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asumofwords · 9 months

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Court, death, mentions of violence.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello angels! We are getting closer and closer to the end! Only 3 more chapters to go, I can't wait to finish this with you. I know I sound like a broken record, but jesus! I've had this bad boy ageing in my computer waiting to be posted haha. Anyone, Enjoy! <3

Chapter 107: And So The Tide Rushes to Shore

The news of the seizing of Kings Landing by Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen spread across the realm like wild fire. There was no corner that had not heard the news, nor person that had not swallowed in apprehension.

But the promise of war was over.

There would be no war.

No torching of the realm and its innocents, no destruction of Keeps and homes and livestock. No call for men to join armies and fight for the throne in a bloody and violent death. Nor women and children who would be left alone without their fathers, or husbands.

However, now was a time where the fragility of her rule would hang upon a delicate thread, and although Rhaenyra had her supporters, there were still those who had supported Aegon’s rule, and then subsequently Aemond’s.

The Small Council of the Greens had been rounded into cells by guards and knights. Gold cloaks flooding the Keep at the order of Daemon, a man who they had kept their allegiance to for all his time spent away.

And as Rhaenyra had personally escorted you, alongside Daemon, towards your original chambers, the ones that you grew up in, and not the one that now housed the corpse of your late husband, you walked quietly, dagger still in your hand, Daemon’s fingers unable to pry it from you just yet.

The corridors were a mess of Lords and Ladies, maids and servants who rushed and fled, were captured, and otherwise scattering like ants as they were unsure of what to do, or what was to come.

Above you, four large dragons, circled the Keep, crying out into the air. A vision of red, and green, and pale pearl flying about as they surveyed the Red Keep below. One outsized them all.

The bronze scales of Vermithor shimmered brightly in the sun.

A sob of relief fell from your lips as you watched him, looking up at a dragon you had been separated for months from, not being able to see him or know he was okay. There was agitation in his body as he flew, but otherwise he was safe.

He was safe.

And he knew you were too.

When you had gotten to your chambers, Amala and Joanna were already there, waiting, wringing their hands together in anticipation. And upon seeing you, Amala had gasped, and ran towards you, hands checking your face for wounds, no doubt shocked by the blood.

Daemon turned to the girls, “Fetch her some water for a bath.”

And with that, their fussing and stress stopped, and they sprung into action, running from the chambers. Both girls eyes dragging over your body and the crown atop your head as they exited.

It was weird to be back in them.

The chambers that felt alien to you now.

You stood in the room you had once called your own and breathed, slowly walking over to your old table to place the dagger atop it, finally feeling safe. Finally feeling as though you didn't need the blade any longer. That the last piece of safety Aemond had given to you had served its purpose. And it was then that you breathed, truly breathed. Breathed for the first time since coming to the Red Keep.

It was over.

You stood as you were and watched the maids return, another younger girl in tow, blonde and thin, who bowed and introduced herself quietly to you, ‘Ceryse, Your Grace’, eyes widening at the blood on your skin and hair before she averted her eyes, face having turned ashen.

Daemon and Rhaenyra waited with you as they filled the bath, and as the chamber doors opened once again, you had expected one of the girls to be bringing more water to rinse you with, but instead, you were met with a pair of deep brown eyes.

Jacaerys.

You sucked in a sob as he raced across the chambers, crashing his body into yours as he gripped you tightly. You almost fell backwards from the clashing of your bodies, arms curled under his and up his back, squeezing the leather riding tunic he wore to you tightly.

He smelt of dragon, of musk, and the subtle sulfur of dragon flame. But most of all, he smelt of home.

You half sobbed and half laughed, overjoyed and grieving all at once in his arms. Hands shaking around him as he squeezed you tightly. His chest shaking as he sobbed himself, holding you outwards in his arms as his eyes roamed your body, looking you over.

He was taller, so much taller than he had been, and broader too. His hair was long against his shoulders and curled, pulled behind his ears by braids.

"You're here." He breathed, as though he was even unsure of it. As if seeing you had confirmed that his greatest fear had not come true.

You nodded, hand coming to touch his jaw gently. He grabbed the wrist that held his face tightly, emotion pouring through his eyes as he shook. And in a turn of familiarity that you only knew from Daemon, he rested his forehead against yours and breathed, eyes shut, brown lashes clumped together and wet as he fought the tears that escaped them.

"I'm here." You breathed, "I'm here."

The rest was a blur.

A blur of reunion, a blur of being bathed, the milky water below turning a soft pink, to an earthy copper as the blood was washed from your hair and face. The maids scrubbing your body with a sponge to pull the dried blood from your skin, Rhaenyra not once leaving your side.

One of the maids had to bring her a chair and tell her to sit down as she anxiously stood between you and the door, eyes darting back and forth, the fear of having you taken from her again ripe.

But nothing had happened. No knights entered to take away, no Greens supporters came to call, no Alicent, or Jasper, or anyone. Just you and your mother, who insisted on brushing and braiding your hair, and you had let her, tears cascading down your cheeks as she hummed to you.

A familiar tune.

Something the maids had sang to you a long time ago, but this time, it was the song of the Goddess Meleys, and you had cried even harder.

She had been there all along.

That evening you dined with your family, exhaustion burrowed deep within your bones.

And it was still all a blur, it felt like a dream still. Sat with Rhaenyra, Daemon, Jacaerys, Rhaenys and Baela around the table in the intimate dining hall.

It was almost like it had been before.

Before the war.

As though this was as it was supposed to be.

Almost.

And whilst they celebrated the victory quietly and solemnly, toasting a cup towards you which you lifted your own in response, there was no denying the grief that lingered in the foreground. No denying the grief of the loss of Lucerys and your sister. Their palpable absence. The grief of the war and time lost, of your own child, of Aemond.

Tears escaped your eyes, and you were thankful to be with them, but for the most part, sitting with your family, it felt as though you were watching them all through somebody else’s eyes, as though you were watching from somewhere else, or that you were a puppet from Flea Bottom and somebody, high above in the clouds, was pulling your strings, stretching your cheeks into a smile, nodding your head in agreement, ears listening to tales and comments of relief without truly listening.

It was not a loud and joyous celebration. In fact, it felt more like a funeral, like the one for Laena, like the one for Laenor.

There was no music, there was no dancing, but it was enough.

It was enough to just be with them, to just be in their presence, hear their voices, be able to reach out and touch them if you wanted to. The subtle scents of their own, curling around you in a soft blanket.

You had reached for your goblet at one point during the night, mouth having gone dry at the mention of Aegon, and you had to hold in a scream, eyes finding your hands covered in blood once more. Your eyes had widened in shock, a small inhale ripped into your lungs, and Daemons careful eye from across the room had spotted you.

