#Rhea never hunted him

[randomnameless]

i like thinking that "byleth" was a name sitri chose, and jeralt couldn't bring himself to change it while on the run from the monastery, even though he knew rhea would recognize the name. can you tell I'm trying really hard to find something positive about jeralt? tbh the more i think about him the less i like the guy. like lmao what a douche

He, uh...

Well...

seems to take care of his horse!

I like you idea anon, Sitri picked the name to honour her not!mom, and Jerry didn't change it to honour his dead!wife, even if he knows it links Billy to Rhea, who is BaD.

His affection for Sitri trumps, in this case, his "Rhea BaD" feelings.

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (4/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: fingering & oral sex, a kind of triangle, smut, the angst, description of the effects of murder, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

The boy's death had devastated her.

Even though it was a strange child to her, in addition from a family she despised, it was still small and innocent – she had seen Prince Jaehaerys accompanied by servants escorting him to his morning classes when she herself had gone out to meet his uncle, to practice on Vhagar the commands as she did every day.

Knowing that her father had done this made her feel a partial sense of guilt for what had happened, though she did not understand why.

Was it because she was born of his poisoned seed?

That a part of him lived inside her?

She knew it was revenge for Lucerys' death, but after all, the little prince had nothing to do with it.

The death of an innocent being always hurt the most.

She watched his funeral procession from outside the windows of the Red Keep, from her prison that was her small chamber, thinking of her one-eyed cousin.

Were you with that fucking old whore whose tits you like to cuddle up to?

With your second mummy?

She didn't know why his lowered head, his face and big eye filled with tears of shame made her feel sympathy towards him.

However, the death of King's son made her reflect on her own life and what she had experienced in it.

She realised that she had lived for years as if in lethargy, spending her time riding horses and hunting, even though in the midst of her family, in fact always remaining alone.

She realised that she had never even kissed a man.

She had never experienced a touch that was tender, that was pleasurable, that made her feel safe.

She bit her lower lip, pacing around her room, suddenly getting an idea that was extremely dangerous.

Her cousin was interested in women – this she knew for sure – and after being humiliated by his brother in front of everyone gathered he would certainly not return to the brothel to his lover, whoever she was.

From what she understood, this woman was older than him, giving him fulfilment not only physically, but also purely childlike.

She knew he was weak, but now she also had the certainty that he was miserable.

She couldn't try to seduce him directly, offer to spend the night in his bed – he would send her away immediately, furious, knowing what she wanted to do and how she hoped to achieve it.

She had to show him what he could have, while at the same time not offering it to him herself.

She had to make him desire whatever she was in his mind.

"I want to ask you something, cousin." She muttered, standing over him with a jug of wine, wondering what she was doing. "And I know you won't like it."

She saw him freeze, looking ahead.

"You like to take risks, don't you?" He sneered, taking a deep sip of wine from his goblet without even bestowing a single glance on her.

His vision was hazy, his mind dulled by the wine.

He was weak, vulnerable, heartbroken by what had happened to his nephew, sunk in guilt.

This was her chance.

"No, but you give me no choice. I will fly with you and the will of the gods will happen, as you desire. However, the chance of me dying in flames or being devoured is just as great as the chance of me succeeding." She said uncertainly, and he sighed heavily, impatient, setting his cup down on the table.

"What do you want?"

She licked her lower lip, feeling her heart pounding like mad in her chest, cold sweat trickling down her back.

He would fall into a fury or fuck her, there was no other option left.

"Servant. I want to choose one and take him to my bed. I don't want to die without having any idea of this sensations." She muttered.

She saw that he froze motionless, his healthy eye open wide in shock.

Oh gods.

"Aren't you ashamed to ask something like that out loud? What self-respecting Lord will want you after this?" He asked coldly, annoyed, however it was not as aggressive a response as she had expected.

He himself didn't know what he thought of it, she thought.

Good.

"I don't care what the lords will think of me. If I become a dragon rider, my maidenhood will be the least of their worries. I have no desire to become either a wife or a mother. I could try to hide it from you, but I stand here before you and ask your permission like a dog." She said with a certainty that surprised her, recognising that her directness was due to the fact that she was partly telling the truth.

He was silent for a long time, his lips pressed together in a thin line, his finger in some involuntary reflex began to tap against the table top.

"Knowing what you ask, my soul will have no peace unless I am assured that no man has taken you by force."

There it is.

"I'll let you watch if it will soothe your conscience." She said without stammering, his grin turned towards her making her feel an uncomfortable shiver.

"It will."

Finding a willing person turned out not to be too difficult: she simply lied to the man she found handsome that the prince liked to look at such things and that it was his idea.

What could he do to her for those words even if he found out about it?

Were they not partly true?

Her whole body quivered in excitement and disbelief as, lying beneath Tyland Lannister's servant, she heard his lazy footsteps, felt his gaze on them, the fiery, thirsty lips of her lover pressed against hers.

It was a surprisingly wet and slick experience, not as pleasurable as she had imagined, however, it was not all that bad.

She swallowed hard, hearing her cousin sit down in a chair in the distance, and flinched when the man's hand suddenly clamped down on her breast, causing an unpleasant chill to pass through her.

"– no –" She whispered, tightening her hand on his wrist. "– not yet –"

She exhaled quietly, closing her eyes as she felt him take his hand away, trailing it instead around her waist, trying to feel what she had felt when her cousin had leaned over her face after she had fainted.

Serve me well and I will reward you.

When the time comes.

She felt it, that wonderful pulsing between her thighs, and sighed, opening her eyelids, involuntarily glancing at him. Her breath froze in her throat, her womanhood swelled all over as she met his gaze, dark and hot, his legs crossed, his head cocked in curiosity.

She gasped, feeling a squeeze in her throat and a cold shudder when the boy's body suddenly pressed her against the bed, constricting her space, making her fingers tighten on the back of his tunic in terror.

Is this how it should be?

Should she be so afraid, feel so cornered?

"– slow down –" She heard his voice, deep and displeased – her lover looked at him, surprised, panting heavily.

"– Your Highness? –"

"– slow down, I said –" He repeated with a kind of threat in his voice from which her lips parted in disbelief, some sense of gratitude and warmth spread through her heart, a pleasant stickiness sweeping from between her thighs down her buttocks.

He was protecting her, she thought, feeling the situation begin to slip out of her control.

This was exactly what she wanted.

Make me feel safe, she thought pleadingly, but no words left her lips.

Shame overwhelmed her.

"– sink your fingers between her thighs – prepare her properly –" He instructed the boy, her eyes grew big as she stared at him in disbelief – his nostrils twitched in excited breath, the corner of his mouth lifted in a dangerous smirk.

A sigh left her throat as the servant lifted her skirt and smallclothes, her gaze fixed on her cousin's face as his hand found her leaking, fleshy womanhood.

She moaned.

However, after a moment she flinched and swallowed hard, closing her eyes as she felt his fingers touch a very tender, sensitive spot, giving her pleasure and pain at the same time, not knowing what she herself felt, tears burning under her eyelids.

Why did it feel like this?

Why couldn't she enjoy it, why was she losing focus?

"– step back, boy –" She heard his voice, and then noticed that he moved towards them, startling her and him – she rose up on her elbows, panting heavily as he pulled her forward, sitting behind her back, pulling her close, his legs on either side of her body.

His arms embraced her lightly, his hand tilting her head back, allowing her to spread out comfortably while not taking away her sense of security.

She swallowed hard, feeling something long and hard pulsate behind her, pressing against her buttocks.

Good gods.

She gasped as she felt him press his nose against her hot cheek, his thumb running over her jaw as his free hand forced her to bend her legs at the knees, exposing her bare thighs.

"– bend over and lick her –" He commanded, running his full lips over the skin of her face, making her feel a simultaneous shudder of pleasure and terror shake her, his hand trailing down the exposed skin of her thigh.

Lick her?

What did he mean by that?

What purpose did it serve?

"– what? –" She mumbled, terrified, involuntarily reaching back with her hand, clamping it over his long white hair, wanting to pull away, hitting his hard body again.

She had nowhere to run.

"– easy – let me take care of this –" He whispered in her ear, making her moan stuck in her throat, her nipples became hard at his words, her throbbing walls clenching around nothing.

Let me take care of this.

He knew.

He knew what she craved.

She stifled a breath as the man obediently leaned between her thighs, a terrified, pathetic, surprised moan escaping her throat when she felt something warm and sticky slip between her tight, swollen slit.

His tongue.

She clenched her hand harder in his white hair, feeling her cousin's hand slide down her leg, to the very spot her lover had touched earlier – this time, however, she didn't feel the unpleasant pain as his fingertips merely circled around her oversensitive little bud, causing her to leak, stimulated from the inside and outside.

"– ah – oh, gods, t-too much, too much –" She mewled in despair as she tried to pull away from him, never having experienced a similar sensation before, he, however, held her in an iron grip, his free hand sliding from her face under the material of her gown, to her breasts.

"– you wanted it yourself – go on –" He said matter-of-factly in a way that sent a shiver through her – she tilted her head back, feeling the servant's tongue accelerate, forcing its way again and again deep inside her hot, throbbing cunt.

In some subconscious, involuntary reflex, she sought refuge, not knowing what to do with the waves of tickling pleasure and tension that were rising in her body, so she turned her face towards him and he leaned in, letting their foreheads touch.

For some reason she wanted to cry.

He was so close.

The gentle touch of his hand between her thighs, his thumb teasing lazily her hard nipple, his hot breath on her face, his embrace was too familiar, too safe.

"– if only you were my little sister – I'd caress you like this every night – would you like it? –" He breathed out encouragingly, and she shuddered all over in his arms, feeling her lover's tongue hit the sweet spot inside her again and again, her and her cousin's hips beginning to rub against each other, his manhood unashamedly hard and swollen.

If only you were my little sister.

I want this, she thought.

I want to be what you want me to be.

"– what would your father say at the sight of this – hm? – do you think he would be proud? –" He whispered, sinking his fingers into the throbbing folds of her moist womanhood, weeping with desire, teasing with lazy, slow circles her little bud.

She felt tears under her eyelids as she shook her head.

She didn't know.

She didn't know what her father would say to this sight.

He wasn't there for her.

He hadn't protected her.

"– you like it, don't you? – I can feel you're close – come on his face –" He exhaled and she shook her head, moaning from exertion, feeling something approaching, the tingling tension between her thighs unbearable, her breath heavy and hitched, droplets of sweat running down her skin.

"– g-gods, stop –" She mumbled out with difficulty, feeling that she couldn't take it any longer, and then she was shaken by a pleasure foreign and overpowering, hot and sweet, flowing in waves through her whole body, her lips, her nipples, her fingertips, her silken walls clenching around nothing.

For a moment she heard or saw nothing, heard his soothing whisper, his warm breath enveloping her face, his hands closed over her womanhood and over her breasts just continued to press against her skin, allowing her to calm down.

"You may leave. If you tell anyone about this, I will cut your tongue out." She heard his cold voice, but knew it wasn't meant for her – the man lying between her thighs had risen and simply stepped off the bed, leaving them alone, and she sighed loudly, as if she had just accomplished some extraordinary, demanding feat.

She didn't know why she had sought refuge in his embrace, why she had turned in his arms and snuggled into his body, burying her face in his neck, why she had felt nothing but peace as one of his hands lay on her back while the other slowly stroked her hair.

One by one tears ran down her cheeks, shame, relief and sadness spilling over her heart, making her only able to lie down and breathe. She closed her eyes, concentrating on his scent, the warmth of his body that pulsed almost imperceptibly, his manhood pushing against her stomach, his hands trailing gently over her body.

She thought that he was certainly proud of himself, but she decided that it didn't matter.

She needed his arms, she needed to hide, to disappear, to melt into him as one, not to think, not to feel, not to exist.

She fell asleep.

When she awoke, it was late afternoon – there was no one in the chamber but her, however, she knew it was not a dream.

Her bedding was soaked with his scent.

She wasn't sure who had benefited from what had happened. She decided, however, surprised by this discovery, that she did not regret it and did not intend to think about it again.

It had never happened.

As he had ordered, she was already ready before dawn, waiting for him in the courtyard in her riding attire, his mother, clearly displeased with his idea, tried to stop him, to his apparent annoyance.

"You cannot leave the Red Keep without Vhagar. Who will protect us?" She asked, and her son rolled his eyes, impatient, licking his lower lip.

"I leave you in the care of Sunfyre and Dreamfyre. May my brother be of some use for once. With the help of the gods, we will return in about four days with a new dragon on our side." He said and stepped around her, mounting his horse and nodding at her to do the same.

When they reached Vhagar's lair, the dragoness raised lazily her large head, looking at them curiously – having seen her almost every day, she had already become accustomed to her presence and scent, remaining calm.

"Come." He said, and she moved to follow him, seeing that he had taken in his hands some of the bags his horse had been carrying on its back earlier.

She walked behind him, never coming this close to her, watching as the prince tied the grey bags to the ropes hanging from the saddle.

"What are you waiting for? Climb up." He said, glancing at her impatiently, and she nodded, surprised by his directness.

They both had no intention of showing that what had happened had affected them in any way.

Being with him meant a constant battle for dominance.

So be it, she thought and glanced up, sighing quietly.

She was afraid that Vhagar would not be happy that someone other than her rider was trying to climb onto her back, she, however, merely tilted her head towards her and watched her, not moving from her place.

"Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī." Her cousin reassured her as she, panting heavily, climbed with great difficulty over one of the ropes to her very back and sat down in the large leather saddle.

She blinked as her cousin appeared at her side shortly afterwards, as if covering the same distance hadn't caused him any trouble, and sat behind her, pulling the bags up, using the ropes so that they weren't hanging down.

She grunted, leaning forward, hugging the front of the saddle, feeling him all too clearly, his body pressed against her buttocks and back. She shuddered as he slipped his hands under her shoulders, grabbed a couple of the front ropes and called out loudly.

"Sōvēs!"

She squealed, terrified, hugging the saddle as the dragoness suddenly rose up on her paws, moving forward with a loud thump, and closed her eyes as she spread her great wings and flapped them, struggling to slowly lift herself into the air.

She had never experienced something so terrifying and liberating at the same time.

It wasn't until Vhagar had stabilised her flight and was gliding through the heavens that she dared to open her eyes – she froze in awe, seeing clouds all around her, doing what other people could only dream of.

Indeed, there was something wonderful about it, she thought with delight.

In the freedom that flight in the skies offered.

She leaned against the front of the saddle, simply looking ahead with a smile, watching the sun rise in the distance. She drew in a loud breath, feeling her heart beat harder as his cheek pressed against hers, apparently resting in this position.

She felt his erection pushing against her buttocks again, but neither of them spoke.

It was just a man's natural reaction to a woman's closeness, nothing more, she thought.

She knew he was playing with her – she knew he already understood what she wanted.

What she needed.

Tenderness.

Care.

Shelter.

This was why he nuzzled his nose into her cheek, why he persisted in this position: he wanted to break her, wanted her to love what he could be for her.

She felt tears under her eyelids, her eyebrows arching in pain knowing that it was all just a lie.

Her father would never come back for her, and even if he did, it would only be for the sake of the dragon, if she could tame it.

But not for her.

She was of no value to either of them.

As they landed with a thud on the ground in the middle of a wasteland full of hills, evening was approaching. It was only when she opened her eyes, horrified by how intense the landing itself had been, that she realised that her cousin had not chosen this place without reason.

He must have noticed from above what she could see clearly now – vast expanses of black, scorched earth with dozens of animal skeletons.

She shuddered as she heard her cousin untie the bags they had taken with them, letting them fall to the ground, and after a moment he slid down the rope to the bottom, landing lightly on the ground himself.

"Come here."

She made big eyes, feeling that this height terrified her. She swallowed hard, turning her back, grabbing the line and squealed as she suddenly slid down it with far too much speed, thinking she was just going to kill herself.

She gasped as she felt someone's arms soften her fall, supporting her, his impatient sigh told her it was not a graceful jump.

"Get yourself together. We're going to recon. It's fresh tracks, it must not be far." He said, and she nodded, feeling her legs grow all stiff from the long hours of travelling in the saddle.

Her cousin looked around, as if trying to remember this place and how they were supposed to get back here, then moved ahead quickly, making her have to almost run after him.

"When we find it. What should I do? Approach it right away?" She exhaled, following him step by step.

"Mmm. No, you'd better not do anything rash. No sudden movements. You can't make a mistake." He said coldly, and she swallowed hard, thinking in the back of her mind that it was easy for him to say.

However, despite all the absurdity of the situation, she felt excitement.

If she succeeded, she would return to King's Landing on the back of her own dragon.

They climbed one of the peaks, from which they could see clearly in the distance the lying silhouette of Vhagar, the fields, hills and valleys, but not a trace of the dragon. Her cousin pressed his lips together, frustrated.

