#a song of ice and fire x y/n

[k4marina]

— ii. Dragon Rider || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: a new routine in a new world

warnings: idek lol. unedited and not properly read (i kept falling asleep lmao)

series masterlist

~ 2.5k word count.

game of thrones x modern!fem!reader

[gif found on pinterest]

Never in my life have I regretted anything more than I did now. 

“Me and my big fucking mouth,” I grunted, getting up from the ground and dusting my leather pants. Gray Worm looks at me with a slightly amused expression. Of course he would, he just dropped me onto my ass for the fifth time today. 

It had been almost two weeks after the Small Council meeting. There had been a few more since then, but no major topics were discussed, other than Varys begrudgingly backing what I had said about Cersie having scorpions when asked if his little birds had any news. The new armor and weapons for the Unsullied are also being made. After a few talks with Daenerys, Gray Worm, a few Unsullied commanders, and I, the new armor design was decided on. Surprisingly the Unsullied were very artistic people and had great ideas. 

And, within the past two weeks, I’ve been tortured everyday, my limbs aching all the time, threatening to fall off. Everyday, I’ve been woken up at four in the morning for my sword lessons with Gray Worm for five hours a day. When I said I wanted to learn, I didn’t mean I wanted to train to be the world's best swordsman of all time. 

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I say towards him, wiping away the sweat on my face. 

“I have no idea to what you are referring to, My Lady.” Gray Worm says, feigning innocence. 

“You can’t call me ‘My Lady’ and then drop me on my ass for the fifth time.” I pointed out. 

Gray Worm smiled and got into a fighting stance and I mirrored. “Your defense has gotten better; however, your strength and stamina is lacking.” 

He gave the signal and charged towards me, going to swing towards my left. I sidestepped and blocked the hit with my sword before knocking it back. This time, I went for the attack, but Gray Worm expertly blocked me and knocked the sword out of my hand. The sword clattered against the stone ground, landing a few feet away from me.

“Maybe it’s best we stop for today.” He says, picking up the sword and placing it back onto the rack. I let out a sigh of relief and walked over to the inches, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat away from my face and neck. 

“Be honest,” I said, turning towards him. “Am I a lost cause?” 

He snorts out a laugh and shakes his head. “Apologies, My Lady.” Once he’d composed himself he answered, “No, I do not believe you are a ‘lost cause’. It may seem difficult now, but it will get easier later on.” 

“Wow, wise words,” I said sarcastically, taking a swig of water from the canteen. “They should call you ‘Gray Worm the Wise’.” 

“I’m pleased that you think I am someone with wisdom.” He says, giving a small bow, making me chuckle. 

After the lessons, I took a bath in my room, this time with the help of the servants. The first few days I would have them leave so I could bathe myself, but I guess over the days it just naturally happened. Once bathed and dressed in a white dress with gold embroidery and pearl beads before I made my way to the hall to have breakfast with Daenerys. 

Not only was it a good way for us to get to know one another (mainly her learning about me) as well as discussing future events and how we would maneuver through it. However, not all of it. I had made the decision to not tell her about Jon Snow or the White Walkers, I think that’s something she should organically go through. All she knows about Jon is that he’s the King in the North is Jon Snow, Ned Stark's “bastard” and the former Nights Watch Lord Commander who came back from the dead.  

The doors to the hall were swung open for me and I walked in, spotting Daenerys at the head of the table, looking through some documents. The sound of the doors closing, snapped her out of her thoughts. When she saw me she smiled, which I returned. 

“What did I say about bringing work to the dining table,” I lightly scolded. She gave me a sheepish look and protested, “it can’t be helped, it's important work. As Queen I’m expected to do this and more.” 

I walked over to her, carefully taking the documents and setting them off to the side. “Dany, you’ve been a Queen since you married Khal Drogo. You need to step back and take some time to just be Daenerys. Otherwise you’ll grow overworked.” 

“Alright, alright. If you’re so sure.” She nodded towards the servants to begin serving the food. Like always, an array of food was laid out for us to eat. We both began to eat, making small talk and updating each other with any new updates. 

“Gray Worm has been telling me that you’re quite exceptional with a sword,” She teased. 

I playfully rolled my eyes, groaning, “not you too.” She let out a laugh, teasing me some more. “What? He says you’re a fast learner. He says he’s never seen someone land on their arse five times in a row.” 

“Right, that’s it.” I huffed. “I’m running away.” 

Daenerys laughed some more and I tried to hide my smile. Truthfully, she reminded me of my younger cousin in Volantis, Mera. Both of them had a heart of gold and an innocent child-like soul deep down. 

“The servants told me that you refused to have your hair braided.” Daenerys points out. She’s not wrong. Instead of braiding my hair I opted to leave it in a ponytail or let it down. 

“Well, I haven’t won any battles.” I said. “Each one of your braids represents a battle won, I haven’t won anything.”

“So if you win you’ll braid your hair?” 

“Sure, why not. Why? Do you not want me to?”

“No, no. Actually, I would quite like that.” She smiled. 

I eyed her suspiciously, “don’t tell me you’re planning on putting me in the frontlines.” 

She shrugged. “Maybe. Your lessons with Gray Worm are going well. Who knows, by the time we’re ready for war you’ll be a master swordsman –or rather swordswoman.”

The rest of the breakfast went fine. Daenerys and I decided to take a stroll around the castle ground claiming she has something to show me. She dropped off the papers in her office before taking me through the back of the castle to the open fields in the back. The wind swept by us, carrying the saltiness of the ocean and the fresh scent of grass. 

“Where are we going?” I asked as she led me deeper into the field. 

“I just wanted to show you something. They’re right over there.” 

We stood atop a hill and at the foot of the hill on the other side resting were Daenerys’ dragons. I felt my heart stop. No way. What the actual fuck. My mouth ran dry as I looked over the three dragons. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion, all in their full glory. I looked over to Daenerys who was already looking towards me. 

“You’re serious?” I ask. She smiles and nods. “What if they don’t like me and decide to eat me?” 

Daenerys laughed, her cheeks turning pink. “They will do none of that sort, I swear. I have a strong feeling that they will like you.” 

Carefully she led me closer to the three dragons. With every step they just grew more and more. They towered over the two of us and stood with immense power. And to think that these three are just a small fraction of the size of Balerion and the rest of the Targaryen fleet. 

We stood a few feet away but I could still feel the heat that they emitted from their bodies. Their majestic eyes that were probably the size of my head watched me carefully. Shiny scales adorned their bodies that looked to be about the size of my hand or bigger. Their one claw nail was the same size as my limbs. 

Holy fuck was this crazy. I’d read about these dragons and even saw a few drawings made by people who’d seen them in textbooks, but being this up close and personal with them was a whole other experience. 

Oddly enough, for such dangerous creatures, they seemed to emit a sense of calm. 

“You feel it too?” Daenerys eyes my reactions to the dragons. “Their calm.” 

I nodded. “I thought my heart would be doing somersaults in my chest, but it’s not.” After the initial shock, I felt my body relax. 

“They’re so beautiful.” I said to no one in particular. 

We hung around them for some time, allowing me to get used to their presence while Daenerys told me stories about her and her dragons. 

I looked over the dragons. Drogon, named after Daenerys’ husband Khal Drogo. Rhaegal, named after Rhaegar the Dragon Prince. Viserion, named after Viserys the Beggar King. 

Daenerys followed my gaze to the cream and gold scales dragon that laid on the grass alongside his brothers. Viserion and Rhaegal seemed to play fight while Drogon watched. 

“Despite their playful nature, those two are the oldest.” 

“What? 

The dragons carefully made their way over to where we stood. Drogon moved towards Daenerys, moving his tail around her as if giving her a hug. Rhaegal moved around behind us, opting to lounge. Viserion, however, moved closer to me. His green eyes bore into mine, as if it was trying to communicate with me. 

He brought his face closer to me, like a dog wanting to be pet. I glanced back at Daenerys who nodded. 

Viserion tilts his head when I carefully bring my hand up to stroke his gold and cream scales. A deep purr comes from him, nearly startling me. He nuzzles his head into my palm and purrs some more. It wasn’t like a cat's purr, more like a deep bass. 

“Would you like to fly him?” Daenerys asks. 

“Yes,” I replied without a thought, too entranced at the dragon in front of me. 

She moves around Drogo, standing to the side of him. 

“Stand like this,” she says. “This is what I find the easiest.” 

I mimic her stance, standing besides Viserion. Drogon crouched down and Daenerys carefully stepped up, using his scales and spikes to seat herself atop the dragon. 

I copied her, being careful to not hurt Viserion (not that I’d be able to) and sat myself on top of the gold dragon. It was uncomfortable, almost like riding a really large horse with spikes and scales. How Daenerys was able to ride her dragons without a saddle or harness was beyond me. 

My hands gripped onto the spikes on Viserions back, holding on tightly as the gold dragon began to shift around from a crouched position to fully stand. My hands gripped onto him tighter as I tried not to fall off. I peaked over its massive body to see that Viserion was getting ready to take off. 

“W-wait!” I looked towards Daenerys who was watching from atop Drogon. “Why is it taking off? What do I do?” Panic filled my voice. 

There was no way in seven hells that she thinks that I can fly, right? 

“Hold on!” She grins just as Drogon takes off into the sky. VIserion gets ready and I can already feel myself slipping off. He takes off just as I adjust my position, hunching down and tightening my grip onto his spikes. 

Wind rushes past my ears and my hair flows all over the place. Instinctively, I closed my eyes while Viserion flew in the air. I could hear Daenerys call for me from across the sky. 

“Open your eyes!” She says. “You’ll be safe, I promise.” 

Carefully, I opened them. It was brighter up in the sky than on the ground and had a lot less clouds. I could hear the, surprisingly, gentle flaps of Viserions wings. I cautiously looked down, seeing that we were miles off the ground, so far up that we could see Dragonstone Island and I could feel my stomach start to buzz. 

“Don’t look down,” I look up to see Daenerys. “When it was my first time I was terrified, as well, but you cannot let your fear control you or else it will transfer to your dragon.” 

I nodded, taking in her words and sitting up straight with confidence. Despite still feeling uneasy I managed to get my grip on things (literally). Daenerys’ words rung in my ears. 

“Your dragon,” 

I’d read of Dragons bonding with non-Targaryens or non-Valyrians, case and point being Hugh Hammer riding Vermithor during the Dance of Dragons. But it would make sense if I could bond with Viserion in light of recent findings. 

“Alright, let’s see what we can do.” I said to Viserion and I. 

—

Daenerys and I spent the rest of the day riding our dragons. It was challenging, especially the part where you literally have to hold onto for dear life, but rewarding in the end. 

In the end Viserion and I had truly bonded. He would know what I was thinking or how I was feeling without even saying a word to him. At first I thought it was just the two of us getting the hang of each other, but Daenerys explained that this was what she and Drogon felt. It was hard to believe that I was a Dragon Rider. But then again, this past week has shown that anything could be possible. 

Getting off the Dragons was harder than getting on, my dress snagging on its scales, but not ripping entirely. 

“I can help you with your riding,” Daenerys says as we walk back into the castle. 

“I’d like that.” I replied. “I’m sure we can find books in the libraries that can help us too.” 

“Have you uncovered anything else?” She asks, expectantly. 

I shook my head. “Nothing of significance. I’ll keep reading and let you in on my findings.” 

We split off so we could clean ourselves up and get ready for dinner. The bathtub was already ready for me when I entered the room. I pulled off my dress and sunk into the steaming hot water. The tension in my shoulders loosened and I dipped my head back to rest on the edge of the bathtub. 

The weight of my necklace lay heavy on my chest, a firm reminder of my… predicament. I tried not to think about it all, otherwise I’d just spiral into some rabbit hole. Some days I wonder if it’s all some sort of dream. A long, vivid dream that I can't wake up from. A knot pulls at my chest, and my throat closes. My eyes flicker up to the ceiling, tears threatening to fall. I took a deep breath, the only thing I can do is take everything in day by day.

And then I fully submerged myself into the water.

a/n: finally, it’s here :) mb if there’s any spelling mistakes, i tried to proofread it but i kept falling asleep and couldn’t be asked anymore 😭 i’ll fix it later, trust 🙏.

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[targaryen-dynasty]

SEMPITERNAL.

final part of Precious Delights

Dad!Maegor Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, p in v, breeding kink, slight praise kink, kinda medieval daddy kink (?), size kink, lactation kink, lactating, pregnancy, pregnant sex

WORDS: 4.3 K

NOTES: Precious Delights comes to an end with this. I‘m a bit sad, because I really started to love the series, but I think I've managed to end it in a good way. Thanks to everyone that joined me on this journey.

It was going to be a day of revelry. The construction of the Red Keep had been completed, and your husband found it fitting to throw a feast in celebration for those who had taken part in it. 

Taking on a fatherly aura the moment your twins took their first breaths, Maegor didn’t want the festivities to start without his precious family present, even though you were meant to depart for your chambers once they started to indulge themselves in bawdier things. 

“You have to sit still if you want Mama to finish the braid quickly,” you warned the little girl sitting in front of you, though there was no sharpness to your tone, knowing you could not expect your daughter to sit still for so long. She was just three summers old after all, and just as excited about the feast as everybody else. 

Your own flowing locks loosely cascaded down your back and shoulders, not combed and unbraided as you had been taking care of your children the whole morning, often taking their care into your own hands as they were a blessing from the Gods above. And, while Visenya was clad in a black dress that once belonged to you when you were around the same age, your swollen curves still were concealed by a white nightgown. 

The raspy chuckle you heard, as your little girl didn’t remain still long enough for you to finish the task properly, prompted you to turn your head towards your husband, sitting in a stool not too far away while the barber tended to his hair and neatly trimmed beard. 

You raised an eyebrow in innocent enquiry at the sound, which briefly changed into something different while your eyes flickered over his frame. He was dressed, but barely. His cloak, and most pieces of his wardrobe, still were draped over a chair across the room from where he sat. His torso was exposed from the waist up, covered only by the leather breeches he wore. 

Maegor had a grin on his lips – entirely different to the expression he usually wore around servants and maids. In the confines of your chambers, he often lowered his guard, not too concerned about what others thought was proper. But in the presence of other people, he was always focused on remaining harsh and cold, wanting to display his dominance and power. 

“Have you been at this all morning?” Maegor asked, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes trailed over your body just like yours had done before. A hint of nervousness filled your veins, and you scolded yourself internally for your thoughts to stray towards things you should not be thinking at that moment. 

Not bothering to hide the blush that covered your cheeks, you finally replied. “Yes, I started at first light, not long after you left. I was hoping to finish before sundown, but this little one…,” you emphasized the word, causing your daughter to glance over her shoulder, flashing her father a big smile, “... has other ideas.”

You continued to braid her hair, trying to stop the braid from becoming too tight whilst also keeping the little princess’ fidgeting at bay. The barber was done trimming Maegor’s beard at this point, packing his utensils and scurrying off at once. 

“You would think that at three she would be more disciplined,” you sighed, smiling softly at your daughter. “But she takes after you.” Briefly pressing your lips into a thin line, you wondered if you had overindulged yourself in the bantering the moment the words slipped past your lips, and if Maegor knew you were just joking. Partially, at least. 

Visenya was the spitting image of your husband in more ways than one. Not when it came to the looks, as she was taking after you in that, but her rambunctious spirit was most definitely one of the attributes she shared with him. Aerion, however, was a different story. His looks resembled Maegor’s more and more with each passing day, while he had inherited your gentle presence. 

As Maegor chuckled, your frayed nerves calmed again. “You might have been better off dressing yourself before attempting to braid her hair,” he jested. 

“And I thought you might have helped, instead of sitting there and making witty comments,” you replied, glancing at Maegor, and trying to disguise your slight frustration as playfulness, directing your husband to your current predicament. 

You knew you couldn’t expect the King to take care of his children, not on an important day like this, but you also knew that Maegor more often than not had deferred his duties in the past in order to bond with the twins. 

Not wanting to admit defeat, you continued to braid your daughter’s hair, fighting against her lack of patience, and trying to finish before she kicked the entire braid off her head. Eventually, you were successful, pulling the braid into a bun behind little Visenya’s head. 

Maegor rose from his seat, and walked over to where you sat behind your daughter. He focused his attention on her, admiring her and your work for a moment, a soft sigh escaping him as he scooped her up into his arms. 

You smiled at the sight, your heart swelling in your chest, more so as you watched the gentleness with which he handled her. In a feeble attempt, Visenya tried to escape his bear hug, grumbling slightly as he snuggled her head and smelt her hair. It was the same as whenever you did it, but something in your children’s scents was just too intoxicating. 

Tilting his head back, Visenya’s little hands grazed over his beard, seemingly enjoying the feeling of the coarse hairs under her fingers just as much as you did, before she placed them at the sides of his thick neck for stability. 

He smiled softly at your daughter, a smile that scarcely graced his features when looking at you. It was gentle and loving, and whenever his eyes met yours, his expression was tinted with desire and longing. 

“Does Mama not know that your Papa is a skilled swordsman, and not a hairdresser?” Maegor asked your daughter in a playful tone, swaying her in his arms and pressing his lips to her temple. She was giggling uncontrollably, barely comprehending what he said, clearly keening at his affection and attention. 

When the doors to your chambers opened, the wet nurse came in with a styled and dressed prince at her side. Getting Aerion ready had taken you one hour at most, and was far less complicated. 

Upon spotting his father carrying his sister in his strong arms, the boy all but barrelled towards him in jealousy. The wet nurse failed to pull him back, leaving him as he tugged on the leg of Maegor‘s leather breeches, demanding to be picked up as well. 

You used the opportunity and leaned past Maegor, trying to fix a stray strand of Aerion’s silver hair – but the excited boy didn't have any of it. 

“My my, look who is here,” Maegor said with a smile, kneeling down while carrying Visenya on his hip.

The boy hugged his father tightly, squeezing him with all the strength he could muster with his tiny arms, which left Maegor chuckling. You could not feel any greater joy than seeing the brute of a man, mostly known for his harshness, so soft and full of affection for his children. 

“I want up, Papa. I want up, now,” the boy demanded, wrapping his arms around Maegor’s neck. The sight was adorable, and you could see on your husband’s face just how much he basked in your children’s affection. 

“Up you say, mh?” Placing a hand under the boy’s bottom, your husband lifted him up with ease, carrying both children on his hips. 

You sighed, bringing a hand to your swollen belly as you planted your feet firmly on the ground, and slowly rose from your seat. It was evident Maegor had wanted to help you, to reach out to support you, but with both arms filled with your twins, he could merely offer you his forearm for you to hold onto. 

This pregnancy was not as woeful as your first one, truly a blessing from the Gods above. And your husband was more generous this time as well, allowing you to walk the gardens and the keep all by yourself, despite it taking you a bit longer to be with child again. The pregnancy in general was not that strenuous for your body, though your breasts and bump had swollen to ridiculous proportions already, and you barely exceeded the fifth moon. 

Approaching them, you brought both hands up to their cheeks, the pad of your thumbs brushing along their soft skin as they leaned into your touch. “That is enough, you two,” you hummed, smiling softly. “You must go with Erena now. We have guests arriving soon, and Mama is not ready yet. It would not do to keep our guests waiting.” 

The twins pouted, but with neither you nor Maegor being too lax with them, they knew there was no chance they could stay for any longer. You motioned for the wet nurse to approach, before you cupped your children’s faces one by one, and pressed a kiss to their foreheads. 

“Aye, you have heard your mama,” Maegor said, having your back. His eyes had taken over a half-lidded look as they were all but glued to your features, your lips mostly, watching you and admiring your motherly aura. 

He put both of them down, but not without ruffling your boy’s hair in a way that had you taking in a deep breath, trying to keep the anger of him destroying Aerion’s hairdo at bay. 

Clinging to the wet nurse's hands, they left the room at once, no doubt going to their chambers for her to read them a book. There were merely two servants around you at this point, stopping in their tracks as Maegor’s deep voice rang out. “Leave us,” he ordered sternly, his usual demeanor crawling back to the surface. 

It was the side of him your children were not meant to see, at least for now, and with Maegor’s paw coming to your swollen belly once you were alone, the softness returned. Cupping your bump gently, he looked down at it in awe.

“Are you ready for the feast?” you asked, smiling softly at him before your eyes trailed over the expanse of his bare chest. 

“I am, for as long as you’re by my side,” he said, his other hand trailing over the slight curve of your waist. Both his hands now rested where the swell was, feeling the gentle curve of your bump. When he spoke again, you could hear a tinge of jealousy in his voice, his words making you chuckle. “But I fear the crowd will pay more attention to you than me.” 

Bringing your hands up to his face, you cupped it just like you had done with the twins before, your thumbs brushing the stubble on his jaw. His eyes softened, fixing yours. “I can not wait for you to be with my fourth child,” he spoke with a mischievous grin. 

You raised a brow. “Oh, only if you will be the one carrying the babe,” you retorted, the tease in your voice and sparkle in your eyes hinting at something only he would understand. “I doubt this pregnancy will spare me from the terrible birthing pains, and I do not know whether I can endure it for a third time.”

Maegor sighed at your words, his hands running over your sides once more, before one moved to the back of your head, threading into your thick locks. Gently tugging your head back, he leaned down to press a kiss to your jaw. 

“Would you like me to try?” he chuckled against your skin, pulling back just enough for you to spot the smirk on his lips. His tone had taken on a huskier edge, one that always forced you to squeeze your thighs together. “The Gods will be on our side this time. There will be only one babe, I am sure.” 

Licking his lips, he kept his grip on your hair, and pulled your face towards his. You anticipated a kiss, but alas, he kept a few inches between your faces, your heavy breaths fanning over each other's lips. 

You tried to chase him for a kiss, but Maegor kept your head in place. “I hope you know the dangers of challenging a Targaryen man,” he teased. 

Oh, you did know. More than once had he proven that it was just not wise to challenge him. It was impossible for him to resist a good challenge, no matter how bold or brazen. Your late brother Aegon was the perfect example, and also the reason he and his dragon Quicksilver were slain by your uncle in the Battle Beneath the Gods Eye. 

Slinging your arms around his thick neck, you kept your eyes locked with his, a mischievous glint flickering in them. “I shall take my chances,” you replied, biting your bottom lip. 

That was the last bit that caused his resolve to crumble. Bowing his head forwards, he pressed his lips to yours fervently, void of any gentleness. Your hair was released, only for him to snake one arm around your waist and bring the other to your arse. Cupping it, it was easy for him to lift you up, holding your body to his in a cradle carry with your lips still connected. 

You pulled back from him to chuckle breathlessly. “We can’t… not now,” you laughed, bringing a hand to his bare chest as if you meant to stop him. “Our guests will soon arrive.”

But he was not having any of it. “Oh, is that so?” he taunted, slowly walking towards your marital bed, shrugging his shoulders when he came to a stop. “Let them, they can wait.”

You stared up at Maegor with wide eyes as he placed you down on the bed, one of your hands cupping your bump, while the other just rested on your chest, your full breasts hard and heavy. He stood at the side of the bed, and began to undo the laces in the front of his breeches. 

As much as you wanted to lock your gaze with his, your eyes always trailed down to where his fingers were fumbling with the laces, your breathing growing heavier and your mouth running dry. 

Maegor was the most handsome of all men, and his other skills were unparalleled. Even though his cock was the only one you had seen, you knew Maegor was very well endowed, and probably possessed one of the most beautiful cocks in Westeros.

Unable to wait any longer, you tugged the skirts of your nightgown up as much as your bump allowed, and shimmied your way out of your smallclothes. Your swollen belly was obvious, but you hadn’t thought of it as so obtrusive. But your husband didn’t seem to mind, if anything, he was even more determined and motivated to have his way with you.

Maegor eyed you just as hungrily, and his jaw set as he noticed the slight glistening of your womanhood as you spread your legs. You were eager and ready to take him. 

Stripping the last of his clothes off, Maegor joined you in bed, making himself at home between your parted legs. Leaning over you, careful not to put any of his weight on your bump, he planted kisses to the side of your neck, trailing up to your lips. His large frame completely covered your significantly smaller one, making you feel protected and safe as your fingers entangled into his silver strands, tugging on them gently and keeping his lips locked on yours. 

His cock was hard, pressing snugly against your soaked womanhood, sure to coat the underside of it and the sac of his stones in your arousal. You couldn’t help but to grind your hips against him, rutting your swollen folds against his hard member which prompted him to groan against your lips. 

“Be still, would you,” Maegor scolded, but his tone was void of any harshness. 

