He's first and only love part 3 (final)
Pairing : Daemon x chubby Fem readerAbstract: What will happen to the living? Who will win? Daemon and Y/n will manage to have a happy ending?
Trigger Warning: English is not my mother tongue, mention of: death, description of a corpse, scene of fights.
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It was the singing of birds that awakened Y/n, she had not realized that she had fallen asleep. His mind was misty, as if lost in the thickest fog.
Opening her eyes, she saw that she was not in Winterfell, the rays of the sun lit the place. Y/n looked around her, discovering a large room, with stone walls and an oak floor. Two large windows let in the light, an extinguished chimney took a considerable place on the wall in front of it. Moving to get up, Y/n noticed that she was in deep red sheets. When you removed them, you could see that you were not dressed, the way she was remembered. She was wearing a black night dress with gold embroidery.
Strangely this place seemed both familiar and foreign. A part of her told herself that she should not be afraid, while on the other hand, her heart began to beat quickly, adrenaline in her veins, circulating quickly. Y/n moved the roof to put his feet on the ground. Said ground was cold, despite the sun radiating on it.
Y/n began to walk around the room which seemed to be a bedroom in the end by the arrangement of the room and its furniture. Y/n walked to the window. She could see a landscape she thought she had only seen in her dreams. No building reminded him of the architecture of the cities of Essos. Essos, Westeros… Daenerys! Y/n looked more frantically through the window and around her, some recent memories returning to his mind.
Suddenly, a wink of clinch made her stop, the door opened slowly to reveal a man with silver hair. It was him.
“You are awake, Issa jorrāelagon”
"Who are you?"
“You know who I am, just as I know who you are.”
The man walked slowly into the room. The door closed behind him.
“I dreamt of you…” Y/n remembered him. “In this cave… But how? Where are we?”
“The last place we were, before that dog separated us.”
Y/n didn’t understand what the man was talking about. She had a sharp pain in her head, as if her memory wanted to remind her of past events. Y/n pushed her hands against her temples, gnashing her teeth. She thought she heard screams… Wrestling noises… Her voice. Y/n had a flash, a scene lived, she was in this same room, standing in front of the large mirror, putting on a long tunic. His vision was fogged up and another flash arrived, an unknown man was in the room… The panic had just devoured her, she saw herself defending herself, screaming for help… Screaming a name… only one. Y/n saw herself stabbed and lost her blood. She was told the same name one last time.
“Daemon…”
This pain in the head faded slowly, a deep sadness invaded him, how was it possible? When she opened her eyes, she could see that the man with the silver hair had come closer to her.
“I should never have let them take your life so easily.”
“How come… His memories are not mine…”
“They are, jorrāelagon, just another life, but you are by my side, you have felt my call. I will never let them take you.”
Daemon put his right hand on the young woman’s cheek. She felt the cold emanating from his hand, which made her shudder.
“Nothing is stopping me now.”
In front of her, Y/n saw the walls change shape, the Targaryen prince, had the color of his skin change, turning blue, his purplish eyes became a supernatural blue.
Little horns that seemed to be a mixture of flesh and ice formed on the top of his head, his silver hair turning to a snow white.
Daemon showed him what he had become, whispering to him not to be afraid of him, his lips were moving and in his voice she heard a small noise, like ice. If that voice was gloomy, part of it wasn’t afraid.
Y/n felt even more alive, a part of her was found. She knew the night king wouldn’t hurt her. No. Never. This look of an ice blue, seemed almost sweet to her, it was Daemon’s words that made her understand that she was finally where she should be
"My queen."
---
At Winterfell, the atmosphere was not at the meeting, the night persisted, the crops were no longer growing and dying for lack of sun and the bitter cold, fortunately the fort had food to hold a siege of several months. But if the night did not leave room for the day, famine was assured and their chances of escaping were very slim.
All were on their guard, they no longer slept normally, their internal clock being biased by the perpetual night. Paranoia grew, although Y/N joined the army of the dead, it had not moved away from the ramparts. Everyone forgot that in the south, another war was waiting for them if Cersei did not decide to join them as an ally, if they did not survive in the north, then the south was lost.
The sound of a crow echoed outside Winterfell, this sound seemed almost herald of good news, as the bird came from the south.