He thought this would be easier, and the dragon would come to them on its own, she thought with a sneer, but she dared not provoke him, knowing that they were both tired.

"We must turn back. It will be dark soon. We will start tomorrow before sunrise, moving in the opposite direction." He ordered and she nodded, following obediently behind him, looking around at the familiar landscapes.

She had an advantage over him here, she thought.

She knew these places, she knew these people.

So why didn't she feel the need to run away?

When they returned to Vhagar's liege, darkness surrounded them. Her cousin had picked up a few long, thick branches on the way, and when they sat down on the grass he laid them down and lit a fire using a flint he had taken from one of his bags.

She did not ask his permission, which did not escape his notice as she untied one of them and began rummaging through it.

"What are you doing?" He asked matter-of-factly, adding wood to the fire, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"What did you take for us as nourishment?" She answered with a question to a question, causing him to merely turn his face away from her, trying to control himself for sure and not hurt her with his own hands.

"Bread and smoked meat." He said, and she sighed, pulling out a waterskin with spring water, drinking a few deep sips from it.

"If I had known that this would be our sustenance for the next few days, I would have asked you to bring a bow with us and I would have provided our meal myself." She said regretfully, and his face turned abruptly towards her.

"You don't need to eat. You will survive on water alone until our return to King's Landing." He hissed, meeting her tired, weary gaze.

"I have cooked many times while hunting with my uncle. It's a useful skill." She replied, pulling a woollen blanket from the pouch with which she covered herself.

Although Vhagar lay beside them, they were high between the hills where a strong, chilly wind was blowing.

She knew the night would be difficult.

Her cousin no longer spoke to her, gazing into the flames as if he could see something in them, his past or his future, his silhouette sitting on the Iron Throne or his fall from the heavens.

Finally, he lay down on the uncomfortably hard ground, placing one of his bags under his head, covering himself with the other blanket, and turned his back to her.

They couldn't sleep too close to Vhagar, for there was a risk that she would simply crush them by turning in her sleep. Therefore, they had to lie at a great distance from her, and their only source of heat was the fire.

She closed her eyes, trying not to think as her teeth began to chatter, her body trembling, her hands clenched into fists with each stronger gust of wind.

If this kept up, they'd both wake up with a fever.

"I'm cold." She said.

Silence.

A long one.

"I'm really cold. Aren't you?" She mumbled, guessing that he was suffering as much as she was, but would sooner die than admit it.

Targaryens and their fucking pride.

She stood up and walked a few steps with her blanket towards him, causing him to have exactly the reaction she wanted – he raised himself on his elbow and looked towards her, his jaw clenched in frustration.

"You have no shame."

"I don't care about shame. I'm supposed to die in dragon fire, not from the cold." She said and lay down beside him, slipping under his blanket, covering them with the other to create a thicker layer to protect them from the cold.

He slumped to the ground, letting the air out loudly, looking up at the stars as if he had given up. She embraced him, but not because she sought safety in his arms, but because he was a source of warmth that she wanted to cling to at all costs, hugging her face to his chest.

They stayed like that in silence, not moving – at first his whole body was tense, as if he thought that what she had done was just an excuse for her to slip her hand under his breeches and shamelessly try to seduce him – he relaxed, however, when he realised that all she really wanted was to lie in the warmth, and since he himself apparently felt better, also warmed by her presence, he said nothing more.

"What did you feel when you tamed Vhagar?" She whispered, looking ahead at the outline of the hills and mountains around them, feeling the cool breeze on her cheeks.

She was sure he wouldn't answer and felt herself begin to slowly fall asleep when she heard his quiet voice.

"Relief."

She blinked, surprised, not expecting him to put it this way.

Relief.

"Why?" She dared to ask further, still not looking at him, his heart hidden beneath the material of his tunic and cloak hit hard.

"I gave my family a reason to be proud." He explained, a note of bitterness in his words, as if something in that memory was painful to him.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, thinking with disappointment that she had never been anyone's pride.

Nothing she did mattered – not really.

She felt a single, lone tear run down her cheek onto the material of his leather coat and inhaled loudly, saying nothing more.

She shuddered, pulled out of her reverie when he slided his arm out from between their bodies – she froze when she felt him embrace her, cuddling her into his body, his fingers running through her soft hair as his cheek rested against her forehead.

She snuggled into him, into the merciless substitute of a protector he was to her, feeling the warmth in her chest as he let her face sink into his neck.

She knew that a part of him sympathised with her – she knew that, like her, he understood that in a day or two she might die for his cause, and so in some twisted definition of duty he tried to give her what she had craved all her life as a consolation prize for what she might lose.

It was so pathetic that she clenched her eyes shut and let heavy tears of shame run down her cheeks, her breath hitched and heavy, filled with pain.

She let him do this, let him take advantage of her desperation, the fact that she wanted so much to satisfy his vanity, because of how unavailable he reminded her of her father – by satisfying him, in her mind she was satisfying the man on whose lap she had sat as a small child, imagining that he had given her a second chance.

He created a lie for her to be able to endure what he was condemning her to.

"If you succeed. If you tame a dragon." He whispered, and she froze, feeling that he was about to reveal something vital to her, some secret he had never told anyone. "I will treat you like my little sister. I will care for you, and your place will always be by my side."

She shook her head, thinking how cruel he was, knowing exactly what to say, what to do to break her heart, to bend her to his will, to make sure she never betrayed him.

She cried out helplessly as he hugged her tighter to his body, as he cupped her cheek in his broad palm, rough from wielding his sword, and pressed his forehead against hers in a gesture that was too intimate, too tender, too sweet.

"I will protect you."

[novaursa]

A Dragon's Claim

- Summary: Daemon returns from his exile during the celebrations of Rhaenyra’s and Leanor’s wedding, with only one thing in mind: to claim you.

- Paring: niece!reader/Daemon Targaryen

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is younger sister of Rhaenyra and is bonded with Grey Ghost. These events happen before and lead to The Blood of the Dragon. The list of all my works in chronological order is on my blog, pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+ (there is no adult content in this one)

- Word count: 4 538

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The air in the great hall is thick with tension and mirth as lords and ladies gather beneath the towering pillars of the Red Keep. The glow of a thousand candles casts a golden hue over the faces of the realm’s most powerful, yet the flickering light cannot reach the shadows where whispers thrive.

You sit at the high table, a smile frozen on your lips as you watch Rhaenyra and Laenor share a dance, their steps polished but strained. Your elder sister’s gown is woven with gold and red thread, a stark contrast to Laenor’s pale silks. The match is political, a necessity, and everyone knows it. But the feast continues on, with music and wine flowing freely to disguise the uneasy undercurrents.

Your father, King Viserys, is content for now, raising his cup with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You know how deeply he misses your mother, and how hard he’s tried to keep the family together since her death. Beside him, Queen Alicent's gaze flickers between you and your siblings, always watchful, as if measuring the distance between you all.

Yet the evening shifts suddenly when a presence enters the hall, one that sends a murmur rippling through the gathered guests. Heads turn, voices hush. You feel the change in the air before you even see him.

Daemon.

Your Uncle strides in as if the years and the disgrace of his exile mean nothing. His long silver hair is swept back, and his black leather doublet clings to him like shadow. The greenish glow of dragon glass at his throat only sharpens the edges of his smile. He's dressed in dark finery, as if mourning—and you recall, with a bitter twist in your gut, that Lady Rhea Royce has just died. A hunting accident, they say. But few believe it was an accident at all.

Your breath catches as his violet eyes sweep across the hall before landing on you. There's a dangerous glint there, something raw and unsettling, something that reminds you why you’ve kept him at arm’s length all these years. You feel it like a caress, lingering too long, too close.

He moves with purpose, winding through the throng of courtiers until he’s at your side. Your fingers tighten around your goblet as he dips into an elegant bow, just deep enough to mock propriety. The room buzzes with speculation, but Daemon pays it no mind. His attention is wholly on you.

"Little Niece," he purrs, voice smooth as silk, yet laced with something darker. "It’s been too long."

You tilt your head, eyes narrowing as you regard him. "Not long enough," you reply, keeping your tone cool, distant.

He laughs—a low, rich sound that curls in your stomach, unsettling in its familiarity. "Such sharp words. You wound me, Y/N."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead taking a sip from your cup. "What do you want, Uncle? Surely you did not come all this way just to attend a wedding."

"Why would I not?" He shifts closer, the scent of leather, smoke, and something distinctly Daemon filling the air around you. "After all, it’s a family affair. And I’ve missed our little talks."

You can feel the heat of his gaze, the way it lingers on your face before dipping lower, as if taking you in inch by inch. It’s almost predatory. You’ve seen how other women melt under that stare, but it’s never had that effect on you. If anything, it’s only ever put you on edge.

"Missed?" you echo with a scoff. "You were banished, or did you forget?"

Daemon’s smile doesn’t falter, but it sharpens. "Exile is a state of mind, Niece. It changes nothing of who I am—or what I want."

Your jaw tightens. He’s always been this way—playing at power, testing limits. When you were younger, you found it thrilling, the way he flirted with danger, the way he seemed to live without consequence. But now, all you see is a man who’s always hungered for more than what is his.

"And what is it that you want now, Daemon?" you ask, holding his gaze. You don’t flinch, even when his smile widens.

His voice drops, low and intimate, a whisper meant for your ears alone. "The same thing I’ve always wanted. You."

The words are a knife, sharp and precise. They cut through the haze of laughter and music that surrounds you. You know what he’s asking, what he’s offering—and you also know you’d be a fool to accept.

You set down your goblet with deliberate care, your expression hardening. "You’re wasting your time. Whatever game you’re playing, find another piece for it."

His amusement doesn’t fade, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes—something darker, more frustrated. For a moment, the mask slips, and you see the hunger beneath, the yearning he’s kept at bay since you last rejected him.

"You think you’re above this, above me," he murmurs, his voice laced with challenge. "But we’re more alike than you care to admit, Y/N. Fire runs in our veins, and it will burn until we claim what’s ours."

You feel a shiver crawl up your spine, but you refuse to let it show. "Perhaps," you say coolly, standing from your seat and stepping back, putting distance between you. "But that fire will not consume me. Not for you. Not ever."

His gaze follows you as you move away, back into the crowd where the music drowns out the tension of your exchange. You feel his eyes on you, a burning brand that lingers even when you force yourself to focus on the dancing couples and the revelry. But Daemon Targaryen is not so easily dismissed.

You know this won’t be the last time he tries. He’s always been relentless in his pursuits. But you’ve held him off before—and you’ll do it again, no matter how many times he attempts to draw you into his web.

Yet in the depths of your mind, a small voice wonders how long you can keep resisting before the fire spreads.

The hall is alive with music and movement, swirling skirts and polished boots creating a dance of color and grace. You find yourself swept into the rhythm, partnered with Lord Tyland Lannister—a golden lion of the Westerlands, resplendent in his crimson and gold. He’s handsome enough, with a confident smile and courteous manners, but he lacks the edge of danger that seems to follow Targaryens like a shadow. 

Still, you laugh politely as he makes some jest about the boisterous nature of the court. Tyland is careful, measured in his charm, his hand respectfully placed at your waist as you twirl together across the floor. Yet your mind is only half on the conversation, aware that a pair of intense violet eyes is tracking your every move.

Daemon watches from where he leans against a pillar, his posture deceptively relaxed. He appears disinterested to those who don’t know him well, one hand holding a goblet of wine, the other idly tapping against his leg. But beneath that mask of ease is a tightly coiled tension, a hungry beast waiting for the right moment to strike. His gaze is riveted to you, sharp and possessive, a wolf studying its prey from afar.

Beside him, King Viserys attempts to draw his brother into conversation, oblivious to Daemon’s distraction. 

“It’s good to see you back, brother,” Viserys begins, his tone amiable as he turns to face Daemon. “We’ve missed you here. It’s been far too long since the family was whole.”

Daemon barely acknowledges the words, his focus entirely elsewhere. His eyes flick over the way you laugh at something Tyland says, the way your lips curve in amusement. A flicker of annoyance passes through him, a subtle tightening of his jaw. He’s always despised the Lannisters—their arrogance, their ambition, their sense of entitlement. And seeing you in Tyland’s arms only fuels the simmering irritation.

Viserys, oblivious to his brother’s dark thoughts, continues, raising his goblet to Daemon. “Rhaenyra is happy tonight, isn’t she? It’s a good match for her, one that will strengthen the realm. Laenor is—”

“A distraction,” Daemon mutters, cutting him off, his tone sharp enough to draw Viserys’ attention.

Viserys frowns, looking at him more closely. “What’s on your mind, Daemon? You’ve barely said a word since you arrived. If it’s about Rhea—”

Daemon lets out a dry chuckle, finally turning his gaze to Viserys, but it’s laced with disdain. “Rhea is long dead, brother. Her bones are cold and buried. Let us not pretend we mourn her now.”

Viserys shifts uncomfortably, clearly unsure of how to respond. “Still, it’s no easy thing to lose a wife, even one you didn’t—”

Daemon cuts him off again, this time with a flick of his hand. “Enough, Viserys. I didn’t come here to talk about the past.”

“What did you come here for, then?” Viserys asks, voice softening as he tries to reach out to his brother. “We can put things right between us. There’s no need for more distance. We’re family—”

Daemon’s gaze snaps back to you, watching as you spin gracefully in Tyland’s arms, your dress swirling around you like flames licking at the air. His lips curve into a faint, humorless smile. “Family…” he repeats, the word bitter on his tongue. “Yes, it’s always about family.”

He doesn’t bother hiding the way his eyes track your every movement. Viserys follows his line of sight, finally understanding where Daemon’s attention lies. He clears his throat, his expression hardening. “Y/N is not for you, Daemon. She’s my daughter, and I’ll not have her tangled in whatever schemes you’re plotting.”

Daemon’s smile widens, but there’s no warmth in it. “Schemes? You wound me, brother. I only have your daughter’s best interests at heart.”

“Do you?” Viserys’ voice takes on a warning edge. “You’ve already caused enough trouble tonight with your sudden appearance. If you truly care for her, you’ll leave her be.”

But Daemon doesn’t answer. His thoughts are locked elsewhere, watching how you move with such effortless grace, the way your eyes spark with life as you dance, seemingly carefree. He knows you’re aware of his presence, can sense it in the way you avoid looking in his direction, how you keep Tyland between you and the shadows where Daemon lurks. It’s a clever tactic—one that both frustrates and excites him.

“She’s stubborn,” he murmurs, almost to himself, as his eyes narrow. “But that’s what makes the chase worthwhile.”

Viserys stiffens, his grip tightening around his cup. “I’m warning you, Daemon. You’ll not drag her into your games. If you truly have any regard for her, you’ll stop this.”

Daemon turns to face his brother fully now, his expression unreadable, but his tone is laced with cold mockery. “And what if she doesn’t want your protection, Viserys? What if she wants something… else?”

“That’s enough.” The king’s voice is steel now, but it wavers slightly, betraying the deep undercurrent of worry. “I won’t allow it. You’ll stay away from her.”

Daemon holds his brother’s gaze for a long, tense moment before he breaks into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, brother. I live to serve.”

But as Viserys takes his words at face value and turns away, relief evident in his posture, Daemon’s eyes drift back to you. A storm brews within them, filled with unresolved hunger and an unyielding determination. He watches as you end the dance with a gracious curtsy, Lord Tyland offering a courtly bow in return, and his fingers curl tighter around his goblet.

You may think you’ve pushed him away, that you’ve built walls high enough to keep him out. But Daemon Targaryen has never been one to accept defeat—not when there’s something he desires as fiercely as he desires you.

No, the game is far from over. If anything, it’s only just begun. And as you catch his gaze from across the hall, your eyes locking for the briefest of moments before you look away, you feel it too—the inevitability of the fire that threatens to consume you both.

For now, you dance with Lannisters and play your part as the dutiful daughter. But Daemon’s patience, like all things about him, is dangerous. And sooner or later, he knows, you’ll find yourself face-to-face with the truth neither of you can deny—no matter how much you might try to resist it.

The music softens, allowing the hum of conversation to fill the hall. You’re surrounded by a cluster of courtiers, each eager to share a word or a compliment with the princess of the realm. They shower you with flowery flattery, and you respond with practiced grace, a polite smile that never quite reaches your eyes. 

You’re keenly aware of Daemon lurking at the edge of your periphery, a shadow just waiting to slip into the light. He’s watching, waiting for an opening—and when your father becomes occupied by the arrival of Lord Beesbury, Daemon seizes his chance.

The courtiers around you stiffen as Daemon approaches, the atmosphere shifting subtly as they sense the tension that follows him. He cuts through the crowd with the grace of a dragon circling its prey, a dark smile curling on his lips as he stops just beside you. The air crackles with his presence, drawing every eye in the circle toward him.