But you couldn’t. Not when your body craved to be filled by him so badly. And Maegor seemed to notice your despair. He sat back on his haunches, looking down at you. The pout on your lips had him smirking smugly. “You have teased me long enough,” you whimpered, innocently batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s what I deserve after this strenuous morning.”

Raising his brow, Maegor sighed – he was admitting his defeat. “I shall make it quick for you then.”

His hands roamed over your bump, the white silk allowing them to slide over it with ease. He then proceeded to lean to the side, fetching one of the pillows next to you and folding it in half. 

Maegor hooked one hand beneath your knee, and used that grip to lift your hips, slipping the pillow beneath them to slightly raise your body for him, and make your back arch in a way that was not uncomfortable. It caused your swollen breasts to spill from the low neckline of your nightgown, the white silk dampened and darkened by the droplets of milk that had oozed out of your hardened buds. 

“Let me take care of you, mama,” Maegor drawled, his dark blown eyes traveling over your frame. Despite most of your body still concealed by your nightgown, he couldn’t be any more attracted to and aroused by you than he was in that moment.  

Gripping the base of his cock, he used your arousal to tug on him once, twice, before aligning the tip with your throbbing entrance. He was completely focused and careful as he pushed inside, moving slow enough for you to feel every vein and ridge of his cock drag along your walls. 

“Gods be good,” you moaned, enjoying the feeling of being stretched out by him, bliss taking over your senses. 

Your husband remained upright, his hands on your knees as he started with a slow, deep grinding. Your smaller one found his and held onto him for stability and to feed your longing for his touch, your eyes never leaving his. You felt the familiar heat building in your belly quicker than usual, the coarse hair around his member grazing over your sensitive pearl every time he moved and fueling the pleasure you felt. 

“You truly were made for me,” he grunted, a large hand moving to splay over your bump, covering most of it. “The most beautiful woman in the realm, swollen with my seed and carrying my children.” With a blush covering your cheeks, you bit your bottom lip, stifling a wanton moan. 

Noticing the color on your cheeks, Maegor smirked, slightly increasing the pace of his hips, his cock hitting deep enough to drag over the spot that had you whining and whimpering. You were squeezing him so well, making it impossible for him to keep going for much longer – not that you had time to do so anyways. 

Your pearl throbbed with anticipation, and your cunt clenched and convulsed around his member, announcing your approaching peak and coaxing grunts and groans to escape his parted lips. 

You tipped your head back into the pillows, unraveling beneath him as you closed your eyes in bliss. 

“So good,” he groaned, reaching to rub your bump before trailing his hand up to your full breasts. “I shall fuck you full of my seed, and bed you until your womb runs dry.” You weren’t sure if it were his words, the thoughts accompanying them or the sensual rolling of his hips, but your brain went fuzzy with pleasure, clouding each thought to the point you couldn't think straight and answer him. 

His big hand tugged the neckline of your nightgown down to the point it ripped at the seam, freeing your breasts from their confines. It could have been a growl or a groan rumbling in his chest – either way it sounded threatening and dangerous, lured out by the sight of your leaking breasts. Clamping one of your darkened buds between his calloused fingers, he squeezed it to force some more droplets of milk out of it, coating his fingers in it.

Bringing them up to his lips, he sucked them clean with a groan, only for him to pay equal attention to your other breast not long after. It was not much, but already helped enough to relieve some of the pressure and ease the fullness. 

You bit your bottom lip and started up at him with half-lidded eyes, a teasing grin on your lips. “Want to get your fill, papa?” you asked, feigned innocence weaving itself through your tone. 

Maegor panted heavily, his eyes glued to where his fingers were milking you. “You little minx,” his husky voice drawled, interrupted by strained breaths. He was close. “Later.”

The coil in your belly tightened each time his body rutted against your pearl in combination with his fingers on your breasts, and it eventually snapped and allowed your peak to wash over your body with a loud cry. Maegor watched you mesmerized, relishing in the way your cunt fluttered around his cock with relief etched onto your features. 

He seized the opportunity, and bowed his bull-like body forwards, placing one hand next to your frame to support his weight as he increased the pace and intensity of his thrusts. Your cunt melted around his hard member, sucking him in with each snap of his hips.

You couldn't deny the slight aching that started to blossom between your legs, growing more apparent with the repercussions of your peak slowly subsiding, but you knew Maegor was racing for completion at this point, his breathing ragged and his jaw set. 

“When this babe is born…,” he rambled, panting in between the words. Strands of his blonde hair fell in front of his eyes, a sheen of sweat on his skin. “… I shall fuck another into you. I can not get enough of watching your body swell with my seed, making it clear to everyone that you are mine.”

“Y-Yes, Gods, please.” The flush on your cheeks grew hotter, matching the growing volume of your whimpers and moans. Suddenly, the thought of another babe growing inside of you didn’t seem too bad. 

It was with a final thrust of his hips that his body finally relented, his cock spending in a burst so strong Maegor stilled his movements. You felt him twitch and throb inside of you, spilling his seed and painting your walls as you milked him for every drop. 

The sight was divine. His muscular body crouched forwards slightly, blonde strands framing his chiseled features, beads of sweat highlighting his flexing muscles, and his jaw set tight enough you feared for his teeth. 

If you weren’t with his child already, you would have mounted him to make sure his seed would bear fruit. 

Every muscle in his body was tensed, until he eventually collapsed into the vacant spot right next to you, careful not to put any weight on your swollen belly. His flaccid cock slipped out of you in the process, causing you to pout at the sudden feeling of emptiness. 

But you were quickly distracted when you looked to the side, studying him carefully. The blissful smile on his lips sent heat straight through your veins again, reigniting the fire and longing for more. You traced your fingertips over his sharp cheekbones, while his hand had remained splayed over your bump in a protective manner. 

Moving to lie on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, mischievous thoughts filled your head, inspired the moment you glanced down at his thick cock. Teasing and arousing you was a weapon only Maegor possessed, and he wielded it so perfectly – intended or not. 

“Mh, our guests may have to wait a little longer,” you said, voice laced with desire. 

It was a bit troublesome for you to get up, but once you managed to do so, you moved to straddle your husband’s hips, his cock trapped between your soaked womanhood and his lower stomach.  

He watched you with an eyebrow raised, but made no move to stop you. You rutted your hips over his length, coating him in your mixed essences and coaxing him to full hardness again. 

Maegor propped himself up on his elbows, a groan leaving his lips, and brought his paws up to graze over your sides. He understood what you wanted, and was eager to give you just that. With unsurprising strength, he fisted the silk of your nightgown and tore it in half, exposing your whole body to him. 

You gasped, more because of the chill air hitting your hot skin than the shock of the sudden movements. 

Licking a flat stripe over the curve of your full breast before wrapping his lips around your hard bud, Maegor sucked on it a few times to swallow some of your milk. You moaned at the stimulation, tipping your head back as your cunt clenched around nothing. 

He pulled back with a string of saliva connecting his swollen lips and your skin, glancing up at you mischievously. And when he spoke, his voice was husky and strained, teasing you with a smug smirk on his lips. “I think they will understand.”

Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @watercolorskyy @xxxkat3xxx @baedebnam @simonedk @heavenhatesme @valyrianglass

General Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @sirenangelroyal @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @docmartinis @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @nockerin @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lovelykhaleesiii @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @goldyfishsstuff @connorsui

[vincentsambershades]

How not to tame a dragon

Cregan Stark x Targ!fem!reader

Summary: when Cregan Stark informs his Targaryen bride that she cannot bring her mount with her to Dorne, all hell breaks loose.

(I usually avoid writing since English is not my native language (be warned). I was, however, inspired by some hotd-fics from my favourite creators and wanted to write something fun, about our favourite northern man, mister cregan, which I'm actually pretty proud of. So here it goes.)

Word count: 2.5k-2.6k

Warnings: 18+, angst, smut, fingering, p in v, tiny bit of breeding kink, flufffffff

When Cregan Stark was first presented with the young Targaryen princess he didn't fail to notice the fire that erupted from within her. A fire caused by her close attachment to her dragon. Her Cannibal, albeit frightening, had served the both of them well enough after their wedding. And even though Cregan was hesitant to ride on dragonback, his wife had charmed him in doing so relatively early in their marriage. 

 In spite of how much Cregan admired the beast, as well as the bond between his bride and her mount, there were moments when he wished he hadn't been married to a Dragonrider. 

The princess was used to roaming Westeros with her loyal travel companion. Therefore, when the time had come for the newly wed couple to head to Dorne, in order to manage 'certain financial and commercial matters', as her husband had called them, Cregan prevented her from bringing her beloved dragon along. He insisted that a dragon, despite being a sign of force and power, would create an intimidating environment that would leave no room for impartial negotiation. He was right of course, as always, but the wrath of the dragon was easy to provoke.

"Cannibal is coming with us to Dorne! The cold of the North is no good for him! The heat will soothe him!" she was red in the face and as terrifying as the wild thing she had managed to tame. 

"My love, you know we cannot travel with a dragon to Dorne, bringing your beast along will only serve as provocation which we cannot afford!" said Cregan only fuelling his wife's fury.

"This is outrageous!" she looked almost as if she intended to feed him to the dragon.

No direwolf would ever be able to save him from that fate.

She didn't speak to him for at least two weeks after that. 

Around that time, their journey to Dorne began.

After long hours of travelling, as night was setting, time had come for them to rest and as Cregan helped his men set out camp for the night, his wife was taking a stroll near the frozen river. She was wrapped in more furs than he could count and looked as if she would tumble over from their weight any moment now.

She would appear comical had it not been for that sour expression on her face. 

Separating her from her dragon seemed to toll on her more and more as the days passed. Her denial to exchange more words with him, other than 'Good Morrow' and occasionally 'Good night', didn't seem to improve her mood either. 

It didn't matter to her that she missed him. The princess wanted for her husband to be the first, out of the two, to break. She wanted for him to seek her out, chase her and claim her all over again. 

Cregan needed her too. He had always known that half her heart belonged to her dragon. That was what happened with all Targaryens.

He had come to terms with that.

Yet, there were moments, like this when the mere view of his beautiful wife had him hoping that he owned at least some part of her heart. 

He felt silly. He knew that their marriage was a political arrangement. Her father had established that when the match was made. However, Cregan couldn't help but feel lucky to have found a match in the princess, their chemistry was undeniable and their times together were filled with all the passion other political marriages lacked. There was mutual understanding in their marriage. 

Cregan shook these thoughts and concentrated on the task ahead. So called traders from Dorne had been entering his borders and tormenting villages on his coastlines. Of course, the Lord had tried to diplomatically remove them from his land but when the situation became unbearable and his ambassadors came back empty handed, he knew it was time for a formal visit to the far South. He had been tempted to use his wife's creature in order to intimidate them, but the thought of causing further commotion, when the throne was so vulnerable, prevented him from doing so. For a Stark, Cregan's will to maintain the peace was greater than his thirst for battle. 

Cregan was lost in his thoughts as the men sat around the fire, passing around carafes of ale to warm them during the cold night. It took his companions quite a bit of convincing, but he finally accepted to take a swing. 

"To keep you warm, Lord." insisted the man who was sitting on his right. Cregan took the carafe, offering the man a grateful smile, and drank generously. 

Instead of downing more, he wrapped his coat tighter around him and relaxed while watching the flames. Cregan managed to lose himself in the moment. He didn't know what it was, the easy atmosphere or his companions' laughter, but something warm bloomed in his chest. How he had missed travelling. Roaming the North with his friends as the moonlight illuminated them.

It felt even better this time. Because in this particular occasion, he had her to share it with. His stubborn little wife. His fierce dragon rider.

And that was when it hit him.

Cregan realised he hadn't seen her in more than an hour. The last time his eyes had fallen on her, she was wandering around, kicking the snow with her feet. He didn't think she had headed for the woods, he knew she wasn't that careless. Before they began their journey he had, after all, made sure to inform her of all the dangers they might come across, wolves, bears and other animals humans shouldn't meddle with. Therefore, she had to be in their shared tent. 

"What is it Lord?" the man turned to him again. Cregan attempted to hide the worry off his voice. 

"Have you seen my Lady around?" 

"I fear I haven't, Lord, she must be resting." offered the man with a toothy grin that did nothing to ease Cregan's worry. 

Cregan rose to his feet swiftly, turning on his heels and heading to the tent where he found nothing but an untouched bed and a trunk he himself had placed there. He exited the narrow space, searching for any sign of his wife. His vision, despite being acute, served him little in the moment and the full moon, albeit helpful, didn't shine enough light upon the heavy snow. His mind ran several miles an hour, considering all the possible paths the princess could've taken. He began his search without being in control of where his feet took him until he reached the river. He looked for footprints but found none. Even if she had taken that route, the fresh snow would've covered her tracks.

His train of thought was rudely interrupted by a crack on the ice that had gathered at the edges of the river. The sound of the rapture was followed by a splash in the cold water and a womanly scream, one that undoubtedly belonged to his wife.

He followed the direction of the sound only to be met with the sight of the princess' attempt at defying the coldness of the river and swimming to the surface. Without second thought, Cregan rid himself of his fur coat, keeping on his less warm leather attire. He placed the heavy coat to the side and got in the freezing water aiming for his wife. She was easy to identify, even in the dim moonlight, and so he reached for her. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and pulled her out, letting her limp body rest against the snow covered ground but only long enough for him to pull his dry furs on top of her soaked ones. After she was securely wrapped in them, he carried her unconscious back to the untouched bed he had prepared for her. 

"You stupid girl..." he scolded her while peeling her clothes off and leaving them near the fire to dry. Despite being close to the fire and covered in all the blankets Cregan could find, she was still shivering. "The blood of the dragon is not enough to keep you warm after all..." she had awakened during this time and was aware of everything he threw at her. 

Had she been in her senses, she would've jumped at him for daring to question the fire in her veins. But she was weak and defeated as she watched him pull his own clothes off. 

He knew there was only one way to warm her up fast and that was body heat. And no matter how mad she had been at him for the past two weeks, she couldn't help but feel grateful as he covered himself in the blankets and pulled her to him. His arms found their place around her waist and she buried her face in the crook of his neck inhaling the manly scent of him. He started running his fingers up her back, all the way to her damp hair, and down again, just above her rear. He grabbed her thigh, hiking her leg over his hip and drawing her closer. His fingers found her front and caressed the skin below her bellybutton, tentatively delving lower. She heaved a sigh, her now hot breath hitting his neck as he let his urges overtake him. 

His hand found its place between her thighs. She was warm there. Warm and soft. He dipped his fingers in her delicate folds, finding her oversensitive bud and circling it. They hadn't coupled in a while and his desire for her was driving him crazy.  

"Cr-Cregan..." she whimpered and for a moment he thought she was hesitant. That thought, however, didn't plague him for long. When he pulled away to look at her face, to search for a negative reaction, he saw her pouty lips regaining their colour and her eyes reddened with unshed tears and clouded with want, pleading for him to finally touch her. 

"Please, please, please-" as much as he usually enjoyed her begging him to take her, he was quick to stop her whimpering by capturing her lips in a kiss. His lips felt hot against hers and as he replaced his index finger with his thumb on her pearl, reaching lower and teasing her entrance, she gasped offering him the perfect chance to deepen the kiss. His fingers felt heavenly inside her, pumping in and out of her always hitting the rough spot that Cregan knew made her see stars. 

Even with his fingers inside her and his length, brushing against her lower stomach, the kiss was his personal way of reclaiming her, swallowing her whole. 

She reached her smaller hand between their bodies, taking him in her hand and stroking him as he sat hot and heavy in her palm. 

She pulled away and her slack expression, lust filled eyes and kiss-swollen lips could have made him peak at that instant. 

"I want you inside of me, now." she stated and how could he refuse her. Especially when she looked so eager, practically begging him to fill her. 

He was quick to pull his fingers out of her, leaving her with an empty feeling. She didn't complain though, not when the sight of him getting on top of her and settling between her thighs had rendered her speechless.

He lowered his hips, reaching between his legs to tease her with his tip before entering her in one forceful thrust. She let out a yelp and choked out a moan.

The feeling of him long and thick, stretching her out after weeks of refusing him couldn't compare to anything. 

Except, perhaps, for the feeling of her, wet and warm and tight, around her husband. Cregan swore there was no other woman besides his wife that felt so perfect. 

Her tears, from how intense their lovemaking was, had Cregan remembering their first time together, right after their wedding feast when he had her lay on silk sheets, broken her maidenhead and molded her to him. 

"Cregan I need to-need to-" she tried to say while Cregan delivered licks and bites to the sensitive skin of her neck. 

"What do you need, my girl?" he thrust in her hard and fast, the way she liked it as his lips landed on her breast, sucking lovemarks and taking her nipple in his mouth, making her moan loud enough for everyone around to hear. 

"I n-need to peak, please!" she managed and who was he to deny her wishes. He led his fingers to her pearl, rubbing it while hitting her sweet spot. 

"Suck a good girl for me, begging me for her peak. Do it, I want to feel you come apart on my cock" he commanded her and not long after that her climax hit her. She held onto him, her nails digging into his biceps as he kept his unrelenting pace. His murmurs of 'that's it' and 'good girl' were muffled by her hair. Endless mantras of his name left her lips as she rode out her orgasm, her hips moving involuntarily against his own. 

"Do you want me to spill in you, uh, my love?" he asked almost mockingly as his thrusts grew uneven, a sign he was close.

"Sp-spill in me Cregan!" she yelped as he continued to abuse her insides. Her husband groaned at her lustful pleas, grabbing her face and forcing her to look him in the eye.

"I will, sweet girl. I will spill in you, make you round with my pup. You would like that, wouldn't you?" Cregan came apart with a satisfied moan, his warmth filling her and then running down her thighs as he grew soft and pulled out.

He didn't leave her side after that. He laid beside her, instead of on top of her, and pulled her to him. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to regain her breath and Cregan placed reassuring kisses to her forehead.

After a few moments of utter silence, he heard her sniffle and mutter something against his throat. He soon came to realise she was apologizing. He gave her a questioning look, wondering what she had to apologize for.

"I'm sorry for avoiding you for two weeks, it was stupid and immature of me and I'm so so-" he silenced her with a kiss to which she responded quickly.

"You have nothing to apologise for." Her expression was hopeful. "I understand what it is like to be parted from something or someone you've truly set your heart to. That's what staying away from you felt like" she gave him a nod before letting his words truly set in. Her confusion painted her face a scarlet red and her anticipation was later imprinted in her voice.

"What are you saying?" she questioned and he sighed softly, cupping her cheek and wholly giving into her.

"I love you infinitely, my fierce dragon princess. And you needn't say it back. Not unless it's your truth." a weak smile formed on her lips.

"I love you too, have loved since I married you, before that even." her cries ceased. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, inviting him to her. "I love you my wild man from the North, my wolf." he laughed at that, an honest heartfelt laugh, the vibrations of which she felt against her own chest, and proceeded to kiss her.

Cregan kissed his dragon princess like his life depended on it.

[weird-addiction]

If you're still writing for hotd, could you do a aemond x twin brother reader (platonic ofc). When aemond loses his eye, his brother takes his own eye on the opposite side as a form of solidarity. They have a close relationship and reader claims cannibal as aemond claims vhagar. I know it's a lot but I thought it was a good idea. Hope you have a great day

~snake anon 🐍

One in the Same

Pairing: Platonic!Aemond Targaryen x Male!Twin!Targaryen!Reader

Genre: Neutral

Warnings: Gore, taking out an eye, typical violence, threatening someone

Being the twin to a prince was never meant to be easy, well, others at the bottom would say different. That is because they have never been in his position before. Y/n was the fourth child of Alicent and Viserys, the younger twin to Aemond Targaryen. 

They said that the gods flip a coin to determine a Targaryen’s fate when they are born, one side was greatness, the other was madness. If this was indeed true, Y/n’s side of the coin would be sadness. There was not a day from the day he was born that he did felt like a void was inside of his heart, and the only way to fill it was to be close to his twin at all times. 

Since childhood, Y/n clung to Aemond’s side no matter what they were doing. Training, eating, in the library reading, the one thing they did not do was sleep in the same bed. Alicent tried everything to keep Y/n a part, as she was worried that in the future that their closeness would prevent them from finding wives, however Y/n still refused to let his brother go. 

Aemond was dragonless, so was Y/n, they were the only ones without dragons and boy were they bitter for it. 

See, Y/n was what you called the ‘the silent but deadly’ type of person. He told everything, every feeling, every emotion to his twin and no one else. And for this, he had no idea how to express himself to others freely. 

So, he did it through violent means. 

“Behold! The Pink Dread!” Aegon, Jace and Luke all said in a mocking way as the pig stood before them. 

Aemond kept his emotions inside, he would not show them that this got to him. His twin however, did not have the same reaction. 

Y/n did not hesitate as he grabbed Aegon by the collar, his fist raised as he was about to punch him. Aegon was surprised to say the least, as he flinched back from his brother’s raised hand. Jace and Luke were also shocked to see this, as Aegon was the eldest among them so no one went against him. Seeing Aegon’s own younger brother do that to him was not something they expected. 

“Tell me why I shouldn’t make you unable to see Sunfyre for a week, brother.” Y/n spat, his hand did not loosen its grip. 

“I-I’ll tell mother!” Aegon said out as a last resort. 

“Mother? Mother would thank me for knocking some sense into you.” Y/n’s eyes narrowed, the dragon burned within him brightly. 

Aegon managed to shake himself free, himself and their nephews left quickly so as to not anger him anymore. Y/n turned back to Aemond, wanting to comfort him. But, Aemond was already down the pit to see for dragons. Y/n notified a guard and Aemond was taken out before he became ashes. 

“What are you doing?! Are you trying to get killed?” Y/n looked him over for injuries. 

“I’m fine.” Aemond replied quickly, hiding his disdain for dragging him out. 

They were escorted back to their mother who was watching over Helaena with her bugs. 

“Do I have to have you both confined to your chambers-”

“They gave him a pig!” Y/n yelled, cutting Alicent off. 

Her attention went to the younger, then back to the elder to confirm if this was true. Aemond’s face said everything. 

“You both will have a dragon. One day. I promise.” Alicent brought both of her sons into a hug before leaving to talk to her husband and her eldest son for pulling such a trick on his own brothers. 

The dragon did not come to them, even them trying to claim other older dragons did not work. Y/n suggested they go to Dragonstone to take a shot with the dragons there, Alicent allowed after much persuasion. 

Once they arrived on Dragonstone, they went directly to where the dragons were kept. The dragon keepers standing there waiting for them. 

By the end of the day, Y/n had managed to fly around with a dragon so large that the shadow covered all of Dragonstone. Even the keepers were surprised, and when he landed, everyone was stunned. 

Y/n Targaryen had claimed the legendary beast that is Cannibal. 

Y/n climbed down from the dragon’s back effortlessly as he pats its side, running to hug his twin and ask the older about his own dragon. Aemond was impressed by his abilities, but rather sad as he himself was unsuccessful as claiming a dragon. 

“It’s ok! You’ll have one! You will have a dragon with wars and conquests under its belt! I promise Aemond!” Y/n exclaimed as he hugged his brother tight. 

Well, that would come true only a year later as came the death of Laena Velayron. By the end of the funeral, Aemond had run off by himself as he heard the sad roar of a dragon in the distance. 

On the other hand, Y/n was freaking out as he did not see his twin anywhere near him. He wanted to go find him but the guard said he needed to go to bed, but how could he sleep without knowing that Aemond was somewhere else? How could he sleep without knowing if Aemond was safe?

Well, he did not have to wait for long, the guards soon came and escorted him down telling him something had happened to his brother. This made Y/n practically run down the stairs to such a gorey sight before him, his twin flame, his brother who he loved so much was sitting in a chair getting stitches across his eye. Running to Aemond’s side, leeching to the elder’s side as he looked him over for other possible injuries. 

“How did this- what happened?” He quietly asked. Aemond responded with one eye movement, gaze shifting over to their nephews. 

“Which one?” Y/n’s tone now held venom, wanting vengeance and revenge to the one that did this to his twin. 

“The one that I broke the nose of.” His response made Y/n realize, of course, it was not hard to see who he was talking about after all. 

“Lucerys. Of course. Those..bastards.” Y/n truly hated saying that word, he wanted to be close to his nephews, but what they just pulled was not going to be forgotten and forgiven so easily. 

Alicent came over to the twins, giving them concerning glances. Pushing them behind her as she watched Rhaenyra come into the room. The twins held each other’s hands as they waited for what would happen to them. 

