Daeron really tried to improve after all the tragedy of the Ashford tournament. Perhaps he had gone a fortnight or more without drinking any kind of alcoholic beverage – until the dreams returned heavier and denser. Every night was the same: Majestic dragons flying over the skies of the red keep, playfully teasing each other. And then the skies would suddenly darken and one by one they would begin to fall dead to the ground as if they were just small, fragile birds. After death, they would burst into flames, and only when everything was engulfed in fire would the man wake up completely miserable and frightened.

Daeron went back to drinking.

He was dragged from his bed that day, two servants throwing water in his face trying so hard to wake him up. He needed to be presentable – or at least a little presentable. After days of sailing and riding, the princess would arrive to pay her respects to her father's ashes, the ashes of Baelor. Daeron had never seen his cousin in person; she had been sent to Dorne very early to fulfill duties – the Targaryens and the Dornish could only establish peace this way, by exchanging children and favors. Despite never having seen her, he knew that perhaps she was as unhappy as he was – a Targaryen alone, far from her family. In some vivid dreams he saw a small dragon with lilac scales, this dragon never followed the others and Daeron liked to theorize that this dragon represented his cousin.

Unfortunately, the buckets of water were not enough to completely awaken him from the alcohol. The man had missed the entire arrival ceremony. A horrible feeling of helplessness overwhelmed him, because why couldn't he just be a normal man? Why was he enveloped in tragedy and melancholy? After washing himself lazily and reluctantly, Daeron put on his usual black robes and left the chambers. He walked towards the Sept, something inside him telling him that perhaps she was still there praying for her father's soul. The heavy wooden doors opened with a persistent creak, and he entered the dark place, illuminated only by the numerous candles. Daeron's eyes immediately rested on the female figure; she was there. He approached slowly, kneeling beside the praying princess.

-- Cousin.

His voice, hoarse from excessive alcohol, echoed through the Sept.