Chapter Text
The television was playing an old movie about the Doom of Valyria called the "Doom of Valyria". It was a shitty movie, dramatized and inaccurate for the sake of drama. The clothes were inaccurate for the timeline and the buildings matched the architecture of Essos than any of old Valyria's. Dyanna had teased him saying he should relax his shoulders and just enjoy it and Maekar had laughed and said that he would if his thesis had not been on the culture of Old Valyria.
The second act had dragged too long and Dyanna slept slumped against his shoulder, his hand was around her and he held her tightly. He felt warmth in his chest looking at her. He pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, as light as a feather or so he hoped it to be because she woke up. She moved, confused, looked at him and then the T.V. and asked "It is still going??"
"Yes, the slaver has locked his daughter's lover in the dungeon, preventing from escaping, the daughter is now heading to the dungeon to free him with her dragon so they can escape together."
"They are still escaping? Weren't they escaping like an hour ago?"
"Yes, the only thing they got right is that the Doom took a whole day."
Dyanna laughed, before looking at the clock that showed that it was half past one. She turned back to him and pressed her lips to his. "Happy birthday." She whispered, he smiled into the kiss. Dyanna leaned towards him to deepen the kiss, Maekar turned his full body towards her but they were interrupted by a cry from their oldest's room.
Dyanna sighed in annoyance, and Maekar felt the same sentiment after the brief worry was gone. "I wish he would grow out of it."
Maekar paused the movie. "I will check on him."
Maekar had met Dyanna when she had arrived to King's Landing as an exchange student, they had formed a friendship when she had ran into his secret job at King's Delight Cafe. They started dating doing their Bachelor's at Sunspear, became parents doing their Master's at Summerhall and had got married after finishing their Ph.D. Daeron had been five and Aerion three.
Daeron was now sixteen and sitting on his bed, covered in sweat, his blanket was thrown on the ground. He was breathing like all the air of the room was running out. There were dark circles under his eyes, for a moment Maekar worried if he had relapsed before remembering that Daeron had not been out of the house since returning from rehab a month ago. He had ghosted his friends as well. Maekar's eyes burned remembering the happy child that Daeron had been, smiling and riding a horse.
Daeron had given up horse riding and was frightened of them to death and stopped showing interest in anything. The creak of the door alerted Daeron of his father's presence and he looked up startled and relaxed to see it was just Maekar. But he was still on his guard. Maekar could never make his children feel at ease around him, it was a bitter truth. Dyanna disagreed with it but Maekar was never one to hide from reality. When he had knelt the whole night, praying for the Mother's mercy, he had known he would never see his Grandmother again.
After Maekar had passed out while fasting and ended up in the hospital and confessed his shamefull sins to his family, the disgust in his parents' eyes told him that he must run. After getting to Sunspear he had made sure of that and now nearly two decades later he was proven true. Maekar sat down at the edge of Daeron's bed, "You are too old to be having nightmares."
"It was not an nightmare!" Daeron snapped, like he had many times. "It was a warning!"
At the age of ten Daeron had started having nightmares that leaked into his waking hours as well. This caused him to believe that the dreams were warnings, countless numbers of therapists and psychiatrists didn't help. The medicine that was given to him made him want to try harder stuff, and even drink. Maekar and Dyanna had first made sure that he did not get access to it, they did not let him go anywhere alone, they accompanied him everywhere. They checked his room every morning and every night.
It did not work but it made him think of clever ways to sneak out and hide his stuff. Maekar had been hesitant to send him to rehab after reading horror stories online but Dyanna had put her foot down and told him not to believe everything he read online. Which was rich coming from her whose first option to help Daeron was wilderness therapy. It did not help with the nightmares though and psychiatrists were wary of prescribing strong pills knowing his history.
Maekar sighed, he did not know how to dispel the nightmares, he did not know how to make his son sleep. He did not know how to help his son. Useless. He clenched the bed sheet in his hand. "They are not warnings," he said patiently. "They are only nightmares and hallucinations. Dr. Hayworth—"
"Hayworth does not understand! Father—"
"Enough." Maekar snapped. "Don't yell your siblings are asleep."