“Y/N,” he says smoothly, his voice warm honey over cold steel. “I hope you’re not allowing these dullards to bore you.” There’s an undercurrent of possessiveness in the way he says your name, a familiar, disconcerting tone that sends a shiver down your spine.

You keep your expression composed, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing any discomfort. The eyes of the court are upon you, watching for any reaction, any hint of scandal. You cannot afford to make a scene—not tonight, not at Rhaenyra’s wedding. So you take a slow breath and incline your head, allowing him to join the conversation if only to avoid drawing unwanted attention.

“Uncle,” you greet him, your tone carefully neutral. “I find the company quite agreeable, actually.”

A flicker of amusement dances in his eyes as he takes a step closer, deliberately brushing the edge of your skirts with his boot. “Do you? Well, perhaps it’s simply my own poor luck that I’ve yet to find anyone in this hall nearly as fascinating as you.”

The compliment is a blade, sharp and glittering with intent. The courtiers exchange nervous glances, unsure of where to place themselves in this verbal dance between the two of you. They sense the tension, the unspoken challenge in Daemon’s words, but they dare not intervene. Instead, they hang back, listening closely while pretending otherwise.

You give a tight smile, deflecting his advance with ease. “How fortunate for you, then, to have found me amidst so many ‘dullards,’ as you so kindly put it.”

He laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends gooseflesh prickling across your skin. “Indeed. But then, I’ve always known where to find the rarest of treasures.”

His eyes lock onto yours, the weight of his gaze heavy with suggestion. You feel the noose of his presence tightening around you, making it harder to keep up the pretense of polite conversation. Every word he speaks is laced with a deeper meaning, a challenge you’re unwilling to meet, yet can’t entirely ignore.

One of the courtiers, a nervous young man from House Florent, clears his throat and tries to steer the conversation back to safer waters. “Princess Y/N, Lord Daemon, I heard the finest fabrics for tonight’s event were imported directly from Qarth. Perhaps you’d care to share your thoughts on—”

Daemon silences him with a glance, his attention never fully leaving you. “I think the princess and I have far more interesting matters to discuss, don’t we, Niece?” He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, just loud enough for the others to hear the edge in it. “Or perhaps you’d prefer we step outside, where we might speak more privately?”

You stiffen slightly at his audacity, feeling your control slipping under the intensity of his advance. But you refuse to let him see how he rattles you. “That won’t be necessary,” you reply, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. “We’re perfectly fine where we are.”

Daemon’s smile widens, but it’s not the charming smile of a courtier. It’s something darker, edged with hunger and frustration. He’s testing your boundaries, trying to see how far he can push before you break. And you know that refusing him outright, especially in public, might only embolden him further.

He takes another step closer, his arm brushing against yours as he speaks in a tone meant for your ears alone. “You’ve always been so careful, Y/N. So proper, so well-behaved. But there’s fire in you—I’ve seen it. You can pretend all you like, but you can’t deny what’s in our blood, what we’re meant for.”

You force yourself to meet his gaze, your heart thudding in your chest. “You mistake me, Daemon. Whatever you think we share, you’re wrong. I am not like you.”

“Not yet, perhaps,” he murmurs, his lips barely moving as his breath ghosts across your ear. “But you will be, in time. The fire consumes us all eventually. Why fight what you can’t escape?”

Before you can answer, one of the other courtiers—a lady from House Frey—interjects with a forced laugh, clearly sensing the rising tension. “Lord Daemon, you speak of fire as though it’s something to be embraced. But surely even dragons know better than to be burned alive.”

Daemon doesn’t bother responding to her, his gaze still locked on you. “Perhaps some of us would rather burn than live half-alive.”

The weight of his words lingers in the air, a challenge wrapped in seduction. You can feel the eyes of everyone around you, waiting to see how you’ll respond. Every nerve in your body screams at you to walk away, to extricate yourself from this perilous game he’s playing, but the chains of decorum hold you in place.

“Not everyone fears the flame,” you reply, your voice a delicate balance between defiance and diplomacy. “But not everyone is foolish enough to be consumed by it either.”

For a moment, Daemon’s expression softens, a flicker of admiration passing through his eyes. He’s always liked your spirit, the way you push back when others would cower. It’s one of the reasons he’s so drawn to you—you’re a challenge, not easily won. But that only makes him more determined.

He steps back slightly, giving you room to breathe, though his presence still lingers like smoke in the air. “We shall see, Niece,” he says, his tone softer now, but no less intense. “We shall see.”

The conversation shifts awkwardly back to safer topics as the courtiers nervously chatter to fill the silence, but the damage is done. The undercurrents of tension remain, swirling just beneath the surface, unseen by most but keenly felt by you.

You make your excuses and step away from the circle, moving toward the safety of the crowd. But you can feel Daemon’s eyes on you, tracking your every movement, a predator biding its time.

You take a deep breath, willing yourself to focus on the revelry, the laughter, the music. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t shake the feeling that tonight was only the beginning. Daemon has set his sights on you once more, and though you’ve pushed him away before, you know this time he’s more determined than ever.

The fire is closing in, and you’re not sure how much longer you can keep it at bay.

The days in King’s Landing have grown longer, shadows stretching thin as the sun’s heat begins to wane with autumn’s approach. It has been weeks since the feast, since Daemon first rekindled his pursuit of you, and those weeks have been filled with nothing but frustration. You’ve become as elusive as a wisp of smoke, always slipping from his grasp just when he thinks he’s closed the distance.

He’s been searching for you throughout the Red Keep, stalking through the corridors like a restless lion. Servants avert their eyes when he passes, knowing better than to cross him when his temper is barely leashed. He checks the gardens where you sometimes take afternoon strolls, the library where you immerse yourself in history, even the secluded balcony where you once sat to watch the sun dip beneath the horizon. But you’re nowhere to be found.

His patience, already thin, frays with each passing moment. Where are you?

Eventually, he strides into the inner courtyard, his boots striking the cobblestones with purpose. He spots Rhaenyra, her golden hair spilling like liquid sunlight as she leans casually against a column. She’s watching a pair of knights spar in the yard, but when she catches sight of Daemon, she lifts a brow in amusement.

“Uncle,” she greets, her tone warm but laced with curiosity. “You seem troubled. Should I be concerned for my safety?”

Daemon barely slows his approach, his eyes narrowed and searching. “Where is she, Rhaenyra?”

Rhaenyra’s smirk widens, enjoying the tension radiating from him. She has always seen through him, understood the games he plays. But right now, her amusement only fuels his growing irritation.

“She?” she asks, feigning ignorance. “You’ll have to be more specific, Uncle. There are quite a few women within the Keep.”

“Don’t play coy with me,” he snaps, his voice a low growl. “You know who I mean. Where is Y/N?”

Rhaenyra’s amusement falters slightly as she studies him more closely. She sees the fire in his eyes, the barely contained storm that brews beneath his calm exterior. She knows Daemon well enough to recognize when he’s truly agitated.

“And why would you assume I’d know her whereabouts?” she asks, though her tone is more measured now, less teasing. “She doesn’t confide everything in me.”

Daemon steps closer, his frustration bleeding into impatience. “She’s your sister. You know where she’s gone. Stop wasting time and tell me.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze flickers with something unreadable before she sighs, realizing he won’t relent. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?” She shakes her head as if in disbelief, then lowers her voice conspiratorially. “Fine. I’ll tell you, but only because it’ll keep you from stalking around the Keep like a shadowed ghost.”

She pauses, savoring the way Daemon’s impatience makes him lean in closer. “She’s gone to ride Grey Ghost.”

Daemon’s reaction is instant. The blood drains from his face as his eyes sharpen, and without another word, he turns on his heel, already planning his next move. The mention of the dragon’s name—Grey Ghost, the elusive and wild creature—ignites something dangerous within him.

Rhaenyra watches with a slight frown, sensing his sudden intensity. “Daemon—wait. She knows what she’s doing; she’s always had a bond with that dragon—”

But he’s not listening. His mind is racing, the image of you alone on the back of such a wild, unpredictable creature flashing before his eyes. Grey Ghost is no docile mount like Syrax or Caraxes. The dragon is known for being elusive, rarely seen and even more rarely approached. For you to go after such a beast alone—Daemon feels a surge of possessive protectiveness he can’t tamp down.

He strides swiftly toward the stables, barking orders at the stablehands to ready his horse. The urgency in his tone leaves no room for argument. “Saddle it quickly!” he snaps, every muscle tense with the need to move, to reach the Dragonpit before it’s too late.

In the back of his mind, he knows he’s not only worried about your safety. This chase, this pursuit, has become something more to him—an obsession, a need to prove that you can’t slip away from him, not when he’s decided you’re his. And riding Grey Ghost? That’s an act of defiance, a clear signal that you’re not afraid to dance on the edge of danger.

He mounts his horse in one smooth motion and urges the animal into a gallop. The wind rushes past him as he rides through the streets of King’s Landing, his mind singularly focused on getting to the Dragonpit. He doesn’t care who watches or what whispers will follow in the wake of his urgency. Let them talk; let them wonder. All that matters is reaching you.

By the time he arrives at the Dragonpit, he’s barely winded, though his blood roars in his veins like wildfire. The keepers bow hastily as he storms past them, heading straight for the chamber where Caraxes, his own dragon, resides. The Blood Wyrm growls low as Daemon approaches, sensing the tension in his rider.

Daemon doesn’t waste a moment, clambering onto Caraxes’ back with practiced ease. The bond between dragon and rider is instinctual, and with a sharp command, Caraxes unfurls his wings and takes to the skies with a powerful beat. They soar upward, climbing higher into the heavens as Daemon scans the horizon, searching for the faint silhouette of a dragon in flight.

He knows the general area where Grey Ghost roams—often among the mist-shrouded cliffs near the coast, far from the reach of men. If you’ve truly gone there alone, then you’ve either misjudged your own courage or you’re challenging him in your own quiet, stubborn way.

Either way, he intends to catch you.

The thrill of the chase pulses through him, his heart racing as Caraxes cuts through the clouds, flying faster and faster toward where he hopes to find you. There’s a primal satisfaction in the pursuit, the idea of tracking you down, claiming what he believes should be his. He imagines what you’ll say when he catches you, what you’ll do—if you’ll continue to resist, or if you’ll finally realize there’s no escaping the inevitable.

As they fly over the rugged cliffs, he finally spots a shadow moving below—grey scales glinting in the fading light. There you are, astride Grey Ghost, your figure small but unmistakable. The sight sends a surge of possessive relief through him. You’re safe, unharmed, but you’ve ventured too far for his liking.

He urges Caraxes lower, drawing closer until the two dragons are flying side by side, their wings slicing through the air in tandem. The sound of Caraxes’ approach makes you turn, your eyes widening as you realize who’s followed you. Even from a distance, Daemon can see the defiance in your gaze, the way you straighten your back and tighten your grip on the reins.

You’re not pleased to see him. But that’s too bad.

Daemon grins, his eyes flashing with determination as he closes the distance, ready to confront you, to remind you that running—or flying—won’t keep him at bay. He’s always known where to find you, and now that he’s caught up, he has no intention of letting you slip away again.

The chase may be thrilling, but Daemon Targaryen has never been content to chase forever. At some point, even the most elusive prey must be caught. And when he finally corners you in the sky, he’ll make sure you know exactly what it means to be his.

[slavicdelight]

EPHEMERAL

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen × Targ!Royce!f!reader

Summary: Your father, Prince Daemon Targaryen never ackowledged you. Your mother, Lady Rhea Royce passed away when you were little, which leaves you to be raised by your uncle - King Viserys Targaryen, and his wife - Queen Alicent Hightower. As you grow up in the Red Keep, you grew close to the kings second son - Prince Aemond Targaryen.

Warnings: cursing, violence, canon divergence

A/N: part two is here HIRAETH

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Being the daughter of the infamous Rouge Prince was not easy, especially when your mother was a woman he despised up until her death or after that. You were not even supposed to exist, as your parents held such resentment towards each other, that their union was not consummated for a very long time, before one fateful night, when Prince Daemon was exiled from King’s Landing yet again by his brother, King Viserys. Your maid mentioned to you that your father was extremely enraged and got drunk inside the walls of Runestone. Your lady mother was also having an exceptionally bad day, and so she joined her husband in consuming a ridiculous amount of wine. One thing led to another, therefore you were conceived, and the Targaryen man fled the very next day.

You were born the same year as the eldest son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent, growing up in the Vale with only your mother there, as your father, upon hearing the news of your birth did not even acknowledge you as his child and flew away to fight in the Stepstones. He could call you a bastard of his “Bronze Bitch” all he wanted, but even though you had brown hair, no one could deny the fact that you have the blood of the dragons flowing through your veins, for your eyes were the gorgeous shade of violet. Runestone was your home. You loved running in its halls, playing with various servants and guards, but your most favourite part was learning everything you could from your mother. Sadly your childhood joy did not last long. When you were two name days old Lady Rhea passed away in what was called a hunting accident. People of the Vale did not believe that story and were spreading rumours that it was her husband, who murdered her in cold blood.

Queen Alicent, after learning about your misfortune, convinced her husband to bring you to the Red Keep to be raised among your cousins. She mentioned a well-known saying going around the Targaryen family: “A dragon alone in the world is a terrible thing”. And so, as a result, you were brought to Kings Landing and raised along with the queen’s and Princess Rhaenyra’s children. You got on with Helaena and Aemond pretty well. The princess was your closest friend, you spent most of the time together, because you were the only two girls among the royal family residing in the castle. You did not mind her riddles nor her fondness for small creatures, quite the opposite, you found it fascinating how smart Helaena is. Aemond was a slightly different story. You remember being drawn to him, something inside you did not let you pull away from the prince. For him you were his light in life, the only person he did not mind the company of. You both were polar opposites. You being very kind, talkative and a ray of sunshine, him being closed off and quiet. You disliked Aegon, even though you were the closest in age, because of his vile language and inappropriate behavior. He was also a bully and liked to tease you and Aemond for not having dragons, dragging the sons of Princess Rhaenyra into it as well. When it comes to Jace and Luke, you found them pleasant to be around when they’re not doing Aegon’s bidding. Your life in the Red Keep was going well and you thrived in this environment, but what you did not know, is that it would all soon come to an end.

time skip to the funeral of Laena Velaryon

After Prince Daemon won the war in the Stepstones, he came back to his brothers’ side once again, but it did not last long, as he left following the wedding of Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor. During his presence in the castle, he was set on ignoring your existence, and you only saw him once, when he strolled through the gardens, where you were sitting with Helaena. He wed the lady Laena Velaryon soon after and left for Pentos abandoning you again. Now, you are all standing on Driftmark, attending the said lady’s funeral. Once again your father has paid you no attention and you decided not to let it bother you. After the coffin was laid down into the sea everyone started conversing amongst each other. You decided to stay close to Aemond, due to not feeling confident and you knew that he was the only person who could bring you comfort. As you headed to where the green siblings stood, you heard Aegon talking.

“We have nothing in common.” he said, clearly talking about Helaena, who sat on the ground playing with a spider. As you walked closer you heard her muttering one of her riddles. “She’s our sister.” defended her Aemond, right when you appeared next to him and took his hand, sending a small smile his way, which he returned. “You marry her then”. Lately, it has been revealed that the two eldest children of Queen Alicent are betrothed. You pitied your friend, Aegon was probably the most horrid person you have ever encountered.

“I would perform my duty, if only mother had only betrothed us. But I am to marry someone else.” with that he looked at you. “I am happy to be marrying you, as you are the best possible choice.” you said to him, squeezing his hand tighter. The small council also decided on a marriage between you and the King’s second son.

“She’s an idiot.” said Aegon and your blood boiled. “At least she’s not a complete moron and a drunk.” you bit back and Aemond had to fight back a grin. “Oh you little witch.” said the boy and tried to advance towards you unsuccessfully.

“She’s your future Queen” said the younger brother. It was a known fact that the Queen and the Hand wish to put him on the throne instead of Princess Rhaenyra. War was inevitable. “We do have something in common.” said Aegon, when a maid came over with a tray of wine. “We both fancy creatures with very long legs.” and with that he strolled away in search for more alcohol.

That left you alone with Aemond. Suddenly the pair of you heard unmistakably a roar of the dragon in the distance. Vhagar, the she-dragon of Queen Visenya, that recently became riderless. You look at your companion and noticed the longing look in his eyes. “Aemond. What are you thinking?” you said to get his attention. He turned to you for a second before continuing to stare in the direction of the sound. “She’s hurting, mourning the loss of lady Laena. I always wanted to see her, after all, she is the last living symbol of the conquest. “ you kept going. “Hmm. Maybe we should go and see her then.” you looked at him as he said that. “Tonight, after everyone’s asleep so that no one stops us.”You were used to sneaking out, as you both often did so to spend time together in the keep’s library late at night, to read all the books you could find. After small moment of consideration, you nodded to let him know that you agree to the plan. Up untill the night, you spend time with each other exploring the Drftmark castle.

