#daemon targaryen x chubby reader

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

Not wanted (part 1)

Pairing : Daemon Targaryen x Chubby fem reader

Summer : "The silver hair of the prince was blown by the slight breeze, his purplish gaze burned with an anger worthy of his dragon. Y/n although set back could observe the scene unfolding in front of her eyes. Daemon was in front of her father, Dark sister in hand."

Author’s note: hello, I post the first part of "Not wanted" now, so you don’t wait as much. Part two will probably be published during the week or else it will be two publications on Sunday. I hope you enjoy this first part. Enjoy your reading.

Trigger warning: mistakes have undoubtedly had to pass my vigilance, English not being my mother tongue they will be corrected.

Ao3 profile : Earenwen_Leafwhisper

---

There is a feeling, or will it be instinct, which tells you quietly that you are not wanted in a place, it can happen everywhere, whether in school, in the street, at work, but also in the family.

This feeling grows over time and it is not pleasant, the worst being the evening when the truth comes out. When your father is drunk with all the alcohol he has drunk since the beginning of the afternoon explains to you that you will never be born, that your life you owe to your mother who wanted more than anything in the world a child. That explains, a lot of things, like never having a "congratulations" when you achieve something, or a "I’m proud of you, I love you my daughter". No. Never, just "Did you see how fat you are?" "Stop reading", "Why don’t you read?" , being cut off at every moment, "Shut up!" followed by "Why don’t you answer me?". Little by little, all your self-esteem eventually crumbles, by a member of your closest family. There is also this question, "What would I do alone?" The moments when you imagine running away.

Being born on Westeros is not a dream life, whether we are peasants or nobles, we have our own personal hell. Yours is your father. Although not wanted, your father decided to do something with you, and marrying a second-rate lord was a good solution. His son, born of a first union, was already married to a lady from your region, strengthening the ties of the two families.

His son, he saw it differently, for him he had nothing to reproach himself. But to all the others, he was a frightful asshole, who amused himself by threatening servants and lords of smaller house than yours. Manipulating everyone around you, going so far as to threaten you, morally and physically, explaining clearly, that the day your father died, he would put you at the door of your castle. But you were just a ball and chain. Your father did not want to marry you, at the very beginning, prefer that no one speaks of you or shows interest, waiting for the coming years, he ends up wanting to see you leave with a lord, he could not see you when he was drunk, insulting you with various sentences, more or less painful, explaining that nobody would want you, the least that nothing. Deep down, he was bubbling, refusing to accept that someone was interested in you.

During the various tournaments in which he participated as spectator, he tried to find you a husband in vain, he reproached you, while it was his fault, because no lords had seen you in the flesh. The lords are trying hard to convince him to get you out of the castle, wanting to see who this misterieuse young woman was.

A date was chosen, those of the games organized by Lord Baratheon, for the adoubement of his eldest son.

---

To say that you were surprised would have been an understatement, your father, one morning sober, warned you or rather ordered you to be present at the games organize for the son Baratheon. Your mind worked very quickly, you felt fear mounted within you, your whole body became warm, your heart throbbing, you felt your blood flowing at the level of your temples, your hands became sweatly. With time you had learned not to believe the good news coming from your father because to each of them, hid a dark face, turning against you.

You instinctively understood that something was wrong. He had never wanted you to accompany the "family", you learned to appreciate the fact of not participating in banquets, the only semblance of banquets in which you had participated was in your very young childhood, during which only the houses vassal to yours participated and at the same time make your acquaintance, having seen you as a child at your mother’s side. Whether it was a courtesy visit or in the most difficult moments, you, the child who tried to do well to please his parents, but ended up seeing his father drunk, yelling at the guests who contradicted him on anything, (whether on the land or on the alcohol he ate) and who fell asleep on one of the benches aligned against a wall of the room, a knight winning up to your nurse in order to sleep safely.

As you grew up, you would stay back, observing in the dark the rare events taking place in your castle, seeing from your apartments, your brother’s wedding, do not participate in the festivities. In a sense you were grateful, you did not want to play this open-air play, where false pretenses were common, you could only wish good luck to the servants, knowing more than very well, that their work and reprimands would be much more severe than usual

Now you had to participate, was it a new way to humiliate yourself? To have you away from the castle so that your brother could make it his stronghold and abandon you in a place that you were unknown?

All possible reasons paraded in your mind, not even trying to find optimism in them.

---

The area of your family was quite far from the stromlands, the journey was long and winding, the summer was coming to an end, the roads formed of a mixture of earth and large stones, you avoided the forests anticipate the slightest attack of bandits who could have hidden in the trees and depths of the forest. You were traveling for the first time outside your castle and your father did not want to worry about looting in addition to having you nearby.

There were two carriages, in the first was your father, a mestre and his advisor. You were present in the second, more modest, made only of wood, without ornaments, made of the rest of the wood of an old carriage, a servant was at your side, helping you to sew a new dress, for the dinner in which you and your father would participate, dinner to help you find a husband. «New», was not the right word, you used fabric of old dresses that belonged to you to make your work. The jerky movements of the carriage made it difficult to sew, more than once you had pricked your fingers, fortunately there was no taste of blood spilled.

Your journey was calm, you stayed in the carriage most of the time, leaving only when you had no choice, escorted by your servant and a knight, you avoid your father, who over the days used up the small reserve of wine he took with him when you left. The less alcohol there was and the faster he started to be irritable. The slightest thing that was contrary to his desires was directly criticized, whether it was the singing of birds early in the morning, the wind blowing a little too loudly, or a knight of one’s armor needed to be oiled. Everything was a pretext for his moods, the rare moments when he was sober and asked how you lived the journey, and his drinking crises where he remembered for an eternal time painful moments for all and reproaching you, even if you had nothing in it.

---

After more than a fortnight of travel, you finally arrived on the edge of the ramparts of Storm’s End, gave you the impression of being gloomy, all its shades of dark color, made you think of the tales that your nanny told you before going to sleep. Your servant looked through the opening of the carriage opposite to yours, observing the little distance that separated you from your destination.

"My lady! Look! In the sky!"

Surprised by her sudden change in behavior, you looked, trying to understand why she had reacted in this way.

You squinted slightly, trying to look towards the clouds that were beginning to gather above the stromlands. It was just clouds, nothing new, just big gray clouds with white reflections. Whatever… There you seemed to see a darker point, moving, appearing and disappearing, moving in movements that did not seem to come from the wind. The more you concentrated, the more you had the impression that it was getting bigger and bigger. Your throbbing heart, you didn’t understand what you see.

"Sir Percival, do you see this form moving in the clouds?"

Sir Percival was a knight of of family who was loyal to yours for several generations, long before the conquest of Westeros by Aegon the conqueror. Percival seemed to be close to your father’s age, as far as you could remember, you had always known her. He had always encouraged you when you were a child doing a task that seemed impossible to you, unlike your father who always found subject to criticism.

Sir Percival mounted on his horse’s saddle, lifted his head, you could see from his profile that he was concentrating, you could see fine wrinkles forming in the corner of the eye that you could see.

“It seems Lady Y/n, that it is, a dragon.”

"A dragon?"

“Lady Rhaenys Targaryen is a cousin of the Baratheon House through her mother. It would not surprise me that other Targaryen would have been invited. Although tensions are still high between the two houses, with regard to the iron thrones. "

“Thank you Sir”

"With pleasure Lady Y/n"

When you put your head in the carriage you began to imagine how big the shape could become, what their dragon riders might look like. Lost in your thoughts, you whispered a sweet.

“Dragons…”

---

Tents stood against the ramparts of the city that was facing the castle. The long and heavy linen fabrics covered them, a ballet of color paraded on both sides of the central aisle. Shades of blue, green, yellow and other warm and cold colors contrasted against the walls of an anthracite gray. The tents closest to the doors were intended for the most noble houses and more precisely for their knights, small paths were formed between the tents, taking visitors in the direction of the tents of the vassal houses, whose tents became increasingly modest according to their ranks and riches.

From inside the carriage, you and your servant could smell scents of roasted meats, grilled vegetables and soups. The smells came from the outskirts of the enormous camp, where servants of vassal houses prepared meals on oak tables, suspended above the campfires, stood pots where various soups and stews marinated. Looking from the openings of the carriage, you could see the knights helping from their squires moving armor, swords, masses and shields towards the forges moving from the city to the camp. The noises they heard were a mixture of words, metal clapping, the neighing of horses and clogs clapping on the ground.

The coach stopped slowly arriving at the level of the places defined at the location of the future tents. Your house was not one of the largest houses of Westeros, but had known to keep its independence from the largest houses, bend the knee only in front of the Targaryen house, after several years of fierce war. Some people in your family had kept a deep resentment towards silver hair, prefer to have links with other houses in Westeros, hence their placement. Coming out of the carriage, you looked around, taking the time to remember every moment, knowing that she would risk being married to a person she did not know at the end of the games.

Your house was placed between the Stark and Tully houses. You had never met a person of the two houses, hearing of them only by the few bits of words coming from messenger or by the books about the conquest of Aegon. The people coming out of the main tent of the Stark house were preparing the beds, moving the weapon and armor racks, they too had to arrive shortly before you.

"You do not speak without permission, you do not look a lord or a lady in the eye, keep your head down, and most importantly! Don’t make me ashamed!"

The words of your father came out of your thoughts, since your departure from the castle, he had not spoken to you directly, you understood that he would not speak to you more, and kissed the head you understood that it was the best solution for the moment, no one present knew you except the knights of your house, no one would have stood up for you.

Sir Percival descended from his horse, standing beside you. He put his hand against your shoulder.

"Don’t worry Lady Y/n, I’m here."

You sighed softly, feeling the weight of the years under your father’s yoke continue to pressure you.

"Shall I wait here until the tents are up?"

"No my lady, your father allows you to go around the camp, under the supervision of a knight."

"In that case, will you be prepared to accompany Sir Percival?"

"Of course."

Sir Percival, bowed gently in the direction of the young woman, letting his young squire take the reins of his horse, helmet under his arm, the knight began to walk beside the young woman, understanding more than his lord that the young woman needed it.

---

You felt several glances resting on you, despite everything you tried to keep your head high, constantly repeating to you, that your father did not see you, that he could not have concrete proof on your posture. The lord closest to your father looked at Sir Percival, recognizing the knight who at times accompanied Lord Y/f/n, they all watched the young woman round, recognizing for the most observant, the few features she shared with her father. So she was the young woman?

Murmurs began to roam the tents, first of all the less noble houses, clearly understanding that it was their chance to assert their houses in order to win ranks to theirs. The noblest houses were the most reluctant, the lords knew enough Y/f/n to know that your presence was hiding something. Never had your father talked about you, no hint, nothing. You could be legitimate just like a bastard they knew nothing about. A union between the two families by your blood did not guarantee the loyalty of the Y/h/n family, or even your legitimacy. There was still a positive point, your house, was known to have stood up to the Targaryen, it was powerful, but the disadvantage came from one man. Lord Y/f/n Y/h/n. Your father. Who of his problems with alcohol, became one of the most detestable men of Westeros, be it his words invaded with a hatred towards any man not thinking in the same way as him, refusing the slightest annoyance, and his bad manners, he turned and farted without any shame, whether during dinners, the shawl or in interviews when they took place at night.

Some shameless lords were already beginning to want to bring their sons closer, thinking they understood that your father could be overthrown quickly in case of an alliance, but the knight accompanying you watched over the grain, He threw black glances at people who observed too insistently his protégé. Fortunately all the families present were not insistent, greeting you simply out of politeness, resuming their activities just after.

From your walk in the central aisle, you could see the affinities of noble houses from their positions, the north remained mainly between them, the south with the south and then there were some houses that did not remain according to their geolocations on Westeros, But by their wedding rings, the children came and went from tents to tents, laughing at each other in a game that annoyed adults.

Looking at them you felt a slight pinch in the heart, you had never known a real moment of innocence to play with other children except one or two children of servants who ended up punished. Only your nanny and some knights kept you company, trying to alleviate the boredom of the little girl you were.

But of all the looks on you, you could never have imagined that one of them would have made you miss a heartbeat.

---

From both ends of the long alley stood two very large tents, of red and black color. From the location that the house Y/h/n, moving in the direction of the right stood the largest and most flamboyant in its shades of red, it was almost contiguous to the large door, this one raised flags of a red tricephal dragon on a black background. Many knights and servants moved in and around the tent, but no silver heads were visible.

“The king is very weak, he must have sent fighters on his behalf for the games.”

It was Percival, who saw the curiosity in your eyes, had spoken.

“In this case, who owns the second tent? It also carries the dragon.”

Percival concentrated, trying to understand why the Targaryen could have been divided into two parts. The Velaryons stood between the royal tent and the knights fighting under the banner of the Baratheon. In this case, the crown wanted to show that the union between the houses was maintained, although the princess was not the future queen. Who was in the second tent? To this Percival had no answer.

"I’m afraid I don’t know, lady Y/n. "

“It is nothing, we will probably learn in the coming days.”

You were right, when you returned to the tent of your house, you could see the second Targaryen tent grow. Unlike the royal tent, it was mainly composed of linen from a jet black. Two banners in the colors of the Targaryen were placed on both sides of the opening. There was very little movement around, the tent seemed almost deserted.

Almost.

A snap of armor was heard, you turned around at the same time as Percival and saw several knights walking quickly in your direction, Percival just had time to grab your arm and shoot at him, preventing you from being rushed. Slightly under the surprise, you did not pay much attention to the number of knights, or even to the fact that they did not apologize. The only thing that captivated your attention was a hair color that you had never seen beyond book to screen, silver hair, your eyes very easily found those that belonged to the person with silver hair. The purple eyes were almost hypnotic, you never thought possible that it exists, it took you a few seconds to turn away, not without fighting. In front of you, a man who seemed barely older walked, he was dressed in black with small touches of dark red. If at first the man’s gaze was surprised, it was quickly changed by a smirk. You felt your breath stay in your throat, time seemed to you to last an eternity. Although in reality your exchange of gaze did not last more than two minutes.

Percival with his protective arm around you, looked at the man younger than him, he growled. He understood why a second tent was present. Prince Daemon Targaryen would participate in his games, and this no longer in Percival. The prince since the appointment of Viserys as successor to the throne, was in dispute with the royal family, rumors about his adventures in the bordelles spanked numerous as his disrespect for people he did not see as his equal, refusing the arranged marriage with Lady Rhea Royce. The rogue prince was not someone the fathers wanted their daughters to meet. Percival though merely your protector feared that the prince would fall under his spell, not for the punishment he would have had, but he only wanted to protect you.

---

On the first night, Y/f/n ordered his knights and servants to keep you inside your tent, refusing to let you speak to anyone before he begins the bargain of your future marriage. He didn’t want you to undermine his progress, not noticing your look lost in the void.

Although you could not get out of the tent, the servants kept the entrance open allowing everyone to see what was happening outside, finding agreements with the servants of the nearby noble houses to say nothing to their lords.

