#fic: rogues and dragons

[illustrator-dani]

Guys, Arius thinks soup tastes better in socks.

How did Sarai fall in love with this man?

#fic: rogues and dragons #tdp oc #tdp Sarai #dani rambles

[happilyhertale]

Shared future, prequel – Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Summary: When your father told you that you were to wed your uncle, Daemon Targaryen, you didn't realise at first what wonderful moments it would bring you.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Fluff; Fingering

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

This is the prequel to my Smuff story "Shared Future"

Word count: 4.6 k

Other stories of mine

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Daemon looks up when he hears his brother's words.

He can't believe it – what he has longed for so long is about to come true?

"You want me to wed her?" he asks in disbelief.

Visery's eyes are fixed on him. Although Viserys has just announced it, Daemon gets the feeling that perhaps he didn't mean it. But then Viserys nods briefly.

"You yourself told me to find her a betrothed. That it is time to restore House Targaryen to its former strength," Viserys adds.

Daemon processes the words, but hesitates.

"You know I always desired her?" Daemon says. He doesn't know why he says it. Perhaps to annoy Viserys, or perhaps to make it clear that he really desires you.

But Viserys nods again.

"I know..." he says, "It was also the reason why I wanted to prevent you from wedding her in the first place."

Viserys just keeps talking while Daemon raises his eyebrows slightly.

"But I realised that's exactly why you would treat her best"

Daemon is silent for some time, just looking at his brother.

"You would take care of her and wouldn't let anything happen to her"

And now it's Daemon who simply nods.

Daemon leaves the council chamber – he can't believe it. Ever since you had grown into a young woman, you had attracted his attention in a different way. Rhaenyra and you are the princesses of the realm. Young and beautiful, you epitomise what House Targaryen should bring to the realm. And yet you could not be more different. Rhaenyra, wild and bold, and you, gentle and loving.

Daemon finds himself in his chambers, lost in the idea of finally calling you his.

He drinks far too much wine and his thoughts, like his eyesight, begin to blur, but he is sure of one thing. He must see you and talk to you about it. On the way to your chambers, he realises that his blood is beginning to boil at the thought that you were sitting innocently in your chambers, probably just in your nightgown.

He could just take you now. You'd fight back, he knows that. But... he wouldn't. Not yet. With each step, he grows calmer, reassuring himself with the thought that he won't have to wait much longer before you're his. Once he married you, he could claim you as his own and you would be pleased with that.

You sit on your bed and oil your skin. Your skin is still a little damp from the bath as the gentle scent of lavender envelops you while your hands glide over your legs. A soft sigh escapes you as you think about that your father announced today that you are to wed your uncle. But before you can think about it any further, you hear a knock. You look up, "Who is it?" you ask.

Daemon waits outside your door and listens to your soft voice. He can already imagine how he could elicit soft tones from you.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse and heavy with alcohol.

"Me," he says simply.

He is taking a risk, but he knows what the answer will be.

"Uncle Daemon?" you ask, somewhat incredulously.

You pause briefly in your movements, unable to remember the last time he visited you in your chambers. Whether he ever visited you in your chambers at all.

"Don't you want to come in?" you ask before you can really think about it. Your hands push your nightgown down almost simultaneously.

Daemon grins slightly, his mouth slightly dry. The wine is working on him, putting his mind in a more daring state. He feels the effects of the heat with which his thoughts fill him.

He enters the chambers and closes the door behind him. There is only one thought in his head: to claim you. To take you. If only his brother knew he was entering your chambers at night.

You look at him with your big purple eyes as he enters.

"Are you drunk, Uncle?" you ask with a slight smile as you realise he's having trouble walking straight.

You take more oil and apply it to your calves

Daemon steps closer to you and is now standing right next to your bed. He looks down at you.

"I'm not that drunk, niece," he says quietly, and the alcohol makes him seem much bolder than he otherwise would have been. He looks at you for a moment and then frowns.

"What are you doing with the oil?" He was still watching your movements, imagining what it would look like if he did it for you, how his rough hands would glide over your soft skin... until your voice brought him back to reality.

"Well... Since father just announced that we're getting to be married, you should know," you say, and Daemon looks even more confused. Your eyes are fixed on him as you continue to oil your calves.

"I just took a bath and I oil my skin after every bath, Uncle," you say to him.

Daemon can hear the tone in your voice when you call him uncle, but he's not fazed. You would soon no longer be his niece, but his wife. His next words make his intention clear.

"Well, when you're my wife, you should let me oil your skin..." you hear his slightly slurred words.

He holds out both hands as if to take the oil from you and do it for you.

But you just laugh slightly and take the bottle of oil yourself.

"Well... I'm not your wife yet," you say, but before you can say anything else, you see Daemon stumble slightly again.

"Maybe you should lie down, Uncle?" you ask worriedly.

But Daemon doesn't want to lie down. He has to claim you, his niece. He wanted to take you right away. As he speaks, his speech becomes slurred and he stumbles slightly again, holding on to the bed.

"I'm not that drunk, niece. I won't fall over... don't worry," he mumbles.

But Daemon's mind is somewhere else, he wants to do this, to feel your skin with his hands. He comes closer and tries to snatch the bottle of oil from you again. There's nothing he wants more than to oil your skin.

As you see Daemon move to take the oil bottle from your hand, you realise he's toppling to one side. "Uncle!" you gasp and immediately get up to stop him from falling.

"Let me help you," you say and lightly grab his arm. A low grumble comes from Daemon, but he lets you lead him to the bed.

He sits down, looking almost cute, so drunk.

"Why did you drink so much?" you finally ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

Daemon lets himself fall back onto the bed and looks up at you, eyes slightly closed. He can't help but be drawn to your sweet and loving nature. But still, it's too sweet for his thoughts right now.

He has a feeling he'll regret this tomorrow, but he needs you so much. He looks into your eyes, his words are quiet and it's hard for him to say some of them.

"I want you, niece."

He just said it. No hesitation. No trying to convince you with honeyed words or sweet talk. Just the cold, hard truth. He wants you.

You smile, but you lean slightly towards him. Your hand glides to his cheek, caressing it gently.

"I know... The whispers in the corridors have always made it clear," you say softly. As Daemon internalises your words, his eyes grow wide. You know it?

You just smile and walk around the bed to sit next to him on the bed.

"Is that why you've been drinking?" you ask as you drop onto the bed.

He closes his eyes briefly and nods his head. His voice is still soft.

"I've been drinking because I want to be brave enough to say what I feel"

At the moment, he is finding it difficult to keep his tone calm and not choke on his words.

"I want you." he repeats his words.

He is almost embarrassed to ask this question because he fears how much you would hate him for it, but he has to do it anyway. He opens his eyes with great force and looks at you - "Do you want me as well?"

As these words echo in your room, your breath catches for a moment. You don't know if you want him. What does that even mean... But you smile slightly. Your brave and feared Uncle Daemon seems so vulnerable.

"Well... father told me today that I have to wed you, so I guess that means I want you...?" you ask quietly, a little unsure.

Daemon can feel his heart pounding in his chest. His words slur slightly, and he couldn't help but smile at you. Things were going better than he had imagined, and he hoped he hadn't misunderstood the situation.

"What I mean is... do you want me as your husband?"

He wants to know the truth, even if it means you'd reject him.

You think for a moment.

"Well..." you finally say.

"I was always afraid of getting married," you say quietly, "I thought my father would marry me off to an old, fat lord..."

And then you look at him, "But you're neither old nor fat," you say a little cheekily and a smile graces your lips, "So, yes.."

Daemon's smile widens when he hears your cheeky words. Those words were music to his ears. They meant that he would hold you in his arms, that you would soon have his child, that the blood would remain pure. He feels a sense of triumph, the thought that he could have you made his pulse beat faster.

"Then you would wed me..." he says, still smiling. They are such simple words, but they make him feel so much pleasure. As he speaks, his hand moves to your waist and he pulls your body closer to him.

You gasp slightly, but a laugh escapes you as he pulls you closer to him.

"Yes... I wouldn't have a say in it anyway, but yes, I'll be your wife," you say.

You hesitate for a moment and look at him.

"But what do you think of that?" you ask quietly, "I mean... I am younger than you?"

Daemon puts his other hand around the back of your neck and pulls you even closer to him. He likes that you're so much younger than him, so naive in that sense. It means he can transfer his desires to you more easily. His grip on your neck tightened a little and he speaks softly, but he doesn't take his eyes off you.

"Age doesn't matter in these things," he murmurs softly.

His hand runs up and down your body and he feels how soft you are against his hand.

You giggle slightly, his fingers lightly tickling your skin.

"But you've always said that your young nephews and nieces are just little brats..." you say, "They're not much younger than me..."

Daemon smiles slightly, your words making him laugh. You were a smart girl, despite your innocence. He can imagine you could be a bit of trouble, but that wasn't a bad thing. You're funny.

His hand still glides along your body.

"There's a difference between children and you... You're a woman now. An attractive woman..." he whispers, but his words are still slightly slurred.

He becomes bolder in his touch and pulls you even closer to him so that your body almost presses against his.

You smile and blush slightly. His hands feel good on your body, but you're nervous – no one has ever touched you like this before.

"Uncle...?" you whisper.

Daemon smiles even more, he can literally sense that you're a little nervous. That would make you even more submissive. He notices how you blush, and that makes him want you even more.

He speaks softly, in his deep voice.

"Tell me... What does my niece want?"

In response to his question, he lets his hands glide even deeper over your body.

You hesitate for a moment. You feel a warmth inside you as his fingers continue to glide over your body.

"I... I'm still a maiden..." you whisper, "I've never kissed anyone before..."

And you gasp slightly as his hand suddenly grabs your bum. Your eyes meet and you become even more nervous.

"Can we wait until we are wed?" you suddenly whisper. Your nervousness gets the better of you and you're not sure where lying in bed with your uncle like this will lead, but you're sure you shouldn't do it until you're husband and wife.

Daemon is still smiling, your soft bum in his hand. Your words are exactly what he was hoping for. A maiden! His lips twist into a mischievous smile as you speak, his tone brimming with lust, "My niece is a maiden?"

His hand squeezes your bum even tighter as he speaks, but as you look into his eyes, he is caught by your purple eyes and his face softens.

"You want me to wait until you're my wife?"

He asks quietly, but surprised, the delicate scent of wine on his breath. How could he wait when you are pure temptation? But you just nod slightly.

"Yes... I mean... Everyone says it's nothing special and that women wouldn't enjoy it anyway..." you whisper.

"But I want it to be special... and when we're wed..." you whisper.

Daemon is surprised at how pure you are, almost shocked. He hadn't expected you, a princess, to have no experience at all. Your innocence was like gold to him.

"If that's what you want, niece…" he finally speaks in a slow voice that is both gentle and demanding. Then his hand slowly slides down from your bum to your thigh. It sounded like you had set your terms, but they were acceptable to him, a fair compromise. With any other maiden, he would have pushed the desire to the extreme until he got what he wanted. But you're not just any girl, you're his beloved niece. He doesn't want it to be all about him – he wants you to enjoy it too.

You nod and smile slightly, "Yes..." you whisper.

His fingers glide over your body again and you can't take your eyes off him. His eyes follow his fingers as they glide gently over the fabric of your nightgown. But his dreamy eyes are distracted when your voice rings out.

"But... do you think it would be wrong to try..." you say softly, hesitating as you blush, "...I mean... I've never kissed anyone before"

You sound as innocent as a young woman can be, and that arouses him so much.

"It would be wrong to try..." he whispers, and for a moment you feel bad for asking such a thing, until he speaks his next words, "...Because then I'd want more"

You gasp slightly as he speaks softly. His tone is almost pleading, filled with desire that grows by the second. He tries to hold back as best he can.

"But just kiss me, I won't push you for more..." he murmurs suddenly, leaning closer to you and again, you gasp slightly, but nod as he leans closer to you.

Your teeth lightly clamp around your lip as his hand slides to your neck and gently grips it. Daemon holds your neck ever so gently, running his thumb lightly over your cheek. He comes even closer, his thumb now gently caressing your lip. His breath was soft and even on your mouth now.

His voice is filled with all the desire a man could feel.

"Come on... Kiss me, niece. Just one peck...," he murmurs softly.

You exhale heavily, but then you lean forward. Your lips meet and you breathe heavily.

You could be bursting with nervousness, your heart trying to burst out of your chest. But after a short time, you slowly calm down – the calm that radiates from Daemon takes you over completely.

His thumb is still gently caressing your cheek and your lips just touch. His lips are soft, and you never thought lips could be so soft. But then Daemon moves his lips slightly. Slight nervousness flares up in you again, but you just try to follow his movements. Until his tongue suddenly touches your lips and you gasp slightly.

The way you kiss is so sweet and innocent, yet with a hint of arousal. It made Daemon's breath catch in his throat. At first he just wanted to tease you and indulge in the sweet caresses of his young niece.

He had tried to be patient and let you take the lead. But as his tongue touches your lips, the wine in his body takes over and he feels you gasp as he continues. His hand slides from the back of your neck to the back of your head, into your hair – and begins to guide you as he slowly slides his tongue into your mouth.

You are overwhelmed as his tongue slides into your mouth.

Your tongues touch and the feeling is indescribable. Such soft yet firm movements. So warm and yet somehow moist. You whimper slightly as his tongue moves further and his hand grips your hair tighter.

His other hand now moves slightly downwards, travelling to your thigh. He tries to give you the same pleasure you give him and starts to move his finger up your thigh.

You pull your head back, your breathing heavy as his fingers caress the inside of your thighs.

His eyelids are half closed as you search for his gaze. A warmth you can't describe spreads through you as his fingers continue to caress you – a questioning expression on your face.

Daemon enjoys it, every little thing you do is so satisfying and pleasurable in so many ways. Your innocence and submissiveness are so pleasing to him. His fingers slowly work their way up the insides of your thighs, getting closer to your womanhood with every caress. He watches your face the whole time. Your lips slightly parted and your eyes staring at him, you look slightly nervous. You don't know what to expect from this, and he liked that. He wanted you to learn.

A gasp echoes through your chambers as his fingers suddenly reach their destination, pressing gently against your womanhood. You grab his biceps, breathing heavily.

You've never felt anything like this before.

Daemon savours the sound of your gasp, almost as much as your hand gripping him. Your body tenses as he moves his fingers slightly and continues his caress. His words are almost like a sweet whisper in your ear, "There's still so much to learn, niece. I look forward to teaching you," he smiles with pure desire on his face.

And it grows with every movement he makes, with every little reaction from you. He's more daring now, his fingers move faster and suddenly you moan quietly. You look at him, slightly startled by the sound that leaves you. But the shock doesn't last long as his aimed movements make you moan again. Your fingers dig into the muscles of his arm.

"Is... is this okay? What we're doing here..." you whimper and a chuckle escapes Daemon.

A mischievous grin crosses his face. Your reaction is exactly what he had hoped for. You felt joy where you had only expected pain. Your eyes are still wide with excitement and maybe even a little fear. You're a little naive, but in such an endearing way.

"Yes. That's all right and natural..." he says in a voice of pure desire, his voice now just a murmur. He breathes faster, he wants more, but he wants to take his time.

The feeling becomes more and more overwhelming and you don't know where to put your hands so that they end up resting on his chest. You moan again as his fingers move faster. He likes making you feel like this and he likes seeing and experiencing your reactions. He sees your toes wiggle and your mouth open slightly. He enjoys it so much that he almost loses control of himself... The part of his brain that's trying to stay in control tells him to tease you, to make you beg for it, to make you scream. But somehow he resists. This moment is too precious for him.

But suddenly his finger slides into you and you whimper. You look at him, you're breathing heavily and then he leans forward again and kisses you. He growls slightly and you whimper in response. He savours every sound you make as you experience all this for the first time. You are so beautiful, so gentle and innocent, and this is his reward for waiting to split you open with his cock.

But still, his finger slides in and out of you slowly, taking his time, trying to make this a slow but perfect experience for you. He can feel your wet walls tightening around his finger, your tightness adjusting to his finger, he growls softly. Everything about it turns him on, not just your body, but the sweet sounds you make, and he takes each one in and would never forget it.

His finger moves slowly and rhythmically, creating more sounds from you, his finger soaked by now.

"Uncle..." you whimper softly and he kisses you again. Your hands on his chest grab his shirt and your whimpering continues. Your hand slides to his neck, pulling him closer to you – it feels so good for you. You just want to feel something like this with him... you need more.

Daemon just grins as he feels you pull him closer to you and your thighs spread slightly, making it easier for him to thrust his finger into you. Your moans and whimpers arouse him immensely, and that makes him even more eager to please you.

His finger moves faster, thrusting deeper into you. With the same eagerness, he let his tongue wander into your mouth as he pulled his finger out of you, only to push it back in. He growls again and pushes you back onto the bed and with one movement, he pushed himself between your legs, kneeling gently between them.

A gasp escapes you between your moans. Your eyes are fixed on him as he moves between your legs. His heavy breathing echoes through your chambers as he kneels between you and pushes his finger inside you again. But this time he adds another finger.

You cry out slightly as you feel the pressure. You whimper and reach for his arm. Daemon notices your slight discomfort immediately and bends down slightly. His lips slide onto yours and you whimper into his mouth as he growls slightly. His fingers slowly but purposefully find their way inside you and slowly the slight pain becomes pleasure. Daemon fels your walls clench around his fingers, your inner muscles spasm as he begins to move his fingers faster.

Daemon breaks away from the kiss and watches your face closely. He senses how sensitive you are. But the sounds that escape you as he guides his fingers inside you are like warm music to his ears. He wanted to hear you make those sounds again and again.

He moves his fingers further, daring to go deeper and find the perfect rhythm. Daemon smiles, he's enjoying this so much. Your breathing quickens and your grip on his arms tightened as he teases you. Daemon leans forward again and thrusts his finger harder into you. Your purple eyes meet and he sees pure desire in your gaze, with a hint of shame.

You can't suppress your uncontrollable moans as his fingers thrust faster. His other hand held your thigh, but then slid to your warm core. Light pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves follows and makes you cry out again as his fingers continue to penetrate you.

Your thighs begin to tremble slightly and a pressure builds up in your abdomen. You don't know what's happening to you, but you trust Daemon. His eyes are fixed greedily on you, as if he's expecting something from you, but you don't know what.

Daemon's breath gets heavier as he watches you, you are so innocent but your reactions turn him on so much. He's enjoying your first experience together so much and he knows you are as well.

He moves his fingers faster and harder. His deliberate movements on your bundle of nerves rub your wetness, make you moan louder, he wants to see you squirm.

He can feel the tension building up in your body, your walls clenching around his fingers again and again. His body is full of energy and he begins to growl with desire. He can't wait any longer, he's so aroused by the sounds you're making, your eyes wide and beautiful. He knows you're close.

When he feels your whole body start to tremble, your thighs want to close around his hands and your eyes roll back, he just smiles. He would make this good for you. He continues to move in the same rhythm, hitting just the right spot, and you're about to experience the most powerful thing you've ever experienced.

You cry out slightly as your damp walls almost crush his fingers. You don't know what's happening, but a wave of pleasure floods through your body. You moan and whimper, his fingers still moving slightly and you grip his arm tighter. He leans down and bite your neck lightly. His growls becoming louder, just hearing you moan and whimper is doing enough for him now.

"Uncle Daemon..." you whimper and look at him as he sits up again, breathing heavily. Daemon just smiles, he's just given you your first climax.

His fingers move slower now, and his eyes watch you with a smug expression as he whispers, "It'll be like this every night when you're my wife..."

You blush even more as he says these words.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of you and you whimper slightly.

Still breathing heavily, you look at him.

"Every... Every night...?" you whisper a little breathlessly.

Daemon grins as he looks at you, so flushed and breathless. He savours the thought that this would happen every night. He loves being able to teach you, and he knows he would enjoy giving you new experiences.

"Every night... And sometimes every day..." he says in a soft voice as he continues to smile, "But only if you're a good wife..." he whispers with that mischievous smile.

You gasp indignantly, but smile slightly. Exhausted, Daemon drops onto the bed next to you and stares at you. "I'll be the best wife possible," you finally say.

He grins again, you're always good at obeying. He puts his arms around you, pulls you closer.

"Good..." he murmurs.

He moves his head close to your face and your lips almost touch. His breath is almost warm and then he lets his lips brush your cheek and whispers softly in your ear.

"And to a good wife many things will be given..."

You blush even more, but giggle slightly as he grabs your bum again. He pulls you further towards him and your lips meet almost automatically.

Daemon smiles a little at your giggle, you still seem a little shy to him, and he liked that. You were so pure.

He moves his hand down to your thigh and slowly slides his fingers back between her legs to tease her again – and this would be repeated on many more nights.

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Tag list:

@hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @bl4ckph0enix @autumnhymns @fan-goddess @msmorningstaarr @dreamlandcreations @hopelesswritergall @wetbitchlibrary

#house of the dragon #hotd #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon smut #daemon fic #hotd daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon x y/n #daemon x you #hotd smut #house of the dragon daemon #prince daemon targaryen #the rogue prince #prince daemon #daemon targaryen x you #matt smith

[aemondtargaryenonlyfans]

STRESS RELIEF.

Daemon Targaryen x female!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; implied canon typical incest/ targcest (no named relationship other than husband & wife but reader speaks high valyrian), oral (m receiving), balls sucking, balls worship, cock slapping, breeding kink, fem reader (no mentions of appearance)

WORDS: 2.9 K

NOTES: I KNOW I said you won't get anything from me for the next two weeks, but this is an old story I love and edited, and I'm always in the mood to suck his balls. Ty Lana @zaldritzosrose 🤍

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

The door to your chambers bursting open with a thud, the thick wood slamming against the old masonry of Maegor’s Holdfast, is what forcefully pulls you out of your slumber.

As your eyes shoot open, you need a few seconds to adjust to the dim light of your chambers, the flame of the fireplace long extinguished and indicating it’s been a while since you found sleep.

Every sense of tiredness that has lingered in your bones vanishes suddenly at the noisy intrusion, more so as you spot the armor-clad silhouette of your husband standing at the threshold of your marital quarters.

He appears to be even more bulky and bull-like with the natural broadness of his shoulders accentuated by the heavy armor and the golden cloak, and just that sight alone has an aching desire filling your veins.

It’s the closer look you take that makes you aware of his labored breathing, chest rising and falling with heaving breaths, almost seeming as though he’s in great stress.

Whenever Daemon barges into your chambers at this hour, still wearing his armor, you know he needs to be consoled and pampered.

“Husband?” Your soft voice finally pierces through the silence, still thick with sleep from being awoken so abruptly.

