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The castle was quiet. Normally, with 6 children there would always be some level of noise, either from someone crying or someone screaming. Yet for the past 2 months since the death of Dyanna Dayne, silence had become the new norm. Even Aegon and Rhae, both less than 2 years old, no longer cried. It was as if they too were in mourning.
Daeron sighed, no use in getting too introspective this early in the morning. At the age of 11, he knew better than to sit around all day doing nothing, as normally it would result in a lecture by his father about how he needs to be a better 'heir', but since the passing of his mother, even his father hadn't been able to find the energy to yell at him and Aerion.
He stretched, deciding that even if he wanted to do nothing all day, food was still a necessity, yet just before he could make his way out of his room, he heard a small knock on the door. Daeron frowned, usually the servants wouldn't come until later to clean his room and kick him out to see some sunshine. Besides, the knocking was too faint, almost like a child.
He opened the door and found his hunch to be correct, there, standing in her nightgown and holding a brush with her silvery hair all over the place, was his older baby sister, Daella.
"Daella, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Daeron ushered her inside, slightly confused as to why her ladies maid hadn't gotten her looking presentable yet. Although at the age of 4, it was quite hard to make her sit still, so he didn't blame them.
His sister fidgeted with the hem of her dress before holding out the hairbrush and asking: "Do you know how to braid hair?"
Daeron snorted, figuring this had to be a joke before replying: "Of course not, who do you think I am?"
To his shock and immediate horror, his sister burst into tears.
"Daella! Stop crying! I'm sorry I'm sorry please stop!" Daeron hated it when his siblings cried, it made him feel like a failure of a brother. Also if his father found out he made his little sister cry, he would be sure to make Daeron train until he couldn't sit for a week.
He scooped up his baby sister in his arms, rocking her slightly before her sobs finally calmed down to sniffles. He found a handkerchief and helped her blow her nose, hoping that she would be calm enough to explain the importance of such a strange question this early in the day.
"Care to explain why you want to have me braid your hair? I thought your ladies-maid.....Arlene, was doing your hair every day."
"She can't braid my hair! She is horrible at it and too rough! It hurts when she does it!"
"Well then who used to do it? It was always braided so nicely wasn't it?" Daeron asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.
Tears began to well in Daella's eyes once more before she whispered: "Mommy used to do it. She said she would make me into the prettiest girl in the whole seven kingdoms. Now no one can do it and I'm not pretty anymore, and mommy's gone, and she hasn't come back yet and I want her back! I want-"
"Shhhh. It's okay. Shhh." Daeron shushed her before she could start sobbing again. He sighed, figuring that this was a problem that would not be so easily solved. There was one thing that still confused him though.
"Daella, why did you ask me for help then? Why not one of the other maids?"
"Because you're my big brother, and mommy said I could always come to you if I need anything." She stated simply, like it was a fact of life. The sky is blue, grass is green, Daeron will fix my problems.
Daeron felt his heart stop. He looked down at his sister, in her nightgown and messy hair, looking up at him with hope in her eyes, that he would not disappoint her. He didn't know what to do next. He was not worth this level of trust, not when he could barely hold a sword upright, when his father was constantly telling him he was not good enough, when his dreams haunted every waking moment he had. He was not worth it.
"I....ummm." Daella saw his hesitation and began to frown.
"You can't help."
At the defeated tone in her voice, Daeron snapped out of the self pity he was feeling. This wasn't about him right now. This was about Daella.
"I do not know how, but that does not mean I will not try." He spoke reluctantly, hoping she understood that this was going to be a huge mistake. He remembered the intricate braids Daella used to have before Mother's illness. That was definitely not going to be possible.
"So you'll braid my hair!" Daella squealed. Daeron held her in place to stop her from getting too excited.
"I will do it, but you must understand that I have never done this before, so please do not think I can do it like mother."
"You can't do it like mother because you are not mother. But you are Daeron and that is good enough." Daeron gaped, sometimes, small children said the strangest things.
He sighed and moved to his bed, gesturing for Daella to sit in front of him with her back turned to him. She squealed and ran over, shoving the comb in his hands.
Daeron froze, looking at the mass of hair in front of him as he realized something very important: this was going to go very badly.
A very long time later, too long in Daeron's opinion, he finished the final product, staring at his handiwork. It was quite possibly, the ugliest looking braid he had ever seen in his life.
"How do I look?" Daella exclaimed excitedly. Daeron prayed that she did not look at her reflection today as he spoke, lying through his teeth:
"Like the prettiest girl in the seven kingdoms."
She thanked him by turning around and planting a kiss on his cheek, before running off to get ready for breakfast. Daeron hoped that she would realize this was too tedious of an affair, and simply be satisfied with brushing it.
The next day, Daella came again.
And the day after that.
And after that.
And after that.
She knocked on his door every morning for the next two weeks. Daeron wished he could say that he made some progress, but he thinks he's gotten worse. His father would have definitely commented by now, if he was not so busy with other affairs.
Aerion commented once, Daella then bit him for insulting her. Daeron was proud.
Eventuall though, something had to be done. He couldn't keep letting his little sister go out like this. Swallowing his pride, he made his way down to the servants quarters one night, after he had sure his father had retired to bed.
He knocked on the door, hoping that someone would be awake right now.
"Your highness? Is everything alright?" One of the ladies, Helena, he thinks she is called, spoke with a questioning tone of voice.
"Yes! It is alright, I just....." Daeron trailed off, wondering how best to phrase his question. Finally he blurted out:
"Ineedyoutoteachmehowtobraidmysistershair."
Helena raised her eyebrows, looking like she was about to say something scathing, before looking at Daeron's pleading face.
"You came down here, where you are not allowed to be, in the middle of the night....to ask about braiding hair?"
