Capítulo 9: A Quiet Moment
A Quiet Moment
The night air on Dragonstone was cool and crisp, and a low fog rolled in from the sea, giving the island an almost ethereal glow beneath the pale moonlight. The sound of crashing waves echoed from below, filling the quiet, still air. Annatar walked along the rocky path, his boots scraping lightly against the stone, as the weight of the day bore down on him. He had been spending most of his time training with Daemon, and though the prince had become a mentor of sorts, there was still a distance, an unfamiliar coldness between them that Annatar couldn't shake.
For all the stories that had surrounded Prince Daemon Targaryen—his ambition, his ruthless drive—Annatar couldn't help but feel something else lurking beneath the surface. Daemon was unpredictable, violent, and driven by a hunger for power, but Annatar had learned that there were moments when the prince seemed almost... human.
Yet, there were things about Daemon that Annatar couldn't understand. He didn't know why the prince had taken such an interest in him, a boy with no true claim to Dragonstone or any power beyond his sword. The tension that had started between them in their sparring matches had only grown in intensity, and though Daemon pushed Annatar to his limits, sometimes Annatar found himself questioning the prince's motives.
After another exhausting day of training, Annatar needed a break, something to clear his head. He had always found peace in this small, hidden garden near the shore—a place he had spent countless hours with Aeron when they were children. Aeron had been like a brother to him, and even though their paths had diverged over the years, he couldn't help but long for their old, simpler conversations.
Tonight, Aeron was there, as usual, sitting on one of the stone benches and gazing out at the dark sea. He looked up when Annatar approached, his violet eyes narrowing slightly, as if sensing the heaviness in his cousin's step.
"You look like you've been through hell," Aeron said softly, his tone full of concern.
Annatar offered a half-hearted grin as he sat beside his cousin. "It feels like I have," he admitted, rubbing his neck tiredly. "Daemon... he's relentless. I don't think I can keep up much longer."
Aeron didn't say anything at first, his gaze scanning Annatar with an almost knowing look. They had always shared a quiet understanding, an unspoken bond that had only grown stronger over the years, despite the changes in their lives. Aeron was Daeron's son, but he was nothing like his father. Daeron had never been a Targaryen, but that had never bothered Aeron. What bothered him more was how little people seemed to notice him compared to the grand expectations that came with being Daeron's son.
"You don't have to fight Daemon's battles for him," Aeron said quietly. "You've been through enough already. He's not your father, Annatar."
Annatar nodded, though he couldn't deny how much he had come to rely on Daemon's presence, even though it often felt like he was walking on a tightrope, not knowing when Daemon's temper might snap. "I know," he said. "But... I don't know what to do anymore. He's made me his squire. I've never been in this position before."
Aeron sighed, his fingers brushing the stone surface of the bench. "You don't have to please him. You can do this your way, if you want. Daemon won't change, but you can choose who you become."
Annatar looked at Aeron, surprised by his words. "You're right," he said softly, though a part of him felt unsettled. "I've just—" he stopped himself, unsure how to put the feelings he had into words. "I've always wanted to be something more. But now... I'm not so sure I know what that is anymore."
Aeron gave him a small, reassuring smile. "You are already more than enough, Annatar. Don't lose yourself in his shadow. You're not a tool to be used. You're not Daemon. You're you."
Annatar let those words sink in for a moment. He had spent so long trying to prove himself, trying to live up to Daemon's impossible standards, that he had forgotten who he really was. And in the quiet presence of Aeron, he realized that his cousin had always known something that he had yet to understand. That it was okay to be himself, no matter what Daemon—or anyone else—expected.
"I don't want to be like him," Annatar murmured. "I don't want to become some... bloodthirsty monster. I don't know if I can survive here, if I have to be like that."
Aeron placed a hand on Annatar's shoulder, grounding him with his steady presence. "You won't be. I know who you are, Annatar. And I know that you won't let yourself become something you're not. If you keep your head straight, you'll find your own path. And I'll be here. You don't have to do this alone."
Annatar let out a slow breath, his heart lightening just a little. Maybe it was enough to have Aeron by his side. Maybe that would be enough to get him through this strange, difficult chapter of his life.
"Thanks, Aeron," Annatar said, his voice quieter now. "I needed to hear that."
Aeron grinned. "Anytime, cousin. Now, how about we leave this mess of a castle for a while? I hear there's a spot in the caves where the wind is perfect for a good conversation."
Annatar laughed, the tension easing out of his shoulders for the first time in days. "Lead the way."
As the two cousins left the garden behind and ventured toward their secret spot, Annatar felt a renewed sense of peace. Things might be complicated with Daemon, and the path ahead still uncertain, but for tonight, at least, he had Aeron. And with his cousin by his side, maybe he could face whatever came next.
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