A few, determined strides is all it takes him to enter the room, closing the door behind him as loudly as he’s opened it before. Although you know something is plaquing his mind, and that he’s not usually as harsh towards you as this, you still flinch at the thud.

Sitting up straight with the bedcovers bunched in front of your breasts, you have a puzzled look on your face. One of the few things Daemon has established fairly early into your marriage was the strict prohibition of you wearing any kind of smallclothes or nightgowns to bed, as he wants you to lie just as bare next to him as he always does.

He always states that there are quite a few practical reasons for it, with easier and quicker access to your cunt being the main one of them. Albeit you know for certain that he just loves to feel your skin on his when he falls asleep, solely embraced by the warmth and softness of your body snuggled up against his.

Clashing of metal accompanies his heavy footsteps as he approaches you, stern gaze fixed on your small frame.

The closer he gets, the more you are able to make out his chiseled features with long strands of his silver-blonde hair framing them perfectly. Even in the almost non-existent light of your chambers you notice the dark blown eyes, the adored lilac almost fully eclipsed by pitch black.

“Va aōha ybon,” he rasps, voice deep and commanding, and leaving no space for any kind of objection. On your knees.

You comply swiftly, the bedcovers thrown aside to reveal your naked form. A somewhat feral growl ripples through your husband’s chest at the sight, the curves and dips of your body enhanced by the light the moon casts through the windows.

The stone floor feels cold and hard as you sink to your knees, causing you to shift your weight from one knee to the other and back, trying to mend the discomfort at least slightly.

It usually requires your help to strip him off his heavy armor, but much to your surprise, Daemon manages to shred himself out of the majority of it all by himself, driven by sheer lust and hunger for you.

Where his silver hair is usually well combed and neat, the loose tresses now cascade down his shoulders and back visibly tousled and dirty.

Your hands lie folded in your lap, thumbs brushing over each other in a way to keep yourself calm. You have been married to Daemon for two summers, but know his silence never means anything good. It is threatening, and more often than not getting you into trouble, because he always has something to say.

As he stands in front of you in his full glory, only clad in a pair of dark breeches and a loose tunic, you hesitantly reach to place a hand on his sturdy thigh while his hand cups your cheek in return. Finding yourself leaning into the touch, you’re quickly repulsed as you catch a whiff of what smells like sweat, dirt and… iron.

“What have you done today?“ you ask innocently, though you aren’t sure if you want to hear his reply – that means if you even get one.

While the pad of his thumb brushes over the curve of your lips, his other hand slowly unlaces the front of his breeches, easing the confines of his half-hard member, and causing a wave of arousal to seep out of your cunt, anticipation making it clench around nothing.

“Oh, we have restored law and order,“ he purrs, the cocky smirk on his lips indicating that he’s more than satisfied with the outcome of it all. “The Kingsguard cleaned the streets from the city‘s scum.“

Listening intently, you just nod in acknowledgement, not at all surprised by your husband‘s actions. “And does the king know you did that?“

“I do not care if the king knows or not,“ he spits, impatiently tugging the front of his breeches down just enough to free his cock and stones. “He is blind, guided by the incompetent leech that claims to be his hand.“

A musky scent hits your nose when you catch sight of his thick cock. His musky scent, mixed with the salty smell of sweat. It has you licking your lips like a greedy whore, and if anything, you love it. It’s a sharp reminder that you have married a hardworking and ambitious man, and not a boy.

Your hand instinctively curls around his member, your index finger and thumb barely touching. His girth has always been something that impresses you. He’s considerable, leaving you wondering at times how it even fits into your mouth and cunt.

You slowly tug him to full hardness, stroking him the way you know he likes, even though your pace is a bit slower than usual. You listen to him rant about his brother, and the insolence of his hand, Otto Hightower, merely humming whenever your husband expects you to.

Once his cock stands to full attention, throbbing in your hand, you release it and instead fondle his stones, heavy and hot in your hand. The fleshy pouch they sit in is a bit darker than the rest of his pale skin and visibly sagged, but doesn’t hang too low.

Your actions earn a disapproving tsk from Daemon, despite the visible twitching of his cock at the new stimulation, and he wastes no time in fisting a good bit of your hair to shove your face towards his crotch. The scent is more prominent the closer you get, but not at all repulsing. Instead, it arouses you even more.

You’re not sure if it’s Daemon‘s usual lack of patience or his abnormal obsession with the king and his entourage that makes him greedy and needy for your touch, but you decide to not give in to him so easily.

Gently squeezing and fondling the sack of his stones, your tongue licks a flat stripe from the base of his member up to the bulbous tip of it. A salty taste lingers on your tongue, the few beads of his arousal quickly gathered and swallowed by you. You hum appreciatively at the taste, seemingly pleased to witness the affect your touch and presence has on your husband‘s body.

A sharp tug on your hair catches your attention and makes you yelp, your wide eyes finding your husband‘s demanding ones. “Quit playing games,“ he growls. A warning. But he should know by now that you are not one of his hounds, and what works with them doesn’t necessarily intimidate you.

Your tongue swirls around the tip of his cock, kitten-licking it until his heavy pants are replaced by annoyed huffs and grunts. Daemon doesn’t like you teasing him – not when he craves relief.

You keep your eyes neatly trained on him, studying his changing expressions to know whenever you’re playing with fire, and when it is best to follow his commands. Switching the positions of your mouth and hand, warmth brushes your face before the familiar musk seeps into your head.

Closing your eyes as all your senses are clouded by him, you latch on Daemon’s sac of stones, nuzzling your nose into the dark, coarse hair to take one of them in your mouth. Low purrs ripple from your throat, sending vibrations through his body.

You haven’t noticed, but your thighs clench and unclench repeatedly with each suck of your mouth, trying to soothe the aching settling at the apex of your legs. However, it doesn’t grant you the friction you crave.

“My, my, now look at that,“ Daemon coos. “Sucking my stones like a common whore. So desperate to have your mouth filled by me, hm?“

The condescending tone of his voice sends shivers up your spine, and you keen at the degrading nature of his words, moaning around his slightly slacked flesh.

Daemon is unable to tear his dark blown eyes from your full mouth struggling to take both of his stones. You’re trying so hard, but your mouth isn’t slack enough, causing you to nearly choke yourself trying to please him.

Droplets of your saliva dribble from the corners of your mouth down your chin, gathering in your jugular notch, and really making you look like you belong to the Street of Silk; a common whore desperate for her mouth to be stuffed by something, and not caring if it was filled by his stones or cock.

While you are messily suckling the sack of his stones, you tease a few licks up his length, tracing the prominent vein on the underside of it with the tip of your tongue.

You relish in the way he twitches and squirms under your touch, the deep grunts only spurring you on even more. But you also are soaked for him, core clenching and aching, begging to be used.

Daemon has started to tug himself off at the sight of your lips around his flesh, big hand the perfect size for his considerable length, while his other tightly fists into your hair to keep you where he wants you.

You hollow your cheeks around him, sucking with the tip of your tongue dragging over the sensitive skin. The familiar taste of manhood lingers on your tongue, and your jaw goes slack, finally managing to engulf his whole sac with your mouth. But when you try to pull away for a breath, Daemon only snorts and pulls you right back to his stones.

He harshly tugs on your hair, tilting your head back so you are forced to look at him when he slaps his hard cock against your face. Your saliva adds a sheen to his flushed skin, making him glisten in the dim light, and catches your attention, your eyes trailing over the length of his cock – you want nothing more than to feel those veins on your tongue.

As his cock repeatedly makes contact with your swollen lips and cheeks, the indecency of it all sends heat straight through your body, for it’s the first time he has ever done something like that.

Daemon bows forward, looming over your frame but coming close enough for you to feel his breath fanning over your face. Goosebumps prickle on your skin, and his intense lilac eyes send desire straight to your jumbled mind.

“What a wanton harlot you are,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Whores of the Silk Street do such things.”

While his degrading words go straight to your head, making you eager for more, you still cower beneath his dominating presence. “Yn ao hae ziry,” you reply, cocking your head sideways in an innocent way. But you like it.

It seems that your feigned innocence doesn’t convince him, because you suddenly feel something warm and wet dripping down your cheeks; his saliva. He has spat on your cheek, spreading it over your heated skin with a satisfied smirk ghosting over his features. Daemon rarely enjoys having you talk back at him, to tease him, and right now clearly isn’t one of those moments.

At the realization of what he’s just done, you feel your voice tighten in your throat, your lips pressing into a thin line as embarrassment floods your veins.

“Gaoman, yn…,” he muses, bending back and tracing the tip of his length along the slit of your pouty lips. “...nyke hae ziry tolī skori gaomā daor ȳdragon rȳ mirre.” With these words leaving his lips, his cock hits your cheek once again, almost as if he’s making fun of you. I do, but I like it more when you do not speak at all.

The grip on your hair loosens only for him to cup your cheek, fingertips digging sharply into the flushed skin of your cheeks. His other hand repeatedly taps the tip of his cock against your swollen lips in a demanding manner, begging for entrance.

“Open your mouth, or else I am opening it for you.”

You wet your lips, just the mere thought of having him down your throat causes a sense of soreness to linger in the back of it, and Daemon seems to notice your apprehension.

“I see your mouth begging for my cock, you filthy slut. Don’t act like an insufficient brat for you have done this plenty of times before.” He is right, but that doesn’t mean you’ll ever get used to his sheer size. Your thoughts, however, are cut short because Daemon isn’t Daemon, if he doesn’t take matters into his own hands.

The tip of his cock prods against your lips, and with the grip on your face tightening, you are all but forced to part them for him. There’s only little to no time to adjust to his size granted to you, because he sheaths himself inside of you in one, swift thrust.

A few seconds pass in which neither of you moves. Your nose is nuzzled against his pubic bone, the tip of it brushing the wispy trail of his hair, and you try to stifle the urge to gag and choke around him, your hands getting ahead with clutching his muscular thighs to keep yourself grounded.

Every muscle of his body twitches with pleasure as he grows accustomed to the warmth and tightness of you, his head tipping back to release a bawdy groan.

And then his hips start to buck into your mouth, allowing a wave of fresh air to fill your lungs when he almost completely pulls out; only the tip remaining embraced between your lips. A firm hand locks behind your head to stop you from pulling back.

Daemon’s hips thrust into your mouth with reckless abandon like he belonged into it, the bulbous tip hitting the back of your throat but never giving you anything you can’t handle. He knows you can take it, and that you like it.

The lewd noises of his soaked cock easing in and out of your warm mouth fill the room, spurring him on even more. At this point, you are soaking wet for him, droplets of your arousal leaking onto the stone floor beneath your legs.

Your cheeks hollow around him as you choke and sputter around his length, spit dribbling down your chin and bosom. His stones tighten with his cock throbbing on your tongue, ready to spend himself down your throat at any given moment, your previous teasing clearly coming in handy.

There are tears brimming in your eyes, unhelpful when all you want is to look up at him, watch how he scrunches his brow and puckers his lips as he gazes at you in rapture.

“That’s it,” Daemon groans, the pace of his hips faltering as he chases his release. “Take it all.” And that is when you felt it.

His hot seed spills down your throat, coating your tongue. You gag slightly when his hips start to stutter, cock twitching and pulsing with the force of his peak. Droplets of his seed spill from the corners of your mouth, mixing with your saliva and dribbling down your chin while you struggle to swallow the rest.

Nonsense spews out of his mouth as his groans grow more wanton, no doubt losing awareness of his volume. You are destined to be the main topic of the court's whispers in the morrow, just like your mother and father have been before you.

His fingers comb through your hair slowly, stroking your head as if he’s thanking you for a job well done, while he rides out his peak with languid thrusts of his hips.

When he finally stops to regain his composure, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he takes, he allows you to pull back from him, a string of your saliva connecting your swollen lips with the bulbous head of his cock, only breaking as you lick your lips to gather the remnants of his spent.

“Ñuha sȳz riña,” he rasps, pulling you up on your feet to capture your lips in a heated kiss. The taste of him on your tongue spreads over his tongue and causes him to groan. My good girl.

Like a man possessed, he flips you around and easily throws you onto your marital bed. When you land on your stomach with him following closely behind, mounting you and straddling your arse, you squeal and chuckle, ecstatic that it’s finally your turn.

“Tonight is the night I shall put a child into you. I want to see your body swell with my seed.”

Daemon Taglist: @barbiedragon @hypocritic-trash-baby @schniiipsel @avalyaaa @baizzhu @yn-jackson

#daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #hotd daemon #daemon x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon smut #house of the dragon #hotd #daemon fic #daemon imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd fic #hotd imagine #hotd daemon targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon daemon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon smut #rogue prince

[rax-writes]

↬ desperation

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ !! Smut, afab!reader, p in v sex, oral (f!receiving), not proofread, whole lotta breeding kink because my girlie @drizztdohurtin needed a fix

Upon deciding to turn in for the night, you only managed to remove one singular piece of jewelry before your husband's hands were on your hips, and his lips were on your neck, trailing desperate kisses along the curve of it.

"Hello to you, too," you jested, only earning a hum in response. It seemed Daemon's focus lay outside of pleasantries. 

Unsurprising.

Daemon made quick work of your dress, and the moment he got to your thin linen shift, he was ripping it in two, wrenching it apart at the front and earning a small gasp from you.

"Gods, what's gotten into you today?" you inquired, although your voice held no agitation or malice.

"A burning desire for my beautiful wife. What else?" Daemon replied simply, groaning softly as he cupped your breasts in both of his hands, massaging them and leaving more kisses upon your neck and shoulder. Moments later, he pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear before earnestly whispering, "I need you, ābrazȳrys. You'll let me have you, won't you, ñuha jorrāeliarzy? I'll make it good for you, you know I will, my love...."

As he whispered these promises to you, one hand trailed down to your still-clothed sex, his middle finger rubbing you through the ever-dampening fabric. 

Somehow, you managed to breathe out "Yes," and that was all it took for Daemon to hoist you into his arms and carry you to the bed. He all but threw you upon the mattress, and he hastily removed your underwear, throwing it so harshly that you'd think the garment itself had wronged him in some way. 

Daemon dove between your thighs then, throwing them on his shoulders in a hurried manner, as though he couldn't get his mouth to your cunt fast enough. It was immediately clear that he did not intend to take his time tasting you as he normally would, but that did not mean it was unenjoyable. No, Daemon knew precisely how to get you off as quickly as possible, and he accomplished that goal in record time, moaning against you as his hot, desperate tongue hastily lapped up the juices that spilled from you. 

You had half a mind to wonder if there was some sort of time crunch you were unaware of, as you watched him rip off his own clothing through half-lidded, hazy eyes. Once he was bare, Daemon met your gaze, and he had this... almost *feral* look in his eyes, as though he would either die or kill someone if he didn't bury himself inside you this very instant. 

You had seen that look before. You knew what he was desperate for – what he was desperate to do. 

Before you could address it, he was caging you with his arms and his body, moving your legs to his shoulders as he situated his knees on either side of your waist, already ensuring that he would reach as deep inside of you as possible, before the act had even begun. His eyes closed for a moment, and he exhaled very slowly, as he rubbed his cock against your wet warmth, before notching the head of it against your still-quivering cunt. He glanced at you, waiting for either confirmation or denial, and as soon as he saw your small nod, he filled you to the hilt in one swift thrust.

Daemon was not a meekly-endowed man, and the sudden sizable intrusion stole the air from your lungs. He usually rocked himself into you slowly, letting you adjust to his size before continuing. Even after countless experiences with bedding him, it was still a lot. It burned – just enough to feel positively fucking glorious. The gasp you'd let out faded to a moan, and Daemon knew that was a sufficient cue for him to continue, and he began a brutal pace. 

Finally, he revealed the truth you'd already surmised, cradling your face a little while asking, "Issa dōna ābrazȳrys... will you give me another? Another child. I've spent all day picturing you with a rounded belly and swollen tits, and it's driven me to madness, my love. I need it. I need to see you so beautiful and so fucking full of me again. Please, ābrazȳrys, let me.... Let me fuck another babe into you...."

As though to sweeten the offer, he stopped cradling your face to reach down and begin rubbing your clit. Your ability to respond was cut off with another moan, and Daemon added another "Please." The way he wasn't quite begging, but still making it obvious that he would only do it if you were agreeable to it.... That had you throbbing around him. The mere notion that this man, this Rogue Prince that so many fear, is seeking your approval for finishing inside of you and giving you another child, for no other reason than he's desperate to see the way you look while carrying them. It was dizzying.

"Yes," you breathed, and Daemon's eyes met yours, an unmistakable glimmer of excitement in them. "Yes, my love. Give me another baby. Let everyone who looks at my rounded belly know that I belong to you, and you to me." 

Daemon practically growled upon hearing your words, and removed his hand from your clit to move both hands behind the base of your head and grab two fistfuls of your hair in a tight grip, pounding into you with a newfound vigor. It didn't take him long to finish inside of you, the sensation and the positively feral look upon his face – the slight snarl of his upper lip, the way his teeth were clenched, the sheen of sweat on his brow – it all sent you hurtling over the edge as well, milking him until he had nothing left to give, his seed so abundant that it was spilling out of you as he continued to fuck the rest deeper, harder, desperate to ensure his seed takes hold within your womb. 

#daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #the rogue prince #daemon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #my writing #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen fan fiction #daemon targaryen fan fic #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #hotd fan fiction #hotd fan fic #hotd fic

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Let them hear (Daemon Targaryen x Wife!Reader)

synopsis: Daemon had never shied away from teasing you in public. No matter the setting. Today you feel up for revenge.

warnings: PWP, smut, public sex, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal sex, spanking, afab reader

word count: 2.1k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1 @ajthefujoshi @schniiipsel

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom/series or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: @bl4ckph0enix, @happilyhertale and I came up with the idea of sucking Daemon off during a council meeting on discord and we decided to each write a story for it to see what comes out of it with each of us. You two are so sick for this idea and I love you so much for it!❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

When a match had been made between you and the rogue prince, the romance between the two of you burned bright and very passionate. He was rarely seen without you by his side and the other way around as well. You always hung onto his arm, holding him tight to your body as you walked and talked. Hanging onto every single word that left his beautiful lips. Those lips that you never ever wished to leave yours when you are kissing in your chambers at night. Yet every night was followed by a morning in which your ways would need to part for at least a couple of hours so you could attend the important matters that your station postulated. All of it left little time for the two of you to spend together. Less than you would have wished for at least. In truth you still took most of the day for yourselves and when you fell asleep at night you would never have to wait to crawl into each other’s tight embrace. In truth all the time in the world spent together could not be enough for the two of you.

Though there was a time during those duties that did allow you to spend some time near each other. The small council meetings were boring as anything, making them very hard to listen too already. However when your aforementioned husband dedicated most of his time to additionally tease you under the table, staying focused got so much more harder. All that you could pay attention to was the way his large, rough hand ran over the inside of your thighs, teasing the seam of your small cloths. Even going as far as to push his fingers inside of you. Slowly pumping them in and out as he stretches you out. Without fail it would get you worked up and flustered every single time. Pulling him to the next free, hidden enough space to ride him into oblivion.

You play along with his games willingly like the good, little wife he knows you to be and if it is just for the knowing and unamused looks Otto Hightower shoots at the two of you. He was just a cunt. You understood why your husband lived to irritate the man. Until one day, Daemon gets what was coming for him the second he started this game.

Once more his hand finds his hand under your skirts, but this time instead of flushing and lowering your head, you catch his wrist and push it away. A challenging look in your eyes as his confused lilac ones meet yours. Using the moment of the other men being distracted with their conversation about only the gods know what, you swiftly slide down the chair to your knees and hide away under the table, between his legs.

“What do you think you are doing?” He bows down to whisper to you, but you only hush him with a finger to your lips and a mischievous smirk, telling him to lean back again.

With that action alone the dynamic between you changed. You could see in his barely contained face you are in charge now. A warm feeling spreads deep in your chest at the look of his reddened cheeks. Immediately you put that changed dynamic to good use, by feathering touches all over his thighs. Though he takes most of that foreplay off your hands as the predicament you are in makes him incredibly hard already. So you don´t waste any more time, but free his hardened length, lick the palm of your hand and pump him a couple of times. Across the table Otto Hightower was eyeing Daemon critically already. Proving once more, that even if no one else is paying attention, he is.

Watching Daemon´s head fall against the back of the chair and his lips parting to make way for his staggering breaths. Settling your hand at the base of his cock, you place a few kisses to his tip until you hear a tiny whimper from above. Biting back a smile you finally take him into your mouth. Only a little at first and then more and more with every time you moved your head down. Setting an almost torturingly slow pace, you add a rhythm to your head bobbing, that has your husbands hips meeting your lips. Your mouth feels so good around him. So warm and wet, your cunt is still better, but this is as close to heaven as he can get. Your breathing grows ragged now as well, wishing for nothing more than to be alone with Daemon in this moments. You get pulled from your thoughts by Daemons cock hitting the back of your throat. Trying your best not to make any gagging sounds to give you away you swallow heavily, barely managing to keep yourself together. Daemon on the other hand is a lot more careless. Groaning quietly as he pleases and as if you two where the only two people in the room. Letting him pop out of your mouth for a moment to calm your breathing, your hands keep stroking his length. One at the base, playing with his stones and the other teasing the tip. The conversation around you begins to quieten down as the meeting wraps up, meaning you needed to be even more careful.

“Shh. You need to be quiet or they will hear.” You whisper up at Daemon.

“So, let them.” He murmurs his answer back at you. Almost a low growl really. He knows it sends a shock of desire through your body whenever he does. He sounds so primal, you can´t help it and so your lips wrap around his cock again. His fingers thread into your hair, a dull pain driving through your skull as he pulls at the tresses. You hold back another whimper, yet his sounds of pleasure become more obvious by the second. Pulling a look or two towards him, but none of the council members say anything. They know better than to cross the rogue prince.

Daemon pulls you in closer by your hair, attempting to get back his control over you, but you pull away your head once more. Lightly slapping his inner thigh a couple of times. You both know it doesn´t hurt him, but it gets your point across. You were the one in control, at least for now.

Coming up from your hiding place again you sit back down just in time to grab his cock again in your hand to ward off his disappointed gaze and for the meeting to wrap up. One after another the lords at the big table say there farewells Until it is only the two of you, the hand and Viserys left.

“Are you not going to join us?” Your husbands older brother asks, none the wiser to the situation mere inches away from you.

“We will be with you soon, brother. My dear lady wife and I have something important to discuss first.” Daemon gives you a stern look. Signaling that your time in charge was coming to a close.