Soon enough it started to grow dark. You and your best friend stood next to the flight of stairs leading to the beach, looking at drunk Aegon. Just as you were planning to sneak off, the boys’ grandfather, Otto Hightower, came into view, grabbing the eldest prince to drag him to his bed. Aemond looked at you as they left and motioned to follow him, which you did without any worries. Both of you walked towards the place Vhagar nested in, and once the mighty dragon became visible, you were amazed. She was so big, that she did not need to open her mouth much to swallow the two of you. “Fuck” muttered Aemond. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?” you whispered and couldn’t tear your gaze away. And with you saying that the white-haired boy proceeded to move closer towards her. Your brows furrowed at the act and you asked “My prince? What are you doing?”

Aemond turned to face you and said “She is unclaimed and she’s suffering. I can’t let it go on.”. You then understood what he meant and the idea of your betrothed going straight into the jaws of the biggest dragon alive made you uneasy. “Aemond. This is a bad idea! She could burn you! Or eat you!” you argued. “It is my right, both of our right, to claim a dragon.” you knew that, but there were so many dragons without riders. Surely you could make a trip to Dragonstone and try your luck with others, nonetheless, you knew that once Aemond set his mind on something, there is no changing it.

“Just please, be careful.” you muttered into his ear as you hugged the boy. Unwanted tears gathered in your eyes, as you saw him approach the animal. You were pretty far away and too lost in your own mind to hear him say anything. When Vhagar opened her mouth to breathe fire, you almost fainted from worry, but you believed that he could do it. And he did it, the dragon accepted him as his rider, letting him climb atop her for their first flight. You were so proud of the prince and you beamed into the sky screaming “Yes Aemond! You did it!” and laughing. Once the flight was done and he climbed down, he called you to his side. You came over slowly, wary of the dragon, as you knew, they don’t like the presence of people, who aren’t their riders.

“I did it! Did you see? I was flying!” Aemond became a ball of energy at this moment and you couldn’t help but grin. “You did it. You’re finally a dragon rider.” and with that, you hugged him. “I’m so proud of you.”. He gave you a beautiful smile, but it slightly fell, once you said “But scare me like that ever again and I will kill you.”. Taking his hand, you both started walking back towards the castle and Aemond told you all about the experience, and how freeing, yet terrifying it felt. Neither of you expected to encounter a problem once you walked inside.

“It’s them.” said one of your half-sisters. In the entrance stood the daughters of the late Lady Laena, along with Jace and Luke. “It’s us.” confirmed Aemond when you both emerged from the darkness. “Vhagar is my mother’s dragon. She was mine to claim.” exclaimed Rhaena and you could clearly see rage overcoming her. “Dragons aren’t possessions to be passed down, dear sister.” you told her and everyones eyes turned to you. “Aemond had the right to claim her and she chose him. It is done.” you defended your prince and he gave you a small smile before saying “Perhaps your cousins would find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.” Not that long ago Aegon, Jace, and Luke pulled a prank on Aemond, dressing up a pig in wings, calling it Pink Dread. With that Rhaena tried to hit him, but he dodged the attempt and pushed her away, making Baela strike him on the nose. With that, all hell broke loose and you knew that it will not end well. You tried to stop them “No! Leave him alone! He didn’t do anything wrong!”, but someone pushed you away and you banged your head against the torch on a wall. You could feel the bleeding and the ache, but you ignored it to observe what was happening in front of you.

Aemond was holding Luke by the neck, while in his other hand he gripped a rock. “You will die screaming as you father did. Bastards.” he said and you were shocked, not because you didn’t believe it, but rather because he said it out loud. Everyone knew Princess Rhaenyra was having an affair with Ser Harwin Strong. How else would anyone explain the certain resemblance he has to the “Velaryon” boys? They do not look anything like their supposed father Ser Laenor. The King Viserys was conveniently blind to it, but everyone knew that he just prefered to conceal the truth to protect his “only child”. “My father’s still alive.” said Luke and you watched a smirk appear on the white-haired prince’s face. “He doesn’t know, does he? Lord Strong.” he continued and you had to intervene. “Aemond stop. That’s enough. Let’s finish this madness.” you tried to convince him to let the younger prince go. He looked at you and that’s when Luke broke free and both he and Jace attacked Aemond. Before you could comprehend what was happening you saw a flash of knife and blood chilling scream of your betrothed.

You ran towards him and saw him clutching his eye tightly. The bastard took his eye. “Aemond!” you screamed. “Guards! What are you waiting for?! Get help!” you yelled at your sisters and cousins, while trying to soothe Aemond. Soon enough guards poured in and one of them pulled you away from your best friend, much to your protest. “My prince. Let me see.” The guard turned Aemond around and saw the wound. “Gods be good” Gods be good indeed. You were all taken to the hall and the adults were called. By that time you felt very faint from the blood loss and passed out. You didn’t hear the exchange between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra as you did not wake in time, but you know, as did everyone in the realm, what transpired there.

You woke up two days later, and you took time to recover. It did not stop you from visiting Aemond in his chambers or going to the gardens and spending time with Helaena. One day as you were walking to your rooms, you overheard a conversation between Queen Alicent and Lord Larys Strong. They were discussing the issue of your father marrying Princess Rhaenyra and the scandal it caused. Both believed they had a hand in Ser Laenor’s murder, but what was said in this conversation rang in your head for days. “I would not put it passed Prince Daemon to murder the princess’s husband. After all, nothing stopped him from killing his first wife.” Your mother’s death wasn’t an accident, because it was Daemon who murdered her to finally be free of marriage duty. Since that day you hated your father even more and you promised yourself, that you would avenge your beloved mother.

time skip six years later

You and Aemond have been married for a year now and you recently welcomed a child into the world, a beautiful girl named Alysanne after the Good Queen, who looked like exact copy of the prince. Your husband a wonderful father and lover. Since the day your daughter was born he has been spending all of his free time tending to you both. Even though the Driftmark accident caused the prince to be colder and more intimidating, he was very caring and soft towards you, your daughter, his mother and his sister. Only the women of his family were privileged to see this side of him. After your wedding you relocated to Runestone and you took over your responsibilities as a Lady of the house. Aemond unsurprisingly thrived in the Vale as the Lord of Runestone, as he was dutiful, smart and formidable. You were content there, but you visited the Red Keep as often as you could on your dragons. Yes, you heard correctly. Dragons. About two years after the loss of Aemonds eye, you stumbled upon a dragon of your own. It was one of the wild ones, that terrified anyone who heard his name. You claimed the notorious Canniball. During the last visit to King’s Landing, Helaena gifted you both a dragonn egg from Dreamfire’s latest clutch to put into Alysanne’s cradle.

Just last night the three of you arrived at court for the Driftmark petitions, that are being held in approximately three days. Corlys Velaryon suffered a terrible injury during his voyage and no one could be sure if he will recover. This plundged the succession into question. Lord Vaemond Velaryon publicly questioned Lucerys Velaryon’s right to become the next Lord of the Tides. King Viserys has been bedridden for a long time now, and the realm was placed into the hands of Hightowers, who ruled in his stead. Princess Rhaenyra was informed of the petition and was to come to the Red Keep to defend her son, and along with her will come the whole black fraction of Targaryen family. You weren’t keen on seeing any of them again, especially Prince Daemon, as you held strong resentment towrads the man.

On the day of their arrival you and your daughter were on the country yard watching Aemond train with Ser Criston Cole. Soon you saw the two eldest sons of heir to the iron throne and smirked at their terrified expressions, while they realised what formidable fighter your husband was. With a few more strikes of the blade Aemond defeated Cole. “Congratulations my Prince, you’ll be winning tourneys in no time.” said the knight. “I don’t give a shit about tourneys.” you beloved answered and directed his eyes towards the boys. “Nephews. Have you come to train?”. In that moment the gate opened and in walked Vaemond Velaryon, advancing towards the keep, he casted the nastiest look he could muster towards his “nephews”.

After that Jace and Luke scurried away inside, probably in search of their mother or Daemon for protection and Aemond walked up to you and took your daughter into his arms, while she blabbed excitetly at her father. “It seems, my love, that you scare them off.” you said, smilig at him. “Hmmm. Good. It is best they learn their place. I am not so easily defeated now.” and with that he placed his hand on the small of your back and guided you in direction of your chambers. When you walked inside, Aemond placed your daughter in her cradle, while you sat next to the fireplace. “I wish for you to behave today. I know that their presence irritates you, but it is not for long and we don’t need any fights today. Gods know my father is only waiting for a reason to kill us all, so it will be best not to give him one.” Aemond only hummed at that and went to stand behind you to massage you neck. “You’re tense.” he stated the obvious. “Of course I am. It is stressfull enough to be in one keep with him. Seriously Aemond, do not do anything to cause a fight today, I beg you.” you truned to look him straight into the eye. “For you, my darling wife, I will be civil, but don’t expect me to be nice.” he answered. You nodded in confirmation. That was all you needed.

Finally it was time for the petitions to be held. You stood between Aemond and Heleana, looking straight into the eyes of Prince Daemon Targaryen and he held your gaze, as if it was a staring contest. Lord Hand stood before the Iron Throne and declared the petitions to be open. First one to make his was Ser Vaemond. His statement was going all about the Velaryon blood, and how his supposed nephews did not have a drop of it in themselves. Princess Rhaenyra tried to intervene, only to be stopped by you mother-in-law. At the end of his petiton he put himself forward as the successor of his brother. It was now the turn of your stepmother to defend her son’s right. She walked gracefully towards the throne and started to say “If I have to grace this farce, I must remind you, that yearly twenty years ago in this very room..”

She was interrupted by the doors swinging open as the knight announced “King Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.”. Everyone couldn’t hide their surprise, after all, the king hasn’t been seen in a long time, too sick to even get up from his bed. And yet here he was, walking to the throne with a golden mask covering half of his face, leaning on the support of a cane. “Father has once again come to defend his only child.” sneered Aegon. You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your lips, it was true, he never shown any care to anyone other than his eldest daughter, and for that you hated the man almost as much as you did your father. In your eyes he was a weak king and even a weaker man. Disgraceful.

In that moment everyone knew that Driftmark will be going to Lucerys, no matter how wrong it was and how many people protested against it. Luke was a sweet boy, but he had no right to the Driftwood Throne. “I don’t understand why are we discussing a settled succesion.” the king said after finally settling on the throne. “The only one, who could offer keeper insight into Lord Corlys’ wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”. The said princess took a step closer before answering her cousin. “Indeed Your Grace. It was in Lord Corlys’ wishes for Driftmark to be passed to his grandson, Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed, nor my support of him. Princess Rhaenyra offered to betroth her children, Jace and Luke to Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.” You all knew that is was pointless to argue now. Viserys affirmed Lucerys as the future Lord of the Tides, but it wasn’t acceptable to Ser Vaemond as he openly declared the sons of the heir as bastards. “I will have you tongue for that” rasped the king, but it wasn’t necessary. Prince Daemon Targaryen unnoticed by everyone sneaked behind Vaemond, Dark Sister in his hand, and cut off his head in one strike. Everyone in the hall got startled at that and the petitions were over. The King had to be carried out of the hall as he suddenly fell down.

“Did you see them? Flaunting their privilege without a care in the world. It is horrible how they think they can get away with everything.” you spoke on the way back to your chambers with Aemond trailing behind you. “Darling. Do not worry, it will not last long anyway.” your husband tried to coax you to calm down. After walking into the room, you headed straight to the cradle where Alysanne laid awake, playing with a dragon plushie you made for her during your tea with Helaena. The prince dismissed the maid who was watching your daughter and walked over to you two. “I’m scared Aemond. You saw what he did there. He has no restrain, I fear what he would do to us, to her.” you said and looked at the babe. “He will do nothing, for he would be called a kinslayer. And I shall protect you both with my life. Nothing will happen, I promise you.” That made you hug him and bury your face in his chest. Everything has to be alright.

The night came, and with it the dreaded family dinner, which was demanded by Viserys in honor of his family being all in the same place for the first time in six years. You were talking with Helaena about setting up another playdate for your kids, while your husbands stood to the side talking Gods know about what. Eventually, everyone took their seats. You and your husband were at the end of it, exactly in front of Lucerys and Rhaena. You all stood up when the King was carried in and so let the game of pretending begin. “It is good to see you all, together” Viserys started and Alicent proposed to say prayers. The King stood up for a speech. “My own face is no longer a handsome one, if indeed it ever was” he revealed his full face, which was missing an eye. He looked more like a skeleton than a human. “But tonight, I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king, but your father.” he looked towards Rhaenyra, Aegon, Helaena and Aemond. “your husband” he said to Alicent. “and your grandsire who may not, it seems, walk for much longer among you.” Everyone’s faces displayed something else, but what they all had in common, was pain of seeing him suffer. “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. Set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown, then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”. After his speech, Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent made toasts to each other and the atmosphere became lighter. Everyone were enjoying themselves, the room was full of music, laughter, dancing, and pleasant conversations. It was all going smoothly until the pig was brought to the table and set directly in front of your husband. By that time Viserys was carried out as he felt worse. That made Lucerys chuckle, as he was reminded of Pink Dread, and send a smirk Aemonds way. This was his mistake, as the older prince suddenly slammed his hand onto the table, grabbed his cup and made the final toast of the night.

“Final tribute.” with saying that he had everyone’s attention and Aegon raised his cup in support of his brother. “To the health of my nephews: Jace…Luke…and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” every person in the room held their breath as their waited for inevidable. “Strong.” “Aemond” you and Alicent said at the same time, but he did not listen and he was not about to stop. “Come…Let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.” that made Jace mad and he went to retaliate. “I dare you to say that again” the bronze haired boy said and everyone stood up from their seats in case a fight erupted. “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment” continued your husband. “Enough of that” you said at the same time Aemond aksed “Do you not thing yourself Strong?”. Jace came over and hit the elder prince straight on the jaw, but it did nothing for Aemond only laughed and shoved the Velaryon onto the floor.“Jace!” screamed Rhaenyra. Lucerys tried to join the fight to help his brother, only to be stopped by Aegon, who slammed him on the table. “That’s enough” said Alicent. You were mad and decided to storm out of the room.

Not much later you husband stepped into the comfort of your chambers where he found you staring outside the window. He walked closer but you immediately took a step back and hissed at him “I asked you not to do anything today. But as always you had to let your pride ruin everything. Now you put a target on our backs. Daemon won’t let this go.”. “My love…” he started only to be cut off by you. “No! I do not want to hear your pitiful excuses.” Aemond scowled at you and you could see him getting angry. “That bastard dared to laugh at me. AT ME! Because of that fucking pig! I was only defending myself!” you only scoffed at that and walked towards the fireplace, further away from him. “If you had any decency you would have ignored it. But you didn’t! Instead you behaved like some peasant and started throwing insults and then began a fight”. “Jaecerys hit me first! He began the fight!” your husband defended himself but his look softened as he saw how worried you were. He kneeled before you and took your hand in his placing a kiss atop of it. “I’m sorry darling. I should’ve composed myself and ignore him. You are right. Please forgive me”. You looked at him and pulled the eyepatch off his face. “I just worry. I don’t want anything bad to happen. We should probably head back to Runestone. I think we overstayed this visit.” Aemond agreed and you decided to set back to the Vale in a couple of days.

But what you didn’t know, is that you wouldn’t be able to return to your keep, as for when you were sleeping, King Viserys drew his last breath and told his lady wife the dream of song of ice and fire, which was interpreted to put Aegon on the throne. War was on the horizont and no one was safe. Your and your family’s happiness and peace is about to become EPHEMERAL.

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A/N: My obsession with Aemond Targaryen and Ewna Mitchell reached to the point where i decided to give it a try and write something. Anyways, English is not my 1st language, so there may be some mistakes in writing. If you would like a part II of this story, please let me know in the comments. It would mean the world to me if you decided to leave a heat here ♡

[myocsfanfictions]

THE WRATH OF FIRE

House of the Dragon Fanfiction

MASTERLIST

Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and an outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair was dark but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen, and her wrath was not different from the one that burned inside the members of the House of the Dragon.

CHAPTER 1

Runestone the seat of ancient House Royce and the Bronze Kings. Ysilla descended from two lines of kings; the Royces and the greatest of them all, the dragon lords, the Targaryens.

Runestone is the seat of ancient House Royce and the Bronze Kings. Ysilla descended from two lines of kings: the Royces and the greatest of them all, the dragon lords, the Targaryens.

Ysilla’s mother was the Lady of Runestone, and her father was Prince Daemon Targaryen, the brother of Viserys Targaryen, the King of the Seven Kingdoms. Her father was never in Runestone; Ysilla knew that he had matters to attend to in King's Landing.

