Chapter Text
5 times Daeron took care of or helped his siblings and one time they took care of him:
For the purpose of this story, Dyanna died when her kids were the following ages:
Daeron-10
Aerion- 8
Aemon- 4
Daella- 3
Aegon- 1
Rhae- newborn (like 1-2months old)
1- Aerion (Ages 14 and 12)
Aerion had always been strangely interested in fire. He loved watching it and getting close to it. Daeron always told him that one day he would burn himself but no one ever listened to him. He also told his brother not to spend the last few days training outside in the stormy weather, but again, no one ever listened to him.
“So you see, the illness should hopefully be out of his system by the end of the week. Similar to the other cases we have seen in the infirmary.” The maester tried to explain as calmly as possible to his father as well as the rest of his siblings who were peaking from behind the door. Daeron had to give him credit, his father’s glare could make even the strongest men cower.
“And if he is not well by the end of the week?” Maekar growled, casting another look upon Aerion who was asleep, his brow covered in sweat.
The maester stammered out a reply before hurriedly excusing himself. After he had gone, Maekar had ushered the rest of the family out to make sure no one else fell ill. Daeron felt a twinge of pity for Aerion, he looked rather small sitting in that room alone. Not enough to stay with him though. He exited, ushering the other children away before heading back to his room.
Later that evening, Daeron was on his way to see if the kitchens had stock of his favorite drinks, but before he could, he saw a maester exit Aerion’s room.
“How does my brother?” He asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
The maester sighed. “He is asleep, but the fever persists. I shall be back to see him tomorrow, as there are other patients I must attend to. In the meantime, a servant should come to wipe him down with a cool cloth and give him the medicine I have placed beside him.”
Daeron nodded, deciding he would go fetch someone after taking a quick peek at his brother, if he was snoring or doing something otherwise unseemly, he could tell Aegon and Aemon tomorrow for a laugh.
He poked his head in the room and as he expected, his eldest little brother was lying in deep sleep. His father had been there before, as was evident by the chair and pillow next to the bed, but he must have retired or gone to see the girls as they did not like to sleep until they saw their father. The maester was right, Aerion was covered in sweat and needed to be wiped down. He looked even worse than Daeron did after a bad night. Daeron was about to leave but before he could, Aerion cried out.
“Mother! Where are you? Mother!” He thrashed in the bed, tears streaming down his face as he continued to cry out for their mother.
Daeron’s heart clenched. Aerion hadn’t seen him yet and he could easily slip out and fetch someone, but seeing his normally arrogant brother cry out for their mom in a fever haze made his breath hitch.
He sat in the bed and quickly pressed the cloth to his brother’s brow. He continued to wipe away the sweat slowly, from his face and neck until the thrashing began to calm down.
“Mother?” Aerion’s fever glazed eyes turned to look at him, the purple bright, almost ethereal. Daeron shook his head, continuing to wipe him.
“Only me, Daeron.” But he was not sure his brother even heard him, or knew who he was looking at.
Aerion continued to speak, the fever making his words almost illegible. “Mother….sing to me please.”
His brothers whispered plea was loud in the silence of the night. Daeron sighed slightly, before making a choice.
He stood up and went to the drawers, rummaging around until he found a fresh nightshirt before slowly divesting his brother of the sweat soaked one he was wearing. He would have changed the sheets too but decided to do that later when his brother was calmer.
Looking again at his little menace of a brother, he saw how Aerion’s blonde hair was still plastered against his brow, his breathing still shallow and fast. His eyes were darting around in confusion, like he couldnt see where he was. Daeron sighed softly, seeing in front of him not the boy who liked to terrorize his younger siblings and fight with swords, but the little boy that would hold their mothers hand as she explained the language of flowers to him in the garden and who always showed Daeron every fish he ever caught.
Daeron came to the other side of the bed, pulling the covers and sitting on the mattress. He sat beside his brother before pulling him closer to himself, feeling the heat from his body and the rise and fall of his chest. Aerion shivered slightly before snuggling in closer.