“My son has lost an eye!” Alicent exclaimed, gesturing to Aemond who sat in the chair. 

“It was my sons who were attacked, and forced to defend themselves.” Rhaenyra retorted back. “The legitimacy of my son’s birth were put loudly to question.” 

Y/n and Aemond both looked at each other and smirked, they couldn’t help it, everyone who had eyes could see it of course. 

“What did you actually do?” Y/n asked under his breath. 

“Claimed Vhagar. They say I stole her.” Aemond leaned into his forehead against Y/n’s.

“That’s stupid. You can’t steal a dragon, the dragon chooses its rider. Otherwise, I would not be alive talking. Cannibal would have eaten me.” Both of them then tuned out the rest of the conversation. Well, until their mother decided to grab the dagger sitting at their father’s belt and attack their half-sister with it. 

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?! It’s trampled under your pretty foot again!” Alicent yelled as her wrist was caught in Rhaenyra’s grip. 

“Exhausting wasn’t it? Hiding under a cloak of your own righteousness. Now they see you as you are..” Rhaenyra said back, struggling with holding the queen back. 

Alicent yelled as she forced her hand with the dagger down, the sound of fabric slicing and dagger went through the room. Rhaenyra staggered backwards, Corlys was behind her and managed to hold her before she was going to fall more. 

Aemond stood up with the help of Y/n, walking over to their mother slowly. 

Seeing that Alicent had cut Rhaenyra, Y/n wanted this to end. Grabbing the dagger from the floor before anyone could notice, and what he did next made everyone gasp in shock.

Sliding the dagger across his right eye, with force, the same thing that Luke did to his brother. The blade dropped to the ground again, this time, with way more blood than the last. Clutching his eye in pain, Y/n turned to look at both parties, blood dripping from his socket.

“Now, we are all even. I took my eye, there is no need for Luke’s.” Y/n spoke sternly.

Alicent looked in horror as another son of hers had lost an eye, now it was two eyes instead of one; and it was all from two of her own children and none from Rhaenyra. 

“Your mistake has caused my other son to take his own eye. Is this what you wanted? More of my children mutilating themselves for your sake?!” Alicent yelled, and only silence followed. 

Y/n was sent to the maester immediately as the eye also needed to be taken out. Unlike his twin however, he screamed through the entire process and held onto Aemond’s hand for dear life. Soon, the same stitches covered the scar over his eye, the opposite of Aemond’s. 

For the years to come, the people of Westeros knew the twins as the single-eyed princes. However, no one tried to get close to them. Or rather, it was the twins themselves who refused. They stayed true to each other rather than to marry some stranger they did not know. 

Aemond had a sapphire in place of his missing eye, while Y/n had a ruby in place of his. 

Two spirits stone cold but the sparks of two stones together burned brightly in between them. 

Two of the biggest dragons in the world by their side. 

No one will ever cross them ever again. 

[ransprang]

Jaime Lannister x Fem!Reader Hcs

Fueling my Nikolaj and GOT brainrot~ enjoy

NSFW and SFW -

1. Man protects you like a dawg. He will not have anyone touch you or get too close without drawing his sword the second they take a step closer (Not even your parents).

2. Jaime loves having sex the second you both are alone, he just can’t help it. A quickie in the meeting room, in his chamber, after shower. He loves it when he stands tall and you’re on your knees sucking him off as a to thank him for protecting you.

3. Jaime loves carrying you over his shoulder. He’s strong, and you’re his. In the palace he will subtly tease you by carrying you over his shoulder to your room.

4. Jaime loves restraining you, he will tackle you down, pinning your hands above your head. He likes to be in charge, and fuck you to relieve his stress from the long day of managing Cersei.

5. Jaime would like to have children with you, and possibly favour them over Joffrey. As they are his to claim to the public, and he can love them freely also protect and raise them.

6. Jaime likes being just a boy around you. No pressures to fight or decisions. He likes teasing, making jokes and possibly be obsessed with building blocks which makes you look at him sometimes think, how at the core hes just. a. guy.

7. When you watch him fight or be an exceptional swordsman you want him to fight you similarly but in the bedroom, without his clothes on and definitely with a different sword of his. You could testify Jaime was skilled with his other not so miniature sword as well.

8. Cersei would love bullying you, in order to push you away from her beloved brother. Jaime wouldnt never rage at her, but would protect you from all her evil schemes and will never let anyone or anything harm you. They will have to face him before you.

9. Jaime takes off his metal hand and stares at where his wrist used to be sometimes, but he will only show such level of sadness and vulnerability in front of you.

10. Jaime loves pounding you with your legs over his shoulders, he loves to watch your breasts bounce bringing him closer to the edge faster.

Your twin,

Admin Sav

[daemonsdivorcerock]

THE HEIR WHO NEVER WAS || d.Targaryen

IN WHICH: a decade after the two rogues of house targaryen run away, they live a content life in pentos until they are invited to laena velaryon’s funeral on driftmark and are forced to reunite with their dysfunctional family.

REQUESTED: yes/no

PAIRING: daemon targaryen x fem!reader

AUTHOR’S NOTES: sequel to “taming of the shrew”. i advise that you read that first. also reader is described as having silver hair. meraxes, the dragon of the first rhaenys targaryen, is alive for selfish reasons/j. sorry if this is shit.

WARNINGS: incest (bucket loads), westerosi shenanigans, mentions of death, childbirth, children, daemon being daemon, otto hightower, maiming/bodily injury, angst, fighting, dysfunctional family, targaryen shit etc

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

“THAT’S IT, PRINCESS, ONE MORE PUSH!” the young Pentosi midwife joyfully encourage, crouching at the end of a double bed, the white sheets tarnished with the crimson blood of the Heir Who Never Was.

(Name) panted, chest heaving. Sweat clung to her brow, eyebrows knitted, eyes closed and nose scrunched as her features contorted with pain. Her hands were occupied. One gripping Daemon’s alarmingly pale one in a vice-grip and the other holding her swollen baby bump.

“I AM PUSHING YOU CHILD-LOOKING CUNT!” (Name) shrieked hysterically. Daemon covered his mouth in a failed attempt to conceal his snicker, “DAEMON, SHUT THE FUCK UP! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU ARE NOT BEDDING ME EVER AGAIN, YOU STROPPY SMALL-COCKED GIT!”

The room was soon filled with the loud set of shrieks that the whole castle could here. (Name) began to son happily as Daemon kissed her sweaty brow. “A boy, my Princess,” the midwife happily said, holding the naked, squirming, blood-stained babe in her arms.

“It is all over now, my shrew,” Daemon softy whispered, kissing her temple lovingly, “The babe is safe. He is healthy. He is kicking like a goat. Our son,”.

Minutes later, the Rogue Prince and the Shrew of King’s Landing sat on the bed, doting on their new son. The sound of subtle whispers, odd for their daughters, came from the corridor. The door softly opened, revealing their brood of silver-haired daughters in tow with a servant, Elaine.

“Come here, girls,” (Name) beckoned, smiling happily at her daughters, “Come and meet your younger brother,”.

Their eldest, Daenerys, was mature for an almost eleven-year-old and led her younger sisters. After an encounter in a brothel in the weeks leading up to Rhaenyra’s wedding to Laenor Velaryon, (Name) refused the Moon Tea from the Grand Maester and she hadn’t regretted it.

Daenerys was the eldest of now six children. Aemma, Rhaenys, Alyssa and Rhaella followed their eldest sister. “Girls, this is your brother,” Daemon said, holding three-year-old Rhaella on his lap, whilst five-year-old Alyssa climbed onto the bed with the help of nine-year-old Rhaenys.

Seven-year-old Aemma sat closest to (Name), doting on her brother. “This is Baelon,” (Name) told the girls, gesturing to the slumbering babe in her arms, fondling smiling at the sleeping baby boy.

The girls gushed over their new brother, each getting a turn to gently hold the babe. For none of them knew what the future held for them in the days coming.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

Laena Velaryon was dead. Set herself aflame after failing to give birth. The funeral was in to be held on Driftmark, as she had wanted. She’d left behind her husband, Ser Harwin Strong, and their twin daughters, Baela and Rhaena.

The funeral was teemed with tension and was a sombre occasion as Laena’s stone coffin was lowered into the sea. Laena’s mother Rhaenys looked devastated. Ten years it’d been since (Name) had seen her family. And much had occurred in ten years.

Alicent had bore her father two more sons, Aemond and Daeron. Rhaenyra had bore three sons, Jacaerys, Lucerys and the infant Joffrey, who were in no method possible Laenor’s biological children and had an, as Daemon put it, “entirely coincidental and unmarked resemblance to the Commander of the City Watch”.

After the initial funeral procedures, (Name) had noticed how the girls had made Baela and Rhaena smile a little and how her daughter Rhaenys had taken a shining to Aemond. Daenerys and Aemma were in deep conversation with Helaena. The interactions made her smile.

The girls had yet to meet their cousins, Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Or their aunt, Rhaenyra. Rhaella clung onto (Name)’s skirts, hiding behind the thick, black velvet of the dress’ material.

Baelon was a heavy sleeper, currently residing in his mother’s arms, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took and gave. She’d reunited with her cousins, Rhaenys and Corlys Velaryon, offering her sympathies for what happened to Laena.

As children and teenagers, (Name) had shared a sweet friendship with Laena, comforting her after the events at the Heir’s Tournament all those years before. They’d danced at the celebrations for Laenor and Rhaenyra’s wedding ceremony.

Her father looked terrible. His hair had thinned and he looked frankly horrible. Yet, he somehow gave his eldest daughter a smile. “(Name),” Viserys spoke. His voice sounded heavy as if it pained him to utter the word, “It is…good to you, my daughter,”.

(Name) gave him a half-curtsey, careful not to wake Baelon. “As it is equally good to see you, father,” she spoke, half-smiling, “Ten years. It certainly has been a long time,”.

Daenerys, Rhaenys, Aemma, Alyssa and Rhaella trailed behind their rogue of a father. “Brother,” Daemon greeted, “Time hasn’t been too kind on you,”.

(Name) thought he’d be upset but Viserys laughed slightly at Daemon’s comment. “These are your granddaughters,” (Name) said, “Daenerys, she is ten. Rhaenys is nine. Aemma is seven. Alyssa is five. Rhaella is three,”.

Viserys fondly smiled at each of his granddaughters. “They have their mother’s beauty,” the King mentioned. (Name) noticed how he’d visibly tensed at hearing Aemma and Alyssa’s names but smiled, “Is this my grandson, who cried a little during the precessions?”.

Daemon smirked. “His name is Baelon,” he casually mentioned, causing the king to visibly tense again, “After Father. He was born but three weeks ago,”.

“That was around the same time as when Joffrey was born,” a voice chimed in. Rhaenyra, with her sons,“Sister. Uncle. It is good to see you both again. And meet my nieces and nephew,”.

(Name) was elder than Rhaenyra by a year. Their relationship soured when Rhaenyra was named the heir to the Iron Throne, despite (Name) being Viserys’ eldest child. “Sister,” she smiled, “Those must be my nephews. Jace, Luke and…Joffrey, he’s inside, is he not? They will be good knights, so…Strong,”.

Viserys’ face blanched. Rhaenyra glared whilst the boys looked confused. “Do not take is as an insult, boys,” (Name) spoke in a manner that bordered on mocking, “It is good to be Strong, is it not, sister?”.

Daemon began to snicker. (Name) handed Baelon to Viserys, who held him in his remaining arm. (Name) sharply elbowed Daemon in the ribs, causing him to spill his cup of wine slightly.

Rhaenyra huffed, walking away to speak to Laenor. Luke followed Rhaenyra suit. Jace lingered. “Aunt,” he asked, catching (Name)’s attention, “May I ask you something?”.

“Of course, dear boy,” (Name) spoke, smiling at the brunette boy, “You may ask me whatever you wish,”

“Mother will not be honest with me about this matter…” Jace spoke, nervously fiddling with his fingers, “Am I a…bastard? Is Ser Harwin my father?”.

(Name)’s eyes widened in horror. Was Rhaenyra truly planning to put a bastard on the Iron Throne? She always knew her father was metaphorically blind, but not this blind. She was blatantly aware of her father’s favouritism to Rhaenyra. But she never knew it was this bad.

“Yes,” she spoke quietly, “I cannot believe your mother is not being honest about this to you. Harwin Strong is your father. Laenor is not your father. Nor is he Luke or Joffrey’s father. I am so sorry, dear boy,”.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

Earlier in the day, whilst Daemon was holding Baelon, (Name) found herself skulking around in black velvet after Laena’s casket had been lowered into the ocean.

“Hand turns loom…” the dreamlike voice of her younger sister, Helaena Targaryen, uttered, letting a spider crawl across the skin of her hand, “Spool of Red…Spool of Black…dragons of flesh…weaving dragons of thread,”.

(Name) crouched next to Helaena. “Sister,” Helaena greeted, smiling at her older sister, “May I tell you something?”.

The older woman smiled at her younger sister. “Of course, Hel,” (Name) spoke, “Anything,”.

As an infant, Helaena was restless and cried with her whole being unless she was held by (Name). “I have…strange dreams,” Helaena confessed, “And those dreams…become real as time goes on…do you think that is normal?”.

(Name) placed a hand on Helaena’s shoulder. “My dear Helaena,” she spoke, catching Helaena’s attention from the spider, “It is. You see…many years ago, before the fall of Old Valyria, our ancestor, Daenys, had a dream. She dreamed of the fall of Old Valyria two and ten years before it actually happened,”.

Helaena’s eyes widened, beckoning her sister to continue. “As Targaryens, we are known for our ability to ride dragons. Some Targaryens had the ability to dream of the future. Dragon Dreamers. I am a Dreamer, just like you. My sister, don’t ever let Aegon make you feel inferior without your consent. You are a marvel,”

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

The sun was barely setting when she discovered a horrific sight. Otto Hightower, who’d been reinstated as Hand of the King, was roughing up Aegon, who was half-drunk and slumped against the wall.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Lord Hand?” (Name) spoke, glaring at hole into Otto Hightower’s soul. Her voice had a frightening steeliness to it.

Otto bowed. She truly resented Otto, as a man and as Hand of the King. “Princess,” he greeted, “There is nothing to see here. I suggest you rejoin Prince Daemon inside,”.

She scoffed. “I would rather feed myself to Meraxes than listen to a word you have to say,” (Name) spat, folding her arms, “I know a few dragons who would gladly set you alight, akin to a torch. Caraxes, Meraxes, Vermithor and Silverwing, for instance,”.

Otto visibly tensed. He bowed and walked past her. “Sister,” Aegon drunkenly slurred, as (Name) heaved teenager up from the ground, “-Nice to see you again! I missed you!”.

“I missed you too, Egg,” (Name) smiled to the boy, placing his arm across her shoulders for support and guiding him up the stairs. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed, sweet Prince,”.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

It was the late evening when (Name) had been approached. The events following Laena’s funeral had been drastic. Young Aemond had claimed Vhagar as his mount, causing a fight between him, Jace, Luke, Daenerys, Rhaenys, Aemma, Baela and Rhaena.

It was an honest accident when Daenerys maimed Aemond and caused him to lose and eye. Alicent understood that. What she did not understand was that it was in defence of Jace and Luke’s legitimacy.

It’d blown up into a full-blown fight between Rhaenyra and Alicent, one of which had come at the other with a Valyrian Steel Dagger belonging to Aegon the Conqueror. (Name) had stepped in and gotten cut across the bridge of her nose.

There was a sharp knock at the door, catching both the attentions of the Rogue Prince and the Shrew of King’s Landing. “Enter,” (Name) spoke. The doors opened, revealing the visage of Otto Hightower.

Daemon blanched. “Lord Hand,” he bitterly spoke, “Have you come to darken our door for the ordeal earlier?”.

Otto sent a steely glare Daemon’s way, causing the Rogue Prince to mockingly smirk at him. “I have not, Daemon,” Otto spoke. Alicent stood behind him, guiltily staring at (Name), “I have come to speak to Princess (Name),”.

This caught (Name)’s attention, who was rocking Baelon softly in her arms, their daughters had since retired to the guest chambers with Baela and Rhaena hours prior. “Speak plainly, Lord Hand,” (Name) commanded coolly, briefly making eye contact with Ser Criston Cole, “What brings to you my chambers at this time of night?”.

“I believe we are…aligned,” Otto mused, adjusting the pin on his emerald-coloured lapel, making Daemon scoff, “In our beliefs in regards to the legitimacy of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons and the line of succession,”.

He was putting salt into the all the right wounds. (Name) was still evidently bitter about her younger sister being named heir over her and her plans to put her bastard son on the throne.

“My father is a fool,” (Name) confessed, softly stroking Baelon’s silver-coloured tufts of hair, “Nothing would change that. He is blind to the truth. Rhaenyra is his favourite child and nobody can deny that. He cannot accept the truth that Jace, Luke and Joffrey are bastards,”.

Otto smirked. “What if it did not have to be that way?” Alicent asked. This made (Name) glance at her stepmother, “What if another were to inherit the throne after the King’s passing?”.

“How would you like to be Queen, (Name)?” The Hand of the King quickly asked, making (Name) glance at Daemon, holding Baelon closer to her chest.

[phntmeii]

♡ Dating Jaime Lannister Headcanons:

❝ You are still maiden, I hope? Oh, good... I only rescue maidens. ❝

[ SFW + No Gendered Terms]

A/N: This list of headcanons is before the events of ASOIAF :) This is assuming he previously let go of Cersei and has no romantic connection to her recently and accepts his role as Heir/Lord to Casterly Rock after being dismissed from the Kingsguard for being a Kingslayer.

Kingslayer Era:

> Now, likely this matchup would be at the hands of a political marriage by his father, Tywin Lannister. After all, Jaime is his prized heir so Jaime already knows you must be someone who has quite a lot of good attributes yourself.

> Jaime is well aware of what a good match he'd be for quite literally anyone even despite his reputation. He's attractive, the eldest son of a noble house, a Great House at that, and one that is rich as fuck. He's also one of the most skilled fighters alive and quite literally noted to look "like what a king should look like."

> Jaime is the MOST cocky and flirty mf alive. He has Lannister pride and ego flowing through his veins and he revels in it.

> As a result, Jaime has no issue approaching you if he finds you attractive and immediately letting you know how he feels. He has a tendency to not think before he speaks and is generally blunt with his words.

> He 100% believes he has you wrapped around his finger the moment you spot him. Who wouldn't? It's the Lannister ego you can't blame him. It runs in his genes.

> Now while playing into his ego is all good and fun, putting him in his place or humbling him once you're in a relationship with him is a surprise but one that only amuses him and he listens to. AKA he is absolutely more in love if you tell him to stfu sometimes LMAO

> Once he realizes that you have genuine care and respect for him regardless of his reputation, this is what piques his interest the best and will get him to chase even more. The thought of someone’s genuine care rather than feigned admiration gets him to feel genuine warmth that he can’t help but chase after.

> He'd find both stubbornness and easy blushing as both enjoyable reactions to his advances. If you played "hard to get", he'll gladly be the one to chase.

> If you easily blush/get shy or flustered when he flirts, he will 1000% take advantage and use his charm to get reactions out of you as much as possible.

> His main Love Languages to give: Gift Giving and Words of Affirmation.

> This man is a LANNISTER okay?? He will absolutely "randomly" find you around to spoil you with different gifts and romantic gestures to gain your favor.

> Whatever gifts you want is literally yours the moment you even glance in that direction. Jewelry? Already yours. Clothing? It's in your closet already. You mentioned you like a specific flower? Prepare to receive a bouquet the next day.

> Although he does think that expensive gifts mean more, he's attentive in his gifts and gets you things he knows that you'll like. Simply because something is expensive won't take precedence over your actual interests.

> Also... Words of Affirmation?? This man quite literally is Prince Charming because he will absolutely charm you at any given point.

> He is obsessed with telling you how much he loves you, thinks you look good at every given point and how lucky he is that you ended up falling in love with him.

> Absolutely calls you a series of different pet names and rarely uses your actual name unless it's in a serious context or public situation.

> You can't even bring yourself to be upset for long at him because he'll find ways to make you smile just with his words. You can't help it when he's smirking at you while cheering you up because he knows he'll get you to break.

> His favorite Love Languages to receive are: Physical Touch and Acts of Service.

> Having you hold his hand instinctively when feeling nervous easily melts him because it lets him know that you trust him to protect you.

> Hugs, kisses, etc. everything just to show you appreciate and love him even as quick, little reminders while passing by will put a smile on his face.

> He absolutely will reciprocate and be an absolute gentleman with physical touch like offering his arm on walks and kissing the back of your hand with a slight bow.

> Acts of Service, specifically regarding caring for him, means the world to him. Assisting in bathing him, taking care of any wounds, bringing him a meal if you know it's been a while since his last one, or simply doing your duties properly around the Rock.

> He is incredibly respectful and protective over you. He values your needs and opinions as his partner and is absolutely willing to defend you and your honor at any time.

> Thinking of those lines "I'll go to war with him if I have to." I'll kill him, Ned Stark, the king, the whole bloody lot of them until you and I are the only people left in this world."

> His cocky exterior is true and influenced by his skill but he does possess insecurities that he doesn't share until later on in the relationship. It would take even longer than that to learn why he became the infamous "Kingslayer".

> There are times where he simply enjoys laying with you and venting a bit. Considering his massive expectations by nearly his entire family, he'll vent but remind himself of said expectation and may cut himself short. If you encourage him that it's a safe space, he'll reluctantly continue but feel better with your reassurance.

> He would genuinely be a good husband and you can count on it. While he has his duties as heir/lord, he always sets aside time for you and gives exclusive attention to you. You are his lovely partner after all. Your needs never escape his mind through his days.

> Genuinely goes to the ends of the earth to make you happy. Even if you order him around, he’ll wrap his arms around you from behind, enjoying your warmth for a moment before going off to do as you wished once you continue complaining to him.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[fl3shm4id3n]

Targaryen! Y/n watching the dinner brawl as if it were a bar fight:

[daniellewritesfr]

𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐜𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰

Chapter two

Paring: Robb Stark x f!Reader

Summary: After avoiding Robb for a few days you decide taking a short ride through the woods wouldn't hurt, but you find yourself once again in an unexpected encounter with The King himself.

Warnings: Plot building lots of plot building

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: I forgot to mention this is kinda a slow burn (sort of not really) anyway find series master list here.

It had been days since the last time Robb even caught a glimpse of you, he found himself frequently thinking about the conversation you two shared any chance he got. He understood he had more important things to focus on besides a woman he barely knew, for gods sake he was fighting a war yet, you had his mind running in circles. 

He was lost in thought when he was interrupted by Ser Brynden clearing his throat, Robb looked up from the map in front of him, staring at the knight waiting for him to speak, when he doesn't he turns to his mother who is watching him intently Catelyn motions her head down towards the table he quickly understands her look turning his focus back to the task at hand sliding a wooden figure across the map signifying where the Lannisters will strike next. The talk of battle plans and strategies rang throughout the large tent for hours before finally Ser Brynden excused himself biding both him and his mother goodnight. 

Catelyn stayed her eyes fixed on her son. “You’re distracted.” 

Robb quickly lifts his head looking at his mother. Was he truly that transparent? 

“I'm not.” he states looking back down at the map faking his focus. 

Catelyn moves to stand next to him “don’t lie.” Her tone shifted forcing Robb to look at her.

Her eyes were bearing into his in hope he’d reveal his troubles but he didn't. He just stared at her, slightly praying she wouldn’t ask anymore questions.    

Catelyn tilts her head looking at her son “we can not afford distractions.” She says, reaching her hand up briefly placing it on his arm before pulling away. He nods, “No, we can not.” His voice was quiet, his hand fidgeting with the pommel of his sword. 

His prayers were answered when she sighed “get some rest, gods know you'll need it” she says looking at him with a sympathetic smile as she left. 

Robb watches his mother leave, before turning around running a hand over his face with a groan, he sits down in a chair next to the table looking up at the ceiling of the tent. He needed to get a grip. 

You woke in the early morning, the sun not yet visible. The thin cloth walls of the tent doing very little to keep the cold at bay. You had been informed yesterday that you and your remaining men would be moving camps to one between Riverrun and Oldstones and that you were to begin preparing as soon as possible. You knew your men were in no condition to travel anyone with eyes could see that. Yet, an order is an order.

