Chapter five 𓃦 Return of the dragon wolf.

She feared it and she became it. Daenys feared the blue blood of royals running through her veins would slowly disappear. It did. She became more of a wolf than she ever was of a dragon. What dragon cowards like a lost pup? What dragon grows to dislike her own flesh and blood? The flesh and blood she so desperately wished for, the same flesh and blood she laboured for hours through sweat, tears, curses and prayers? She could be a good mother, she swears it. She can be better; she needs to be better. She watches them move - Maester Kennet's fingers reaching for the twin's bellies, looking if there's anything wrong. Robb sitting by the crib for hours, the wooden toys between his fingers, his toothy smile beaming down at his niece and nephew. Theon promising he'll soon train with them, that they'll become the greatest warriors the Seven Kingdoms ever saw, for them are bounded by blood to the two greatest Houses that ever existed. Cregan watches them in amazement. His eyes travel across the short brown curls that slowly started to form on their heads. He watches the lilac eyes opening and closing in searches of something greater. He tilts his head down so Daella can grab his nose, giggling at her father.

And Daenys watches it from afar. Like she wasn't there in the moment, like she watches herself through the eyes of others. She's a pale ghost in her own story, haunting people's minds and the corridors of the Keep. She thinks about it often; maybe it was her time to become a real ghost, after all.

Dressed in the white nightgown that became her every day attire for the time of her resting, she sat on the edge of the bed, toes shivering against the cold floor. Her fingers - dried blood used to the flesh - tapped against the edge. Her eyes watched the two babes as they babble up at their father. Cregan tilted her head under Daenys', making her look up. He smiled - sweetly and stickly like honey - and whispered, "hi there."

She tried to smile but she feared her lips didn't reach her eyes, "hello."

"I spoke to Kennet while you slept," he spoke gently, fingers gently tugging hair behind her ear, "we can leave for King's Landing. If you wish."

She looked up, his fingers tracing her jaw softly. Daenys stayed quiet for a moment, unable to speak. Then, she whispered, "thank you."

Cregan smiled again, "no need to thank me. I just want to make you happy, that's all."

Her fingers curled around his wrist, leaned in his palm that cradled her jaw and cheek. She looked away, whispering, "I don't wish to disappoint you."

"In what way would you disappoint me?" his brows furrowed, eyes searching an answer on her face but received none.

And she didn't give him an answer either for she wasn't sure why she was apologizing either.

King's Landing was far different from what she remembered it to be. The horses echoed through the streets of people, Daenys' eyes searching around the walls of the buildings as the carriage moved. A hand was pressed against her belly to ease the pain, a blanket placed across her lap by Cregan when they moved from Winterfell a week ago. It wasn't as bright as she remembered; maybe it never was.

"Was that a brothel?" Theon's voice echoed through the carriage suddenly, eyes squinted to see better through the half-closed windows.

"Don't even think about it," Cregan replied with a sigh, looking forward at the oldest of his two half-brothers.

"What?" he replied with furrowed brows, shoulder bumping at the wood of the carriage at the sudden turn, "it's my money."

"And who gave you the money?" Cregan argued back, fingers tracing Daenys' fidgeting ones.

"It does not matter!" Theon responded, louder than anyone would want.

Cregan kicked him, "can you not wake my children up?"

"Fuck off, Stark," he snickered back, fingers twisting around the now aching part of his foot, "you kick like a fucking goat or a horse."

Daenys chuckled by Cregan's side, eyes leaving the brothers and looking at Robb. He was prompted back by the window, his temple leaned against the wood, looking out. In contrast to her husband, she gently nudged her shoe against Robb's foot. She smiled gently, "what are you thinking about, sweet boy?"

Robb looked away from her and back outside while her brothers argued again about nonsense, "why did you allow me to come with you?"

Daenys tilted her head to the side, her thumb rubbing against Cregan's skin, "why not? You read stories about King's Landing; you were always fascinated about the tales surrounding the Red Keep. Why not take you with us?"

"I'm a bastard," he replied thoughtfully, quietly, "people like me are not welcomed in the Red Keep."

Daenys nodded slowly, "I know - I mean, I can only assume what it's like. I can't change my brothers' opinions on you. Or my mother's. I can only apologize in the advance."

His brows furrowed; a mirror of his brother, "why would you have to apologize? It's not you who hates me."

"No, it's not me," she shook her head, looking out of the window, "but anything my family does, also reflects on me."

"You should not feel that way though," Robb replied; a mirror of his brother.

She smiled sweetly, "neither should you."

Aranna sat near the doors of the big carriage, completely amazed by the two babbling babes - Maester Kennet noted that they were far more grown for their age than he usually saw. Daenys wished to be as capable of Aranna was. Cregan squeezed her hand with his fingers which made her place her head against his shoulder, wishing to bury herself deep within his flesh.