Daeron began to hum a soft tune he remembered their mother singing. He could not remember the words but the melody of her voice was still there. Slowly, Aerion’s breathing began to relax and his sleep was peaceful once more.
The next day, Aerion woke up with the fever having broken and Daeron promptly excused himself, going back to his rooms. He figured his brother would be too embarrassed to acknowledge anything that had happened that night or that he did not remember what happened, but a week later, Daeron opened the door to his room and found a book of poetry that he had been meaning to buy right outside his room. There was no note, only a small dragon drawn in the cover. He smiled nonetheless, sometimes, little siblings were not too bad after all.
2- Daella (Ages 13 and 6)
Daeron hated sleeping. Other people loved it, but then, they were not plagued by fire and death whenever they closed their eyes. The maesters had not been able to find a solution yet, and with running a household, father had no time for him, not like mother had.
Hence, more often than not, he found himself sitting in front of the fire in his room, trying to stay awake by any means possible. It led to quite a few horrible sword practices, but he did not care much for fighting in the first place. Tonight, he felt himself losing the battle to sleep, yet just before it could claim him, a knock on his door jolted him awake.
He was not sure if he had imagined it, so he paused for a second before realizing that yes indeed, someone was knocking at his door at this hour. He hoped it was not an emergency, as he did not have the capacity to think much at the moment.
Daeron opened the door, and raised an eyebrow a the sight of his little sister, shivering in the cold.
“Come inside Daella why are you walking around barefoot in winter?” Daeron chastised her softly, picking her up and sitting her on his lap in the armchair by the fireplace. He took a better look at her and noticed the tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I had a bad dream.” she mumbled. Daeron felt his blood freeze, hoping beyond hope that his sweet little sister was not cursed with the same burden as him, that this was just a bad dream of childhood, not of something greater.
“What was the dream about, dear one?” Daeron asked, hoping his voice did not shake too much.
She hiccuped before replying: “I had a dream that you got sick like mommy and left us too. You can’t leave us Daeron you have to promise!”
Daeron sighed, sounds like an ordinary nightmare then. “Well as you can see, I’m right here. Not to worry.”
Daella clutched him tighter, seemingly afraid that if she did not hold onto him he would disappear. Daeron got comfortable in the chair, rocking his body slowly as he hummed a tune, knowing that now was not the time for words, only his presence. As he expected, slowly she began to sleep and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep too.
The next morning, Daella found him after breakfast and gave him a flower and a hug, before running off to play with Aegon. He smiled softly, before putting the flower in a vase and keeping in mind to make sure his door was unlocked, in case another sibling wanted to pay a late night visit.
3- Aemon (Ages 14 and 8)
Daeron found him in the library, which he should have expected. What was not expected was the fact that Aemon had gotten in trouble for skipping his sword fighting class today. Usually he begrudgingly did it, and never got in trouble unless their littlest brother dragged him on an adventure.
Of course, Daeron only found out after he heard his father loudly cursing, and knew someone had to do damage control.
Aemon looked up from his hiding place between the bookshelves, a thick volume of history on his lap. He sighed, the sigh of a child resigned to their fate. Daeron chuckled before sliding down next to him.
“Relax, I was not sent here on anyone’s orders, only my own curiosity.”
Aemon remained silent, sulkingly looking at the wall. Daeron tried again.
“I have to admit little brother, I am most certainly impressed. Usually only I or Aerion manage to get father to turn purple as he did. Go on…I know you want to tell big brother everything.” Daeron added a wink, hoping to lighten the mood.
Aemon sighed again before shutting the book and speaking softly. “I am no good with swords.”
Daeron nodded, “Neither am I, not to worry you will not be the first disappointment in that aspect.”
Aemon’s lip twitched, the first sign of a smile. “Yes…you are rather awful.” He teased. Daeron pretended to be offended, shoving him slightly.
“I overheard uncle Baelor talking o father. He said that grandfather would not mind giving me permission to go and train as a maester. It sounds so much better than these useless lessons I am taking now! When I asked father today he….well you saw the aftermath at least.”
Daeron paused, turning the idea over in his head. On one hand, Aemon was only 8, quite young to be sent away in Daeron’s humble opinion. On the other hand, he seemed to truly be passionate about this endeavor, and Daeron did not want to take that spark away from him.