A maester picked up the raven, taking the message he was carrying to Jon Snow. The king of the north was in the great hall of the castle of Winterfell, Daenerys seated in front of him raised his head towards the maester.
“A raven from the south has just arrived my king.”
Jon advanced in the direction of the maester, took the message and read it. He shrunk when reading the message.
“Cersei has made the decision to withdraw his armed forces to King’s Landing. We will have no reinforcements.”
Jon ragged parchment, desperate for such news. It meant two things, either she thought they were all dead and she was preparing King’s Landing for the Walker army or she was preparing to finish any survivors. Without allies and not knowing the enemy’s positions, Jon tried to keep morale, he watched Daenerys. They still had two dragons, Melisandre had arrived shortly before receiving the message from the south. They always had a chance to win even if they were thin.
---
Tormund stood on the fort’s ramparts when a faint, frightening noise echoed in the silence of the night. This sound sounded like the croaking of a great raven, staring at the darkness, watching for the slightest movement that might trigger this battle, which seemed to them all to be inevitable. The croa stopped for a few seconds, before a bigger croak echoes, a form breaks away from the darkness, rushing straight at it. A large raven flew towards Winterfell. He passed a few centimeters from the face of Tormund, spanking him.
The bird circled around the inner courtyard of the fort, making frightful noises. In a few moments the bird was shot by an archer posted on the ramparts. The bird touched the wing and fell heavily on the ground, but continued to croak. A servant approached and saw that the bird was partially dislodged, one eye had gone out of its orbit and the other was hanging blue. The raven was finished with a dragonglass blade. A parchment was found at the level of what was his legs. The servant took the message and went towards the great hall. A message from the dead was something no one thought possible.
---
Daenerys read the parchment several times. Y/n seemed to be alive, she was both relieved but at the same time most worried. How long was she gonna be alive?
In the parchment, Y/n asked the Targaryen to flee Westeros while this was still possible. She begged him to go to Essos and take with her as many people as possible. The attack was imminent and his king would have no mercy.
Daenerys was ranting while reading her friend’s words, she was loyal and never would she have chosen to take a stand for the dead. She was his queen. Hers! Jon tried to bring reason to Daenerys, that was their chance to negotiate. But his queen refused. Daenerys began to write on another piece of parchment frantically. With a quick step, she went in the direction of the aviary, ordering a servant to send her message by raven in the direction of the north. The servant was hesitant, but Daenerys’s tone of voice made him understand that he would not have the right to refuse. The raven flew only about ten seconds. His cry died in the darkness, a hundred metres from the ramparts. The guards shivered. The dead were much closer than they thought.
---
Three long horns echoed in the night. The Dothraki, in the saddle, were the first defences of the city, followed by unsullied. Mélisande using an incantation lit up the blades of the warriors, illuminating the future battlefield.
No one really had time to understand what was happening to them. Darkness surrounded them, horses were put on the ground while warriors were put down. One after the other, they fell. The few survivors who were the furthest away fled towards the fort, horses without their riders turned back, while several warriors fled running for their survival.
Grey Worm, at the head of the unsullied saw the Dothraki return, cries of terror ran through them. He ordered his troops to stand in a defensive position, throwing by hand. The darkness was moving in their directions, carrying such cold air, that what he had experienced at Winterfell made him think of a sunny day. The first bone grunts echoed. Thinking one last time of Missandei who was in the catacombs of the fort, near the women and children. He tightened his spear. Ready to fight.
---
Fighting raged outside the fort, both armies had suffered losses, but it was not enough to stop the dead.
Grey Worm, surrounded by his soldiers, defended the ramparts, but with each death two others came to replace him, like a hydra. He could hear knights and warriors from the north screaming for help, others dying, or some asking for help from the gods or their mothers. His heart was beating so fast that he could have come out of his chest, never had they been prepared for such a battle. From the dead, some bodies were in very bad conditions, these were the easiest to beat. But the children were the most deceitful and quick. He had lost several friends to his enemies.
Round by round, flames of a red effervescent fall from the sky towards the darkness. Jon on the back of Rhaegon came to the aid. Daenerys on Drogon burned the other side of the ramparts. The army of the dead surrounded the fort. But their helpers were able to give respite to the warriors on the ground.
