Chapter Text
202 AC
Daeron loves hiding in the Godswood. His family is visiting the Red Keep for his grandsire's nameday. He usually stays close to his mother, but his mother had to rest after a long journey while six months pregnant. He never felt like he fit in with any of his cousins. Aelor, Aelora, Aemon, Daella, and Aegon are spending some gods-know-what-babies-do with their grandmother and her ladies. Aerion, Valarr, and Matarys are gone hunting with his father and uncle Baelor. Valarr is usually his companion, they usually talk about art or music. But Valarr is the golden boy. He can do anything and always fulfills his duty first. Valarr actually helps Daeron escape the hunting party to the Godswood. The first flower had just bloomed, and no one was staying in the Godswood. He is alone.
Godswood had always been a source of comfort for him since somehow all scary dreams he had just disappeared from his mind, and he could finally remember his good, peaceful dreams. He takes out some unruffled parchments that he had to sketch his good dreams and paint them later when they got back home. Just about when he started drawing a line, he heard a rustle from behind a tree. Daeron quickly looked up, and his gaze met with a pair of brown eyes in a girl. This girl had uncommon pink hair. He immediately recognized her. “Hello there,” she said with an amiable tone. Daeron quickly put his parchments in his satchel. “Good day, Lady Kiera.” Daeron greeted her formally.
Lady Kiera of Tyrosh is Valarr’s betrothed. She had spent her time in court preparing herself as the heir’s ladywife. Daeron never really spoke to her, besides some formal greeting. They are the same age, but Daeron didn’t really pay attention to the ladies in court. “I’m surprised to see you here. The others had gone to the hunt.” She said. “Yes, but I’m not really made out for hunting, my lady. I’d sooner be hunted by my father than hunting with him.” Daeron said sheepishly. “What are you doing here, my lady? Forgive my ignorance, but I didn’t know Tyroshi people worship the old gods.” Kiera laughed. “No, we don’t worship the old gods. I came here for peace. The babies and the ladies made my head hurt.” Daeron chuckled. Then there is silence.
“So, I saw you write something on the parchment.” Lady Kiera said to fill the awkward silence. Daeron can feel his cheek heating. “Yes, but it was nothing. Just scribbling.” Kiera sighed. “I should be honest with you. Valarr told me you would be here, and he thought we might be friends.” Kiera said hesitantly. Daeron now feels the heat on his cheek increased, “That’s very kind of him, but I prefer my time alone.” Kiera gulped, she must have offended the prince. “Valarr- I mean- I don’t want to disturb you, I just thought you might enjoy some company.”
Daeron grimaced. “It’s okay Lady Kiera, I’m not offended. He is just looking out for me. He worried that my dreams would haunt me even in my waking.” Daeron explained. Kiera raised an eyebrow, “Dreams?” Daeron sighs. If Valarr trusts her enough, Daeron decided he could trust her. “I have a curse called dragon dreams. My dreams came true. This is why I hide here. Somehow in these woods, I forget about them, and I can remember all the good dreams I had. I want to memorize the good ones by painting them, well, sketching them. I will paint it later.” Kiera is at a loss for words. He said all of that almost nonchalantly.
Daeron flopped down and took out his parchments. “Do you want to stay and maybe guess what I’m drawing?” Daeron offered, smiling. Kiera smiled and finally sat by his side. “Tell me more about your dreams.”
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At supper that night, Valarr sat between Kiera and Daeron. Valarr talked about the new sculpture he chose for his grandsire's birthday gift with Daeron. Daeron feels very grateful his cousin didn’t talk about the hunt and bloodied animals, just like his brother Aerion. He already had enough scolding from his father, too. Daeron, Valarr, and Kiera are indulging in the beautiful art culture in Essos. At the end of supper, Kiera whispered to Valarr, “You were right, I like him.” Valarr smiled and squeezed Kiera’s hand.
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“Daeron, wait,” Valarr called out. They are in the hallway to Daeron’s chamber. Daeron turned around and smiled. “Hey, I just want to thank you for spending some time with Kiera today.” Daeron tilted his head. “I thought you sent her to spend time with me, not the other way around?” Valarr smiled. “I want you to get to know each other better. She is going to be my wife one day, and I want you to be by my side when the throne is mine.” Daeron laughed at the absurdity of him being part of a king’s council, but he didn’t protest.
Valarr gets closer to him. “I hope your dreams are better.” Valarr brushed away a stray lock of hair from Daeron’s brow, his hand lingering for a moment. He softly put a hand on Daeron’s cheek and kissed him. After a while, Daeron pulled off slowly, put his hand above Valarr’s, and smiled. “Of course it’s better. I’m here, I’m with you.”
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209 AC
Kiera watched as the pyre took her husband and his brother’s bodies. She forgot how to speak. She never knew a heart could break into a million pieces, but that’s exactly what she feels. The Strangers had taken two of her children from miscarriage, her goodfather from a trial of seven, and now her husband, too? She had failed her duty as a wife and doesn’t have any piece of her husband left in this world. As the world spun around her, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. “Kiera, I’m truly sorry.” Kiera turned her head and saw Daeron. His hands tremble, and there are tears in his eyes. Kiera nodded, she tried to swallow the lump in her throat and managed to whisper, “I’m truly sorry for your loss, too, Daeron.” And then they cried together in each other’s embraces.
Kiera never felt so disgusted by herself. How can she feel comfortable in another man’s embrace in front of her husband’s body?
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228 AC
Daeron died some time before 233 AC, reputedly from a pox he caught from a whore.
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Fool. Kiera wiped the tears from her face. Daeron Targaryen, prince of Dragonstone, had passed away due to the pox he caught from a whore. She can hear the whispers. The Prince had betrayed his wife, how shameful. She wiped her tears once again. You fool, you shouldn’t let your heartbreak ruin our lives, your own reputation. The truth is, the whore is a male whore from Lys. He had brown hair and a streak of silver hair. Kiera knows that, as her maids talk about this man from Lys who just moved to a village near the Dragonstone. He is such a beauty, and what a shame that he is a whore. That night, Daeron is gone and comes back the next day looking like someone had broken his heart into pieces once again. Not long after, he got the pox, and in a fortnight, he died in his sleep. He surrendered to his illness.
Not far from the pyre, Maester Aemon almost collapsed out of guilt and sorrow because he couldn’t save his brother. Aegon held him with tears in his eyes. His sisters were embracing their father.
I forgive you. I hope you find the peace you never had in this world, dear husband. Their dear daughter, Vaella, squeezed her hand.
“My deepest condolences, sister.” She heard a cold voice from behind her. She turned around to see Aerion, the new Prince of Dragonstone. “Thank you, Aerion,” she replied quietly. “I apologize on behalf of my brother. He indeed had a taste to ride a beautiful whore from Lys than a beautiful horse to war. He indeed brings shame to our family. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you.” Kiera shook her head, “He-“ before she continued, something caught her attention. Lys. The whore came from Lys. How did he know? Everyone had thought the whore is common female whore. Her breath hitched. They stare into each other long. Kiera held her head high and finally said, “Thank you for your offer, brother. If you are so kind, I will send Vaella to study in Oldtown. I will stay at Dragonstone until Vaella can live on her own. After she settles, I will return to Tyrosh to stay by my brother’s side.”
Aerion nodded, “Of course, I will make sure Vaella has the best education, and you are always welcome here. This place had always been your home after all.”
Kiera nodded. Aerion continued, “I will leave you be.” Kiera didn’t say anything else.
Burnt. Whenever she is close to the throne, she is burnt. I won’t burn alone.