The king nods and then pulls lord Hightower with him, but not before he can make one of his remarks.

“I am sure you and your wife have pressing matters to discuss. I do hope everything is fine between the two of you. It would be a shame to see such a young marriage fail so soon.”

“I thank you for your concern, your lordship. Though I can assure you that nothing of the sort will be happening any time soon.” You mime the ever dutiful wife. Glad to see the two men leave, letting the heavy door fall close with a thud as they resume their conversation.

Once you are all alone in the big council room, Daemon is quick to bend you over the table. Opening his trousers and pulling them down along with his small clothes. Then he bunches your skirts around your hips. Almost ripping your small clothes in the process of getting them out of the way. A desperate whimper leaves your lips as he delivers a few generous spanks to your behind.

“You are such a naughty girl.” He growls into your ear. “Cannot even keep your fingers off me for a whole council meeting, can you? You are that needy?”

“I just did what you always do to me.” Your voice is weak from the force behind the impact of his rough hands against your jiggling flesh.

“Ah, that´s how it is. I am sure you can handle the consequences for such a behavior too then.” Daemon delivers another set of slaps to the reddened skin of your ass. Grabbing your hips in a bruising grip, he enters your already dripping core in one swift push. The movement so slow, that you can feel every inch dragging against your walls as he enters you. When he bottoms out, his large frame presses you into the edge of the table. The pain of the edge of the hard wood and the stretch of your inner walls mixing with the arousal of the moment, swirling in the depths of your stomach to send a fire of need through your veins and setting every nerve ending alight with it.

“Daemon!” You cry out, wanting him to start moving already. The attempt to move your hips against his yourself is futile as your body is entirely trapped in its position.

“Not my name, love. You know how to address me if you want something.” You can practically hear the smug smirk in his voice.

“My king, please. I need you to fuck me.” Your breathy plea reaches his ears.

“Anything my queen wishes.” Daemon barely finishes the sentence before he sets a fast paced rhythm with his thrusts. His hips rolling perfectly to create a slapping sound every time your skin meets. One of your husbands hands loosens from your hips and wanders up to the middle of your back to push you onto the table further, securing you on place even more as he leans over you. This simple action alone elicits the most desperate moans from your lungs. His breath fans over your ear as he presses hot, wet kisses to your skin.

“Fuck, you feel so good inside of me.” Leaning your upper body up, you stretch your neck back, overcome by the desire to feel his lips on yours. Knowing what you want, Daemon immediately leans down to give you what you need. His warm lips take yours in a confident, almost aggressive touch, that makes your chest glow with a familiar warmth. Pulling yet a louder moan from you as one of his hand grab at your breasts over your dress. Leaning up further, your tongue meets his in a dance for dominance.

Right in that moment you feel a gust of air hit your chest. Daemon had pulled down and almost ripped the front of your dress. His hands now squeezing and lightly slapping your tits, before parting from the kiss and pushing you down with the same hand to the back once more. The pace with which he thrusts into you becomes faster and sloppier. You know he is close and you are too. Sneaking one of your hands down to rub tight circles into your pearl, you make sure to bring yourself there the rest of the way. The edge of your climax rapidly comes closer under his and your own ministrations. Flicking at your sensitive bundle of nerves once, twice, three more times, your velvety walls start to flutter around Daemon's cock.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Whole body shaking from the pleasurable contractions, loud and uncontrollable moans forcing their way out of your lungs, you pull your husband over the cliff with you.

His hips stutter in their fast thrusts, the swiftness of their rolling motion becoming rougher until he buried himself as deep inside of you as he possibly can. The tip of his length is kissing your cervix as he spills his hot seed directly into your womb with one last groan of your name. It takes a while to recover from that intense encounter.

After you have finally calmed your breaths and fixed your clothing, you give your husband the most admiring look he has ever seen on any person.

"Do you believe anyone suspected anything? Aside from the hand?" You ask as you wrap your arms around Daemon's middle and look up at him. Waiting for another one of his kisses.

He gives in almost instantly. Pressing his lips to yours. This kiss is much more languid and loving compared to the last one, which was pure lust and passion.

"I am sure they did. Yet again a dragon does not concern himself with the opinions of sheep." He murmurs against your slightly swollen lips. Laying an arm around you, to lead you out of the room.

#prince daemon #prince daemon targaryen #daemon #daemon targaryen #the rogue prince #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon x reader #prince daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x you #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd x reader #hotd x you #house of the dragon x reader

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Dear author, if you are taking requests can I please get you an extremely rough and wild nsfw with jealous possessive Daemon x fem reader, where he makes her ride it into oblivion (add whatever kink you see fit) please?

Here you go, my friend. I hope this pleases you.

Warnings: Mention of injury, jealous and possessive behaviour, choking, spitting, smut. Word count: ~1100

Daemon’s mood is foul. His temper flares the moment he sees her place her favour onto the lance of that Lannister cunt. While their coupling isn’t public knowledge, she should know better than to entertain the attention of other men, lesser men.

The urge to jump the tilt and storm his way into the ladies court in order to seize her and remind her of who she belongs to is almost overwhelming. He knows he cannot though, so instead sets his sights keenly on his opponent as he sits atop his horse at the opposite end of the tiltyard. The red and gold of the Lannister caparison serves only to further his irritation. The sight of her wreath of flowers dangling from the base of the other man’s lance spurs him into action as he urges his horse to charge forward.

He notices the Lannister swing his lance slightly off target as he canters to meet him, an indication that he is experiencing difficulties and does not want to be hit. Daemon ignores this, striking him square in the breast plate with the tip of his weapon and causing him to fall from his horse with a sickening thud.

The horse master rushes towards the counter tilt. “He requested a mercy pass, Your Highness!”

Daemon lifts his helmet, watching with a smirk as the ground crew rally to help the Lannister Lord to his feet. “Did he now? How careless of me.”

He is badly winded and it is determined that his arret and grapper were not properly attached. The resulting blow from Daemon has likely broken his ribs and he will be unable to continue with the tourney.

Daemon dismounts from his horse with smug satisfaction and strides away from the tiltyard, but not before shooting her a pointed glare over his shoulder. The flicker of fearful recognition that crosses her face is all he needs to know she understands exactly what’s required of her. Don't keep me waiting.

He is stripped of his garniture and reclining in his quarters in his undershirt and breeches when he hears the timid knock at his chamber door.

“Come in.” He instructs flatly.

She enters, head bowed, a look of shy apprehension crosses her features. He feels a swell of pride at her obedience, she’d come just as soon as she could, just like he wanted. Such a shame he’s going to have to punish her for her brazen display at the tourney.

She stands before him, her hands clasped nervously in front of her, waiting for him to speak. He lets her linger in silence for a few moments, enjoying watching her squirm with discomfort. When she finally dares to look up and meet his eye he speaks.

“Have you grown tired of our arrangement?” He asks coldly.

“N-no!” She stammers, stepping forward, her eyes pleading.

He holds up a hand to stop her and she freezes in place, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles to articulate what it is that she wants to say.

“Have you forgotten who it is you belong to?” His gaze is piercing as he glares at her from where he is seated.

“Of course I haven’t.” Her voice is meek and apologetic.

“Then tell me, little one, why the fuck you thought it was acceptable to give your favour to that Lannister cunt?!” His voice raises in anger as he interrogates her, his grip on the arms of the chair causing his knuckles to turn white.

Her lip trembles and for a moment he is sure she will cry, until her jaw sets in bratty defiance. “I couldn’t very well say no, could I?!” She snaps back, face hot with her own fury. “What would you have me do instead? You insist upon keeping me a secret!”

Incensed with rage he reaches forward, grabbing her forcefully by the wrist and pulling her into his lap. “Don’t you ever talk back to me, fucking brat!”

She squeals as he manhandles her to straddle him, forcing her skirts above her hips and tearing away the gusset of her smallclothes, before unlacing his breeches.

“You need a reminder of who it is you answer to.” He threatens.

His hand moves between her legs and she whimpers, bucking against him. He hums appreciatively at how slick with arousal she is already. Wanton slut.

He pulls his hand away, spitting into his palm and then spreading it through her folds and over his cock. Lining himself up with her entrance, he thrusts upwards, pulling her harshly downward with a steadying hand on her hip.

The stretch feels impossibly tight around him and he groans at the sudden warmth and wetness, delighting in the way she gasps and clutches desperately at his shoulders.

“Not so eager to answer back now you’re stuffed full of my cock, are you?” He snarls, his grip on her hip tightens, using it to aid his movements up into her. His other hand moves to wrap around her throat, squeezing at the sides. “Look at me.”

Her eyes are wide, her face reddening from the restricted blood flow as she whimpers at the brutal pace he has set.

“You are mine, do you understand? Mine.” His fingertips press deeper into the flesh of her neck.

She does her best to nod, clenching around him as he continues to drive up into her over and over.

“Say it.” He hisses, brow furrowing with exertion, stones aching at the way she convulses with each movement.

“I-I am yours.” She stutters breathlessly.

“And could that Lannister twat fuck you like this?” He punctuates his question by tugging her harder and faster against him.

“Just you, only you…” The words tumble from her lips like a chant as her eyes grow glassy.

“Don’t look away.” Daemon orders in a husky whisper.

The only sounds in the room are their combined pants and the slap of flesh on flesh, until finally the heat of his climax licks along his spine and through his balls, he pulls her flush against him as he empties himself inside of her.

She collapses against him and he holds her to his chest as he recovers, stroking his hands softly up and down her back.

“You know,” He says, after a few minutes pass by in silence, “We needn’t keep this a secret forever. I could make you my wife.”

He feels her smile against the scarred flesh of his neck. “Are you saying you love me, Daemon Targaryen?”

He chuckles, delivering a playful swat to her backside. “Don’t push your luck.”

#daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #prince daemon targaryen #the rogue prince #daemon #daemon stannies #pro daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen fan fiction #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fan fic #hotd #hotd smut #hotd fan fiction #hotd fan fic #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic

[criminalamnesia]

I really like your Don't Be A Stranger story........ So I was hoping if you could do something similar with Daemon x Targaryen reader.

If that's ok with you.

And please do a Harwin POV.

I Want You

warnings: targaryen!f!reader, daemon is probably ooc sorry, chronically ill reader, reader is rhaenyra’s sister, not proofread, no use of Y/N

summary: Daemon is the only one who treats you normally.

author’s note: sooo first time writing for daemon! I hope it’s ok, he’s probably ooc so I’m sorry about that. but I hope you enjoy!

Ever since you were a child, you had been told that Targaryens were closer to Gods than to men. You did not believe that.

You didn’t feel like a God. You felt frail and small and weak. Too fragile to leave bed most days. Illness had taken you as a babe and stayed with you ever since. It was an old, unwelcome friend. One that you couldn’t quite shake, no matter how hard you tried.

Everyone crept on eggshells around you. Afraid to break you, to hurt you. You wanted to scream. To grab them and shake them. To make them understand that you hated being treated this way.

But they all seemed to know better than you. The Maesters checked on you daily and reported back to the King. Your sister, Rhaenyra, came by with small trinkets and stories of her days about the Keep. Your father, the King, would visit when he could and place a gentle kiss to your forehead before he left.

You enjoyed their company, no matter how frustrated they left you. But you especially enjoyed Daemon’s company.

He didn’t visit often, as he tended to be quite busy with the Gold Cloaks or the brothels or being exiled. It was hard to keep track of his doings, and although Rhaenyra updated you time to time, the best information came directly from the source.

Daemon would show up unannounced. Sometimes you wondered if he snuck into the Keep just to see you. He would always bring a gift, something from his travels or just something that made him think of you.

It wasn’t the gifts that made you love his appearances, however. It was the fact that he treated you normally. He didn’t tiptoe around you. He didn’t try to console you about your health or pray that you would get better. He didn’t lie.

He was the only one who treated you just like anybody else. He would grab your arms and pull you up. He would walk around with you, through the halls of the Keep. He had even snuck you into King’s Landing once.

So, Daemon was your favorite. What you didn’t know was that you were his favorite, too. He would keep tabs on you through your servants. He would ask Rhaenyra about you. He would meticulously pick out the gifts he brought you. He would worry that you wouldn’t be happy to see him.

That’s how he felt today as he climbed the steps towards the royal apartments, making his way to your chambers. Anxious. Anxious that you would send him away after news of his latest scandal hit your ears.

He clutched the gift he had chosen for you gently in one hand. He was sure you would adore it.

“Prince Daemon,” a guard nodded to him as he approached your door. “The Princess isn’t feeling well today. She’s to take no guests.”

“Nonsense,” Daemon moved to brush past the guards, but they shifted to block the door. Daemon scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the men.

“Move aside, or I will cut your tongues from your mouths.” Daemon spoke, his tone had an edge to it. The guards did not budge.

Daemon’s free hand fell to the pommel of his sword, gripping it and preparing to make his threat a promise. Before he could, the door to your chambers crept open a few inches, leaving a big enough gap for your head to pop through.

“Let him in, please,” your voice was soft, and the guards turned in surprise at your presence.

“Princess, the King said–” one of them began, but you shook your head.

“I do not care what the King said. I am your Princess, and I am telling you to let my uncle in.”

The men looked at each other for a moment in silent contemplation before they acquiesced, clearing the way for Daemon. The Rogue Prince strode forward as you opened the door for him, stepping aside so he could enter.

You closed the door behind him, and he turned to look at you. His expression softened at your appearance. You seemed paler than usual, dark circles under your eyes and your hands shaking slightly. He reached for you, his free hand gently grasping your forearm and helping you back to your bed.

“Where were you this time, uncle? Exiled again?” You teased as he helped you lay down, earning a scoff from him.

“Have you no faith in me, Princess?”

You laughed, watching as he took a seat on the bed by your legs. You shuffled to sit up against the pillows, your eyes taking him in. His hair had grown since the last time you saw him.

“If you must know, I was in Pentos.”

You waited for him to explain why, but he didn’t. You didn’t pry. That was the thing about Daemon: if he wanted you to know something, he would tell you. He was straightforward and blunt. So, it was no use trying to pull it from him.

“Is it beautiful there?” You asked, clasping your hands together in your lap.

“You would think anything other than these four walls as beautiful,” he said, to which you rolled your eyes.

Before you could speak again, he held out his gift to you. It was wrapped in a dark cloth, and you gingerly took it from his palm, placing it in your lap before pulling the cloth away.

You gasped, raising the figure to your eyes to examine it closely. It was a dragon with an unusually long neck sculpted from what looked like rubies. It glistened in the light from your window, and you grinned as you turned it this way and that.

“It’s Caraxes,” Daemon told you, his eyes trained on your face. “I had some men in Pentos make it. Costed a small fortune,” he commented as you traced a finger along the dragon’s neck. “But it was worth it.”

“Thank you, Daemon. I love it,” you were smiling so wide your cheeks hurt. Daemon nodded, masking his gratefulness that you had enjoyed the gift behind a small smile.

“Of course. Perhaps one day you’ll be able to see him in person,” he told you. Oh, how you wished for that.

Being bedridden for most of your life had kept you from seeing what made your family so great. You had never been too close to any of the dragons your family owned. You’d seen a few of them, of course– from a distance.

But you longed to be up close, to run a hand over one’s scales and ride into the sky. You longed to feel the freedom that came with flying. The power that came with having a dragon.

The egg that had been placed in your crib when you were born had never hatched. Perhaps it had been a sign of your impending illness. Maybe it was for the best. If the egg had hatched, you wouldn’t have gotten to bond with the dragon anyway. That would have been much harder to cope with.

“I would love that, uncle.” Your voice was soft as you placed the sculpted Caraxes on your beside table. “Maybe I could even ride him?” You phrased the sentence as a question, looking at Daemon hopefully.

He nodded. “I would love to have you join me one day,” he said, beginning to stand. “But not today. I must go see your father, and then I’m due to leave.”

“So soon?” You asked, but you knew the answer. Daemon never stayed long.

He nodded once more, looking down at you with a smile. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, Princess. But when I return, I’ll get you that dragon ride.”

—

He did not return for many months, but you had never forgotten his promise. You held hope as every new day began that he would return and take you to the dragon pit– but he didn’t come. You stopped hoping after a while, but you didn’t forget that promise.

One night while you were sleeping, a knock on your door awoke you. Startled, you sat up in bed before reaching for a candle. The barely burning flame did little to guide you as you shuffled to the door, pulling it open wide enough to see who it was.

Daemon stood on the other side with a mischievous grin. You pushed the door open wider to reveal the forms of your guards slumped against the wall, knocked out cold.

“They’ll wake up,” he told you, and you rolled your eyes.

“What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” You voice was a whisper, afraid that someone passing by might overhear. It may have been the middle of the night, but the Keep never truly slept.

“I came to fetch you for that dragon ride I promised. Unless, of course, you don’t wish to?”

“Of course I wish to,” you huffed, turning to walk back into your chambers. He followed behind you, shutting the door quietly. “Just not in my nightgown.”

“Perfect riding attire,” he jested, and you scoffed as you moved to set the candle back on a table.

“If you’ll wait outside, I’ll be done dressing in a moment.” You told him, but he made no move to leave. He stood by the closed door, eyes trained on yours.

“Don’t you need help?” His voice held a hint of amusement. You brushed it off.

“I am quite capable of dressing myself, thank you.”

“Then what are all those servants for?” He questioned, moving to stand in front of you. You stood frozen, looking up at him in confusion. What was he doing?

“Are you feeling well enough to ride tonight?” His voice was softer now, heartfelt as he reached a hand up to brush strands of silver hair behind your ear.

“Would it matter?” You asked foolishly. Of course it would.

“Yes,” he said, his hand falling to cup your cheek. “Your death at my hands would certainly have me exiled for the rest of my life.”

You snorted, pulling your head away from his touch. “Yes, that would certainly be awful, wouldn’t it?”

You turned away from him, making your way to your wardrobe to grab a change of clothes. You could feel his gaze on your back.

“Daemon,” you said. “If you’re not going to leave the room, at least turn around.”

“As my Princess commands,” he said. You glanced over your shoulder to look at him, and sure enough, he had turned to face the door. You exhaled a breath you hadn’t known you were holding before pulling at your nightgown.

Daemon itched to turn around, but he didn’t. He would never, not unless you asked him to.

After a moment, you cleared your throat. He turned to face you, finding you fully clothed. “Will you help me?” You asked, your voice small as you turned your back to him to show him the laces you had failed to tie.

He nodded, moving to stand behind you. You reached a hand back to gather your hair to one side. Deft fingers made quick work of the laces, tying them into neat little knots. Once he was finished, his hands fell to your waist, slowly turning you in his grasp.

You looked up at him, your faces dangerously close. His eyes met yours, and you wondered if he was going to kiss you.

Instead, he removed his hands from your body and stepped back. “We don’t have all night,” he said, seemingly more to himself than to you. “Let’s go.”

—

He had bundled you up in a dark cloak before the two of you approached the dragon pit. You made sure to pull the cloth over the majority of your face to hide your features. Even if the dragon keepers hadn’t seen you in years, it would be hard not to recognize a Princess of the Realm.

Daemon kept you close, an arm slung over your shoulders as he guided you to the pit’s entrance. Caraxes sat outside of it, perking up at his rider’s approach.

Your eyes widened at his sheer size. You almost stopped in your tracks, but Daemon kept you moving.

“You’ll have time to gawk when we’ve left,” he whispered into your ear, causing you to nod.

“Prince Daemon.”

The two of you froze as a dragon keeper rounded Caraxes. The man looked at the pair of you, his eyes narrowed in distrust.

“Who is this?” The man asked, pointing a finger towards you.

Daemon pulled you closer into his side protectively before clearing his throat. “No one special. A whore who showed me a good time. I figured I’d show her one in return.”

“A whore, hm?” The keeper hummed disbelievingly, taking a step towards you. You pulled at the cloak, wrapping it tighter around your face.

“Well, it’s been a while since you’ve liked one enough to bring her to Caraxes.” The man commented, causing Daemon to give a forced chuckle.

“Yes, well, this one deserved it. Feisty thing,” he grinned, his hand around your shoulders dropping to grab at your waist. Your eyes widened slightly before you composed yourself, attempting to play along.

“Very well. Have a good ride, my Prince.” The keeper nodded to the pair of you before he walked away. When he had disappeared from sight, you let out a sigh of relief.

Daemon just chuckled as he pulled you to Caraxes. The dragon lowered his body towards the ground to allow you up.

“A whore, hm?” You questioned, looking at him amusedly.

“It’s happened once or twice,” he grinned at you. You rolled your eyes.

Daemon mounted first before reaching down to help you up. Your bones creaked in protest, but you ignored the feeling in favor of savoring this moment. This may very well be the last time you would ever get this close to a dragon.

“Ready?” Daemon asked as he moved to sit behind you. His hands squeezed your waist before moving to grip the reins. You blushed, thankful he couldn’t fully see your face.

“As I’ll ever be,” you breathed.

Without another word, Caraxes was lifting off into the air, large wings beating to gain altitude. You gripped the front of the saddle, suddenly terrified you would fall. Daemon chuckled behind you as you tensed.

“Relax. You won’t fall,” his lips brushed your ear as he spoke. “I won’t let you.”

You nodded, assuring yourself that he wouldn’t. Daemon would never willingly let you fall. You knew that to be true.

Caraxes rose into the night sky, parting clouds and bringing you closer to the bright moon. You stared in awe as King’s Landing grew smaller and smaller under you.

“Everything you’ve dreamed of, Princess?” Daemon asked, one hand releasing the reins to rest on your waist.

“And more,” you exhaled. You felt as if you’d never experience something this great ever again. If you died now, you would die happy.

“One day, you’ll have a dragon,” Daemon was speaking into your ear to be heard over the roaring wind as Caraxes flew. “And we’ll be able to fly together, side by side. Wherever you want. Pentos, Naath, Dorne, Highgarden. I’ll take you wherever.”

Your stomach fluttered at his words, at the promise behind them. You doubted it would ever happen, but it was nice to dream. Nice to have hope.

“I don’t think my father would like that very much. His fragile daughter frolicking around with the Rogue Prince.” You spoke over your shoulder, catching a glance of Daemon’s expression.

He was watching you intently, eyes dark as he met your gaze.

“Fuck what my brother wants,” Daemon told you. “What do you want?”

“That,” you breathed, leaning back into him. “I want everything you said.”

“Then you shall have it.” Daemon leaned forward, his lips ghosting against your neck. You shivered at his touch.

“You shall have anything and everything you want.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you breathed, attempting to call his bluff.

“I never do, Princess,” he replied.