And though the maids had washed and scrubbed you vigorously, cleaning under your nails with careful hands, even though you knew in your heart that you were clean, it didn't stop your mind from seeing them soaked red with your lovers blood. Covered as they had been that morning.

And he was there.

Watching.

By the corner of the room.

Eye never leaving you.

But you kept a brave face, if only for a while longer, not daring to look where you hands would reach, grasping blinding in front of you, resulting in wine spilt and worried eyes. You had blamed your tired and shaky hands. For how were you to explain that when you looked down upon them you saw the proof of your misdeeds. The proof of your sin. The proof of your betrayal.

Then all too soon, exhaustion creeped over you, and your mother, noticing the shift, escorted you back to your chambers, and readily tucked you into bed, sitting on the side as she looked at you with nothing but love. She brushed your hair from your face, and without a word, climbed into bed beside you. She pulled you to her tightly, and you curled up against her, nestling your head into the crook of her neck to breathe deeply.

And as your eyes were closed, you let yourself pretend that it was him.

Sleep dragged you under, and no dreams haunted you this time, though you felt his presence behind you. And when you woke, still in her arms, her hand was holding your head against her as she breathed, fingers absentmindedly carding through your hair in thought. You shifted, looking up into her lilac eyes which seemed to be shadowed, dark rings on the skin beneath.

She had not slept.

“Did you rest?” You asked, eyes darting across her face as you shifted to sit up in bed.

“I have not slept since the day you left. And now that I have you in my arms again, I am frightened that my eyes shall close, and when they open and you will be gone.”

You swallowed thickly, “I would never leave you.”

Rhaenyra gave you a small smile, though edges pulled down into a frown.

“If it is your wish, I would not keep you here in the Keep. If the memories are-“ She paused, unsure of how to move on, “If it is too much to bear, I would not hold you here. I would not force you to stay.” She whispered, brushing your hair from your face.

You frowned at her, “I am your Hand. I am bound by duty to be at your side.”

Rhaenyra let out the breath she had been holding before she nodded, “Duty be damned, I think you have performed yours and then some, more than I ever would have asked you to." She breathed deeply, "The rest of the council and my men shall arrive today. There will be a trial, to convict those who have plotted against me. Those who aided Aegon in the usurpation of the throne. And those who kept you here.”

You shifted in the sheets as you looked at your mother.

Her soft brows pulled slightly together, the frown lines that seemed to now permanently mar her skin, were present with the movements of her lips, which she pressed together into a thin line, moving to open again.

But you beat her to it, “Then we must be ready.”

And so, you were dressed in a black leather bustier, with large winged shoulders, the neck of the leather coming just below your chin. It was a shorter gown, coming just mid calf, and beneath, you wore black trousers and leather boots that tucked them inside, just below the knee. Across your chest was chains, hooped and long against your bust, each end being the opened mouth of a dragon on either side.

The girls braided your hair back, gentle and soft in their movements, both working together as they used small pins with red jewels at their tip to hold your hair up and off of your neck. And all the while, your eyes did not leave the Conquerors Crown that was placed atop the table, smears of blood on the steel and ruby.

Rhaenyra had already left, to be dressed and readied for court in her old chambers, joined by her husband. But you were rooted on the spot, unable to move as you looked at it, watching as the light from the sun caused the ruby to glimmer.

A blood red.

Blood.

Like the blood that had covered you. Like the blood you had tried to stop at Aemond’s neck. The blood that spilled through your hands and his and soaked the sheets and pillows below. The blood that had soaked you.

You would not dare look at your hands, for you knew what you would see.

You blinked and moved towards it.

But it was your crown.

Yours by right.

And so you lifted it, placing it atop your head, revelling in the weight that it pressed down your neck. The weight that then settled in your chest and gut.

With determined steps, you left the chambers, blade tucked into a holder at your side, dried blood still smeared across its blade and hilt as you walked swiftly down to the throne room to meet your Queen, and meet with the rest of the council and Lords of the realm.

All ready to see and watch the true heir to the Iron Throne be seated where she should have always sat, from the moment Viserys had passed, and for her to cast down her judgement on those who went against her.

Traitors and turncloaks alike.

When you entered the throne room, it was bursting with life, and the floor where Larys had laid was stained with his dried blood, a large smear across the stones from where his body had been dragged and removed.

All eyes were on you, each step echoing in the chambers as the people quietened, and your mother lifted her head.

Your father stood at the foot of the throne, Jacaerys beside him, as you came to stand before her.

Ser Erryk Cargyll announced you to the chambers, presenting your titles to the room, “Hand of the Queen.”

With a bow of your head, foot sliding beneath you, you pressed your knee upon the floor and reached a hand up, grasping the crown from your head as you held it towards her, “Your Grace, I give my crown lands and titles to you, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the true heir to the Iron Throne.” When you stood again, you looked up at your mother who smiled gently at you.

“Princess Y/n, my daughter and first born, you have earnt that crown valiantly, through months of tireless work.” Her voice rose in the chambers, all still as they listened, “You may hold it in your possession, as a reminder of your deeds.” You could feel the eyes of all in the chambers flickering on the back of your head and then to the Queen who sat atop the throne.

“Your acts of bravery have not gone unnoticed, nor has your role in winning this war, and returning the throne and all the realms to me rightfully.” Jacaerys shifted at your fathers side, a small smile pulling at the side of his lips, “And at this time, the succession for the Iron Throne has changed.”

What?

Your breath stopped in your chest, eyes darting to Jacaerys who gave you the slightest tip of his head.

“Let all who stand here bear witness to the naming of my true successor. A successor who had been promised the throne once before.” Her eyes met yours, “Let it be known, that in the eyes of the Realm and before the Old Gods and the New, that my daughter, Princess Y/n Velaryon, is my heir and successor to the Iron Throne. Duty of the Hand of the Queen shall be placed upon Ser Corlys Velaryon.”

Heir.

Successor.

You blinked.

You were her heir.

You were the heir to the Iron Throne.

"But now," the Queen continued, "Is not the time for talks of succession and my rule. Now is the time to bring forth traitors and turncloak's who broke their oath to my father, King Viserys, and to me, the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms."

The sound of men around you shifted as they bowed their head towards you, your face in pure shock as you looked at them.

“Now,” The Queen boomed over the rising whispers in the chambers, “Bring forth the accused.”

You stepped on unsteady feet, unsure and uncertain as you came to stand beneath the throne on the opposite side of your brother and father, both who beamed at you with pride. The Conquerors Crown still in your hands, the cool Valyrian steel pressing into your palm.

But as the doors to the chambers were opened once more by guards, you had snuck a glance at your father, who was already watching you, and gave you a promissory nod. And so with certain hands, you lifted the crown once more, and settled it against your scalp.