Rhaegon howled, some warriors raised their eyes in his direction. The dragon had flames coming out of its side, it screamed twice before collapsing on the ground two meters from the great gate of the fort. The dead and the living who did not have time to escape were soiled by the dragon’s corpse. A spear had been thrown from the darkness, leaving Rhaegon no chance.
Daenerys landing on Drogon’s back, seen are second «son» dying before his eyes. Drogon howled and prepared to rise. A tremor made Daenerys aware of the events, a grunt made her look to her left. The claws of hind legs ran down on her and Drogon. He no longer defended himself. Viseryon caught Drogon, tired him of his claws. Drogon was struggling, trying to bite Viseryon, flapping his wings to make a contrary grow. It was with a severe laceration on his left thigh that he managed to free himself, failing to make his mother fall in the action.
Drogon flew into the sky, trying to get past the clouds. Taking advantage of this moment, Daemon rode Viseryon melted on the fort, burning blue flames, all in its path. Part of the eastern ramparts had just fallen into the blast. Daemon knew that his greatest ally was darkness. He could see what was going on. He could see where Drogon was.
On earth, the fighting continued. Under the breath of Viseryon, part of the archès and warrior posting on the ramparts had died blowing by the infernal heat of the blue fire. The explosion of the wall threw many warriors, Arya who was in the compound of the fort seen men die before his eyes. Some dying from burns, which had not vaporized them.
She was trying to focus on her mission. Helping her family survive the attack. Killing most walker present. So we can get revenge on Cersei. A new roar made her look in the sky, Viseryon was flying towards the fort, she started running, trying to avoid the new flame attack.
The power of the explosion of the northern ramparts threw Arya into the air. In the meantime, she lost consciousness.
---
In the air, the fight was not the easiest for Daenerys. She had fought only weapons on the ground, the airs that they thought were her element, were much more dangerous. Daemon having fought more than once on Caraxes and having fought Vhaegar, knew several techniques to bring down and shoot down a dragon and its dragon tree. He thought that this would happen easily, it was without counting on the deceit of Drogon, who to save his mother was ready for anything. Until he rushes with all his weight against his opponent, destabilizing Daemon, forcing Rhaegon to spit on the ground.
The night king unleashed Rhaegon, moving to avoid being crushed by the undead dragon. He looked around him, several weapons of walkers and living lay on the ground. Crackles made him turn, he saw Jon brandishing Longclaw there, so he had survived, he found in this young Snow a good opponent, he owed him that.
"Dracarys!"
Daenerys had just ordered Drogon. Orange red flames coming out of the dragon’s gaping mouth, igniting all around the Night King.
Jon and Daenerys feel relief when they see the fire devouring everything in its path. All? No, a dark form was beginning to appear in the heart of the flames. The night king was still there, he slowly raised his smiling head. Jon and Daenerys as well as the few fighters who had lost sight of the scene had their hopes fallen. The dragons killed everything in their passages. Fire should have triumphed over ice.
Jon in a final burst of suicidal courage, raised his sword with two hands, running towards Daemon. But he was stopped in his stride. Daemon raised his arms slowly, spanking the dead who had not succumbed to the flames. They began to look at the living, waiting. The door leading to the catacombs fell, spanking several warriors, women and children fled the place, in front of them stood Sansa and Missandei holding daggers, behind the group stood Tyrion a sword in hand, at his side was a ten-year-old boy, also wielding a sword. The group fled towards the survivors, the dead in the catacombs had awakened and followed them as they walked.
Did any of them know what to do, attack or flee? Would he have the chance?
Bran’s voice echoed in what remained of Winterfell, Théon helped him to move from the sacred woods.
"We must flee! This is our only chance!"
Little by little the survivors began to regroup, the army of the dead let them pass. Jon seeing them flee hesitated, if he did not kill the Night King, they would have died, if it were not today that would be the next day. Bran yelled at Jon, insisting that retirement was the best solution.
"How can I believe he won’t attack us in the back?"
“She’s connected to the Night King, he won’t attack us. I saw her.”
Jon had learned not to question Bran’s gifts, but he remained puzzled, seeing the number of wounded dead, Daenerys clinging to Drogon who was wounded, Sansa reunited with Arya who was wounded, the cries of the children. Jon understood that he had to listen to his brother. And so he did.