"Mother," she said, running to her mother, who had just come back from her hunt.

"My sweet," her lady mother greeted her, getting down from her horse.

"My egg hatched, Mother!" Ysilla said happily, unable to stay still. A strand of her streaked black and white hair fell against her face.

Her mother seemed not to like those words as she moved so that her back was facing her daughter, tending to her horse. Ysilla was only five, but she could understand that her mother had no love for dragons. Or Targaryens.

"I have to write to Father," she insisted, hoping that her mother would turn to her. He'd want to know that my egg hatched."

"Stop wanting to please him, Ysilla." The girl lowered her eyes, fixing her gaze on her feet. "He adores King's Landing more than both of us." Ysilla felt her eyes stung with tears, and to keep herself from crying, she bit her lips hard.

"I thought that he was not coming back because of the war," Ysilla said with pain in her voice. It was because she remembered that her father was fighting on the Stepstones.

"Yes," her mother answered, "It's been three years now. But there was no war before."

That was true. Ysilla had seen her father very few times, and when her uncle, the King, invited her to King's Landing, she had little memory of him.

"It is because of my hair," Ysilla muttered. He does not love me because of my hair." She knew that she was different from other Targaryens, with their long silver hair. Ysilla did not have it. She was different, and she knew it was the reason why her father never went to Runestone for a visit. But she thought that her dragon could have changed it, that maybe her father would have loved her for that.

"Look at me," her mother said sternly, but Ysilla did not move, "Look at me, Ysilla." When her mother insisted, the girl did as she was told, hoping not to cry. "You are more than him. In your veins flows the blood of the First Men. Be proud of that as you are of your dragon."

"I am proud, Mother," Ysilla complained.

"Then stop seeking your father's approval," her mother said, standing strong. You don't need him; remember this."

Ysilla lowered her eyes again, "I will."

We remember those were House Royce's words. They were strong and full of will, as her mother was.

Ysilla didn't feel strong. She felt lonely and forgotten. Her name was Targaryen, and the blood of old Valyria flowed in her veins as much as the First Men's did. But nobody cared about her, not even her own Father.

The little lady went back to her chamber, holding her tears because she knew that she was not supposed to cry. Her mother didn't want her to shed tears for her Father. Ysilla closed the wooden door with carved runes in it, sliding down until she found herself sitting on the ground.

She wanted to be strong like her lady Mother. She wanted for her to be proud of her daughter, but she missed her Father. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to hold him. And she knew that he wanted the same thing. He was only busy with the matters of King's Landing.

Suddenly, she heard a low noise and a little growl. Drying her tears, Ysilla walked towards the little cradle next to the fire. Her dragon was there. She thought the Maester was tending it.

"I don't think it is going to make it, my lady," Ysilla frowned when she heard the voice of the old man from behind the door. He was talking with her mother.

"And why's that?" Ysilla's mother said while the girl kept looking at the cradle. From where she was, she could only see the little black wings moving.

"The beast is deformed, my lady," Ysilla frowned, standing up from her position. What was the meaning of that? That was her dragon. After so long her dragon egg had finally hatched, it could not die.

She got closer, and there it was. He was as big as a cat, with dark scales and purple reflections, as purple as its eyes. It looked at her, his eyes fixed on her as if he was looking inside her soul. It was beautiful.

The little hatchling made a sound before trying to get closer. At that point, she noticed. It was struggling to do so because it was born without legs.

"We have to find a way to tell her it won't survive."

Ysilla's eyes remained fixed on the little dragon. No one believed he could survive because he was different, only because he was like her.

After a moment, the hatchlings found a way to get closer, moving more like a snake than a dragon, but he was fighting.

"You will survive," she promised, reaching out so that her fingers could brush his scales. "I'll make sure of that."

___________________________________________________________

Next 》

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[syndrossi]

Imagine au where in the Resonant universe Daemon is transported back 8 years when the twins are about to be born. What will he do? (Other than negotiate to conceal their origins). It's clear that at first he'll be into it out of sheer happiness and won't move away from them. Will he stay in Runestone or move to the capital? Will he go to war again, know how long it will take? Will he still seek Viserys' attention or will he pull away from him and focus entirely on his sons? What will he do about the future threat of Volantis? What names would he give them?

That's an interesting twist. I've considered the "AU where Rhea tells Daemon about the twins," but one where he has foreknowledge of the threat Volantis poses to them in the future (and how to avoid getting banished) hadn't occurred to me.

Rhea would have a lot more bargaining power here if Daemon wants her to claim them as her own, so she probably negotiates them being at least part-time at Runestone, and honestly, he probably feels safer with that arrangement. Rhea has the coin/resources for round-the-clock knight protection if he discloses that word of a threat from Essos/Volantis had reached him through "sources," while lacking Viserys's authority to take them away from him. He goes with them everywhere, so he'll be at Runestone when they're there.

The question arises of how to find their hatchlings' eggs. I think the ultimate action Daemon would try to take is to secure the Master of Whisperers position on the small council so he can build up contacts/spies throughout Essos but particularly Volantis.

He absolutely hunts down Crayne and kills him. Doesn't care that the man hasn't done anything yet--that's the only thing that earns him a clean death here.

Hostile AS FUCK to Allard, who has no idea why Rhea's husband hates him so much.

Names are interesting. I think he'd keep Rhaegar as Rhaegar even if he'd like the symmetry of naming them both after his father and uncle, to honor his son's original choice. He'd choose Baelon for Jon because fair's fair, he never chose a Targaryen name for himself!

Daemon would want the boys to have their due as princes of the realm, and he loves to show off his babies, so he would absolutely have a formal presentation at court for them. I could see Viserys being so delighted at the birth of twins that he's tempted to throw a tourney (while Otto's like...your own wife is currently pregnant, where's the tourney for THAT upcoming child??).

The Runestone dragon enclosure gets a LOT more use. If it's early enough, Daemon retreats with Rhea and Elys to the Royce's summer retreat (even though it's winter), super excited/anxious about the birth. I think those months might be what shift Rhea's opinion of Daemon, and certainly his behavior toward the twins after! Daemon's sudden maturity vs before as a whole probably comes as a shock to her.

The matter of the Stepstones is a thorny one, because it does need to be dealt with. Perhaps he convinces Rhaenys to join the effort, in the hopes of ending it sooner with double dragons. (He also has some plans in the current time for ending the war quickly that he could implement here, with Viserys's support, which he would be much more motivated to obtain.) Achieving a quick, decisive victory and getting the accolades of presenting the crown to Viserys without his reckless escapade with Rhaenyra, since this would be two years earlier and he knows better now, would be a nice boost to his cred with Viserys.

Ultimately, I think he's a bit wary of Viserys's interest, but since Viserys knows nothing about any special qualities, over time Daemon relaxes because his brother is behaving more like the doting uncle he'd expected him to be.

Other than that, Daemon treasures every day and memory with them. It's hard for him at first to overcome his resentment of Rhea for hiding them from him originally, but I think the icy tolerance mellows into a friendly partnership eventually. As I mentioned above, Daemon wins a lot of points with Rhea for being so fully devoted to the babies.

(The twins wake up earlier here, since I couldn't bear to "take" Daemon's sons from him when they're seven, which means the Volantis shenanigans get moved up in response, since whoever brought them here would know they've arrived. On the bright side, it means the hatchling eggs are on the way! On the not so bright side, that means baby/toddler kidnapping schemes are as well!)

[haddonfieldwhore]

ghosthunting - rhea & dom

rhea ripley x gn!reader x dominik mysterio

word count: 4k words

warnings: haunted jail, language, can be read as platonic if you want <3

despite the hot florida weather, your hands trembled slightly as the cameras started rolling. shotzi and scarlett had invited you, dominik, and rhea to be the guests on the first episode of their new ghost hunting series, Chamber of Horrors. you were excited, but also nervous about the idea of exploring a haunted jail, so you were relieved to have two of your closest companions by your side.

“hey guys,” scarlett introduced the three of you as you stood next to her and shotzi. you all greeted your two hosts, and they asked if any of you had encountered any ghosts before. dominik and rhea each shared a story, but you didn’t have one. you weren’t a sceptic, you just hadn’t experienced anything you would consider paranormal activity.

the five of you followed the tour guide inside, a few camera people following close behind as you stopped in the first room, the sheriffs office.

“you okay?” rhea whispered to you, and you nodded, smiling as you felt dom standing behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“yeah i’m good,” you assured her, as scarlett and shotzi set up their equipment in the centre of the room. they had a few rem pods, which would light up different colours and beep if something got close or touched them, and scarlett had a spiritbox on her phone that allowed spirits to communicate using white noise and radio channels.

“how many spirits are in the room right now?” she asked, and a voice on the radio replied ‘eight’. rhea scratched her shoulder nervously, and leaned into dom’s side, as scarlett and her both repeated the number out loud. another device they had could supposedly answer yes or no questions, and it lit up green, confirming the number.

“is that how many spirits were hung here?” scarlett asked, and over the radio came a short ‘yep.’ dominik laughed nervously, and you felt rhea grab your arm and pull you behind dom, sandwiching you between the two of them, not that you were complaining. it was comforting to have them in either side of you.

“oh man,” dom said, crossing his arms in front of him.

“i know it’s weird right?” scarlet laughed, and you admired how she didn’t seem scared at all.

“i don’t my brains, shot. it’s mush,” dom said, looking at you and rhea. “i’ve never experienced anything like… this is above my pay grade. i don’t know what’s going on.” he scratched the side of his head, trying to find the right words to explain how he was feeling.

“i thought we were wrestlers,” rhea joked, and you all laughed, and you mentally thanked her for being able to lighten the mood.

“yeah, let’s get out of here, i’d much rather take a power bomb right now” you played along, and rhea pretended like she was gonna walk out, grabbing your hand a dragging you a few steps towards the door.

“my eyes keep getting randomly like.. teary,” dom said, rubbing his eyes.

“yeah i keep looking around, thinking i’m seeing shit,” rhea said, glancing around the room, her hand still holding yours. scarlett and shotzi were still using the necrophone app to ask questions, when a chill ran up your spine at the words ‘come here’ on the radio.

“you heard that?” scarlett asked, and you all nodded. “are there any child spirits here?” all of the rem pods went off, lighting up and beeping at the same time, and your chest tightened. you wrapped your arms around dominiks waist, hiding your face in his shoulder as rhea, still holding your hand, was pulled towards you by your actions, and she hugged you from behind.

“i feel very warm,” dom noted, and rhea nodded.

“yeah idk if i’m sweating because i’m nervous, or because this one won’t let go of me,” rhea teased you affectionately.

“sorry,” you mumbled, but she wouldn’t let you out of her grip.

“do you guys want to ask it a question?” scarlett asked the three of you, and you all frowned, staying silent. “you’re good?” she laughed, and it got another laugh out of the room.

“yeah, this is a lot. i heard leave,” dominik suggested, and scarlett and shotzi laughed harder as he pointed to the door, but shotzi agreed that she had heard it too.

“do you want us to leave?” she asked, and the green light lit up meaning yes. you took a deep breath, and dominik made a cross sign over his chest.

“let’s go into another room,” scarlett suggested. “there’s a cold breeze behind me,” she added, and a laugh came over the radio, making shotzi giggle.

“it’s laughing at you.”

the rem pod lit up again, and you all decided it was time to move to a different room, scarlett suggesting the general population area next. as her and shotzi moved the ghost equipment, the camera man stayed with you, dominik, and rhea for a short interview.

“yeah, i mean i’m terrified. but you know… i… someone’s gotta do it,” dominik laughed nervously. “and why not, the double champs and the future, nxt champion?” he said, pointing to the three of you, and referencing your future title opportunity that was coming up.

“exactly,” rhea agreed.

•••

you stood behind dom and rhea next to where the equipment was set up outside one of the jail cells. scarlett held the necrophone in her hand, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you swore you heard a voice behind you.

“did you guys hear that?” you said, and dominik turned to look at you.

“freezing,” scarlett echoed what the voice on the radio say, and rhea wrapped her arms around herself.

“yeah, i just got the shivers,” she said to scarlett.

“what is it?” dom asked you, the only one who had heard you, and it drew the attention of the others. your throat went dry and you swallowed hard.

“i don’t know, i thought i heard someone say something behind me a second ago, just before it got cold in here,” you explained. dominiks arm snakes around your back, pulling you into his side. “you guys didn’t hear anything?” everyone shook their heads, rhea mumbling a soft ‘no’.

“would any spirits like to communicate with us?” scarlett asked, and the device lit up green for yes again. “yes, the spirits would like to communicate with us!” she smiled, and both her and shotzi raised their hands in the air. you admired the positive attitude they managed to keep throughout the night.

“my eyes just got teary again,” dominik said, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his t-shirt.

“are you okay?” rhea asked, placing a hand on his back.

“yeah i’m good,” he laughed.

“is it bringing back memories?” shotzi asked him, referencing the time he had spent in ‘jail’.

“nah, this is just.. different,” he said, and rhea put her arm over his shoulder as he stood between you and her, dom still holding you close to his side. all of the sudden, rhea flinched, scratching her shoulder next to where her mic was clipped to her shirt.

“you okay?” dom asked softly, and rhea laughed nervously.

“thought i felt something touch me,” she replied.

“why do you choose to stay here?” scarlett asked, and over the radio the voice spoke ‘lucifer’.

“lucifer!” shotzi repeated, everyone laughing as dom turned around and pretended to walk out, raising his hands up in surrender.

“there he goes,” the cameraman said, as you pulled dom back to the group.

“you’re not allowed to scare us,” shotzi reprimanded the spirits. “we know you’re not lucifer; you can’t trick us.” rhea hid her face in her hand as she curled into dom’s side, you clinging to his other arm. scarlett was explaining how the necrophone worked to the camera when dom spoke up.

“so, quick question - not to be rude,” scarlet nodded telling him to continue. “so h..how do we know it’s not like a south park episode and there’s like a big dude behind the screen, just like..putting noises or something?” and shotzi laughed.

“well i mean, it is answering our questions pretty good.. so.”

“we’ve gotten very clear photos of faces, where there shouldn’t be anything. we’ve gotten like - figures on our sls camera,” scarlett explained. suddenly you heard another noise behind you, and dom and rhea must have heard it too because they also turned around to look for the source of the sound. your knuckles had turned white from how tightly you were holding onto dominiks hand, and could feel his finger tips digging into your side.

scarlett noticed that the three of you were distracted, and dom and rhea pointed in the direction the noise had come from, and the tour guide had heard it too.

“we heard something,” dom and rhea said at the same time, and the tour guide described it as a growl.

“i don’t know what the hell it was,” you said, your voice trembling.

“you guys are not allowed to touch dom, rhea, or y/n,” scarlett scolded the ghosts. “you’re not allowed to touch any of us.”

“he asked how we do we know there’s not someone behind the scenes, i swear to you i heard a growl and it came right over there,” the tour guide said, pointing behind you. “you all heard it right?”

“yeah, yeah, yeah,” dom repeated nervously, and you and rhea agreed.

“what was that growl? who was growling?” shotzi asked.

“what that the creeper growling?” scarlett asked, getting another laugh out of everyone.

“i don’t know if it was a growl or - it was just like a ‘rahhh’,” dom scratched the back of his neck as he imitated the noise you had heard.

“you heard another noise?” the tour guide asked.

“no no no, when we all heard it just now,” he clarified, and rhea stole you from his grip as she nervously fiddled with her necklaces.

“i just saw something over there,” scarlett said, pointing at where the noise had come from. “there was something over there, what was that? i saw a light go through.”

your were starting to feel a little overwhelmed, and you turned around, closing your eyes and burying your face in the crook of rheas neck, her arms wrapping around you. you instantly felt safer as dominik noticed the two of you, and hugged you both in his arms, gently stroking the back of your head with his tattooed hand.

“are you okay?” rhea asked, and you nodded against her collarbone.

“i just need a minute,” you admitted, and dom squeezed you and rhea tighter.

“you’re okay, we’ve got you,” he mumbled. when you felt like you could breathe again, you mumbled a soft ‘ok’, and they let you out of the cage they had made around you with their arms, but they each still held one of your hands.

•••

shotzi and scarlett were now sitting in one of the cells, and dom and rhea stood outside it. you had taken a step back for a moment, just looking over the shoulder of the camera man. dom seemed nervous as you heard scarlett say to shotzi that there was definitely a ghost in the cell with her, and the offered her hand for him to hold, which he took. suddenly shotzi yelled out in shock, and stood up off the bed.

“what! what just happened. are you okay?” scarlett asked, concerned. “wait wait, are you okay? what happened?”

“i’m fine, i just felt the bed shake,” shotzi said, laughing, and dom and rhea clung to each other.

“oh god.”

“i’m not going over,” rhea laughed, content with staying far away from the cell.

“can you not scare my friend, please?” scarlett asked.