Wild auburn hair appeared first, and then a gown of deep green as Alicent Hightower was dragged before the Iron Throne by Gold Cloaks. Each one stood behind her as her hands were locked in chains at her front, eyes flickering from you, to Rhaenyra, and then back to you.

And then you began.

“Lady Alicent Hightower. Dowager Queen of King Viserys. You stand before Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Roynar, and The First men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. You are bought here to be charged with crimes against the Crown. You are accused of treason.” Your voice carried through the chambers, the chains on Alicent’s wrists knocking against each other as she picked at her hands, fingers raw and bloody.

“You are charged with conspiring against the Crown to usurp the throne with Prince Aegon Targaryen and Ser Otto Hightower. You are charged with the conspiracy to cause harm to a Princess of the realm, and her wrongful imprisonment.”

“Rhaenyra, see reason. I beg you. Your father-“ Alicent began to plead.

“-My father,” Rhaenyra’s voice boomed, “Is dead. And you kept that hidden from the people for days, and rushed to crown Aegon as King in the Sept before the realm. You usurped the throne from its rightful heir and King Viserys’ successor, whom your House swore fealty to. Do you deny your charges?”

“I beg mercy! I only did as I believed was right. Viserys told me before he passed that he wished Aegon to sit the thr-”

“-You will have chance to make your own petition, Lady Alicent. Do Queen Rhaenyra the curtesy of letting the charges to be heard.” You held your head high, mimicking the same words she had said to your mother, a long time ago, “If the Lady Alicent Hightower speaks out of turn once more, cut out her tongue.” You watched as her face ashened, and her brows pulled together in desperation.

“You supplanted the Iron Throne’s rightful heir.” Rhaenyra growled, “You sent Aemond to slay my son, Prince Lucerys, the heir to Driftmark, who was an envoy in Storms End. And you have kept the Princess, my heir to the Iron Throne prisoner in this Keep under the hands of your rabid sons.”

“Please, Rhaenyra.” Alicent begged, “Am I to pay for the crimes of the wants of a father on his daughter? For the crimes of my sons? We were close, you and I. Friends!”

Daemon snickered beside the throne as he watched the Hightower woman beg.

Rhaenyra straightened, “What good is a friend who plots and grooms her sons into usurping the throne from its rightful heir? Their half-sister? From her supposed friend? These crimes are treason. And there are witnesses. A Maester who was slain here. Maids who had watched. Gold Cloaks, and servants, and Lords alike witnessed your crimes, Lady Alicent. Do you deny these charges?”

A tear fell from Alicent’s eyes as she sucked in a shuttering breath.

She stayed silent.

Rhaenyra looked at the woman from down her nose before speaking once more, delivering her conviction.

“For your crimes against the Crown, against my blood, and against the people of the realm, you are found guilty. I, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, and the Roynar, and The First men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, sentence you to death by dragon fire.”

Alicent’s face morphed into horror, “No! Rhaenyra, please! I beg mercy! We are but women who had our hands forced by the men around us!” She cried into the chambers as she was dragged out by the Gold Cloaks, “What choice did I have?! Imprison me, Rhaenyra, I beg this of you!”

Alicent Hightower’s voice faded down the halls and walls she was dragged down, pleading for mercy, begging to the Seven for help. But the Seven did not hear to her prayers, for the Stranger was already on their way to take her.

Maester Orwyle was next, and the man stood silently as his charges were given to him. He did not speak, nor did he rebuke them, or plead for mercy. Instead, his dark brown eyes stared into your mothers with nothing more than disgust and pure hatred, until he was pulled away, the same way he came, back to the holding cells of the Dungeons you had once spent your days in, with his verdict.

Guilty.

It was this way until the whole of the Green Council and turncloaks was laid before your mother, each one individually brought before the Queen, had their accusations of treason laid. Some were given the option to bend the knee to Rhaenyra and serve her in exchange for their lives, others were not.

None, bar Lord Jasper Wylde, bent the knee.

And all, bar the Master of Laws, was sentenced to death.

The chamber of the Iron Throne was ripe with energy. Nervous, excited energy from Rhaenyra’s supporters as they watched on as they delivered the sentences to those who had betrayed or turned cloak against her.

And then, the court was dismissed, and the Lords and her supporters were led outside of the Keep, to the mouth of Blackwater Rush, where a flat grassy knoll lay before the cliffs, and a worn path for traders was trodden upon.

It was there where Lady Alicent Hightower was led, beside her Maester Orwyle, Ser Tyland Lannister, and the turncloaks, Lord Bourney, Butterwell, Mootey and Rosby stood in a line.

The oceans breeze ruffled the cloaks and hair of all those in attendance, and Rhaenyra was the last one present. The final person to arrive.

Above you, the large and excitable screech of a dragon who would finally be reunited with its rider.

Alicent looked up the skies in fear, her hands clutched tightly together in prayer as she shut her eyes, mumbling to the Seven, begging for mercy, and guidance, and promises of good servitude if they grant her her life.

But dragons did not answer to the Gods.

Nor were they inclined to show mercy.

And so you watched, in delight and anticipation, as the large bronze dragon landed against the grass beside you, purring into the air with his large scarred snout, mouth full of jagged teeth opening, and eyes dancing over you.

All watched as you reached out to touch him, the dragon rumbling deep in his chest as he leant into your hand. The bond sent sparks through your fingers and arms as you leant a forehead against him, breathing in his dragon smell, sulfur and smoke, and the distinct almost reptilian stench that they all carried.

But your true reunion would have to wait, for the Queen and realm were waiting on you.

It was only right that you delivered the blow of justice.

As heir.

As now stand in Hand before Corlys.

In fact, your mother and father had been most insistent upon it, if only you wanted to.

And the Gods knew that you did.

The crowd of people shuffled backwards as Vermithor’s long tail beat against the ground forcefully, vibrating the earth beneath.

Alicent Hightower jumped in her spot, knuckles white as she stared at you in fear.

“You are guilty and have been charged of treason-”

“-I am innocent. I beg mercy, please. Rhaenyra, see reason!” Alicent cried out into the soft ocean breeze, her words lost to the crashing swell. Rhaenyra blinked impassively at the woman.

“Reason?” You parroted, “Mercy?”

“Please, it was the ambitions of a father onto his child. I had no play-“

“No play? None?” You sneered.

There was that rage again.

“I beg mercy. I will work in-“

“-Where was your mercy for the Queen when you usurped her throne?” You stiffened, Vermithor behind you growling, sensing your anger through the bond.

“Where was your mercy for her sons? For Lucerys?”

“I was not at-“

The Bronze Fury shifted behind you, head coming to loom forward in the space beside, teeth bared as he growled at the woman who dropped to her knees in fear, legs giving out beneath her.

