the door.
The door slammed open in front of him, his brother bursting in, and Daemon stumbled back and fell in his haste to back away.
“What do you think you are doing here?!”
A whimper sounded from the bed, Aemma moving toward it in a flash, and Daemon glared at his brother as he got up from the ground.
“I was putting your daughter to bed.”
“Here ?”
Daemon’s head was pounding, and his patience was swiftly evaporating. “Yes, here.”
Viserys’ lips thinned in displeasure. “Rhaenyra cannot be here. I need to speak to Aemma. Alone.”
“I wanna be with mama. I promise to be quiet. I promise.”
His brother’s features and voice gentled, faced with his teary-eyed daughter. “I am sorry, sweetling, but you truly cannot stay.”
Rhaenyra clung closer to her mother. “Pleeease, let me stay! I don’t wanna gooo!”
“Shhhh, you are not going anywhere. You are staying right here with me, I promise.” Aemma did not bother turning to address Viserys. “Husband, as you can see, our daughter is distressed. I do believe it best to speak on the morrow.”
Viserys stood and stared, his jaw loose. “What do you…? You cannot…!”
“Good night, husband, goodbrother. Sleep well.”
Daemon bit down on a smile threatening to emerge and inclined his head toward her and then Viserys, quite happy to leave. “Have a good night, brother, goodsister, niece.”
There was nothing better than hearing the silence behind him, his brother stunned by the sheer nerve of his suddenly defiant wife.
There was nothing better than to fall into his bed, boots and all, finally able to close his eyes.
It had been one very long day.
Banging on his door had him falling off the bed and onto the cold stone floor.
Fucking hells, his head still hurt, and now his eyes were scratchy too, drier than a fucking desert. He did not want to move from the fucking floor.
The banging continued.
He rolled to his knees and then pushed himself to his feet with no small deal of resignation. Whoever it was, they better have a good reason, or he was going to fucking kill them the moment he woke up sufficiently to remember where he had put his sword.
It truly should not have surprised him to see Viserys be the one responsible for all the commotion and for Daemon’s regrettable lack of sleep.
“Brother,” his voice could not have been more neutral.
“Brother,” Viserys responded with equal depth of feeling and then stayed silent.
“Whatever brings you to my door in the middle of the night?” His clothes loose and stinking of nighttime activities, no less. Daemon’s stomach turned. “How did your talk, ” he almost snarled the word, “with Aemma go?”
Viserys gave him an annoyed look and threw himself into a chair. “You saw how it went. Rhaenyra did not want to leave and Aemma would not make her. I do not understand what has gotten into her!”
Daemon did, but even to him, the effect the knowledge had had on Aemma had been utterly perplexing and frankly fascinating. She had never displayed a spine, but now she was showing it to be made of the very best steel.
“I do not see what this has to do with me, brother.”
“I need your advice.” At Daemon’s silence, Viserys huffed and continued. “Aemma… She spoke rather harshly yesterday about Lady Alicent. Too harshly. I ordered her to apologize, but she did not and now the lady’s reputation is ruined. Ruined! Alicent is inconsolable.”
Daemon listened, and a heavy stone fell from his heart. “Inconsolable. I see. And how much effort did you put into this… consoling ?”
Viserys glared at him. “Do not be crude! Lady Alicent is a good and pious lady!”
“Who you made into your whore. Who could have expected nothing else to come of this. Who should have expected nothing else to come of this affair.”
“No one would know anything if Aemma had kept her tongue!”
Daemon laughed. “You truly believe that? Do you think Aemma, locked away in her chambers for most of the time, was the first to learn of this? Ha! More like the last!”
Viserys’ face crumbled. “Then she is truly ruined.”
Daemon rolled his eyes. “That was her choice. Unless you-”
His brother jumped to his feet. “No! Never! I am not an animal!”
“Then there is nothing to do but send her away. Mayhaps, with time and distance and enough coin, she will even manage to find herself a husband willing to overlook her unfortunate past. Better yet, send her father with her, to keep her company and to keep tongues from wagging. The longer they stay, the more the gossip spreads, the worse for her future.”
Viserys waved away his words, his face twisted in disgust. “I should have known you would bring Otto into this. This has nothing to do with him!”
Daemon did not hold back a snort. “Nothing to do with him? Do you think he did not know the moment you bedded his daughter? Do you think he did not send her to you?”
His brother pushed himself to his feet angrily. “I will not hear this nonsense from you! Lady Alicent is a kind and considerate lady that cares deeply about me! Had she not, she would not allow-”
He cut himself off as Daemon burst out into an uncontrollable laughter, collapsing to the ground, and then left in a right fit, slamming the door closed behind him.
Daemon could not stop laughing for the longest time. Oh gods, his brother was a fucking fool.