You were sitting near the entrance and looking out, seeing that the movements of the day had faded by the time the noblest houses had come to the opening dinner of the games. You kept hoping you could see the silver-haired man again before your father came back, but he didn’t seem to have left his tent.

This is what you believed, because under a cloak with the hood up, the young prince was out, wanting to enjoy the night outside the large camp. He saw you from the corner of his eye, a servant was taking care of your hair (long/short, thin/thick, lise/curly/frizzy, etc.) y/hair/c.

Daemon was intrigued, he had already met your father on very rare occasions, as well as your half-brother. Oh more than once, the desire for murder had risen in his mind, he could still bear the Baratheons, but these two men, were detestable. Daemon wondered who this round young woman was, having never heard of her. Something in her attracted him, but he did not know what it was and he did not like it.

---

The night gave way to the days, the first games started at dawn, the archery tournament was on the outskirts of the city, long lines of targets next to each other butted in front of wooden bleachers. Ropes prevented the peasants from meeting the nobles. Your house was divided in two, the closest to the ground you were sitting with your servant, you had to keep your head low, feeling the heavy look of your father in the back, this one was two rows above you.

Daemon, from his place, standing back from the royal family, held a goblet of wine in his left hand, he tried to keep his gaze in the direction of the archers who were advancing, but was without hope. His gaze turned away at the slightest opportunity in your direction, he could see that since night, your posture had changed. From a straight posture, you had bent the spine letting appear some curves that he had not yet seen and which did not displease him, observing what was behind you, he saw Y/f/n, of which the black look was directed in your direction, while he seemed to speak with the lord next to him. Daemon despised this scene.

“You seem to be more interested in the Y/h/n house than in the tournament, my prince.” a lord who Daemon had forgotten the name, just spoken.

"If you please, my prince, it would seem that Lord Y/h/n wishes to bride his daugther although with her age I doubt that the lords are interested, they prefer them younger."

This lord annoyed Daemon, whether by his words or by his innuendo.

“At the same time, what did he think of his daughter, she only whas the second child, and of a second wife, his son will inherit everything.”

The second child… Daemon knew what it was like to be the second, more than anyone else.

---

[aerysa-targaryen]

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞

Plot: You are the daughter of Crolys and Rhaenys, and you are supposed to married the prince Daemon, but you're kinda scared because of your body.

Request by: @fezandashgirlfriend

Type: angst/fluff

Warning: Not confident reader

Characters: Daemon Targaryen x Chubby!reader

Numbers of words: 2.7k

When your father told you you were getting married, you were very happy, even if you were intrigued, who could have asked to marry you? However, your mood changed quickly when you knew who you were going to have to marry. Prince Daemon Targaryen, your mother’s cousin. You didn’t see him much because of the tensions in the family, but his actions, what he did, you knew that. Because of this, the prospect of marrying him suddenly seemed less cheerful. But what could you do? you had to accept or your family would be frowned upon so this concluded the marriage. You shared your doubts with your older sister, but she sent them back with a stroke of her hand so you remained silent. According to you, there was another problem, your body, you hated it, people were going to whisper about your physique at the royal court. You were afraid of that because you knew how bad people could be with people who didn’t look like them.

┊

Unfortunately, the wedding day came too soon for you. Barely a week after your father announced that you were going to have to get married, the wedding took place. Why you? This question went round and round in your head as you flew on your dragon to the Red Keep where you were supposed to get married and where your future husband and your dress were waiting for you. Your dragon lands abruptly on the ground, as if it felt your mixed emotions. You quickly spotted the king moving towards you with a smile on his face. Welcome y/n" he talked you gently when he came to put his hand on your shoulder. King Viserys" you greeted him in return, at best ignoring the looks you felt on your back. He immediately invited you home, you had to prepare for your wedding. Unfortunately for you, you did not see your future husband who must have gone to town for entertainment.

┊

The day passed quickly as you prepared, helping different maids, you tried several dresses for your wedding. You hated it. All day long it was just that, scrubbing dresses, revisiting dances one last time. So came the fateful day, the morning, you trembled, you had no desire for this marriage. However, your mother quickly made you understand that your opinion served no purpose and helped you to put on your dress while you had tears in your eyes.Your mother accompanied you to the entrance of the room where the ceramics would take place, She left you alone outside as she entered the room. You could hear the noises, the voices inside the room. You knew you couldn’t stay outside forever, so you inspired and you walked into the room where many people were already present. No sooner had you set foot in the room than you felt all eyes turn towards you.

┊

You just kept your head high, staring at an invisible spot behind the head of the king, your future brother-in-law. You reached the table quite quickly and came to sit next to your bride who did not deign to look at you, her gaze was fixed on the dancers. His eyes were glassy, you knew that look, he was still drunk from the night he’d been drinking. You say nothing but quickly, you and your future husband, you were forced to get up to dance the traditional dance of the Targaryens. You danced to perfection but neither he nor you seemed happy. Then, you continued to dance, with your father, your brother, your mother. The afternoon passed quickly and as you were about to sit down at the table, you wondered why Daemon didn’t look happy. Your father had told you that it was he who had asked to marry you, the wedding ceremony ended quickly and concluded on the marriage, you married as the Targaryens have always done, with blood.

┊

After the ceremony, you and Daemon went up to your room. Daemon turned to you as you sat on the bed and raised your eyes to him, uncertain of what you should do but the man continued to stare at you with an indescribable look and you did not move, only when it is turning away from you do you breathe again. You know what they want us to do" for the first time since you entered the room, Daemon spoke. you shook your head, your mother had already told you about it. He finally got closer to you as you were becoming fearful. But the night that followed erased your fears, and the prince cherished you as best he could, and you did not regret a single moment you spent that night.

┊

The sun was rising as you woke up surprised to feel an arm around your hips and a warm breath on your neck. Daemon was sleeping against you, he seemed deeply asleep so you did not move, you looked up towards the window where you could observe the sun that sunrise before it came to illuminate you and you dropped a grunt while the light dazzled you. You who thought that the man in your bed was also asleep, you were surprised to hear a little laugh behind you. "I didn’t know you didn’t like the sun," he said, and you could know, without seeing it, that he was smiling and that amused you. "Slept well?" you asked him as you turned to him. " very well, especially after our activities last night" he added looking at you to try to see your reaction, you just stuck your head in your pillow and you mumbled "very funny Daemon" on a tiring tone. You never really liked that kind of joke, but you know you’re gonna have to get used to it.

┊

As you were chatting, you heard someone knocking on the door but you didn’t answer as daemon grumbled about the fact that he was never left alone. Wait" he yelled at the door as he turned towards you, you raised your head to him "I think it’s my mother’s servant" you said in a complaining voice as the person was knocking on the door again this time Daemon seemed to get angry." I swear the next time you knock on that door, your head will end up on a picket pole and I’d be happy to come and slice it myself!" this time, his threat seemed to have an effect because you heard the person walking away. "What are you going to do today?" you asked him while he was lying next to you. " I don’t know, certainly get myself reprimanded again because I fired that maid because he certainly asked her to come and see us. Also possibly make a flight on Carxes to escape this meeting I’m supposed to have this afternoon with the council." He shighed a mention of his brother and the annoying reunion he was going to try to avoid.

┊

Thus began your day, Daemon rose at first arguing that if you got up first, he would have no choice but to make you stay in this bed for a few hours to satisfy his needs.You laughed, and, once he was gone, you prepared for your turn, you dressed yourself in a beautiful blue dress before leaving your room to go you don’t know where. Mechanically, you remembered that there was certainly a library in this gigantic dungeon. So you started walking, looking at each room until you met your mother, Rhaenys. "y/n!" you turned around and heard her call you and greeted her with a smile. "Mother, how are you?" you asked her then that she quickly approached you. "It’s okay, you don’t disappoint us." she told you and you understood what she was referring to and you looked down "I hope mother" you told her in a calm voice. Where are you going like this, I thought you would enjoy spending the day with your new husband" she said to you with a smile and you sighed "You know I’m not going to spend my days sticking to Daemon" you added in a boring voice. She laughed softly, "I know, come on, read your books, see you at dinner," she said as she walked away from you and you were headed to the library.

┊

You were satisfied when you saw the number of books in the library, the room was beautiful. The floor was covered with light brown color, and we could find different places in the room, places to sit, such as chairs or cushions, all this seemed to be a place where you would feel good. So, as you began to read, the hours began to pass and you did not realize that the time of the meal was passing when someone came to interrupt you in your reading, somewhat bored, you looked up at the intruder but smiled when you realized it was just your husband, Daemon. "You missed dinner, your family thought you were with me but they were surprised to see me arrive at the table alone" he explained to you by coming to sit next to you, you just shrugged your shoulders. "It doesn’t matter, and I think that you agree with me, if I tell you that these books are more interesting than the boring and long meals as your brother used to love them," you explain by starting to read again. Daemon took the book from your hands as you let out a complaint of discontent, you got up. "I understood, I’m coming"

┊

You followed Daemon as he came out of the library, you came to walk beside him and he let a funny remark slip away. "I thought I couldn’t get you to leave your book, tell me, was he more interesting than me?" he asked you with a smile. You smile mischievously, Daemon was going to get caught at his own game, you continued to move forward shaking his head. "Of course, these books are much more interesting and less talkative than you", you said with a neutral face and you had to refrain from laughing when you saw the head he was making." Don’t be shocking Daemon, it was just a joke but you looked for it too" you added and soon the blond-haired man shook his head with a funny look." maybe, but anyway, you answered me. Besides, you have nothing against horses? " You shook your head, these animals were your favorites after the dragons and you quickly learned to ride them when you were young.

┊

Thus, the days passed, punctuated by horseback rides, boring reunions, dragon rides, books and by the love you had for Daemon, and that suited you. However, there was something that was problematic, not for you, but the more time passed, the more you felt the insightful looks or even, sometimes, horrified of the people of the court. they judged you on your body, on your physique, and even if Daemon had repeatedly told you, during your nights together, that he cherished your body, that he adored it and that you were the most beautiful woman of the seven kingdoms, you could not help feeling ashamed. Sometimes, when you were alone in the common room, you looked at yourself in a mirror and you seemed to have an endless list of defects that were non-existent in you, whether on your physique or on your personality, no part of you was spared by your judgment. The people of the court had begun to make vocal remarks about you when they noticed that nothing happened to them if they spoke too loudly.

┊

At first, you managed to bear his infamous remarks but the more time passed, the more numerous the remarks were. They were all meaner than the others. Daemon could only notice how something affected you, even if he did not know what caused you so much sadness and tears. You didn’t talk to him about it, maybe he agreed with them and pretended to like you? So the downward spiral began, the more the days passed, the more you hated yourself and your family watched you fall without doing anything, they all seemed lost because they seemed to ignore your ill-being. However, one evening, you found the courage to come and talk about it in Daemon, well, it wasn’t really courage, you just wanted to know if Daemon shared the opinion of the other people of the court. He was already getting ready to sleep when he saw you arrive and, before he could greet you, you asked him the fateful question: "Do you find me ugly?" The man was surprised as he frowned.

┊

"Why are you asking me that? Would you have gone crazy?" he asked you gently, bewildered. when he saw that you were not answering, he sighed and came to you and took your hands. "No, you are not ugly, you are the most beautiful woman of the seven kingdoms and I love you for that." he gently said to you, guiding you to the bed where you sat down. "Why do you ask me that? please be honest" he asked you in a firm voice, which showed that he required an answer. For nothing" you answered by looking away and suddenly, it seemed that a light bulb had lit up in the brain of Daemon because he seemed to understand where your question came from, however he wanted to know if he was right before going to cut a lot of heads. "Honey, tell me, did the assholes in court dare to make remarks to you?" he asked you in a voice that showed that even if he tried to be calm for you, he was still pissed. You shook your head gently, finally, you dared to tell him.

┊

It didn’t take much more for the man to come and kiss you gently and he pulled back before looking you in the eye as he spoke angry "I promise they will pay, but, you’re beautiful as you are, don’t let idiots tell you you’re ugly. You’re not, everyone’s beautiful, and even if some think otherwise, know that I love you more than anything." he told you when he came to kiss your forehead. " Now I think you should rest, I’ll go and see those idiots who dare insult you, I promise they won’t see the sun rise again." he was going to get up and leave but you held him by the hand. "Daemon, you can’t kill so many people! Your brother would have you killed if you did that. Don’t kill them, frighten them or make them understand that this was the last warning you gave them," you told him quickly, and the man leaned back to you and kissed you." You’re too nice y/n but if that’s what you want, then I’ll do that. and I will come back here to make you understand that you are the most beautiful and honorable woman of the seven kingdoms." He told you before he left quickly, slamming the door behind him.

┊

The men who had attacked you were quickly threatened by Daemon and their cries echoed in the dungeon and you were surprised to see Daemon come back with blood on his clothes. What did I tell you?" You got up to go check that nothing was happening to him and while you were examining his face, he gave a laugh "It’s not mine" he said referring to the red color on his clothes, so you pulled back. However, despite his blood-reddened clothes, he did not let you go away from him as he leaned towards you to kiss you.The next night was sweet and pleasant. For a long time no one was heard remarking about you, and, if ever one dared to make one, he mysteriously disappeared the next day. As the years passed, you gave Daemon two children, a daughter and a son who grew up filled and pampered.

End of the story.

Thanks you so much for reading ! i hope you enjoyed this, as i did, have a good end of day !

[fayeriess]

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ WHEN ANGER

TURNS TO HONEY ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

daemon targaryen x fem!reader

summary: tensions rise between house targaryen and house royce after the death of your sister, lady rhea. the night of princess rhaenyra's wedding feast, accusations come to light, a finger pointing to the brother of the king  — who just so happens to be your lover.

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, loose enemies to lovers trope, scratching kink (??), graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of loss of virtue, daemon being daemon, the usual hotd shenanigans

a/n: yet another installment of 'birth of violence' that has me fanning myself silly. bear with me if there are any mistakes or if you find anything to be incorrect, as i am still slowly easing my way into the fandom. enjoy friends <3

“I am making an accusation.” 

The moment those words were spat out of your cousin's lips with the utmost venom he could muster, you had suddenly wished you were hidden behind the thick walls Runestone provided; mourning the loss of your older sister. 

Gerold Royce should have bit down harshly on his tongue the second his heart burst in flames with overwhelming heat — hatred for the man before him, eyes narrowed with murderous intentions he so desperately wished to act on. 

This occasion was anything but the correct time to address such serious matters, especially under the scrutinous eyes of the King, his heir, and his Hand who had watched with such caution that you had opted to distract yourself by digging your fingernails in the wax-coated skin of an apple you had plucked from the vast array of foods. 

The rhythm of your breathing had grown uneven, breasts squeezing uncomfortable against the upper trim of your dress, pillowed lips pressed in a thin line.

 Daemon Targaryen leaned back in the finely carved wood that made up his seat, nodding in faux understanding at your cousin's bold choice of words. Craning his head slightly to scan his violet eyes across his elder brother and Lord Lyonel Strong, his lips jutted before parting to speak. 