He fell silent, and you took the chance to focus on your surroundings. You reached a shaking hand forward, moving it toward’s Caraxes’ scales. The dragon’s high-pitched whistle pierced the air as your hand smoothed along the red scales.

“He likes you,” Daemon said. You gave a shaky laugh in relief.

“How do you know?” You questioned.

Dameon chuckled. “He hasn’t thrown you off.”

“I guess that is a good sign,” you smiled, turning to look at Daemon. His face held an expression you couldn’t place.

The Prince cleared his throat, gripping the dragon’s reigns tighter to steer Caraxes back towards the Keep. Your brows furrowed in confusion. You hadn’t been gone long– had you said or done something to upset Daemon?

Moments later, Caraxes was landing next to the dragon pit. The dragon gave a satisfied whistle as Daemon slid from the saddle, holding his arms out to you in assistance. You took it, allowing him to set you gently on the ground.

“Did you have fun?” He asked, watching you with affection as you ran a hand along Caraxes’ long neck.

“Much,” you replied, a hint of awe in your voice as the dragon turned its head to face you. You slowly reached a hand towards Caraxes’ snout, unsure if the dragon liked you that much.

The creature nudged your hand and you sighed in relief, petting his snout with a wide grin.

“I told you he liked you,” Daemon spoke as he moved to stand beside you.

You didn’t reply, continuing to stroke Caraxes’ scales. The dragon snorted before deciding he had had enough, turning his head away from you. You dropped your hand back to your side before turning to Daemon.

“Thank you, uncle.”

Daemon gave a small nod but didn’t speak.

“I assume it’s time to take me back?” You questioned, unsure of Daemon’s intentions.

The Prince nodded, seemingly breaking himself from his thoughts. “Yes, of course. It’s quite late.”

You nodded, turning and beginning the journey back to the Keep. He walked beside you without a word. The silence between the two of you was loaded with tension, and you couldn’t quite figure out why.

When Daemon had finally snuck you back into your quarters (the guards were still knocked out), you expected him to leave right away. He didn’t.

He stood at the door, eyes watching you as you moved towards your bed.

“Everything alright?” You asked, confusion on your face. He was never this quiet.

“Are you alright?” He replied.

“I’m fine,” you said, but he shook his head and crossed the room to you. His hands cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him.

“Do you really believe that? You’ve been stuck here for your entire life. Tonight is the first night I’ve ever seen you truly look alive,” he told you.

“There is a reason, Daemon. I do not always like them, but–” you began, but he swiftly interrupted.

“A shit reason,” he huffed, causing your eyes to widen at his outburst. “You could come with me. We could make your dreams reality. Go wherever you want.”

“Where is this coming from?” Your voice was soft. Your hands reached up to cover his. “You’ve never acted like this towards me.”

“Come with me,” he ignored your words. “We can leave now.”

“Daemon,” you breathed, pulling your face from his grasp. “You do not want me, not truly. Today was a good day– all my days are not good days.”

“You’ll be taken care of,” he told you, but you shook your head.

You loved him, perhaps more than you should. He had treated you normally. He had gifted you things. He had taken your side.

But he was still Daemon. The Rogue Prince. He was spiteful and unpredictable. He had rarely seen you on your worst days. Would he stick around for that? Would he care for you?

You didn’t know. You wanted to think he would, but you were not so naive as to blindly hope. You shook your head again, dropping your hands to your sides.

“If you truly care for me, then you may have me. But I do not think you fully understand what you’re asking.”

He did not speak. His fists clenched at his sides. You thought he would try to convince you further, but he didn’t. Instead he turned and stalked towards the door, opening it and stepping out. It clunked shut behind him.

—

You did not see Daemon for a while after that night. You had assumed he was done with you. You had denied him, and his pride was wounded. You tried not to think about it too much, but all you had was time to think.

Then, one day a year later, there was knock at the door. A servant entered with a wrapped box. She handed it to you before leaving. You looked at it skeptically, but opened it anyways.

Inside was a deep green dragon egg. Your eyes widened as you touched the egg, breath catching in your throat. You spotted a scroll in the bottom of the box, grabbing it eagerly and all but tearing it open.

Princess,

My offer still stands.

Daemon

This time, you took him up on it.

#house of the dragon #game of thrones fic #game of thrones #hotd fic #hotd #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #targaryen!reader #targaryen reader #daemon targaryen fic #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys targaryen #the rogue prince #female reader

[sadlvrgrrl]

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

a potential daemon targaryen love story

full version

𝘸𝘤: 209

・❥・

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Daemon Targaryen, the rogue prince of Westeros was far from pure. He was ruthless, stubborn, arrogant, and most of all, powerful. His blood was equivalent to a dragon, forged from the fiery pits of the seven hells. He was the deliverer of chaos and destruction, and no one was able to tame his savage inferno.

All until one; her.

She was the epitome of ethereal, a beauty so delicate, so pure in a way that she was too perfect for this world— too perfect for him. She was an angel forged of the purest light with hair as bright as the moon, skin as white as snow, and her eyes—

her eyes held magic.

Full of light, full of innocence, full of stars.

Starry eyes that had him hypnotized.

Starry eyes that had him vow to do anything in his power to keep their light kindle endlessly. 

Starry eyes that made him stumble, but it was her smile that made him fall.

She was a blessing from the gods. A wish upon a shooting star. If he could, he would tear the whole world apart just to rebuild it brick by brick to a standard he deemed worthy of her existence. Worthy of her light— worthy of his light.

(𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅...?)

a/n: posting this because my aemond story is taking longer than expected ._. this is not my best work (because i dont have any) but i do love me some daemon, and surpriiiiiseee, this is another hotd x lotr crossover because i am obsess and unhinged. i do not know if i will be continuing this story (reason: this is a pretty old wip that i've been kind of avoiding for a while now and the writing is kinda yucky too) but we'll seeeeeee :)

update: guess who's posting the final version...(not me) jkjk, I will be in a few days haha, just gotta do some rewriting here and there and boom; signed, sealed, and delivered it's yours (to read ofc...pls dont steal my work, that is a big no no)

update: full version is posted!

#daemon targeryan #daemon #the rogue prince #daemon x oc #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon fanfic #daemon fic #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #hotd daemon #house targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd #hotd x oc #team black #team green #hotd fluff #lord of the rings #lotr #lord of the rings fanfic #lotr fanfic #hotd x lotr #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 These Mortal Treasures by ChilianXianzi

These Mortal Treasures

by ChilianXianzi

T, 9k, Wangxian

Summary: "Is that something that Wei Ying would like?" Lan Wangji asks softly, carefully, "To be kept?" There's that fleeting, lost look in Wei Ying's eyes once more, and Lan Wangji thinks it's unacceptable - That Wei Ying had not felt welcomed in his own home, so much so that he decided to wander the world away from it. So much so that he is afraid that he would be unwelcome as well elsewhere. Lan Wangji barely stops himself from hissing, from letting the steam of his icy breath escape in the close air between them. He only vaguely remembers the Jiangs, a young Cultivation Clan barely a century old, but his disdain towards them feels ancient now in the wake of all this. How foolish of them, to simply let go of someone so bright, someone so unfailingly kind and giving. How convenient, for Lan Wangji's own gain. Kay's comments: I adore this story. The excerpt that's in the summary already encapsulates perfectly what I adore so much about it, Lan Wangji's and Wei Wuxian's relationship in this one is *chef's kiss*. Dragon Lan Wangji watching mortal Wei Wuxian and making sure he feels safe and happy in his home and that he wants to become part of his hoard, being absolutely enraged at the thought that anyone hadn't treated Wei Wuxian as the treasure he is in the past and of course, egg!Yuan!! And eggnancy!! Love that for them and love Lan Wangji tearing the Jins a new one as well.

pov lan wangji, canon divergence, dragon lan wangji, rogue cultivator wei wuxian, wei wuxian leaves the yunmeng jiang sect, possessive lan wangji, domestic fluff, angst with a happy ending, cultivation sect politics, not jiang cheng friendly, mpreg, eggpreg, eggnancy, developing relationship, strangers to lovers

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

#April 2024 #Wangxian Fic Rec #The Untamed #Wangxian #MDZS #Kay's Rec #Kay's Favorite #teen #short fic <15k #ChilianXianzi #These Mortal Treasures #pov lan wangji #canon divergence #dragon lan wangji #rogue cultivator wei wuxian #wei wuxian leaves the yunmeng jiang sect #possessive lan wangji #domestic fluff #angst with a happy ending #cultivation sect politics #not jiang cheng friendly #mpreg #eggpreg #eggnancy #developing relationship #strangers to lovers

[bohemian-nights]

Arlī(Anew)-Chapter 6

Word Count: ~10,442

Rating: 18+

Warnings⚠️: Uncle/niece incest; minor smut; blood

Description: “I fear I will go mad if I stay here.” Naerys needed to be away from Dragonstone for a little while. Away from all that she herself had lost.

AN: This story takes place from episode 5 onward. I’ve changed things up a bit but I’ve kept the timeline intact.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

————————————🐉————————————

120 AC- Driftmark

Death is a strange thing. It’s as natural as living even more so, but one never thinks of it that way. Lurking around every corner. It is the final act of one’s life. An inescapable fate. Sometimes a grand finale. Other times a quiet whimper. It often visits in pairs. Prolonging the suffering of the loved ones left behind. Such was the case in 120 AC.

Death first visited the unlucky halls of Harrenhall. A fire swept through the cursed castle taking Ser Harwin Strong and his father Lord Lyonel Strong to their graves. Naerys had never cared much more either. Ser Harwin, though an admirable father to her cousin's children, and his bastards alike, was a poor husband.

There could be no question that Ser Harwin was undeserving of her cousin. He had a lady of house Velaryon for a wife, a young graceful Valyrian bride, and yet that was not enough for him. He instead spent too much of his time in the company of another. Fathering children with said other when his priorities should have lied closer to home.

Naerys did not know the elder Strong well. Lord Strong was a blank sheet of parchment as far as the princess could tell. He did not have the presence and guile of the previous hand, now reinstalled hand, Ser Otto Hightower. The Strong’s were a noble house yet they lacked the distinction of other riverlands houses like the Blackwood’s or the Bracken’s. They had in truth only held their seat for a generation. The Strongs had thus far failed to make their mark upon Harrenhal and Westeros at large.

Then there was Laena. Sweet Laena. A beautiful, vivacious Velaryon woman. A trueborn daughter of Lord Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. The blood of the dragon ran thick through her veins as much as the blood of the seas. A noble lady who might have been queen one day had it not been for their great grandsires stubbornness.

While Naerys had not cared much for the Strongs she did mourn her cousin's death. Laena was the closest thing to a sister that the princess had. She had been the one that Naerys went to when she could not or did not dare to ask her aunt for womanly advice. She had taught her cousin how to claim Silverwing as she had claimed Vhagar. Now the brown silver-haired woman was gone along with a son who never drew breath, but the Stranger was far from finished with adding to his collection.

Death was to visit twice more, but it was Aenys birth and immediate departure that had been the final blow to Naerys. Aenys funeral was a quiet affair. Ser Vaemond had been made to leave Dragonstone that night. Daemon blamed the Valyrian knight for his son's death. Naerys was not due for another week. If she had not been made to go into early labor, if she had not heard the distressing news perhaps their son might have lived.

The princess had to be carried down to the beach by her husband where their son’s cloth-wrapped body had been placed. She was the one who gave the command to light the pyre. She insisted upon it. Her small cry of “dracarys” was carried by the wind into Silverwings ears. Naerys had gone mute for nearly a week after.

By the fourth day of her silence, she refused to eat. Pushing trays of food away whenever one of her maids arrived. They tried tempting her with her favorite treats, but Naerys simply pulled herself further under her covers. This went on for two more days before a weary Daemon who had seated himself on their bed and curled himself around her. “Daenys iksos asking syt zȳhon muñnykeā byka mēre.” Daenys is asking for her mother little one.

Their daughter had been barred from entering their chamber. Naerys could not face the girl. She had left her husband to deal with her alone. Why should she burden the girl when she had failed as a mother? Failed to deliver a healthy son into the world. Who knew what further damage she might cause?

But her daughter cared not. She wanted her mother. Naerys was Daenys mother before she had been Aenys and she would be there long after the babe had gone. She was a living breathing girl. Did she not matter? All she asked for was her mother's company.

It was not fair of Naerys to deprive her living child of her mother. Daenys was used to the loss of her mother's babes, but she would not grow used to her mother's absence. Naerys had to return to the land of the living. The girl was sent for, along with some broth and bread with honey to break her fast.

Daenys sat with her mother as she ate. Climbing into her parent's bed and fixing herself to Naerys side as she prattled on about a toy Helana had sent as well as the bow and arrow set her father had gifted her. The young princess had found the latter gift to be much more agreeable than her long-since discarded training sword.

It was advised by Maester Orlys that attending Laena’s funeral on Driftmark might put a strain on Naerys' fragile condition. Daemon had agreed with the kindly older man. The stress of the journey alone could disrupt her slow recovery. Naerys was a long way from being whole. Her hunger strike had not helped matters. She was just now regaining her strength. Only being able to stand for short periods of time before exhausting herself and having to sit back down.

It would in truth take months before the princess was back to her old self. Naerys needed proper rest. Rest that could be found within Dragonstone’s walls. There was no need to stress herself, but Naerys remained firm on wanting to leave for Driftmark much to her uncle's dismay.

“Ziry istan issa dubāzma kepus.” She was my cousin uncle. It was late in the evening as Naerys and Daenys had curled up in Daemon's lap, The family was seated by the chamber’s fire. The little girl was dozing off when her mother softly spoke the words to her father.

Laena would do the same for her. Nothing would have stopped her from seeing off Naerys. Why should she not pay her the same? Her son was gone. There was nothing left to do, but mourn his loss. That could be done on Driftmark as well as Dragonstone. She could stand idly by with all that had happened. Naerys owed her cousin her dues.

“Nyke zūgagon nyke jāhor jikagon vēdros lo nyke umbagon rȳbagon.” I fear I will go mad if I stay here. Naerys needed to be away from Dragonstone for a little while. Away from all that she herself had lost. Daemon folded to his wife’s request at her declaration. Maester Orlys was to journey with them and they were to leave if Naerys became overwhelmed, but they would go to Driftmark for Laena’s funeral.

Laena’s funeral was held a fortnight after her death. Enough time for family and friends to journey to Driftmark from Dragonstone and Kings Landing. Driftmark had always been a place of levity and sanctuary for Naerys. Her mother had fled to the stony shores of her childhood when she was just shy of her second name day. Her father had been dead not even a week before her mother fled for her brother’s keep.

“There are spies everywhere brother.” That is what her uncle had told Naerys when she had asked him why she had left with such urgency. Even Ser Vaemond did not entirely believe his little sister. He thought that the late Shaera Velaryon was overly paranoid. She had always been so, but it had worsened with age. Seeing danger when there had been none. “Naerys is not safe here.”

Her mother had gone to Jahaerys with her worries, but the old king dismissed her with a flick of his frail wrist. “She is no longer the heir. There is nothing to fear my lady. Naerys is in no danger from those at my court. There is little that they can accomplish by harming a babe girl.” He was old and cared little for the politics of the realm anymore aside from who would rule over the seven kingdoms after him. Now that line of succession was clear he did not see the threat to his great-granddaughter.

In her desperation, Shaera had gone to her late husband's half-brothers. Though they had never been close to their elder brother, Naerys was their blood. Surely they would care for their little niece's safety? Viserys merely echoed his grandsire's words, but it was Daemon to her surprise who did not make light of her fears. He too believed that his grandfather’s court was full of traitors and simpering sycophants.

The Velaryon lady had thought she had found a champion for her daughter until the Targaryen prince added, “It is a pity that my grandmother saw fit to marry me to my bronze bitch. If she had waited some years more I might have had your daughter to call my little bride. Naerys is such a sweet little thing. I would have enjoyed plucking her flower.”

Daemon claimed it was a joke when he recollected the story to his wife a year after their own daughter's birth, but he professed it while his cock was buried inside his niece's warmth. Hovering over her as he thrust in and out of her sopping heat with a dark look Naerys had grown to adore.

The rogue prince reached a hand down between their love-soaked bodies. Naerys grip tightened as her husband made slow circles around her clit to bring his niece to her peak. “I suppose I have my baby bride now.” She had decided that there had been some merit in her mother’s apprehension.

Naerys' first memories were at her uncle's castle, but the white stone walls of her youth were not the ones she remembered when they had arrived at High Tide. The light and splendor had all but vanished. The castle was as quiet as the grave itself though it was bursting at the seams from the number of guests that had invaded its hall. One of her cousins and his lady wife were the ones to greet them. Making apologies for their lord uncle and his princess wife’s absence.

Ser Laenor had locked himself within his chambers. Not even Rhaenyra nor their sons were allowed in. His parents were trying to coax the man out, but with little success. The heads of house Velaryon and their heir were not seen until the next day at their daughter's funeral.

Ser Vaemond was given the honor of delivering Laena’s eulogy. Naerys did not know why her aunt and uncle chose him for this task. Any one of her cousins or uncles would have done. Anyone who would not make the loss of their daughter about himself. Never one to disappoint, the Velaryon knight did not miss an opportunity to take center stage.

Naerys uncle wasted no time in praising the purity of Laena’s Velaryon blood. The dark man did not take his violet eyes off of Rhaenyra and her black-haired sons as he said so. The Targaryen woman shifted uncomfortably, pulling her boys closer to her. Laenor, her husband, stood apart from his wife and “sons.” Naerys would have pitied her had she not earlier looked at her empty belly with a smirk on the way down to the ragged shoreline.

Daemon let out a laugh at Ser Vaemond’s poorly disguised chastisements of the crown princess. The Rogue Prince paid no mind to the looks of displeasure that his inappropriate reaction received. Instead, he craned his neck down to whisper in his wife’s ear. “Perhaps with her strong knight gone she might give the realm proper heirs.”

Naerys could not join her husband in his satisfaction for it was what worried her the most. Rhaenyra’s lilac gaze locked onto their uncle the moment she had seen him. She had only taken her eyes off their uncle when the Velaryon knight began his derision of her sons. You promised. Her cousin's pleas from all those moons ago rattled around in her head. It had never left her. They were both in need of heirs now. Did Rhaenyra intend on collecting the debt she felt she was owed?

Thankfully Daemon’s smirk dropped when he noticed his niece-wife’s growing distress. Her husband's eyes softened as he placed a kiss on her head. “Hae ao emagon teptan issa ñuhon.” As you have given me mine. Daemon pointed his gaze down to the small girl between them who held her father’s hand. Daenys seemed to be more interested in her cousins who stood by their Hightower mother than her great uncle’s speech.

Ser Vaemond was the first to make his way over to where Naerys and her family stood once Laena’s coffin was lowered into the sea. He brought his son, Daeron, and his eldest grandson with him. Daemon’s son was a plump boy of nine who had inherited his mother’s grace, a doltish woman from a minor riverlands house.

The Velaryon knight took care to introduce Daenys to her Velaryon cousin. The boy let out a clumsy bow. Referring to their daughter as cousin Daenys with a bashful stutter. It was an amusing sight to see to all but his grandfather. Ser Vaemond wasted no time in correcting his grandson's lack of manners. “She is a princess and is to be Lady of Dragonstone as well.”

Naerys bristled at her uncle’s words. Perhaps Ser Vaemond had not thought anything of it. It was the truth of the matter, but he could not possibly think that his niece nor his good nephew were over the death of their child.

Naerys would excuse the blunder. It was a simple enough mistake, but her husband would not take so kindly to Vaemond’s prideful arrogance which led to his forgetfulness. They were all grieving and the first thing that he thought of was what he could gain from it.

“I do wonder if your grandson is as insipid as you Ser Vaemond?” It was spoken with a sneer as Daemon stared down the Velaryon knight. Vaemond’s self-assured smile had finally fallen. His son looked as if someone had struck him across the face before he began to make apologies for his father's gaffe. Daeron regained his composure enough to usher his son and fuming father away from the rogue prince's ire.

Once they were gone from their sight Daenys began to tug on her sleeve fathers. “Will I have to marry him?” A little frown of distaste graced her honey face. The last remnants of tension in the air dissipated as her parents laughed at her little worries. Their daughter was an observant girl. She knew of her duties, but she was still a girl. She had nothing to fear. Daemon would never marry her off to just any boy. Her father affectionately petted the top of her silver curls, reassuring her that she would not have to marry the halfwit.

Naerys bit her tongue. The boy was young, but he came from good stock. His father was dull true enough, but he was a good man. His grandsire Ser Vaemond, though proud, was a good husband and father to his lot. She would have to marry. Why not marry Daenys into her grandmother's house? They were of ancient and pure Valyrian blood after all their daughter could do worse.

“He’d bore her in a week. He’s even more useless than his grandfather.” Naerys' husband did not miss the look his wife had tried to conceal. They both knew that proposals had been made for Daenys hand. Dragonstone and the dragons that it posed were a prized offer. As was the little princess in her own right, for she was every inch a Targaryen beauty in the making. However, decisions on their daughter's future could wait for now.

From the corner of her eye, Naerys spotted the king looking their way. The man looked worse for wear, but he gave them a polite smile. Daemon had noticed too, but the man was avoiding his brother's eye line, but that would not do. “Your brother wants to talk to you.”

Daemon hesitated. He would not leave his niece's side. Not while she tired so easily, but Naerys simply smiled and reached up to place a kiss upon his pale cheek. “Go. I have your little shadow with me to guard me.” Daemon looked down at their daughter who gave her father a salute. Satisfied with her response and his wife’s insistence the man left telling Daenys to “Watch your mother, little dragon.”

It was not long before Daenys turned her violet eyes back toward where Alicent’s sons stood crowding around their sister. Her daughter was ever the dutiful princess, but she was still a child. She deserved a moment of respite. Kissing her daughter on the top of her head she sent her to her cousins. Naerys started to make her way over to comfort Rhaenys and her granddaughters, but she felt a hand reach out grasping her arm. Spinning her around she came to face Rhaenyra’s cool inspection.

“You are brave to come here Naerys.” If one did not know any better one would think that Rhaenyra was almost giddy. She did not look as though she were a woman in mourning. All traces of penitence from Ser Vaemond’s reproach were gone. “I confess, if I was in your position I would not be able to bear it.”

Rhaenyra turned her gaze toward where Daemon stood with her father. “Our poor uncle suffers so, as I am sure your daughter does as well.” Rhaenyra took her hand. “Do not worry aunt, all will be well soon enough.” Naerys never got the chance to reply as Rhaenyra left making her way over to Daemon. To give him comfort in his grief. Daemon looked relieved to see her.