"Where was your mercy when you locked me in a cell? Where was your mercy when you let him rape me? Defile me.” You took a step forward towards her, “Hurt me.”

Another step, and ice spread through your chest, “Where was your mercy when the King broke into my chambers?” You spoke dully this time, but inside you was the fire that you had hidden. Trampled by your own hands and feet in order to keep on, to keep moving.

To survive.

Vermithor lifted his head into the sky and cried out shrilly, all around him flinching from the sudden movement. His large jaws opened, and a plume of fire shot into the air, the heat falling down around you hotly.

You looked down at the woman who started it all.

Her children.

The usurp of your mother.

The war.

Lucerys.

Syndor.

Visenya.

All of it.

“You are found guilty of treason, for the usurpation of the Iron Throne from its rightful heir. You are guilty of crimes to the Princess; Daughter and heir of the Queen. You are guilty of hiding the death of King Viserys from the people and Lords to conspire with turncloaks and oathbreakers. And you have been sentenced to death.”

You stared into the eyes of the woman before you, tears cascading down her cheeks as she looked up at you and pleaded, begged for her life, begged for mercy.

Prayed.

Her hair was messed, her robes were crinkled and green, and as you looked at the woman you felt a surge of rage.

“Dracarys.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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daenysthedreamer101 · 1 month

Text

Daughter of Steel and Bronze ~ HOTD

Ch 4 - Blood of the Dragon

HOTD x Targaryen!OC, eventual Targaryen!OC x Harwin Strong

Warnings: none, it's actually a really cute chapter imo, there's like one swear word

Masterlist

"Nobody truly knows what happened when young Daena entered the cave of the Bronze Fury. We can only speculate as to what happened. What we do know is that in the early hours of the next day, the local smallfolk of Dragonstone heard a deafening roar and witnessed the great bronze beast flying alongside the shore. On his back was the little Princess. It is said she flew over the entire Gullet and some say Vermithor's song was heard as far south as Massey's Hook.

Her absence was only noticed when one of the maids tasked with waking her up realized the Princess was missing from her room. The entire castle was in an uproar. Daemon was furious and swore he would mount the head of every man who failed to find her. To his relief, she was found on one of the cliffs near the castle, and next to her was the dragon of the Old King. She was petting and kissing him like he was a giant cat and to everyone's surprise, the dragon seemed to enjoy it. She would forever be known as Daena the Audacious."

(Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros, by Archmaester Gyldayn)

107 AC, Dragonstone

Daemon was woken up by someone obnoxiously banging on his door. "WHAT?" He yelled, annoyed. A young maid came in quickly, the one that was assigned to Daena.

"M-my Prince..." She stuttered, terrified of further angering the Rogue Prince.

"Spit it out, woman! What happened?" He yelled.

"P-Princess Daena...she's g-gone. She's not in her b-bed chambers..." She managed to say.

"WHAT!? WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S GONE!?" Daemon jumped out of bed, dismissed the girl, and quickly got dressed. He walked out into the hallway and started barking out orders.

"If you don't find her, I'll mount all of your fucking heads on a spike! Do you understand me!? " He yelled, furious.

The entire castle was on its feet, trying to find the missing princess. Every guard, every maid, every single servant was looking for her. "Where could she have possibly gone?" Daemon murmured as he gripped the pommel of his Valyrian steel sword Dark Sister, his anger rising by the second.

He was currently in her bed chambers, looking to see if there were any signs of a fight or if she was forcibly taken. Nothing like that was found. Besides a messy bed, everything was fine...except the riding suit she came in and her boots.

"She must have slipped out during the night, unnoticed." Maester Gerardys said. Daemon sighed and pinched his nose. Then, high above the castle, a thunderous roar could be heard.

"My Prince! It's the Princess! She...she's with Vermithor!" A guard informed Daemon, who was sprinting down the castle toward the main gate. This news stopped Daemon in his tracks.

"What did you just say?" Daemon asked, not believing his ears.

"She..she flew on Vermithor." The guard repeated. Daemon laughed, not caring for what anyone might say.

"My brave little girl..." He said with the biggest smile on his face. He then ran outside of the castle. What he saw next would become one of his favorite memories ever.

Daena's POV

Daena has never felt happier. She was flying on the back of the second-largest dragon in the world. After singing him the lullaby her father always sang to her, she experienced something she only ever dreamed of - she bonded with a dragon. And not just any dragon - Vermithor the Bronze Fury was now her mount and she his rider. They flew over the entire Gullet and if Daena was correct, even flew over the island of Driftmark. She didn't have time to fasten the belts on the saddle so she was holding on for dear life. At one point a flock of seagulls almost hit her in the face, had she not ducked down.

She didn't know how to feel, or what to think. Her heart was full of joy and pride, for she had finally become a dragon rider, just like her father. Excitement was flowing through her veins, her dragon blood singing with happiness. It was cold and windy, but she felt nothing but the warmth that radiated off of Vermithor. She held tightly to the handles in front of her. All she could see was the sea beneath her and the stars above her. This is what freedom feels like, she thought as they flew even higher above the clouds.

Once the sun began to rise, she thought it was about time to head back. Vermithor complied with her wishes and headed back for Dragonstone. In what felt like no time, she could see the outlines of the island. Vermithor circled the island one more time and with a mighty roar landed on one of the cliffs near the castle. From atop Vermithor, she could see many people running toward her: guards, dragon keepers, and...her father. She sighed and climbed down the ropes. Once her feet hit the ground she was met with the stern lilac eyes of her father.

"Skoros lo ao morghūltan? Ao dovodedha riña...Ao drējī issi ñuha tala." (What if you died? You silly girl...you truly are my daughter) He said with the biggest smile Daena had ever seen.

"Are you upset with me?" Daena asked carefully.

"What? No! I...I am so proud of you, my love. I have never been prouder!" He told her sincerely and hugged her tightly. Daena could feel that he was being honest.

Daemon has never been prouder in his life. He has never been happier, besides the day Daena was born. His little girl claimed Vermithor, the Bronze Fury. He felt like the proudest father in the world! But he knew what Daena did wasn't right and it needed reprimanding. In the privacy of Daena's room, he sat her down on her bed. He looked at her and saw the biggest smile on her face.

"My sweet girl, what you did was brave...and foolish." He started and saw the smile disappear from her face.

"I want you to know that I'm proud of you and you have proved to everyone the strength of Targaryen blood, but you shouldn't have gone out alone. You could've been killed! What would I do then, hmmm?" He continued and she looked down, embarrassed.

"What would I do without my favorite girl? You're my everything, you know that? I would pluck the stars from the sky if it meant you were happy. But you mustn't be so reckless, do you understand?" He asked as he lifted her chin with his finger. She nodded, refusing to look at him.

