Daenys Velaryon is the oldest child of Rhaenyra and Laenor Velaryon, but she shares the same true lineage as her brothers Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey. As the oldest child of the heir to the throne, she has duties to fulfill, duties that she is ex...
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Year: 120 AC
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The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time Daenys and Laenor's tour of Driftmark came to a close, their final destination being the castle library. It was a grand chamber, with towering bookshelves that reached up to the ornate ceiling, housing a vast collection of books, scrolls, and tomes gathered over generations. The scent of aged parchment and leather bindings enveloped the atmosphere, giving the space an air of scholarly tranquillity. As the duo entered, the soft glow of candlelight illuminated the room, casting intricate shadows upon the shelves.
Laenor led his daughter over to a large table set near an open window overlooking the moonlit sea. The sound of gentle waves lapping against the shores created a soothing rhythm as if nature itself was welcoming the impending twilight. Laenor walked over to one of the shelves, pushing aside several books to reveal a hidden nook. He reached inside and drew out a set of cards, eyes lighting up at the sight of them.
"They're exactly where we left them..." his voice trailed off as if lost in a memory.
Time had surely flown by, and once more he found himself mourning the childhood he shared with his dearest sister, now cut short forever. A wave of nostalgia washed over him. His gaze turned to a corner of the room where an ornate reading chair sat, draped with a worn velvet throw. He could almost see her there, his lovely Laena, with her laughter ringing in the air like the faintest of echoes. Being a twin was a strange thing. They had entered this world together, and it felt strange to exist in it with her gone. She had been his constant companion in this vast castle, her presence infusing every brick, every stone, every fibre of the place itself. He saw her again, in his mind's eye, sitting cross-legged on the floor as she read aloud to him.
The tapestries that adorned the walls seemed to hold her spirit within their threads as well. She had often traced their intricate patterns with her fingertips, her eyes alight with wonder at the tales they told. Now, those tapestries were a mosaic of memories, a visual testament to the bond they had shared. Each thread was a strand of their intertwined lives, woven with joy, laughter, and, inevitably, the pain of her untimely departure.
A gentle tug at his tunic drew him out of his thoughts, bringing him back to the present.
"Kepa.." Daenys mumbled softly, "You look sad again."
Laenor patted her head and shook his head, tears in his eyes, "No, my little flower. I am not sad. I simply have so much love for her... and now...and now it has nowhere to go. Grief is just love with no place to go."
Daenys nodded, mouthing the words to herself.
Laenor set his deck of cards on the table by the window. They were intricately designed, each one depicting scenes of dragons, sea creatures, and noble houses of Westeros. His lips curved into a warm smile as he motioned for Daenys to take a seat opposite him.