It dawned on Naerys then. Rhaenyra could not be stopped. Not by her cousin at least. She had everything yet she wanted more. She had three healthy sons. A husband who though did not love her in the way that a man ought to love his wife cared for her and her children.

The crown princess had a lover who had been willing to risk everything for her consequences be damned. She would one day inherit the Iron Throne. It all meant nothing. Not when the one thing the one man Rhaenyra wanted remained out of reach. All that stopped her was their uncle's insistence that he had no need for another besides his wife.

What would happen if Daemon were to change his mind? He had always wanted Rhaenyra. It was who he had truly desired, but he settled for another Targaryen niece. He claimed otherwise, but Naerys knew. She knew.

Ser Laenor would hardly put up a fight. He had not minded when his wife had taken Ser Harwin for a lover. Their marriage was not a traditional one. No Rhaenyra and her bastards would be allowed to journey back to Dragonstone with them. Both needed heirs. Proper heirs. Daenys was a girl. She was not a proper heir by virtue of her sex. No amount of lessons her father could give her would change that. She had been born with the wrong parts.

What man would not want to see his son rule after him? What man would not want his own seed on the Iron Throne? Of course, Rhaenyra was still married, but that impediment could be resolved. An annulment perhaps?

It was not uncommon for a Targaryen to take on a second bride. Maegor The Cruel had six; his father before him had two. Who would stop them? The king was old and weak; he would not argue against the arrangement either as long as it did not happen in his presence and once the deed was done he would not go against the union. The faith would not dare go against the king's word. They would not risk another uprising.

Daemon would never cast Naerys aside true enough. Her uncle did care for her. He may not love her as he did Rhaenyra, but some part of him did love her. He would be a husband to her as he would be with Rhaenyra. He would visit both of their beds and Naerys would be made to watch with a smile on her face as the crown princess bared him son after son.

People would whisper and gossip of course. Around court, around Dragonstone, just as they had during the last set of her failures, but Naerys would have to get used to it. The princess would be made to endure Rhaenyra as Laena had. The offer of a son and true happiness would be too tempting to pass.

But Naerys was not Laena. She could not endure. She lacked her sweet patience and grace in the face of adversity. She would not be made a pariah at court, in her own home on Dragonstone. To be mocked and pitied as though she were some poor creature. She would not allow it. She would never be queen, but she was a dragon just the same as the rest. Dragons do not share. She had given her husband an heir. There was no need for the future queen in her uncle’s bed.

Naerys was still reeling from being bombarded by Rhaenyra when Ser Otto approached her. The hand of the king started out by making his apologies for Aenys loss. His pale blue eyes shone with solace. If Naerys did not know any better she would have thought it had been made in earnest. She did not want to think the worst of the man. His sympathy could be sincere. The man had not lost children, but he had lost a wife. By all accounts, he loved her as much as a man like himself could.

“Daenys is very fond of her cousin. As her cousins are fond of her.” The hand had turned his gaze toward where her daughter and his grandchildren were. Daenys held a spider in her little hands as she talked with her cousins. A fact that seemed to please the second eldest prince as he sported a small grin on his face. The little princess had gotten over her fear of Helaena’s “friends.” Or at least the girl was willing to bare them to be in the company of her cousins.

“She has her mother’s beauty. She would have made Aegon a good wife.” Naerys shuddered at the thought. The boy was not unkind to Daenys, but her mother had seen the way the prince treated those who he thought less of. He barely spared his own sister and soon-to-be bride common decency.

Naerys could not help but feel deep sadness for Helaena. The girl was a gentle soul. She did not deserve to be married to such a careless boy who had inherited the Targaryen’s gluttonous and none of their glory. If he ever managed to be crowned king it would be in name only. “She would do well at court.” Naerys snapped her head back to look at the presumptuous man.

She had been too hasty in her judgment of Ser Otto. A leopard did not change its spots so easily. The princess would not make that mistake again. She would take a page out of her husband’s book. She was far too tired to deal with niceties. “If you want something Ser, do speak plainly.” He was wasting both of their time otherwise.

“If you are ever in need of assistance, princess.” The man bent down so that they were more on eye level. “My door is always open as is the queen’s.” With a half smile, he picked up her brown hand to kiss the back of it. It was intended as a version of a fatherly kiss. The same kind Ser Vaemond and Lord Corlys bestowed upon her when she was a little girl when they asked her to dance during feasts. “Both you and the little princess are always welcomed at court.”

Ser Otto turned his focus toward the far end of the balcony. Waiting for Naerys to follow his eye line. Daemon and Rhaenyra had vanished from sight. Not one trace of them could be found and the sun was setting.

Of course, Daemon could have gone back to their chambers, and Rhaenyra could have gone off somewhere on her own, but he looked so happy. He had not looked so in weeks. The better part of a year even. Her husband had not looked so cheerful since before she had told him of her Aenys pregnancy and Rhaenyra glowed under their uncle's adornment.

“How exactly would you help me Ser?” Naerys pulled her hand out from the cold man’s grip. She did not wait for the Hightower knight to respond. She would not hear of treasonous talk. She would not be poisoned by it. Dark commands led to dark deeds and those deeds would come with a price. A price that would soak through and last a lifetime.

Even if her life was to take a turn she would not damn herself to the seven hells to avoid it. “If you will excuse me, it is past Daenys’ nap time.” She had enough of today’s procession of woe. Grabbing her daughter, who was reluctant to leave her cousins, but did not protest when she saw the worry on her mother's face. The two hand in hand made way for the solitude of High Tide’s halls.

Naerys was wide awake when Daemon arrived back to their chambers. He had not come alone. Daenys had been put to be long since as she sat by their chambers lit fire in her nightgown. She had been staring into the flames for hours now losing track of time. She would have gone to be herself but her mind was running in circles playing everything back to her that had occurred in the past weeks.

“We had an agreement uncle.” Rhaenyra’s shrill voice could be heard coming through from the hall. Naerys could just make out their shadows under the door in the low light. Corlys and Rhaenys had been kind enough to offer them chambers that were far enough from the rest of the castle's guests otherwise her cousin would have woken nearby inhabitants

“I never promised you anything Rhaenyra.” Daemon hissed at his niece. He probably expected both his daughter and wife to be asleep, but caution never hurt. He would not be so lucky tonight. Naerys would not let slink in and act as if his absence had not been noted.

“What agreement?” Naerys ripped the door open to face her husband and her cousin’s shocked faces. The princess held her head up high. Her eyes were bloodshot and there were tear tracks on her cheeks, but she would not cower. She would not bother hiding herself away like a frightened child. She was a woman grown now. A mother and a wife. Daemon’s wife. She wanted answers. She deserved them.

“Sweetling you should be in bed.” Daemon came to her abandoning Rhaenyra in the hall leaving the door to their chambers open. He made a move to reach out for her, but Naerys backed away from his touch. A look of hurt flashed in his violet eyes, but his wife was not swayed. He had been gone too long to greet her in such a way. To send her to bed as if she were their daughter who had stayed up past her bedtime.

“What agreement husband?” Naerys held firm as she looked up at her husband. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Rhaenyra rushing into their solar closet, closing the oak doors leading into the hall. Her cousin was a neat woman, but the only word that could best describe the princess at the moment was frazzled.

“Sweet cousin, Naerys, Daemon needs heirs.” Rhaenyra twisted her thin mouth in a false smile. She basked in her pride despite her disheveled appearance. Treating as if she were a skittish doe that might run off at any moment. As if she had any concern for her at all. If she did she would not be here.

“There is no point lying uncle. Not anymore.” Rhaenyra turned to their uncle, placing a hand on his arm. Naerys wanted to claw the smug look off her cousin's face, but she wrapped her arms around herself and planted her feet on the stone floor. “My baby cousin will understand.”

“I have an heir Rhaenyra.” It was said with gritted teeth as he shook off his niece’s hand. Daemon tried once more to come to his wife, but the girl backed away holding a hand up to stay him. He listened to her choosing to run a hand through his shoulder-length white hair in frustration instead. “I have no need for more. Unlike your father, I do not let my dreams cloud my judgment. My flesh and blood will inherit Dragonstone after me and her children after her.”

“What agreement?” He still had not answered her. Breathing was becoming harder with each minute that passed. Naerys felt her heart speed up. Yet everything was in slow motion. She could barely hear anything, but the blood rushed in her ears. Trying to push her dread down. She steadied herself with a breath. She wanted the words said out loud. She wanted a real answer. Not more half-truths.

“A son or two. That is all that I ask for dear sister.” How Rhaenyra maintained her conceit was a mystery to her cousin. She was a woman that had never been told no. That had never been made to bend to others' will. “It is what our kepus has promised. There need not be a marriage.” Rhaenyra’s hand flew to her belly. A victorious smile. As if to challenge her. “It is you who holds him back.” Rhaenyra could give him new blood.

“Did you sleep with her?” Naerys could not look at her husband as she asked about her greatest fear. When they first married she had always suspected that he took Rhaenyra to his bed, but that was then. That was in the past. The present is a different story. They have a life together now. It might be broken and torn into small pieces, but it was a life. “All those times she came to our home—tonight—”

“I haven't been in anyone's bed except yours you hellcat.” It was meant to be a tease. To bring much-needed levity into the room, but he had picked the wrong moment for his japes. His eyes softened when he realized his mistake when he saw his wife’s misty eyes. “Not since I first had you little one.”

Taking her face in his hands he tried to kiss her, but Naerys refused. Turning her cheek so that the kiss landed there rather than its intended target. Rhaenyra was still in the room leering at them and Daemon had not asked her to leave. A wall stood between them and he still would not break it down.

“Did you promise her something?” It was none of her business. Promises were broken every day, but she had to know. She wanted to know. Needed to know. Rhaenyra had been haunting the back of her mind for years. Her uncle's first plaything. Naerys was her replacement. A poor substitute who could not even give him sons. Only a lone little girl to show for. She wanted to be his everything to give him everything, but she had failed and her cousin was all too willing to take up her rightful place beside their uncle.

“You are being childish Naerys.” Her husband scoffed at her. A dark look came over him. Daemon was all too used to getting his way with his niece-wife. Naerys always gave in to him and when she did not he was the one who acted as if she had injured him.

Naerys slapped him then. It had not been hard enough to do any damage. Her husband had barely moved. He stood there and laughed. Lightness returned to his eyes. He actually laughed at her torment. The princess felt her face heating up. She had not expected the reaction. She wanted his fire not to be treated as a joke.

“You married a child!” Naerys felt her fury growing. She would not be humiliated. She had been more humiliated today than many wives were in a lifetime. Everyone knew of her shame. Daemon knew what everyone thought of his relationship with his oldest niece and yet did little to actually reassure his wife. She would not let him talk over her.

“You married me because I was young and naive and you did not think that I knew better. You married me because I would soothe your broken ego. You married me because I was the niece that you were allowed to have.” She had never been wanted and she resented him for toying with her.

“Do you want to know what he did? He begged me to live.” Naerys spun around to face her cousin. Letting her anger guide her as she crowded Rhaenyra. She was enjoying her agitation far too much, but the younger princess did not care if she played the part of the desperate wife. Daemon had his choice, but he had chosen her. She wanted her cousin to know that even if their uncle never told her so. She wanted to haunt Rhaenyra as she had haunted her.

“The maesters told him he had to choose and he begged me to live. He paid for my life with our son‘s.” She hated her husband in part for it, but what was done was done. The past was dead to them. She would not give up her future without a fight. “He can not live without me. I am his wife. I am the mother of his child. Whatever agreement you had is gone, niece.” Rhaenyra’s vanity had faded and been replaced by ire.

“Daemon-” The Rogue Prince held up a hand to Rhaenyra. Silencing the red-faced woman. He did not turn back to face her. Instead, he kept his violet eyes trained on his wife. Bringing her into him pressing his forehead to his wife’s. He brought his hands up to face drawing circles into her temple with the rough pads of his thumb.

“Rhaenyra tell my wife what you said when you prostrated yourself at my door all those moons ago.” He pulled away slightly to hover over her. Naerys wanted to turn her head away, but she could not. Her uncle looked as if he was some avenging old God of Valyria as he gave out a breathless chortle. He had hypnotized her.

“Ao sagon obsessed rūsīr aōha riñnykeā ābrazȳrys kepus. Nyke pendagon skorkydoso bōsa ao kostagon nykeōragon naejot fuck zȳhon gō ao mazverdagon ēdrugī hen zȳhon. Gaomagon ao remember bona Rhaenyra?” You're obsessed with your child bride uncle. I wonder how long you can stand to fuck her before you grow tired of her. Do you remember that Rhaenyra? Daemon did not receive an answer. He had not been truly looking for one. He continued on without a need for one.

“Gaomagon ao remember skoros nyke ivestretan ao? Ziry iksos nykeā pretty byka mirre. Nyke don’t pendagon nyke shall mirre tire hen zȳhon. Nyke’ve found se fountain hen youth rȳ lenton rȳ zȳhon thighs.” Do you remember what I told you? She is a pretty little thing. I don’t think I shall ever tire of her. I’ve found the fountain of youth at home between her thighs. Naerys clamped up briefly when she felt his hand travel between said thighs, but the trance never ceased. Her blood was stoked by its blaze.

Daemon never looked away from his niece-wife as he dipped a finger into her cunt. Gathering enough wetness to bring to her clit. Toying with the little button. His other hand reached up to tug down her gown with one swift motion. Revealing her dark full breasts to the chamber's dim light.

“Sweet little thing. So wet and pliant for me. My baby whore. To do with as I please. I’d share her with you. I offered you that, but you wouldn’t appreciate it wouldn’t you? And I’ve never been fond of sharing my toys.” Naerys was too trapped by her warring emotions clouded by lust to care. She gave into the hazy blanket of salacity her husband offered her.

The man did not pull away. “Issa pretty byka ābrazȳrys. Ziry iksos headstrong isse zȳhon own ñuhoso se jealous gīda though ziry emagon daor drīve naejot sagon. Ivestragī jikagon syt issa dōna riña.” My pretty little wife. She is headstrong in her own way and jealous even though she has no reason to be. Let go for me sweet girl. Daemon sped up his movements. His wife meant to put a stop to his ministrations then.

It was bad enough that he had touched her while in the presence of another. She would not have another see their most intimate moments, but her opposition died on her tongue. Naerys had to clutch onto the man in front of her as she felt herself topple into her peak. “Issa gūrotrir.” My prize.

“Out now.” Rhaenyra looked as if she was in a half-daze. Her pale face was riddled with unabashed disgust. She did not move to exit. “I mean it Rhaenyra.” Daemon’s stern voice tried to break her from her daze, but an urgent knocking sounded at their door. Naerys' husband removed his fingers from her overspent hole placing a light kiss on her temple. Helping to pull the straps up to her nightgown so that she was in a decent enough state of dress.

Rhaenyra had been closest to their chamber's entry, but she remained in a state of crisis. Daemon was the one to open the heavy oak doors. Barking down at the poor soul who was unlucky to be given the task of rousing the Rogue Prince and his wife.

A frightened boy of no more than twelve name days peered up at her husband. Her uncle’s servant stumbled over half his words. “Beg your pardon, your highnesses.” He turned to acknowledge Rhaenyra with a bow.

The boy did not blink at her presence in their chamber. Naerys did not want to think about what went on in her uncle’s halls for him not to do so, “The little princess and princes have been hurt.” Naerys felt her heart stop beating. All the blood left from her body to some indescribable place of dread.

She sensed her arm being grabbed by her husband. He ushered her down toward her uncle's Great Hall. His heavy strides did the work for them both. The princess made note that Daemon had somehow managed to grab his sword as well. Naerys was too in her head to care what he might do with it.

High Tide had descended into chaos. Servants scrambled past them rushing to the source of the mayhem. The shouting grew in volume with each step. Rhaenyra was the last one out of their chambers but she flew past them in search of her sons.

Relief flooded through the princess at the sight of her daughter. Daenys leaned on Helaena who was trying to calm down the wailing child. Upon seeing her parents the young princess ran to her father. The man wasted no time scooping up the girl. Naerys inspected her daughter as she sobbed into her husband’s chest. She sported a bump on her forehead and a small cut on her honey cheek, but she remained otherwise uninjured. She was unlikely to bare any scars from what had unfolded.

Daemon bounced the girl in his arms as he ordered Maester Orlys to be brought down from his chambers. The older man could sleep through a storm. He had more than likely not even heard the commotion going through the castle. The prince placed a kiss atop his daughter’s silver curls as he drew circles into her back. Daenys seemed to calm down once she was in her father's arms. Allowing her parents to comfort her. Daemon’s fury had abated with their daughter's change in mood until he noticed a certain bandaged boy bound to his mother's side who would not meet his uncle’s eyes.

Aemond stood at the heart of bedlam. From the impassioned appeals to the king exchanged between the queen and the crown princess, Naerys gathered that the boy had managed to claim her cousin's dragon. Daenys had snuck out with her cousin when he had taken Vhagar while her mother had been consumed with her dark thoughts.

Baela and Rhaena had seen Aemond riding upon their mother's dragon and altered their bastard half-brothers of it. The Strong girl's mother was not yet cold in her grave and the boy had dared to claim her mount. They had already lost their father and now they had to suffer the loss of their mother and all that she had held dear.

It was a “slight” that they did not let go unpunished judging by the state of their bruised and bloody small faces as well as Aemond’s left eye. Naerys understood their anger, but the fighting had gotten out of hand.

Daemon deposited their daughter into his niece-wife’s arms. Kissing both their heads before turning to face his nephew. His wife was reminded of the Valyrian sword in his possession when the prince unsheathed Dark Sister. Naerys knew it would be impossible to stop him though she did protest. Aemond was a boy. He was hardly vicious enough to attack his little cousin.

“Is this your handiwork boy?” The king made no move to stop his brother. His pallid complexion took over by exasperation at being made to preside over this spat. His younger brother had enough fire for the both of them. He need not make a show of things.

Aemond looked terrified as his uncle closed in on him pointing his sword at him. Alicent pushed her son behind her as her sworn shield unsheathed his own blade in the prince's defense. Naerys wondered if Daemon would take his other eye. She wondered what the king might do as he ordered both Ser Criston and his brother to drop their swords.

“I fell.” Daenys' little voice cried. Her wailing had started once more. She buried herself into her mother's neck at her confession. Naerys did her best to try to console the young princess but she rambled on between sobs. “Cousin Aemond told me to go and I fell. He did not push me.”

“Daemon.” Her husband had not heard their daughter's muffled pleads. It was doubtful the rest of the hall had heard her. Her uncle snapped his pale neck towards them. Her uncle saw red, but his fire could be extinguished when he learned of the truth. He was a man capable of reason despite his hot-blood nature. “She fell. Your nephew did not do this.”

Naerys' husband stormed away from Alicent and her son. He would not believe their daughter's declarations until he saw for him. Looking into a matching set of violet eyes he took their daughter back from his wife’s hand. Shushing her as she babbled out apologies. “I fell kepa. I am sorry.” It was an accident. Daemon saw that. A childish accident.

Maester Orlys had finally arrived. Mindful of his wife's health Daemon directed one of the servants to fetch a chair commanding her to sit. Naerys did not argue. She had been standing for much longer than she should have. The day had exhausted her and drained a great deal of her recovering strength.

Daenys crawled into her lap as the Maester cleaned her wounds. Curling a hand around her mother’s coils the same way she did as a babe. Her poor child. If Naerys had not been so caught up in her own pain, Daenys could have been avoided.

The shouting around them recommenced. Each mother blamed the other and the king remained lackluster in his defense of both. Preferring to take on his version of impartiality. Who was he to choose between his son and his grandsons?

There could be no impartiality when his own son had lost an eye. If someone ever laid a finger on Daenys she would tear them apart limb for limb if Daemon had not gotten to them first. It was the king's blatant refusal to do anything for his son that disturbed Naerys the most.

It did not make it right, but Naerys knew why Aemond had claimed Vhagar. The boy's egg had never hatched. Out of all of Alicents children, he was the one who desperately clung to his Valyrian heritage. Her husband and her young cousin were alike in that regard. He had always scoffed at him for his Andal blood, but Naerys could see the restlessness of a second son in Aemond. He had wanted to prove himself and Vhagar was the way to do it. The largest Dragon in the world, the last living relic from the days of the conquest and she now belonged to a boy of ten name days.

“Daenys was party to this. Perhaps she should be questioned as well.” Rhaenyra turned her sharp gaze to the small girl in her cousin's lap. Daemon's violet eyes narrowed at his niece, but it was Naerys who spoke for their daughter.

She advanced towards Rhaenyra. The woman clutched her sons closer. Her uncle Lord Corlys stood by her side in absence of his son as his wife clung to their granddaughters, the last remnants of her daughter. Naerys would not be intimidated by her cousin's attempts at victimhood. She had gone too far by trying to accuse her daughter, a little girl of four name days, of aiding in alleged treason

“She fell and hit her head, sweet niece.” Naerys turned to face the king. Daenys would not be questioned by her cousin. She would not be brought into a fight that was not theirs. “My daughter can scarcely recall what happened to herself, much less the reason for the disagreement between your son and your grandson’s your grace or why Prince Aemond called them such names.” Naerys did not care if she was impertinent. Her cheek would no doubt be blamed on her recent losses. Better to let them think that she was weak.

The sickly man simply waved her off, going to question his sons. Their mother desperately defended them, but it was a vain endeavor. Viserys would not have the legitimacy of his beloved daughter's heirs questioned even at the expense of his sons or the truth of the matter.

The king demanded for the two factions of his family to kiss one another and apologize for whatever hurt they inflicted upon each other. The fighting must stop as they were a family. Devastation took over the queens. Tears clouded her dark eyes as she stared in disbelief at her husband's verdict. His choice to shield his daughter in favor of his son.

Alicent's inaction did not last longer than a minute. She grabbed her husband's dagger before anyone could stop her. Naerys tried to push herself out of the way from the queen's warpath as she came rushing towards Rhaenyra. The princess found herself caught between the queen and the would-be queen as Alicent demanded justice for her son and her own sacrifices. Her duty. Her stepdaughter laughed at every lawful devotion she held dear. Rhaenyra lorded above them all.

Naerys noticed Daemon scrambling to make his way to her, but he was held back by Ser Criston and two other members of his brother's kings guard. Calls for Alicent to release the dagger and the princess reverberated around the hall, among them was her own father, but the queen would not listen. She wanted blood.

Corlys tried to pull Rhaenyra back to him, but the three women stood locked in each other’s grips as Alicent tried to gain the upper hand, pointing her blade near her rival's eye. The crown princess taunted the queen. “Exhausting, isn’t it? Hiding under the cloak of your own righteousness, but now they see you as you are.” The Hightower woman swung her dagger at the princess forgetting that Naerys stood between them.