"Jurnegon rȳ nyke." (Look at me.) He told her. She looked up at him with glossy eyes. Her lip trembled and tears spilled down her cheeks.

"Iksan vaoreznuni Kepa. Nyke ȳdra daor gīmigon skoros māstan toliot nyke." (I am sorry Father. I don't know what came over me.) She said quietly. He wiped the tears from her face.

"Don't cry, sweet girl. I do want you to be happy but I also want you to be safe. No more running around without my permission. Understood?" He asked again. She nodded and sniffled.

"Now. You will go and take a bath and then we can have breakfast together. How does that sound?" He asked softly.

"It sounds wonderful. Thank you, Father." She replied with a smile.

After taking a bath and dressing in a simple silk dress in a pretty shade of dark red, her hair was braided by one of the maids. She was escorted to her father's personal bed chambers. There he was, looking out of the window while holding Dark Sister in his hands.

"Father." She calls, and he turns. He smiles at her and tells her to sit down. She does and they start eating. He asked her about how she got into the caves and how she bonded with Vermithor. She answered all his questions to the best of her abilities. Once they were done with the food, Daemon beckoned her over.

"I'll have to teach you how to control him, how to talk to him, how to fly." He says to her as he caresses her cheek. She smiles.

"I would love that. Thank you, Father, for being so understanding", and with that, she left to further explore her ancestral home.

Daena walked around the castle with no particular goal in mind. She walked through the meandering halls and came upon a great stone door. She carefully pushed the door and the sight in front of her took her breath away.

"The throne room..." she whispered to herself as her eyes fell upon the magnificent throne that was cut into a giant slab of stone. She slowly walked across the room. The room was bathed in the faint light of the late morning. No one else was present and the only thing that could be heard were the slow footsteps of the princess.

"Would it be treason to sit on the throne?" Daena thought as she eyed the throne. She approached the throne, standing on the staircase that led to it. "It looks more comfortable than the Iron Throne, that's for certain" she mused. She was about to touch it, but at the last second, she pulled her hand away.

Instead, she turned her head left and saw an archway leading to another room. She followed it and came upon a room with a beautiful balcony and sea view. There were dragon carvings on the wall, a table, and some chairs in the middle of the room. She leaned her elbows against the balcony and looked at the waves below. "I could live here..." she thought as a light breeze kissed her skin.

---

High Valyrian:

Skoros lo ao morghūltan? - What if you died?

Ao dovodedha riña...Ao drējī issi ñuha tala - You silly girl...you truly are my daughter

Jurnegon rȳ nyke. - Look at me.

Iksan vaoreznuni Kepa. - I am sorry Father.

Nyke ȳdra daor gīmigon skoros māstan toliot nyke. - I don't know what came over me.

***

Little Daena is finally a dragon rider! Daemon is ofc, the proudest dad in the whole of Westeros. Next chapter we'll see how the other characters react to the news.

Hope you liked it, and thanks for reading! ❤❤❤

If you have any opinions feel free to comment!

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crownrots · 2 days

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NINA (twc) | DORY (tcmg) | HATTIE (fo) | ERAESELLA (hotd)

tagged by @rhettsabbott & @loriane-elmuerto to use this picrew, thank you xoxo

─── tagging

@queennymeria @risingsh0t @thedeadthree @shellibisshe @simonxriley

@mercymaker @pavus @jacobseed @carlosoliveiraa @shadowglens

@lucky-107 @countessrooster @arthrmorgann @orindusc

#t: picrews #c: nina #c: dory #c: hattie #c: eraesella

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lemonhemlock · 1 year

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Hey! 👋 I don’t know if you have TikTok, but I do and whenever a HOTD vid comes on my FYP, I always see all these comments blaming Otto for the Dance. It is so annoying. I won’t deny that Otto played a big part in it, but it wasn’t his fault. People blame Otto, Rhaenyra, Alicent, and Aemond for the Dance, but I never see anyone blame the dude whose fault it actually was: ‼️VISERYS‼️The Dance is a direct consequence of his action, or rather his inaction.

1. Naming Rhaenyra heir. He apparently does this because Daemon was a bad heir and he felt guilty about killing Aemma. But in the books, when Aemma dies, he is 28 years old. Pretty young, even for medieval times. He knew he’d most likely have to remarry. He knew that the chance of having a son with his new wife was high. So why not just put up with Daemon’s bullshit for a couple years until he has a son? Aegon is born in 107 AC, literally two years after Aemma dies. If he hadn’t named her heir, the Dance wouldn’t have happened.

2. Not doing anything else. So he names Rhaenyra heir and does nothing else. He broke years of tradition and then just sat on his ass. He didn’t try to make a new law or anything. In my opinion, he should have codified the idea that the firstborn would inherit regardless of gender. I think it would have been much easier to make it a widespread thing instead of making Rhaenyra the exception. By the time he died, no one would have batted an eye at her ascending the throne and Viserys would actually be the ✨feminist king✨ Team Black thinks he is.

3. Remarrying. So, he’s a 28 year old widower when he names Rhaenyra heir. He knows people will probably be hounding him to remarry. He knows that if he remarries, he might have a son with his second wife. He knows that if he has a son with his second wife, people will think that this son is the legitimate heir to the Iron Throne. So just don’t remarry. Then Rhaenyra, as his only child, would be the only option to take the throne.

4. Not marrying them to each other. I hate to argue for incest, but they were Targs lol. After Alicent gave him 3 kids and he saw how shit was going down, he should have married Rhaenyra and Aegon. There is a 10 year age difference in the books, and it was said that they disliked each other, but that would still be preferable to a war that killed thousands.

The fact that he caused the Dance is just one of the many reasons I hate him. Anyways sorry for the rant 😌

Hi, Reina! I do have TikTok and I enjoy using it, but it's not a fandom account and I mainly use it like a normal person to collect recipes, hacks, short makeup reviews and funny animal content. I haven't been on in a couple of months though since I've been spending more time here. I am a bit wary that I'm going to get a lot of HOTD/ASOIAF clips with annoying takes.

I basically agree with all your points lol. :))

The fact that he remarried SO quickly and impregnated his new wife is so strange. That can't NOT be deliberate, I mean??? It's not like he had lost all hope of producing another son. It's so illogical. This kind of thing never would have happened IRL - Henry I only named Matilda his heir after her brother died and only until he managed to get himself a son, but that never happened and Matilda quite logically remained his only option. I think we're supposed to believe it's an emotional reaction in-universe, but, yes, it would have been much more measured to just give Alicent a chance to birth a son lol.