“Well, I suppose I can see why you would like that. No swords, only you and your boring books.” Aemon giggled before frowning.
“Yes but you saw father today, he shall never agree.”
Daeron sighed, mentally preparing himself. “It is alright Aemon, maybe uncle Baelor can convince him. Give him some time and you can be surprised. Father does want what is best for us at the end of the day.” Aemon was still young enough to believe in their father, Daeron did not want to crush him from now.
He bade his brother farewell before steeling his nerves. Knocking on the door to his father’s office, he waited for the gruff voice to give him permission.
“Father. May I speak to you about a matter that concerns me.” His father raised an eyebrow, sitting at his desk pouring over some important documents that uncle Baelor must have given him. Daeron stood still, thankful he had gotten sleep last night for once in the past month, it may make his father take him more seriously.
“Sit down.” His father commanded.
Daeron sat, bracing himself.
“I think you should let Aemon be a maester.” Daeron spoke hurridly, watching his father’s face become red as he registered what was said.
“I thought you wanted to speak about a matter concerning you.”
“Yes well, Aemon is my little brother. If he is upset then that is a matter that does concern me.” To his surprise, his father’s face turned less red, and he regarded Daeron with an almost approving look on his face.
“And why should I let him do that?”
Daeron paused, thinking of all the times Aemon struggled to hold a sword, or was bullied by Aerion about reading at the table, or how his face lit up with joy whenever they were told they had gotten new books in the library.
“Father…..Aemon is not like Aerion, he is not a warrior and you know it. And he is not like me, generally not good at most things. He is good at reading and leraning though, and he lights up whenever he opens a new page of a book. Do not force his spark to be dimmed by making him into something he is not. Aemon may not remember, but the look on his face when he reads is exactly the same look that mother used to have.” Daeron spoke slowly, not once looking away from his father’s eyes.
Maekar regarded his son again, before sighing. He waved a hand in dismissal. “Leave me, I shall consider your words.”
Daeron nodded, it was more than he had hoped at least. Before he could walk out, his father’s voice stopped him.
“Daeron….you may not be good with a sword, but you are good with your siblings.” Daeron stood in stunned silence for a few seconds before nodding and exiting the room.
Two days later Maekar announced at breakfast that Aemon was to go to the citadel to train as a maester. Aemon smiled at Daeron, and for a second, it was like his mother was smiling at him once more.
4- Rhae (Ages 17 and 7)
Daeron was about to pour himself his first cup of the day, fire and blood fresh in his mind, when all of a sudden a frantic knocking was at his door. Before he could even say anything a whirlwind of fabric and silver hair burst into his room and immediately began speaking.
“Rhae! Slow down it is much too early for this.” Daeron sighed, knowing it was going to be a long day already.
“Daeron! Did you not hear father at dinner last night? He said that there shall be a special ball for cousin Valaars nameday and that I can attend this year!”
“Well….if that makes you happy, then I suppose congratulations are in order.” Daeron had been completely unfocused last night, so he was not surprised that this information was new to him.
Rhae stomped her foot. “Yes and now you have to help me!” Daeron raised an eyebrow.
“Help with what exactly?”
“Dancing! You must teach me to dance! Daella says it is important for a lady to dance properly and that you danced with her at the last ball, so you must be the one to teach me now!”
Daeron groaned, regretting the day he agreed to ever help his sister. Of course, he mainly helped Daella because she complained that one of the sons of some lord was a creep and thus Daeron felt obligated to help. He knew being a good person would have unfortunate consequences.
“Yes but those were special circumstances. You can ask one of your tutors to teach you. Or tell father.”
“No! Father is so old why would I want to learn to dance from him. Also Daella said he never dances so he probably does not know how.” Daeorn chuckled slightly. Of course their father had refused to dance since their mother had passed away, so Daella and Rhae had missed out on that version of him. He groaned, stretching his arms up high.
“And if I agree to help, what do I get in return for my time and effort?” Daeron teased.