She felt the pain before she lowered her eyes to see blood running down her arm bleeding into her cream nightgown. The white bone peaked out from the exposed flesh. Naerys brought her uninjured hand to touch it, letting out a hiss at the sting. She grew dizzy at the sight.

Daemon came rushing to her, finally breaking through from the crowd that had parted in horror. Her husband wasted no time, putting pressure on her wound as he ripped off the left sleeve of her robe in a makeshift bandage. Lifting her before her legs gave out.

Naerys had lost too much blood with her last birth. She was not to exert herself. Not in this way. Her body was healing and who knew how far back this might set her. Alicent attempted to make her apologies. It was an accident. She had not meant to hurt Naerys.

Daemon brushed the woman off, casting a glare that would have killed her on the spot if it possessed the capability to do so. The queen had only escaped the physicality of her good brother's wrath. Her husband had made the wise decision of ordering his Kingsguard to apprehend Dark Sister when Alicent first grabbed

Rhaenyra went to follow them, but Daemon openly glared at his oldest niece. Demanding that she get a hold of herself. “Do you not think you have embarrassed yourself enough for one night?” Rhaenyra sulked back to her boys, avoiding the eyes of judgment that fell upon her. As they made to exit the great hall a teary Daenys began to trail after her parents, reaching up for her mother’s hand. Naerys limply squeezed her daughter’s hand giving her a reassuring smile. She tried not to give into the drowsiness that threatened to overtake her. She would not let it win out.

High Tide’s halls had grown quiet in the early morning. The rest of her uncle's guests had settled back into their chambers. The excitement of the evening had worn them out, but they would be up soon enough. More than likely journeying away from the havoc that had enfolded.

Daenys refused to be put to bed by her nursemaid until she knew that her mother would be out of danger. Curling into her mother's side as Maester Orlys sutured her arm. Naerys was not to strain herself further or lift anything heavier than a cup of tea for a fortnight. There would be a scar. That was unavoidable for the knife had torn through skin fat and tissue to reach the bone underneath, but the wound would heal nicely with proper care.

“Did you promise to give her a son?” The princess was the first to break the silence. Daemon had seated her in his lap on their bed as he stroked her un-injured arm, trying to lull her to sleep. Their maester had ordered her to get some rest. They were to travel home in mere hours. She needed her strength, but the events that occurred over the course of her cousin's funeral were too fresh to forget.

“Yes.” Daemon let out a sigh as he kissed her head, continuing his caresses. They were both too tired to lie or argue with one another. “I did not think that our marriage would be a happy one.” Naerys let out a soft snort, but her husband shushed her. Placing another kiss into her coils. “She had asked me to after she gave birth to Jace. Then again with Luke.”

“Why didn’t you?” He had plenty of opportunities too. In the early days of their marriage, Rhaenyra had been a constant in Dragonstone’s halls. Naerys could barely turn without seeing her cousin in the company of their uncle. Leaving Ser Laenor to entertain her. It would be easy enough to have her slip into his chambers during the night. To give his favorite niece a Valyrian son. His niece-wife would be none the wiser. She could not picture him ever denying the crown princess who he had wanted for so long, but he had.

“You seemed so lonely.” Naerys frowned slightly at her husband’s admission, but the man laughed, pulling her up so that she sat on his lap facing him. He moved his warm hands up to encircle her face. Amethyst eyes met violet.

Loneliness was an expectation of her life. She had grown used to the state with the passage of her own mother. Naerys had her mother’s brothers and her aunt after that, but some days it was hard not to feel like an interloper. They had not put up much resistance when her fathers half brother deigned to take her away to another empty palace. It was her duty. Her cross to bear became not so very unbearable.

“I did not mind it little one.” He beamed at her and it was a sight to see. “You were the first thing I had to myself that never belonged to someone else. I did not lie to my brother when I said that you were made for me.”

“Do you wish for a son?” The one thing that she could not give him. It is you who holds him back. If he ever was to have a son it would not be she who gave birth to him. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make if needs be. If it would make him happy.

“I wish for everything with you.” Daemon continued to stroke down her cheeks. Rubbing soothing circles luring her into a state of contentment. The princess leaned into his touch. “I wish for Daenys to have brothers and sisters, but only with you. Just with you Naerys. I’d rather have you than see Dragonstone’s halls bursting with babes.”

“I love you Naerys. I love you, my sweet girl. No one else. Do you understand sweetling? I don’t want anyone else. I have no need for anyone else. I love you.” Naerys had not realized that she had begun to cry softly until her uncle kissed away the tears that fell upon her cheeks, gently shushing her. “I am sorry that I ever made you feel otherwise, but I am yours as you are mine. You are enough for me. You have always been enough.”

Daemon bent down slightly to capture his wife's lips in a kiss. Their tongues danced. She tasted the salt from her tears and the earth and heat that belonged to her husband. There was no fight for dominance. Naerys let herself be swept away by her husband’s attentions. Enjoying the warmth that spread throughout her worn body.

A knock sounded at their door. Naerys had to push her husband away to stop letting out a breathy giggle at her husband’s annoyance. The man groaned before placing one final kiss, or two, upon her lips.

Grudgingly making his way to the door to find the queen waiting for them. Ser Criston along with a fellow Kingsguard came with her. Though the latter stood watch in the hall, the first joined Alicent in their chambers. The Rogue Prince had not been given back Dark Sister, but any blade in his hand would be lethal. One could not be cautious enough.

Daemon tried to command the queen and her guards to leave. Goading her for her folly. “Have you come to finish the job?” It was Naerys who had to be the voice of reason when scolded her husband's silliness. Asking him to let them in. The man merely grumbled, but he listened to his wife’s bid. It would not do to be angry with Alicent when they knew she had not meant her any harm.

“Words can not express my deep regret princess.” The queen had knelt down on the floor in front of their bed. Taking Naerys brown hand in her pale one as the two men exchanged glares. “Nor my shame.” The Hightower woman’s glassy dark eyes flitted down to the stitches that graced the princess’s forearm.

“There is nothing to forgive sister.” Naerys returned her good sister's grasp. She knew that the blade had not been for her. Alicent had always been kind to her. Her quarrel lay with Rhaenyra and she had been unfortunate enough to be in the way when her anger got the best of her. “How is the prince?”

“The Maester was able to save his eyelid.” Alicent as she started to tear up. Wiping stray tears as they fell upon. She turned her gaze towards the chamber's dying fire. “He will make a full recovery. The king is pleased.” Her voice strained at her last words. Fury flashed in the queen's eyes before fading just as quickly as it came. Clearing her throat she turned back to face her good sister. “Your daughter, how is she?” Worry was evident across the Hightower woman’s face.

“She is fine, no thanks to your son.” Daemon sneered down at the woman. Coming to stand near his wife like a sentry. Ser Criston thankfully made no move to get closer to the queen. Though he did continue to stare down his old rival.” If you want something, spit it out. My wife needs her rest.” Alicent winced, but her focus stayed on Naerys.

“You are welcome at court anytime.” Daemon was about to retort when Alicent peered up at him.“Your brother would like to see more of you as well Prince Daemon.” The prince began to shift upon the balls of his feet. It amazed Naerys how her hot-blooded husband turned into a little boy at the mention of his brother.

“We will try to come to visit more often.” Daemon looked less than pleased with her reply, but Naerys would deal with her husband later. The king would not be around forever. Daemon had always loved Viserys. He would regret it if he was not closer to the king in his final years.

“Your daughter seems fond of my son. As is the prince.” It was said with an innocent enough smile. The woman was partial to Daenys. Inviting her to take tea or join her sewing circles with her and Helaena whenever they visited the Red Keep. The little princess was an easy enough child to get along with and a delight to be around, but Alicent was her father's daughter. Naerys could not forget that.

“That would be the one with the missing eye, correct?” Naerys swatted a hand at her husband in admonishment, but the man only reached for said hand bringing and bestowing a kiss upon the back of it. His violet eyes softened briefly before turning back to Alicent. “Our daughter is four. Your son is far too old for her.” Naerys was thankful for the fact that her uncle left it there. “You should check on him. I’m sure he’s missing his wet nurse.”

Fearing having overstayed her welcome Alicent offered her a small smile, squeezing her hand one last time before departing. Ser Criston trailed after his queen, making his exit with a bow and a ”princess” to Naerys while completely ignoring her stone-faced husband.

The Stranger still clung to Hide Tide. Making one final visit before he too would retreat for a spell. His work was never done. This time it had chosen another Velaryon to call to the Gods. Naerys' cousin Ser Laenor.

Neither Lord Corlys nor Rhaenys had come down to break their fast. A common occurrence during the duration of their short stay. Ser Vaemond saw the king and his party off as they left before noon. Aemond rode off on the back of Vhagar while the rest of the party boarded ships that would take them back to King's Landing. The other visiting funeral guests departed shortly after. High Tide was returning back to some version of normality. Though the absence of Lady Laena’s spirited presence was felt greatly.

It was Rhaenyra who broke the news of her husband’s passing to her uncle and cousin-aunt. The Targaryen couple were standing by the bay ready to return to Dragonstone, by the skies and sea, when the crown princess came rushing down towards them.

“My husband is dead.” With tears streaming down her pale face Rhaenyra launched herself at her uncle. “They murdered him. His friend, Ser Quarl, murdered him.” It had not come as a great surprise. The company that Ser Laenor had kept was less than suitable for a man of his rank. His lovers had never been discreet and had been ill-tempered for the role of the eventual prince consorts paramour.

“Take me with you back to Dragonstone.” Gripping her uncle tight enough for her knuckles to turn white one might think that she was grief-stricken. A part of Rhaenyra might mourn the loss of a husband and a great friend, but Naerys knew her games.

“I can not stay here. Not here with his parents. I can not be alone uncle.” The crown princess switched to their mother tongue for the next of her impassioned pleas. Hoping to hark on some less-than-familial sentiment that the prince once held for his niece. “Konīr iksos daorun bona stands isse īlva ñuhoso sir kepus. Issa kepa would daor deny īlva bisa.” There is nothing that stands in our way now uncle. My father would not deny us this.

Daemon placed an affectionate pat upon the Targaryen woman’s arm.“Comfort your children niece. They will need you.” Giving her a kiss on her cheek he turned to climb upon Caraxes' back. Taking to the skies once Daenys was placed securely in front of him. Maester Orlys ushered Naerys onto their vessel while the crown princess stood a white-faced statue paralyzed by the shock. Watching on until her beloved uncle and his family became distant dots in the sky and sea.

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[naelys-the-aster]

Jorrāelagon Zālagon Chapter Two

Niece to Otto Hightower, Hand of the King, and cousin to Lady Alicent Hightower, you become ensnared in the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen. After hearing of a sensitive marriage arrangement, you learn the prince is running out of time... and options.

A/N: I love that everyone is enjoying this fiction, please keep ask the asks coming! Also Rhae = Rhaenyra, Not Rhea Royce.

Word Count: 6,381K

You and Daemon left the garden of the gods wood, trailing slightly behind the prince through the vast hallways and corridors of the keep. The hairs on your neck stood up as you felt the eyes of the Maesters, maids, and servants on you.

It felt like an oblivion, an endless journey, but you finally reached the large doors of your chambers and thanked the Rogue Prince for his escort with a smile. He gave a quick smile back and nodded, “Try to keep your eyes dry my lady, I will take your words into consideration.” And with that he turned on his heel, letting his footfalls echo through the corridor as he made his exit.

The chamber door creaked open loudly as you stepped into the room, “There you are!” Alicent exclaimed throwing her arms around you. You smiled and gladly returned her embrace.

“I lost you in the masses.” She said pulling away from you.

“Yes, I was one of the last ones to exit the throne room, I- uh- got caught up with the maidens of the court, I’m sorry cousin.” Alicent breathed a sigh of relief as she motioned you to sit down with her.

Your room was decadent, golden fixtures and satin silks draped the large room, antiques from all corners of the seven kingdoms neatly placed and dusted littered the room in an organized manor, that of which you would clean in times of great stress. The chairs that resided in front of your bed were made from the finest laces and linens, carved by the finest of craftsmen, and a small class table rested in between the two chairs. Alicent had a maiden bring in a fresh pot of tea, which sat on the table with two intricately decorated cups.

“Come cousin, sit with me.” Alicent patted the chair next to hers as she sat and you gladly followed suit.

“I have news” she whispers pouring you and herself a streaming hot class of black tea.

“Oh, do go on.” You quietly exclaimed picking the hot cup from the glass table, bringing it to your lips.

“This cannot leave this room Y/N,” you nodded in understanding, of anyone to keep a secret it would be you.

Alicent sipped her tea before continuing, “my father has spoken with the king and he has informed me that Daemon is to be wed”

You feigned shock, “Was that what the king spoke of after we exited the throne room?” your shock must’ve been believable because your cousin carried on with this juicy gossip.

“As punishment for his action in slums apparently” she sipped her tea once more.

“Does the king have a lady in mind?” Though you already knew the answer to this.

“The lady Rhea Royce heir to Runestone will be betrothed to him if Daemon does not choose a worthy maiden himself.” You nodded at this, at this point its hard to react..as you already found this out through an accidental bout of curiosity.

“The lady Rhea Royce is a fair and beautiful maiden.” you said plainly.

“Yes, indeed, do you think that their will be any contenders for the prince’s hand?” Alicent swirled her cup around in small circles as she gazed out of the large decorative windows of your room.

“I believe most women of the court find the prince to be rather…” what was the word you were looking for?

“to be rather coarse.” you finished setting down your cup. Alicent hummed in response and as if on cue the loud screeching of a dragon could be heard in the distance, Rhaenyra had finally returned home from her journey to Dragonstone. Cousin leapt up excitedly and grabbing your hand rushing you from your seat, “come! let us see Rhaenyra!”

The scent of dragon was a notable one, it could be described as a strong sulfuric scent with a musky tinge to the smell itself. Though Rhaenyra didn’t mind Syrax’s scent as she nuzzled her familiar.

“Rhaenrya!” Alicent called out waving her hands at her best friend. You followed suit and begave to wave and shout your greetings.

The three of you walked the halls to Rhaenrya’s quarters spilling the gossip about Daemon’s latest actions and the consequences to follow.

Rhae snorted as she laughed,“I highly doubt my uncle will find anyone to wed in such a short length of time.”

Ancient nodded in agreement and continued giggling as Rhaenyra pushed the heavy door of her bedroom open. “Do you believe my uncle started those fires?” although before you could respond while Rhae pushed on her chamber doors…

Which opened to reveal a shocking sight.

Daemon.

He sat on the edge of Rhaenrya’s bed, and his eyes connected with yours in shock. He didn’t expect you to be here. He must have not expected Rhaenrya to have any company in her presence upon her swift arrival.

Alicent and you froze in your place. This was strange, it still was before sunrise, why would he be nested in her quarters at such an hour?

Rhae tilted her hear and furrowed her brow in confusion, “Uncle, this is a surprise, what can I do for you?” she asked pulling off her riding gloves and tossing them on to her bed.

He did not respond, not with words, he simply shifted his gaze from you to Rhae, his brow raised and Rhaenrya responded instantaneously, “My friends, may I have a moment alone with my uncle?”

This was confusing, why would Daemon be waiting for Rhaenrya? But before you could give any indication of protest Alicent was dragging you down the hallway. She paused, stopping abruptly as if she couldn’t hold her words inside any longer.

“Alicent, stop, you’re hurting me!” you whispered harshly.

She turned to you in a dead locking her eyes with yours. “I fear for his intent on Rhaenyra”

“W-what?” Your brow was firmly knitted in confusion, did she know something that you had not?

“I do not trust him with Rhaenyra.” her voice rang firmly this time.

‘No.. she can't mean she thinks.. they are-’

You cut your thoughts off “No, Daemon is reckless.. but you do not think he would-“

“He has been given free reign to chose whomever he wishes to wed, why not Rhaenrya?” Alicent’s tone was sharp, and you inwardly cringed at the very suggestion.

She continued ranting about as the two of you reached the gardens.

“Why would the Prince be in wait for Rhaenrya if not for a salacious reason?”

You could only shake your head, “I do not know.” These matters are none of your concern, it was none of your business who prince Daemon carried on with. Though imagining it being Rhaenrya…

There was something about the though that made your stomach twist, your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, and adrenaline being to coarse through your heart. Alicent grabbed your hands causing you to look into her eyes, “We have to protect Rhaenrya”

Her eyes burned with determination and her grip on your hands became tight again.

“We cannot allow him to corrupt her innocence.” She repeated sternly, with this all you could do is nod in response.

Dinner was served at a vastly large table for only 7 people. Those of which were Queen Aemma, King Viserys, Prince Daemon, Princess Rhaenrya, Uncle Otto, Alicent, and yourself. Every dinner was resembling a feast, glazed roast sat as the center piece of the meal tonight, with side dishes of goat, beef, and crab being passed around casually.

Your eyes were drawn to the white haired prince eating silently as Aemma spoke about the origin of the meal. Something inside you yearned for just one glance from him, just to be noticed in this instant.

But you were no the one to catch his eyes, it was you best friend Rhaenrya. Daemon had not taken his eyes off of her for a majority of the meal, leaving you wondering if you would even stumble upon his company afterwards. You poked at your food, but your appetite had faded with your interest of even staying at the table.

‘Daemon would not sully a maiden like Rhaenrya, he couldn’t’

‘I’m overthinking this, he was waiting to greet her’

‘Alicent is- is trying to put ideas in my head is all’

But Daemon and Rhaenyra were enthralled in their conversation of dragon riding and the various trips on dragon back had taken, it seemed as if everyone else was flourishing in the conversation at the table, Otto and Viserys were speaking fondly with Alicent and Aemma, everyone but you, until Rhaenyra cheered.

“Y/N! Im sure you would love to come with us!”

You lifted your eyes from your plate, “Uh, I’ve never.. ridden before” you mumbled feeling heat flood your cheeks.

“Then you shall on the morrow, we fly for Dragonstone.” Daemon chimed bringing his cup to his lips.

 Viserys smiled and laughed a loud commenting of how his first ride on Balerion was unforgettable. Otto’s eyes drifted to you, a for a second you caught him giving a stare of suspicion which had passed in a glimpse as he chimed in ushering a tale of the dragons from Valyria being the fastest as strongest of their kind. And Daemon had not given you any time, other than that one acknowledgement.

“You will do well cousin.” Alicent sang holding your hand as you walked to the dragon pit. She could tell you were nervous and respectfully so, “I could not find myself to mount such a monster.” She claimed kissing your hand.

The screeches and howls of the dragons were unmistakable as you approached the front of the large colosseum . The dragon keepers held their spears tightly in hand and shouted to each other in high Valyrian.

Syrax emerged from the shadows of the entrance letting out a high pitched screeched of anticipation. You stood with your cousin still in hand some feet away, your breath taken away by the size of the dragon and her surrounding golden aura. You could never understand why your cousin (and secretively your father) despised the so called “monsters”.

Rhaenrya mounted Syrax effortlessly and waved over to you and Lady Alicent, “Y/N! You’ll have to ride with Daemon!” she yelled as Syrax began to walk forward, her lrge foot falls reverberating the ground, lurching her saddle back and forth.

“Wait- what?”

‘No, no, no not that one!’

Alicent gave you a questioning look to match your own confusion.

“Just please be safe N/Y” Alicent said as she kissed your hands once more, your mind was spinning, you thought you would be riding on Syrax, a kind dragon used to having multiple riders- NOT CARAXES.

“A-Alicent I do not wish to ride-“

The ear shattering screech is what solidified your fear. From the entrance on the pit Caraxes snaked his long neck to observe the scene before him, before letting out powerful and deafening  roar. Dragon keepers held their spears at the ready and began yelling at the beast in their ancient dialect.

Caraxes was a wolf headed dragon, one of the most aggressive and seemingly volatile from the stories that you had heard. It was as if your body had turned to stone realizing that you would be on the back of a prehistoric killing machine… with Daemon.

As if on cue, the young prince made his appearance by your side, giving a small laugh of amusement of your bewilderment.

“He’s not that bad, I have a two-person saddle that befits Caraxes, it’s not as horrific as you think.” He gave a slight half smile before stepping towards the dragon reciting high Valyrian. Daemon caressed the dragons jaw earning a playful nudge from Caraxes and well as a deep groan.

Alicent had shrunk back from you and fell into the background as Daemon motioned for you to come over. You were frozen in your place until Alicent touched your back pushing you forward, you looked back at her a look of terror and fear scorned across your face. Your cousin mouthed you a goodbye and you turned back around, a stumbling ball of nerves.

This reptile was massive in compared to your petite stature, in just a second he could swallow you whole and you would never been seen again. Daemon obviously caught sight of your fear, bringing you out of your own thoughts he grabbed your hand.

Not a forcefully yank of your hand like you expected, but a soft motion in which intertwined your fingers with his as he brought your palm to the scaley calloused cheek of Caraxes. The texture of his scaled were that of hard leather plates, reminiscent of amor.

The beast let out a low guttural sound, “Worried he’ll eat you?” Daemon joked a smug grin making it’s way across his face, or at least.

You pulled your hand away from Caraxes, still overwhelmed, “I- I have never..come face to face with one.” His smile only grew wider.

“Let us go then”

Before you could ask how to get on the prince had thrown you over his shoulder, earning a surprised gasp from you as he hiked up the dragons fore wing placing you in the proper position on the saddle.

You straddled the thick and rigid leather saddle, Daemon seated himself in front of you, gripping the reigns and positioning himself towards you, “You may want to hold on, the take off is a little rough.”

“Hold on?”

You acted on impulse and wrapped your arms around the prince’s waist, unknowingly earning a smile of satisfaction from him as you pulled your body close to his. Daemon tightened the reins and yelled out to the dragon,

“Soves, Caraxes!”

The saddle began to rock vigorously with each enormous step forward the dragon took. You tightened your grip around Daemon’s waist burying your head into his back as Caraxes began to pick up speed.

With a whoosh he caught the air under his wings and the dragons body moved rhythmically from side to side. Rocking you back and forth vigorously, you almost felt like your body would fall backwards if you hadn’t been gripping Daemon for your life.

With a loud roar Caraxes broke through the barriers of the clouds, his body leveling out.

“Look now dear!” Daemon yelled over the rushing air. You pulled your face from his back and were struck with the golden beauty of the morning sun glistening over the clouds. Daemon took note of your speechlessness with pride.