So, see, this is where I don't really know what he could have done to keep Rhaenyra as heir in the context of her having brothers, because this never would have been a conversation in 12th Century England. And I'm not a medievalist, so I have limited knowledge on how enforceable this supposed edict of Viserys' could have been. Medieval law adoption and enforcement is a mess and I'm not qualified to speak on it with any degree of authority, other than to point out that 'feudalism' (a term many historians take issue with anyway), in its very simplified form, implies a struggle for power between king and vassals. If this new law proved to be unpopular and the lords refused to carry it out, what would happen then? Is a law really a law if you cannot enforce it or is it just words written on a piece of paper? What exactly are the conditions via which some arbitrary rule stops being a theoretical concept and becomes an actual law? (I'm sure scholars of law and philosophy could have a field day debating these questions). All of this, should, of course be integrated in the kind of political system Westeros seems to be: the King only disposes of the Crownlands + Dragonstone* as his own personal fiefdom - militarily and resource-wise it doesn't seem to be much - and probably relies on levies collected and surrendered by vassals. The Lords Paramount are very powerful, dispose of military might and wealth, and can pose a lot of problems if they decide to rebel. As others have already pointed out, Westeros is not an absolute monarchy, however much people like to throw around that term. The Lords disagreeing with this huge change in the political and social landscape should be a very serious problem. As I keep pointing out, the historical inspiration King Henry I had his nobles swear oaths for Matilda twice, once in 1127 and once in 1131 (he died in 1135) and that still wasn't enough. I think that if the solution were as simple as "just pass a law lol", Henry would have implemented it. But it took until Queen Mary I for England to have a ruling female monarch - so nearly 400 years later.

I think the re-marrying can be explained away as Viserys needing a few extra heirs beside Rhaenyra, in case something happened to either him or his daughter. Which I can accept, but you can't eat your cake and have it, too, here. You gotta pick one: either stick with Rhaenyra and make her produce more heirs OR remarry and produce more heirs yourself. Not both.

So, yeah, people should blame Viserys for this mess, but they don't want to because Paddy gave a stellar performance that pulled at their heartstrings, so now he's father of the year and a peaceful king.

*How much wealth Dragonstone generates would actually be an interesting, if separate, discussion. Stannis doesn't seem to have a lot in the main series and feels very slighted because Robert chose to give Storm's End to Renly instead - the Stormlands appear to be the richer kingdom here. However, if I remember correctly, the worldbook states that the Targaryens became quite wealthy on Dragonstone when they moved there due to trade?

Dragonstone had been the westernmost outpost of Valyrian power for two centuries. Its location athwart the Gullet gave its lords a stranglehold on Blackwater Bay, and enabled both the Targaryens and their close allies, the Velaryons of Driftmark (a lesser house of Valyrian descent), to fill their coffers off the passing trade. Velaryon ships, along with those of another allied Valyrian house, the Celtigars of Claw Isle, dominated the middle reaches of the narrow sea, whilst the Targaryens ruled the skies with their dragons.

#ask #lareina219 #succession for the iron throne #the anarchy tm #inheritance rights

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thesilverlady · 11 months

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those book Alicent/Viserys headcanons were cool! Honestly, I liked the idea of them in the book but because of their portrayal in the show you now can't day a single positive thing about them without getting yelled at.

I'm kinda confused about one thing though and that's the ages. I know hotd had Alicent being 15 and Viserys 30/40 when they got married but what were their ages in the book? How old was Viserys when he married Aemma/Alicent or when he became a king etc?

I've tried looking at the wiki page but I can only get a clear answer for the time of his death.

Thank you in advance!

i feel you anon, the show deserves jail time for giving so many characters and pairs a bad rep.

As for the ages, i can sympathize with how messy f&b can be when it comes to dates, ages and events. I've attempted to make a timeline when it comes to ages so here's what I have on Viserys (keep in mind, I may have missed some)

77 AC: Viserys is born

81 AC: 4 year old Viserys officially gains a sibling when Daemon is born.

93 AC: 16 year old Viserys claims balerion and weds 11 year old Aemma. They wait 2 years to consumate their marriage.

94 AC: Balerion the Black Dread dies. Viserys was 17 when he lost him.

97 AC: Rhaenyra is born. Viserys is 20 and Aemma 15 at the time

101 AC: Viserys becomes heir at the age of 24 and Otto becomes hand of the King Jaehaerys (bringing his wife and children at court with him)

103 AC: Jaehaerys dies at the age of 69 (15 year old Alicent had become his constant companion prior to his death). 26 year old Viserys becomes a King

105 AC: Aemma dies in labor at the age of 23. Viserys who is 28 at the time banishes Daemon and declares Rhaenyra as his heir and Princess of Dragonstone.

106 AC: Viserys weds Alicent Hightower. Alicent is 18, Viserys is 29

107 AC: 19 year old Alicent gives birth to Aegon. Viserys is 30 at the time

109 AC: 21 year old Alicent gives birth to Helaena. Viserys is 32 at the time

110 AC: 22 year old Alicent gives birth to Aemond. Viserys is 33 at the time.

114 AC: 37 year old Viserys blackmails 17 year old Rhaenyra to get married to Laenor, which she does in this year. 26 year old Alicent gives birth to Daeron

i think the rest are easier to follow. As long as you remember the ages from one specific event, you can keep adding as the timeline processes.

#viserys i targaryen #alicent hightower #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #alicent x viserys #timeline #ask reply #THIS IS BASED IN F&B NOT HOTD

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emynarnen · 3 months

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Rhaenyra's bed beach hair

#rhaenyra targaryen #hotd #hotdedit #house of the dragon #hotd 107 #hotd s1 #hair #mine #100 #200

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classsictrash · 2 years

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Aemond said 2 fast 2 furious

#house of the dragon #HOTD #HOTD 107

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gameofthronesdaily · 13 days

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HOUSE OF THE DRAGON 1.01 "The Heirs of the Dragon" || 1.07 "Driftmark"

#hotdedit #hotd #dailyhotdgifs #welighttheway #targaryensource #house of the dragon #alicent hightower #viserys targaryen #h s1 #h 101 #h 107 #g #by tanya

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girlwithsword · 1 year

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I posted 3,644 times in 2022

111 posts created (3%)

3,533 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@amc-iwtv

@goodnight-socialiite

@slaygentford

@takemetosynagogue

@carzinization

I tagged 3,121 of my posts in 2022

Only 14% of my posts had no tags

#iwtv - 788 posts

#d20 - 196 posts

#hotd - 173 posts

#ofmd - 134 posts

#starstruck - 107 posts

#queer stuff - 91 posts

#terrible vampire family <3 - 84 posts

#iwtv cast - 81 posts

#iwtv meta - 78 posts

#btvs - 66 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#do you think. do you think he loves her enough grace needs a lot of love do you thi nk he'll give her everything he's got inside of himself!