You don't move staying as you were for a while staring at the ceiling of your tent, till you hear the muffled voices of tired men as the rest of camp begins to wake, you groan managing to drag yourself out from under the warmth of fur blankets and throw on your clothes and some light armor you then secure your belt and pick up your sword and dagger sheathing them both before leaving the tent grabbing your cloak on the way out pulling it over yourself while walking. 

The sun was finally beginning to rise as you make your way to a tree which you’d secured your horse to for safe keeping, a beautiful Friesian horse stands tall pawing at the ground with one hoof as you walk up to him extending your hand running it along the side of his face, you lean close resting your forehead on his cheek for a moment, deciding a small ride wouldn’t hurt seeing that it was still early and it would be hours before the men were ready to move.  

You pull away grabbing the blanket and saddle that rested against the tree, gently draping the blanket across his back, then taking the saddle and hosting it on after. You secure the reins pulling yourself up on to him, giving him a pat on the side of his neck before bounding off into the woods. 

The cold morning air rushed past your face, the trees all but a blur as you pass them. You ride for a while before slowing to a halt, looking up you stare at the huge canopy of trees watching the branches sway in the wind, their leaves beginning to change from the green of summer to vibrant shades of red and orange, leaving a sea of fire throughout the forest floor. You bring your horse to a slow walk admiring the world around you when the faint sound of rushing water fills your ears bringing a smile to your face, you drive the Friesian to a gallop heading in the direction of the noise, as you near closer a sharp breeze whisks through the air causing you to pull the hood of your cloak up and over your head sheltering your face from the cold.  

It's not long before you find yourself face to face with a large river, the water rushing and hitting rocks in its path. Dismounting your horse, and securing him to a nearby tree you walk to the bank crouching down on one knee dipping a hand into the icy river you pull your hood down exposing your face. Staring at your reflection in the rippling water the bruise on your temple was beginning to fade from a violent purple to a brownish green, the cut itself self nothing more than a scab. Although it would scar. You take a deep breath, lowering both hands in the river cupping them, letting the water collect in your palms before splashing some on your face, hoping it would clear the lingering sleep. 

“It can be quite dangerous for a lady out here all alone”

The voice made you jump almost falling head first into the water, luckily you catch yourself quickly standing and turning around to face the voice, you draw your sword half out of its sheath before you realize who it is, the one and only Robb Stark.   

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, letting your sword fall back into place, before looking at him. 

He's seated atop a stocky brown horse, a heavy fur lined cloak wrapped around his broad shoulders, gloved hands resting on the reins in front of him with a grin plastered across his face. 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you” He says, you could tell he was amused with your reaction based on the small laugh that fallowed the words causing you to look down as you feel a slight tinge of embarrassment you hoped to hide.

Robb leans back slightly before dismounting the horse holding the reins in his hand leading it to a nearby tree close to where you’d left yours.

“You’re up early” He says while securing the reins to the tree, turning his head to look over his shoulder flashing you a small smile. 

“As are you.” You quip walking past him with your hands clasped behind your back glancing at him as you make your way to your horse. His eyes were glued on you as you passed.

“Seems we both prefer mornings.” You hum in response running your hand along the neck of your horse adjusting the reins before turning to face him. His eyes rake over you before settling on your face sending a rush of nerves flooding through you causing your hand to fidget with the hilt of a dagger attached at the front of your waist, that seemed to catch his attention his eyes fall from your face to your hands, he motions his head towards the dagger.

“May I?” He asks, taking a step closer leaves crunching underneath his boots.

You nod, removing the dagger from its sheath twirling it in your hand before passing it to him. The silver blade is not more than nine inches complete with a brown handle littered with intricate designs. He examines it closely tilting the knife watching as it catches glints of light, he softly runs his fingers along the blades edge careful not to cut himself.   

“It’s a beautiful blade.” He pauses for a moment looking up from the dagger to meet your eyes “Valyrian steel?” You nod.

“It was a gift from my father.” Your voice was flat not a tinge of emotion present.

In fact it was the only gift you’d ever received from him. It was one of the rare nights when he wasn’t in a foul mood. He had sat you down drunk as ever rambling on about great houses and their Valyrian weapons, when suddenly he revealed the dagger quickly shoving it into your hands, motioning at it telling you “go on look at it.” Carefully you had unsheathed it, releasing the blade admiring its beauty just as Robb. That was one of the few seemingly "decent" memories you had with your father if you could call them that.

The shift in your voice didn't go unnoticed by Robb, and for a moment he thought to ask you about it, but ultimately decided not to. So instead he nodded looking the dagger over once more then handing it back to you hilt first, you take it sliding it back into its sheath.

He couldn't help but stare, the dim morning light reflecting off the side of your face making you seem unreal. He seemed to be caught in a trance.

You cleared your throat snapping him out of the daze.

"I-" He paused for a moment collecting himself "I'm sure you were informed of our plans."

"If you mean me and my mens departure, then yes I was" You look at the sky behind him, the sun now well above the horizon filling the forest with light. "And by the looks of it I should take my leave."

Robb had insisted you let him accompany you on the way back, so here you were, the morning sun beaming down as the two of you ride into camp you were aware of the eyes lingering on your backs but you pay no mind. You both slow your horses to a stepping pace leisurely making your way through the sea of rushing soldiers. When you arrive in front of Robb's tent he dismounts his horse letting a young squire take the reins, Robb tips his head as a ‘thank you’ while the boy leads him away.

He turns his attention back to you. “M’lady.” He says, giving you a half smile.

“Your grace.” You bid him farewell, bowing your head returning the smile before bringing your horse to a trot heading off to prepare your men for travel.

Robb watched you leave, shaking his head as he turned walking through the opening of the large tent.

[catsteeth]

Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader 

+:✿ Chapter 2 ✿:+ : Beautiful Girl

previous chapter

Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister.  You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his. 

CW: afab reader, SMUT, MDNI, Fingering, P in V sex, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of harassment, mention of NSFW themes.

Word Count: 5125 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As you’d just finished getting Margery ready for the day she sat you down and began to ready you as well. It wasn’t custom for a Lady to dress and pretty her Hand Maiden but Margery had taken the responsibility voluntarily and happily. 

“Podrick was seen where?” You asked wide eyes, holding in a laugh.

“Little Finger’s brothel,” Margery replied with a smirk as she brushed your hair. 

You shook your head with a smile “I will not believe such rumors.” 

“I hear the whores did not receive a payment.” Her fingers twisting the front sections of your hair and braiding them together at the back of your head.

“You’re suggesting he didn’t pay them?” You asked with disbelief. He didn’t seem like the type of man to pay for a whore, much less the type of man to steal their time and effort. 

“I am suggesting they did not want a payment. I hear that he was so skilled, they wouldn’t accept his payment.” She said as she finished your hair and she sat in front of you, beginning to do your makeup. 

“Now that I can’t believe it.” You said holding back laughter,

“You never know for sure with men like him. Quiet, and sweet, they can be sensitive to a woman's needs.” She said putting 

“I’ve been pinned against enough trees on Bear Island by enough men to know, no tongue, fingers, cock, or even nose is good enough to turn down gold.” 

“Perhaps you’re right. But perhaps you’re wrong, there is only one way to find out.” 

“Oh please, he can hardly hold his gaze to mine.”

“Some would say that means he likes you, besides the poor boy gave you a flower. One of the sweetest, and pathetic things I have ever seen.” She jested.

“He doesn’t want me, not like that.” You always found it hard to believe that any man would be interested in you beyond bedding.

she rolled her eyes as she finished applying a rouge to your lips. She fixed your hair slightly and half a small compact mirror to your face.

“if i were a man i would ravish you.” she smiled as you looked at yourself in the mirror. 

Margery had done your makeup and hair countless times. Every morning after you’d done hers, but each time always made sure to tell you how beautiful you were. even if you didn’t believe it. 

“a man would ravish a horse if desperate enough.” you pushed the compact away, you got up and began to select the gowns you’d both wear to the celebratory feast tonight.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

That evening was a celebration of the victory of Tywin Lannister. Nothing for you to feel celebratory for, but it gave you an opportunity to dance and drink. 

Most of the night you and Margrey had danced with one another, made quite jokes about the other men there. But once the celebration began to wind down Margrey had found an excuse to speak to Joffrey, part of her plan to seduce him. So naturally you made yourself scarce. Finding a corner of the room to stand in while you drank.

It would have been perfect to end your night in peace if a tall man didn’t approach you. 

He could have been some noble man or a knight, kings guard, even city watch, you didn’t know and more importantly did not care. 

“My, who might you be, my Lady.” He asked, his voice was low and attempting to sound seductive. 

“(Y/N) Mormont.” You said as you drank from your cup, your eyes wandered the room, paying little attention to the attractive man in front of you. As your eyes searched the large room, they landed on a pair of eyes already looking at you, Podrick’s. He looked at you with the eyes of a sad dog. 

It caught you so off guard you didn’t hear whatever the man had just said, only the mumbling of words. You tore your eyes from his and looked at the man, “What?” burrowed furrowed in frustration. 

“I said, then you are not much of a Lady.” He said with a twisted grin

“Is that so?” You said emotionlessly, unwilling to show any kind of offense that might have been taken. Fearing it would give him too much power. Besides, you did not care about the opinions of southerners. 

“Hand Maidens are not Ladies of any land, are they not?” 

“Perhaps.” You said your eyes returned to scanning the room, trying to find Podrick again, but having no luck.

“I could make you feel like one for tonight.” He held out his hand to you,

You held your cup to your lips as you spoke, “I’ve no wish to dance with you, Ser”.

“I cannot dance with a handmaiden,” The man smirked, his hand snaking around your waist. “I can enjoy one though.” He whispered in your ear.

You smirked back, and then you leaned in, making him think you were about to kiss him when you kicked him in the shin. “Oh!” You fained shock as he grunted in pain “My apologies Ser, I have always been quite clumsy.” Your concerned and shock demeanor dropped as you began to walk away. He began to spit some curse your way when you stomped on his foot. “If you’ll excuse me, my Lord.” 

As you walked forward a few steps before the man grabbed ahold of your wrist.

“You northern who-” He was interrupted by Podrick’s voice. 

“My Lady, the Queen wishes to have a word with you.” He spoke louder than usual. His eyes were wide and looked almost angry. 

You ripped your hand away from the man's grasp and walked with Podrick out of the room. 

“What does she want?” You asked, rubbing your wrist. 

“Nothing, I made that up.” He said avoiding your gaze as you both walked down the hall. 

“You made that up?” You looked at him with wide eyes, he nodded still avoiding your gaze. “Well, thank you.” You said softly. 

He’d walked you all the way to your chambers with no other words were exchanged between the two of you, other than the occasional glance at one another. You had reached your chambers door, you looked over at him as you began to open the door. 

He was ready to nod and walk away when you said, “Podrick,” To which his eyes went directly to yours. You didn’t say another word, just walked into your chambers leaving the door open. 

He hesitated for a moment, but walked in after you. 

He stood there, showing just how intimidated he was. 

As you kicked your shoes off, and removed the necklace Margery allowed you to barrow for the night, you looked over your shoulder to him “Close the door.” You said softly, and so he did. 

As you turned to him and began to walk towards him, his eyes subconsciously went from your eyes to your cleavage. Now more exposed now that you’d removed your necklace. He couldn’t help it really. Your corset and gown were truly putting them on display, and the candle light from your room made your skin glow beautifully. You smirked when you noticed, making him swallow hard and return his gaze to your eyes. He was going to apologize but you reached for his hand making him choke back any words he had. 

You held his hand, looking at his now healed cut, now formed scar across the palm of his hand. 

You trailed the scar with your finger tip. 

“You’re seducing me-” He finally found some courage to spit out some words.

“You feel seduced?” You still held his hand, still admiring your work on his hand.

“Yes- I mean, it is intentional isn’t it?” He stammered, somehow a little out of breath.

“Do you want it to be?” You looked at him with a grin and mischievous grin.

“I don’t want to offend you-” He said softly, looking away.

“So you don’t?” You let go of his hand,

“No- no,” His eyes went wide as he stammered, “I want you to, want to seduce me.” He winced at his own words, not knowing how to phrase it.

“Why would that offend me?” You smiled softly, holding back a giggle.

“I am just a squire, my Lady.” He shook his head looking down

“And here in King's Landing, I am just a handmaiden they send to patch up knights and Lords.” You said softly 

“You are Lady Mormont.” He said, it made you smile. No one had given such respect to your name in so long. 

“You’re sweet.” You brushed his short hair around his ear with your fingertips “Have you ever seduced a woman?” You asked sweetly, you knew the rumors of the whore house, but didn’t know if you could believe it.

“No, no, not really.” He said like we were being honest… maybe he was.

“Show me how you would.” You said looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

“What do you mean?” 

“How do you think I was seducing you?”

“You, made me… feel-” he stammered.

“Mhmm, so try to make me feel…” 

He stepped closer to you, meekly, his head lowered. He reached out and lightly ran his hand over your hair. Taking a strand of it and looking at it, admiring the color of it, and its texture. He looked into your eyes, his head still lowered. 

“You are beautiful.” His hand then went from your hair, to trailing his hand gently down your arm and grabbing your hand softly. He played with your fingers, again, gently. 

“I believe you are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.” He didn’t stammer, his voice was earnest, and gentle.

“This is wooing, not seducing.” You smiled and corrected him as if he were acting, genuinely thinking he were making it up. 

“I’m not trying to do either, my Lady.” Your smile dropped, “I just wish to be near you.” 

“You shouldn’t.” You said pulling your hand away.  “How we first met, tell me that.” 

“Lord Slynt ordered you to pour him wine-”

“And I spit in it.”

“He deserved it.”

“I lied to him, and your lord.” 

“Not to me.”

Your hardened gaze softened “No, no not to you” You lowered your head avoiding his eyes. afraid you’d melt in his sweetness. found yourself feeling that warm feeling in your chest again. You reached for his fingers with your own. interlocking your index finger with his. 

“You are- different.” He stammered a bit “Special.” He corrected, thinking it sounded more flattering. 

“You really are sweet. I don’t believe I've met a man so sweet as you.” He smiled, and in turn you smiled back, “You are shy, more so normally than you are now.” 

He let out a small chuckle “I still feel shy.” He said as he looked down smiling

“Are you too shy for me to kiss you?”

Instead of responding to you he cupped your face in his hands. So gently it was as if you were made of the finest porcelain in the realm. He leaned in and kissed your lips. Soft and again, gentle. but also passionate and almost lustful. You were surprised how well he kissed. No, he didn’t kiss well, his kiss was intoxicating somehow. Maybe it was the wine on his lips or just skill. you couldn’t help but let out the smallest whimper into his mouth. It made him pull away and go wide eyed. 

“You’re quite good at that.” You said wide eyes, catching your breath a bit.

“I apologize-“ He said, still holding your head in his hands.

“For what?”

“I should have asked you first,”

“Too late for that now,” you said, slinging your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. Your lips fell into a perfect rhythm as his hands moved to your ribs, careful not to touch your breasts. his thumbs moved against your ribs slowly and gently. 

You’d never felt this way with a man before. Normally it was sweaty, sloppy, and you ended it burnt out and covered in spit. This was like a dance, like you and he had kissed in every life. 

You felt terrified. An emotion you rarely ever felt. 

What if he was like every other man. They whisper sweet things in your ears, promises, and compliments. Then once they lifted your skirts and humped into you a few times they’d leave. You felt hurt the first time, maybe the second time too. But after that it was expected. So you never let yourself become invested in a man again. You used them as they used you. 

But this was different, this wasn’t only lust, there was something more. But was this feeling only yours, or did you share it? You needed to test him, only you didn’t know quite how. 

“Stop” You whispered in his mouth as you kissed, it made him stop immediately, and he stepped away from you, breathless. 

“I- I’m sorry” He said about to go for the door before you stopped him grabbing his arm.

“No,” 

“But you said-” 

“I can’t bed you like this.” You said running your hands on the tight fabric of your gown.

“Bed me?” He asked as if he had choked, it made you smile.

“Will you wait here for me?” You asked, petting his cheek, and he nodded slightly confused.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You had gone into the bathing room that was attached between your room and Margery’s. You bathed quickly, washed your hair, washed your face of its makeup, and slipped into your night dress. The only thing you wore to cover your nakedness. 

As you opened the door you saw Podrick lighting the fireplace in your room. He stood as he heard you open the door and looked in your direction as he said, “I thought you might be cold-” He was cut off by the sight of you. His eyes were enamored by the sight of you. 

You hadn’t shown him this side of you. Totally free of glamor and shine. “Thank you,” You said as you walked towards him. 

As you stood in front of him he still couldn’t let out any words. “Do you… not like it?” 

He shook his head quickly, “This is the most I have ever seen of you.” he placed a hand on your cheek. “You are truly the most beautiful woman I have ever known.” 

You searched his eyes for a hint of deceit and found none. You took the hand he placed on your cheek and sat down on the fur carpet that laid in front of the fireplace, pulling him down with you. You looked at the scar on his hand again, this time placing a kiss on the scar. 

“Thank you for what you did tonight.” He looked slightly confused, “The lie you told.” You explained.

“I didn’t want to interrupt, but then I saw how he grabbed you.” He looked down, now beginning to simmer, “No one should grab you like that.” He said in a lower tone. “If I’d a sword, I wouldn’t have to tell a lie.” He became angered thinking of it.

You moved closer to him, beginning to undo the clasps on the front of his top. He looked intimidated again suddenly, “A sword hm?” He nodded, “What would you have told him?” 

“To unhand you, or I’d remove his hand.” He said, with a darker tone of voice, it made you smile as you pulled his red leather top off, leaving him in his tunic. 

“One day you’re going to be the only honorable knight in all of Westeros.” You saw heat rush to his cheeks when you said those words. “A big strong shining warrior.” You said crawling closer to him. 

“You’re seducing me again.” He said staring at your lips, his eyes drifted downwards again to your cleavage again now further exposed by the thin fabric and the angle you were in from crawling to him. 

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked in a whisper,

He shook his head “No,” He said, grasping your face in his hands kissing you so deeply you let out a small moan into his lips, only making him kiss you deeper. 

His hands roamed your sides, as yours gripped the back of his neck and roamed his chest down to his stomach.

When your hand reached his stomach you felt his muscles twitch and he let out a small groan. The sound of his groan made you clench your thighs together. 

Mixed with the sounds of your breathless whimpers he felt himself stiffening, “Can I touch you?” He whispered in your ear, you nodded and he whispered back “Thank you,” As his hands cupped your breasts. He let out a moan into your mouth as he groped you, feeling the plumpness of your breasts. You couldn’t take it anymore and began to lift your night dress. You stopped yourself however, not wanting to push him, 

“Is this okay?” You asked, and he nodded frantically. To which you smiled and lifted the rest of it off. His hands gripped your breasts tighter, and his mouth moved from yours to your neck and shoulder. 

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered against your hot skin, repeating it over and over again. 

One of your hands petted his hair, while the other went over his stomach to his now tenting trousers. You heard him moan into your neck and his hands gripped you tighter, making you moan in return. 

“You sound beautiful too,” He whispered 

“Take this off” You said much less elegantly as you pulled at the fabric of his shirt. As he did you laid down on the fur carpet under you. Looking up at him as he removed his tunic. You smiled up at him, “You’re quite pretty too.” 

He shook his head in awe of you, “Not like you… You could be a painting,” He said, dropping to his knees. He leaned down and kissed your lips. Both your lips at this point were slightly swollen, but that didn’t stop either of you from continuing. Kissing with a new kind of passion. 

You felt, for a moment, this might be much more. And if it was, you didn’t want to hide from him at all. You pulled away from his lips as you blurted out, 

“I’ve been with men before you.” breathlessly, “I feel I should be honest with you.” You felt even more naked revealing that, you felt heat spread across your face.

“That’s alright.” He nodded, trying to reassure you. “And I- I have- I’ve been with women before you.” 

Your eyes went wide, you thought back to the rumors you’d heard. “You have?” You shook your head to yourself trying to shake those thoughts out of your head. “That’s alright.” You said looking back at him, you smiled softly “It is, it’s alright.” You felt a hint of excitement, pulling him back into your body and to your lips. 

You two kissed for a moment until his mouth ran down to your neck, covering your body in as many kisses as he could, making you giggle. Giggle until you feel his thumb run down the slit of your folds. Which made you gasp slightly and then smile at him, and he smiled back. 

He leaned down and began to kiss and suck on your breasts. 

You felt yourself becoming a wet and sticky mess and his thumb continued to roll up and down the slit of your folds, masterfully avoiding your clit, teasing you. 

Finally his index and middle finger parted you, while his thumb gently teased your clit. 

“Mmmmmm” you let out as you closed your eyes. 

“Do you like that?” he asked softly into your breasts, all you could do was nod as he applied more pressure. 

his teeth grazed your nipple with expertise. As though he knew just the right amount to use, how much you liked. 

He continued to kiss, suck on, and sometimes lightly bite your breasts. You felt yourself clenching around nothing as he moaned soft praises into your skin. while he kept circling your clit. 

It was beginning to be too much and not enough. “More,” you whined, “Your fingers.” you said. 

He nodded, “Show me, show me what you like.” 

you reached your hand below, rubbing your clit only a little, then you pushed a finger in. He watched as your eyes closed from the pleasure

He inserted his finger alongside yours, feeling how you moved your own finger inside you. 

The extra digit in you stretched you so nicely, you let out a small sigh as you smiled at him and he smiled back at you.

You inserted a second finger, and he followed suit. The stretch burned slightly, it had been a while since you had been with a man, and now already you’d four fingers inside you. Albeit two were smaller than the other two but still. You whined a little as you winced slightly. It made him lean down and kiss your lips. 

“You’re wonderful” he said as he kissed your jaw and your neck, pumping his fingers in you with your own guiding him. You then removed your fingers, content to let him take control. 

His fingers knew when to curl and when to relax, when to push against the soft spot in you, and knew just the right speed. No man had ever known how to draw out such pleasure from simply his fingers with you. 

“Podrick-“ you gasped at certain curl of his fingers, 

“My lady?” he said into your lips, 

“Call me my name,” you said into his, 

“(Y/N)…(Y/N)..(Y/N)…(Y/N)..” he repeated softly as he kissed your cheek, then your other cheek, then your forehead, then your eyelids, nose, and finally your lips. 

You took his face into your hands, as gently as he took yours in his. You kissed him sweetly, as you pulled away you whispered “I want to make you feel good,” 

He smiled and let out a small chuckle “I feel very good,” 

You shook your head and rubbed your palm onto his tenting trousers, making him close his eyes tightly, “I want you to feel even better.” 

Your touching continued until he was grunting and bucking into your hand, “I- I have to take these off.” He said with a bit of shame as he fumbled with the strings of his trousers. You gladly helped him with a smile on your flushed face. 

As he was freed from his pants, you took him in your hand, looking at his cock. It was bigger than you had expected, and by far the prettiest one you’d seen. Most were crooked, too thin, or too wide but his was perfect. 

“Pretty thing you’ve got there,” You said with a smile as you pulled him into another kiss. 

As you did you pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, slinging your leg over his body. 

He looked flustered with your boldness but pleased. “Thank you,” he responded. 

“You’re welcome,” You said as you lined his cock, slick with precum against your entrance. His hands gripped your hips as you lowered yourself, pushing him inside of you. 

You let out the prettiest of moans from your lips as did he. 

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you grinded him into you, in and out. The way his cock twitched inside of you hit the soft spot in you so deliciously each time, making you moan even louder. 

You looked down at him, you ran your hand against his cheek as he looked back at you with a soft smile while moans left his lips.

The look in his eyes as he watched you squirm and whimper was a look you were not accustomed to.

All of the sudden, he pulled you down and rolled you onto your back. You were face to face, his arms wrapped around your body and yours around his. Your legs around his waist as he bucked into you, again and again. The way he did it, was as if he had done it a thousand times before. 

He moved his hands to hold your face, and his other to hold your hand. 

His thumb rubbed against your cheek, sweetly. Just before it left your cheek and trailed down your body to your cunt. Rubbing your clit in circles. 

He could feel you clenching around him, his speed picked up and his mouth returned to your nipples. But his hand never left yours. 

“I’m cuming, Podrick, I- mmhmm” You whined, only making him speed up even more. 

You felt your legs shake, your toes curl, and the pressure in your stomach snap and the warmth in your core spread around his cock. You let out the prettiest of moans as you came. You gripped his hand tightly. And he peppered your chest and your neck in kisses. “I want you to cum,” You whispered as he continued to fuck into you.

