"The blood of Lucerys will be repaid tenfold. A brother for a brother."
In which Daenys Velaryon, the oldest child of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon, must come to terms with the fact that the man she loves has committed an unforgivable crime...
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"I am malicious because I am miserable. Should I not be shunned by all mankind."
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The grounds of Dragonstone lay bathed in the soft hues of early morning, a tranquil aura hanging in the air like a whispered secret. Dew-kissed grass sparkled beneath the gentle caress of dawn's first light, while the distant echo of birdsong danced on the breeze, and Daenys Velaryon stood silently amidst the serene tableau, her figure a mere silhouette against the backdrop of the ancient stone walls of the castle behind her.
Beside her stood the Queen with a furrowed brow, her expression etched with concern as she gazed upon her daughter, sensing the coils of tension that wound so tight inside of her that she dreaded the moment she wound finally burst.
"Daenys," Rhaenyra's voice finally broke the silence. "Are you sure about this? You've only just returned. I cannot bear to lose you again so quickly."
The princess turned to face her mother, her eyes reflecting the weight of her decision. She reached out, taking Rhaenyra's hand in her own, the touch a silent reassurance. Pressing a tender kiss to her mother's hand, she then pressed it to her own forehead, a gesture of filial love and respect.
"I must do this, Mother," her voice resolute, her words inlaid with Valyrian steel itself. "I will return, and I will not return empty-handed. You have my word."
There was something dark in her tone, the same sort of vicious conviction that had hovered over her for the past few days, and Rhaenyra's heart clenched, a mixture of pride and fear warring within her.
"If this is truly your path, then I will not stand in your way, but before you go, I have something for you."
As Rhaenyra's words hung in the air, Daenys's heart quickened with anticipation, her uninjured eye widening in surprise as her mother produced the unexpected gift from behind her, withdrawing the sword slowly, its hilt gleaming in the soft morning light.
Daenys's breath caught in her throat at the sight of the weapon, her gaze drawn irresistibly to its familiar form. Tears threatened to spill, but she fought against them, steeling herself against the tide of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.
It was stunning; dark grey, almost black, with a ripple-patterned surface that was distinctive to Valyrian Steel. Daenys reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against the cool metal, tracing the length of the blade with a reverence born of familiarity.
Elegant in its simplicity, the longsword was devoid of the ostentatious ornamentation favoured by some, yet its beauty lay in the single sparkling sapphire embedded into the pommel, the colour akin to the clearest of skies on the calmest of days. It had been lovingly polished till it gleamed, well-loved and cared for despite the absence of its original owner, and just the sight of it brought back memories of laughter and the image of a smile that seemed permanently etched into Daenys's heart.