---
The march of the living lasted a little more than a month, many of the wounded too seriously had died en route, they were not abandoned each being placed on a funeral pyre. But they finally reached the level of King’s Landing, the last great city before Dorne, not to fall.
Cersei, seeing the eternal night advance, realized that the north had not stood. Worried for her own safety, she had considered fleeing Westeros, but her pride made her stop her project, her and Jaime’s return which miraculously (or more informally, with the help of Lady Brienne) had survived. His brother had managed to enter the city, fortunately he knew the said city very well and a good part of its passages. Jaime tried to persuade her to help the people coming from the north.
"Cersei, for all the love I have for you, I beg you at least let the women and children take refuge in the city."
"To end up stabbed in the back?"
"If you do not help us we all die!"
Jaime was angry with her sister, how could she be so selfish in the face of the misery that lay before her?
Heavy clouds crossed the sky, covering the sky for several minutes. Cersei looked through the large windows.
“It’s too late.”
---
The children and babies were crying in the sore arms of their mothers, Tyrion was talking to several commanders of the army of Cersei, he had met several of them during the battle against Stannis, he was trying to persuade them to bring in all the people who couldn’t fight. For long hours Tyrion argued that the north would have agreed to protect their wives and children by their honours.
The cold became more and more biting, away from the group of survivors, Bran was installed in a makeshift wagon. Théon looked after him, and Sansa. For more than two weeks he had been trying to get back in touch with Y/n. But at every attempt, Daemon was there standing by his side. It had become dangerous for him to contact her but he still tried.
Jon was looking away at his brother, the events of his last years had been most complicated and cruel and fate seemed to be picking on them more and more. Arya was standing by his side, she had been injured during the capture of Winterfell, but had recovered. They were all on guard, the war was not over. Not without the defeat of the Night King.
That’s not counting Daemon’s plans.
A violent gust of wind carried large quantities of snow, a heavy rumble was heard. People living in King’s Landing get out of their home, looking up, wondering what was going on.
A blue fire crossed the sky, the mothers took their children in their arms, the men in front of their wives and/or children, others gathered. Suddenly, the ground trembled, a big boom appeared! Everyone began to panic. Smoke rose in the air, from the northern walls of the city. All fled, trying to take refuge in their homes or businesses. Outside the walls, warriors escorted the women and children back into the city through the ruins of the walls.
Daenerys tried to persuade Drogon to steal, but he refused. Prefer to stay back, observe his brothers stolen in the sky, which did not prevent him from spitting fire on any walker who came too close to his mother. Sir Jorah and Missandei stood by their side, ready to protect each other.
In the distance, anyone outside the city could see the army clearly for the first time. Hordes of living death would run from the darkness. Giants walked, horses rode the most powerful walkers, live bears, the vision of spiders made them shudder. They were the size of a large dog (German doge type).
The final battle had just begun.
---
Y/n surrounded by Daemon’s army watched the scene in front of her. Théon took Bran and Sansa to the city, knights protecting them at the cost of their lives. Mélisande, who was still alive, ignited any allied weapons passing near her. Knights of Cersei would flee the battlefield leaving the northern warriors, Dothraki and unsullied still alive, fighting, accompanied by the rare knights in the colors of the Lannister brave enough to fight.
Y/n walked slowly towards the city. She could hear the cries of Drogon, looking towards him, she saw Daenerys, Jorah and Missandei being surrounded. A pinch came to her heart. She was so sorry for her friends, but she knew Daemon’s plans and all this had to happen.
The further Y/n went, the more the smells became foul. It was a smell of burning, charred flesh, dust, metal and blood, in large quantities. The snow fell and began to cover the ground, hiding in places pieces of bodies torn off or cut off from their bodies. The snow took on red colors, and charcoal depending on where it fell.
The walkers did not spank her, protecting her even when swords or spears approached her too close.
She looked one last time towards her queen, murmuring.
“I am so sorry.”
---
The city was in ruins. Houses collapsed, blue flames crossed the city. The grunts of Vysereon and Rhaegon Came from the Red Keep, the blue flames had just started to ravage the castle.
Around her, women holding their children and babies in their arms tried to protect them, while the dead approached them. Having no mercy at all.