“In King’s Landing, men are made to answer for their slanders. Even old bronze cunts like you.” 

There it was. The infamous insult that sharpened the blade — stabbing it into the already agonized heart of your relative, as well as your own through the sonorous music pouring in the canals of your ears. 

You had known this so-called slander to be true; knowing his profound hatred for the Lady of the Vale had finally been acted upon in the treachery of her brutal murder. It was an unfortunate occurrence you had trampled upon. 

Her skull was bashed to bits, remnants of brain matter scattered about in thick clots of crimson that had decorated the grass and watered the dirt. You had touched with the pads of your fingers, still slightly warm to the touch. Deep within the pits of your stomach, weaved in your intestines, you had known the silver-haired man before you were to take the blame for her untimely demise.

However, you were in no position to come to such a decision, and nor would you ever be. Therefore, Daemon Targaryen would walk away with every limb intact, and you would continue to suppress your fury, forever scarred by the loss.

It was only then that you had sharply stood from your seat, apple long forgotten as it dropped onto the table with a quiet thud, momentarily attracting the curious gazes of those across from you, the others none-the-wiser as they continued to prance about. 

Piercing, violet eyes caught yours for a fraction of a millisecond and if you weren’t as aware as you were now, it was something you were sure to miss. 

Destastation never consumed you so… barbarically.

Gerold stepped forward, chubby fists clenched and shaking with contained wrath. 

Daemon took it as no threat, offering an amused smile as if to mock his feeble attempt at intimidation and defense of his house, his name, and his cousin.

“The truth is, I’m glad you’ve come. I wish to speak to you about my inheritance.” 

“What inheritance?”

“Lady Rhea and I had no heirs. As her husband whatever she was due now passes to me.”

His words to you became a jumbled nonsensical mess.

Surely he had too much wine to drink before he had strutted through the thick doors of the feast hall, all mighty and proud of his feats and dirty achievements.

Before you could stop your actions, you strutted up the four short steps, forcing position next to Gerold whose jaw had grown taut with anger, teeth grinding against each other, practically shaking in place. 

“It seems you’ve forgotten that Lady Rhea has a sister,” Your sharp words cut through the pause of uncomfortable silence that had settled despite music still echoing in the expanse of space, dimly lit, cozy yet unnerving at the same time. “and truth that no heirs have been brought forth, I have a right to claim. As long as I continue to breathe, you will take nothing.” 

The finality of your statement seemed to have temporarily embedded itself in some part of Daemon that wasn’t as rot-ridden as he was, as he had nodded curtly at you, taking longer than necessary.

His lingering stares had never failed to send a chill down your spine, numbing you at the very core of your existence whenever you’d catch his gaze. He had preferred your presence over your sisters, despite the little time you two had spent together. Though he quickly figured that since you and the eldest bronze bitch had come from the same cunt, you were bound to have the same irritating little quirks — he just found you more tolerable, more sheltered than Rhea.

After all, the eve he had flown on the back of Caraxes back to King’s Landing, he had filled you — had given you something to remember him by. It showed when hues of purples and blues decorated the expanse of your stomach, under your ribcage, everywhere he could reach until you could no longer take everything he had to offer.  

Daemon loved to ruin pretty things. And even though he had stated that the sheep were much prettier than any of the women in the Vale, he had not thought of you. 

Roughly circling your arm around Gerold’s bicep, you tugged him away, and back to your designated seats, pulling him down to sit with as much strength as you could. 

“Do not ever make such accusations in front of other lords and ladies of the realm.” You seethe, feeling him stiffen under your near-suffocating grasp, lips pressed together tightly before he nods. 

“Good. Now eat, you’ve been neglecting your needs.” 

And without a word, Gerold obeys. 

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

There’s moonlight casting shadows over the gargantuan towers of the Red Keep, basking certain spaces with a luster so gentle, it almost felt as if you were on your homeland, feeling the grass between your bare toes, inhaling as much fresh air as your lungs could home. 

You could not do that here. 

You could not taint your body with such putrid, toxic air as what loomed over in King’s Landing in thick clouds, dusting over the already sinful streets, waiting to discreetly make its way down your throat until it attacked every single cell in your body. Refuge from the disastrous occurrence of tonight's feast was not to be found here. 

That was something you had quickly come to realize when you had picked at your fingernails draped over the ornate decoration of one of the many balcony railings that riddled the large fortress, mind wandering to other things that developed a small bubble of guilt. 

You wouldn’t feed the monster. No. You couldn’t feed it the small handful of ill-at-ease altercations you’ve had with your brother bound by marriage, and the way he looked at you only intensified it to the point where you were sure it was to burst open, spilling your intestines and long-kept secrets. 

“There you are. You know, you’re very hard to find.” 

Clutching at the fabric of your dress, you rubbed it between your thumb and pointer fingers, spine straightening with such haste that it cracked slightly, back still turned to him. 

That voice had haunted you in your dreams once, maybe twice if you could recall correctly despite your enthusiasm to find a way to rid them from the tissue of your brain. It had chosen to gather in the outer fluid of your skull instead, sloshing around the forefront from to time whenever Rhea had mentioned her cunt of a husband. They had not consummated their marriage, as he had no interest in sticking his cock in the likes of your sister, an eagle with wings far too big for her body. 

That was something he despised about her, amongst many other things. Yet, he couldn’t find it in his dull, black heart to take any of it out on you, a vision among many; a person in his dreams he wishes he could call a stranger.

You had robbed him of something, and although Daemon wasn’t quite sure of what exactly it was, he’d figure it out in time.  As he always did, no matter how rash. 

“Should I be honored to be in your presence after you’ve sought me out, then?” 

A brush of wind passes, seeping through the thin material of your clothing, through your skin, and wrapping itself around your bones. 

“I think I should be … lady of the Vale.” 

Turning your head in his direction, you narrow your eyes into slits as he makes his way toward you, hands clasped together firmly behind his back, hair slightly disheveled. 

There’s a lump in your throat that you swallow with difficulty, heaving out a large, dramatic sigh, keeping your eyes locked on the side of his face, the slope of his nose. His brows were furrowed, the lines of age even more visible on the face you’ve only had the pleasure of touching once when he had thrust into you. 

The mere thought of it calls upon the guilt again. So, you resist.

“I am in no mood for jesting, I only wish for a moment of peace. That is all I ask.” As tired as you had sounded, you had felt even more defeated knowing that no matter how much tea you’d ingest when you reached your temporary chambers, it would not be enough to keep your rumination at bay. 

There’s a whistle somewhere nearby, a momentary distraction from how close he’s standing to you, shoulder to shoulder, body heat practically radiating like the fires you’d set deep within thick branches and high grass. 

“You have a sly little tongue on you, don’t you?”

“Only when one claims what is to be mine.” 

“Hm,” He hums, turning his head slightly to stare you directly in the eyes. “So eager to replace that dear sister of yours. Tell me, how did she so tragically pass again?

Daemon was trying to get under your skin. It was a skill he was best suited at, especially in a time of vulnerability such as this, with no one else around to diffuse the fire sparking between the both of you as your chest expanded so wide, that your lungs burned, 

Grinding your teeth together, you could taste nothing but wine on your tongue as you pressed it against the roof of your mouth.

“A snapped neck and a crushed skull.” He tutts, “Such a shame.”

“Do not speak of my sister in ill manners when she has no way to defend her honor.” You spat, hand shaking at your sides, nails digging into your clammy palms – leaving crescent indents in their wake. 

“Is that not why she has a sister to take her place when it suits her, to fuck her husband without remorse.” The smirk that appears at the corner of his lips has your chin wobbling in anger, a hand outstretched to clasp at the lining of his blood-red sleeve; the same blood-red that painted your sister's head when it laid cracked open on blades of grass. 

“Laying with you was an insult to my virtue.” 

Slowly, as if you were to strike him at any moment, Daemon raised a hand, gently pressing it against the pillowed flesh of your bottom lip, wet with saliva and ready for him to devour all over again; the taste of citrus coating his taste-buds. 

“I rather enjoyed our time together.” He admits with amusement as if the agony written on your face was purely a source of entertainment. 

With unshed tears burning behind your irises, you blink, wrinkling your nose in mild disgust at the man in front of you. “Fuck you.” 

And with that, he presses his lips against yours, teeth clashing against teeth as the heat of his mouth overpowers your will to resist. You’re putty in his arms and he knows it by the way his free hand grips your hipbone, gripping as if you keep you in place. 

It’s messy, yet delectable all the same as his tongue mingles with yours, hot and needy as they dance, heads growing hazy from lack of breathing. A quiet moan escapes you when Daemon tugs your bottom lip between his teeth as if he were starving, pulling you as close to his chest as he can manage.

You’d burn for this, surely; for fitting in the arms of your sister's husband as if you’d belong there — for feeling some sort of desire — lust all for the man who had taken her from you. It had become all too real to you when he had brought you into his chambers and unclothed you slowly as if you were a sight to behold, drinking you in like the most expensive wine he’d ever sought out in all of the Seven Kingdoms. 

It had all become too real when his hands had greedily palmed at your breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth with such enthusiasm, that you were positive this was an entirely different man from the one you had come to know. His cheeks were hollow as he sucked, nipped, and swirled his tongue around your hard bud, an arch in your back only encouraging his movements.

The organ in your chest was beating erratically, practically pounding on your ribs, hoping to crack them one by one and leave you a shell of yourself before you were to return home. 

Just for tonight. 

You’d feel his touch one last time before you’d beg for forgiveness for the rest of your life. 

When Daemon removes his mouth from your chest, he finds himself sucking the skin at the base of your neck, paying attention to a particular spot you had reacted to, bruising all he could to claim you just like he told you he would the first, and only night he bedded you.

The sensation of the bare skin of your legs wrapped around his waist sends him into a frenzy as he inhales sharply, slapping his hands at the meat of your thighs before trailing one between your legs to palm at his hard cock, dripping with pre-cum and ready to bury you to the hilt.

“One last time.”  You whisper, letting it mix in the heavy air, watching the way his brows furrow before the only emotion in his dark eyes dissipates. 

He wastes no time, gathering your arousal on his tip before he’s sheathing himself into you, groaning lowly in the crook of your neck as your walls shape around him. Your insides are on fire with the way he’s stretching you, left hand gripping at the sheets near your head.

“I’ll never grow tired of this.” He says it as if he’d have you for the rest of his life, a soft lilt to words that you’d find praising if they weren’t coming from him, a Targaryen — a dragon conqueror.

Biting down on the soft flesh of your lower lip, you stared at his features, clouded with a certain haze of carnal desire. The feeling of your heart beating quickly against the bones of your ribcage subsided when a flow of arousal made itself known at the burning intimacy of the action, causing you to clench around his cock buried within you, your nails dancing down the nape of his neck to the expanse of his back.

A groan left his throat when that not-so-innocent sound he relished reached his ears, and it was hard not to pound you into the satin sheets right then and there. Instead, he pressed his bare chest against yours, skin hot and flushed, his wet lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. 

As the muscles in his back flexed, the light sting of where your sharp nails had once been clawing desperately reminded him just how much he loved the feeling of your nails breaking the skin there the first time. The sadistic action secretly becomes one of his favorites as you do it now. It was physical proof that he could please you in a way no one else could touch you in all the right places, and watch your pretty eyes roll into the back of your head. 

Every single reaction you had to even the slightest touch  — was all because of him. He’d want his touch to be all you’d ever know. 

“So good, sweetling,” He drawled lowly. A quiet but adequate praise before he removed one of his hands from your side, producing a sharp hiss from you as his palm slapped against the outside of the fat of your left thigh once more.

You whined, the pulse between your legs aching with arousal, your slick pooling at the base of his cock when he’d fully unsheathe himself only to ram, back into you again. “Such a tight little cunt, huh?”

Wrapping your legs around his unclothed torso as much as you could manage, you crossed your ankles, pushing him in until he touched a spot so deep within you that you choked on your breath, the air seemingly knocked out of your lungs by his harsh movements as he continued to stretch you.

With closed eyes, you let your eyebrows furrow in concentration at the euphoric feeling he brought to you, a relentless pace that sent your toes to curl involuntarily. 

The air was hot and the sheen of sweet blooming between the both of you did little to quell the intense heat. Skin slapping against skin and your lewd moans echoing off the thin walls and right back into your ears was all that could be heard aside from his panting.

It was only when his hand had slipped near your neck to cup your jaw, that you had let out a sob so pathetic that he had chuckled right into your skin, tears distorting your once clear vision of him as he continued to pump himself in and out of out.

 “Look at you.” He cooed, “So pretty with those tears in your eyes.” 

Your fingers had flexed uncomfortably near the top of his spine, nails scratching against the expanse, and moving toward his scalp, twirling wisps of loose silver hair around your finger as the frame squeaked beneath your bodies. 

His guttural groan vibrated throughout your chest, rattling your body.  The burning sting that seeped through the minor, raw wounds encouraged him to hold your hips down, ramming so deep into you, that you had started to writhe beneath him.

Daemon could tell you were close. 

How could you not be with the way he was abusing your cunt; rocking you through your orgasm.

The slow, deep breaths he took to steady his breathing helped you focus on calming your own as he rubbed the pad of his thumb against your cheekbone, thrusting one, two, three more times before emptying himself in you, painting your walls with his seed, filling you to the brim before swiftly pulling out of you.

Your gaze never left his fit, naked figure as he ran a hand through his hair, shuffling toward the end of the bed, back hunched and toward you as the silence and realization of what you had done ate at you. 

Never again. That was a promise you intended to keep. 

Never again.

[thebadboyfanclub]

She Is A Lady (Ivar x Targaryen Reader)

Ivar has always been such an interesting character to me so imagine how delighted I was when I got my first request for him. Also I would like to announce that I will not be accepting any more requests for daemon Targaryen as of right now cause i have written so many and I have also others that I must write. Enjoy!

Y/n) had always been an adventurous character, ever since she could walk she would wobble away from everyone, curiosity fuelling her little chubby legs, when she got a little older and was able to get on her dragon, Rhaenyras's heart raced as she waited patiently for her daughter to come home.

She was her father's daughter, stubborn, brave, and resilient, “the noble she-dragon” was her title when she would often be referred to in the songs of barbs, she would smirk under her cloak as she would often cover herself to visit the small taverns.

When war called for her (y/n) defended her mother with the fierceness of a dozen warriors, however, the pain of losing her brothers one by one, her dear Daemon who taught her so many things, her grandmother Rhaenys, she could not risk the death of her mother.

“We can still fight dear”

“Mother our troops have fought fiercely for so long, most of our men are dead, we need an alliance”

“What if they kill you?”

“Then I’ll let my brothers know how much you love them and we will be waiting for you, my queen”

Rhaenyra overcomes with emotion fell into her daughters' arms in desperation, her precious little girl was now grown up. (Y/n) hugged her mother back with the same amount of love, she hated the fact that she had to leave her mother's side, but this was their last resort.

Rhaenyra pulled away slightly, her fingers reaching for the few strands of Dark hair that were entangled between her Targaryen silver hair, a small token she had inherited from her late father.