Rhae paused, staring at him consideringly before grinning. “ I shall not tell father that while he was away last week, you only came home one evening. The other evenings were spent being questionable.” Daeron choked on his spit. He needed to stop letting Daella influence her sister, they were both going to be able to blackmail the king at this rate.
“You are a menace Rhae Targaryen.” His little sister smirked, and nodded.
For the next week, Daeron spent his afternoons dancing with his sister. He realized he also needed to invest in thicker shoes because unfortunately, Rhae inherited none of her sister’s natural grace. His poor feet were so bruised by the end of the week, he was almost convinced she broke something.
Despite the challenges, she became semi competent in time for the ball. Of course, Daeron’s plan was to hide in a corner with his drinks but unfortunately both his sisters found him before he could claim to not be able to walk in a straight line, and that is how he spent a good third of his time dancing with two little girls.
Daeron would have quit much sooner, but his weakness was his sisters pouting and asking for ‘just one more dance’, and well, who was he to deny them.
5- Aegon (Ages 16 and 7)
“I hate him! I hate him! I wish he were dead!” Aegon burst into his room with a fury. Daeron should really invest in a lock system designed to keep siblings out. With his littlest brother this upset, there was only one culprit of course.
Daeron groaned, not in the mood to be a mediator today. “Aegon what happened now?” He spoke from the bed, not wanting to get up.
“Aerion threw my cat in the well!”
Daeron groaned again, of course it was going to be something like that. He has told his father he thinks Aerion was hit too many times on the head during training but no one listens to him of course. He looked up at his tiny brother, who had now jumped on his bed and was pouting, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.
Daeron sat up. “Is this the same cat that you tried training to attack him in his sleep?” Aegon shifted uncomfortably.
“Yes but-“
“Hush now. Let me think.” Daeron stopped him from going on yet another tirade. He sighed deeply wishing that his mother was here for such a moment. Although he was also convinced if she was here then Aerion wouldn’t be half as mad, but that was another trail of thought he did not want to think about again.
He sat up slowly, his stomach protesting the lack of food in his system mixed with an abundance of drink.
“Is it time for breakfast yet?”
“Brother….you are about to miss supper.” Daeron groaned again, yet another thing to bother him.
“Well. It seems we have a predicament. I am not in the mood to see father, and you are not in the mood to see Aerion. How about we compromise?”
Aegon looked at him eagerly, nodding his head like an excited dog.
“Come with me, and I shall show you a better solution than supper.”
Daeron got up, his balance swaying slightly, and his hands a little shaky, but steady enough to make the trek to the kitchens. He led Aegon down a narrow passageway that he used whenever he wanted to avoid the main hall, a trick taught to him by the serving girls who watched him get yelled at too many times. Aegon looked at him in awe, Daeron hoped he didn’t get inspired by his other habits too.
Silently, they made their way into the kitchen, and on Daeron’s instruction, Aegon ran in and began shouting excitedly about having seen a rat nearby. As the cooks had their backs turned, Daeron quickly grabbed what he could carry before they both managed to escape and reenter his room.
Aegon giggled excitedly, looking at the spoils that Daeron had gotten them. He was able to grab a couple of sandwiches and some cakes. As well as some of Aegon’s favorite jam and a small bundle of grapes. Aegon was delighted, proclaiming that this was the best dinner a knight and squire could have.
Daeron shrugged, ruffling his hair before distracting him from thoughts of squiring for him by telling him a tale of dragons and magic. They both finished their food in peace. It was a good evening.
+1 Daeron (Ages 20, 18, 14, 13, 11, 10)
Daeron’s head was pounding. He did not know why his head was pounding. He was also not exactly sure what was going on. He paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. He was clearly lying on something soft, most likely a bed. His head felt particularly heavy, and the rest of his body felt deeply tired. He sensed that there were others around him, but he was not sure why. It was dark, most likely because his eyes were closed. He tried opening them to sit up, but realized that this was taking enormous effort. There were voices around him, yet he could not make out what they were saying.
He gathered his strength, what little of it there was, and focused his energy on peeling his eyes open. The voices stopped.
