𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

Painful memories

Aemond stood there watching them.

"What do you mean?" She asked him.

Daeron hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "I don't want to die again," he said, his voice trembling. "I remember what it was like to die, and it scared me."

She felt a chill run down her spine. She knew that her son had always been a bit different, but she had never imagined that he would remember something like that. "What do you mean, my sweet? When did you...die?"

Daeron took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I was born before, remember? I'm Aenar."

Daenera felt her heart break at her son's words. "It's not possible..." She whispered. She then glanced at Aemond in pure shook. They never told anyone the name of their stillborn child, so how did Daeron know?

"Oh, my love," she said, pulling him into her arms. "I'm so sorry."

Daeron clung to her, his tears soaking into her shoulder. "But I don't want to die again," he said, his voice muffled. "I don't want to leave you."

She held him tighter, feeling the weight of his words crushing down on her. "You don't have to die, my love," she said, stroking his hair. "We'll do everything we can to keep you safe and healthy. And even if something does happen, I will always love you, no matter what."

Daeron pulled away from her, looking up at her with tear-streaked cheeks. "But what if I'm meant to die again? What if I'm just...meant to be gone?"

She shook her head, her eyes fierce with determination. "You are not meant to die, Daeron. You are meant to live, and to be happy, and to do great things. And if anyone tries to take that away from you, they will have to go through me first."

"Daenera. I need to speak to you outside now." Aemond said firmly.

"Am I in trouble?" Daeron asked.

"No, my sweet boy. Go find your brother and apologize."

Daeron moved towards the door but stopped afraid to go next to his father. Aemond moved out of the way, giving him space to pass and shut the door.

"What did you do?" He asked Daenera.

"Nothing."

"Then how does he know about Aenar?" Aemond asked angrily.

"I don't know." She said softly.

"Daenera, you promised me no black magic."

"I didn't. Not since - "

Aemond watched her as her mind drifted into thought. "What are you thinking?"

"What if it worked?"

"No." Aemond said quickly.

"Think of it, Aemond. What if I said something wrong, and instead of bringing him back, he simply came back as another person."

"Danny. Our baby died. Aenar died. We burnt him. That's not Aenar, that is Daeron." He explained.

"But what if -"

"No, Danny. I mourned our son. You mourned him. I can't do that again."

Daenera saw the look on Aemond's face she could see this was hurting him. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Aemond sighed and kissed her forehead. "What do we do about the boys?" Aemond asked.

"I'll handle it, but you need to try a softer approach with them. "

"I know. I don't know what came over me."

Daenera traced her finger over his scar gently. "Daeron is not Lucerys."

"I know, but things could've gone terribly wrong."

"I know, my love."

"You should spend more time with Daeron." She said to him.

"I try. He never seems to want to."

"Because you think he likes what Aenys likes, but he doesn't. He likes to study just like you."

Aemond smiled slightly. "I know."

"He is much like you, Aemond, but he is also different. Give him a chance." She said, touching his hair.

"I will, my love."

Daeron made his way around the castle with Shira at his side to find his brother. He finally found him on the steps with two wooden swords.

Aenys and Daeron sat on the steps of the castle, playing with a set of wooden swords. Aenys was older, and he liked to remind his little brother of that fact whenever he could.

"You know, Daeron," Aenys said, twirling his wooden sword around. "Father loves me more than he loves you."

Daeron looked up at his brother, his face scrunched in confusion. "What? That's not true."

"It is true," Aenys insisted. "Father always pays more attention to me. He takes me on hunts and lets me ride his dragon. He never does that with you."

Daeron felt a pang of jealousy in his chest. He knew that Aenys was probably right, but he didn't want to believe it. "That's not fair," he muttered, swinging his sword half-heartedly.

Aenys grinned, sensing that he had gotten under his brother's skin. "It's just the way things are, Daeron. Father knows that I'm the better son."

Daeron scowled, feeling a surge of anger. "You're not better than me," he spat. "You're just bigger."

Aenys laughed. "That's true, but it still means that I'm better."

The two boys continued to bicker back and forth.

"I'll prove I'm better than you." Daeron said.

"Fine, let's go then." Aenys said, handing his brother a wooden sword. "We'll settle this like men. With a good old sword fight."

Daeron wasn't good with a sword, but he was angry. The way he saw it was that Aenys got everything. His life. His father. His egg.

"You're gonna wish you were gone." Daeron mumbled.