“no, it’s okay, i allow you to touch me,” shotzi offered.

“why would you say you want it to touch you?” scar laughed.

“but respectfully! like don’t hurt me but a little,” she tapped her shoulder to demonstrate.

“i would not like to be touched,” dominik said.

“please do not touch me,” rhea agreed.

“i feel like i’m scared, but i just don’t know what going on, like-“ dom was interrupted by scarlett yelling to him and rhea.

“do you want to come in here with us?”

“nah, i’m cool,” he smiled, and the girls laughed.

the laughter had lightened the mood once again, and you had calmed down, deciding that you were ready to get back on camera. you snuck behind the camera man to head back over to dom and rhea when suddenly, you felt a stinging sensation on for back. dominik smiled as you approached him, but his face dropped when he saw the concerned look on your face.

“what’s wrong, did you hear something?” rhea asked.

“no, i thought i felt something on my back though,” you replied, trying to feel for the spot with your hand.

“want me to look?” dom asked, and you nodded, turning around so he could see if he could see anything. his hands were warm on your skin despite the chill in the room, and he rolled your shirt up slightly, and you heard rhea gasp.

“what? what is it?” you panicked, and went to turn around, but felt her manicured hand touch your back.

“wait wait wait. let me take a picture so i can show you,” she said.

“what the fuck, guys,” dom muttered, and your heart pounded in your chest. dom let you turn around, but his hands remained on your hips as rhea showed you her phone, on it a photo of a scratch on your back, about four inches long.

“what…. how did i get that?” you stuttered, and scarlett and shotzi noticed the commotion and came over.

“what happened?” scarlet asked, concern in her voice as she placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. your eyes were wide and you couldn’t form words as rhea showed her and shotzi the picture.

“oh my god, how did that happen? guys?” shotzi asked, covering her mouth in shock.

“i don’t know, maybe i bumped into something,” you mumbled, trying to rationalize; it was possible you could have, but wouldn’t you remember it?

“are you okay to keep going?” scarlett asked, and despite the sinking feeling in your stomach, you nodded. dom and rhea clung to either side of you again, and you were grateful that they refused to let go of you. scarlett and shotzi had gone back into the cell, and called for the three of you left outside to come join them.

“come sit with us,” dominik said, and him and rhea pulled you to sit just outside the cell door with them; none of you interested in actually going inside.

“come in, you guys. we’ll scooch over, there’s room for everybody,” shotzi invited.

“i’m good here,” dom said, and the two in the cell continued asking the spirits questions as you rested your head on dom’s shoulder, rhea doing the same to yours.

shotzi offered her hand for the spirit to touch as she and scarlett were talking about the boo bear, another device of theirs that was going off.

“are you sure you’re okay?” rhea whispered next to your ear.

“i think so,” you replied. “or i’m just blocking it out.”

“am i on video?” shotzi repeated what the spirit had said. “yes you are, and we want to tell your story,” she explained, before the radio said dom’s name. you felt his body tense against you, and you and rhea both held onto his hand.

scarlett suggested going to visit the isolation wing, and once again as they went to set up the equipment, the camera man interviewed you, dom, and rhea.

“i’ve never done anything like this, so this is my first time experiencing..like… this sort of like.. energy wise?” dom tried to explain.

“yeah, especially going into it and expecting something,” rhea added.

“yeah like, knowing… there’s just a lot of beeping going on,” dom said, gesturing with his hands. “i don’t know - we heard our names, and then y/n got that weird scratch…”

“can we show the camera?” rhea asked, and you nodded, turning around to let her lift up the bottom of your shirt.

“it got cold before too - and hot,” rhea continued recounting everything that had happened so far.

“yeah i’ve been going through like a mixture, but again, that’s probably just me cause i’m nervous, and scared. so like my body’s probably just fluctuating with all sorts of temperatures,” he raised his hand up and down to demonstrate. “but i don’t know, this is all very interesting, but fun in a very new way.”

“yes,” rhea agreed.

“except the maybe getting scratched by a ghost part,” you added, and they both laughed.

“except for that,” dom clarified.

•••

“to the wardens room!” shotzi exclained as dom went first into your next location, a quick pit stop on the way to isolation. he jumped slightly, getting scared by a coat rack as he turned on the light. you and rhea laughed at him as he held his chest, taking a deep breath as you all walked into the room.

“do you feel the heaviness in here?” scarlett asked.

“wow, it is - woooah. oh my goodness,” shotzi agreed, and you could also feel a weight in the air.

“it is very heavy,” dom said, and rhea expressed how warm it was in the room.

“it’s hard to breathe in here,” shotzi added.

“yeah a bit actually,” rhea replied, and you nodded.

the rem pod in the ground started freaking out, and scarlett asked who was touching it, when a voice over the radio clearly said ‘find my body’.

“where are you?” rhea asked.

“don’t,” dom whispered to rhea, either not wanting her to interact with the ghosts, or not wanting to go looking for a body. she smiled, pulling him close to her as scarlett asked more questions, before she held her forehead, complaining of head pressure.

“yeah my face is tingling,” rhea said, holding either side of her face in her hands.

“my head hurts too,” you agreed.

“if you can touch one of the rem pods we’ll leave this room, scar offered, and a voice on the radio replied with ‘want us to leave’. the rem pod lit up, and scarlett and rhea both mentioned how it had gotten even hotter in the room.

“yeah my foreheads a little hot,” dom replied, rhea once again resting her head in his shoulder.

“i just got cold; it’s like a total fluctuation,” the camera man added.

“i think we should try downstairs,” scarlett suggested, and you all moved to solitary confinement. you tugged on dominiks hand and gave him a look that thankfully he understood.

“we’ll let you guys handle business, ya know?” dom said, getting the message that you had had enough.

a brief stop in the women’s wing had left you and dom standing outside a cell while rhea sat inside.

“are you sitting next to rhea?” shotzi asked.

“are you on the bed?” rhea asked when no reply came. a voice said ‘move’, and rhea asked if it wanted her to get if the bed, to which it replied ‘do’. rhea raised her hands in surrender and you leaned against the wall, letting your eyes close as your head fell back. as much as you had surprisingly enjoyed yourself, you were just about at your limit for being scared for one night.

“fam, ima listen to you,” rhea clapped her hands together as she stood up, more than happy to get out of the cell. “you call the shots; it’s your bed, bruh.”

scarlett complained of a smell that the tour guide explained was sulphur, and shotzi mentioned that sulphur meant demons.

“yeah, i’m gonna go outside,” dom joked, getting another laugh out of everyone. “yeah that’s uh... that’s where your boy dom.. dirty dom-“ he stopped when you, him, and rhea all heard a noise coming from a cell down the hall behind you.

“i heard that too,” she assured him, and you nodded.

“right?” dom asked. “is there anyone over there?” he asked, pointing the the direction the sound had come from.

“no, we’re all in here,” the tour guide replied.

“i just heard footsteps,” dom said, as him and rhea tried to see if anything was over there.

“dom has crazy hearing,” shotzi commented, before over the radio a voice said ‘she’s coming’.

you stepped away again, dominik following after you as you stepped out of view of the camera.

“are you okay?” he asked, and you nodded. “you can tell me the truth.”

“it’s just a lot,” you admitted, and pulled you into a hug. rhea looked over, concern in her face, but dom gave her a thumbs up to let her know you were alright.

“we’re leaving soon. i think i’ve had enough for one night, too,” he said kissing the side of your head before the two of you walked back over to rhea. she held your face gently in her hands and you nodded to let her know you were ok.

you were pretty checked out by this point, blocking most of the sounds out as scarlett’s phone starting acting wierd, and her and shotzi talked to a spirit in the solitary confinement cell.

“we can watch a movie or something fun when we get back to the hotel, okay?” rhea suggested, holding your hand once again. you nodded, still not completely present. “maybe paranormal activity?” she joked, and you focused on her again, slapping her shoulder lightly as her and dom laughed. “kidding!” she pleaded. she got a wierd look on her face, and dom stood in front of her.

“what is it?” he asked.

“i had like -“ she gestured to her neck with her hand. “my throat got like.. clogged. and then it got really warm and then like rushed to my head. it freaked me out,” she explained.

the five of you decided that that was enough ghost hunting, and shotzi and scarlet gathered their equipment while you stood with dom and rhea as they filmed an outro.

“yeah i’m ready to get out,” dom said, and rhea laughed nervously, muttering a soft ‘please’.

“you wanna use that big light of yours and guide us out of here? good sir, please and thank you?”

you filmed another short outro all together outside the jail, before the three of you said goodnight to shotzi and scarlett and the crew, thanking them for having you on their show. an uber had arrived to take you back to your hotel, and the three of you sat in the backseat, you in the middle as you curled into dominiks side, happy to have made it out in one piece, and ready to go to bed.

•••

rhea shook you awake as you pulled up the hotel, and you rubbed your eyes as you sat up. dominik had also fallen asleep, his head resting on top of yours, and he sat up at the feeling of you moving.

“we’re here, sleepyheads,” rhea laughed, and you all got out and headed up to the hotel room you were sharing. you kicked off your shoes, and got changed into your pyjamas, before immediately getting under the covers, pulling them high up under your chin. rhea laughed at you, before she sat down on the other bed.

“guys?” you said softly.

“yeah?” dom replied, taking off his t-shirt, leaving him in a black tank top, his gold chain reflecting in the low light from the lamp on the nightstand.

“can you come here?” you asked, and they both laughed, rhea jumping on top of you and pulling you into her arms. dominik laid on the other side of you, and you became trapped between them.

“if i have nightmares tonight i’m blaming shotzi and scarlett,” you said.

“don’t worry. we’ll protect you,” rhea promised, getting under the blankets, her legs tangling with yours and dominiks, becoming a mess of limbs.

“goodnight you guys,” dom mumbled, already half asleep as he kissed the side of your head, reaching out and entwining his hand with rheas.

“goodnight,” you murmured, before drifting off to sleep, safe in the arms of your two favourite people.

[nixiefics]

Fire and Runes - Prologue

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x OC (Reilla)

Tropes: Arranged Marriage

Warnings: Targaryen typical incest, smut, canon typical violence and death, swearing, drinking

Daemon Targaryen stood in the dimly lit chamber of his quarters, his hands clenched into fists as he read the letter laid out before him. The candlelight flickered ominously, casting shadows that seemed to dance mockingly around him.

Your Highness,

It is with great sorrow that we received the news of the tragic passing of Lady Rhea Royce. It saddens me that she met her untimely end in a hunting accident, something she was so passionate about. Our hearts mourn her loss, and we extend our deepest condolences to you in this time of grief.

Regards, Viserys I Targaryen

King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm

Daemon's violet eyes narrowed with cold calculation as he absorbed the words. Rhea's death had been no accident; he had orchestrated it with meticulous precision to sever the ties that bound him to a woman he detested. The marriage had been a political alliance, one he had never wished for and had sought to dissolve by any means necessary.

There was no room for guilt in Daemon's heart. Only a chilling resolve and a sense of relief that his scheme had succeeded. Before he could ponder further, a soft knock at the door broke the silence. "Enter," Daemon commanded, his voice betraying none of the turmoil raging within.

Ser Gerold Royce, nephew of Rhea and harbouring deep-seated animosity towards Daemon, stepped into the room, his expression sombre yet tinged with a hint of satisfaction. "Daemon," Gerold began carefully, "We heard that you received a raven from the King and I have come with glad news."

Daemon regarded Gerold with a steely gaze. "Speak," he commanded, his tone brooking no hesitation.

Gerold hesitated briefly, then continued with calculated intent. "Rhea bore you a daughter, Daemon. Before her untimely demise."

Daemon's jaw clenched involuntarily, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. Rhea's child.

Daemon's mind raced, his thoughts a tumultuous storm of disdain and apprehension. A child would solidify the marriage in the eyes of the court, tethering him to Rhea's memory in ways he abhorred; something he had not accounted for when he had conceded to share her bed nine months earlier, as he had always thought her barren.

Gerold's voice carried a hint of glee as he continued, knowing the impact of his words. "House Royce has made preparations to foster the child in the Vale until the time is right. She is already betrothed, by the agreement between House Royce and King Viserys, to marry young Aegon Targaryen when the time comes."

"I need to see her," Daemon stated tersely, his voice betraying none of the turmoil raging within. "Bring her to me, Gerold. She is mine to acknowledge, if only to ensure she is truly mine."

Gerold's eyes sparked at having unsettled Daemon, yet he maintained his composure. Daemon's implication of Rhea's infidelity would not stand. "I'm afraid that won't be possible, Daemon. She was born healthy with a head of thick, silver hair and her eyes already tinge lavender. Reilla is now a ward of House Royce, and she will remain in the Vale until she is of age."

Rage flared within Daemon, his control slipping. With a swift, furious motion, he swept a glass off the table, shattering it against the stone wall. "You dare defy me, Royce?" he hissed, his voice a dangerous whisper.

Gerold stood firm, his satisfaction evident despite Daemon's outburst. "She is under our protection, and it will remain that way. You will not lay a hand on her."

Daemon's eyes blazed with fury, but he knew better than to push further in this moment. With a final glare at Gerold, he stormed out of the room, his mind a seething vortex of anger and resentment.

Outside, the air was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the storm within him. Without a second thought, he made his way to where Caraxes awaited. The dragon's crimson scales glinted in the moonlight as it sensed its rider's agitation.

Daemon mounted Caraxes, the dragon's powerful muscles tensing beneath him. With a mighty roar, Caraxes took to the sky, wings beating against the night air. As they soared over the Vale, Daemon's thoughts turned to Reilla, the daughter he could not reach.

[omgkatherine01]

Fire Of the Dragon: Prologue

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem! Targaryen reader

Please comment, like and share ❤

Prince Daemon Targaryen had always hated being wed to Rhea Royce of Runestone. He had never wanted to, but he had been forced to by his brother and King; King Viserys. It had been years before they even consummated their marriage.

Daemon had no intention of having children. He wasn't much found of them.

Until nearly 10 years later in their marriage something happened.

Daemon had been exiled away from King's Landing up and down to the Vale, to be with his lawful wife, but never had he been with her like he should until Viserys had angered him so much.

It had been shortly after the end of the Battle of the Stepstones, when Daemon had been sent away, he had gone to the Vale and vented. Rhea had taunted him again, drinking alongside her husband for the first time in years, until they flew at each other and finally consummated their marriage.

Daemon had been too drunk to even remember and Rhea had not cared much, she had found pleasure when she needed it, but she had never expected the one time she laid with Daemon, she would conceive a child.

Daemon was surprised when she told him. He didn't believe her that it was his, thinking maybe she had slept with someone else.

But he was still there.

And when Rhea gave birth to a girl...

His life changed completely when he first held her.

The babe had the violet eyes of House Targaryen and silver hair.

For the first time, Daemon felt obsoletely happiness.

Visenya.

That was the name he gave her. And for the first time, Rhea agreed with the name.

King Viserys had been happy of the news that Daemon finally consummated his marriage and had a trueborn child, but Otto Hightower had advised the King to let the daughter be raised by her mother or Daemon would turn her into another Visenya.

However, Daemon had hardly let Visenya out of his sight.

He was protective of her and the fear that if she wasn't by his side, something could happen to her and he wouldn't be there to protect her in time. For the first time in his life, he had someone he was willing to die for.

When she was three moons old, Daemon introduced her to his dragon, Caraxes. He was worried she may start crying of seeing a big dragon, but he was delighted when she just smiled and tried to reach the big beast.

Despite Rhea's protests, Daemon had flown with Visenya in his arms to Dragonstone and stolen an egg from the Dragonmont for her.

A year after the birth of the child, and a year after the Stepstones, Viserys had send a word to Daemon, offering peace and a place for Princess Visenya in the court, she'd grow up between the 3-year-old Aegon and the near 1 year-old Helaena.

Against the wishes of Rhea, Daemon had taken his daughter with him to King's Landing. Visenya had still been without a dragon, the egg he stole never hatched but instead of blaming his child or even the egg, Daemon blamed the 'hostile environment' of the Vale.

Daemon's niece, Princess Rhaenyra didn't seem to like how much her father and uncle had been so found of her baby cousin, she tried to get Daemon's attention during his stay, but he had preferred to spend his time with his daughter and show her the Keep.

But Daemon, and his usual schemes messed up when he took Rhaenyra to Flea Bottom down the Street of Silk later on.

Daemon had wished to wed Rhaenyra, but Viserys would not hear a word of it. He demanded Daemon go back to the Vale, to be with his true wife, and his daughter. But Daemon didn't like being told what to do. He had taken Visenya to Dragonstone and left her there with a trusting friend, and he flown back to the Vale on the back of Caraxes.

"Good morrow, Lady Rhea."

Rhea, who had tried to be used to be without her daughter for a moment, had decided to hunt in the mountains in the Vale, but stopped when she met up with her cousin, Gerold Royce.