The Red Keep was as busy as she remembers it - servants busying themselves, the guards training in the yard. The wheels of the carriage almost caught themselves in the mud that pilled itself from the rain that just stopped. When the doors of the carriage opened, so did the doors of the Keep, revealing the faded clothes of the Grand Maester and his smile. His fingers squeezed a paper he was to deliver to the Hand when he heard the news of the princess' long-awaited arrival, wishing to be the first to greet her. Orwylle moved quickly down the few steps as Daenys - with Cregan's help - got out of the carriage, "my princess. My lord."

Daenys smiled, fingers clasping around the ache in her stomach, "Grand Maester Orwylle."

The man was lost of words, trying to find some. The princess chuckled through her nose, aching fingers reached for his hand, "I have missed you as well, Grand Maester."

"I was thinking more of saying that you have grown, my princess," he nodded with a smile, his fingers squeezing hers in reply, "but I have missed you as well. The Keep has not been the same without your presence."

"Less tears, I would assume," she tried to joke, biting her tongue to not show the sudden arche of pain but the tighter squeeze of Orwylle's hand gave it away.

"The tears are always present, I fear," he replied solemnly as Theon and Robb pulled themselves out of the carriage, "are you alright, princess?"

She nodded, "yes - Maester Kennet takes great care of me. Though I am always a pain in his arse, I fear."

"Do no believe a word she says," Cregan called from behind her as he helped Aranna with the children, "Kennet adores her."

Daenys shook her head with a smile, "I think Cregan adores me, not Kennet."

Orwylle smiled, happy the princess was treated well. The doors opened again, revealing the Queen making Orwylle remove his hand from Daenys' grip. Alicent flashed a smile; happy, dreadful, all emotions at once. She moved quickly down the few steps and to her youngest daughter, arms wrapping around her as if she was afraid to lose her once more, "Daenys."

Daenys' hands found the back of her mother's dark green dress, fingers grasping at the material, "hello, mother."

Jon cried out, missing the touch of his mother. Daenys wiggled herself out of her mother's arms - a dreadful moment for Alicent - with an apology, moving to the carriage where Aranna was trying to help the young lord. The princess gently grasped her elder twin in her arms, jostling him up until his head rested near her covered chest and until his tiny fingers reached his mother. She whispered to him, "you are alright, Jon. Muña is here." (mother)

Alicent watched her youngest daughter care for her children, nails digging in the skin around her other hand; eighteen is a strange age to be a mother. Cregan moved to greet the Queen and as Orwylle dismissed himself, Daenys turned around, "Grand Maester?"

"Yes, my princess?" he asked, turning to face her.

Daenys moved closer, moving the babe in her arms side to side to calm him, "if I may make a small request?"

"Anything," anything for you, he thought but didn't say.

"Robb here," Daenys wiggled Jon on one arm as she extended her free one to the boy who quickly moved to her, her hand clasped on his shoulder, keeping him close to her, "is very interested in the works of the Maesters. He read every paper and book written by those in Citadel and he worked with Maester Kennet back in Winterfell. If I may ask for you to take him around? Just for the time we are staying here."

Robb looked on his left with bright, wide eyes, his fingers already digging themselves in the skin. Orwylle looked at Daenys then at Robb and to the Queen: to keep a bastard in the court, to show him his work all under the eyes of the Queen. But he couldn't refuse the princess. So, Orwylle nodded, "of course. Come on, boy."

Robb looked at Daenys again who smiled and nodded her head to the Maester who already started walking back to the Keep, "go on."

"Thank you," he whispered to her before glancing back at Cregan - who offered him a smile, and running after the Grand Maester.

Helaena pushed the doors open, followed by the padding of four little legs - like little ducks following their mother - and the hand of Ser Criston Cole who held the doors opened. Despite not enjoying touch, the oldest daughter of Alicent opened her arms, gently tugging them around Daenys, careful not to squish the giggling baby in her arms, "I have missed you terribly."

Daenys smiled at her sister's warmth, tears forming at the sight - Helaena's hair pinned together in a few braids (no doubt the fine work of their mother), a golden dress adoring her features and her two children hiding behind her, "I have missed you too."

A tiny hand tugged on Daenys' dress - grey; like the Stark formal colours, dragons sewed on it. She looked down pass Jon and smiled at Jaehaerys, "I have missed you as well, byka zaldrīzes." (little dragon)

Cregan soon followed his wife with a small, faded bag, leaving Alicent with the company of two bastard people. Aranna bowed her head timidly while Theon didn't share the same nervousness. Aranna's fingers trembled when the Queen took Daella in her arms, the girl soon greeted by the smiles of her grandmother and aunt.

Jaehaerys hid his face in Daenys' gown as Cregan approached and knelt down on his level. He smiled kindly, "I do not wish to hurt you, my prince. I have brought you gifts."