“So warm… so wet.” He whimpered against your neck, “Gods, I need you.” 

His thrusts in you became more and more erratic, you anticipated his cum filling you, you anticipated the heat that would fill you. You wanted it, badly. You smiled as you saw his face contort knowing it was coming, but he pulled out and came on the ground next to you. 

You whined a little, “I wanted it,” You said in a whisper. 

“You?-” He looked confused “You wanted it?” 

You nodded, pouting a little. 

“Why?” He asked, not being able to understand it, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to- to sully your body.” He said, sweet sentiment. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈꒱꒱

After he cleaned it up, you had gotten in bed. 

He dressed himself back in his tunic and walked over to you where you pulled him into your bed. 

He held you against his body, and you held him back. He just stared into your eyes, as he pet your cheek. He admired the way you looked against the light of the fire. His eyes trailed down your body and he saw the bruises he left from his kisses on your breasts. His thumb grazed over them as he said “I’m sorry, I-’ 

“You did nothing wrong,” You said as you gripped his face and pulled him down to kiss his lips. “Do you think your Lord misses you?” You asked jokingly. 

“I think he is too drunk to notice.” He said smiling at you, “What about your Lady?” 

“I think she was too involved in Joffrey to notice.” You said with a giggle. 

“Sleep with me tonight?” You asked softly, 

He nodded and he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your neck.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

When you woke up, you were alone. 

You felt a little betrayed but you knew he had duties. 

Later that day you were ordered to check on Lord Tyrion’s injuries as the Maester was too busy to see to it himself. 

When you knocked on the door to Tyrion's chambers Bronn answered the door, he eyed you up and down, making you roll your eyes. 

“My Lord,” You said walking into Tyrion’s chambers, brushing past Bronn and avoiding his gaze. 

“Ah, the bear girl.” Tyrion said,

“(Y/N) Mormont, my Lord.” Podrick attempted to correct him, which made Bronn huff and roll his eyes. But you smiled at him, and he smiled back. 

“Yes, Podrick, I know her name. My family is holding her captive after all.” 

You smirked at his admission, ‘How’re you feeling?” You asked as you sat a leather bag of medicines and supplies on a table. 

“Oh quite pleasurable.” Tyrion said sarcastically,

You turned towards him, dropping your concerned demeanor “I need to know if it stings or itches, if it’s infected, it could spread to your eyes, you’ll go blind, it could spread to your sinuses which could make you go deaf, and if it spreads to your brain you’ll die."

“You’re a gentle flower aren’t you?” 

“Always have been. The Flower of Bear Island they called me.” You said sarcastically with crossed arms, making Tyrion huff a chuckle, “Yes and now they call me bear girl and whore, so if you could be so kind and cooperate I can see to it that you don’t die.” 

Podrick held back a smile at your strength.

“Alright, no burning, itching, or stinging. Satisfied?” Tyrion said as you sat beside him.

“Somewhat…” You said while examining the cut. 

Podricks eyes were entranced by the way your eyes darted around the Lord's scar, how you examined it with such expertise. How your eyebrows narrowed and your lips pouted slightly when you focused intensely on something. How when you wrapped a new bandage around the Lord's face you bit on your bottom lip. As he stared at your lips he thought of your first kiss, how warm and soft your lips were, he thought of your sweet taste. He wanted to grab your face and do it all over again. He was so deep into his fantasy he hadn’t even noticed Tyrion had called his name twice.  

Bronn smacked Podricks head, making him snap out of it as Tyrion repeated himself again. 

“Pod, see Lady Mormont to her chambers.” 

“Yes, my Lord.” Podrick nodded

“Oh I'm sure the lad would love that.” Bronn said as you and Podrick left the room.

Once the door to Tyrion's chamber was closed you turned to Podrick with narrowed eyes. 

“You told them?” You asked with venom.

“No, no, no I wouldn’t.” He stammered, not wanting you to believe he would do such a thing to you, “I wouldn’t. I believe I am just not very good at concealing my… interest in you.” He said softly so no one would hear. 

It made you smile. 

“I am sorry I couldn’t stay, My Lady. This morning, I couldn’t stay, Lord Tyrion would have sent someone for me.” He said softly again.

“I told you, you can call me by my name.” You said not willing to say it was alright but not willing to say it wasn’t. “Did you forget it, Podrick?” You teased him

“No, no (Y/N)” He said your name with a smile.

“Good, I thought your interest in me had finally subsided.” 

“I don’t think it could.” 

It made you smile again, 'seven hells' you thought, falling for such things.

You looked around and saw no one in the hall, you pulled him into another kiss.

NOTE:sowwy this took so long, i wuv you!

TAG LIST: @ryn-away @boojaynaqueen @holierthancunt @symonedoesart

[syrma-sensei]

→ A Doe's Trap.

gif credit.

pairing: daemon targaryen x baratheon!reader.

rating: explicit.

word count: 3.9k

warning: daemon targaryen is a warning himself, usual westerosi agendas.

PART II: A GOLDEN LOCK.

masterlist | ao3

COURT IS INFINITELY BORING; the flashing red colour on the outside walls is merely a clever cover for the ennui of what's happening inside. And the Small Counsel is, Seven Hells, dreadfully, the most tedious place one can choose to spend time in. King Viserys, however, is persistent on having his younger brother in his counsel. His Grace has given his orders and nobody, not even the Rogue Prince, can refuse his liege's commands.

Nevertheless, even his royal duties and counsel obligations get habitually interrupted by certain cunts. After several replacements for his job —stirred by those cunts— the prince, eventually, takes the post of the Commander of the City Watch, and he isn't pleased one bit. The supposed city protectors are nothing but lost and lowly scum. But he knows better, that cunt of a Hand wants nothing but to offend the Prince and his potentials, such an elaborated attempt to irritate the hot-tempered prince; the current heir to the Iron Throne is nothing but a mongrels tamer. But if the bearded wanker thinks himself subtle, then he's terribly mistaken, thus, Daemon accepts the challenge. Because after all, if he truly wants to be King someday, conducting with the riff-raff is a good way to prepare himself for the role, rather than transacting with sickly old men who swagger through the glories of their ancestors and making none of their own.

Tonight though, to his bother, he has to take a break from his new duties, for King Viserys has blessed the court with yet another of his many festivities. Queen Aemma, his cousin and sister-in-law, is with child, again. The celebration is held in the Red Keep's grand yard under the full moon's glimmer. And to his surprise, Daemon finds himself rather enjoying himself in the fresh air.

His violet eyes are fixated on the table where the King and Queen are seated, two vacant chairs next to them. One is his, and the other is Rhaenyra's, his beloved niece. His gaze, however, is not, by any chance, drawn to the royal couple, rather, the ones who escort the Queen. That specific one, with the blue eyes and dark hair. The Baratheon Lady, his precious doe.

She stands next to her queen as one of her most trusted ladies-in-waiting. With a bright mind, and pure soul she has captured the hearts of most men, and the Prince is no exception. The niece of Lord Boremund Baratheon is sent by her lord uncle to represent their house at court in her aunt's stead, Lady Jocelyn Baratheon, Prince Aemon's widow. Once the Prince saw her, she stirred something familiar within him. Something he thought he'd not feel as he fucked his way through almost every whore of the Street of Silk. The place that provides him maidens whenever he desires to claim their innocence. What's better than a whore maiden but a paramount and maiden lady?

Virtuous isn't a word one can label Daemon Targaryen with. Rather, the Rogue Prince has an equivocal proclivity for those of virtue, of purity. He cannot brush off the image of that beautiful doe clinging to his shoulders and sobbing in delight beneath him, while he rams inside her virgin hole as he deflowers her. He fantasizes her calling his name as she willingly gives herself to him, as he fucks Mysaria in the recent days, and his high would be unmatched. The only thing can outdo it is having the doe herself in his bed.

The doe senses his heavy gaze, and her sapphires lock with his amethysts, and she tries to hide her sheepish smile. Gods be good, he can't decide wether he likes that smile of hers, or the cries she'd be making when he's inside of her. His predatory eyes follow her slender figure after she dips in courtsy for the King and Queen, excusing herself. He traces her golden gown, the one he'll have much pleasure ripping it off of her and see what she's treasuring beneath it.

“Good evening, Prince Daemon.” The doe bows to him, then he sees clear blue eyes looking straight into his, the plumping heart between his ribs skips for a moment, “Congratulations on your new office!”

“Why, thank you, Lady Baratheon.” His tone is solemn.

“Please do not call me as such,” The doe bites on her lower lip adorably, “We're much more familiar with one another.”

Ah, the red cheeks, they're definitely his favourite, and perhaps what's more delightful is making them grow redder.

“Much more familiar? Hmm.” Daemon teases, “Then why did you not come and congratulate me when I first got appointed as the Commander of the City Watch, my lady?”

Daemon's grin goes wider as his tiny trick makes her cheeks flush with dark crimson.

Tearing her face aside, she says under her breath hotly, “Gods,” Then her eyes are staring back at his face again, adding hastily, “I'm terribly sorry, my Prince! The instant I heard of the marvelous news I looked for you everywhere to do so, but...”

Her blue eyes dart everywhere but his face now. Daemon purses his lips into thin line, tugging a dark lock behind her ear. “But what, my lady?” His tone is bored, unamused, supposedly.

“Please, let me explain, Your Grace.” He nods, granting her her wish. “I did want to be the first to congratulate you. But when I couldn't find you anywhere, they told me you're making new arrangements for the City Watch; to ameliorate the state of the soldiers.” She adds breathlessly, and Daemon can clearly imagine her breathing heavily after he sends to her highest high. “So, I presumed you were occupied with much more important matters, and I couldn't bring myself to take from your valuable time.”

Oh, isn't she delightful? So sweet, so caring. Does he deserve such consideration? Of course not. Should he take it? An absolute yes. How not? And she's practically showering him with it.

Daemon twists his lips, grinning. “In that regard, I should forgive you, my lady. But on one condition.”

“Name it.” Her answer comes immediately.

Ah, he does like those moments when her Baratheon blood rises, when she shows signs of challenging and daring, and the confident feature she wears is truly pretty.

So, Daemon indulges her. “I want you to honour me with a dance, my lady.”

“A dance?” She arches a dark brow quizzically, shockingly.

“Does it not rise to the doe's expectations?” He teases her again.

And for the second time, it remarkably works. “Did I give such an insinuation to the dragon?” The way her brow switches from puzzled to intrepid puts the Prince under a charm. The irony, how effortless and unintentional her gestures are, but oh, the way she wraps him around her beautiful fingers. How bewitching she is.

“It is said that dancing is much similar to battling.” She adds, “I dare not stand against you in the second, but dare I say, I enjoy doing the first with you. It is a sliver of reminiscent of what fighting by your side might be like on the battlefield.”

It's Daemon's turn to raise an eyebrow. “You wish to dance with a dragon, little doe?”

“Yes, very much so.” She says it with utmost thrill.

“Even if it might get you burned?” He asks her, eyes glistening with something menacing, but the doe does not see it.

“He won't hurt me.” The certainty in her eyes makes Daemon's head whirl. Perhaps he isn't the only one under a charm.

“What you speak is true.” His smile is gentle this time, and what he speaks is also true. Lust did indeed blind him at first, and the desire to defile her has driven him mad for quite some time. But no, after getting to know this doe, his delicious prey, he cannot bring himself to hurt her. But has his craving for claiming her ceased within him? Not once. It's been like raging fire, huddling and jostling in his chest, and taking hold of his head. It's like a curse afflicted upon him. He's no patient man, and the gods have put him in a laborious test. But again, since when the gods are indulgent with man? But Daemon Targaryen is as unyielding as them as well. And he'll be so until the gods get bored of him and give him what he wants. Daemon, however, won't wait for gods to get lenient. He shall take it by himself.

They dance, the dragon and the doe. And the shy lady is back again as her face turn red as she is spinning between the Prince's arms, holding his hands. Their feet move in such harmony with the music, and they capture everyone's eyes. Her face is close, so close to his, and hers is as dark as blood. Her fresh breathing is on his face, and the dragon inside him goes feral. He wants her. Gods, He utterly and wholly wants her.

The music comes to a stop, and a cheered applause rages from around them. King Viserys is the strongest clapper, and the Queen shakes her head at her husband's excessive excitement.

The dancing comes to a pause, and the King raises a toast, and the feast for all is set. The guests eat, drink, and laugh. The King gets drunk soon enough, and the Queen becomes tired. Viserys keeps on drinking, while Aemma retires to her chambers to rest. The Prince is next to his brother and niece, thinking of the doe who's nibbling on her food ever so delicately.

It is a rare thig she is, to be born a Baratheon and have a tender character. It's known that the stags are of vigorous spirits and adventurous endeavour. But unlike her house and himself, she seems quite enjoying herself at King's Landing's court. That, however, does not nullify the hints of fury within her soul. She's a daughter of a stag after all, and stags have always attracted the eyes of dragons; his great-grandmother, Queen Dowager Alyssa Velaryon, married Rogar Baratheon, lord paramount of Storm's End, their wedding is known as the Golden Wedding. And Daemon's cousin, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, is half Baratheon herself from her mother's side, Lady Jocelyn Baratheon. Daemon still remembers how Caraxes was enthralled by his doe when they first introduced them to eachother; she has Valyrian blood after all. He smiles at the memory, she has the dragon and his rider enchanted.

“You're quite taken by her, uncle.” Daemon's ears prick at Rhaenyra's High Valyrian.

“Quite the woman she is.” He replies in their mother tongue.

“Indeed.” She nods. “She is quite taken by you as well.”

That piques his interest, his niece has all of his attention now. “Oh, really? How did you learn that, Princess?”

Rhaenyra chuckles. “Oh, uncle, you have no idea how much smitten she is with you.”

Trying to conceal the curiosity eating him up, he clears his throat. “How so?”

“You have a reputation, uncle.” Rhaenyra remarks, “But the lady refuses to believe it exists, claiming that she knows you better. She sees you as her knight in shining armour.”

A queer sensation clasps on the Prince's heart. And for a moment, he feels as if someone has kicked the air out of his lungs. He directs a wavering smile to his niece.

“How unfortunate.” Then he falls silent, and speaks very little for the rest of the night.

After an hour of feasting, the music replays, and a merry yet drunken enrapture sweep over the place. From his seat, Daemon looks for his doe and he finds her laughing at some stupid jest cracked by Ser whoever the fuck he is. When their eyes lock again, she smiles at him sweetly, but he doesn't return it. Instead, he stands up, and maneuvers his way through the drunken singing and wobbly dancing.

It was an ill decision to come here from the outset, but what choice he had when the King forces him to attend the banquet that's held in the next royal's honour. The one might brush him off from his current line to the throne. Daemon, sometimes, thinks that his brother taunts him deliberately, and perchance he's pulled by other hands.

He directs his indignation upon his royal brother as he threads his way to his private chambers; where he's going to drink himself till sleep, and maybe giving his cock a hand-fucking before falling asleep. Momentarily, he thinks of visiting Mysaria, but no. He needs some solitude away from everyone else.

Once in his chambers, he shrugs off his formal attire and slips into more comfortable clothing. Before he starts his drinking session, he hears soft knocks on the door; he grumbles. Perhaps the one behind the door wants to be the victim of his wrath tonight.

Striding down to the door, he opens it sharply. He freezes.

“Prince Daemon.”

Gods, how does she do it? Putting off that raging fire within him onto ice just like that. Mayhaps she is an enchantress after all.

“Lady (Y/N).” He responds.

“Is everything alright, my Prince?” The concern in her eyes tugs the strings of his heart.

“Yes.” For the first time, Daemon finds his lying unconvincing. Seven Hells.

“Then why did you leave the feast in such manner?” The doe inquires, brows knitted, “You made the King worry.”

Of course, she came here upon an order by his brother.

“You made me worry.”

Daemon regards her, then he retreats back to his chambers, leaving the door open. A private invitation for her to follow him inside which she obliges to.

“What caused you distress, my Prince?” The eager concern in her voice makes him melt. A strange mixture of sensations coil at the tip of his stomach. It is the first time she comes to his private chambers, and he feels as if he led her into a trap. The poor doe, she doesn't know she just entered the dragon's den, and in his current state, he has no guarantee of what he might do next. He is mad.

“You.” Daemon spins around and faces her, she stands a few steps away from him. “You cause me distress.”

Gasping, her dainty hand rises to her now heaving chest, and her blue eyes widen. “How could I ever do so?” Daemon takes a step towards her, and her eyes are focused on his figure. “My Prince, I implore you to—”

Seven Hells. His doe can be annoying when she becomes rather talkative, sometimes. And it is a perfect moment to silence her in the way he most desired; his lips on hers. And oh, they are much more delectable than he ever imagined, and he could've sworn he can sip wine from them.

The doe stands still, eyes as wide as saucers, as he claims her lips as if he is the thirstiest man alive. When realization casts upon her at last, she pushes him away. Daemon whips his mouth looking at her. She's horrified.

“Do forgive me.” Daemon looks at the floor, not bearing to gaze at her scared face. “But I've been wanting to do this for a long while.”

When she doesn't answer; he dares look up at her face again. A more questioning expression adorns her face instead of the terrified one moments ago. She doesn't flee, nevertheless. Which is a good sign, Daemon supposes. He narrows the gap between them, cautious steps as if he's afraid that the doe to run off.

“I desire you.” He confesses, “Gods, you're the one I lust for the most.” His hands reach for her reddened cheeks. “I want to have you. Let me have you... please.”

“How can I let you have me, and we're not wedded, Daemon?” He sees two thin strings of tears rolling down her cheeks. She tears her face aside. “Gods, they warned me about you.” She sobs, “They told me to steer clear of you, but I didn't listen.” A hand covers her mouth. “The Queen even promised my lord uncle to match me with another to prevent your dark reputation raising questions about my virtue.”

Any ounce of sense left in him until this very instance is blown away now. The Prince's hands latch onto her forearms, and he draws into a vicious kiss. He tastes the salt in her tears and he's fuming.

“You're mine.” He whispers against her mouth, “Mine. You belong to the dragon, and anyone dares to think of having you, they'll have to deal with fire and blood.”

“Daemon, please...” She cries. “I do not want it.”

The Prince cradles her face softly, his hot breath licking her face. “Tell me, what do you really want, little doe?” He brushes the tears away, “Tell me what you wish for and I shall grant it for you.”

His fragile doe gulps, looking at him with the eyes of a prey begging for mercy between its predator's jaws. “Do not allow us to be separated.” She weeps, and her heart feels heavy.

“No, no, little doe,” He says in whisper, “Not a single soul can separate us, my little doe. Give yourself to me. Let me corrupt you...” He inhales, he's almost begging, “Let me defile you, and they'll have no choice but to let us be.” He leans to her ear, adding, “Let me fill your belly with my child.”

“Do not let another have me, my dragon, please.” She clutches into his chest, beseechingly.

Daemon's violet eyes dart over her face, before he plunders her lips again. His hands adroitly baring her, layer by layer, until she stands naked before him. Through her blurred mind, the realization of her nakedness casts upon her. She gasps and tries covering herself.

Daemon, on the other hand, laughs, shaking his head with such amusement. “Do not shy away now, little doe.” He makes her lay down on his bed, removing her hands from the parts she attempts to hide. “Let me see your beauty.”

Daemon has to pin her hands on the either sides of her head to make submit to his request. He looks at her body, and she turns redder and hotter than Caraxes's fire.

He has to admit, she exceeds any fantasy he ever had. And now she's all his to claim. The Seven be fucked, this is the one who deserves worshiping, perhaps she is The Maiden herself, and mayhaps he can be her Warrior.

“Fuck.” Daemon hisses, “You're beyond anything I've ever imagined.”

“Daemon...” Her voice is breathless, “I-I feel queer things in my stomach.”

The Prince laughs again, kissing her temple. “They are good things, my lady, worry not.”

She nods, unsure of what might happen next. Daemon isn't going to disappoint her. Although the strain in his loins is unbearable, he takes his time to spread what he dares to call... affections upon her. His rough-padded fingers massage her shoulders, his lips lavish her erected nipples, and his mouth leaves no spot of her soft skin neglected.

When his fingers reach her core to fondle, she asks him about the moistened sensation. He shushes her, and tells her it's normal and a good sign. He brushes her clit and her moans become uncontrollable, he enters a digit and she screams.

Daemon laughs and grins as she's innocently grinding against his fingers, chasing something building inside her belly, she tells him. He adds another, then another, and her virgin drawers can take no more and flutter around his fingers with a sigh of his name leaving her mouth.

“Is this why people lay with eachother, my Prince?” She asks when recovers from her high, sweat glistening on her forehead, “Even when they don't want to have children.”

Daemon chuckles amusedly. “People fuck for many reasons, little doe. Pure pleasure is what, sometimes, one only seeks.”

“The Seven forgive me,” She says in something akin to shame, “But I want you to fuck me, Daemon.”

The words, coming off her tongue so effortlessly, make the blood travel straight to his cock.

“It might hurt you, though.” He warns.

“No,” She raises her chin stubbornly, “You won't hurt me.”

Before he gets off the bed, he kisses her. Then, he starts to take off his cotton tunic. He glimpses at her, and he finds her tracing his moves, intrigued. She gulps when he slips his dark trousers off, her pure eyes witnessing a man's cock for the first time in her life.

He chuckles, and cannot let the chance slide without a tease. “You like my small dragon, little doe?”

“I wouldn't call it small, my Prince.”

The latter throws his head backwards as a loud laughter bursts out of his chest. “Yes.” He lands a knee on the bed, dipping further to her face, bringing her hand to touch him. She looks up at him then down at his cock, as her hand faintly brushes the dripping tip. She shivers and he grins. His hand never letting hers crawl away. She gathers some courage when she sees him delighted, and her fingers curl around his cock, squeezing gently as he twitches. Daemon grunts deeply as her inexperienced hand caresses the bulging veins of it, and he feels himself coming. With a groan, he removes her hand away. He didn't want to scare her off with loads of white strings slamming her stomach and face. Rather, he wants it deep inside of her. “Open your legs for me.”

She does so, but uncertainly. He positions himself between his legs, wrapping her legs around his sculpted waist. Inevitable tears pour from her eyes as he thrusts himself into her, and Seven Hells, her virgin cunt feels heavenly. How her walls suck him up greedily even though he's yet to move.

With a hoarse voice, the doe whispers his name over and over, as he takes her slowly while his hair is ghostly brushing her arms around his neck. She cries and begs, and he kisses and reassures her that he'll give her what she wants. She tells him it's building again, and he hits that innocent spot of hers again and again until the fluttering he felt around his fingers is now happening around his cock. He's already at his limits and his seed fills her waving cunt.

“Well done, little doe, well done.” Daemon eases her quivering body.

When he pulls out of her, the Prince is utterly surprised when the doe flips their positions, as she straddles him instead. Their liquids are oozing from between her legs onto his muscled stomach. Shock is blatant on his face as she bites on her lip unsurely.

“What is this, little doe?” He teases, “I supposed this was your first.”

She lolls her head down timidly. “I've always wanted to do this with you, everyday when I look at that painting in the Queen's chambers.”

Daemon is well aware of what picture his doe is referring to. That salacious portrait Queen Aemma has received as a gift from Lys. It's called: The Seven Arts of Love. Perhaps his sister-in-law has kept it as a mockery of the belief of the Seven. He'll never know, or perhaps the Seven made her keep it, so his doe would witness it and mock him with her straddling him on their first night. The notion stirs him to the bone, and his cock is painfully hard now.

“Perhaps another time.” He cups her breasts softly. “This position is not meant for the first time.”

A surprised yelp escapes her mouth as he flips her again beneath him, clicking his tongue. “If you want to ride a dragon, little doe, you have to tame him first.” He leans down, his silver hair dangling over his shoulders, “And believe me, it is not as simple as you might think.”

“We shall see, my dragon, we shall see...”

[k4marina]

heart of the dragon sneak peak :)

here's a little peak at the next chapter of heart of the dragon 🙈

On the far left, where the line of paintings began was a family portrait. There was writing engraved on a golden plaque underneath the painting. 

“Aenar Targaryen, First Lord of Dragonstone.

Gaemon Targaryen and Daenys Targaryen.”

Underneath Aenar’s and his two children's names were the names of his many wives, five to be exact. I haphazardly read through the names, most of which were of Valyrian women, a few from different areas of Essos. 