Y/n seen in the distance Tormund, Brienne and Jon trying to kill the dead around them, Potrick stood a little further, he and Gendry fighting together the horde of death.
It was with a heavy heart that she saw all her horror scenes, a deep feeling of sadness overwhelmed her. But she kept moving, Daemon wanted her to be at the Red Keep when he won.
The towers of the castle had collapsed, the roofs were burning. Y/n had just stopped in front of the collapsed doors of the castle. Sighing, she began to enter, flashes came to her in memory. She knew her places, each corridor seemed familiar to her, instead of the lion symbols she saw symbols of a trisepal dragon, instead of the servants trying to escape she saw other people, more serene. Instinctively, she knew which hallway to take, which staircase to climb.
Vyserion’s heavy grunting made her understand that she was close to Daemon.
Passing the shaky doors of the throne room. She saw that the upper part no longer existed. Blocks of stone were laid on the ground, the pillars had shattered on their tops, and the flow of glass ran through much of the room.
Daemon was in front of the throne where Cersei was sitting, Jaime was in front of her, his sword in her left hand. Viseryon ignited a gigantic man, which startled him, a moan from Cersei’s mouth as Jaime tried to stand in front of her to protect her.
Walker’s «leaders» began to move towards the throne, Jaime did not let himself be fooled. One of the walkers grabbed Jaime by the pass and projected him into the room freeing the passage for Daemon towards Cersei.
Y/n had approached Daemon, one meter from the throne markets.
Daemon advanced, pulling his sword out of his scabbard, Vyserion had gone back, helping Rhaegon to ravage the city.
A noise made Y/n listen, the rubble seemed to have moved, a slight gust of wind put her even more on guard.
In a few seconds, Arya appeared behind Daemon, who turned to catch him, Arya dropped his dagger ready to recover it with his other hand. But couldn’t do it.
A blade pierced Arya’s head, piercing her eye. The tip of the blade in the direction of Daemon. He released the young felle to see his sweet Y/n splatter with blood. Breathing rampaged. His hands trembled. The king wanted to approach her but was restrained by the noise of Cersei trying to escape. The «leaders» walker the restraint, preventing him from fleeing the destiny that Daemon had chosen for him.
---
In a few hours, Cersei was thrown from the ruins of the castle, Jaime was also brought to this fateful fate. The few fighters were less and less noisy. The boats that had left the sea were chased by Rhaegon.
Daemon looked Y/n before turning towards the iron throne.
Its under the cries of the last survivors, the collapsed houses still standing. Let Daemon sit slowly on the throne, savoring every moment of this moment. The war of the succession of the seven crowns had killed many of the descendants of his enemies. His vengeance was slow and calculated.
Daemon raised his hand in the direction of his queen inviting him to approach him. Y/n climbed the few steps separating her from her king.
Daemon made her sit on one of his legs, a hand resting on the hips of his beloved.
In front of them, King’s Landing was on fire, from the strangest blue coming from a dragon, snow falling in fine powder on the ruins of the castle as well as in the throne room. Daemon had everything he needed. There was no need to transform her queen so that she could live by her side, on her equal, ruling over the dead. Forever.
Translation:
My love / Issa jorrāelagon
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My rough draft, add some ideas or thoughts but I really want a version of them living in Daryls long house in the deep woods , he has a long table and she makes bread and they eat the kill he made the night before, dogs and pups eating under the table very much like BRAVE, a babe on her breast
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Velaryon and Targaryen house were the two most well known houses of old Valeria , there ice white hair and pale eyes somewhere between a blue or purple, there was another house, Greene, the Lord Hersheal had three children, a step son and two blood children.
Shawn was a child from his second wife's marriage, while he cared for the boy he never felt that bond he felt with his daughters, Shawn was always his step son, never his.
Maggie was his oldest daughter and she was conceived with his first wife Joanna Barathian, she had the striking tallness and dark green eyes and dark brown locks of her kin and Maggie looked exactly like her, she kept her hair short unlike Beth..
Beth was conceived of his second wife, Anette Targaryen
pale skinned and gold hair and eyes like blue glass, she was every bit as dainty as a dove and kept her long pale hair long enough to strangle a man
Beth was a pure Targaryen, with both of her parents having Targaryen blood, of old Valeria, she had skin like milk and hair like white gold,
and the same shade of beach glass blue as her mother, she was dainty and small boned with a lovely countenance, her beauty was said to bewitch you.