Daeron looked at him strangely, he sat up straight. The worry crept in as Daeron twitched, and again. The next few moments and hours had blended into one another enveloped by a fear so deep Maekar feared his heart would stop. He could only remember in snatches what had happened. Daeron had fallen down on the bed and started convulsing. It was on his bed but Maekar had grabbed him anyway and called for Dyanna who had come in running. Aerion had woken up as well, his room was right next to Daeron's.
Ambulance had been called the other kids roused, Aerion was made in charge but he had protested. Maekar had no patience for that, neither did Dyanna. A C.T. scan had been done and Dyanna had gone home when the doctor had said that Daeron was out of danger. Maekar sat on a chair by his son's bedside. When Daeron had been born he had been so small and it had scared Maekar. The nurse had said that Daeron was a healthy baby and yet Maekar feared.
Now, lying on this hospital bed Daeron looked so small for his sixteen years. Maekar felt so tired, the fear had not left him. It made Maekar scared the same way when he was left alone with him after the rose-tinted glassed had come off. Why was he remembering him now? The last thing Maekar wanted was to think of his family back in King's Landing.
They still did not know if Daeron was going to be alright. He had woken up briefly as the paramedics were wheeling him into the ambulance. He had looked at Maekar frightened, frightened in a way that made Maekar feel helpless and asked "Who are you?" He had not recognised his own father. His babe, his little boy. His first child. Maekar covered his mouth with his hand, to prevent a sob. He did not want to make a noise, tears flowed freely but he made no sound. He was good at feeling his pain silently.
****
Tumour.
The world was underwater, Shiera sat in front of him her silver hair was tied in a bun and there dark circles under her eyes. Dyanna sat next to him and yet everything was muffled.
Maekar.
Maekar.
"Maekar?"
Shiera was talking to him. "I am sorry." he said. "What did you say?"
Shiera sighed. She was Maekar's aunt by relation even if she was younger than him. Maekar's grandfather was a notorious womanizer, it was considered unusual if his affairs hadn't made the front page of the gossip magazines. Grandfather had hurt everyone, he had murdered Grandmother. Him and Brynden and Shiera were inseparable being so close in age. They were the only ones who knew the whole truth, not even Rhaegel knew that.
She now worked as a Clinician-Scientist in University of Summerhall Hospital. Brynden was still in King's Landing working for his father. He was the reason the elder Daeron Targaryen had not found out about Maekar's location and profession. Targaryen had become a common surname with the upper middle class, some had descended from the old Dragonlords that ruled over Westeros and a few parts of Essos while others had adapted the name hoping it would give them prestige. Maekar did not know which branch he was a part of but it was not the former.
"I was saying, that Dr. Blackwood has found a tumour in Daeron's head." Shiera said, Dyanna had her hands around Maekar's forearm, her nails were digging into it through his shirt sleeve and he breathe hitched. "It is on his frontal lobe, but do not worry it is not terminal yet but it will require a long treatment."
Maekar should have felt something, fear, worry, confusion, dread but he felt nothing. He just thought of Daeron being confused in the hospital bed as Dr. Blackwood asked him questions. Maekar had felt relieved that Daeron had known who he himself was and who Maekar was, when was his birthday and his favourite sibling (Aegon). Now, all of that was gone, the last time he had felt like that was in his childhood room as he had looked at the empty walls and empty shelves and stripped down bed after he had packed his life away in three suitcases, one backpack and three cardboard boxes.
"—can't be treated—"
"What?" Maekar was back in himself, the dread filled his heart again. "What do you mean he can't be treated? You just said—"
"Let me finish." Shiera sounded, annoyed but it was tinge with pity.
"Please," Dyanna said softly. "Be present, don't float away somewhere deep in your head."
Maekar squeezed her hand on his forearm in apology and reassurance. He musn't let her worry, he musn't seem unrealiable and useless to her. Daeron is her son as well.
"He can't be treated in Summerhall, we don't have the equipment required." Shiera was always angry about the lack of proper equipment at Summerhall hospital. "He will need to go to King's Landing."
The name of the city where he had been born, learned to walk, laugh, cry, known his greatest love and greatest pain, the city whose streets and alleys he had known better than any doctor knows the veins of a body, the city that had Rhaegel's laugh, mother's voice and father's books, and where he still lived. When Maekar had left he had not intended to return but when it meant the survival of his child, what choice did he have?