“It’s- It’s Amazing!” you managed to get out, your eyes were sucking in the soft looking golden features of the sky, it was like being in the heavens! The rays of morning sun cast light spectrums of color to faintly peak though the mist of the clouds and the dragons wings parted any clouds obstructing the view around.

In you state of blissful awe , you hadn’t noticed your grip on the prince’s waist had loosened, and Caraxes began to nose dive.

You felt your body lift from the saddle, Daemon noticed the shift in weight and quickly grabbed your arm , wrapping it around his waist once more, gripping your arm close to his core. It could have been the adrenaline, could have been the fact you were falling at extraordinary speeds, or was it that Daemon actually wanted to keep you safe?

“Pālegon!!” He yelled.

Caraxes began to corkscrew into a nosedive and the excitement pent up inside your tiny form had been unleashed. You screamed and hollered with joy and excitement as the dragon plummeted through the clouds. Daemon was focused, telling Caraxes to pull up before the shimmering blue ocean could come into contact.

Caraxes screeched and seemingly whisked over the sapphire waters that currently bedazzled your eyes. The mist and salt of the waves below cooled your face and you found your chin resting on the princes shoulder, a smile that was to wide and full of joy plastered on your face. Daemon relaxed finally letting his stone face crack into a a smug half smile. He couldn’t even care if you were screaming in his ear, your elated screeches made him feel like he was riding a dragon for the first time once more. It was refreshing to him, not that he would ever show it completely.

The red giants leather wings echoed as they beat hard against the breeze while approaching the rocky and mountainous shores of Dragonstone. Caraxes wailed as he came to his landing as if he wanted to go farther.

You heart was still pounding in your chest as Caraxes' wings fanned the air, whipping up clouds of sand as the dragon screeched making its heavily footed landing. Caraxes shook his head, shaking the saddle, though this did not stop Daemon from praising the dragon.

"Lykiri, Syz" the prince purred.

His hand ran up and down Caraxes neck to what length was reachable. And this made you laugh aloud at the touching sight.

You managed to speak through your enlightened laughter "I love how you praise him."

Daemon hummed in response and stood upright on the saddle peering up at the large castle towering over you. In the distance the songs of Syrax could be heard, meaning Rhaenyra must've arrive short before you.

"Seems as if we've been beaten." Daemon mumbles looking towards the direction of the dragon's song.

"Let us be welcomed, my dear" Daemon said once again manhandled you down from the Saddle, fore wing, and finally setting you down on the dark sand beach of Dragon Stone. Daemon had started up the beach, to the stone stairwells that aligned with the entrances of the massive keep.

You knew Daemon wished to be welcomed and to ask (Interrogate?) Rhaenyra about how she arrived before the blood worm Caraxes himself. Something he found unbelievable and had to involve a sort of foul play.

But you couldn't help but fall to your knees, you couldn't help but dig you fingers into the dark glittery sands, you couldn't help but be taken away. The scenery, the high ridges of the cliffs and mountains peaking through the clouds, the sounds of the seas birds and the waves crashing to the shore, the smell of salt and the tinge of sea life. What was this? This was a fantasy- a fairy tale told by the nans and midwives.

Until he spoke up talking his stride behind you.

"You're a hermit."

You deadpanned the smug white haired prince.

" is he making a joke of me?" You blinked and looked up at him, then back at the beach.

"It's just a lot to take in, I haven't been outside of kings landing in so long." you droned lifting yourself off of the dunes dusting the sand off of your garments.

He hummed, “Yes, Otto likes to keep his ward in sight at all times.” Daemon muttered stripping his hands of his riding gloves.

 Your smile didn’t faulter at his comment, it was true, Uncle Otto had told you what happened to fair maidens that had left the safety of the wall of the keep. They were kidnapped, raped, sold into brothels, sometimes killed, and left in the streets.

He convinced you that the outside world was utterly terrifying, but this was not terrifying- not at all, this was exhilarating!

“My uncle always said that If I were to leave the safety of the castle I would surely be ravaged by the eyes and hands of men” you said softly, almost to yourself.

Daemon scoffed loudly and stifled a laugh, “It just takes the right one” he claimed smugly making his way up the sandy dunes of the beach. You felt a rush of heat burn at your cheeks and ears, Daemon glanced back at you and smirked, noting you had probably understood his insinuation.

“He’s such a.. a.. ugh!” your mind screamed. You shook your head and followed the young man up the shore to the stone steps leading from the mountainous beach to the castle.

“Oh Uncle, is it so hard to believe that Syrax can out fly Caraxes?” Rhaenrya laughed aloud falling into the couch of the eloquent living quarters. 

Daemon stood leaning against the frame of fireplace in front of the young girl, “Yes, because she can’t, witch craft I say.” He joked crossing his arms.

You giggled at their conversation as you sat next to you best friend, resting you head in her lap as she carefully braided your hair.

“Come now Uncle, don’t be such a sore sport!” Rhaenrya chuckled as Daemon exasperated rolled his eyes to the ceilings and shook his head.

“If you two wish to carry on your…” The prince motioned his hand in circles trying to find the right words “...hair braiding, I’m going to inquire how the kitchen tends to handle tonight’s feast.”

You turned you head towards the prince and smiled, “Thankyou my-“

Daemon’s brow raised causing you to quickly catch yourself, “Daemon.”

A smirk flashed on his features before he exited the room, causing a warmth to bloom from your chest, it was his smile, one that not many people see that made you feel content. Rhaenrya seemed to have been oblivious to the interaction and continued to braid your hair into intricate designs, much like the ones she and her mother wear with pride.

“Sit up, Y/N and turn around, I’m going to do the back now” Rhaenrya continued swirling and folding one piece of hair over the other, tugging lightly at the strands and asking if she was pulling too tight at times. You propped yourself upwards with you back facing your friend.

“Rhae, may I confide in you?” you mused narrowing your curious gaze back at her.

“Should I ask… why Daemon was waiting for her?”

“Of course, Y/N I will always be here to listen” she replied sweetly…innocently.

“No.. I treasure our friendship too much..it would be to obvious of an insinuation”

“I fear for the persons responsible for burning down the building in Flea Bottom… but I cannot help but question..” you paused, thinking about how to word the question with no offense offered.

You took a deep breath and continued on, “Daemon has been accused, I can’t help but think of those 300 civilans, burning alive with no escape, do you think Daemon would actually harm the people of Kings landing?” you looked down and began to pick a your finger nails, a nasty habit you picked up in your time spent with your Uncle and dear Cousin.

Rhaenrya stopped the fluid motions of her hands and let out a laugh. This surprised you... but in a way eased your nerves, if had been clear Daemon was involved, she would have a much more serious affect.

“My father did not put him to death, so that must mean he is not responsible, if he was, I’m sure my Uncle would be deep in the crypts of the Keep by now.” she resumed brushing and braiding your hair. But something did not sit right, and Daemon’s point in the throne room held validity. If he wanted to kill as many people as he wanted…why not with dragon fire?

But what if he didn’t want to be caught either? A giant dragon flying over the city was quite noticeable easy to pick out who the rider is by the color and size of the dragon.

“Does this trouble you?” Rhaenyra chirped.

“it’s just.. if Daemon was not responsible, that means someone out there is.”

Rhaenrya frowned and placed her hands on your back, “Let us forget the squabbles and rumors of Kings Landing, we’re here at Dragonstone! Tis’ the time to be happy, tomorrow you and I will venture the seaside on horseback.”

She reminded you of her father in that moment, putting all stressors aside to enjoy quality time, even offering up adventures to assuage the mind of her distressed friend.

She drew closer you your ear as she leaned from behind you and whispered “Maybe well find buried treasure along the shores”

You burst out in a fit of laughter, “Yes! Us to be pirates!” you managed to say between your giddiness. Rhaenrya smiled chuckling to herself as you trailed on about how you and her would find a chest full of gold, enough to purchase a ship larger than Corlys Velaryon’s, and would sail the world collecting trinkets and various fruits.

“We could steal a lemon tree from the streets of Pentos, and nobody will know it was two girls!” Rhaenrya cheered. If only that could be, but your friends actions uplifted your mood, and soon enough she told you to stand up and look in the mirror that sit in the corner of the room.

“It’s beautiful, thankyou so much Rhae!” you threw you arms around her embracing her in a tight hug. Her gorgeous white smile gave a comfort to your worries, maybe it was just a Targaryen thing, maybe they just had a way with making those close to them feel accepted and happy. A knock on the door cause you both to separate and calm your hysterics.

“Come” she called out.

“Hello my Lady, Hello Lady Hightower,” you cringed in your mind at that address, you secretly wish you had no surname at, all hells Snow would feel more comfortable, just the name Hightower..made you feel different than the company you occupied, left out, it made you miss your father and mother, the name reminded you of your callous Uncle.

But you nodded in reply as she continued, “Supper is to be served within the hour, the prince requests you ready yourselves.” And with that she bowed her head and exited the room. You glanced at your reflection once more.

Your hair had been braided in an up position, braids cascading along side your head and into one large mass of woven threads, the beauty could not be replicated by Queen Aemma’s maiden hand herself.

You bid your short goodbye to Rhaenrya until supper and were escorted by a kind knight to your temporary quarters to quickly ready yourself. Your luggage had flown with Syrax… maybe that was the reason you had to ride with Daemon and his hyperactive dragon.

Green, Green, Green.

“what the fuck? Why are all my garments of the same color?! Gods!”

“Fuckin’ hells” you gasped and clamped your hands over your mouth in shock. No, did you just? No, well, yes but no. A lady should never engage in such language... it’s- it’s unbefitting!

“There you go, black as night” you gleamed at your dress, that of which was black with grey embroidery. It fit your form excellently as well as the complimenting jewelry and earrings.

A knock at your door pulled you away from vanity and you called out in response, “come!”

The same servant from earlier bowed and offered to escort you to the grand dining hall.

The halls of Dragonstone where different than Kings landing, the architecture is more rough around the edges, and the halls were dark the color of the mountains, and the floors were semi contrasting to the walls. You past Busts of former house holders and dragons, many of wall hangings that have withstood the time to past, it felt scholarly, educated, of a different time.

Two gentlemen threw open the dark large iron doors to the grand dinning room for you to be immediately greeted by Rhaenrya.

“Y/N! Come sit they’re about to present us with our meal.” she patted the chair next you her and you happily plopped down next to Rhaenrya, but there was one less person at the table, Daemon was absent. Yet wasn’t he the one organizing this dinner?

As if on cue the large doors opened once more, and the prince strolled coolly down the aisle , taking his seat next to you, at the head of the table. Servants scattered across the room with plates and saucers filled to the brim with lobster, crab, pork, lamb, chicken, and assorted custards, breads, vegetable and condiments. All steaming as the plates clanked to the stone table before you. Mouthwatering, in a literal sense, you quickly swiped a napkin on the table and dabbed the corner of you lips. You could’ve sworn you heard Daemon stifle a low chuckled making you blush.

“I know, it looks so good, give the kitchen our praise, please” Rhaenyra chimed picking up her cutlery. The servants nodded in an odd unison and left the three of you to eat in peace,

You place your elbows on the table, close your eyes, and clasp your hands together about do your duty and to pray to the Seven until-

 A hand found its way a top of your own, it was Daemon, “There’s no need for that.”

Your heart jumped for a second at his touch. His hands where larger than your own, they were warm and you could feel the callouses that ran along the top of his palm.

 “I’m sorry” you mumble unclasping your hands, resting them on the table, but his hand…was still atop of yours, his eyes smiling at you and you smiling back.

“Don’t be sorry, Targaryen’s don’t worship the seven is all.” Rhaenrya muffled a loud.

“Must you speak with you mouth full of loaf?” Daemon teased followed by a fake exasperated sigh. You laughed, pulling your hand from under Daemon’s and flicking a piece of bread at Rhaenerya, “yes princess mind your manners!”

Rhae proceeded to shovel food in her mouth in protest “Neber!!” the hysterical laughter came from you two as Daemon held his head in his hands, shaking playfully at the foolishness shown to him in this moment.

Dinner was eventful, you drank the finest wine for the first time in a long time. Everyone engaged in harmless talks of gossip floating around the kingdom, war plans Daemon knew of, and even a little trash talk of the lords Westeros (especially that of a certain Jason Lannister) was joyfully thrown around. This is what a family dinner should be, laughing, storytelling, talking about the news. This was a major difference from the quiet dinners around the table with you, Alicent, and Otto. Dinners in which Alicent received praise and you were undermined for your lower position in the family.

This is what you wanted, sarcastic remarks from your best friend and a charming replies to them from Daemon, this felt right and for a moment...you felt like you were apart of the Targaryen family. That’s all you ever felt like you wanted, to be part of a family that cared for one another.

You were three glasses into your wine, becoming somewhat tipsy by the end of the dinner festivities. The servants came to collect the plates, sauces, and silverware and everyone was dismissed from the table. Rhaenrya blissfully said she was headed to her chambers to nap off the heavy meal and you found yourself humming to yourself while hopelessly navigating the hallways of the unfamiliar castle.

Blissfully buzzed, you spun on your tiptoes and perched yourself by a large window that looked over the darkening skies and sea.

Though, suddenly Alicent’s words rang in your ear. “Why would the Prince be in wait for Rhaenrya if not for a salacious reason?”

You shook your head, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came.

"I'm please you enjoyed the preparations made"

You jumped at the voice and turned around to see him, "Gods, you scared me" you say holding your chest, this man had a strange ability to be heard when he wanted and dead silent when he wished.

He slowly strut passed you, tilting his head in the direction of the threshold of the castle, gesturing for you to follow. Yes, a walk along the beach side at night both of you tipsy from the endless supplies of whine. You walked through the large entrance trailing behind him in silence.

"the stars are so bright here" you mused looking at the twinkling accents in the black night above.

"Much better view than in Kings Landing" Daemon replied looking up as well.

You let out a sad sigh, "I almost dont want to go back..." you looked to Daemon and back at the night sky, it was littered with more stars than you've ever seen from any tower in King's Landing. He noticed the shift in your mood among mentioning King’s Landing.

Daemon felt a lot about your Uncle, but most of all he secretly despised how Otto Hightower, was practically keeping you hostage. Daemon knew little of how you actually came to King’s Landing, he did not know what end your paternal parents met, but he was sure that you were not treated as you should be.

His quiet voice, that of which was just above a whisper, broke your sadness “You should stay in Dragonstone, stay here.” He held out a hand to you helping you on to the sand dunes down from the stones steps of the winding stair way.

You took his hand and once more your face began to heat up, “I-I could not, My uncle would be so furious” you say as you stepped down. You didn’t let go of his hand, the truth was you did not want to. There was something about his touch that eased all the worries and anxieties that ailed you. And the young prince did not oppose as he kept your hand in his.

The two of you walked the shore line in the moon light, you could not tell if it was the uneven sand of the beach of the wine that made your body sway slightly with each step.

Probably the wine.

Daemon swayed every now and then himself, though you were sure this man could drink you under the table, so maybe it was the formation on the beach itself- for him atleast.

Your eyes glanced down to your hands, intertwined with one another still, the heat from between your palms contrasting the cold ocean air that fanned the two of you.

Daemon crossed your path and groaned as he sat down, not paying mind to dirtying his clothes in the sand. You stood over him, still intertwined.

 “Sit Y/N”

The sound of the waves crashing to the shore could not possibly match the sound of the blood rushing to your head. Had you heard him correctly?

Before you could lower yourself next to him, he pulled you down, and you fell between his legs. You froze for a moment, questioning if this was real, is this a result of a drunken dream, a stupor of sorts?

Daemon pulled you to him, you sat between his legs, feeling the warth that emanated from his body. You noticed you hadn’t released the breathe of air from you lungs and did so while leaning into his chest. He noticed you were tense, Daemon  rested his chin atop of your head and turned his eyes up to the constellations above.

You mind rushed with your blood as he placed two arms around you. Finally, you closed your eyes sinking into this feeling of warmth that of which you’ve never experience with another person in your life.

You could only imagine what was going through his head, what his intentions were from this trip, the dragon ride, the feast, and now… a moon lit walk on the shores of his birthplace. Why?

“Why does that prick keep you locked away in the keep?”

Though the insult to your uncle was clear, Daemon was calm, evening tightening his hold around you.

“My Uncle just.. has an unfavorable view of the world, he believes a woman should perform her duties without being deterred” He couldn’t handle the sadness that sung with your words. You felt him drawn in a large breath and a shallow exhale that followed.

“That’s the long way to say cunt, I suppose” he muttered.

You pulled away to look back at his face, “I know you don’t favor my uncle, sometimes I feel as if he doesn’t have my best interest in-“

Daemon snorted, “Then hes a cunt, that’s what he is! Just admit it!”

You let out a light chuckle, “No! using that language is just inapporiate for a lady” you playfully smacked his shoulder. He rolled his with a toothy grin.

“yes, is that what your Uncle told you?” He placed his hands on your shoulders letting his lips fall by the side of you cheek, the heat of his breath warming the cold shell of your ear.

“Say it” he whispered smoothly, “say what he is, my dear”

The giddiness and excitement was beging you boil inside.

“A cunt” you squeaked softly, this made Daemon chuckled as he squeezed your shoulders.

“Louder.”

“A Cunt” you spoke up, though he was not satified.

“Cmon say it louder!” he called out, you began to feel something wash over you. A warm feeling mixed with this newfound energy.

“A CUNT!”

Daemon stood up bringing you along with his as he raised his voice and began to yell at the stars.

“WHAT IS OTTO HIGHTOWER?!” you've never heard him like this, not with this type of enthusiasm.

“OTTO HIGHTOWER IS A FUCKING CUNT!!!” you screamed to the sea.

Daemond shook you by your shoulders as he yelled to the gods this time, “TOGETHER!”

And that is precisely what you did, in unison, with all the air you both could muster you both screamed.

“OTTO HIGHTOWER IS A FUCKING CUNT!!!!”

You broke out into hysterical laughter, this felt so relieving, being able to curse for the first time and not be reprimanded or punished. Daemon laughed as he fell back on to the sand and you collapsed once again between his legs, letting your head rest on his chest.

The laughter between the two of you subsided into breathless heaving as you and Daemon attempted to catch your breathes. Until silence fell to the waves of the ocean.

“Thankyou Daemon”

He looked down at you with a look of confusion, “For?”

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his torso, “You saved me from falling off Caraxes, thankyou.”

Daemon let out a soft sigh placing his hand gently on your head, carressing your hair, “I could never let you fall, my dear.”

Tag List: @moonmaiden1996 @loveandlewis @loveandlewis-reads @queenofshinigamis @omgsuperstarg @ttae-yong @shelbyteller

Give your thoughts and opinions below! Thankyou all so much so your support in this work!

Much Love To You All,

Naelys of House Aster x

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #Daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #the rogue prince #daemon targaryen insert #daemon targaryen fic #daemon x reader #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon insert #hotd #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones x oc #targaryen x reader #house of the dragon x you #got insert #got #house of aster

[illustrator-dani]

Rogues and Dragons Chapter 17: One Step Away

Rogues and Dragons chapter 17 is done! IT IS RIGHT HERE!

“Hold on Rayla! We’ll get you out!” Ezran yells as he takes cover behind a thick tree. 

“Zym? What are you doing out here? Get back with Ez!” Rayla yells, panic filling her upon seeing the young dragonborn prince step out behind the thicket. 

“No, bad man hurting you!” He argues as he holds up a little wooden toy wand that Ethari had made for him an hour before they left. Without much training in magic arts, the dragonborn launches a guiding bolt on the dragonborn. The wee prince’s wand shoots out a colorful beam of light that lands directly in the mages chest. “Zym wins!”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26202436/chapters/98434089

#Rogues and dragons #fic: Rogues and Dragons #tails of xadia [Series] #tdp fanfic #the dragon prince #rayllum

[happilyhertale]

Do not sleep - Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Summary: An evening with your husband can be exhausting – but Daemon has no interest in letting you sleep.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Sex (p in v)

Author’s note:

I'm sorry it took so long for this story to come! But now, on the occasion of my 2k follower anniversary, a little Daemon Smut for you!

The story can be read as a stand-alone story or as a sequel to "Shared Future" English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 2.4 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Your eyes slowly close, but the smile doesn't leave your lips. The blanket envelops your bare skin, which is covered in a light sweat. Daemon's deep laugh echoes lightly through the room, a reaction to you calling him silly.

He presses his face gently into the crook of your neck, wrapping both arms around you from behind. He holds you so tightly that for a brief moment you fear you will never be able to move again. The warmth of your body flowing through Daemon's slowly makes him close his eyes too. His head is swimming, but he struggles to stay awake. It's just too good to be in your arms, he doesn't want to lose it.

"Don't fall asleep," he whispers suddenly, "I can't let you go yet.... Don't let you drift off to sleep yet"

You smile as his voice rings out, your eyes flutter open for a brief moment, but you lose the battle.

"Why...?" you finally whisper. Daemon gently brushes his nose along your neck, "Because I enjoy holding you like this.... I don't want to stop," he whispers softly.

But you only answer him with a sleepy moan.

"Please... just ten more minutes... Then I'll let you sleep," he whispers, even he knows how ridiculous this request is, but he can't help himself.

You laugh softly now, but you give in, "Okay... ten more minutes," you say softly and turn around in his arms, your purple Targaryen eyes meeting.

"But you'll be the one who's grumpy in the morning if you didn't get enough sleep," you say softly.

Daemon smiles gently, his fingers brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. You feel his chest rise and fall as his breathing slows and he just smiles at you. His fingers glide gently down your neck, leaving a tingling trail on your soft skin. His caresses continue on your shoulder as he begins to hum. Your smile widens as his deep voice rings out.

"A song of ice and fire..." he whispers. "And blood..."

He continues, looking deep into your eyes.

"I think my father made the right decision when he announced that I had to marry you," you whisper, biting your lip lightly.

"We're going to have a wonderful Targaryen family..." you whisper, running your hands over his firm chest – you feel the scars, achievements of dragon fire and battles.

Daemon leans forward, cupping your lips with his. His hands reach for your hips and he begins to caress your body. Almost gently, his fingers wander over your curves, gripping your soft flesh.

As Daemon processes your words, his lips curl into a smile.

"And an incredible marriage..." he whispers, letting his fingers slide on, "We are the definition of Targaryen. We would make Aegon and his sisters proud"

Your lips almost touch as you bite your lip lightly. Then you lean up and Daemon growls, disappointed at first. But then you swing your leg over his hip and you sit astride him, your hands sliding naturally onto his chest as your hips move slightly.

"Do you really think Aegon the Conqueror would be proud?" you ask seductively and Daemon growls slightly again, but this time not out of disappointment.