She gave him a small nod, "Cousin."

Gerold knew how much Rhea missed her daughter, they all missed her, and hoped that Daemon will return back with her soon. So when Gerlod saw his cousin riding on her white horse with bow and arrow, he was happy that she decided to go outside to hunt whiles waiting for her daughter to return to her.

He give her a smile, "What's today's quarry? Rabbit?"

"Deer."

Gerlod raised his eyebrows, "Oh. Fine challenge." Rhea had to smirk at his teasing. "Care for some company?"

Rhea sighed softly and shook her head lightly, "I'd rather ride alone."

Gerlod nodded lightly before he gave her a soft smile, "We all miss her."

Rhea looked at him and gave him a sad small smile before looking up the hills. "I..." she started and let out a breath, "I am planning on taking Visenya up the mountains when she'll return. Show her the beauty of the Vale."

Gerlod nodded with a smile, "Sounds like a good idea. Some mother daughter bonding. Before you'll know it, she'll be riding a horse and will become a skilled hunter."

For the first time in a while, Rhea laughed. "Yes," she agreed. "I shall return soon."

Gerlod nodded with a smile and watched her riding off.

She did often went alone, everyone knew she could handle it. And she was a good and skilled hunter, and excellent rider. But when she was on her way back, she saw a hooded figure await her.

Rhea tilted her head when she saw it was Daemon approaching her. "Husband. Where is Visenya?"

Daemon tilted his head, "She is fine," he spoke, "She is somewhere safe."

Rhea didn't like how he kept taking her daughter away, hardly letting her spend with her. So she decided to taunt him, "Has your brother has at last had his fill of your company?" Rhea had never been afraid of Daemon, he had not been intimidating enough for her to be intimidated by, perhaps Caraxes was but the dragon wasn't here. "Cast you aside in favor of a little girl. That will be something to tell our daughter, wouldn't it?"

Daemon didn't speak a word and appeached closer. "What are you going to do now?" she asked but Daemon still didn't speak as her horse became a little uneasy. She looked down at her horse and back at Daemon. He kept stepping closer. "Where is my daughter?"

Rhea grew annoyed and angry by his silence, and her hand inching to her bow, but Daemon was faster. He took a sudden step forward, scaring the horse who stood on his hindlegs and threw Rhea off his back.

Her neck hit a rock, paralyzing her from the neck down. Daemon looked at her as her horse ran off. He stared at her for a moment before he turned around, planning on letting her die where she lay.

"I knew it," Rhea said, mocking him, even as she laid paralyzed and he stopped and turn to her. "You are nothing more than a coward. I pray to the Gods our daughter takes after me, if she takes after you, she'd be hopeless in this world."

Daemon grinded his teeth, picking up another rock before walking back to Rhea. "You are wrong, dear wife," he taunted her but his voice was deep and restraint from the anger he felt, "She is my daughter, she is the blood of the dragon, and you shall not insult her."

"She is my daughter, a daughter of Runestone," Rhea said, "It won't matter them that she has silver hair, they will not let you take her. They will fight for her."

"Then they can try fight Caraxes, but gēlion zaldrīzes is mine," Daemon said before hitting the rock against her temple making it look like an accident before he walked away to find Caraxes. Silver dragon.

He had flown back to Dragonstone to take his daughter back to King's landing, in time for Princess Rhaenyra's wedding to Ser Laenor Velaryon. At the wedding, he met Rhea's cousin, Gerlod, who believed it was Daemon who killed Visenya's mother, and demanded him to return Visenya to the Vale where she was belong.

Daemon had refused it, and ignored him during the wedding. He had offered himself to Rhaenyra as a potential husband, but Rhaenyra had declined, and Daemon had left the wedding with Visenya before it went downhill.

He stayed in King's Landing for a short while, until he had planned to wed the Lady Laena Velaryon.

[daenysthedreamer101]

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!

[randomnameless]

Fighting mercenaries is one thing, but going against Sir Alois just feels wrong. He's so good-natured, and his terrible jokes always make people laugh. Well, at least a few of the knights got a kick out of them. Anyway, we all thought he was a swell guy. I can't believe things have turned out this way.  

(From a KoS in chapter 12 of AG)

I know random, I know :(

I too can’t believe things have turned out this way, but KT thought “Jerry <3″ was Alois’s only character, erasing everything else, and here goes.

But I still like how this random knight, even if Alois is their enemy and nothing more than a foolish merc, is still a “Sir” and appreciated for what he did during his tenure at Garreg Mach.

Pour one for Billy’n’Alois, they need to be removed from Jerry’s influence to develop lol

[integra1127grimmreaper]

His Warrior Princess - Part eighteen

Series Masterlist

Part 17

Warning: swearing, smut

"Fuck... at the rate we are going, you are going to be fully round by time we take our oath..." Harwin grunts out, his body fully encasing yours as he takes you from behind.

"As if I give a damn..." you groan out, your head almost curling into your chest after an extremely hard thrust.

"Fuck, Har..."

"Always taking me so well, Love" Harwin bits into your shoulder with a deep groan.

"Tight cunt squeezing the life out of me... Cannot wait for all to know that you are mine."

"Neither can I..." you whimper, hips rocking backward to meet his thrusts.

While Harwin and you dreamt of the future ahead, your father and sister where away at Driftwood to secure an alliance with Lords Corlys.

"Your Grace" Lord Corlys rises from his seat to greet the King, stepping closer to kneel before him then.

Before the King could utter a word, a harsh cough escapes his lips, resulting in Corlys silently eyeing him from below. Turning slightly, the King sends Lord Stong silent stare, "rise, Lord Corlys" he instructs turning back.

Corlys rises, spreading his arms wide, "be welcomed... may I offer you a chair..." he pauses when the sound of a door opening is heard, and all turns to the direction of it.

"Cousin...!" Princess Rhaenys enters.

"Princess..." the King smiles in greeting. The smile drops from both their faces when Rhaenys takes hold of his hand.

"Are you well?" Rhaenys stares at him in concern at noticing a lack of fingers.

"Very..." the King awkwardly responds.

"I congratulate you, Lord Lyonel..." Corlys chances the topic then. "I can think of no man more suited to be the Hand of the King."

"That is very kind of you to say, Lord Corlys" Lyonel responds with a faint smile, "His Grace has honored me with the post."

"Pity about, Sir Otto..." Corlys remarks then. The King ignores it, scanning his surroundings and changing the topic.

"Despite spending most of my days amidst the grandeurs of the Red Keep, the halls of Hide Tide never fail to impress."

"You flatter me, Your Grace" Corlys comments, "though I do wish we could meet under happier pretenses."

The King's head faintly bods about in confusion, "how so?"

"Daemon's wife, the Lady Rhea Royce... has passed" Corlys replies, and the King is silently taken aback.

"A hunting mishap" Rhaenys utters out in comment, the King turns his attention toward her then. "She was thrown from her horse. Her neck and skull, both crushed in the fall."

"A most surprising end" Corlys remarks as the King shoots Lyonel a knowing look, "Lady Rhea's skill as both hunter and rider were well known."

"The Gods are cruel..." Rhaenys remarks.

"Indeed..." the King responds, "Lady Rhea was a fine woman and a... good wife to my brother."

"Sad thing that she and Daemon had no heirs to succeed her" Rhaenys comments, "she stood to inherit Runestone."

"Mayhaps we can turn toward happier pursuits" the King instantly changes the topic.

"What did you have in mind, Your Grace?" Corlys enquires.

A cough slips out yet again as the King takes a deep breath of air, "I wish to propose a marriage between your son, Ser Laenor and my daughter and heir, the Princess Rhaenyra. It is long past time our houses united in blood... the last pillars of Old Valyria."

"You honor both me and my house, Your Grace..." Corlys responds, silently shooting his wife a look then, "there certain details I wished clarified... before the Princess Rhaenys and I could accept this most... generous proposal."

A bit annoyed and with pursed lips, the King nods, "what details?"

"We would like to know how the succession... will be handled?" Corlys responds.

The King remains silent for a second, uttering out then, "Rhaenyra is my heir... Upon my death... my throne and my titles will pass to her. She and Ser Laenor's first born child, regardless of gender; will inherit the Iron Throne from her..."

Lord Corlys is silent for second to take all the information in, speaking up then, "can I presume that... in keeping with Westerosi tradition; their children would take their father's name? That they would be born... Velaryon's?"

The King stares at him bemused, "surely, Lord Corlys... you are not proposing the Targaryen dynasty ends with my daughter, simply because she is a woman?"

"I only seek clarity, Your Grace" Corlys politely responds. The King breaks out in a long fit of coughs, resulting in all to rush to his aid. He brushes them off, taking a sold breath then.

"Upon their birth, Ser Laenor and Rhaenyra's children shall take their father's name, Velaryon... in keeping with our traditions. However, when such time when their first born ascends the Iron Throne... he or she will do so bearing the name, Targaryen. Dragons will rule the Seven Kingdoms for the next hundred years, just as they did the last..."

Corlys and Rhaenys remain silently as they take a moment to contemplate, "this is an equitable compromise" Corlys responds in agreement.

"Good" the King remarks, nodding at them both in agreement and making his leave with Lord Lyonel accompanying.

After your rendezvous with Harwin, you decided to have a walk around the Godswood and that was you noticed Alicent speaking with Larys Strong. They both seemed deeply invested in the conversation; Alicent looked as if she had struck in the gut, whilst Larys had a faint smugness to his features.

Waiting for Alicent to leave, you finally make your presence known to Larys.

"Your Highness..." Larys gasps out in surprise, "beg my pardon for I did not see you."

"Lord Larys..." you acknowledge him through narrowed gaze, "I see that you and the queen seem rather conversable. What may I ask were you two discussing?"

"We were merely conversing over the garden, Your Highness" Larys remarks with a tight smile.

"How lovely" you remark, forcing your face into a spurious smile, "mayhaps, you and I shall converse over the garden as well?"

Larys' eyes blink rapidly in response to your words, finally bowing his head in agreement, "it would be an honor, Your Highness."

"I am sure it shall be" you respond through squinted eyes and with the smile still plastered on your face. "As you were, Lord Larys..." you dismiss him from your presence.

You silently scrutinize Larys' departing figure, "I shall have to keep a close watch on that one."

While you pondered on the character of your future brother by law, your sister was having difficulty with keeping her lover appeased; something would result in disastrous events to come. 

Part 19

Tag:  @missusnora@alexandra-001@green-lxght@stitchattacks@evyiione@squidscottjeans @noirrose21-blog

[lsdoiphin]

Hares, as you may already know if you've been following my better half @broncoburro or @forevergoldgame (if you're following neither, you're missing huge amounts of context for the setting!), are nothing like the hares of the real world. They are massive leporids from Northern Vestur and one of the few meurian animals remaining after a historic event known as the Great Hunt where humans wiped out most of the planet's remaining meurian species in order to harvest their meur for relics about 350~ish years ago. They are obligate carnivores and known to hunt humans when the opportunity arises.

The baku is a large, lumbering omnivore with a similar ecological niche somewhere between a panda and a regular bear. They're a rare species, endemic to a single far-flung region of the world, having only just barely escaped extinction. See, while the Great Hunt was headed and funded by the Tri-Kingdom, its reach spanned the entire known world - but the further from Vestur it travelled, the less discriminatory the hunts became. The local peoples who were paid to hunt on the Tri-Kingdom's behalf had little idea of what meur was and what meurian animals were actually useful, leading to mass to mass culling of "useless" meur-touched animals like the baku, whose unusual sleep-inducing abilities cannot be wielded by humans. Regardless of their uselessness, the damage had been done to the species, and only the mundane offshoot survives - though rumors persist about meurian baku.

Sphinxes are scavengers that can be found across the deserts and savannas of the mainland. Unlike their meurian cousin, the manticore, they never evolved meurian flame breath, and their 'stinger' is no more than a vestigial sickle buried beneath the fur of their flowing tails. Instead, they specialized further into human mimicry, using their ability to copy human speech to hunt domesticated animals, naive children, and drunkards.

Now you might be thinking: "why would a teenage girl want to own any of these as pets? None of these sound like animals that should be pets." Well, first off: you'd be hard pressed to find a young girl that doesn't want a wolf or a tiger as a pet, that's just how they are, c'mon.

Second, there are three primary reasons Rhea thinks this is a more realistic idea than it is:

Exotic "pet" owners among the upper class: While exotic pet ownership isn't big in Vestur as a whole, it has a notable presence among the Southern upper class, both noble and common. Rhea is the duchess of the Southern Kingdom so she is well aware of every instance of somebody paying excessive amounts of guilder to import something they shouldn't and stick it in their courtyard. As I've mentioned before, this is a sin Ancha is guilty of, having gotten swept up in a past "teacup baku" craze/scam some 4 decades ago. Unlike her peers, however, she kept her baku, Fig, even after he outgrew his alleged "adult size" of 1'9" at the withers. Others culled theirs once they became large enough to cause mass property damage. Ancha knows Fig is a massive, terrifying wild animal and does not recommend anyone repeat her mistake, but being raised in captivity he cannot be returned to the wild and so she's committed to caring for him for as long of his estimated 70~ish year lifespan that she's here for.

Haretouched Northerners: The "haretouched" is a strange phenomenon that exists in the North. Now, we haven't posted a formal explanation of what exactly being haretouched means yet - I'll save that explanation for Dan to write at a later date. In the meantime, to very briefly summarize what it means: occasionally, a hare will bond with a specific human. Those who have bonded to a hare are said to be "haretouched" - or more bluntly, cursed. The haretouched are treated as pariahs by broader society, though they are begrudgingly tolerated in the North itself and destigmatized by Northern nomad clans. While Northern nobility has done its best to keep the haretouched out of their bloodlines (save for the Lord of the Nomads, who is seldom acknolwedged, much less counted), occasionally a fluke will occur regardless and you end up with someone like Quincy or Lamonte. Rhea, of course, is just a Southern bystander who thinks the idea of having a murder-bunny for a friend would kick ass.

Captive beasts performing in circuses: Self-explanatory. Sphinxes especially are a popular choice for exploitative entertainment because of their mimicry abilities, and are often trained to have "conversations" or "sing."

[vassia-sparta]

Daemon Soulmate AU - How the bond was discovered - Part 1

So sorry it took this long to get this out, but I had originally intended to keep this short. However, inspiration turned this into a long fic, so I'll be cutting it into parts. I have not finished it yet, but I intend it to have three parts.

Before you met your soulmate, you would have never expected to become the wife of a Targaryen prince. Being the daughter of a minor lord from the Riverlands, you were expected to marry according to your station. House Bracken, or maybe Blackwood, or even Tully, if you could ever be that lucky. Any of those would be great for you.

However, your father, being an ambitious man, took you with him to the capital, hoping you’d catch the eye of a powerful lord, bringing glory and prestige to your house with such a successful match. He made sure you were dressed in modest, yet attractive dresses and a few delicate jewelry, and he instructed you to be within sight of any prospective heirs, either walking up and down the hallways of the Red Keep, or standing close to the courtyard where the knights trained.

You did as he instructed, and you even managed to catch the eye of lord Borros Baratheon, which pleased your father greatly. You future seemed to be set in stone, and you had even tried to make your peace with it. Growing up you had dreamed of marrying for love, finding that one man who would look at you as if you were his entire world. You now knew of course that such thoughts were foolish dreams, so you compromised. After all, most girls would give up almost everything to become the wife of the lord of Storm’s End.

The day of the tourney organized to celebrate Queen Alicent’s nameday dawned, and you got dressed in your best dress, a violet one with silver flowers embroidered on the sleeves and hem. It was your favorite color ever since you could remember, so you chose it to make sure you made a good impression on lord Borros. He was going to compete in the tourney, so maybe if he won, he would crown you his Queen of Love and Beauty, which was as good as a proposal, according to your father.

You sat in the lower seats, closer to the tourney grounds, eager to see the fights. Most girls were quite squeamish, but not you. You longed to see these brave men compete against each other, like those you had read about in your books. There was even a rumor that prince Daemon, the King’s brother, would compete as well. Everyone at court spoke of him, of his rogue and wild ways. But they also spoke of his flirty nature, and his teasing of every pretty maiden he came across. Recently widowed, after his late wife died in a hunting accident not three moons past, he became the target of every unmarried maiden in court. Your father had warned you to stay away from him though, as it was known how he had disrespected the late lady Rhea Royce during their marriage. There were even rumors that he had not even consummated the marriage, preferring the company of whores. Still, you were curious to see the famous man in person.

The matches began, and they were nothing like you expected. You were not prepared for the brutality of the hits, or the scent of blood that filled the arena every time some unfortunate man got badly wounded. Three men died before midday, yet the people cheered even harder every time the horses clashed. You were starting to reconsider on your opinion of these tourneys.