“Promise me you will come back to me”

“I won’t come alone, I’ll come with an army to protect you”

-

(Y/n) had searched for inhabited land beyond the wall for a full day, the sun had been tucked away and replaced by the moon when she noticed a land lit by torches, it would unwise to make a haste landing without a warning first, for all she knew this land could be home for cannibals or demon worshippers.

(Y/n) commanded her dragon to fly a bit lower, circling the city to make her presence known, not only did the people notice her, as they had gathered around for supper to celebrate their victory, they rose from their seats to follow the beast that appeared to make landing a bit further down.

“I am unharmed, well… except the dragon”

“Who are you?”

“Princess (y/n) Targaryen, I come from kings landing”

The men came to a standstill with the princess, both parties waiting for a sudden move so they can “defend” their own, you could only hear the sound of the fire from their torches and their breaths created a mist from the cold.

“I understand this is sudden for you but I have come in peace, I have been traveling on dragon back since dawn, it would be certainly easier for me to explain after I get some type of food if you could be so kind to offer one”

The dim light was not enough to reveal the contraption Ivar was using to stand up on his legs, his eyes piercing through hers in such intensity that (y/n) felt like the man was trying to look into her brain, still she did not waver, she challenged him with her strong look she beheld on those intriguing hues, her flame could be identified from a mile away, this was not a meek princess, she came flying in a beast and stood by it proudly, she was a true warrior sent from the Gods.

“Fine, princess. Leave your sword and dragon here and then you can follow us”

Of course, he knew she was lying, he saw the sword that rested on her hip the minute she got on the ground, intrigued by the astonishing beast she came with he decided to offer her sanctuary.

To his surprise, the princess took out her sword before she came on one knee with it laying flat on her palms.

“This has been given to me by a beloved family member, I do not wish to leave it unattended but I trust you with it, Ser”

“Ivar, Ivar the boneless”

Her face showed exactly how puzzled she was by the nickname the name claimed that he was holding, howbeit she did not have time to question it for long since from the first step Ivar took (y/n) picked up on the metal sound and observed just how stiff his walking as she realized that the man was probably barely able to stand up, his entire weight was supported by a delicates design of metal that went all the way up to his thigh.

Ivar smirked at the sight of the woman offering her sword, she seemed smart enough according to her calculated moves, the sword felt light in his hand as it shined under the moonlight, arrogantly he pointed the tip of the sword directly under her chin, his ego allowing him to consider that he had the upper hand.

(Y/n) gently placed the weapon away from her face and rose to her feet, she had been nothing but gracious she would not allow herself to be disrespected.

“Lead the way, my lord”

She simply suggested, she concealed her facial expression well though the devil was always in the details, Ivar could see her hands forming into fists.

“Welcome to Kattegat princess”

He turned his back on her while she took small steps to stay behind him, she did not want to offend him by walking faster so her pace was slow enough to let him walk.

(Y/n)s eyes traveled around everything, people’s faces, their clothing, their tables, their homes, it seemed like everyone was living a simple life, it reminded her of the roads of kings landing.

Ivar could hear the whispers from his subjects, they were all taken back by Ivars sudden kindness, and they all expected him to kill her on the spot, he had to admit that the idea did go through his head, yet something in him told him to let her join their feast, maybe it was the fearsome dragon, maybe her alluring appearance.

Alas, (y/n) took a seat next to him, and quite swiftly the servants gave her a plate full of food and a goblet with ale, the chicken was warm and the ale did the trick of warming her up as everyone danced around the fire, a faint smile played on her lips while Ivar observed her.

“So what brings you here princess?”

“War I am afraid”

“War?”

“In my homeland, we have one king that rules over the land, my family has been been in that position for over a century, yet it is the very first time that a woman-my mother- is to assume authority, that did not go well with her half brother”

“So you ran?”

“I certainly have not, my brothers were killed, my stepfather, my grandmother… all gone”

Ivar felt sadness rush through his chest at how the princess's chin quivered, her hushed tone trembling as she uttered the last two words, her doe eyes misting in the firelight, Ivar was not known for his empathy, still, he reached for her hand under the table to give it a slight squeeze.

“My mother was killed by my father's first wife, she released an arrow while my mother was walking away”

“How did you respond?”

“Oh I’ve tried to kill her several times”

“It is quite macabre, how the family is always the one that causes the biggest pain”

“I suppose, if you are not running then what brought you here?”

“Desperation, countless battles have taken most of our men, I was hoping to look for allies”

“You described it perfectly, desperation is the only thing that could make someone believe that another army of men would come to die for you”

“My mother is all I have left, wouldn’t you do anything to bring your own back to life?”

“Definitely”

“It might sound cruel but forgive me for saying I do not crave to understand your pain”

She was honest Ivar gave (y/n) that much, they sat there gawking at one another, she stood tall, she did not waver under his eyes as most people did, she showed no signs of fear, she did not care about anything, and let’s not even start of how ambitious she appeared to be.

Ivar took a swig of his ale without looking away from those distinguish violet hues, he recalled how the prophets have whispered to him of a queen of a faraway land.

“Your queen will help you fly amongst the clouds, you’ll know lands beyond the eye”

He had brushed it off as a riddle, but now he started to understand that it was the only time the prophet meant every word, could she- princess (y/n) Targaryen- be his queen?

There, for only the briefest moment and for the first time he felt the warm sensation of his heart thumping at the mere sight of her smile, like Freya had come from the clouds to place her cloak around the two youngsters. For so long Ivar had brushed off the idea of love or marriage, sometimes he would even the joke that the goddess herself has cursed him or turned his back on him, cruelly denying him the blessing of a true loves match.

“I cannot throw my men to a war over lands I know nothing about”

“I figure that we will ride tomorrow”

“Ride?”

“We can strap you up on Daylight and you will be safe as a passenger”

“You mean I go up in that?”

“Hey, she is a lady”

Ivar cackled at her correction regarding her dragon. It had been a while since one was so casual with him, that treated him with kindness without fearing his outbursts, sure her ignorance of not exactly knowing his antics had something to do with it, albeit Ivar thoroughly enjoyed her presence, her wit and pride complimented her.

As (y/n) bit her bottom lip her gaze went over to his legs, she wanted to ask as silence overtook them, but she debated if it was the right decision.

“It’s not an injury, I was never able to walk”

“Brittle bones, the masters in my land had informed me of such condition. Back in the day, they used to kill babes that seemed to hold such an illness”

“Oh that is what happens here as well, my mother forbade it”

“She sounds like a lovely woman”

“She was”

(Y/n) could deeply empathize with the look that took over Ivars handsome face, how his expression clouded for just a moment, how his jaw tensed and his lips stiffened to a thin line, she could tell that Ivar was not looking at anyone particularly, he was reminiscing as moments that they shared passed through his ice blue hues.

Ivar was pulled back to reality by her gentle hand resting on his thing, usually, he would shove away anyone that dared to touch his legs, but surprisingly he just allowed his hand to find hers and rest on top of it, a part of him yearning for the warmth of her touch, her genuine interest and zest.

“I am certain she is very proud of you, I understand you two probably shared a very close bond”

“We did, but let’s not dwell on such events, you must rest I do not want the rider of such a large beast to fall asleep while they hold my life in the reigns of a dragon”

They smiled at one another, a grin that behind it was resting countless words left unsaid. Ivar was a stranger to the goodwill of people, although with her, as his eyes rested upon her features he felt like his anger vanished, like a wave that held her name washed through his experience with cruelty and even his brothers belittling him was now gone.

“This feels strange”

“I agree princess, but I do not want it to go away”

“Me neither”

She whispered, her eyes lowering down to the ground to avoid the foreign sensation that was Ivars presence. Ivar allowed her to retreat, as he looked around it dawned on him that a few of the others had also taken it to become viewers of their encounter, he could not blame them.

With some difficulty he rose from his seat with the goblet of Ale in his hand, demanding the attention of everyone to realign with their leader.

“It is with great honor that I present to you the princess (y/n) Targaryen, the future queen of her land, she has come to us with a request for an alliance, to fight alongside her army for a land we do not know. Tomorrow I will ride with the princess to see for myself that foreign land, as well as to marry her”

“What?”

“To unite our kingdoms, to rule by her side in her homeland and for her to rule by my side in mine, to give us a reason to help her. Raise your glass, to your future queen”

Requests are open!

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Well 😻 stepdaughter start to love daemon when baby number 6 born. More jealous Rhaenyra

A/N: I hope you like it!

pairing: Dark!Daemon Targaryen x Stepdaughter!Reader

summary: stepdaughter start to love daemon when baby number 6 born. More jealous Rhaenyra

Word count: 1,1K

Warnings: Fluff, childbirth

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

"How much longer does my wife have to endure this?" Daemon questioned angrily glaring at the midwife between your legs. Your cried when another contraction hit you. Your hands clutched onto Daemon needing some kind of anchor for your pain.

"I know my love, I know" He tried reassuring. His free hand pushed back your sweaty hair.

"No you don't know! All you know is how to wet your cock you cunt! You screamed pulling away from him only to begin slamming your hands against his chest and he took it. If this was what made you fell better then he will endure it.

"Shhh" He shushed hugging you closely The midwife looked at him worriedly.

"What is it?" He asked now worrying himself. You had gone into labor almost two days ago now, groaning in pain until it was too much and your screams filled the castle.

"If her grace does not start pushing soon, we will lose her and the babe" The midwife answered. She had been begging you to push for almost ten minutes but you refused in too much pain.

"Please my love, push for me and for our children, they need you" Daemon begged leaning his forehead against yours. His hands were gentle as always with you coaxing you through this.

"Do not leave me" You begged shaking your head from side to side. You had heard of the stories, what your grandsire had done to your grandmother, letting them cut her open like some sheep and pull out her child from her insides only for him to die hours later.

"Never, my dove" He kissed your forehead. You took a deep breath to compose yourself.

"Push your grace" The midwife instructed. You nodded encouraging yourself and pushed with all your might. Hand curling around Daemon's painfully but he did not complain, he never did with any of your other births. Your eyes trailed over to him watching him breathing with you, reminding your to breath and that it will be over soon.

"My brave girl" He praised kissing your knuckles before pushes. You took another deep breath cursing your mother for not being here when her only daughter was going through her birthing her own grandchild.

"One more" The midwife promised seeing your energy begin to slip out of you. You will not give up because Daemon was here and he will rain hell upon the world if something were to happen to you.

"There we go" The midwife cheered as your slipped into her arms. Plump with fat from all the food Daemon force fed you even when you were full, and screaming loudly to show the world they were healthy.

"A boy" She handed the baby to his father. Daemon hugged him closely feeling his heart swell in size making room for his sixth child from you.

"Show him to me" You begged trying to look over his shoulder. Daemon leaned down to show you the child. You made no move to take him not wanting to risk hurting him when you had no strength.

"Baeron" You whispered lifting your hand up to caress his chubby cheek with your finger. Daemon leaned his forehead on your as you both watched your son wiggle in his father's arms.

"As you wish, my love" Daemon agreed without a second thought. He had turned to be a slave, for you and your children. The second Jacaella was born and placed in his arms he was ready to place the world at your feet, you were his goddess.

"Thank you" He looked up to look at you. His eyebrows raised in shock seeing you already admiring him, his every move. You have never spared him a second glance usually, especially after giving birth he has always been at the back of our head.

"He's perfect" You whispered but keeping your eyes on your husband.

"Yes he is" Daemon nodded in agreement. Always by your side even if you were wrong, protecting you and taking your side against even your mother. You two pulled away at the sound of the doors opening to show your mother finally making an appearance with your children following behind her.

"He's here" She sneered looking in disgust at Baeron. When Jacaella was born she broke down in tears but slowly her love for you and your children grew smaller as Daemon's love grew bigger. You wander if she loved you at all at this point.

"Baeron, mother" You introduced. Your heart swelled watching Daemon move to place Baeron in his cradle only to help your other children climb your bed and took Vael from her wet nurse so she could leave you and your family alone.

"Another brother?" Jacaella groaned leaning on your shoulder with a frown. Daemon laughed alongside you reaching over to pat your daughter's cheek.

"Yes, another brother graced us" Your mother spat glaring down on your child. For the first time you feared for your children in your mother's presence. You reached over to squeeze Daemon's arm in fear. He understood without you having to say anything.

"How about we all leave so the mother and son can rest" Daemon suggested getting off the bed. The children who grew bored fast scrambled to leave without a second question. Your mother threw one last glare at you before leaving. Daemon sighed in relief closing the door behind Vael's wet nurse.

"Daemon" You called earning his attention. He turned to look at you worried that you were in any pain only to found you smiling at him with your hand outstretched to him. He stalked over almost cautiously trying to remember if this were one of his many dreams of you or reality.

"What is it, sweet girl?" he asked sitting down beside you. His hand latched on yours, one of the few of your initiated physical touches and maybe the first that was not meant to cause him pain like your do when giving birth or when you scratch down his body, especially his back when he makes love to you, this was soft and gentle.

"I love you" you whispered shyly. Daemon's heart stopped with fear, fear that this was fake and he will wake to the ruthless reality of your hate.

"I love you" You repeated to snap him out of his daze.

"Truly?" He asked. You nodded with a small shy smile, you looked so innocent almost transporting him back to the times before you married, before you were found in the arms of Aemond still too young for love.

"I love you too" He pulled you in a hug wanting to stay in that moment for the rest of his life if he could.

[writingsofwesteros]

Can you do female daemon targaryen x older brother Dom male reader they are married they have more than one child they had jealously sex

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

It was not your fault that your niece seemed to have a little crush on you. It seemed your wife did not see it that way if her fiery stare was enough to go by. “Thank you, my Princess..” You purred up to Rhaenyra as she handed you her favour. Those bright eyes of yours looked to the side; seeking out your lovely girl.

Those bright locks of hers; so straight and long cascaded down her back as she bounced the little boy she had given you. The soft, red dress clung to her curves in perfection as you slowly began to move towards her. “Shall we see Caraxes soon…” Daemon hummed to her little boy who could only babble excitedly. 

Daemon cuddled her son close and gently rocked him as he burrowed into your neck. His chubby fingers clutching at your locks. “He has a strong grip.” You hummed as you slowly knelt down next to your wife. The ladies and royals of the court sat around as the Tourney continued it’s bloody play.

“He gets it from his father.” Daemon whispered as she looked towards you; her bright eyes dancing in amusement. You hummed; a soft smile coming over you as you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. Daemon leaned into the touch even as her eyes found Rhaenyra.

Gods, she was brazen, Daemon thought to herself. Her fist began to clench as she tried to focus on her babe. “Uncle…” The whore practically purred before she turned towards Daemon. “Daemon.” Rhaenyra hummed; her smile widening before she turned back to you. In return, you gave Rhaenyra your full attention.

A mistake, you realised too late. A soft huff had your head turning to see Daemon slowly moving to her feet. Your babe on her hip as she ruffled his locks for a moment. “Dae…” Your words were interrupted as she brushed past you. Your own eyes continued to watch as she found a place next to Harwin Strong. 