Jaehaera smiled - a small gap between her front teeth adored her smile as she stepped forward, fingers already clinging around a toy, "a gift?"

"Yes, my princess," he matched her smile, pulling out two wooden wolves, "they are not dragons but still fine toys."

Jaehaera was more trusting of Cregan than her twin brother was - still hiding in his aunt's dress as Cregan offered the toy to him. She dropped the dragon toy, letting it fall in the mud as she moved to Cregan in favour of taking the toy in her hands, "do you - do you have wolves?"

Cregan hummed as she took the toy, "we do. But they are bigger. They are much like dragons. I can show them to you when you come visit your aunt one day."

"Like dragons?" the girl's brows furrowed as she watched the toy in her hands, "how?"

"They bond with people just like we do with our dragons," Daenys hummed from where she was still rocking Jon in her arms, her nephew still pushed deep in her dress, "Cregan has a direwolf too. Her name is Dot. She is expecting a few cubs soon."

"Cubs I hope Jon or Daella will bond with," he hummed as Jaehaerys finally took the toy in between his hands.

While Cregan busied himself with the Targaryen twins, Criston moved closer to the scene, "my princess."

Daenys looked up on her right, a bright smile adoring her face, "Ser Criston."

He looked at her, slightly tilting his head to the side, "you have grown."

Jon twisted his fist around his mother's dress, "so have you. You are quite different from the last time we saw each other."

"Years do that to a person," he hummed back with the same smile, fingers tapping the hilt of his sword as the sight of a Snow at the carriage.

The matching ring glistered in the bright son as Aegon stepped out of the Red Keep; his eyes were sharper than Daenys recalled. He was as sober as he was at birth, she realized. He grinned when he walked to her side, "truthfully speaking I didn't imagine to see you with a child."

Daenys puffed through her nose, Jon reaching to wrap his fist around her mother's finger, "as graceful as ever."

Her oldest brother moved closer, hands carefully wrapping around her, "I only jest. I missed you."

"I missed you as well," she sighs in his shoulder and she means it. Regretfully so, she missed him more than words could explain.

In the late evening, when everything was quiet, Daenys paced down the hallways; white nightgown, fur over her shoulders. She reached the King's chambers, Ser Willis smiling, "my princess. It is good to see you back in King's Landing."

She smiled at the man, fingers tugging the warm fur on her shoulders, "thank you, Ser Willis, I appreciate your words. Do you know if my father is in a good condition so that I can speak to him?"

He nodded, "I believe so. His Grace was just visited by the Grand Maester and the Hand."

Daenys nodded before Ser Willis pushed open the creaking doors, her feet padding inside the barely lit chambers. They closed behind her and her eyes wandered across the room - the Star of the Seven, the medications, the teas - until they reached the rotting flesh of her father. She slowly moved to the edge of the bed, seeing the bandage over a lost eye: the Gods laughed at him for the treatment he gave to his son at Driftmark.

"Who... who goes there?" he chocked out, turning his head.

Daenys squeezed the fur on her shoulders, suddenly small, nervous and fragile as she whispered, "your daughter, your Grace."

Viserys coughed with his eyes barely open - slicked back silver hair and purple eyes staring at him from the edge of his bed, "Rhaenyra?"

Tears formed in her eyes, "Daenys, father. Rhaenyra comes in the mor. I, uhm, I came back from Winterfell as soon as I could."

He breathed out, closing his eyes again, "Daenys, my daughter."

Viserys' fragile, rotting hand reached out for his daughter. She quickly moved to the side of the bed, sitting down and sliding her hand inside his cold one. He was not a good father, but he was her father nonetheless, "I have missed you, father."

Viserys let out a groan of pain, "help me get up."

Maester Kennet would've scolded her for putting pressure on her aching body but this was her father. Though with pain pulsing through her, she stood up and helped her father sit, leaning back on the pillows she prompted behind his back. She took a cup of tea and pressed it against his chapped lips until he took a few sips. She placed in back on the table before sitting on the empty space by his feet. The King breathed out, "it has been too long."

Her eyes were filling with tears as she watched her own father rot in his living flesh, "too long, yes."

"Have you been treated well?" he asked, his eyes opening slowly, cold fingers reaching out to hold onto any part of her - her arm, her elbow, her fingers, even if only a fragment of her nightgown. Anything.

"Yes," she nodded, helping him locate her arm and resting it in his on his stomach, "Cregan has been good to me. So is everyone else."

"I thought I would never have the privilege of seeing you again," he took a sharp breath through his nose, coughing suddenly.

"Me neither," she shook her head, looking down as she bit her cheek, "when I was - when I was giving birth, I thought I will never have the chance to return here."

"You gave birth again?" his words struck her more than he knew.