The next match was announced, and you held your breath. Lord Borros was going to compete against prince Daemon. First lord Borros entered the arena, and he rode his horse up to where you sat, dressed in his shining armor, his helmet in the shape of a stag’s head, complete with antlers.

“My lady, may I have the honor of carrying your favor today, so that I may be victorious in this difficult fight?”

You gave him the wreath you had made with a soft smile, and he even kissed it in front of everyone before he made his way to his corner. You knew that you should have felt something when he did that, but there was nothing. Your heart didn’t beat any faster, your cheeks didn’t heat up, absolutely no reaction. As if your body and mind knew that this man was not the one for you. You shook your head, trying to get such silly notions out of your head. You barely knew lord Borros. In time, you would come to love him. At least, you hoped you would.

Prince Daemon entered the arena, clad in his black armor. His helmet, shaped in the head of a dragon, covered his entire face, leaving only his eyes out. The people cheered for him so loud, it was deafening. He was truly the prince of the city, as you had heard some whisper. People loved their King, but they adored their prince.

He didn’t ask for any lady’s favor, only sat on his magnificent black stallion at the opposite side from lord Borros, the beast eager to jump ahead. The squires gave the lances to the two men, and the match began. The two horses raced towards each other, the lances lowering to hit the opponent. The impact was deafening, prince Daemon’s lance shattering against lord Borros’s shield. The storm lord still sat on his horse however, and when he reached the end of the arena he turned his horse around, then set off to attack the prince once more.

The second run was not much different. Prince Daemon’s lance found its mark once more, only this time it was with enough force to knock lord Borros off his horse, sending him to crash on the dirt. The crowds cheered for their prince, while the announcer declared prince Daemon winner of the joust.

Lord Borros got up on his feet, swaying a little, unsteady.

“Warhammer!” he yelled, his squire hurrying to give him the mighty weapon.

“Lord Borros wishes to continue in a contest of arms!” the announcer declared, and the crowd cheered anew.

Of course they would want to see more of this, you thought. The people always thirsted for bloodshed, as long as they could observe from a safe distance.

The dragon prince got off his horse and called for his sword. You had never seen the famous Dark Sister before. It was beautiful. He grabbed it and made his way towards lord Borros, twirling the valyrian steel blade in his hand.

The two men came together in the middle of the field, the clang of their weapons echoing all over the arena. Lord Borros fought angrily, swinging the warhammer at prince Daemon, but the other man was too quick for him. The dragon dodged all the attacks, delivering blows to the storm lord’s sides. At one point, lord Borros almost managed to crush the prince with a blow on his shield, but the hammer lodged into the wood, and the two men wrestled, trying to separate, with little success. Prince Daemon saw an opportunity and kicked Lord Borros’s feet from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. The storm lord lost his grip on his hammer and, before he could grab it once more, the dragon prince jumped on him and placed his blade against his neck, immobilizing him.

“Yield,” he declared.

Lord Borros huffed and puffed, but saw that there was no way to escape.

The prince pushed the blade a bit further, drawing the tiniest amount of blood from his opponent’s neck.

“Yield, or die before your lady’s eyes,” he called out, much to your embarrassment.

Defeated, lord Borros yielded, and the crowds cheered once more for their prince.

Victorious, prince Daemon walked all the way where lord Borros has tossed his lance and removed the wreath you had made. He walked his way toward the seating area, stopping right in front of you. You could feel your blood freezing in your veins, and you wondered what he was going to do. Would he ridicule you in front of everyone? Beside you, your father also stood motionless.

The dragon prince removed his helmet and lifted his gaze to look at you. The moment your eyes locked, the ice in you was replaced with fire. All traces of fear and embarrassment vanished, and a warm feeling filled you from your toes to your head. You wanted to move, to step away from whatever it was he was doing to you, but your body wouldn’t respond. You saw those deep violet eyes, the same color as your dress, staring right into your soul, but you didn’t fear them. You knew, deep in your heart, that he would never hurt you.

The prince seemed to be bereft of speech as well, staring at you, saying nothing. His mouth was slightly open, his chest rising slowly. In the end, he smiled at you, a soft smile that sent a new wave of warmth through you.

After you father coughed a bit loudly, he seemed to return to his senses, and a smirk replaced the soft smile on his face.

“My lady, I believe this is yours,” he offered the wreath to you. His voice sent jolts up and down your spine, like invisible fingers teasing your back.

You took the wreath in your trembling hands, your eyes never leaving his.

“It seems you favor helped me more than your storm lord,” the prince teased you, his eyes full of playfulness.

“Then you should keep it my prince,” you replied, and you could feel your father tensing even more beside you.

You knew that such a move was outrageous, that you would be the talk of the entire court, but you didn’t care. Something in you screamed at you to do it, so you did.

The prince was surprised by your reply, but he quickly recovered, and took the wreath back in his hands.

“Thank you sweet lady,” the prince bowed his head, licking his lips as he gave you one last glance. Then he turned and exited the arena, while the people cheered him once more.

--

Your father was furious when you returned to your chambers.

“What were you thinking, offering your favor to your intended’s opponent? Do you know how that makes you look in his eyes?” he raged, while you sat on your seat, head down, hands clasped tightly on your lap.

“I apologize father, but I thought it was only right, since prince Daemon defeated lord Borros,” you muttered.

“You foolish girl,” he threw his goblet on the floor, “what if lord Borros decides not to ask for your hand, what will we do then?”

Though you knew you should be horrified at such a prospect, you were actually relieved at the idea. Somehow, you no longer could imagine yourself beside lord Baratheon, playing the role of dutiful wife, raising your children and keeping your house in order.

In your imagination, the man beside you had flowing silver hair, a pair of haunting violet eyes and a playful smirk that promised of many mischiefs.

The warmth you had felt earlier returned, but only until your father’s words broke through your pleasant fantasy.

“Tomorrow night, at the banquet, you will do your very best to get close to lord Borros, and make sure you are far away from the prince. His reputation is more than enough to destroy you, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that spoiled brat ruin my plans.”

You had the sudden urge to defend the dragon prince, but you shut your mouth before you could say anything that would further anger your father. Instead, you bowed your head, promising to do your duty, even if you didn’t like it.

--

The next day, your father had to meet with some important people, so you took the opportunity to escape to the gardens, hoping that the pretty flowers and the quiet would help clear your mind. You had spent your night dreaming of violet eyes, dragonfire and a sultry voice that beckoned to you. You woke up sweaty and with an unexplained ache between your legs. You had no idea what is was, so you did your best to ignore it.

You dressed in a simple light blue dress, tied your hair in a simple braid and made your way down to the gardens, trying to avoid any people. You knew that you had been the talk of the day, so you tried to steer clear of any gossipers, if only to keep the situation from getting worse.

You found a nice secluded spot in the gardens and sat on a stone bench, enjoying the delicate flowers blooming all over you and the birds chirping on the trees. You spent a lot of time just looking around taking in the vibrant colors, the different fragrances and the gentle breeze that caressed your face.

You were so lost in your own little world, that you didn’t hear the footsteps that approached your little spot.

“Good morning my lady,” the voice that had haunted your dreams last night came from your right, and a shiver ran down your spine. You turned to look at him, and your breath paused, just like the day before. What was it about him that made you feel like that?

“Good morning my prince,” you nodded, averting your gaze, even if it hurt you to do so. You remembered your father’s words, and rose from your seat, hoping to leave before anyone saw you with the prince.

“Do I frighten you so much that you want to flee at my very sight?” the dragon prince questioned, making you pause. He was dressed in a white linen shirt and a black leather doublet emblazoned with the sigil of his house. Black pants and boots completed his attire. His sword was absent, but he had a dagger strapped on his belt.

“No my prince, I just thought you might want to be alone, I don’t mean to impose.”

“On the contrary, I was actually looking for you.”

You turned to look at him, and tried really hard not to let those haunting violet eyes consume you whole.

“Why?” was all you were able to reply.

“I was just curious to meet the woman lord Borros is so interested in. If you managed to attract his attention for more than a night, then you must be someone special.”

You felt your cheeks redden at his comment. It was well known that lord Borros frequented the Street of Silk, and had even fathered no less than three bastards, on three different women. And the worst? He kept all three women close to Storm’s End, and visited each of them when he felt like it.

When you had mentioned all that to your father, he had simply shrugged and said: “As long as he decides to marry you and gives you an heir, the rest is irrelevant.”

You gritted your teeth, trying not to let your anger get the best of you. After all, this was a member of the royal family you stood before. No matter what he said, you had to remain calm.

“Excuse me my prince, I think I’ll take my walk in a different place,” you simply replied, avoiding to look at him.

“Why, we are having a pleasant conversation,” the man had the audacity to ask. You could feel the smugness emanating from him, you really could.

“No we don’t,” you flashed your gaze at him. “You’d have to be pleasant for that to happen my prince, and I assure you, you are anything but pleasant. Good day,” you curtsied, abandoning him in the gardens.

You knew that he had enjoyed tormenting you with his cruel words. You wanted nothing more than to hurt him in some way, but instead you decided to take a long walk, hoping to let off some steam. Maybe if you found lord Borros and managed to get him to ask for your hand, you’d soon get married and get as far away from the capital as possible.

--

Daemon stood in the spot you had left him, watching you as you fled from the gardens, amused. He had no idea why he liked riling you up, but he did. He could feel the anger flowing through you, he relished in the feeling it gave him.

He had caught a glimpse of you just before the tourney had started, when that oaf Baratheon had made a spectacle of asking for your favor. Did he really think that such a pathetic move would be enough to win over the heart of a woman?

Daemon could see that you were not interested in him. You were just doing your duty, as per your station. Yet your father was trying his best to get the storm lord to ask for your hand, despite the foul reputation the oaf had.

It would be a shame, Daemon thought, to let a woman like you be sullied by a man like Borros. It was why he had brought the favor back to you after the match had ended. It was scandalous, to be sure, but Daemon was never known to be a man of discretion. Not to mention that your dress was his favorite shade of purple, so close to the color of his eyes. It almost called to him.

He still remembered that warm feeling that had enveloped him when your eyes met. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. Being a dragon, he was no stranger to warmness and fire; yet this was different. This type of fire was neither harmful, nor scorching. It was the sort you felt when you were near someone you cared, someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with…

He shook his head, trying to get a grip on his wild emotions. Perhaps it would be best to steer clear of you for the foreseeable future. It was not his place to interfere with the affairs of lords and ladies. He promised to keep away from you, hoping the oaf would ask for your hand soon, and you’d be out of his life soon. Yes, that would be ideal. He left the gardens, heading to the Dragonpit to take Caraxes for a flight, ignoring the pang he felt when he thought of you married to the Baratheon fool. Yes, a flight would surely help him clear his head.

--

There goes the first one. I'll be posting the second one soon!

[syndrossi]

so we got ideas as to what the twins would give daemon for his nameday, what would rhea give him?

furthermore, what do daemon and the boys gift rhea on her nameday? breakfast in bed? a horse ride (safely ofc across the vale?), rhaegar braiding her hair?

i gots to know my bud, i gots to know

For Daemon

Rhea's going to do some heavy research to make up for the misinformation she's swallowed for years on Daemon. She'll learn his absolute favorite meal and having all the necessary ingredients (and possibly cooks) procured to have it served for supper. Then she'll want a gesture of trust, one both for Daemon and the people of Runestone (and the Vale). Not entirely sure what form it would take--formally naming him an advisor or regent in the event of her being unavailable/incapacitated, perhaps?

And finally a gift-gift. Given his love of things dragon and Valyrian, she might seek out any books scattered about the world on either subject for him. Alternately, she might herself commission that book of children's stories about House Targaryen that Daemon mused about in one of the concepts.

For Rhea

Daemon absolutely organizes a hunt for Rhea--somewhere exotic that she's never been before. He'll make all the arrangements with the local lord for horses, escort, etc and then fly them all on Caraxes to take part. For a physical gift, I feel like Daemon would want to give her something beautiful, maybe jewelry. Sort of an apology for calling her unattractive for so many years. A bronze setting for House Royce, and perhaps black/fire opal for the gem? He assumes that she's always gifted hunting/hawking/practical things, so he wants her to have a piece of heirloom jewelry of her house to pass on. There are enough people in Essos courting his favor for him to get his hands on some nice opal specimans.

(There will be other name days to get creative with hunting gifts, after all.)

Let's see, what could the twins could get her? I'm thinking the earliest they'd be capable of arranging an actual "gift" would be 3-4. Rhaegar composes a song for her favorite falcon, naturally, and he and Jon conspire with Ser Willam to have a special hawking glove made with protective runes etched into the leather.

[deathbirby]

K here are some terrible takes I have collected. Short thoughts for each one.

"Rhea intentionally caused famine by not sharing knowledge with Faerghus"

We have no idea what kind of knowledge she shared. And pick a side! Rhea has to stay out of human affairs because she's not human, OR she has to involve herself with human affairs because otherwise she's bad?

"The Church is homophobic"

Nowhere is it even implied that same-sex relationships are frowned upon in Fodlan. Hell, the archbishop, goddess, and many devout characters are queer, and nobody raises a fuss about their love lives in their endings.

Their holy book also says that the goddess does not deny love.

The whole crest stuff is not the church's fault. They tell you not to abuse crests, and had no hand in the creation of them. Humans did. And speaking of humans, Edelgard says that the people are the ones who elevate crest bearers, not the church.

The Church also has no control over the nobles, who would be the homophobic ones in this scenario??

"Cyril is Rhea's slave"

Cyril was an actual slave at House Goneril until Rhea saved him, something he is expresses his gratitude for by doing chores. He wants to feel useful in some capacity. This is a child who wants to feel useful and takes on extra chores because of that. He's a stubborn little lad, and we love him for it.

"Rhea keeps Cyril uneducated on purpose"

Cyril says in his and Lysithea's support that he keeps his illiteracy a secret because he doesn't anybody to feel like he's not up to a task because of it. AKA: He wants to help out!

"Seteth is doing propaganda"

I'm guessing this refers to the Shadow Library. Seteth removes books there that are either inappropiate or have information that's extremely dangerous if it got out. Some books talk about bans, but since those books are in the shadow library, that likely means they're outdated.

Or this refers to him calling Edelgard mean things?? She declared war against them; of course he's not happy.

"Byleth regains their humanity in CF"

Byleth was never human. Their mother is VERY much implied to have been a Nabatean, and their heart belongs to their (likely Nabatean) mother and the goddess.

Byleth also embraces their Nabatean heritage. Remember that Silver Snow is called Byleth's Route.

Byleth's Legendary Alt in FEH is their Enlightened One version.

Byleth's Brave Alt in Feh is Sothis's regalia, and they sing the Song of the Nabateans.

Byleth's Halloween Alt is a Duo with Sothis.

Byleth's Summer Alt is a Duo with Rhea.

Byleth's Khadein Alt talks about the Goddess's hand in events.

Byleth's Fallen Alt's Forging Bonds has Sothis taking over their body to protect them.

This argument also implies that it's bad for someone to be Nabatean, which is like... yikes.

"Seteth kills the western church members cuz theyre heretics"

"Indeed. The Western Church is attempting to seize sacred ground by force."

- They explain it to you in the exact same paralogue!

"The Nabateans benefit the most from the current state of events" / "The Nabateans are the ruling/top class in Fodlan"

How does the nearly extinct group benefit most from a system where their people's bones are used as WMDs?

They are walking on glass, y'all. If the truth (or even a lie) got out, they would get hunted down.

"Lonato is a good man"

He incited an armed rebellion against a church and would've mowed down villages to get there. He also goes around the knights to attack the students. No, he is not a good man.

"Nabateans ruled over humans in the past and their rule was bad" / "Nemesis did the right thing by taking out the Nabateans"

The word the devs use for the Nabatean rule is apparently something like "cure."

It is also NEVER stated that their rule was bad? Just that the Agarthans hated it (because they hate everyone).

Even the Agarthans talk shit about Nemesis. Nobody liked him.

And you can't... justify genocide? What?

"Sothis and her kids are colonizers and the Agarthans are the natives who got wiped out"

Fun fact! Despite all my theories, it is never made clear whether or not humans already lived on Fodlan when Sothis got there! The beginning cutscene flashes (Sothis's memories) show us a gorilla first, which implies that either life was not advanced, or humans did not exist by then.

Let's say humans did exist then. Sothis landed there and just started her own family. She never took any land by force? She shared knowledge with the humans which allowed them to build modern cities. That's not colonization. Please look up cases of actual colonization; I beg of you.

Sothis is more accurately an immigrant who shares her own culture with others.

"Sothis is not a god but a space alien"

It's never confirmed if Sothis is a space alien so that's actually just theory/headcanon.

Even if, all of her feats (and the dev's words) say that she's a god.

There are many more takes like these, but these are the ones I remember from the top of my head.