"Oh so you're the one braiding the princesses hair! I thought she was doing it herself by how awfully done it was." A new voice joined them, the amused figure of Arlene standing at the door next to Helena.
Daeron frowned. "Hey! The braid I did three days ago actually lasted until suppertime!"
The women giggled, before exchanging a glance. "Oh alright then, come on let's do this." Daeron grinned, before following them into the servant's kitchen.
If anyone had come down at that moment, they would have been very surprised by the sight in front of them. Daeron Targaryen, heir to Summerhall, sitting at the kitchen table and braiding a servant girls hair, while getting ordered around by a second one. Definitely not a sight one would see everyday.
And yet, he came back.
Day after day for an entire fortnight until his fingers could finally maneuver themselves properly. At last, Helena and Arlene deemed him worthy of hair braiding. Daeron felt proud, but it was nothing compared to the joy he felt when at suppertime the next day, Daella's hair was still neatly braided the same way it was in the morning.
Of course, that only solved part of the problem. The second problem came several years later, when Daeron was 13.
He opened the door, having gotten used to his and Daella's little routine over the years, and was quite astonished to find both of his little sisters standing there.
"Rhae's hair is long enough I feel. It is time for her hair to be braided too." Daella said with all the authority a 6 year old could have. Daeron groaned, not knowing how his life came to this-wait, no he knew exactly how and he had no one to blame but himself.
And thus began the Summerhall tradition of hair braiding. Daeron knew to expect his sisters early in the morning, both equally demanding as they got older. To no one's surprise, the older they became the more intricate the braids became, Daeron having finally been able to master new styles. He thinks his father knows, but is unwilling to directly ask him to confirm.
He hoped his brothers did not know, as that was too much of a bother. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.
"Daeron! We want to play!" Aegon, never having learned how to knock, burst into his room one day. Daeron at 16, wished his siblings left him alone more often than not, but just like the Daeron of many years ago, still found himself unable to deny them most things, no matter how much it interrupted is other preferred activities.
"What's going on here?" Aegon demanded, looking at the sight in front of him. Daeron couldn't blame him. It was a strange sight after all.
Daeron was sitting on his bed, Rhae in his lap as he held her hairpins in his mouth, while Daella was leaned into his right side, reading out loud one of her lesson books. The fire was warm, and the rain was beating across the window. All in all, not the worst way to spend an afternoon, until now.
Daeron spat out the hairpins, glaring at Aegon and Aemon for interrupting. "Haven't you learned to knock?"
"Yes but this is faster!"
One day, Aegon's smart mouth would get him in trouble.
Daeron glared at Aemon, usually the more sensible one. He was no help now, shrugging and gesturing at the weather outside.
"It's been raining for days, I can't entertain Aegon forever. You're his older brother too, you help." Daeron wanted to protest that there was another older brother around, not just him, but decided he was not in the mood for bloodshed today.
"Daeron! This is our time with you! You can't even braid their hair so they should just leave!" Daella shook his arm as Rhae began to nod in agreement.
Aegon began to protest, both of them deciding to begin a screaming match in his room.
"Alright! Listen up children!" Daeron clapped his hands, feeling like a very unwilling babysitter. After the four pairs of eyes looked at him, he continued:
"Aegon and Aemon, if you both promise to behave, you can stay. The weather is dreary and I am weary. I shan't play with you but if you are good, we can read a story. Also, we are hungry and it is much too long until supper. So if you both bring back sweets from the kitchen then maybe the girls would also accept to have you around." Daeron figured bribery was his best shot at a peaceful evening.
He was right, the girls nodding enthusiastically. Aegon agreed, rushing out the door while Aemon glared at him, knowing he had to follow behind before Aegon got in trouble.
Daeron sighed, picking up the rest of Rhae's hair and hoping he finished it before the boys returned.
A while later, Aegon and Aemon returned with a feast, as well as the joyous news that "We saw father yelling at Aerion for trying to train in the rain! He's in trouble now!" Aegon did love watching Aerion get in trouble. Daeron shouldn't encourage it, but he was not a saint.
As the siblings sat by the fire, feasting on some stolen cakes and flasks of milk. Daeron wished he was not drinking milk, but figured it best not to traumatize the children too much.
Soon enough, they gathered on his bed. Rhae took her position of sleeping on Daeron's chest, her head resting on top of his heart. Aegon and Daella each picked an arm to latch onto and Aemon curled at the foot of the bed. Daeron began his story, trying to recall as many fairytales as possible and probably making the story very confusing. None of the children seemed to mind though, and not long after, he was surrounded by four sleeping kids.
The door to his room opened just as Daeron began to feel himself lulled into a sleep-like state, turning slightly he raised an eyebrow at the form of the one missing sibling.
"Care to join?" Daeron whispered.
Aerion scoffed. "I wanted to see if you were doing anything useful, but of course you're being used as a pillow."
"If you wake up the girls, father will be upset." Daeron replied, deciding that if Aerion did not want to take the peace offering, he wouldn't bother much further trying to convince him to stay. As expected, Aerion scoffed but to his credit he did close the door gently.
Daeron felt himself getting lulled back to sleep before hearing the door open again. He stifled a groan, hoping Aerion hadn't decided to come back and be a menace. To his surprise, it was his father standing at the foot of the bed, looking-for lack of a better word- fond?
Daeron kept staring at his father, until finally they met each other's gaze. Daeron thought he would be scolded about spending the day in bed but to his surprise, his father reached out a hand, lightly ruffling Daeron's head. Daeron stayed frozen, the stillness of the room only being broken by his fathers words, so soft that Daeron was sure he dreamed them:
"Well done, son. I'm proud of you."
That afternoon, surrounded by his siblings, Daeron slept without dreams.