“Vellela Irnoran, that’s most likely from the Free Cities, Naqari Ghe- shit, how do I say this? Ghezihl, oof, that has to be Ghiscari. Jelaehna Vellar..ys.” 

Jelaehna Vellarys. Jelaehna Vellarys. Vel-lar-ys. 

“No fucking way.”

lmk what u guys think !

@wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @ministark @laanswife

[targaryen-dynasty]

ZĪRTYS PERZYS.

Prev. Part | Next Part

Maegor Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, p in v, teasing, breeding, size kink, size difference, slight humiliating/gaslighting?, slapping, teasing, mentions of blood, cutting of lips and hands, Valyrian wedding, female reader (no mentions of appearance besides purple eyes)

WORDS: 3.7 K

Maegor had kept true to his words. A sennight had passed until you stood in the Throne Room opposite him, the High Septon carrying out the wedding ceremony. 

But no matter how lavish it all was, how many people attended the wedding and its feast – it was not what you wanted. 

And your husband knew. 

For all the years you had been around Maegor, following him from a very young age, there had been enough occasions where you two had talked about your ancestors and the Doom that came over them. Therefore, you had more than one chance to tell him about your desire to wed in their traditions one day, regardless of whether you and your betrothed would share the blood of Old Valyria or not. 

Your wedding in front of the people of court and the High Septon merely seemed to be a means to an end to keep the smallfolk satisfied. You were wife number four ever since he ascended the throne four years ago, even though you currently were the only wife he had. The women that came before you had been dead for less than a year – something you hadn’t known of until he had told you the morning you followed him and Balerion to King’s Landing. 

And with the bedding following the ceremony and feast, you were officially wed… in the eyes of the Faith. 

But that did not mean it was official to you. 

Not more than nine days had passed since you left the castle of Dragonstone for the Red Keep, but it still felt completely different when you set foot on the island again. 

Many hours had you spent in Aegon’s Garden prior to your father’s death, surrounded by its roses and tall trees and basking in the peace and quiet. The familiar and pleasant scent of pine was enough to calm your fluttering nerves and brought back the memories of when your life had not been plagued by death and war. 

A gentle breeze blew through the tresses of your hair as Grand Maester Benifer led you through the ceremony, acting as an officiant and the third witness to your union – your mother and aunt being the other two. 

The ancient headpiece adorning the top of your head was not heavy, yet your pounding heart made you overly aware of it being there, and you could not wait to be allowed to take it off again. Even though dozens of Valyrian women before you had worn it to their weddings, it merely was a coincidence you had found the traditional marital robes you and your uncle now wore. They had been neatly stored away in a dusty chest in the depths of the Sea Dragon Tower, not even Maegor had been able to find them for his wedding to Alys.

Sitting somewhat tautly around his muscular arms and shoulders, Maegor’s robe did not fit him as well as yours fit, appearing as if it had waited all its life to be worn by you on this special occasion. 

Having read about the ceremony and traditions over and over again, you knew by heart what was to come, yet your eyes still widened a bit as Maegor raised a fine shard of dragonglass, zīrtys perzys in the tongue of your ancestors. Awe and fear alike blazed through the purple of your eyes, whereas you spotted a hint of something different in the gaze of the man opposite of you. Affection? Or even love?

Your hands trembled slightly as Maegor placed the shard in one of them, knowing exactly what was to come and to do since this was not his first wedding in the customs of Old Valyria. Hesitantly bringing it up to his face, the tremors did not ease with you dragging it over his bottom lip. The blood that gathered at the cut was no surprise, however, it still unsettled you to think of your lips undergoing the same procedure just a few moments later.

The gentleness with which he took the shard from your trembling hand was little comfort, and as he cut your bottom lip in return, you wondered how he had endured it without wincing as you did. 

After he had gathered some of your blood from the cut on the pad of his thumb, he dragged it over your forehead, drawing the Valyrian glyph for fire on it. You did the same, the glyph for blood written on his. 

A shiver ran down your spine as you carefully watched him cut his hand without any sign of discomfort or pain, figuring he was just as savage and brutal as everyone around you had said, used to the pain and to worse. But this was not about savagery or experience, it was about your union, to be wed by blood and fire. 

Only then it dawned on you just how much you had longed for this to happen – and how long you had waited for it. 

All the years you had spent cross with your father for not offering Maegor your hand in marriage, and even sending him into exile to Pentos, seemed ridiculous now. If only you had known back then that you were going to end up in his arms anyways. 

“Issa aōha pālegon,” Maegor whispered, his gruff voice barely audible over the rustling of leaves and excited roaring of dragons in the far distance. It is your turn. 

Staring at his cut palm for a bit too long, you examined how the blood gathered in the curvature of it, and how much it actually was. The shard of dragonglass was in his other hand for you to take, and everyone around waited for you to repeat the gesture and cut your hand. 

But you could not bring yourself to do it. 

Every time you thought about your wedding, you had never considered the pain that came with it. And now, it was all that was on your mind. 

Shaking your head, you swallowed thickly, flexing the fingers of your still outstretched hand. “Kostan daor,” you muttered, your voice breaking slightly, causing Maegor’s eyes to widen. Was he afraid? you wondered. “Kessa ōdrikagon.” I can not. It will hurt. 

When he tried to place the shard in your palm, you pulled it back, yet your uncle was quick enough to seize your wrist with a strength he had only rarely displayed towards you before. “Gaomagon ziry,” he warned, a sharp edge to his voice that prompted the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up. Do it. 

You whimpered, more so as the cold dragonglass pressed against the thin skin of your wrist, close to cutting it. “Gaomagon–Gaomagon ziry syt nyke,” you stuttered, “... kostilus.” Do-Do it for me… please. 

He tilted his head to the side at your words, sizing you up, the grip on your wrist loosening almost at the same time. The slight crease showing between his brows indicated his confusion - or mayhaps even annoyance - yet he still complied. Taking in a sharp breath as the shard sliced your skin, the singing pain did not lessen, especially not when your hands united in a firm grip to make your one bloodline stronger.  

Replacing the shard of dragonglass with a goblet whose content was unknown to you, it was Grand Maester Benifer speaking, while you both took generous swigs of the dark liquid. 

“Let it be known that Maegor of House Targaryen and Y/N of House Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

Your heart pounded in your throat, and the coppery taste on your tongue made you aware that you had licked your nicked lip in anticipation of what was to come. 

“You may speak the vows,“ the Grand Maester continued. 

“Iksan zȳhon se issa ñuhon. Hen bisa tubis, ēva se mōris hen ñuha tubissa,” Maegor said, looking down at you with admiration flickering in his eyes. I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days. 

And then it was your turn. 

“Iksan zȳhon se issa ñuhon. Hen bisa tubis, ēva se mōris hen ñuha tubissa,” you replied, with eyes locked with his. I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.

Your husband recklessly threw the goblet aside to snake his arm around your waist, drawing you closer towards him with your cut hands still connected. He briefly looked over to the Grand Master and the Dowager Queens, before focusing his attention back on you. 

“With this kiss, I pledge my love,” he cited in the Common Tongue, to which Grand Maester Benifer bowed his head once, and dipped forwards to claim your lips in a kiss that was shy of being reserved. 

Your marital robes and smallclothes lay in a scattered trail from the door to the bed, some still pooling around Maegor’s ankles as he held you tightly in his strong arms with your legs slung around his waist. His hard cock was nestled between your bodies, pressed against his lower abdomen and generously coated in your arousal. 

It felt as if your lips had not parted once since your kiss in Aegon’s Garden, still as fervent and demanding as it had been back then. 

Maegor tipped his head back slightly to break the kiss, yet yours tilted forward to chase his lips eagerly. He tsked at that and grabbed your chin to keep your head still, allowing him to press his lips to your jaw before they wandered to the curve of your shoulder. His teeth nibbling your skin, in combination with his tongue dragging over the light marks they left, sent you into a frenzy, distracting you enough from the sudden pressure of his cock prodding at your entrance. 

He had placed a large hand under your arse, effortlessly lifting your body so he was able to grip the base of his stiff member, tugging on himself twice before holding it steady to line himself up with your entrance. 

You felt him slide inside inch for inch at an agonizingly slow pace as if he wanted to make sure you were aware of every vein and ridge of his cock that dragged along your quivering walls. But the tightness of your cunt was practically sucking him inside, eager for him to fill you to the brim

Where you took in a sharp breath to brace for the sting that came with the intrusion, Maegor released a husky groan, slightly muffled with his lips still on your shoulder. You tilted your head back to moan shakily, the grip of your legs around his waist tightening in an attempt to lure him inside quickly. 

Your back arched against him, but the tight squeeze of your arse was enough to stop any further movements, pain and pleasure alike blossoming within your belly. 

“Gods be good,” you whimpered, burying your head in the curvature of Maegor’s neck the moment you spotted him carefully studying your face contort in pleasure. You felt his hand trailing from your arse up your spine with feather-like movements, until it settled at the back of your head, entangling in your hair and tugging on it to yank it back. 

You winced slightly, which probably made him aware that he had used a bit too much of his strength, immediately releasing your tresses. “Do not hide from me,” he crooned, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. “Let me see how good I am making you feel.”

Swallowing thickly, a meek nod was all you could do in return. It was the admiration in his gaze and the determination in his voice that rendered you speechless. Despite the fervor in his pleasure and the long-suppressed desire he felt towards you, Maegor had never been more careful, rawer and more vulnerable with you. 

He had one arm snaked around your waist and the other hand still buried in your hair, solely relying on them to support your body, keeping you mounted on his cock as he slowly prowled towards the bed. And even though you had adjusted to his size, neither of you moved. 

Carefully laying you down on the bed, it was inevitable for him to slip out in the process, leaving you pouting and yearning for him to fill you again. 

He stood in front of you completely naked, truly a sight to behold, and it still had not fully settled that you were to witness that sight for as often as you wanted from now on for the rest of your lives.

The light the candles granted was dim, yet bright enough for the beads of sweat to highlight his pale skin, accentuating his rippling muscles. His cock stood tall against his lower abdomen, appearing painfully hard as it glistened with your arousal. 

“Stop the sulking,” he said, though there was a hint of amusement in his gravelly voice. 

You licked your lips, your eyes flickering between his and his cock. “Come here and make me.”

Maegor chuckled dryly but was convinced enough to join you on the bed. You scooted further towards the headboard and spread your legs for him, making enough space to accommodate his bulky frame. 

Kneeling between your parted legs, he leaned forward and grabbed the headboard with one hand, towering over your small frame. The other clasped around the base of his hard member, aligning it yet again with your entrance. 

You anticipated him to enter you right away, a little moan of excitement leaving your lips even before you felt him prodding against your cunt. A mocking scoff left his throat once he noticed what had happened, shooting you a knowing glance that had you cowering beneath him from embarrassment.

Mayhaps it was you eagerly anticipating it, just wanting to tease you and keep you waiting a few moments longer, but Maegor instead dragged the tip of his cock through your soaked mound, generously coating it in your slick. As he repeatedly rubbed it over the little bud at the apex of your legs, you couldn’t stifle a whimper from slipping past your lips, your hips rutting against him instinctively. 

A wide smirk was plastered over his features, his gaze wandering down your frame, settling on what was happening between your legs. “Aren't you a naughty one, mh?” he said, making eye contact as he still teased your pearl, clearly enjoying the way your body reacted to him. 

Heat blossomed on your cheeks, and you looked to the side. “Stop the teasing… please,” you whimpered, coyly. “I-I need you.”

Maegor stopped the teasing to pinch your chin, tilting your head for you to meet his eyes, the tip of his stiff member nestled between your soaked lips but not pushing inside. “But sweetling,” he started, the name spoken in a condescending manner that made your skin crawl. You definitely should not have liked him talking to you like that. “I am not teasing you in the slightest,“ he crooned, “I am simply being affectionate. Do you want me to stop?”

With your eyes wide and lips parted, you meekly shook your head, the intensity of his gaze as he awaited to hear your voice putting your body on fire. “N-No.” You weren’t sure what to expect if you would ask him to stop, somewhat anxious to offend him in any way. 

His cock was so close but also too far away, and while you were certain he could go another hour without being inside of you, you lacked that composure. Trying to angle your hips to the point the tip of his cock was breaching your entrance, Maegor firmly connected his hand with the side of your thigh – not as strong as you had anticipated, but still strong enough to have a hot pain spread from your flesh right to your cunt. A renewed wave of arousal seeped out of your core right onto his cock. 

“My my, would you look at that?” Maegor cooed, bathing you in a sense of feigned safety and calmness. “Who would have thought that my little niece is such a harlot?”

He placed his large hand on the spot where he had slapped you, soothing the stinging flesh with gentle movements. It was a stark contrast to the initial slap, and even though it confused you, you relished in the gentleness. 

“Mae-Uncle,” you mewled, pressing your lips into a thin line to stop them from pulling into a pout. “... please.”

An impish smirk pulled on the corners of his lips. “Please, what?”

“By the Seven,” you whined, balling your hands to fists at your sides in frustration. “Just-Just give me what I desire!”

Maegor raised his brow, seemingly impressed by that little outburst and the lack of coyness with which you said it – completely different from how you had acted before. “Oh, how could I ever say no to you?” he rasped, hungrily licking his lips. His hand wrapped around his cock again, and he kept it in place as he pushed inside in one, swift thrust, forcing himself into your tight heat. 

You forgot how to breathe as you tried to adjust to his size again. It felt as if he was harder than before, if that was even possible, filling you to the brim at once. You clenched down around him, and the choked gasp he released made your heart swell with pride. 

Despite the slight aching of him being a bit too rough and big for you, an immense pleasure started to blossom in your belly, granted by his curved length plunging in and out of you. 

A dip in the mattress next to your head, and Maegor had supported the weight of his bull-like frame on one elbow, inevitably bringing his chest closer to yours. His other hand had long abandoned the headboard to grab your thigh, hoisting your leg around his waist. 

You drowned in the proximity. His weight pinning you to the mattress, the warmth that emanated from him, his scent — it all pushed you into a frenzy. 

Maegor was balls deep inside of you, bullying the spot that had you seeing stars and hiccuped your breathing. As you looked to the side with your eyes squeezed shut, he was quick to cup your chin, tilting it back to force your eyes to meet his. 

“How does this feel?” he asked, uncharacteristically tender. 

You arched your back, arms wrapping around his thick neck to bury your hands in his short hair. “So good,” you whined, the words swallowed by Maegor pressing his lips to yours. 

You tugged on his silver tresses, walls squeezing him so tight you couldn’t even tell if they had even unclenched before. The kiss was fervent, full of passion, and was all teeth and tongue – unlike any kisses you had shared before. 

It might have been the feeling of your marriage finally being legitimate to the both of you, or you two being completely alone without any prying eyes and ears or people of court, but even the bedding was different from the many times you had shared a bed before. 

“Such a good girl,” Maegor grunted against your lips, rutting his hips into yours. “Mayhaps I shall reward you tonight and put a babe in you. Would you like that?”

Keening at the praise and the significance of his words, your walls started to flutter around him, clenching and unclenching without a rhythm. 

“Yes, please,” you slurred, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. “Please, give me a child.” You were not sure if it was the thought of being round with his seed or the sensual rolling of his hips, but your mind went fuzzy with pleasure, clouding each thought to the point you could only think of his cock dragging along your walls. 

Where you could have sworn you could have indulged yourself in his proximity just a little longer, your body seemed to act on its own with your peak suddenly washing over you. Your body was taut, convulsing as he fucked you through the sensations, reveling in the way your moans grew louder and wanton. He mouthed along your neck, his hot and heavy breath fanning over your skin. 

In your state of bliss, you had barely noticed the increasing pace and intensity of his thrusts. “I shall give you what you desire,” Maegor rasped to which you merely replied with a breathy ‘yes’. 

The snaps of your husband's hips grew harsh and uneven as he crested the horizon, spilling his seed deep inside of your quivering cunt. His fingers dug harshly into your cheeks now, still cupping your chin while groaning into the crook of your neck. Maegor was relentless as he fucked his seed deep into you, desperately wanting it to take and bear fruit. 

Once the throbbing of his cock became less, he collapsed onto his side, purple eyes squeezed shut and needing a few seconds to steady his breathing. You watched him with a tired smile on your lips, reaching out to scratch your nails over the coarse hairs on his chest. 

“What?” he asked as he opened his eyes to you smiling at him. 

Hesitating to ask the question, afraid of the answer breaking your heart, you licked your lips. “What if I do not give you a boy?”

But it seemed that the failed pregnancies of his wives before you had softened his heart, even if only a bit, because he brought his hand to yours on his chest, lacing your fingers. “I do not care, for as long as it’s healthy.” Bringing your joined hands to his mouth, he pressed his lips to the back of yours while maintaining eye contact. 

The gesture and his words had your heart fluttering with nothing but love and admiration for the man everyone dubbed ‘the Cruel’, yet he was not cruel to you. 

Pulling you close, he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Sleep, wife,” he crooned, “we shall reside here just a little longer.”

And sleep you did. The best you had slept in a very long time. 

Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @watercolorskyy @xxxkat3xxx @baedebnam @simonedk @heavenhatesme

[chromiumagellanic06]

The Silver Knight: Warrior, Princess, Wife

Daemon Targaryen x Female [Targaryen] OC

"Do they call you Silver Knight for the hair?" but when she shook her head, Daemon added, "I do not pry, Naera. I simply wish—"

"To know me," she finished his words this while, frowning, and added, "but I do not wish the same."

In which, Princess Naera Targaryen, after returning from her time in Essos, is forced to grapple with her arranged marriage to her uncle, and strange visions encircling a Breaker of Chains, some 200 years in the future.

DISCLAIMER: This fic includes incest/targcest, uncle-niece incest, smut, domestic abuse, brutality, violence, blood, some breeding kink, etc.

All image credits go to their respective owners. All rights for the published content for the characters goes to GRRM and company. (Naera Targaryen, the OC is a fan-creation.)

Chapter 01: A Summons

Chapter 02: Civility

Chapter 03: Melisandre

Chapter 04: Kepus

Chapter 05: Khaleesi

Chapter 06: Wisestone

Chapter 07: Daemon

Chapter 08: Three Answers

Chapter 09: A List

Chapter 10: A Wedding

Chapter 11: A Feast

Chapter 12: Perfection

Chapter 13: Brilliant

Chapter 14: Solar

Chapter 15: Dreamer

Chapter 16: From my blood

Chapter 17: Lord of Light

Chapter 18: A Lack of Understanding

Chapter 19: Second Sons

Chapter 20: Letters

Chapter 21: Rhaenyra

Chapter 22: Green

Chapter 23: Visenya

Chapter 24: Confession

Chapter 25: Love

Chapter 26: Returns

Chapter 27: Dragon

Chapter 28: Loss

Chapter 29: Complete

[allkordelia]

Friends...to Lovers?

The sea dragon sigh throwing down her stuff on the floor before landing face first into her soft mattress, she been gone at sea for a year and half with her uncle sailing. They went to many places in westeros and essos starting with Lannisport and finishing with Lys, a exciting journey for the girl it took her ages to convince her parents to let her go but after a lot of begging and many promises later they allowed her to go and help with the trade.

Her time out at sea surprised her, she spent more time in the air than in sea but somehow her father's blood truely ran deep in her, it felt natural as she assist around the ship Sea Snake and help her uncle navigate and sail. While on her journey, she meet a lot of people during her time in the free cities and saw many famous structures the whole trip made her get a itch to explore more, which made her explore each continent with a brothel just out of curiosity to see the difference from the ones in king's landing. The ones that daemon took her to when they return to king's landing were pallid and dry from the fake moaning and overdramatic screaming were funny but disconcerting, she told him that after he was finished with one of his lady friends.

~

She watched as daemon walked out from behind the thin sheet that didn't really hide what they were doing along with two girls who had a satisfied smiles on their face, he put on his tunic and took a seat on the other side of the table before pouring himself a glass of mead.

"Enjoying yourself, cousin. I can always ask the madam to send a man or woman to keep you company." She let out a laugh putting the mead she been nursing for quite some time to her lips.

"Again I say no thank you, only here to observe and take in." He chuckled leaning against his chair watching the naked woman walk or dance around.

"And what are your foundings, cousin." He asked moving his cup to his mouth.

"Well, from only being here for few hours I have come to conclude that these men are shit at fucking." She watched with a wide smile as daemon spit out his mead and laughed, and she couldn't help but join him.

"How can you possible know that?"

"For one, the fake moans and overdramatic cries of pleasure these women sprout from their mouth gave it away, and the unsatisfied looks once they walked out." Daemon chuckled again shaking his head.

"I doubt that it matters just as long they getting paid good." She hummed in respose with a look.

"I guess, but if it was me I would want more money for putting in so much work pleasuring you only to get unsatisfied." She said with giggle, daemon looked at her with eyeroll and soft scoff.

"What would abstient little thing like yourself know about pleasuring a man." She didn't say anything to that making daemon look at her, she rolled her lips inward as she looked straight.

"Tell me it isn't so the daughter of the sea snake lost her purity." He whispered making her roll her eyes.

"Who was he?" He asked curious with a small grin, "...and give details did you suck his cock or just got right to fucking." She looked at him.

"No, but he was gladly to go down on me before we did it." She smiled widely making daemon eyes widen.

"A man with good taste..." he looked at her with flirtatious eyes making her shake her head, "...and who knows what he likes sounds like me...I like him." He says putting his cup to his lips, when he said that she made a noise causing him raised his brow at her.

"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew who is was." He gave her a look before answering.

"Is it that dornish prick, ser whatchamacallit caspian because if it is your dead to me." He pointed a finger at her making her giggle.

"No and it's not the very handsome ser criston cole, but the son of someone you despise." He was thinking of the person's he might be talking about but it didn't stick.

"I despise a lot of people fathers you have to be more specific, love." She sighed exasperating picking her cup again.

"Ser Gwayne. It was ser gwayne." She said before downing the rest of her mead, she glanced over at daemon wore a blank look.

"You fucked that slimy cunt's son have you no dignity." She sucked her teeth as he overreact.

"Fuck off, daemon. Gwayne is sweet and gently and very good with his tongue." Daemon groaned displeased at what he was hearing.

"Great. You just ruined my evening." She chuckled as she watch him pour more mead in his and her cup, as he pulled out small bag the tall curvy red red hair madam walked up to their table.

" Leaving so soon my prince, mysaria would be displease to see her favorite customer gone so soon." The madam said.

"She'll get over it." He says nonchalantly dropping a couple of coins on the table, the madam hummed before turning her head towards the sea dragon.

"I never seen you around here before, new?" The young girl looked up a bit taken back at the woman attention on her, the sea dragon nodded as she averted her eyes down. Unknowingly to the woman but the young girl was dressed like lad so she can walk the streets of fleabottom without being notice by guards.

"Have you ever been in a brothel before, my lord?" The young woman shook her head no.

"Well, your always welcome back any friend of daemons is a friend of ours," the madam hand landed on the woman thigh making sea dragon go wide eye, "...and because your so cute I'll be happy to be your first...on the house." The madam winked making the young sea dragon opened and close her mouth speechless.

"...my cousin will love to but it's past his bedtime." Daemon said standing up making her follow suit.

"Maybe another time." The madam smiled pecking the sea dragon on the cheek before walking away, the young woman glanced at daemon stunned making him laugh and pull her out of the brothel.

"You know you should do it, I promise I won't tell." He leaned his body against hers making her smile and shrugged him off.

"So, same time tomorrow." He ask as they turn a corner down an alley, the young woman shook her head.

"I can't I'm leaving with my uncle tomorrow." He stopped as she turned to him.

"Where?" She shrugged.

"No idea. He is taking me on my first voyage, which leads me to ask if you can watch over Elixia. I can't really take her with me." She gave him a tight smile he leaned against the wall next to her with small smile.

"You won't last a day at sea, you belong in the air...with me." He said looking at her making her roll your eyes.

"Do I now?" He nods before towering over her, the young serpent didn't look a bit taken as she raised her brow.

"I love you." He whispered making her smile.

"Love you too, buddy." She patted his chest before moving out from under him and walking away, daemon looked after her with a smirk. He hurried after her putting his arm around her shoulder pulling her close to his side as she giggles and put her arm around his waist, they both walked the streets of fleabottom laughing all the way to the castle.

~

She opened her eyes at the thought of daemon she wondered what he was doing at this moment, the door to her chambers were opened she didn't move to see who it was only hearing their voice.

"My darling?" The voice of her mother rang their her chambers making the girl shift and look at the door, a confused and unsure looked plastered her mother's face caauing her to sit up.