Slowly, the blur of color in front of him solidified into something, or rather, several somethings. He stared blearily at the faces of his younger siblings, all five of them looking at him with varying degrees of concern.
Daeron was confused, unsure of why they all looked like they were hovering around his deathbed when suddenly, memories assaulted his mind:
Ashford
Running away
Hedge knight
Dragons dying
Trial of seven
Uncle baelor
Fathers mace
Pain. So much pain.
Ah. That was what had happened. He tried think of something to say, but the only thing he could think of was:
“Good morning.” His voice scratchy with disuse.
Before he could think of something else, Rhae burst into tears, her arms coming around his neck. Daella followed soon after with her own sobs mixing with her sisters. Daeron reached and hugged them as best as he could, unable to maintain it for long. When they finally let go, he saw that Aemon and Aegon had also been crying, each of them holding onto one of his arms.
Aerion of course, had no tears, but if Daeron looked closer he could almost swear his eyes were glassy.
“Shhh.” Daeron tried to calm them down. He began to cough before he could say much else. Aemon handed him a glass of water, and they helped him sit up, propping the pillows behind his back.
He got a better look at them from this view. Daella and Rhae had sat on either side of him on the bed, each putting a head on his shoulder. He also noted that he could not really see on the right side, but did not bring it up for now for fear of making them cry again. Aegon and Aemon had each been sitting on a chair on either side of the bed. Aerion stood slightly to the side, his eyes keenly tracking everyone.
All of them were in their nightclothes, the room filled with pillows and blankets and cots showcasing that this must have been longer than he thought. He even spotted a few of his father’s coats on a chair in the corner. Other details could be discussed later, he had more important things to do for now.
“Alright well, I am okay as you all can see. But based on your clothes it is night, you must all go get some rest.” Daeron spoke softly, not trusting his strength to do much more than that.
His siblings shook their heads, and settled beside him on the bed, refusing to leave him even for a moment. Daeron sighed with a smile, too weak to argue with the young ones. To his even greater surprise, Aerion himself sat in one of the empty chairs, his eyes defiant as if he was daring his brother to point it out. Daeron said nothing.
The next few weeks were spent relearning how to live with his new normal. His right eye was permanently damaged. He also had a weakness on his left leg that could not be explained. He had to learn how to use a cane and walk with only half his vision, as well as simply exist.
Rhae spent her time holding his hand as he walked, promising that when his balance was better she would teach him to dance.
Daella read him her lesson books and sat with him when he could not sleep at night.
Aemon tended to his wounds, teaching him how to bandage them properly and explaining the healing process to him.
Aegon gave him a steady supply of sweets from the kitchen.
Aerion…..Aerion did not do much directly, but he was always there, at the periphery. If Daeron mentioned missing a certain food, ti would be there at breakfast the next day. If he wanted a book, it would be at his bedside table. The sheets were always fresh and whenever Daeron needed to go bathe, Aerion would help him walk. He never said much, only ever looking at his brother.
One night, when Daeron felt particularly feverish and unsettled, he felt a cool cloth on his forehead and a faint humming sound. Daeron blinked his eyes open and turned to look at Aerion, who was busy wiping his brow.
“Why…?” Daeron asked.
“Why what?” Aerion replied, unable to meet his eyes.
“Why are you all doing this? You and the others being around me all the time?” Daeron figured now was the best time to get some answers, seeing as his brother did not look like he was leaving his side anytime soon.
Aerion paused, the water dripping into the bowl. He sighed softly, a small smile on his face reminding Daeron of the sweet child he used to be.
“In the past decade, you have taken care of us more times than we can count. We never really showed our appreciation properly, but we do appreciate you. Without you, the glue of our family, we would have certainly broken many moons ago.”
Daeron was stunned into silence. He did not think he did enough for his siblings, especially recently. Aerion seemed to notice his disbelief because he continued.
“You are the softest and kindest of us Daeron. I will not say it again so I hope you remember this conversation. Now go back to sleep, and let me take care of you.”
Daeron smiled softly, his brother’s humming lulling him back to sleep, knowing that as long as his siblings were okay, then he would be too.