Harrenhal was a cursed place, and Daemon knew it. Every corner seemed to hold the distant echoes of the souls that had perished there. But it wasn’t the fire that unsettled him. It was you.

Daemon had sought refuge in that fortress during his campaign, hoping to consolidate his control. Yet, since his arrival, something had changed. Your shadow began to invade his dreams, your laughter echoed through the empty halls, and your eyes seemed to haunt him, piercing the deepest corners of his mind. You were no mere witch; you were something else. Something far darker.

One night, as he tried to rest, mist crept into his chamber, wrapping him in an icy chill. Then, a whispered song reached his ears, a sad and melancholic melody. He recognized it, though he couldn’t recall when he had heard it.

"I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream…"

Your words invaded his mind as if you could read his thoughts, his desires. Though he didn’t want to admit it, you had awakened something within him. There was danger in your gaze, a promise of death, and yet an attraction he couldn’t ignore.

“Why do you keep tormenting me?” Daemon growled, rising from the bed as he groped for his sword. The room was empty, but your presence was undeniable, almost tangible.

"Do not fear me, Daemon," you replied, your soft voice seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "We've met before... in dreams."

The mist began to dissipate, and then he saw you, standing by the window. Your silhouette seemed ethereal, as if you didn’t entirely belong to this world. Daemon felt the air escape his lungs.

“Leave,” he demanded, though his voice lacked the firmness he had hoped for. “Your games do not affect me.”