"Yes, mama. Is everything okay?"

"You tell me, prince daemon targaryen is in the courtyard summoning your presents." She furrowed her brows she been back for only an hour and he already knew she was home.

"I'll be there in a minute let me just close my eyes for few more seconds...." she close her eyes laying back down on her bed snuggling into her pillow, her mother stared at her for a minute before coming into the room.

"You been spending a lot of time with the rogue prince,"

"He is my friend and has been for a while now, he likes my company and I like his." she heard her mother make a noise.

"I hope you mean in a talking and dragonriding way." The young woman rolled her eyes under eyelids.

"Of course, mother and I told you what happened with ser gwayne out of respect. Do you think I am that stupid to do it again with daemon no less."

"Watch your tone with me, young lady. I know you are smarter than that and I trust you to make good decisions, it's daemon I do not trust." Her mother said.

"We all know the rumors. What he spend most of his time doing in fleabottom or silk street, and how he likes bedding lord's daughters and...his temper." Her mother sounded a bit scared making the young girl frown a bit.

"I know, mother. But, daemon is my friend he wouldn't do anything to hurt me." She heard her mother sigh before feeling the back of her mother's hand caress her cheek.

"I hope your right, but be cautious my love he is like a untamed dragon beautiful and magnificent from afar, but if you get too close he might burn you." She opened her eyes to look at her mother before the princess leans down to kiss her daughter's head.

"Do not be too long, my darling." Her mother said before leaving her alone to think about her words.

~

She walked out the castle to see daemon was looking up at the sky as the sun shined upon him, he looked different his hair was short and he wore a crown on his head.

"Does my eyes deceives me or is that daemon targaryen?" She spoke loudly with a wide smile catching his attention, he saw her and laughed jogged up to her. He picked her up as she wrapped her arms around his neck before he spin them around making her laugh, he finally put her down holding her at arms length to look at her.

"May, may have you changed." His eyes roamed over her features and body taking her in she gently shook her head, the only thing that changed was her hair no longer being its wild hair was now short length dreaded like the males in her family.

"I can say the same to you, nice hair cut by the way." She touch his silk hair that was sticking out from the crown making him swat it away.

"So, what have you been up to while I was away." She asked hinting at the driftwood crown that sat upon his head, he smiled with a look of triumph he opening his arms.

"You are now standing in the present of the king of the stepstones and narrow sea." She covered her mouth her hand trying to cover her smile.

"I can't belive it."

"Believe it. Now all I need is a queen by my side to rule." He says moving hands to her waist gently squeezing them, she hummed with a small smirk as he leaned his head against hers. She could tell that something caught his eye as he looked back to her.

"Your parents are watching us, I wonder what will happen if I kiss you right now."

"My mother would probably have you killed or she do it herself." She giggled feeling his hands snake behind her to her lower back just above her backside.

"One way to found out." He moved his head to the side to capture her lips only to be meet with her soft cheek.

"Nice try." He made a noise before giving her a firm peck against her cheek before pulling away.

"Is there somewhere we can go without prying eyes." He said looking over her shoulder she turned to see her father back to them trying to talk to his wife as she stared at them with narrow eyes, the young woman turned to daemon again nodding moving to grab his arm walking them out of the courtyard.

~

"So, how was your journey." Daemon asked as they walked the shores of diftmark, the tough woman turned to him with a pleasant smile.

"It was great met a lot of people even sailed a bit. Got to travel around the free cities visited some brothels and brought some treasure back as well." Daemon chuckled looking at her as she talk.

"Sounds like you had fun." She looked over at him with a pleased smile.

"I did...pity that it's over now and I'm back here in my prison waiting my sentence to be married." She said a bit bitter as they took a seat on a large diftwood tree trunk.

"Have your father and mother already found you a suitor?" He asked a bit tense.

"They have three house they wish to marry me into the arryns, the tully, and the starks. I'm kinda hoping for house starks just because I wish to see the snowfall." She chuckled as daemon didn't found what she said amusing.

"Why waste your time with some piss poor lord of winter, when you can marry me." She rolled her eyes ignoring his words as she played with a stick.

"Firstly, the starks are one of the most respected houses in westeros and secondly, my mother isn't your biggest supporter at the moment sooo..." she shrugged with pursed lips as she used the stick to draw on the sand.

"Well, your father likes me shouldn't that be enough." She snorted.

"No, I need both of my parents to like you or a good enough reason to marry you to put to rest that I'm in safe hands for my mother's sake." He looked at her with a look.

"What does that suppose to mean?" He asked offended.

"Nothing, it's just that my mother knows about your bad habits and she worries that I may get hurt." She heard him scoff as her eyes were still trained on the sand and her drawing.

"I beat a messager to bloody pulp out of anger one time...his fine now." He under his breathe uncaring making her look at her.

"I was talking about the whores, I didn't know about that." She said looking at him a bit alarmed, she knew he had a tendency to lash out but since she been with him she only saw it at the tourney years ago, but that was before they were friends and haven't seen a outburst of violence from him since.

"It doesn't matter now it was a stressful time during the war, and you know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you." He looked at her with warmth making her turn her head back to sandy ground.

"I know." She mumbled, he looks at her.

"Why do you do that?"

"What?" She asked not looking at him.

"Look away. When I show any sign of affection you turn away, why." She stop for a moment before going back to drawing.

"I don't know, I guess I'm not use to your affectionate looks." She heard him sigh.

"That's a lie."

"How so?" She said stopping what she was doing and looking at him.

"Because I been looking at you like that since dorne." She gave him eyeroll not believing his words.

"You call eye fucking me affectionate." He nodded.

"In my head, yes." She hummed shaking her head slightly, they sat there for a minute in silence when daemon moved closer to her before grabbing her hand and holding them in his lap.

"I love you." He said looking down at her hands.

"I love you, too."

"Enough to marry me." She sigh tilting her head to the side.

"Maybe. I don't know I just don't want you to hurt me" She said gently, daemon looked hurt at her response.

"You know I would never–"

"I mean emotionally, daemon. I do not wish to hear rumors of you in brothels well I'm stuck in some castle waiting for you or worst...pregnant and all alone." He looked at her before letting go of her hand and standing in front of her, she watched as he took off his crown and placed it on her head.

"I, daemon targaryen, stand here in front of the beautiful sea dragon asking her to be my wife...my queen." He gets down on one knee making her look at him, "I have felt nothing but emptiness since you been gone, my love. All I wish was for you to come back to me. All I ever dreamed about was you."

"I will give up everything for you the crown, the whores, I would even throw the iron throne into the narrow sea if you ask me too." the woman kept her eyes on daemon as he speak feeling tears well up, " ...because when I'm with you I don't feel like the rogue prince...I don't feel bored or angry all the time, you make me feel like daemon...just daemon...your friend and my soul mate." As he grabbed her hand she closed her eyes trying to stop the tears from falling.

"Will you marry me?" She opened her eyes looking down at the cold metal around her finger, she gasped slightly at the silver moonstone ring on her hand.

"Do you like it?" He asked watching her closely.

" I fucking love it..." she glanced at me him as he smiled, "...and I love you, issa jorrāelagon." She grabbed his cheeks pulling him into a kiss, he put his hands over hers deepen the kiss.

"You still didn't answer my proposal." He said against her lips, he didn't want to pull apart yet been waiting a year and half to do this.

"The answer is yes, dummy." She said back, he pulled her up to her feet holding on to her waist still kissing her.

Daemon couldn't resist as he put her over his shoulder making her laugh, she held on to the crown on her head as he look around for a spot for them to lay down. He walked up the sand dune before putting her down, she grabbed him by the collar of his leather black vest armor pulling in for another kiss before pushing down on the beachgrass and straddling him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders making him do the same to her waist, they kiss each other roughly passionate as they bite and suck on each other lips causing the other to moan. Her hand snaked into his hand pulling it slighly causing him to moan lowly she did it again but this time she pulled it roughly tilting his head up causing him to grunt in pleasure and pain, unknowingly to him the sea serpent he love so much had started to unbuttoning his pants as her lips brushed against his cheek towards his ear.

"...break my heart, targaryen. I'll carve out your own." She whispered before her lips attach to his neck causing to him to grow hard.

"No better way to die but by the hand of the woman I love." He finally said back making her hummed in respose, daemon's hand went up her gown his thumb brushing over her sweet spot repeatedly making her loosen her on his hair. He flipped them so she was on her back and he was hovering over her, she groan and laugh at the same time from the special and impact.

"I let you do that..." he chuckled bending pecking her lips.

"Sure you did, my princess."

~

Daemon was on his side thrust slowly inside his lover from behind, the woman whimper pushing her hips back against him as he fucks her gently. It was mid morning when daemon woke up to found his lover in the mood for a quick fuck, before he had to get ready for the tourney.

"Ah, daemon..." she moaned grabbing his hand as it rest on her waist as he fucks her through her orgasm, daemon panted coming soon after making him lay slump next to her.

He pulled out making her whine from the lost before he rolled out of bed naked, the woman turned her head watching her lover walk over to the table to pour him some mead. She smiled observing him like this she founds him very sexy when his all covered in sweat it makes him look mystical in the sunlight, she shifted onto her back sitting up against the headboard as she continued to admire his beauty.

She linked her hands togther as her thumb rub over her ring that he gave her nearly a year ago, it amazed her how long its been since their wedding. All she could remember is being nervous thoughtout the whole ceremony even though it wasn't a big wedding more small with only house velaryon to witness it, daemon didn't wish to go back to king's landing so soon and see his brother making her question his reasoning on the quick proposal. He was very quick to dismiss it saying he wasn't ready to go back to king's landing just yet as the man they once knew, but as a husband and king with her by his side to show them how much he changed. After reassuring her about his commitment towards her made the wedding less scary then, and not soon enough was time for their consummation which they didn't waste time in undressing and dropping into bed. She and daemon soon left Diftmark traveling to Dragonstone to reside until he further notice, but after weeks of staying their daemon and her found out some interesting things.

~

Daemon was walking back to his chambers to fetch his wife when he saw walking down the opposite hall with a vacant look, "My love, are you okay?" He asked, she looked over at him in surpised before giving him a questionable look.

"What?"

"I said are you okay." She made 'oh' look before nodding.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just deep in my thoughts." She said dismissively daemon squinted at her but let it go for now before telling her he had something to show her, and grabbed her hand pulling her all the way to the hatchery. When they finally got there he left her to look for the maester about the surpised, as she waited and looked around she felt a sudden pull making her turn around in a circle before seeing a dragon egg nesting. She tilted her head to the side as she walked up it, she couldn't help but place her hands on upon it feeling it's warmth she notice egg was seaweed green with currant red fleckers.

"It looks like you found Elixia and Caraxes's hatchling, m'lady." The maester says from behind her she turned to see daemon with grin on his face as walk to your side, she looked back at the egg in astonishment before turning your gaze to daemon who picked up the egg and held it close to his chest like a baby.

"Do you know what this mean,issa jorrāelagon." He asked looking at her taking a step closer. (my love)

"What does it mean, my dear." She asked already knowing what he was about to say because was saying it herself.

"We may be getting a child...a heir...our son." He whispered the last words with a pleased look, the sea dragon had a watery smile as she held out her hand making smile and grab it before place it against her stomach.

"It looks like we don't have to wait too long for him, my love." Daemon didn't move his hand from her stomach as he try to register what she said, he finally looked at her before pulling her in for a kiss pecking her with all over the face he let out a victorious laugh as he looked down at her belly and rubbed it.

~

She smiles at the memory as her hand was on her swollen belly, she huffed feeling a kick. She called daemon making him pull his shirt over his head quickly before over to you, she grabbed his hand quickly as the baby kicked again they waited a moment before she felt another kicked. Daemon let out a chuckled moving his hand around her belly before kissing it, and got up to stand to kiss her on the lips.

"You look very handsome, husband." He looked over his shoulder smiling at her, he was getting his shoes on before pulling his vest over his shirt.

"Thank you, wife."

"You coming back right when i go into labor?" She asked as she tapped her fingers against her swollen stomach, he had a unsure look but it disappeared when turn to his wife.

"Of course, my love." He came over to her placing a satisfied kiss against her lips.

"One more favor before you leave, my darling." Daemon stood by your bedside with his hand in yours hands, "Please don't try to kill anybody out of respect for our soon to be son." Daemon hmmed.

"I try my best even through that is the best part of the tourney." She rolled his eyes at his bloodlust.

"Just don't kill too many of them." He nodding kissing her knuckles and then capturing her lips for a moment before pulling away.

"I love you, my princess." She smiled against his lips.

"I love you too, my prince." He leaned his head against hers and pulled back, he went over to the door to found septas and female servants behind the door I guess they were waiting for them. He opened the door wider as he stepped inside piling into the room, he eyes roamed over to his wife who looked at them worrisome before looking at daemon, he gave her a couraging smile making her give one back.

"Have fun, my love." She said as the servants started to shift around the pillows on the bed to make her comfy as possible, he gave her a quick and firm nod before walking out he hoped that she forget asking him to come back. He doesn't know if he could take the sounds of her screams as she delivers their child, he never told her this but he had a dream a very nightmarish dream that made him afraid to stand by his wife's side. He knew what happened to his brother's wife after praising the son from his dream he lost both of them a day, but at the time he understood he always thought he could do the same if it meant getting an heir. But, those feelings has changed he fears that the gods will punish him from his past behavior by taking away the only light in his life and so he promised himself he die before putting his wife through that whole ordeal, he even said if he had to choose he would choose her over their unborn child he don't think he can live with the reminder of his choice.

So, when he it was announced that wife went into labour not too long his heart beat inside his chest like a hammer to a stone wall, when the time comes he told his brother if word send for him to return to the castle for the deliverance was to tell them excuses and so viserys did when the first messgaer came to ask for the return of the prince to the castle. At that moment daemon was jousting with a unnamed knight that he didn't give a damn what his name was and won, and eventually had to beat to a bloody pulp after he tried to attack him from behind. As daemon bask in the glory again after another win he smiled as they cheered for him his eyes moved over to viserys, who was talking to the maester he notice something was wrong as they talk with timid before looking over at him with a grim and worried look he glance over at his wife's family to see her mother look upset and her father to look worried as they listen to the conversation. He soon walked out off to get his armour remove he threw his helmet on the ground before hissing at the squire to hurry up before stalking away, he soon runs into his brother and other two members of the council.

"What happened? How is she?" He said in a haste looking at the maester for answers.

"Everything will be explain soon when we get back to your chambers."

"No, I want to know now. Is my wife okay, my child? What? What! I need to know." He said growing agitated making him step towards who stepped back and viserys grabbed his shoulder only for to shove it away.

"Daemon. You need to stay calm and listen to maester mello he knows what he is doing–" Daemon cut off his brother with humorless laugh.

"I doubt that profoundly," he looked over at corlys as he descended walking up over to the group of men.

"My wife and I wish to know how is are our daughter and our grandchild." He said asked firmly looking at the maester with a stern look.

"Like I told the prince–"

"Good thing. I'm not the prince I am her father and demand to know what is happening." He said each word leaving no room for argument, maester sighed exasperating before explaining.

"It seems that the baby been breech, and we're trying to get it turn around." Daemon clenched his fist before walking around them hurrying to the castle, as he tries to get to her his wife's back was against the headboard as she panted as she clenched the bed in pain.

"Where is my husband, is daemon here yet." The servant at the door looked back at the princess.

"I'm sorry, m'lady. But, he is not." She grunted in pain as the septa's hand press down on her belly trying to get the baby to turn, she closed her eyes as she tried not twist and turn in discomfort as she silently pray to The Mother for her child safe passage out of her. She couldn't finish the prayer as the sharpe discomfort that came making her as she clenched the pillow by her side, daemon ran all the way to his chambers before peaking inside the room to see his wife in a puddle of her own blood and sweat making him step back and close his eyes.

He thought he could deal with the scene in front of him since been around a lot bloody body, but when it's the woman you love is hard to watch as she groan in pain. Daemon turned his head hearing footsteps come his way he saw the group of men walking towards him, the maester walked past him inside to check on the his patient.

"I wish someone told me that hardest part of this is seeing the woman you love in pain." Corlys hummed in thought as he stood next to him.

"I remember the day that rhaenys was in labor, no matter where I went I all I could hear is her scream echoing throughout the castle." Daemon looked at him with a reluctant look.

"Ho‐How did you deal with it." He saw a small smile spread across his father-in-law face.

"Against my maester and advisers better judgment, I walked in my chambers even rhaenys thought it wasn't "proper" for me to be there..." Daemon listen to corlys wordd it distracted him from his wife's torturing pain.

"But?"

"...but she changed her mind fairly quickly when it was time for her to push, I sat by her said the whole night and early morning holding her hand and whispering couraging words as she scream and squeeze the life out of my hand." He chuckled making daemon smile a bit.

"And in the end it was all worth it to see my babe born, our sea dragon and my eldest daughter." Corlys says fondly at the memory, maester mello came out of the room making corlys and daemon look his way.

"Good news, prince daemon. The child is no longer breeching and your wife can continue to push." Daemon let out a sigh of relief as corly patted him on the back.

"That's good..." he said about to walk in there when the maester stopped.

"My prince you can't go in there." Daemon looked at mallo with a vacant look.

"Who's going to stop me?" He asked before walking around only the maester following behind him.

"My prince, it's improper for you to be–"

"Fuck improper." He said walking inside seeing his wife covered in sweat, she turned her head to see her husband and smile weakly.

"My beloved you made it." He hurried over to her taking her hand in his own before kissing it.

"I'm sorry I'm late, my queen." He leaned his head against hers making her kiss her eyes in gratitude, but the sweet moment was over when she moaned in pain.

"It's time to push, my m'lady." She started shaking her head afraid she been waiting for this the moment she started her contraction.

"No, no, no, no, no. I'm not ready, daemon-ahhhh." She grabbed daemon's hand as the pain was overwhelming.

"It's alright, my love. I'm right here you can do this..." she shook her head as tears welled up and fell.

"No, I can't... hurt so much...I can't-ahhh..i can't." She whimper as daemon watched her helplessly as he couldn't do anything to stop the pain, he turned towards the door to hiss corly who motion with his head to the bed making daemon catch on. He got up from his knees taking his boots off with one hand before removing his vest and getting behind his wife, she scooted up a bit still in pain before falling back against his chest.

"Hold my hands and you got this if you can take a hit and get back up, you can easily push out this child." He whispered in her ear making her nod as she held both his hands.

"Okay, m'lady. Push!" The septa says, daemon cringe a the loud piercing scream that came from his wife as she pushed, it felt like a eternity when they heard the sounds of the baby wails. The tired mother falled back against her husband chest as her heart hammered in her chest, they took the baby away to get clean not a second later announced the gender.

"It's a girl." Daemon made a hummed noise a bit taken back wasn't expecting that targaryen dreams are usually right, he was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard his laugh.

"A girl...its a girl...how lovely." Daemon could help let a chuckle as he was giggling from the pain being over, but her that changed when she gripped his hands again as pain shot through her body again.

"My love, what's wrong? What is it. " She didn't say anything as she sat forward groaning, the septa passed the baby over to the servant girl and walked over to the bed and lifted up his wife's gown.

"There's a another." She said surpised getting back in position as lady velaryon started pushing without thought.

"By the gods, we're having twins." Daemon whispered starstruck, she shouted as she pushed before taking a breather and continuing. Finally, the pain was hopefully over she laid back limp exhausted from all the pushing but she was still alert and heart didn't stop hammering in her chest.

"...daemon...why don't I hear crying." She asked weakly, she try to lift her head to look at him but couldn't found the energy move her head from his chest.

"I-I don't know," he was about moved when she grabbed his forearm causing him to stop, she finally got to move her head to look up at him as he stared at the group of women.

"...don't leave me, please." Daemkn looked down at her pleading eyes as nodded settling down against headboard, he wrapped his arms around her front as he closed his eyes. Daemon never pray in his life for nothing not even when he was in battle, he felt it was useless and that gods didn't care to listen to their devotees pathetic whines and pleads. But, it's seems that he there's a first time for everyone, and seems this was his as he prayed the seven he could hear his wife barely audible prayer to The Mother. Like a miracle, the baby cries out making the ladies surrounded it sigh in relief before announcing its gender.

"It's a boy, your highness." Daemon let out a small sob at the sound of his son, he buried his face in his wife neck trying to hide his face. His wife let out a sigh her hand going to his hair raking it, she heard him sniffled before quickly wiping his eyes and containing himself.

"My sweet prince." She said caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers, he smiled at her.

"Issa gevie ābrazȳrys nyke ȳdra daor gīmigon skorkydoso nyke glaesagon mijegon ao." He said. (I don't know how I'll ever live without you.)

"Nyke ȳdra daor gīmigon skorkydoso nyke glaesagon mijegon ao tolī." She sigh before he kissed her cheek multiple times. (I don't know how I'll live without you too)

"Your grace, do you wish hold your childern now." They looked at the septas who held the twins.

"Yes, please." She said adjusting herself before the septa laid her som into her arms before doing the same with their daughter as daemon held her, the septas and the servants left the couple alone so they can a little family time.

"What should you name them?" He asked as he look from behind to your side, she looked at him with furrowed brows.

"I'm thinking you can name him and I'll name her, I have two good names for my little princess." She smiled looking over at the baby with mop of white hair.

"I think you should name them both, and I can name the next one." He chuckled when she gave him a look.

"Bold of you to think we're having anymore of these little monsters, your not touching me for at least a month." She said jaded looking down at the baby boy who had the same mop of hair like his twin.

"You wouldn't last a week before you come begging me to fuck you."

"Hush you. No cursing in front of the babes the last thing we need is their first words being fuck." He a small smile etched kts way up on his lips.

"Wouldn't that be something, and maybe on the sixteenth name day I can take them out to fleabottom like I did you." She rolled her eyes.

"If you take my childern to that place, I'll have Elixia eat." She gently caressed her baby's head, he watched her with love before he remember.

"I wasn't gonna come back to the room." He confess out of nowhere, she raised a brow at him.

"I was going to stay at the tourney until you were finish, I couldn't handle the screaming but than I talk to corlys and–"

"He told the day i was born and how he sat by my mother the entirely time, yeah he told me that story multiple times as a kid." She said with a small smile.

"I'm sorry." He said, she shook her head.

"It's okay, you came anyway even though it was late you made in time to see the birth of your childern." He hummed smiling at down at them.

"The second best decision I ever made."

"What's the first?" She smiled.

"Fucking you on the beach." She made a urge sound as she rolled her eyes as he chuckled.

"You know what I have decided to name our little prince after my grandfather, Aemon, and name our princess after the woman who birth aegon the conqueror, Valaena."

"I thought you said I could pick." He comments.

"I changed my mind." She gave him a mock smile before glancing down.

"Well, jest on you because I liked them both very likable and brave people to live up to." She nodded turning to her husband.

"We're parents." She said as the realization yet them.

"Yeah, we are..." he smiled as they both leaned in kissing each other.

~

"Daemon get your ass over here, it's hatching." She said placing Valaena in her cradle with her brother.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming." He said walking over to her without a shirt, it been couple of months since the both of the twins and couple days ago since they return home to dragonstone when they decided to put a dragon egg in the cradle.

They were worried since they placed it just six moons ago and it haven't hatched, but now it was happening they watched as the egg shake slightly. The egg cracked revealing two dragons the lady wife gasped softly seeing the two dragon emerged, one was all green with fleckers of red on its body well they other was all red with fleckers of green on his body.

"Have you seen anything like this before." She asked her husband, he shook his head as he stared stunned at them, the green and red one moved closer to the babes making the sea dragon grab her husband hand.

The green dragon looked over at aemon moving towards him lowly with caution as aemon stared at it, the red did the same with valaena making the baby giggle in amusement. They both watched happily as the dragons took a liking to their riders as they spit small fires casuing the babies to squeal, the princess leaned her head on her husband shoulder Watchung with a smile well her laid his cheek on the top her head as they watch their childern bond.

[hllywdwhre]

Dreamer, Queen, Prince - Chapter 2

Pairing: Daemyra x fem!OC

Warnings: Please check masterlist for warnings. This work is 18+, MDNI

Notes: I promise the plot will start picking up soon with lots of angst💀I had to set things up though

Masterlist

It was nightfall before Daemon escorted Viserea back inside the walls of the Keep. He offered to escort her to the dragon pit, but she rejected his offer, saying she had not slept properly in two days and all she wished for was a decent night’s sleep.