My Top Posts in 2022:

Jacob: I love Louis but he is an unbearable snob and a hypocrite

Sam: Lestat has never done anything wrong, ever, in his life 🥰

174 notes - Posted November 2, 2022

okay so something that was already kinda obvious in episode 2 and made explicit in episode 3 is that //everybody knows//, not the vampire thing but the gay thing (but also this show is pretty up front that in so many ways it’s The Same Thing so) but Louis has just enough prestige and influence that no one says it to his face which is just ahhhhhhh intersections of queerness and class and race and having just enough privilege to get away with being who you are but not enough to stop the stares and whispers and all the little ways that tears you down

174 notes - Posted October 11, 2022

so I’m doing a reread and I really wonder what scene they’re gonna start with, if it’s gonna be a flashback or the flight to England or June and Alex reading tabloids or they’ll cut right to The Wedding… so many possibilities!

193 notes - Posted June 23, 2022

this super hardened Serious Journalist is gonna spend his last few good years mediating the world’s messiest gay divorce so grateful for his sacrifice

272 notes - Posted October 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

oookay so what’s insane about the song isn’t that Lestat re-recorded it, I can definitely see him doing that as a gift for Louis in the two years between being voted back into the family and being semi-murdered, what’s INSANE is that Louis kept it over decades and BETWEEN MEDIUMS!!! it was recorded on 1940s vinyl and we heard it played from an IPAD!! How many transfers did it go through just so Louis could keep his voice!!!???

635 notes - Posted November 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #Oh wow the last two months really. Really changed things huh #I started watching this fucking vampire show in OCTOBER

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princesssszzzz · 1 year

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Cool cosplayer I found she did so good re-making Rhaena’s outfit

#love seeing cosplay #house of the dragon #cuddle full #house targaryen #hotd #asoiaf #the dance of dragons #fire and blood #rhaena targaryen #cosplay #hotd season 1

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daenysthedreamer101 · 2 months

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Daughter of Steel and Bronze ~ HOTD

Ch 1 - To King's Landing

Targaryen!OC x Harwin Strong (eventually lol)

Warnings: none

Prologue

Masterlist

"In 107 AC, the King held a seven-day celebration in honor of Princess Rhaenyra's tenth name day. The young Princess was named 'the Realm's Delight' by the minstrels at court. Rhaenyra was a precocious child, bright, bold and beautiful. She became a dragon rider at only seven years old, riding her yellow she-dragon, Syrax. The tourney would also mark the return of Prince Daemon to King's Landing. He spent most of his time away in the Vale, with his lady wife, Rhea Royce, and their young daughter, Princess Daena.

Princess Daena was a lively, cheerful girl only a year younger than her cousin, Rhaenyra. She became a proficient huntress in thanks to her lady mother. Some at court frowned, saying it was inappropriate for a lady to hunt down animals and cover herself in dirt and blood, but Rhea and Daemon paid them no mind, letting their daughter do what she liked. 'She's not just a lady...she's a Princess of House Targaryen. Dragons don't fear blood' Prince Daemon was heard saying in defense of his daughter."

(Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros, by Archmaester Gyldayn)

107 AC, King's Landing

This was Daena's second time visiting King's Landing. Well third, if you count the time her parents brought her when she was a baby so that her great-grandparents, King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne could meet their newest great-granddaughter. It was said the Good Queen wept tears of joy when she held Daena in her hands for the first time. The Queen was old and frail, having to walk with a cane. Nonetheless, the Queen gave her blessing and proclaimed that Daena would be a great beauty one day.

Now, Daena and her father, Prince Daemon, were visiting King's Landing once again. This time because of her cousin Rhaenyra. Her uncle, King Viserys I, was holding a great tourney in honor of Rhaenyra's 10th name day. Even after 14 years of marriage, Viserys and his wife, Queen Aemma Arryn, only had one living child - Rhaenyra. The King was known for spoiling his only child with many things, and "seven days of celebration for her name day seemed only appropriate", according to His Grace.

Daena spent much of her childhood at Runestone. She was taught how to ride a horse and hunt with a bow and arrow by her lady mother, Rhea Royce. Her mother was a strong, intelligent woman and was the ruling Lady of Runestone. Daena was very proud to be her daughter and always strived to make her mother proud. Daena didn't look much like her mother. She looked more like her father's side of the family. With fair skin, long silver hair, and lilac eyes, she looked nothing short of a true Targaryen Princess. Nonetheless, she knew she had many other things in common with her dear mother.

Her mother didn't join them. She said she needed to look after Runestone, that it was her duty. But even as a child, Daena knew it was because her mother never liked her father and she simply didn't want to spend time with him. It made Daena sad, that her parents disliked each other, but they tried to be cordial with one another for her sake. She once asked her parents if she would ever get a sibling. Her mother choked on her wine while her father frowned and told her not to be silly and ask stupid questions. She never asked again.

"Are we there yet?" Daena asked Amanda, one of her mother's nieces who went South with them. Lady Amanda was from the cadet branch of House Royce - House Royce of the Gates of the Moon. Amanda was a pretty maid of 16 summers. Nearly a woman grown, Lady Rhea sent her young niece to King's Landing to look after her daughter and also for a potential marriage.

Amanda had long dark brown hair and round brown eyes. Daena liked her very much. She was fun and kind and taught Daena how to sew. "We'll be there in a short while, Princess," Amanda answered while looking out from the small carriage window.

Daena didn't like that she was in a carriage. She wanted to fly with her father on Caraxes but he refused her, saying she was too young. So, she would travel by carriage. She looked out the window and saw a giant castle made of red stone.

"The Red Keep..." Daena whispered under her breath. She has never seen King's Landing. She did visit in 101 AC, when her great-grandfather, Jaehaerys passed away. But she didn't remember much from that whole ordeal. She only remembered that everyone was sad and quiet.

Daena was 9 years old and slightly taller than most girls her age. She was thin and slender and had long silver hair she liked to keep in a single long braid. Father said it made her look like Queen Visenya. Daena would love nothing more than to be like the legendary Visenya.

"Do you think Rhaenyra will let me see Syrax?" Daena quietly asked Amanda. She would never admit it, but she was a bit jealous that Rhaenyra had a dragon. Daena's dark purple egg never hatched. She still had it, it was held back at Runestone, but she didn't like looking at it.

It made her sad and angry. Some kids back at Runestone would mock her and call her Daena the Dragonless. The words of her mother's House were 'We remember' and in keeping with that, she never forgot or forgave the people who mocked her. She hoped that since she was in King's Landing, she could claim an already hatched dragon.

"I'm not sure...Perhaps a bit later." Amanda said cautiously. She knew how important dragons were to the Targaryens and it hurt her to see Daena so sad.

"Open the gates!" A guard shouted. They were already there. They were about to enter the Red Keep! Daena sat up straight and smoothed her red and black silk dress. Her silver hair was braided at the top to look like a crown. Small ruby earrings dangled like blood droplets from her ears. The gates were opened and the carriage entered the courtyard.