Your eyes twitched as you watched your wife become a little too close to your liking. Rhaenyra’s words were hardly finding your ears as you watched Daemon’s pretty laugh echo out. Harwin was not that amusing, you thought to yourself.

~

“Did you think you were being funny?” You whispered into her ear. Your fat cock stuffed inside her weeping pussy that was still so tight. You had ripped her nightgown off as soon as you entered the room. Her arse was red with the slaps you had given her and you knew she was now lost to the pleasure.

Daemon’s eyes were welling up in tears as the pleasure engulfed her. The sound of her wetness echoed around the room as you brought her close. The movement pushed your cock deeper as your hands reached for her ample, still sensitive breasts. “No..no, please…” She whimpered out.

You only chuckled darkly as your fingers were becoming covered with milk. Your hands began to palm her now whilst your thrusting only quickened. “Good girl..” You purred even as the annoyance of the situation was still buried deep inside you. “That’s it..” You whispered as she fluttered around you.

You knew her body so well and used it against her; in the bedroom and outside of it. Did Daemon not realise you needed Rhaenyra close - for your own ambitions and thoughts of power. It seemed you had underestimated her jealousy and your own for that matter as you remembered Harwin.

Gods, you wanted to breed her again and again. She was yours. Not your brothers, nobody but your own. Her slender legs wrapped around your middle as she reached for the headboard to stop herself from being fucked up the bed. Your thrusts had never stopped as she grabbed onto your arse.

Your own head fell back; the matching locks cascading down as you pushed deeper. A cry of pleasure escaping her when you felt the spongy spot of hers that had Daemon gasping out. “Please…I won’t speak to him..” Daemon babbled. Her lips parted and you took that moment to capture them.

Gods, she was pathetic, Daemon thought to herself. A little bit of pleasure and she was in your hands. Your tongue danced on her own; drool falling into her mouth as you fucked her harder. Her legs began to shake as she felt her stomach already tightening in pleasure. Her soft, ample breasts brushing against his chest.

“Yes! Oh…yes!” Daemon cried out as her head fell back from your mouth. Her eyes rolled whilst you moved to mouth at her neck. You sucked and nibbled on her soft skin; leaving marks for all to see in the morning. They would all know she was yours; as if the babe Daemon had given you was not enough.

It was obviously not, you thought to yourself as you looked down at her beautiful body. Your cock pushed in and out with speed as her wetness was dripping down. “Too full..” Daemon whimpered; looping her arms around your neck whilst you ignored her. No, she was not full..not yet.

Daemon’s orgasm ripped through her as she burrowed into your neck. Your mouth watering scent washes over her as she squirts around your cock. She nearly pushed you out but you only pushed deeper. You watched as she fell apart. Her body thrashing around from underneath you as her face screwed up in pleasure.

“Fuck, that’s it…” You moaned; nearly growling in pleasure as she clamped around your throbbing cock. Your hand slowly began to fist it, pushing your cum inside her hot, weeping pussy. She took it so well; she always did, you thought with soft moans falling from your own lips.

“You are mine.” You purred down to her, pushing your cock deeper as you leaned in. Your head rested against her own as she whimpered up at you. “And I am yours.” You whispered into her ear and hummed happily when she fluttered around you. Her arms wrapping around your body once more.

[axelsagewrites]

My sweet author,could I get you an extremely nsfw fluffy (with some angst) imagine/oneshot modern Daemon x poc chubby fem!reader, where she's been feeling insecure about her body lately (dodging his touches and asking him to turn off the light in moments of intimacy) He notices and decides to ask her what's going on, at first she doesn't talk and says it's nothing, but ends up telling. So he takes her into the bedroom and just adores her and shows her how much he loves her and that she doesn't have to feel insecure about her her body. sex) please?

Daemon Targaryen*I Adore You

Pairing: Daemon x f!reader

Word count: 2472

Warnings: body image issues, comparison, slight jealousy, Viserys making dickish comments, praise, slight teasing, f! receiving oral, fingering, p in v sex, light choking, unprotected sex, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

When you and Daemon first started dating you couldn’t keep your hands off each other long enough to even care how your body looked in whatever position he was currently twisting you in. Not even for a second did Daemon make you feel insecure. He was constantly giving you compliments, touching you, holding your waist or squeezing your hips. Not a day went by where that man did not make you feel appreciated and loved.

However, no matter how much love someone else gives you doesn’t make up for a lack of love in your own self. You had felt confident initially, in part because of Daemons sweet words and lingering touches, however recently you couldn’t help starting to compare yourself to everyone you saw online.

However, one event last week really sent your insecurities over the edge. You had only met Daemons niece and nephews in passing but after dating Daemon for almost six months he thought it only made sense you join him at his annual family reunion his brother would host. For the most part everyone had been kind and welcoming, some of the younger ones not being interested in you being there but that’s not what had bothered you.

Despite it being Viserys party he was the last one you got to meet, not long before dinner was served. You were stood talking to Rhaenyra when her father approached you both with a warm smile, “you brought a friend I see,” Viserys said, reaching out a hand for you to shake.

Rhaenyra laughed as you awkwardly shook his hand, “no dad she’s here with Daemon,”

“oh!” Viserys said, his eyes going wide for a moment before he quickly tried to hide his shock, “forgive me dear you’re just not what I was expecting,”

His words made you worry but Rhaenyra swooped in again, “I swear he told you last week he was bringing his girlfriend,” she said, confused at her own dad’s obliviousness.

“no, it’s just- you know you’re not his usual type,” he said with an awkward smile that made your stomach feel like it had been sucker punched, “it’s a good thing though, mixing it up,” he said, punching the air in the awkward ways dads do. Rhaynera did scold him, and you assured them it was fine despite the anxiety bubbling in your stomach.

His comments while he passed you a plate from the barbeque didn’t help. Viserys had made it very, very clear that you weren’t Daemons type. You tried to not let it get to you, telling Rhaenyra not to mention it to Daemon, but you couldn’t help but spiral. You went down his Facebook, going to years old posts to see his ex-girlfriends. Skinny, skinny, skinny and blonde, skinny and white, skinny. Not one curve, one stretchmark, one bad hair day in sight.

It was just all building up inside, threatening to explode. When you woke up this morning, you rushed to the bathroom to wash your face, fix your hair, and straighten your pjs to climb back into bed, pretending to have just woken up not long before Daemon had to for work. “morning love,” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eye before leaning in to kiss you.

You turned your head to the side, and you weren’t even sure why you did as his lips pressed against your cheek. Daemon raised an eyebrow, but you just gave a tight smile, “morning breath,” you apologised.

You had been doing this on and off for the past week, averting his kisses and his touches and not once trying to initiate anything physical. As Daemons back up alarm went off, he just mumbled something before getting out of bed to get ready.

The whole day you practically threw yourself a pity party, almost spiralling in your own insecurity as you lounged on his couch wondering how long you could go on avoiding his touches. You were watching early greys anatomy when the door suddenly opened. Your head span around to see Daemon walking in, a smile on his face and a bag in hand. “hey,” he said, leaning over the couch to kiss your cheek.

“your early,” you said, watching him as he moved to sit beside you on the couch.

“I thought I’d get off early and surprise you,” he said as he reached into the bag to pull something out, “and bring you these,” he said as he handed you a box of the fancy kinds of chocolates, he had bought you for your second date. “I know there your favourite,” he said grinning down at you.

Chocolates. They thought made your stomach curl. “thank you,” you said, putting on your best smile and kissing his cheek.

“what are we watching?” He asked as he slouched into the couch, moving his arm to rest around your waist with his hand on your lower hip.

“greys anatomy,” you said as you shuffled your body making his hand fall onto the couch cushion.

Daemon sighed, his eyes closing for a moment making you fidget with nerves. “what’s wrong?” He said, his voice already sounding exhausted before he opened his eyes which you could barely meet, “have I done something cause for the past week you’ve been ignoring me- “

“I’m not ignoring you-,”

“you won’t let me touch you,” Daemon almost snapped cutting you off as he sat forward to take a breath, “im sorry for snapping but I just don’t understand. This whole week you’ve been so distant,”

“I didn’t mean to be,” you mumbled your eyes shutting as you leaned back into the couch.

You felt Daemon shuffle beside you, his arm going around your shoulders, “what’s wrong? Maybe I can help,”

“it’s not you- “you said, shaking your head as you collected your thoughts, “it’s me and it’s just something your brother said- “

“oh, gods that cunt,” Daemon muttered under his breath, “whatever he said he’s wrong okay he doesn’t know his ass from his elbow,”

“it’s just- “you said finally opening your eyes, “he said how im not your usual type and I already wasn’t feeling great, and it got to me and just ugh,” you rushed out before moving to hold your head in your hands, “I know im being stupid okay but- “

“you’re not stupid,” Daemon said gently, his hands resting on your shoulders to gently pull you up to face him, “you’re anything but. You’re amazing and perfect and beautiful. What does he know about what I like anyway?”

“it’s just I get scared,” you said, your voice low as you avoided his gaze, “I get scared that you don’t actually like me or that you’re just settling,”

“darling,” Daemon said, his fingers grabbing your chin to tilt your head up to finally look into his eyes, “I don’t just like you. I love you and everything about you,” Daemon said as he interlocked his fingers with yours, “your eyes, your smile,” he said, tracing over your face with his free hand making you laugh softly, “your cheeks and don’t even get me started on your body which I adore” he said with a cheeky grin making you laugh at his antics, “you’ve no reason to be insecure,”

“I get you it’s just hard,” you said, sniffling slightly as your eyes finally began to dry. “I just don’t want you to think im gross or something,”

Daemon got serious again for a moment as he held your hand tight, “you’re not gross or any other bad thing you’ve been thinking about. I could never think you’re gross. You’re the sexiest person I’ve ever met,”

“really?” You scoffed, half laughing at his outlandish claim.

But to Daemon it was hundred percent fact, “obviously,” he said as if you asked if the sky was blue. “are you kidding me? Look at you. Look at these hips,” he said, grabbing at your hips over your jeans making you laugh, “and these thighs,” he said, his hand moving to your legs, squeezing the flesh as his eyes wandered your chest, “you wanna know just how sexy I find you?” He asked, his eyes flickering back up to yours with a teasing smirk.

You nodded slowly, still slightly worried about him seeing you again but Daemon stood up suddenly, holding his hand out to you. You took his hand gently, but Daemon suddenly pulled you up, flush against his chest, his lips suddenly crashing onto yours.

His hand moved to your ass, squeezing it as best he could over your jeans. You grabbed his shoulders to try steady yourself as Daemon pressed himself into you and you could feel his cock hardening as it pressed into your stomach. “I’ll show you just how much I love you darling,” he said, breaking the kiss only to drag you over to the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.

When you entered the room, your hand instinctively went to turn off the light, but Daemon suddenly grabbed your wrist, backing you into the wall, “don’t even think about trying to hide yourself darling.” He said, his voice dark, “now get on that bed,”

You nodded as you slipped out from between him and the wall as Daemon stripped himself of his trousers leaving him only in his boxers. You sat on the edge of the bed, nervously picking at the skin around your thumb. Daemon quickly crossed the room, grabbing your chin to make you look up at him in silence for a moment while he studied your face.

When he let your face go, you knew what he wanted. You moved to lay in the bed, Daemon crawling over you as he kissed you deeply again. His hand wandered to your chest, squeezing at your tits before moving down, grabbing, and squeezing everything he could until he ended up at your hips. Your breathing quickened as you felt him work on the button of your jeans btu said nothing as he finally undid the denim, breaking the kiss to slide them off your legs alongside your panties.

Daemon kissed up from your knee, up your thighs, to your hips before finally leaning up, his eyes scanning your body. “so beautiful,” he murmured, his fingertips playing with the hem of your shirt, “may I?” He asked and without saying anything you leant up so he could take the fabric off you. “fucking perfect,” Daemon muttered at your exposed skin, his lips soon latching onto your neck and leaving a trail of kisses and occasional hickeys from your collar bone to your tits, down to your stomach and thighs.

As Daemon reached your thighs his movements slowed as he placed soft kisses on the sensitive skin. You suddenly remembered how much you had been missing his touch. You could feel your breathing falter as his breath fanned over your wet pussy. Daemon continued to kiss your skin, edging closer and closer with each soft peck before finally he placed a wet kiss to your cunt making you gasp lightly.

You could feel his chuckle vibrate against your cunt as he placed another, slow and open mouth kiss to your cunt making you shiver. “you taste so good,” you heard him murmur against your skin before licking up your folds. You whimpered as his tongue began to lap up your folds, your hand tangling in his icy hair to try containing yourself.

Daemon grabbed your thighs, moving them to go over his shoulders as he continued his movements. “so good,” he would praise between licks, kisses, and sucks all while squeezing your thighs. You felt your body want to clench them around his head like you had done in the past, but you did your best to stop yourself until you felt him almost pulling your thighs around his head.

As Daemons tongue began to move in and out of you, his nose nuzzling perfectly against your clit, you could feel a knot quickly approaching in your stomach. Your thighs clenched tighter around his head as you felt your orgasm spill through your body, but Daemon did not stop his tongue till your body went limp, your legs twitching over his shoulders. Daemon pulled back panting before placing a soft kiss on your inner thigh.

“such a pretty mess,” Daemon cooed as he crawled up your body, kissing you deeply, his face still wet with your juices. This kiss was deep and messy, and any thoughts of insecurity had been washed away with all your other thoughts as you felt Daemons hand slip between you both. You whined into the kiss when you felt his fingers teasing your entrance, “and such pretty noises too,” he praised as he sunk his fingers in slowly, stretching you out for him.

You whimpered as Daemon began to curl his fingers, coaxing you back to the edge as his lips moved to suck on your neck and collar bones. He moved his thumb to press over your clit, circling it softly as he fucked you slowly with his fingers while you whined and begged for more. “please,” you whined as his fingers began to brush past your sensitive spot.

“please what?” Daemon asked, his hot breath fanning your skin while his eyes bore into yours.

“please fuck me please,” you begged, shame now lost on you as you craved his touch.

When his fingers pulled out you whined at the empty feeling but when you were excited as you watched Daemon reach for the hem of his boxers. You waited with anticipation as he quickly discarded the fabric at the side of the bed, holding his hard and desperate cock in his hands. “this is what you want?” He asked, a smirk toying his lips as he began to trail his tip up and down your folds.

“yes,” you whined as his tip rubbed over your sensitive clit. “please,” you begged when you felt his tip slowly push into your entrance.

Your hips bucked up, trying to coax him in but Daemon held your hips down, “relax darling,” he said, easing in slowly as he stretched you out, “let me take care of you,” he said as he finally sunk his cock all the way in making you whimper. “so good,” Daemon mumbled as he slowly began his thrusts, one of his hands reaching to squeeze your tit. “so, fucking good,” his thrusts began to speed up, but his eyes never stopped raking your body, praises and curses falling from his perfect lips.