"That I married my uncle? That we'll have pure Targaryen children..." you say softly. His hands slide along your thighs to your hips, gripping you as his grin widens.

"I think he'd be proud to know that our house is as close to the gods as humans can get," he says playfully, no longer as serious as he usually is, but you manage to rouse his playful nature. You can see him staring at your body in the light of the candles, your curves and the way your body moves.

"Do you think the gods would approve of what we're doing?" he asks in a teasing tone. There's a certain innocence in the way he wants to hear your answer, but that doesn't make it any less attractive.

You start to move your hips a little more, eliciting another growl from Daemon. "I don't care what the gods think.... I love you..." you finally say softly, "And I love the fact that we're going to have pure Targaryen children..." you say seductively.

"That your seed makes me swell with your baby..." you say softly, watching Daemon's grin widen.

He slowly loses control of himself as you sit astride him and your hips move slightly. His fingers glide over your soft skin, leaving a fiery trail behind them as they slide to your bum and grab you. The fact that your skin is not covered by any clothes only excites him more. Your words intensify this arousal. The pride in his Targaryen heritage, the love and respect he feels for you, and how both together arouse him. He stares at your body and whispers softly as you move your hips.

"Does it make you proud? To have the blood of Aegon the Conqueror in you?" His voice is hoarse and a little rougher due to fatigue. There is passion and lust in his tone.

You listen to these words, loving the deep vibration of his voice as you reach for his hand and slowly guide it from your bum to your womanhood. You press his fingertips against your sensitive pearl, pushing your hips forwards slightly and making a rumbling sound in his chest.

"Yes..." you finally breathe, "Does it turn you on to have your niece as your wife...?" you ask softly, your voice a little breathless.

"It does," he whispers without hesitation, his voice a little rougher than usual. His hand trembles slightly, but he keeps it firmly where it belongs.

He stares at you as he presses his fingers onto your bundle of nerves. With your mouth slightly open, you sit on him and savour the feeling. He moans slightly as his fingers leave circular motions. His lust has taken control of his usual calm. There's something about this moment that feels more real than most.

You close your eyes and moan slightly as your hips continue to move.

The movement of his fingers is deliberate, but he takes his time. This is different from your previous lovemaking. He wants to see you squirm, he wants to see you moan. He wants to watch you while your body feels this pleasure.

There is nothing else on his mind but your body at this moment.

His fingers move faster, he feels the slickness of your arousal, smearing the wetness along your folds. Your fingers dig into his chest as you lean forward slightly, and another grunt escapes Daemon. His arousal can no longer be denied, his hardness presses against you and he begins to move his hips. Slowly he pushes it through your folds, making you shudder and whimper slightly. He watches you closely, but then he bites his lip and his free hand moves to your hip and his fingers explore your body, caressing your skin and playing with your flesh.

His hand glides down your body, over your soft skin, until he reaches for your breast and you gasp. His thumb teases your nipple while his other hand doesn't stop moving.

"Gods..." you whimper.

His cock continues to slide through your folds, back and forth, as his growl gets louder.

"Say it..." he suddenly whispers breathlessly, "Say you want to keep enjoying this. Say you want me to keep doing this until you can't take it anymore..."

His touch is gentle but firm – you can feel the heat of his fingers.

"Make me... make me squirm... make me come..." you whimper softly as your hips move almost desperately against his fingers.

Daemon grins slightly as he hears your words, noticing how your hips push against his fingers. He grunts slightly, his other hand finding its way to your hip, holding you tight.

"I'm your eager niece..." you suddenly whisper as you moan out.

His grin widens at the sound of your words. His hardness slides through your folds with each of his movements, soaked with your wetness.

"You will be the mother of my children and they will have your beauty and my strength," he whispers softly. He notices your thighs begin to tremble and he grunts again.

"Say my name," he whispers suddenly, "Say my name while I give you pleasure"

But you only moan as your fingers dig deeper into his chest. The movements of his fingers bring you to climax. Your head falls back as you moan loudly. Daemon feels the spasms of your cunt on his fingertips and he grunts loudly.

"Daemon... Daemon..." you whimper as his fingers continue to move.

Daemon smiles, his breathing heavy – he knows what you like.

"Good girl," he whispers as his fingers move slower. His other hand releases your hip and leaves caresses on your body, "But did I say you could come?" he whispers teasingly.

You're breathing heavily, still sitting astride him. His fingers are still embracing your womanhood.

"Forgive me..." you say with a gasp and a slight blush adorns his cheeks.

"You don't have to ask for forgiveness..." he whispers, but the smug smile doesn't leave his lips. His fingers begin to move again, and he pays attention to every little movement you make. The way your body twitches slightly as his fingers caress your sensitive pearl – his own arousal not gone in the slightest.

But his other hand is still on your hip, holding you tight. "It's not like you have much control over your body right now..." His voice is soft again, but you can hear the teasing.

You whimper slightly as his fingers move faster.

"Don't..." you whimper, trying to escape his grip.

"I'm sensitive... Daemon" you whimper, leaning on his chest and trying to lift your hips to move your womanhood away from his fingers.

"But it feels good, doesn't it?" *he whispers in his deep voice, "I love seeing your face when your body betrays you."

He watches closely how you react, every feature of your face, how your lips are slightly parted. The almost desperate, yet aroused, look in your eyes. Your face is so beautiful as you feel this way, and he can see that you're so close again and he's in control. 

"Good girl," he grunts as he notices your hips starting to move again.

Your eyes roll into the back of my head and you moan as you suddenly come again and soak his fingers. Your moaning and whining echoes in your chambers, accompanied by his grunting.

"Good girl..." he repeats his words and he grins.

Your body is his, and he's enjoying it. But he's still not done with you.

"We're not done yet..." He whispers softly as his fingers slow down. His voice is hoarse; there's so much lust in it.

"I'm not done with you yet," he whispers softly.

Without hesitation, he grabs your hips and lifts you up a little. He positions you just right, guiding the tip of his throbbing member to your drenched entrance. The feeling of your wetness on his cock sends a wave of pleasure through him, making his desire burn even hotter.

You moan as the tip of his cock presses against your entrance. He growls in response to your moans and his dominant nature takes over. The urge to claim you, his wife. The urge to feel your tightness consumes him completely. Without hesitation, he thrusts, slowly filling you inch by inch.

Your wetness surrounds him, your tightness grips his cock and he can't help but let out a deep, guttural growl. The feeling is overwhelming, the passion almost unbearable. He relishes the feeling of being buried deep inside you.

"You're so fucking tight... so wet..." he grunts as his hands rest on your hips, guiding you faster.

You slam yourself onto his cock over and over again. Daemon's eyes burn with desire as he watches him disappear into your tight cunt over and over again, as you ride him, soaking his cock.

"It hurts..." you whimper, but it turns him on even more and you can't stop as his cock teases your walls to the extreme.

"You like it when I take you like this, don't you?" he grunts.

"When I fill your pretty little cunt.... Feel every inch of me... take it," he grunts

You can only whimper and your cunt clenches around his cock again.

"Oh yes... I can feel you tightening... you love the way I fuck this cunt," he grunts.

His fingers dig into your hips as he matches your pace. Thrusting deep to meet your eager movements. The chambers are filled with the sounds of your lovemaking and your bodies slapping together.

His cock teases the rough spot deep inside you and you moan. Again and again he thrusts deep, making you squirm and whimper. The familiar pressure in your lower abdomen builds up again and your body trembles slightly. You bite your lip, your eyes closed.

"Daemon..." you can only whimper and then your walls clenches hard around his cock, milking it.

"Yes... Take my seed and let the baby grow," he hisses as he grunts loudly. His fingers dig deep into your soft flesh as he feels a twitch go through his balls and into his cock. You're still bouncing on his cock, your eyes closed, your mouth wide open as you moan, your cunt still clenching around his hard manhood. And that's enough for Daemon – he watches you, sees your breasts bouncing, he just grunts loudly, thrusts deep inside you once more and cums deep inside you.

He grunts and groans and closes his eyes. You're still moving your hips as the grip of his fingers loosens slightly. You breathe heavily and look at him while his eyes are closed and his heartbeat makes his whole chest tremble. For a moment it seems as if he's asleep – he just looks content. This brings a small smile to your lips and you lean down, your breathing still intermittent, but you can't resist. You kiss him gently. His lips curl into a smile as your lips meet. His eyes are still closed, his breathing is heavy, but his arms are now around you, holding you close.

"Now you may sleep...," he mumbles breathlessly and you respond with a giggle as you bury your face in the crook of his neck.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

@hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @dreamlandcreations @hopelesswritergall @bl4ckph0enix @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @fan-goddess @msmorningstaarr

#house of the dragon #hotd #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon smut #daemon fic #hotd daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon x y/n #daemon x you #hotd smut #house of the dragon daemon #prince daemon targaryen #the rogue prince #prince daemon #daemon targaryen x you #matt smith

[patty-08]

Too much

daemon targaryen x niece!reader

warnings: suicidal thoughts, death, depression, suicide attempt

Author’s note: This is my first work and English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Pain and hate, all I felt was pain and hate. The pain of losing my mother and brother. Hate towards father for sacrificing my mother for the male offspring. Self-hatred, not about any specific issue, but just like that. The pain of being betrayed by my uncle who named my dead brother "heir for the day". It was all too much and that's why I'm sitting on the balcony of my room, thinking about jumping. One tear rolls down my face and then... I'm ready, ready for the pain to end. To be free....

Suddenly strong arms wraps around my waist and stop me from jumping

'Let me go, please let me go' I cry, trying to free myself from his embrace

'its ok its gonna be ok' Daemon. It was a Daemon

I fell to my knees and he fell with me 'no no no its not gonna be ok let me go let me die... please let me die' I sobbed madly as daemon tried to calm me down

'hey hey its ok' he said hugging me to him 'just let it all go' He whispered when I stopped fighting his hug and sobbed into his shoulder

When I stopped crying, Daemon took my face in his hands

'never do that again. Do you hear me, never' Then I see it. Daemon had tears in his eyes and one of them rolled down his cheek. He was crying, I've never seen him cry before. He hugged me again and I don't know how long we stayed in each other's embrace

It still won't be okay for a long time, but it's the first step to being okay

#daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #depressed reader #suicide attempt #fanfic #depressing shit #tw depressing stuff #prince daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen fic #the rogue prince #daemon fanfic

[ladyviserra]

The Pleasure of Victory | Daemon Targaryen

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary: The Targaryen prince was well enough old to be married if only he would give in to his father’s pleas and marry any girl he wished, however, Daemon would much rather take a shorter stroll to his sister’s chambers.

Warnings: incest, fighting, swordplay, swearing, smut and much more inappropriate stuff

A/n: Had this in my drafts for a while and decided it was time to let it terrify the internet lol

“ You would love to be better than I wouldn’t you? “ He loudly spoke, enough for everyone watching them to hear. She only groaned, dogging another one of his hits.

She licked her lip which was already dry from her quiet mouth, that little move didn’t go unnoticed by him, nothing slipped from his eyes. “ Are you getting tired Y/n? “ The wait for an answer stayed short, as getting no answer he moved his sword again, just to be rejected by hers. “ It’s alright, you can quit, you know? “ 

Y/n knew he was teasing, trying to distract her from his mind and let her focus on his body language and then trick her. “ I will not do so. “ She swung, not succeeding in making the metal meet.

“ You have done well, no need to excuse yourself. “ Pushing his tricks harder and harder, Daemon could feel the victory.

“ Are you scared of losing? “ His tongue clicked at the same time as swords connected. Their faces were close and while he was barely breathing, Y/n puffed out the breath she was holding, making the bits of her hair move away from her forehead. She tried to concentrate and keep her eyes on his, knowing that was how she would be the safest. “ No. “

“ No? “ They were still in the same position until Daemon tried to catch her, failing. He laughed at the seriousness she currently possessed, just waiting til he was able to surprise her. 

“ Let your big brother show you how to win, so you can try it on Viserys. “ Y/n shook her head, refusing him. “ I am trying to help out. “ She was able to dodge him once again. Her eyes glow a bit more purple, flashing distress.

“ Y/n. “ He called her making sure she was still focused. Seeing the change her eyes made, he smirked. “ Don’t be so dark, sister. “ Shoving his sword to her, catching them in the same position in which they held eye contact, only this time they were closer.

The dark look escaped Y/n’s eyes, letting Daemon catch and lead her into his trap. “ Suprise. “ His words ran to his sister’s lips since they were that close. With just one turn of the eye, Y/n looked around them, thinking people were watching, seeing no one she searched for him, only to be turned around and pinned to her brother’s chest. The moment of distraction cost her another fight, ending up in the grasp of Daemon and Dark Sister.

“ And so I win again.” He grinned at the anger he knew she felt. Rolling her eyes at the blade that stood in front of her, she warned him. “ Don’t get too cocky, if you hold metal too close to the fire it will melt. “ 

At her remark, he only smirked. “ Then I will be careful to remove it just in time. “ Holding the sword a little longer to mess with her. Letting her free, the princess quickly turned to him, chest to chest. 

She had a frown on her face, seeming to be ready to have a tantrum. “ Now, maybe next time you will be able to get the upper hand. “ He said to her cheekily, staring down at her. 

“ Next time, I will top you. “ A grody laugh danced across Daemon’s lips. “ I am sure you will, little sister. “ He said it mockingly, taking his sword and placing it by his hip. Y/n caught his arm before the sword could be fully in its place, taking his attention. “ I said, don’t get too cocky, such behaviour always gets you into trouble. “ Finishing her sentence, she left the young man to see her walk away, wondering when he will be as close to her as he was today.

--------

Prince Baelon sat with his second son, to talk with him about his least favourite topic. Marriage.

" You know Daemon, it isn't so bad. You have a wife and children with her and you will remain on Dragonstone. " He tried to interest him in the idea.

" I don't want to bring anyone to the Dragonstone. " Daemon puffed the air out.

" Must I ask for ladies to be brought before you? " The older man rubbed his forehead, he could feel the small wrinkles that started to appear. " If that shall help you, then I shall do it. "

Daemon smiled with annoyance. " Father, with all respect, no ladies you or anyone else brings will interest me. "

His father signed in defeat, realizing his approach wasn't going to work. " Must you always be this difficult to convenience? "

Daemon moved away from the room they sat in, glancing at his father with a winning look on his face. " It would be too boring to agree with you just yet. " He admitted carefully.

The talks he held with his father about his marriage, more and more reminded Daemon of his big desire. The sweet maiden he could have, but only if she wanted it herself.

He couldn't keep denying the women that were offered to him. It wasn't that he wanted them, he knew that if he didn't pick by himself, he would still be married, even forcefully if it came to it.

In that case, he decided to once and for all take a chance with Y/n, before she too was offered to some old man she will never love and only despise.

By the time he reached her chambers, he could hear her voice. She was singing. He couldn't hear the words, nor detect the melody, but he sensed it was familiar to him.

The opened door revealed a Targaryen princess dressed in her light clothing, a nightdress perhaps. She stood in the middle of the room, holding a piece of paper. Her hair was put in a weak braid, which she tossed behind her back when focusing better on the words she was reading, before humming and lightly letting quiet words leave her mouth.

" I am honoured, dear sister. That you wish to write a song for me, for my impressive skills. " He walked in, stepping the most confidently.

" Nice of you to announce yourself. " Y/n showed her face to him, still holding the same paper. " I would have believed you would remember the song our mother sang to us. " She shook the paper a little, taking her focus from it, walking closer to him.

" But I am guessing those skills don't drag the memories that far. " Y/n turned it to him, so he could read the words. He took the paper in his hand, reading through the words, glancing at them and remembering the voice of his mother while hearing them in his mind.

" I just need a sweet voice to sing it to me, so I could pull those memories back. " He folded the piece in half, before letting it lay on the bed.

When he turned his head back to his sister, a serious glance graced his features. " Will you sing for me, my dear? " Daemon's mouth spoke to her, asking a question which at any time would same easy to read, but now caused confusion.

" Sing you mama's song? " She half laughed, thinking his serious face over such a simple question was funny.

A quick slash of Alyssa Targaryen came to Daemon's mind. He knew how much their mother loved them and how if she was still alive, she would encourage him to look out for his younger sister. Even marry her if they both desired. Knowing she would approve of their desires and wishes, wanting them to fight for the happiness they craved. He felt no fear in asking, but still, hoped she would agree with him.

" It would be nice. " He truthfully admitted. " But that is not what I am asking. " Her face at this point was lost in confusion. There was no reaction to make to his behaviour that made no sense to her.

" I am asking will you sing of your love for me. " He held her hands, putting them on his chest. He laid his own on her face. " Will you sing of pleasure when I lay you on this bed? " A gasping breath squeezed out of her, quickly closing the gap. " Will you sing my name because you finally fed the hunger you felt for me? "

Y/n bit her lip, pulling it in her and then releasing it. Daemon only watched, wishing she would give him permission to wet them himself. Her eyes watched him, but in a way, he never knew they could, however, he couldn't complain, as he could sense her starvation leach out.

" I want you Daemon. " Soon enough they started feeding on each other's lips. Popping out sounds of the final end to their misery. Daemon quickly picked her up, and she wrapped around him, not wishing to separate.

Her weak braid almost completely let out, and his hands travelled around her, freeing her from her nightgown, quickly he felt the same freedom she did. It felt so warming, their embraces, so loving. As if they felt a glimpse of godly happiness, just an unbelievable moment that they never knew could be that good.

" Oh, Daemon, I want you to have me. " Her lips were smeared with his taste, when the lower one touched the higher one, she could feel the sweetness.

" I wouldn't let you get away. " He swore to her, lovingly smacking his mouth on her skin. " Please, don't. " Her face shined like rubies and her eyes like amethysts. She never dreamed of such a feeling that she felt now. That she would be loved in such a way that felt sinful, yet not wrong.

" I want to feel you. Daemon, let me feel the victory. " She begged him with the look he could never refuse. " I suppose, good brothers share. " He breathed out, letting her sit on his lap and hug him with her legs.

As they felt each other, Daemon kissed her, killing the bit of pain she felt. " It's alright. " He reassuringly nodded. " Move when you want. " He expected her to start slow, but the fire that lit in her scattered quickly.

They hugged at each other's necks, letting their groans out, almost singing them in rhythm. Their skin clapped, cheering for the pleasure that was overwhelming them. They shared breaths, knowing they felt satisfied with the sinful act they committed. The loving looks showed no regret and no care for the consequences.

" You were right, winning is really amazing. " She told him, speaking in his ear. " Winners deserve to finish on top. " Daemon smirked at her teasing remarks. " I agree, however, let me be a winner from time to time. "

" You won my hand, now you just have to take that victory before the Gods. " She smiled. " People will let us be, let's just not mention them, the final act of the proposal. " They smiled together, loving glancing at the future they saw in their loved one.

#daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #prince daemon targaryen #rogue prince #the rogue prince #asoaif #asoiaf imagine #asoiaf fic #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones fic #hotd #hotd fic #house targaryen #house of the dragon

[queen-scribbles]

❛ it should have been you. ❜

for anybody really

Hawke sibling angst? In 2024? It's more likely than you think! Sigi + Bethany + first anniversary of fleeing Lothering (624 words) ----

The windowsill creaked and Sigi tensed, mentally rolling the dice on who was about to ruin her vigil.

"I thought you might be out here." Bethany. The better option, in some ways.

Worse, in others.

"S'quiet," Sigi mumbled, looking out over the city rather than at her sister. "And out of the way. Only place our beloved uncle won't nose around."

"I know... you probably want to be alone." Bethany hesitated. Her voice shook. "But Mother is just..."

A heavy sigh, head tipping toward the empty space next to her. "C'mon, Beth."

The sill creaked again as Bethany climbed over it, carefully balancing on the slanted roof. "Maker's breath, Sigi, did you drink all of that?"

Sigi laughed, hollow and empty as the whiskey bottle swinging between her tented-up knees. "Maybe? I didn't see how full it was when I picked it up." She hefted it to examine. "There might be a few sips left if you want..."

Bethany shook her head, nose wrinkling. "No, thanks."

"Suit yourself." Just as well, the bottle did look empty. It slipped from her grasp as she leaned her head back against the wall. Rolled to rest at the roof's edge.

She held her silence. Bethany had sought her out, she could carry any conversation she wanted to happened.

The silence stretched, Bethany's breathing uneven but never quite breaking on an actual sob. "It should have been you, y'know," she finally said, the words soft and free of rancor.

Not an indictment, just fact.

"I know." Sigi sucked her teeth stared up at the stars. Different stars, different angles on constellations he never got to see.

Can't believe it's been a whole fucking year.

"And I don't... I'm not wishing it had been, or that you died instead," Bethany rushed out, twisting the hem of her blouse in knots. "You're just always the one to rush in to protect us, and..."

"I know. The one time that little shit was faster than me..." She sighed.

It had been different with Father; wasn't much she or anyone could do about a wasting sickness. But that damned ogre... she could fight, had fought, tooth and nail, to protect her family, knuckles bloody, lip split. And she'd do it again.

Except for the one time it mattered. The one time she was too slow.

'This is your fault...!' She still heard Mother's recriminations in her head some nights.

'It should have been you...'

I know.

"I'd let him brag about fightin' an ogre and winning if he was here," she muttered, trying to pretend her eyes didn't sting.

"No, you wouldn't," Bethany laughed with a hitch at the end. "You'd duck his head in the water barrel and ask if he wants to take the rest of the horde instead next time."

"...Guilty." She still wished he was here, bragging, grumbling, dogged loyalty and all.

'It should have been you.'

"'M sorry he's not, Bethy," she whispered, near choking on the words. I should have moved faster, been paying more attention-

"Me, too. I'm glad you are, Sig," Bethany leaned her head on her shoulder and Sigi grimaced at the nickname only the twins got away with. Only Bethany got away with. "I just wish he was, too."

"I know." She didn't pull away, letting Bethany take solace from the contact, wrapping an arm around her sister's shoulders.

"I miss him."

"I know." So do I.

It should have been you--he was only eighteen.

It should have been you--maybe you would have killed it.

It should have been you--you promised you'd take care of them.

I know, I know, I know.

They sat on the roof for a long time, and didn't speak of that night again for far, far longer.

#queens fic #angst prompts #sigi hawke #bethany hawke #rogue hawke #man i hate writing carver dead #but i've done him and astrid talking about bethany it's ONLY FAIR #sigi's fun bc she's red hawke but does her best to be soft with her sister/other people she cares about #she's just v blunt. v full of Rage. and v protective :) #and doesn't really know what to do with emotions #dragon age 2 #da2