The doors of the carriage opened and Daena could see her father dismounting his horse. A page boy helped her get out. Once her feet hit the ground, a guard announced them.

"Prince Daemon Targaryen and his daughter, Princess Daena!" Her father beckoned her over and so she quickly walked over to him. He put his arm around her little shoulders.

"Prince Daemon...Welcome..."A voice said. She finally focused on the person standing in front of the castle doors. It was Ser Otto Hightower - the Hand of the King.

"Princess..." He greeted her as well, though he sounded and looked like he didn't want to be there. She didn't curtsy to the lord, she didn't have to as a Princess. She felt her father protectively pulling her closer to him.

"Ser Otto...", her father managed to say through gritted teeth. Even as a child, she could tell the two men heavily disliked each other.

"Amanda, take Daena inside. Visit the Queen if you can. I'm sure Her Grace would like that" Daemon told Amanda. The young Royce girl nodded and took Daena's hand and they walked inside. Once they reached the Queen's chambers, they entered the spacious room.

"Princess Daena, Your Grace", a maid announced Daena. The Queen was heavily pregnant and was sitting on a chaise lounge in front of a big window and was propped up by lots of pillows. Her silver hair was down and fell freely. She wore only a nightdress and a pretty, pink, embroidered silk robe. The Queen turned her head and smiled lightly at her young niece.

"Daena, my dear...How you've grown. I haven't seen you in ages." Aemma said softly as she looked over Daena. The young princess curtsied to Aemma. The Queen beckoned her and gave her a warm hug.

"Your Grace," Daena said politely.

"Come, sit here." Aemma gestured to a nearby chair. Daena sat. Aemma looked over Daena's shoulder and saw a pretty brunette in the corner. Daena noticed.

"Your Grace, this is Lady Amanda Royce of the Gates of the Moon. She's my cousin. She came here with me, I hope you don't mind." Daena introduces Amanda to the Queen.

"No, not at all. It's a pleasure to meet you, my lady" Aemma greets the Royce girl.

"The pleasure is mine, Your Grace. Thank you for having me" Amanda says and bows to Aemma. The Queen and Daena talk for a while, about the Vale, about Runestone, and how much Daena has grown.

"If I may ask...where is my dear cousin Rhaenyra? I haven't seen her yet." Daena asks after a while. Aemma sighs and fans herself with a fan.

"I believe she's having her lesson with Septa Marlow" Aemma explained. Daena hums in acknowledgment.

"Princess Rhaenyra", a maid announces after a while. In came Daena's older cousin. She was fair-skinned with pretty purple eyes. She was a bit shorter than Daena, but they both had long silver hair.

"Cousin! It's been so long!" Rhaenyra greeted Daena with a warm smile and a tight hug.

"Nyra!" Daena exclaimed in joy. Rhaenyra greeted her mother and they talked for a few minutes.

"Come, dear cousin. Let's go for a walk." Rhaenyra suggests and takes Daena by the hand.

"Your Grace, I hope you have a nice day." Daena bid the Queen politely. Aemma smiled sadly at the two girls.

Daena and Rhaenyra were walking in the Royal Gardens in the afternoon sun. They sat under the weirwood and talked for hours. In the distance Ser Harrold Westerling, Rhaenyra's sworn shield, was keeping guard. At sundown, Amanda came around and told them they were summoned for supper with the King.

"Will you show me Syrax one day?" Daena asks.

"Of course, I would love to, " Rhaenyra answers.

"We can even fly together once she gets big enough" Nyra adds.

Once they were ready, Ser Harrold escorted them to the dining chamber where they were to have supper. As they entered, Daena could see her uncle, the King, sitting at the head of the table. To his right was his wife, Queen Aemma, who looked tired. To his left was her father, Prince Daemon. To Aemma's right was Princess Rhaenys and her husband, Lord Corlys Velaryon - the Sea Snake. Daena was surprised to see them there. Shaking her head, she sat next to her father. Nyra sat next to her.

"Girls, we've been waiting for you for some time," King Viserys says lightly scolding the girls.

"Forgive us, father. We were talking and we got distracted." Nyra says sheepishly. Viserys smiles and looks over to his niece.

"Ah, Daena...I haven't seen you since you were a toddler. How you've grown..." Viserys says to Daena. She smiled awkwardly and the food was served. The adults talked amongst themselves. Daena and Rhaenyra quietly traded gossip with one other. Daena tried her best not to look at the Sea Snake and his wife. Rhaenys was her aunt, but she always found the woman kind of scary, though she would never admit it.

After supper, Daena bid her cousin goodbye and left with her father to their chambers.

"I'll see you in the morning Nyra" Daena says and hugs Nyra. She and her father enter her chambers.

"Wow..." Daena gasps as she sees her room. Her chambers back at Runestone weren't nearly as big.

"I already told the maids to fix you up a bath," Daemon says to her. He walks over to her and pets her head, caressing her silver hair. She hugs his waist and looks up at him with tired eyes. He smiles at her.

"Issi ao ēdrugī, riñītsos?" (Are you tired, little girl?) He asks her. She nods her head.

"Come here..." He says and picks her up easily and puts her down on the bed. He starts unbraiding her hair. He knew most men wouldn't even consider doing something like this. He didn't think he had it in him to be like this. So soft, and gentle...and caring. But the second he held her when she was born...he knew he would do anything for her. He would burn the entire world if it meant she was safe and sound.

Once he was done unbraiding her hair, he turned her head toward him. He studied her face. She looked just like him. Silver hair, lilac eyes, it was all him. But she had her mother's oval face. He didn't like his wife, whatsoever. But she helped him create Daena. His precious Princess. His little girl. His little dragon.

"I'll call Amanda. She'll help you bathe." He told her and got up to leave. Before he was able to leave, she caught him and pulled him by the sleeve of his shirt. He bent down to her level.

"What is it, sweet girl?" He asked her.

"Sȳz bantis kepa. Avy jorrāelan" (Good night Father. I love you) she told him sleepily and planted a kiss on his cheek. He smiled once again and kissed her silver hair.

"Avy jorrāelan tolī, dōna riña" (I love you too, sweet girl). He told her and left her chamber.

---

High Valyrian:

Issi ao ēdrugī, riñītsos? - Are you tired, little girl?

Sȳz bantis Kepa. Avy jorrāelan - Good night Father. I love you.

Avy jorrāelan tolī, dōna riña - I love you too, sweet girl.

***

Omg, the first chapter is finally here! It's mostly an introduction to Daena and it establishes many relationships that will develop/deteriorate over time.

Hope you liked it, and thanks for reading! ❤❤❤

If you have any opinions feel free to comment!

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