You could feel another orgasm approaching, desperate for it to fall over you again. Daemon could feel your cunt squeezing around him, unsure of how long he could last. Daemon grabbed your legs, pulling them up so he could sink in deeper, his thrusts hitting a deep and steady pace as he began or rub messy circles into your clit. You felt your body tightening, your eyes closing when you felt Daemon hand grabbing your throat, “keep those pretty eyes open darling. I wanna see you,” he said, squeezing lightly making your eyes roll back into your skull as your orgasm ripped through your body.

No sooner than you had come down from your second high was Daemon pulling out to flip you on your front, pulling you to be on your knee’s ass in the air before he sunk his cock back in. His pace was faster as he began to chase his own high but your two previous had already made you so sensitive to his touch. You felt him grabbing your hips, squeezing them tightly as he fucked you into the pillow, “gods these fucking hips,” he said, spanking your ass as he continued his messy thrusts, “could grab them all day,”

It didn’t take long till you could feel his cock twitch inside you. Daemons thrusts faltered as he chased his high and with one final deep thrust you felt him tense behind you, his cum spilling inside you. Daemon wrapped his arm around your hip, holding you up as he caught his breath, before gently laying you down. Daemon crashed onto the bed beside you as you rolled onto your back. “that was amazing,” you gasped as you tried to catch your breath.

“no, you were amazing,” Daemon panted, his head turning to face yours with a lazy smirk on his face, “don’t you ever try hide from me again. I adore you too much for you to run from me,"

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

[two-white-butterflies]

post mortem | part five

Description: Six thieves gather hostages and lock themselves in the Royal Mint of Spain - a criminal mastermind by the alias of the Dragon manipulates the police to buy them enough time to print money. (money heist au)

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader, Aegon Targaryen x Reader, and Aemond Targaryen x Reader.

Rating: Mature 18+

series masterlist | part four

(BEL-AIR, LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA. COLE ESTATE.)

Alicent Hightower knew the price of fortune - all of the material things she had in this life was because of her hard work. She was born in a small village; Bohoniki. It was engraved in her mind that the only way that she'd escape poverty was to study hard. - and study, she did.

Studied so hard that her eyes were strained after a few years - and when the exam results came out - she was thrown away, casted aside for some hot-shot heiress that would probably waste the opportunity of going to college. That was the day that she vowed to work - to step on whoever's corpse it took to have what she wanted.

But she was a woman.

She always had to be a victim against other people's actions. She worked hard to get accepted into a new university, but she ends up falling in love with her Economics Professor. He was beautiful - with silver hair that went past his shoulders. She was enthralled with the way that the words spewed out of his mouth. She had three beautiful children with him - same in temperament, same in looks.

You could take a girl out of the cold, but not the cold out of the girl.

Sooner or later, she'd become the abuser too. She left her family for a businessman - a man that could provide the life that she desired - was it her fault? Partly, but now it's come to bite her.

"Aegon has always been a mischievous child. I don't know why - we always provided him everything that he wanted. Maybe, that was the reason - he had everything and nothing in this world made him happy. But stealing made him happy - he says that it excites him." Alicent cleared her throat, stirring her tea clockwise.

"- it's not the first time that the cops have knocked on my door." she chuckled bitterly, assuming that what had happened was a minor thing - a small shoplifting incident that would be fixed with a few hundred dollars.

"What Mr. Aegon Targaryen has done - is of a different level, Congresswoman. We'll need your help to get him back." Corlys smiled. The government airlifted him to USA the moment they found out about Aegon's identity. What they were doing needed to be stop - before it could become a precedence for other terrorists.

"Get him back? Is he lost?" Alicent joked again. Corlys' demeanor shifted, and he leaned back on the sofa. "He is a terrorist," he said bluntly, and the atmosphere slowly turned dull. "Is this about the PETA Organization again? He's a soft hearted boy," she reasoned and the man shook his head, placing a yellow file on the coffee table.

She quickly placed the teacup beside her - hands shaking as she reached for the file. "The Royal Mint of Spain: Currently Occupied by Terrorists." the headline read out, a picture of her son in the bubble beside the drawing. Her lips shudder, fingers touching the picture.

How long has it been since she's last seen a photograph of her son? Those chubby cheeks still remained, but his eyes were down-set and his eye-bags were more prominent. "This is not real, whatever game you're playing Inspector Corlys - it's not funny. Especially now that election season is moving closer." her voice turned stoic.

"I am afraid that it is not a game - The Government of Spain is losing money in their attempts to quell this act of terrorism. One of the accused is your son, and you will help us if you want to win the reelection." he threatened, placing the deal more bluntly - aware of how politicians could turn and twist narratives. "I can just deny his existence, there are no records that the boy is mine." Alicent's face suddenly turned cold.

Corlys resisted the urge to roll his eyes - the Congresswoman's poker face was as stupid as her platforms. "You and I both know that you're not going to do that. Parents love their children more than anything, even when they are the shackles that bind us." he stated, taking a nonchalant sip of his chamomile tea. Alicent breathes a sigh of relief, partly afraid of what they'd ask her to do next.

"How am I going to help you? In Aegon's eyes, I'm good as dead." she scoffed, unable to entertain the notion that her children still loved her. She didn't deserve their love, neither their time. "What year did you leave Spain, congresswoman?" Corlys inquired and her teeth burrowed into her lower lip. "Twenty-one years ago," she answered.

"Your son was 2-3?"

"4 or 6. I'm not sure," she replied - in a tone that told her that she still loved her children. "A little too young, but still old enough to realize that you abandoned him." he further explains, taking something out of a separate folder. He places it on the coffee table. In all bold letters, she could barely make out the outline of her son's name.

MY MOTHER, MY HERO By Aegon Matthew Targaryen

Her eyes trailed up - until she was staring deep inside of the Old Snake's eyes. She'll do everything it takes to save her son, even risk her political career.

(EIGHT HOURS INTO THE HEIST.)

"Is he going to be alright?" Rhaenyra couldn't help but inquire. She's only been around her brother as much as there were fingers in her hands, but she's grown to love him. She loves him the same way that a woman loves her son. The thought of him possibly dying - it didn't sit well with her. "There's a bit of bleeding, but Mysaria had it fixed." Daemon responded, and his niece raised an eyebrow.

"I thought we weren't allowed to use real names?" she placed a hand on his collar, straightening his zipper with rehearsed ease. "Force of habit," he shrugged while freeing himself from her grasps. It was impossible to stay sated around his niece - around a beautiful girl. When she came into his life - he rebuked her. He couldn't understand why his older brother would adopt his ex-wife's daughter.

Aemma cheated on him with a barber - now after she's died of Cancer. Viserys still loves her. Loves her more than he loves Daemon. He couldn't stand the girl, that's why he left for college - he'd rather live in another country than watch his brother play house.

"Does the Professor know that his son is bleeding?" Rhaenyra asked, staring into the camera - knowing that her father was watching from behind it. "He doesn't need to know, worst comes to worst, we'll need better medical care." Daemon took a sip of his cappuccino. "Does that mean that he's stopped bleeding?" she frowned and he shook his head. "Stop babying him, it's a fucking scratch." he placed the mug loudly on the ceramic table - carefully retreating into the halls before anything else happened between them.

Daemon prepared another cup of instant coffee, surprised to see Aemond cleaning his bandaged wound. "What are you doing?" his nephew sanitized the skin around the gash, Daemon takes a mammoth stride towards the window - watching the police prepare their camp around the Royal Mint. "Just because we're on the clock, doesn't mean that there isn't time for slacking off." he responded.

Turning to look at his nephew - whose attention was plastered back into that bleeding piece of skin. "I hope you don't mind, but I haven't told Volantis about this little injury yet." he pointed at the young boy and Aemond frowned. "Why would she need to know?" he acted oblivious, adding more fuel to Daemon's anger.

"You're clearly together," he gritted his teeth - voice full of envy. It was unfair! He fucked the girl first, but his nephew was reaping late game rewards. "We're not." Aemond responded bluntly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. "Explain to me why there's always a moaning contest in her room, then?" Daemon scoffed. "Is she always stretching? Watching a horror movie perhaps?" Daemon antagonized, watching his nephew throw a piece of cloth angrily.

"I don't care if she's learning pilates or watching fucking Annabelle. I just want to get my money and get out of here." Aemond could feel his patience running thin. "You wouldn't mind then, if I made her my wife?" Daemon smiled mischievously. Aemond was just about to reply, but Aegon suddenly barges inside the room.

"You have to look at what's happening outside. It's urgent!" the boy's panicked voice caught their attention. "What is it?" Aemond groaned - aware that he was unable to walk due to his injury. "Mother." Aegon whispered, and the room's atmosphere dulled.

(TWENTY-TWO YEARS BEFORE D-DAY.)

Alicent couldn't stand staring at her children. They'd cry all the time - and she couldn't stand their constant need for her attention. "Aemond please stop crying, I don't know what to do." she cried, holding her son close to her chest.

It was going to be four hours before her husband returned, and by then, he was going to be too tired to take care of children. It was unfortunate because he was the only one who knew what to do. Viserys was the only one responsible enough to maintain a home.

"He's probably hungry," Aegon peeked through the dark living-room. Alicent could feel more tears flow out of her irises. Her son needed milk, and she was too stupid to even think about that. "Yeah, yeah. Uhh Aegon can you please call Peepaw for me. I-I need help." she stuttered - ashamed of her stupidity.

---

"You shouldn't have called me at this time, I had a sermon today." Otto scolded his daughter, removing his coat and placing it on the rack beside the door. "I didn't know what to do - the kids haven't stopped crying since their father left." she sobbed.

"I always told you that having children this young was a mistake. Imagine, you're only eighteen and you already have two-children? It is an abomination, Alicent." her father scolded, and she could only bow her head in the face of his criticism. She severely needed his help.

He reached for Aemond who was fussing in Alicent's arms. "I didn't have a choice, you told me that I'd go to hell if I didn't marry Viserys." she grimaced, and his dark glare returns. "Premarital Sex, Alicent. I couldn't allow you to sin." he gritted his teeth. His face softened, seeing the familiar figure of his favorite grandchild. "Aegon," he smiled before turning to his daughter.

"Go and rest, I will handle everything."

@fan-goddess @marvelescvpe @theshatteredideal @acollectionofcells1 @mxacegrey @bellstwd @nyctophilic0vitnir @icarusgloom @pearlstiare @themotherofblood @immyowndefender @ammo23 @ladywin17

[aemonds-princeregent]

Masterlist

All my works can be found here.

Aemond Targaryen

Dark! Aemond x reader

Warnings: Jealousy, possessiveness, NSFW, +18

Dark! Aemond x wife! reader

Warnings: Jealuosy, Possessiveness, Controlling behaviour, NSFW, +18

Aemond x wife! reader

Comfort, Angst

Mean! Aemond x Chubby! Wife (Ilirigho)

Warnings: Angst, Pregnancy, Smut, NSFW, +18

Mean! Aemond x Chubby! Martell! Wife (Elilla)

Warnings: Inacurate hotd, Possessiveness, Jealousy, P in V, +18

Aegon II Targaryen

Aegon x wife! reader

Warnings: Breastfeeding, a little voyeurism, NSFW, +18

Aegon x wife! reader

Comfort, fluff, angst

Aegon x wife! reader - Breathe

preface

part 1 (Warnings: Necrophilia)

part 2 (Warnings: Necrophilia)

part 3 (Warnings: Necrophilia, blood)

Aegon x septa! reader

part 1

Modern! Aegon x Sister! Reader (Blood in the water)

Warnings: Incest, Blood, P in V sex, NSFW, +18

Aegon II x Rhaenyra (Buqagon, Jorrāelagon) - Part 1

Warnings: AU (Aegon is not married to Helaena and Rhaenyra is not married to Daemon, inacurate hotd), Eventual smut, +18.

Modern! Aegon x Reader

Warnings: Toxic relationship, alcohol consumption, jealousy, angst, comfort, fluff

Psycho! Aegon x Psycho! Reader (Honey Blood)

Warnings: Modern AU, Toxic relationship, psycho behaviour of both aegon and reader, smut, virginity loss, blood kink, period sex, +18

Part 1: Honey Blood

Part 2: Honey Blood (Aegon’s POV)

Part 3: To indulge

Young Gaius Julius Caesar

Young Gaius Julius Caesar x Reader (Eros)

Warnings: Innacurate history, Injury, Blood, P in V sex, +18

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

Not Wanted part 3

 

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x chubby fem reader  

Summary: What a surprise it was to run into Daemon in this tavern.  

Trigger warning: English is not my mother tongue, I am sorry if mistakes are going through my correction, I will correct them.

Author’s note: Y/s/n = Your servant name  

Y/f/n = your father name  

 

---  

 

 

There he was, siting. You were face to face. Your heart throbbed, your blood pouring into your whole body. Your breath seemed to be trapped in your lungs and throat. Daemon was looking at you with a sweet smirk on his lips. He could see your reaction, but he couldn’t see your internal reaction.  

 

Inside you, your mind ran in all directions, you never could have imagined seeing it, here, in this tavern, even less during the day. What was he doing there? You were trying to stay calm, keep your breath down.  

 

He was the first to answer  

 

 

"Keep my mouth?"  

 

 

The tone of his voice was not harsh or angry, but rather amused. His voice seemed hypnotized to you, the environment around you no longer existed. Until this bubble burst at your realization. But what happens to me?  

 

"Yes, it is not very courteous to speak like that."  

"It is not a proper place for a lady, especially without a knight on her side." He smirk, but the tone of her voice was most serious.  

 

 

He hit the nail  

"I am not alone."  

 

 

He looked at your maid, his smirk grown bigger, a small laugh, out of his mouth, he shook his head gently spanking his long silver hair.  

"A servant will not serve you against bandits. Unless you are an expert in handling fabrics and needles."  

 

Even if you were to contradict him, he was right, she would be as helpless as you in the event of a bandit attack. You sighed softly, but did not lower your eyes.  

 

 

All of a sudden, you were worried if your dad found out you were sneaking out, although for your dad you were a jerk, disobeying him was going to lead to the beating you didn’t want to imagine. You shivered despite the heat of the tavern.  

"Will you bring it back?" 

 

Daemon watched your body language, your pupils widen, the fact that you curl slightly. You looked like an animal who was hunter and in front of an imminent and not visible danger. Time seemed to have become slow, so slow that it seemed to have stopped.  

"No, I see no interest, or benefit."  

 

Daemon was serious, his voice more posed and less playful, he smiled more mockingly. You let go of the breath you were holding, the tension of your whole body dissipated, you felt relieved although a slight fear, although reduced, remained in the depths of your mind.  

 

 

Your servant could see the tension that had settled, slowly fades, to help, she made the decision to change conversation and focus on you and ordering your meal.  

"Oh that’s right... "  

 

You think for a few seconds asking for a dish that contained what you enjoyed eating and that could please your servant, throwing a glance at her, to confirm if she was willing to eat it. She nodded. You commanded for two people, be it for food and drink. 