Thankfully, she was granted exactly that. The next day was a day of mourning with no council meetings being held and the sun was shining bright through her windows when she finally awoke. The handmaidens were called to her chambers and she was dressed in dragon riding attire. She greeted Rhaenyra in her room, who after taking one glance at how Viserea was dressed, immediately got dressed in her own riding attire.

They were escorted to the dragonpit and mounted their respective dragons and began flying. Neither needed to say where they were going in order to know. Soon they were greeted with the shores of Dragonstone and Viserea felt a weight lift off her shoulders.

The two landed in the field where there was plenty for their dragons to eat and walked to the far edge of it before either spoke.

“Do you remember when we snuck off right before your tenth nameday?” Rhaenyra asked, settling down in the field and Viserea joined her a moment later, giggling at the memory.

“Yes. I have never seen so many ships showing up to Dragonstone at once.” Viserea’s smile spread across her face slowly, “Or your father’s face turn so red.”

Rhaenyra laughed loudly at the memory and Viserea felt her stomach jump multiple times at the sound.

“You took the fault, saying it was your idea to run away.” Rhaenyra added, looking over at Viserea.

“Even at ten, I knew how much power a nameday’s wish could hold. How could they be mad at the child who just wanted to celebrate her nameday with her closest friend?” Viserea nudged Rhaenyra’s shoulder with her own.

“I think that day is one of my favorite memories. It definitely started one of my favorite traditions.”

“Traditions?”

“Sneaking off to fly here any time we needed a moment away from being the two princesses of the realm.” Rhaenyra answered and Viserea laid her head on her shoulder.

“It has always felt more like home than the keep has. I may know the grounds of the keep more, but Dragonstone will always be the home of the Targaryens.”

“Do you believe home has to be a place?” Rhaenyra asked, her voice curious.

“In what way do you mean?”

“I have visited Dragonstone without you by my side before and it did not hold the same feeling. I could never place why until Alicent and I were in my chambers last night. She held me as I cried, but it brought me only a small portion of the comfort you brought me, and I realized that I was wishing you were there to hold me. You were always the place that brought me the most comfort.” Rhaenyra’s voice had turned shy at the end and Viserea could feel her heart hammering in her chest as she lifted her head from Rhaenyra’s shoulder.

The hours Viserea spent alone in her room pondering her jealousy of Rhaenyra and Alicent’s friendship and realizing why she felt that jealousy, the terror of losing Rhaenyra as a friend, and the guilt she felt at her own inability to be happy for her when a handsome lord offered her his attention played through her mind in a blur.

“You have always been mine, too.” Viserea finally said, afraid to say any more in case Rhaenyra’s words didn’t mean the same to her as they did to Viserea.

“Rea, look at me.” Rhaenyra said, turning her body to face Viserea.

Viserea sat up straight and did as she was told, looking at Rhaenyra and holding her gaze even if the action made her entire body shake slightly.

“Dragons are meant to burn together, we feel safest surrounded by fire. You are the fire that surrounds me when I feel as though I am drowning in the seas. I need to know for my own sanity’s sake if you feel the same.”

Instead of replying, Viserea leaned forward and pressed her lips against Rhaenyra’s. Her world simultaneously came crashing down around her and was rebuilt in the same moment. As she felt Rhaenyra’s lips push back against her own, she felt the new world built stronger. Her world no longer consisted of the pain of so much loss surrounded by the walls of the keep, it was now the feeling of hope surrounded by the very air they flew through while on dragonback.

She wasn’t sure how long their lips stayed connected before Rhaenyra was pulling Viserea onto her lap. Viserea’s hands went into Rhaenyra’s hair while one of Rhaenyra’s hands rested on the girl’s hip and the other on the back of her neck to keep her close. When they finally pulled away from each other, both were breathing heavily and had flushed cheeks.

“I don’t think you truly understand how long I have been wishing for that moment,” Viserea said, her forehead leaned against Rhaenyra’s.

“My apologies for keeping my princess waiting,” Rhaenyra said, smirking up at her.

“You’re forgiven as long as you promise it will not happen again.” Viserea replied, with her own cheeky grin.

“I do not believe myself to be able to go without your kiss anymore.” As if to make her point, Rhaenyra kissed Viserea again and laid back, dragging the other down with her.

The two laid in the grass for a while longer with various topics being discussed between kisses. It was only when the sun began to sink behind the clouds that they finally rose from the grass and headed back to their dragons. Halfway back to King’s Landing, they began shouting joking insults to each other which resulted in a race back to the pit. The two landed at the same time just as they had earlier that week and allowed their dragons to be brought back into the pit.

“One day you will have to show me how you get in so much trouble wandering through the streets.” Rhaenyra said in a low voice as they were escorted back to the keep.

“It will have to be after a day of celebration. I’m not exactly accompanied by a guard and there are only two people in the city I trust to keep me safe.” Viserea told her in the same volume.

“How do you know you can trust them?” Rhaenyra asked curiously.

“Apparently they know of our uncle. He has bought their loyalty to the Targaryen family and I pay my share when I need their services.” Viserea told her honestly. Rhaenyra looked as though she was considering the answer and gave a slow nod.

“I guess gold is a powerful weapon, perhaps even more than Valyrian steel.” Rhaenyra finally replied.

“I wonder if gold is powerful enough to buy the silence of our guards or if we’ll have to find more clever ways to sneak to each other’s rooms every night. I don’t think they will believe that my dreams are suddenly visiting every night.”

“I believe you forget our power as the princesses of the Realm. The only person who holds more power than us currently is Father. One command from us as their princesses and they will be silenced unless Father asks them; and Ser Harrold and Ser Ryden both adore us so I don’t think they would betray our trust unless they had to.”

Viserea locked eyes with her cousin as she thought over what she had just said and the confidence in her eyes was enough to make her believe it.

They reached the keep and were helped out of the carriage. The two made their way to the kitchens where they were greeted with surprised faces. The staff smiled as they grabbed the random foods they wanted and made their way back to the hall that held their chambers.

The two walked into Rhaenyra’s chambers and placed the food on the footrest of her bed. While Rhaenyra bathed and dressed in her nightclothes, Viserea ate, and the two switched once they were finished. With full stomachs and smelling of the rich oils that littered the bathroom, the two eventually curled under Rhaenyra’s sheets.

They continued talking through the night, somehow never running out of topics to discuss. When one topic would seem to come to an end, it would spur on another conversation about a topic related that would only be interrupted when one of them pressed their lips to the other’s. Their responses to each other became more and more labored as exhaustion won over, and in the dark of night, the two fell asleep with Viserea’s head on Rhaenyra’s chest and their arms wrapped around each other.

When the morning sun began creeping through the windows of Rhaenyra’s room, two knocks awoke them from their slumber. Rhaenyra answered the door while Viserea stayed standing out of sight, and when they realized it was just the handmaidens coming to gather Rhaenyra for the first council meeting of the day, they both relaxed. Rhaenyra allowed the two women inside,

“Princess Viserea is also here, she stayed with me last night as I did not wish to be alone.” Rhaenyra informed them, though neither of the women were surprised to see her.

“It is no bother, princesses. I am happy to see that you two have each other as you both go through a difficult time.” Viserea believed the woman that said it was named Laera, though she couldn’t remember the name of the younger maiden that had joined her.

“I will go and retrieve Princess Viserea’s handmaidens as they are looking for you, also. The King Viserys said you both are to attend today’s council meetings to avoid any confusion of who’s duty today’s would be since none were held yesterday.” The younger girl left the room before anyone could respond, though she returned moments later with both of Viserea’s handmaidens in tow.

After the two were both dressed and their hair had been styled, they made their way to the council room. For once, neither were late and both arrived at the same time as the rest of the council.

Seeing the king made Viserea’s blood run cold, though she made sure not to show it. Aemma’s death flashed through her mind and she forced the images back. She couldn’t let her own feelings of the matter get in the way of her duties. Getting under Otto Hightower’s skin was one thing, but outwardly showing her new distaste for the king could very well end her life.

Two jugs of wine were on a table off to the side instead of one so that neither princess would be empty handed as they sat in on the council meeting. They placed the cups and filled each of them before the king sat down, signaling the start of the meeting.

“Before we begin, Your Grace, I have a report I feel compelled to share.” Otto says, causing Rhaenyra and Viserea to look at each other from where they stood on opposite sides of the table. “You know, Your Grace, how I cannot abide by gossip-“

“Please, Otto, gossip on.” The dread in Viserys’ voice was not lost on Viserea or Corlys as they both looked at each other with smiles that they were forcing back.

“Last night, Prince Daemon bought out one of the pleasure houses on the Street of Silk.” Otto said. This caused Viserea’s smile to drop quickly and she looked to Rhaenyra.

Anytime Otto mentioned Daemon’s name, it was sure to be an insult of some sort. The two had spoken before of how they viewed their uncle with a similar respect and, sometimes, envy. They were both protective over him and both of the dragons being prodded in the same room was not a smart idea for anyone who did not wish to be bathed in dragon fire.

“For what purpose?” Viserys asked Otto. Rhaenyra and Viserea looked between each other and the two men, having no more wine glasses to fill.

“To entertain officers of the City Watch and other friends of his.” After a brief pause, Otto continued on, “He toasted the passed Prince Baelon, styling him, ‘The Heir for a Day.’”

Viserea felt her heart hammer in her chest, not believing it until Otto went on to further say he had multiple witnesses who viewed the evening as a celebration. She locked eyes with Rhaenyra again and was met with a pained look equal to what she felt.

Both of the girls jump as Viserys sends his wine glass to shatter on the floor of the council room. Viserea and Rhaenyra move at the same time, both in sync with each other and not needing to verbally communicate to work in tandem. As Viserea carefully cleans the wine glass off the floor and reassures Viserys that she is okay to do so, Rhaenyra fills another glass for him and sets it a couple inches farther away from him than the previous.

The council meeting continues as normal after the outburst was made, though both girls stay suspiciously quiet. Viserea can feel Corlys eyeing her more than once in suspicion. Where one of the two would usually voice their opinion, they are quiet. They give each other brief glances as they move to keep wine glasses filled, but neither speaks a word.

The council meeting runs longer than usual, having two days worth of issues to handle instead of one. When they are finally dismissed, the Princesses only have enough time to speak to each other in the halls on the way to their lessons.

“Do you believe he said it?” Rhaenyra asked. She did not need any more clarification to understand what she was asking.

“I wish it was a lie, but the Hand is not a stupid man. An accusation that could cost the Rogue his tongue or even his life is not one to be made without solid proof.” Viserea is careful as she speaks. Names are easier for those to translate from Valyrian, so she makes sure to only use the nicknames the two had given the various members of the council to maintain secrecy.

“I hate that I feel more anger for my father than I do for Rogue. He has not spoken to me since mother’s funeral and now Rogue gives my brother that died in the cradle such a treacherous name and it is my father that I hold more anger for.” The Valyrian sounded enchanting falling from Rhaenyra’s lips, especially when spoken in anger. If it wasn’t for the topic, Viserea knew she could listen to her speak in it for hours uninterrupted.

“I agree with your anger, though it is for different reasons. I spoke to Rogue of the dream, among other things, once Rhaenys’ Hill had cleared and it feels as though he has used the contents of the dream to further mock him.”

“Did you tell him of the entire dream?” Rhaenyra asked, “I know you’re withholding part of it to prevent me some pain and I am not asking you to tell me of it…”

“You just wish to know how deep the betrayal I feel is?” Viserea questioned and Rhaenyra nodded, “He knows of the whole dream. I also told him how I view our family and he still made the remarks.”

“Yet you still hold more anger towards Father than him?” Rhaenyra questioned.

“Issa. (Yes.)”

“Is it because Father did something I do not know of?”

“Issa.”

“Do I need to know of it, or would it only bring me more pain over something I cannot change?”

“He regrets what he did, you do not need to hold the anger or pain that his actions would bring you.” Viserea looked to Rhaenyra who was already looking at her. Rhaenyra looked at her a moment longer then nodded.

“I trust your judgment.” Rhaenyra replied as they approached their meeting place with the Septa.

Their afternoon lessons went by quickly and Viserea welcomed the distraction from the betrayal she felt due to Daemon’s actions. Learning about the Old Gods of Valyria was more comforting than pondering over the current valyrian descendants' familial issues.

When the girls were informed of Viserys’ absence from dinner for the third night in a row, Viserea could not help the anger she felt. She had grown used to the feelings of grief, but she did not understand how a father could abandon his daughter to deal with those feelings on her own. Viserea thought Rhaenyra herself might breathe dragonfire when it was a member of the Kingsguard that came to collect them instead of Viserys himself.

“Father.” Rhaenyra greeted once they enter the altar room.

“Your Grace.” Viserea greets, changing her usual greeting to one of formality.

Rhaenyra notices the change in greeting and briefly looks at Viserea, but turns her attention back to Viserys instead.

“You haven’t spoken a word to us since Mother’s funeral, and then you send your Kingsguard to collect us?” There is no mistaking the anger in Rhaenyra’s voice. It mimics that in which Viserea feels.

“Balerion was the last living creature to have seen Old Valyria before the Doom… Its greatness and its flaws…When you look at the dragons, what do you see?” The King’s question is directed towards Rhaenyra, but both of the ladies are clearly taken aback by it.

“What?” Rhaenyra asked him.

“Answer me. It’s important. What do you see?”

“I suppose… I see us.”

“Tell me.”

“Everyone says Targaryens are closer to gods than to men. But they say that because of our dragons; without them, we’re just like everyone else.”

Whatever answer Viserys was looking for, Rhaenyra seems to have given him. He looks pleased as he turns to Viserea next,

“And what do you make of your dreams?” He asked.

Viserea took a step closer to where he and Rhaenyra stood, taking a moment of her own to gather her thoughts.

“Many Valyrians, Targaryens and Velarions alike, have prayed to Tessarion to give them the gift of dreams. It adds to our illusion of being closer to gods than to men, as do the dragons, but my dreams could stop tomorrow the same way dragons could stop choosing to obey our commands. Then we are the same as everyone else with only lilac eyes to say we were different at one time.”

Viserys nods at Viserea’s answer, being just as pleased in her answer as he was in Rhaenyra’s.

“The idea that we control the dragons is an illusion. They are a power that man should have never trifled with - one that brought Valyria its doom. And, if we don’t mind our own history, it will do the same to us.” Viserys looks back and forth between both girls before settling his attention on Rhaenyra. “A Targaryen must understand this to be King… or Queen.”

Viserea feels her breath hitch for a moment at what Viserys is implying, but does not interrupt or reach for Rhaenyra’s hand as she so desperately wants.

“I’m sorry, Rhaenyra. I’ve wasted the years since you were born wanting for a son. But, you are the very best of your mother. I believe, as I know she did, that you could be a great ruling queen.”

“Daemon is your heir.” Rhaenyra argued.

“Daemon was not made to wear the crown, but I believe that you were.”

“You summoned Viserea here with me.” Rhaenyra pointed out, bringing Viserea slightly out of her state of shock and causing Viserys to look at the other princess.

“You two have not been separated since birth. I cannot make you both Queens of the Realm, but I know that you two will have great influence over each other.” Viserys said, his eyes flickering between the two.

“She will be my Hand of the Queen.” Rhaenyra said quickly, causing Viserea’s head to snap towards her.

“Rhaenyra-“ Viserea started, but she was interrupted by her.

“No.” Rhaenyra looked to her father and held eye contact with him, a look of determination on her face, “Viserea is to be named my Hand when I am named your Heir. You brought her here because you knew I would value her opinion over everyone else’s. You know what naming a woman your Heir will cause. I will not risk Viserea becoming an object of the background.”

Viserys looks to Viserea, silently asking her if she wants what Rhaenyra has offered to her. When Viserea nods, Viserys speaks again,

“This is no trivial gesture, my Princesses. A dragon’s saddle is one thing, but the Iron Throne is the most dangerous seat in the realm.”

Viserea subconsciously stepped closer to Rhaenyra, now directly behind her right side, as if already prepared to protect Rhaenyra from whatever may come to harm her. Visery let a small smile cross his face at the sight though it quickly fades.

“I’m going to tell you both something now. It won’t be easy for you to understand, but you must hear it.” Viserys said, drawing both of their attention, “The histories tell us that Aegon looked across the Blackwater from Dragonstone and saw a rich land ripe for the capture. But ambition alone is not what drove him to conquest. It was a dream.”

Viserys allows both of them a moment to grasp what he has said and Viserea’s heart jumped in her chest. She doesn’t stop herself this time from gripping Rhaenyra’s hand.

“Viserea is not the first Dreamer since Daenys, who saw the end of Valyria. She is the first since Aegon, who foresaw the end of the world of men. It is to begin with a terrible winter dusting out of the distant north. Aegon saw absolute darkness riding on those winds, and whatever is within, will destroy the world of the living.”

“What is it? What’s in the darkness?” Rhaenyra voiced Viserea’s thoughts.

“If Aegon knew, he never said. But he saw that there would be a light brilliant enough to stand against it: the fire of dragons. Whenever the Great Winter comes, all of Westeros will have to stand against it. And if the world of men is to survive, a Targaryen must be seated on the Iron Throne. A king, or queen, strong enough to unite the realm against the cold and dark.” Viserys pulled his dagger from its hilt and held it in the light of the fire, allowing the flames to dance across the surface bring light to the engravings, “Aegon called his Dream ‘The Song of Ice and Fire.’”

Viserea feels Rhaenyra start to return the grip on her hand as if the two were drawing strength from each other in that moment.

“This secret has passed from king to heir since Aegon’s time. Jaehaerys was able to unite the realm as one again, but if any war is to happen again before the Song… I believe it is time that the king or queen has a trusted ally to help carry the secret. You two must both promise to carry this secret. Carry it and protect it. Promise me this, Rhaenyra. Promise me this, Viserea.”

Both of the Princesses respond as one,

“I promise.”

“Tomorrow the lords of the realm will gather in the throne room and pledge their loyalty to you as my named heir,” Viserys looks from Rhaenyra to Viserea, “and to you as the future Hand of the Queen. When Jaehaerys told me of the Song, I did not sleep that night. I ask that you two do not escape on dragonback or run through the city streets tonight. Find comfort within the walls of the keep, however you may need to.”

When both of them agree, Viserys dismisses himself, leaving the two standing alone and speechless for a long while. They both silently leave the alter room, their hands still intertwined, and it isn’t until they reach the privacy of Viserea’s chambers that Rhaenyra speaks.

“I apologize if I have spoken for you tonight. If you do not wish to be my hand, I understand.” She said, causing Viserea to turn to look at her.

“You have offered me the highest honor in the realm besides the throne itself. There is nothing to apologize for.” Viserea told her, sitting next to her and leaning her head on her shoulder.

“I assumed since I would value your opinion over anyone else’s, it seemed only right that you sit beside me and actually get to wield that power.”

“Better me than another cunt like Otto.” Viserea doesn’t realize what she has said until the words leave her mouth, but by then she and Rhaenyra have both turned to a fit of giggles.

Once they finally calm themselves, Rhaenyra sighs.

“I suppose tonight we will have to sleep in our own beds. I feel that tomorrow we will be awoken with a sense of urgency that would not be aided if we are having to be tracked down.” Rhaenyra’s words sadden Viserea, but she knows they are true.

“At least that’s one thing that can be changed once you are Queen. It will be much easier to see each other when I am moved to my own room within the Queen’s apartments.” Viserea pointing out this fact brought a smile to Rhaenyra’s face.

“I suppose you’re right.” Rhaenyra gently placed her lips on Viserea’s and stood.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Nyra.” Viserea said, kissing Rhaenyra’s hand before letting it fall.

Rhaenyra stood at the front of the throne room while Viserea stood at the front of the line of lords gathered to pledge an oath of fealty to Viserys and Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra was dressed in an intricate gown of red with golden embroidery and jewels dancing across the chest and arms. A golden cloak embroidered with dragon heads rested on her shoulders. Viserea wore a red gown of her own, though she wore no cloak and her embroidery was silver and danced across the torso and chest of her dress. Both wore the headpieces that Daemon had gifted them for Viserys’ coronation as children. While Rhaenyra could not wear the necklace he had gifted her, Viserea wore the earrings and had allowed Rhaenyra to borrow her ring for the ceremony.

“Viserea, the Winter Dragon, of House Targaryen, Princess of the Realm.” Grand Maester Mellos’ voice boomed over the crowd and shocked Viserea back to the present.

With each step closer to Rhaenyra, Viserea felt her anxiety and nerves melt away and allowed herself to look like every inch of the power she held, standing tall and keeping her face impassive. She would be the first to swear loyalty to Rhaenyra, and then the rest of the lords would swear their loyalty to both of the Princesses. Viserea did not need a dream to know that this was what was right. She was meant to be by Rhaenyra’s side, as both her wife and as her hand. While she may only be able to be by her side as one in the present, Viserea was willing to wait a hundred lifetimes to stand beside her as her wife. The day would come, and she knew it.

Kneeling, Viserea spoke the modified set of words that only she would speak that day,

“I, Viserea Targaryen, the Winter Dragon, swear my loyalty to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. As Hand of the Queen, I will give my life to aiding her rule and helping to protect and better the Realm. I swear this by the old gods and the new. If I fail, may Tessarion take away the gift of Dreams.” Viserea had argued for her modified versions of the usual oath of fealty and promises of the Hand, and after an argument that the Grand Maester said would take five years off of his life, her version had been allowed.

Viserea stood and, as she walked to stand next to Rhaenyra, saw Viserys give a small nod to her. Turning to face the gathered lords, Viserea kept a face of confidence and power.

“Corlys of House Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark.” The maester said next.

Corlys walked up to the two and kneeled before them,

“I, Corlys Velaryon, Lord of Driftmark, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra, and her named Hand, the Princess Viserea. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. I swear this by the old gods and the new.”

Viserea offers Corlys a nod of respect as he stands, having always admired the man.

“Lord Hobert Hightower, Beacon of the South, Defender of the Citadel, and Voice of Oldtown.”

Viserea had met Hobert only once and was utterly unimpressed. Perhaps it was Viserea’s unwillingness to say her faith was in the Seven and hers instead lied with the Gods and Goddesses of Old Valyria, but she knew the feeling was mutual.

“I, Lord Hobert Hightower, Beacon of the South, Defender of the Citadel, and Voice of the Oldtown, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra, and her named Hand, the Princess Viserea. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. I swear this by the old gods and the new.”

Viserea offers no nod to the Hightower Lord or the next lords that pledge their loyalty, but she pays attention to which lords show their obvious distaste of the oath.

When she could, she would look around the throne room, hoping to see the familiar long, blonde hair that usually gave her comfort. Viserea was unsure if she was relieved to not see it, or if it only added to the sense of betrayal she felt.

“Boremund Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End.” The statement snapped Viserea back to the present and she locked eyes with the man.

He is one of the ones Viserea takes mental note of. His eyes flicker back and forth between Rhaenyra and Viserea and Viserea squints her eyes into a glare. The look on both hers and Rhaenyra’s face makes the lord kneel and recite the oath.

“Benjen Stark, Lord of Winterfell.” Grand Maester Mellos calls forward Viserea’s cousin and she wipes the angry look from her face, instead offering one of warmth and respect.

When Benjen approaches, he gives both of the princesses a small, but genuine, smile as he kneels.

“I, Benjen Stark, Lord of Winterfell, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra, and her named Hand, the Princess Viserea. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies in good faith and without deceit. I swear this by the old gods and the new.”

When he stands, both Rhaenyra and Viserea give him the same small nods of respect Viserea had offered Corlys which the Lord returns.

“The Winter Dragon” was a name given to her by the Starks when she was still a babe in the womb. She had grown up hearing herself referred to as such, and it was when she was ten and three that she asked for the name to be used when she was announced. It was a way for Viserea to ensure that the memory of her mother or Winterfell’s loyalty to her was not erased.

When the last of the oaths were sworn, Viserys rose from behind the two and they turned towards him. He held eye contact with both of them as Rhaenyra nodded and then Viserea, promising again that they would carry and protect the secret. Both turned back to the room of lords and Viserea went to stand next to Benjen and his son Rickon as the Maester placed the golden collar around Rhaenyra’s shoulders.

Viserys voice carries over the room this time,

“I, Viserys Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm do hereby name Rhaenyra Targaryen the Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne.”

Viserea held eye contact with Rhaenyra for a moment before following the lead of the rest of the nobles in the room and kneeling in front of her.