(Except her hair tends to curl up in the summer heat , where's most Targaryen's were straight like spider silk , hers curled up into ringlets unless she used a hot iron and flatten it. Her mother would say it was the Velaryon blood, their side had curly white hair, some of them were darn near kinky)
Her family didn't live near the ocean in Castles like her kin , instead they lived in fields , in the farming lands in a large house, the dragons slept out in the grass and among the trees but as adults they were too big to hide in the woods , the back of their spins would peak up over the tree tops, the barbs of their spin shone like the tip of a spear head.
Shawn was killed in Battle, by someone it's not important, Beth's mother died of a broken heart, mourning her dead son while Beth was 13.
Maggie was too caught up in a man she met, some boy with slanted eyes and black inky hair and skin pale like her sister, but eyes black brown. He was from the place across the ocean, where only dragons had flown , few ships could venture out because of the rocks and Dangerous waters , your only safe travels was on the back of a dragon, except Glenn Rhee was a expert boatman and could steer any boat no matter the waters. He came to ask for the hand of Margaret Greene, she was 22 and never wed because of her hot tempor , she had Barathian anger and many men preferred her not to speak, which she disagreed.
Glenn gladly took her, knowing she would be the head of the house hold.
That left a young Beth, 12 going on 13 , her father was old and he wanted his only daughter to be wed to a good man before he passed,
He was already a old man when he married and bed his second wife, Anette, who was a woman of 22
*****
Daryl was a wildling, some say he had Strong blood , that somewhere an ancestor took a wildling or a child of the forest as a wife and the product were feral untamed children , with dark wild hair and piercing blue eyes, he was ever bit intimidating as a wild wolf stalking the forest,
His oldest brother Merle was similar to a bear, half the time he was angry and liable to kill you for breathing, they both were experienced hunts man, there wasn't a animal that they couldn't hunt and skin, there wasn't a plant or animal footprint they couldn't identify, they could see clearly in the dead of night which made them a terrible foe to anyone lost in the woods.
He had a dark brown wolf named Dog, he had him since he was a pup he rescued off a hunter who would illegally kill wolf's for sport.
That man is buried somewhere only Daryl and Merle know the exact location of.
Deep in the forest...
He saw her playing with butterflies in the grassy field as he was hunting rabbits, he saw a beautiful Targaryen princess, he knew right away what she was as clearly as he could identify the screech of a owl or the size of a deer based off of the hoof prints alone ,
She was so white she glowed in the sun, her skin and hair had a ethereal glow to it. Like spider silk and sunbeams mixed up together,
There was a dragon the size of a horse, he could tell it was a teenager, she would grow up to be as big as Cannibal, or Vhagar if she lived that long , the shade of pearls , with pink red eyes..
The princess pet the dragon and called her Nelly, who purred.
suddenly the princess turned around, she must have heard him crunch the leaves, he usually was so careful where he tread but something about her made him anxious, uneasy.
She was too beautiful, too unearthly
Beth gasp, the most handsome beautiful man and beast was standing there at the woods edges, a man dressed in dark leather and a fur hoodie, a crossbow in his arms , he hand long dark messy hair and wild wolf like eyes, blue and serious, intense.
God she wanted him, more then anything she felt before.
The wolf beside him ran forward, bounding for her , she heard the man yell out " DOG! NO HEAL!!"
Daryl feared for his animal, dragons were protective of their owners they considered family and a dragon could easily snatch up a fire wolf and kill it easily, but this one was obviously skittish and whined , jumped back, flapping it's glossy white wings,
Luckily Dog was friendly and only ran forward to receive pets, the princess happily gave them,
Daryl sighed
(my hopes is Daryl stays on as a helping hand and he watches Beth grow up, they form a bond and when she's of legal age he asks for her hand , having little Beth as a young girl asking him questions and being obviously enamored with this new stranger would be cute, like a little girl with a crush and Daryls too obvious to notice, he still thinks she's sweet but she talks a lot)
I know I said Anette was 22 when she married Hersh and Maggie was 15 from what I remember, so yea I know the age gap is close but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
She's still a step mom just a young one , And this is a different era , He needed a wife and Anette was more than happy to
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