 

When the employer went away with your order, a silence settled at the table, this silence was only a silence of voices, because music came from the opposite side of the tavern. When you looked in the direction where the music was coming from, you could see Daemon, who was wearing the hood of his cape on his head, preventing the people behind him from seeing his silver hair, you were taken aback, he was alone in this tavern, at least seemed to be alone. For a prince, you thought that he would at least be accompanied by a knight not necessarily in bodyguard but at least in reinforcement if the prince was attacked. Perhaps his reinforcements were in the tavern also incognito. Although it seemed more likely that the prince came alone, hence the placement of his hood on his head.  

 

You didn’t want to keep your eyes on him to avoid being seen as an insistent person or one of the young women who is desperately looking for a man. So yes you found him more than charming, but no you did not want to pass for crazy.  

 

In the distance, from the oak counter, an employee differs from the one who took your order, walked zigzagging between the tables, arriving at yours. He brought a jug and a goblet in a gesture, he laid it all before Daemon. When the prince poured the contents of the jug you could see wine coming out, raising an eyebrow you could contain your reflection.  

 

Daemon looked at you and smiled in the corner, almost amused by your reflection. He let out a small mocking laugh. If the prince seemed to take your words well, your servant had become tense, giving you alert looks, trying to make you understand that you had to apologize for your words. You cast an inquiring glance at her, you did not see the evil in your words, a small battle of glance began, you were both winning and losing, for not apologizing, she did it in your place.  

"Wine that looks like dog urine, but not enough to drink?" 

"I am sorry, my prince, for my mistress’s behavior and word." She bowed her head in respect.  

 

"You can just as well shout." You looked harshly at your servant, your whispered words directed at her." Don’t forget that we can’t get caught."  

It is true that you had been dry and direct, but you refused to be punished on your return and even more so that your return would be faster if one of the knights of your house were in this tavern and recognized you. You were never harsh towards your servant, she was the closest person to a friend than anyone else in your home. You’ll talk to him later.  

 

"Oh yes... the rumors." It was Daemon.  

 

"What rumors?" His words questioned you.  

"The ones that say you’d be mistreated by your alcoholic father."  

Daemon had hit home. You avoided wincing at his words. Your father was finally more famous than you could have imagined, if even a Targaryen had heard the rumors.  

 

The prince drank a sip of his wine before continuing to speak.  

"An alcoholic asshole, I’m surprised to see you here, not under his yoke."  

 

"If I don’t start living now, I’ll never do it. Not once marry the man he chooses." You sigh.  

 

This interested Daemon, a lady tired of being the kind second child, envious of freedom. Oh how much could he understand you, much more than anyone else, but unlike you, the fact that he was a man prevented him from getting in trouble, you could live as a woman.  

Your servant was watching what was happening, nervous, hoping that once the dishes were brought, you would eat before leaving for the camp before the end of the game of the day. It was without counting on Daemon’s growing interest in you and your desire to escape.  

 

If at the arrival of the dishes, the discussion ended as desired Y/s/n the continuation was quite different.  

Daemon came out of the tavern first, long before you finished eating, he had not said a word, you were disappointed, but did not dare to say anything. At the end of your meal, you took out a small purse where some gold and silver coins were stored and you paid.  

 

Coming out of the tavern in your turn, the sun had slightly dazzled you, you took a few seconds before your eyes adapt to the brightness.  

The street was crowded with people, Y/s/n wrapped his arm around the hold so as not to lose you. You walked towards the main street, taking the time to look at the clothes of the people, the dresses were not in the style of your region, they were much simpler, the pomp of the nobles, gave them quite a charm. What the sun’s rays seemed to bring out. 

During a blockade in the street, where several people seemed to fight for something and had ended up blocking the street because of the crowd of spectators observing the situation. In the distance you could hear the cries of the people, then suddenly the cries were less until a crowd movement. Your heart and your breath began to accelerate. The cries had given way to a fight that was becoming widespread. The tinsel of armor was heard in less than two minutes. As you were about to be hit by a city guard, someone grabbed you by your free arm, made you step back, and stumbled on your steps.  

 

A hand came over your mouth, you looked around as much as you could. The back of your head was against a person’s chest/shoulder, you could feel the movement of the person’s breath, even feel the person’s breath against your cheek. Your gaze crossed Y/s/n, his gaze reflected his fear and growing panic. You could feel the blood pulsating in your temples, to the frenetic rhythm of your heart, a cold sweat running along your back.  

 

By trying to calm down, you could focus on the smell of the person holding you. It was a mixture of leather, grass from a bath, and burning coal, as well as a small smell of wine when the man began to speak your ear.  

 

 

"A young woman inclined to freedom, but not to her own safety."  

You recognized that voice, though you only heard it a few times. That voice... heard less than an hour before. A voice you wanted him to continue to speak to you. Some silver streak only confirmed your intuition. He released your mouth when he felt you relax.  

"Prince Daemon? ..."  

 

You turned in his direction, surprised, your pride shouted at you to answer him in a scathing way, but your spirit told you to be posed, while your heart howled incoherent things.  

"Fair lady, this city can be dangerous, not as dangerous as King’s Lading but feel no doubt much more than your city." 

 

But he was not wrong, this crowd movement, was nothing compared to an attack of bandits. Whatever you were in the middle of the day, in a street full of people, where the guards reacted quickly, rare were the attacks of bandits in such conditions.  

"Thank you... for stopping us from being pushed by the guards." You had to admit, you’d rather be shot at the prince than pushed by guards.  

 

Daemon smiles in the corner, seeing you thank him, your look avoiding him. He had interviewed your eyes in the tavern, and now that you were avoiding him, he had made it his mission to make you look at him.  

 

 

 

"Have you visited the whole city?"  

"No..." You didn’t have time to answer him.  

"No, we must return to the encampment as soon as possible, before Lord Y/f/n returns, and discovers that we are not present."  

 

 

Your servant had cut you off, you were irritating, you knew your father, with the day of the game, he would come home late at night and completely drunk, which means that he would not notice, your absence, even Sir Percival, was not at your bedside, Your father had ordered him to stay with him, thinking that you would stay in your tent. Sir Percival would not see your disappearance until your father was asleep in his tent.  

 

Daemon looked at your servant, she bored her to the highest point. Her black eyes, made her shut up and looked towards the ground. If she was familiar with your kindness, she would not suffer the wrath of a prince, a Targaryen prince in addition. 

Your side of the was measuring the pros and cons, to know if you stayed to go around the city with the prince, if he agreed, or you would come back now and reduce your chances of future boredom, due to your little escapade.  

 

 

For:  

"You discovered the city and were not locked up in your tent."  

-Chances of spending the afternoon with Daemon.  

-If you were with him, the opportunity to ask him questions.  

"If the prince liked you, it would reduce the chances of your father correcting you."  

 

 

Against:  

"Your father’s reaction if he finds you missing."  

-Be in your tent until the games are over.  

-To be forced to marry a horrible stranger... Oh yes it is true, it was already the case, feel your exit quietly.  

-Let your father learn of your sneaking out with Daemon, who already has his reputation and a nickname that was given to him in the victory of 'Rogue Prince'  

 

 

Whether for or against, they were at the same numbers, in any case those you had in mind at that time.  

Might as well live fully, no? But in safety. If Daemon asked you to visit the city by his side, you agreed. But if you were alone with Y/s/n, you would go back with her to the camp, putting an end to this escapade.  

 

 

"So? Have you visited the city?"  

"Not all of it, just the big streets."  

"Are there places you would like to visit? Like the alleys where jugglers play or street theatre?"  

"It sounds interesting, only... I wouldn’t mind a guide." You were hoping he understood your undertone and agreed to go with you.  

"I happen to know the perfect guide." He smirk.  

"Oh, who is he?"  

"Me."  

 

Your heart which had calmed down again to beat ka chamade, at the moment you thought you had misunderstood, that your imagination had played a trick on you, but by looking at him, in an interrogation way, his mocking smile. He offered you to be your guide, your blood poured into your body, a heat invaded it. You smiled softly and looked Y/s/n which was on the edge of panic. If you could calm her down, she would accompany you, she would even become a witness if anything should happen and turn against you.  

 

With a glance from you, encouraging, she agreed to follow you, you will talk about it later, once enter your tent and without witnesses.  

 

 

---  

 

 

The sky was overcrowded with heavy clouds, the wind had risen slightly, a smell of rain was beginning to spread in the air.  

 

In the city, only the people living there and not merchant had taken refuge in their cottages, the (entertainers) continued to entertain the passers-by, the different musics play by the small troupes of artists animated each street and alleys. In one of the alleys, a play was played. This one traced with "certainty" the loves and counted with confidence the number of conquest of the Lord Baratheon.  

 

 

"Certainty?... There must be only half the bastards begotten."  

 

 

Daemon had spoken in your ear, the sound of his voice and his breath against your cheek and neck, gave you shivers in the back, not of horror but earlier of anticipation.  

 

 

"Are Lord Baratheon’s out-of-wedlock adventures so well known?" You were watching Daemon surprise and disillusionment.  

"For the common people and some nobles apparently." Daemon shrugged.  

 

 

Applause came out of your discussion. The audience applauds the final scene where Lord Baratheon, at least his actor, had collapsed on the alcoholic floor under the gaze of his mistresses. 

“If it was one of the best shows in the city, I can’t imagine the others.” Daemon chuckled and shook his head.  

"Maybe the other theatres offer shows more to your liking?"  

“I highly doubt it.”  

"Why not try? At least you won’t have any regrets."  

 

 

Daemon shook his head again, if he were not intrigued by you, he would have refused. But at the thought of spending more time with you. He was ready to undergo the endless staging that included the theatres of the city, fortunately for him, almost all were filled by the people and were inaccessible.  

 

Daemon had left his hood on his head so as not to be recognized. You were often at the back of the crowd, avoiding contact with other spectators. Y/s/n was nervous and on high alert, all your opposite. You forgot your troubles, live the present moment.  

 

 

---  

 

 

It is only when the sun sets that you return to the camp. Once inside, Daemon removed his hood releasing his silver hair, the sun gave golden hues to his hair. You watched him from the corner of your eye, an almost mystical charm emanated from him.  

 

Servants and knights, staying in the camp looked in your direction, many were people who did not pay attention, too busy with their own concerns. Others wondered why the prince came back with you. (Mainly the people of small noble houses of the lords wanted to marry their sons) 

At the time you didn’t care, until you left the prince, your little bubble, deflated without bursting. For when they entered your tent, some of your servants present, looked at you surprised and panicked, they had searched throughout the camp without finding you and had feared that you had fled or worse had been kidnapped. If you had come home later, by nightfall they should have warned your father of your disappearance. You were sorry to have frightened them and told them, but deep down, you did not regret anything, this simple moment with Prince Targaryen you allowed to change your mind, to see a side of life that you did not know, you finally felt free. Free of this tent, free of your castle, free of your father and your family’s judgments. You had finally lived part of your life.  

 

 

---  

 

 

On his return your father had not even seen your change in your behavior, your look in the wave, how you only half listened to what he told you while being drunk. You even smiled a little, something strange coming from you, because you usually remained closed on you when he was there. You were on your little cloud, remembering the reflections of light in Daemon’s hair, or the smell that emanated from him when you were sitting next to him. To his giggling when he mocked a stage and actors at shows. To his breath against your skin when he pulled you out of the crowd. Even if it was only one exit, the prince had managed to capture your mind much more than you could have imagined.  

 

---  

 

 

The next morning, you had prepared, not for another getaway but for the new games of the day, the Béhourd tournament was about to begin and your father wanted you to be there to show you to a lord. You were bubbling with resentment that you were riding like a fairground beast. Your father left at first, letting you grind your teeth.  

 

As you left your tent, your gaze met that of a certain prince. He walked in the direction of the games, when he turned his head in my direction of the heavy sound of the movement of the fabrics which composed the entrance of your tent.  

When Daemon saw you, he smiled in the corner, not with mockery but because it was pleasant for him to see you. In no time you walked side by side, your servant followed you, Ser Percival followed you by his side, his gaze was suspicious, you spoke so easily with the prince, that it was not normal for two people who had just met.  

 

Along the way towards the duel field, your conversation with Daemon continued, you smiled much more than usual, even he smiled at you gently and not with his mocking smile. All along the way, you stayed too close, more than courtesy allowed. When you split up, Daemon took your hand and put a chaste fuck in it. You felt a heat rising in you, the same heat you had felt the day before, not of embarrassment (of Shame), but a pleasant warmth, of anticipation of the present moment.  

 

 

“Good game, my lady.”  

“Good game, Prince Daemon.”  

 

Ser Percival was about to faint, he knew very well the rumors about the prince who was more than once named Rogue Prince, in discussions between knights of different noble houses.  

He wondered about the events of the day before, he was not at your side and was afraid of what might have happened. He hoped the prince would not do this just to pass the time or to have a new nobleman to add to his conquests for the abandoned once tired of her.  

 

 

---  

 

 

The duels took place in the middle of the city, Lord Baratheon wanted everyone to be able to observe the duels, several of his own knights were going to fight and he wanted the greatest number to watch their victories.  

 

People had settled on the floors of the houses to look, people could attend the fight although they were not in contact with the nobles, the most guard arena was placed in the center of the city, large bleachers had been erected as well as barriers, to limit access to the place.  

 

As for the archery tournament, you were at your closest, your father sitting several rows behind you, but he had sat at the side of a lord, at the pace, not very neat. Y/s/s was always to be rated, but a young man, younger than the prince, with a dubious smell sat on your other side. He was more passionate about his wine cup and fighting than the people around him. If you were about to vomit, another person was bubbling.  

 

Daemon was seated in the gallery in front of yours, his hard and ardent gaze towards you, he could see how hard you were trying to get away from the lousy one who was shouting in the direction of the fights overthrow of his wine all around him. The fights bore Daemon, but what he saw in the stands opposite him was bubbling, your father a few rows above you, looked like a drunken and unscrupulous merchant. The screaming spectators, the clash of armor and weapons, did nothing to him, he heard nothing, just his blood bubbling in his temples.  

 

 

'My prince? ...' He was a servant, carrying a pitcher of wine.  

“What?” It wasn’t time to bother him.  

'Do you want more wine?' The servant, who had startled at the sound of Daemon’s voice, trembled.  

“No.”  

 

 

Daemon was not in the mood to drink wine, nor to talk to anyone. As soon as this tournament of Béhourd was finished, it would go in your direction. He was preparing a way out, to get you out of the mess your father decided to put you through.  

 

 

---  

 

 

When the sun reached its zenith, the game was over, you felt the wine you had not drunk, your dress was stained and this stranger followed you out of the bleachers. He made you uncomfortable, you looked around, behind you, your father was talking to the same lord at the beginning of the day. Until from the corner of your eye you saw silver hair moving in your direction. This silver hair moved very quickly, creating a crowd movement. In less than two minutes, Daemon was standing in front of you. He stood straight, a menacing look towards the gougea who was next to you.  