Daenys nodded, forcing a smile on her lips, "yes. A boy and a girl - Jon and Daella. I thought . . . I thought of bringing them here with me but grandsire believed you felt sicker when the Maesters came to visit you."

Viserys breathed out, shaky hand clasping over hers, "I shall... call for a tourney in their name."

She smiled, shaking her head, "there is no need, father. I did not return to have you do me any favours."

"You are my daughter," he choked out with a cough, "and they are my grandchildren. A tourney in their name."

And though she desperately wanted to remain by her father's side, she bit her cheek, whispering, "perhaps you should rest, father. The hour is late, I apologize for visiting in such late hour. Jon could not find sleep without my presence."

Viserys sighed quietly, his free hand reaching for his aching cheek, a wound across his fair, ghostly skin. His bony fingers rested across the remaining eye, slowly nodding his head. Daenys pulled herself from the bed, helping her father to lay back down. She watched him for a moment, wondering if kissing his cheek in farewell would be too much. Too little, maybe. Still, she bent down and quickly pressed a kiss on is temple, just above the scar and the wound, "I will see you in the mor. Rest."

Viserys didn't reply, slowly and achingly descending in sleep. His daughter watched him for some time, biting back tears as her aching fingers twisted the ring, her mind telling her not to allow her nails to dig in the soft skin again. Not until she's seen in crowds, not until she's still in King's Landing. Within the few minutes, she let her feet drag her out of the chambers. She said her goodbyes to Ser Willis with a kind smile and moved down the hallways of the Red Keep; what remained of her home, at least. Because it wasn't her home anymore, it hasn't been for a long time. What remained was a cemetery of the memories of her youth.

There, in the darkness of the corridor, far from the world, Daenys would her elder sister Helaena pacing around, her fingers twisting through a bright green material with a needle. Her younger sister stopped, fingers twisting the fur around her shoulders, whispering just loud enough not to scare her, "Hel?"

Helaena looked up and stopped pacing, "yes?"

"What are you doing out here?" Daenys whispered gently, moving closer to her, "the hour is late."

Her sister shrugged slowly before she moved back to embroidering a dragon on the material, "I could not find sleep. Nor could Aegon."

Daenys was in a few steps length away from her sister, "did he leave the Keep?"

Helaena hummed in acknowledgement; eyes trained on the material. Her sister stepped closer and grasped her fingers around Helaena's wrist, stopping her from doing what she was doing. She looked up to meet the tired yet always kind eyes of her youngest sister, "come to my chambers? We can continue there. Cregan busied himself with the children too."

Helaena nodded without a second thought. Daenys took the material and needle from her, lacing her free arm around her sister's, guiding her down the hallway and up the stairs. Helaena spoke quietly and gently, "how do you feel? As a mother, I mean."

Daenys' brows furrow, feet dragging themselves up the stairs, "afraid. Nervous. I do not - I do not feel close to them, I think. I so desperately wanted them for years and now... Now I feel like I do not even know who they are. That they did not come from me."

Her sister hummed, leaning her head down on her sister's as she walked alongside her down the hallway, "but you will know them. Some day. Stay away from the water."

Daenys looked at Helaena when they reached the doors of her chambers, "stay away from the water?"

Helaena nodded before the doors opened, Cregan meeting them, "Dae - princess Helaena?"

She smiled gently, "lord Stark."

He shook his head, fingers still grasping the doors, "only Cregan."

Helaena nodded before her sister gently tugged her inside the big chambers; a fireplace cracking, the moon shinned through the cracks inside the closed windows, Daella sleeping in the crib at the foot of the bed while Jon babbled excitedly, legs kicking up. Daenys returned her sister the material and needle and told her to sit on the armchair and that she'll be with her shortly.

Daenys moved to the crib, taking Jon in her arms as Cregan joined her side. He glanced at Helaena, who was already focused on the material, and back at his wife, whispering, "is she alright?"

"She said she couldn't find sleep," she whispered back, gently rocking her son back-to-back, "I found her in the hallways, working on her needle work. Aegon left the Keep earlier."

Her husband sighed, "no doubt Theon is by his side."

"He dislikes my brother," her nose scrunched up, Jon settled down, "I do not blame him; Aegon is not easy to love. I doubt he left with him. I do not doubt they are in the same pleasure house though."

Before Cregan could speak up, Daenys continued, "my father said he will organise a tourney. In the honour of Jon and Daella being born. I told him it is not necessary but he insisted."

Now his brows furrowed, "that is... strange."

Daenys bit the inside of her cheek, "I believe he knows. That he does not have much time left. You should've seen him, Cregan. He's practically rotting, he has scars all over his body, wound on his cheek, he lost an eye. I think he just wishes to go with the Stranger in a peaceful way. That he, at least, acted like a father in his last moments."