 

 

“My lady seem to be disturbed by some ‘dirty’ boy?” 

Daemon’s gaze towards the young man was murderous, he needed more than flames out of his mouth to make him look like a dragon. Ser Percival stood between you.  

“You’d better get away from Ser.” The tone of his voice became increasingly threatening.  

Y/s/n little reassured squeezed your arm.  

“It’s nothing, Percival.”   

The knight turned to look uncertain.  

'The prince must have seen what it is to pass in the stands and the state of my dress.' You smiled softly to try to calm the situation.  

“What’s going on?” Your father had just arrived and was looking at you with boredom.  

“Go back to your tent to change, have you seen how you present yourself in the presence of a prince?”  

“If that bastard hadn’t splashed his wine!”  

“This bastard is her fiancé!” The lord, father of the gougea, was caught in his pride.  

This sentence, dropped a stone on you, you quickly looked at your father, who although drunk had a hard look, you then looked at himself as a “fiancé” that even several poor had more pace, a wind of dread had just crossed you, it is the panicked look, You looked at the prince, lost.  

Daemon saw him with your change of expression and the positioning of your back, which reminded him of that of a condemned man. He finds himself bubbling even more rage. Oh he was going to make the lord regret the idea of making you marry his son, your father was going to regret how he treated you.  

Because for Daemon, you were his and his alone. 

[floatyflowers]

𑁍Masterlist𑁍

Oshi No Ko

Sister Complex Masterlist

Hunter x Hunter

Father! Kurapika

Jujutsu Kaisan

Father! Satoru Gojo

Another Father! Satoru Gojo

Death Note

Father! Light Yagami

Lotr/The hobbit

Grandfather! Thranduil

Father! Legolas

Dark Sauron

Dc

Father Morpheus(The Sandman)

The Boys

Father! Homelander Part 2

Hannibal

Father Hannibal Lecter

Dark! Hannibal Lecter, and John Wick x Young Mother! Reader Part 2

Stranger Things

Husband! 001 (Vecna)

Jason Carver P2

Father! 001

House of the dragon

Husband! Daemon Targaryen Part 2

The Adopted Princess Masterlist

First Husband Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Second Husband Aegon Targaryen

Husband! Larys Strong

Fairest of Them All | Aegon II, Aemond, and Jacaerys x Reader

Dark Platonic Mother!Rhaenyra Targaryen x Daughter Reader

Dark Platonic Father Aegon II x Reader

Dark Platonic Father Maegor The Cruel x Reader

Dark Platonic Father Aegon The Conqueror x Reader

Dark Platonic Father Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Dark Platonic Father Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Dark Father Aegon II x Mother! Reader x Son! Aegon III

Dark Platonic Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader x Dark Platonic Alicent Hightower

Dark Platonic Mothers! HOTD/GOT (Cersei, Alicent, Sansa, and Rhaenyra) x Reader

Dark! Jaehaerys Targaryen x Maegor's Daughter! Reader

Dark Male! Rhaenyra Targaryen x Cousin Reader Part 2

Below the Surface| Dark! HOTD various x Reincarnated Reader

Dark Male! Daenerys Targaryen x Baratheon! Reader Part 2

Dark! Grown-up Lucerys Valeryon x Twin!Reader

Dark Male! Alicent Hightower x reader

Percy Jackson x House Of The Dragon x Reader Crossover.

Mythology

Dark Greek Gods (Apollo, Hermes, and Ares) x Reader

Dark! Eros x Reader x Dark! Anteros

Dark! Platonic Father Apollo x Reader

Dark! Achilles and Patroclus x Reader (Poly)

Wednesday

Dark! Male! Wednesday Addams

Percy Jackson

Dark Platonic Camp Half-Blood x Reader x Dark Platonic Greek Gods Part2

Eros' Daughter Fanfic Masterlist

Percy Jackson x House Of The Dragon x Reader Crossover.

Dark! Hades x Demigod! Reader

Chronicles of Narnia

Male! Queen Jadis 'The White Witch'

The Last Of Us

Dark Platonic Father! Joel Miller

Dark Joel Miller x Married! Reader

Star Wars Universe

Dark Platonic! Din Djarin x Reader

Historical Figures

Dark! Platonic Father! Saladin x Reader x Dark! Baldwin IV

Dark! Ancient Rulers (Ramesses II and Alexander the Great) x Reader

Dark Platonic Alexander the Great x illegitimate! Daughter

Dark Husband! Alexander The Great x Reader

Dark Platonic! Father Henry VIII x reader

Dark! Napoleon Bonaparte x Reader

Back to the past| Dark! Tutankhamun x Modern! Reader

Dark! Male Catherine of Aragon and Male Anne Boleyn x Queen Reader

Avatar the Last Airbender

Dark! Zuko x Fragile! Reader

The second wife| Dark! Ozai x Wife! Reader x Platonic Dark! Zuko and Azula

Dark Platonic! Fire Nation Royal Family x Non-bender Reader Part 2

Dark Ozai x Iroh's betrothed! Reader

Dark! Fire Nation Royal Family x Bloodbender Reader

Dark! Male Azula x Reader

Lolita

Male! Dolores Haze x Reader

Dark Manhwa/manga characters

Dark! Husbands (Erno Etham, and Camille Lafayette) x reader

Dark! Anime DILFS x reader

Harry Potter

Dark! Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff! Reader

Dark! Sirius Black x Reader

Bram Stoker's Dracula

Dark Platonic! Father Dracula x Reader x Dracula's Brides

Interview with the vampire

Dark!Platonic/Romantic Lestat de Lioncourt

Barbie

Dark Platonic Adoptive! Parents Barbie And Ken x Reader

Original Characters

Dark Platonic! Rich Father x Reader

Dark Platonic! Father Merman x Human! Reader

Dark Platonic! Alien Father x Toddler! Human Reader

Dark Platonic! Fathers as Zodiac Signs x Reader

Dark Husbands! Vampire, Merman, and Faerie x Human! Reader

Dark! Platonic Father and Mother Faerie x Human! Reader

Dark! Male Homewrecker x Reader (Late 1800's era)

Dark! Platonic Gym Father x Chubby! Reader

Dark! Human Apps (Duolingo, Tumblr, and Wattpad) x Reader

One Piece

Dark Platonic! Father Zoro x Reader

Migi to Dali

Dark! Migi and Dali x Reader

Disney

Dark Platonic Father Tarzan x Reader

AI accounts:

Character AI List| Character Link List

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

Hi, sorry for my English, it's not my language and I'm using Google translator, I hope it's enough for you to understand me. I really like your writing and I had an idea that I think if you wrote it would make it good, where Viserys did not marry Alicent but Laena, but they never had children so Daemon really took over as heir to viserys on the condition that he would marry Rhaenyra, they marry and Jace and luke are Daemon's children. Rhaenyra is pregnant with Joffrey and to celebrate Viserys plans a great banquet that will last days and all the lords are invited. At the party Daemon meets Lord Tyrell's daughter and falls deeply in love with her and takes her as his second wife, Rhaenyra is not satisfied, but does nothing about it. As married times go by, Daemon loves the reader much more and favours her children, and Rhaenyra is jealous

He's sweet flower

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Fem Chubby Tyrell! reader

Author’s note: hello, don’t worry, Google translation does a good job, oh thank you, it touches me a lot that you appreciate. Usually I don’t write by specifying the reader in a specific noble house but by writing the reader in Tyrell, I don’t specify the origin of her mother so that she can come from where you want. Hope you like it. Feel free to leave your opinion on how your request was written, anonymously or not, I just really enjoyed writing for your request.

Author’s Note 2: I based myself on the age gap between Jace, Luke and Joffrey of the books (thanks Wiki) and by writing «young woman» I aim big, from early twenties to early thirties.

 trigger warning: English is also not my mother tongue, so i'm sorry if there is mistakes.

The sun was setting over the gardens of Highgarden, summer was just beginning, the ambient heat was comforting, the flowers covered most of the soils, trees and shrubs of the gardens. The spring months had been very grey and rainy, several trees had large fruits full of water, several servants were responsible for the gathering, they went to work all summer long so that the kitchens could serve them fresh or keep them by turning them into jam or by naturally drying them. They were not the only ones working in the castle. Young squires trained in the animate me with various weapons, whether it be the sword, the fighting axe, the mass or the bow, while others trained to ride a horse, some having never climbed to the screens. But they all worked far more than usual.

The day had been pleasant a part of the Tyrell family was staying in one of the largest gardens, your uncle Lord Matthos Tyrell successor of the house, accompanied by your father were chatting under a large umbrella, composed of wood, linen fabrics and some pieces of warm colors. Lord Tyrell’s wife and your mother sat beside them, watching the younger members of the family played and heckled while you sat under one of the trees, reading, while your young cousin Harlan learned his lessons.

Matthos was talking with your father about the royal invitation, it must have been to announce some important things for sending a messenger. For a month in the windbreaks, a great storm broke over the region of Reach, the violent wind shook the branches of the trees, the younger ones folded under the breath, the beasts had to have hurried into their stables and henhouse. Luckily, the rivers had not yet come out of their beds, fortunately for the villages nearby.

In this storm, a herald accompanied by two knights rode to Highgarden, the sound of the clogs in the mud was barely audible, the breaking rain masked largely the surrounding sounds. The glimmers emanating from the castle windows were barely visible in the rain, which like a beacon guiding the messenger and his escort. At the time of passing the pat of the front door the three people were soaked to the bones, the servants had directly welcomed them and taken them to one of the large rooms of the castle, Lord Matthos Tyrell had joined them to discuss.

This is how your uncle spoke to your father about a scroll in his hands, protecting it from the sun.

“Viserys seems to get crazier and crazier with time.” Matthos sighed.

“Who would not, in his situation many would not have held.”

“Marry your own daughter to your brother? Celebrate future births?”

“The Targaryen are different, he had to consolidate his grip on the throne.”

“According to the Hightowers, Viserys accepted the marriage of Rhaenyra and Daemon, although the council is against it.” Matthos giggled for a moment. “He could have refused.”

Your father sighed, he understood that his brother reacted like this, the iron throne was very coveted, Viserys of his first union with Queen Aemma had not had a son, her death had mourned more than the Targaryen, She was appreciated and seemed to radiate during her presences. The fact that the king remarried was not a surprise, although the age of the very young bride was much talked about. At first, the lack of birth reassured the nobles and the people that Lady Laena’s age was inappropriate for marriage. In the coming years, this lack of birth slowly began to worry, perhaps the young queen could not give birth. Murmurs and rumours then began their way into the kingdom. What would happen when Viserys died? Who would take the throne? The houses that had passed their allegiances could equally break it, it risked imploding the kingdom. Rhaenyra, as the only child of the king, could assert his birthright on the throne, but none of the great Lords and the people were ready for a queen to rule the kingdom. Daemon as a brother of the king, was the direct heir, but having a bad reputation among the people and especially the nobles, was a complex choice. The union of Daemon and Rhaenyra a few years ago was intended to strengthen their «legitimacy» to the throne. Although many noble houses did not like it, the people were wary, for this marriage did not guarantee a long peace full of prosperity.

"Brother, why don’t you go to these festivities?"

“I have to deal with the requests from the villages, don’t forget, I don’t have time to go and celebrate.”

“I would take the applications directly, you could take the opportunity to find an fiance to my tender niece.”

 

Your father sighed, it was true that you had not yet engaged, it is not that you had no young and not so young men who wanted to court you, it is that for your father, you were still his little daughter, even though you are a young woman. He promised to think about it not wanting to tarnish this sunny day with a heated discussion, even though he knew that Matthos would repeat the question to him several times, until the moment your father snapped.

 

That’s how a week later, a carriage carrying the flower of the Tyrell house, headed for King’s Landing.

It was the first time you traveled to King’s Landing, you were only a child at the death of Queen Aemma, you had kept the blurred memory of your Uncle Matthos and your aunt being gone for several weeks, and that before their return Highgarden had become silent, for a few days. Your nanny had vaguely explained to you that it was customary to mourn for important people whether we knew him or not. It intrigued you, but you quickly forgot about the sadness, wanting to play with the other children present.

At the time of the king’s remarriage, you still remained at the castle, just as you remained for the various festivities that took place at the Red Keep, Highgarden satisfied you, you did not understand why the other ladies and young lady wanted so much to go there. Your nanny had repeatedly explained to you the misadventures that could occur in the capital, how the streets were covered with vermin and dirt. That this was no place for a girl.

Yet when you looked at the landscape through the screened opening, you could see large walls with black and red coats of arms. With difficulty you tried to see how the streets of the city really were, painfully observing colors and movement, you could not fully observe the life teeming around you.

When the carriage stopped, you waited to get out, the heel sounds of the boots echoed in the outer courtyard of the Red Keep.

Servants were the first to greet you, taking your luggage to the rooms that you would occupy during the festivities. A knight with a white beard and well cut came to greet you, explaining that the king being very absorbed by the preparations of the festivities apologized for not coming to welcome you in person.

Your father avoided giving a harsh answer to the knight, and thanked him. The castle never had him again. Perhaps it was due to not being at home or having to be always on guard whether it was for behaviour or words understood in the wrong way.

While your father joined the other lords already present, your mother offered to give your respect to the Queen, which simply meant, to say hello to her and luckily have a little conversation.

 

When you saw Queen Laenna, you were surprised by her look, it is true that you found her very beautiful, but her look was filled with a kind of melancholy, like a bird enclosing in a cage, a golden cage. With your mother you greeted him, exchange a few sentences about your visit, asking how she lived the future festivities. You were lost in her purple look almost erase.

"Is it true that you rode the greatest dragon in the world?"

This question had escaped you, you had heard lords and lady speak of it since Laenna had begun to ride the dragon. His words come out of your mouth, without thinking about all the protocols that reigned in the Red Keep.

To your question a kind of spark lit up the queen’s gaze.

« It’s true, even though I haven’t been able to do it for a few years.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, it must be extraordinary.”

“Much more.”

When you left your interview with Laenna, your mother scolded you for a few moments, it was not a good idea to speak so openly to the queen without her consent. You have a few seconds to apologize before continuing your way through the corridors of the Red Keep.

 

To say that the future festivities related to Princess Rhaenyra’s pregnancy were great was an understatement. During the day everything seemed calm, several lords and lady were chatting in the corridors and gardens of the castle, but on the first night of the banquet, calm gave way to fun, alcohol and food.

 

In the corridors of the castle several jugglers entertained the guests who waited before their entrances in the huge banquet hall. In the gardens, fire-eaters were getting ready, as was the band of musicians who accompanied them. 

At the festivities they had attended, such a show were not common. And it was only the first day. That night, the houses present were to present their respect and congratulations to future parents, while wearing the colors of his own home.

The entrance was generally spanned starting with the noblest houses, the vassal houses followed them, with a few exceptions.

“Don’t forget what I told you Y/n.”

“I know, mother, don’t speak without permission, don’t look them in the eye because it could be understood as disrespectful.”

“And above all, try to have fun, my dear child.” Your mother took your hand and gently squeezed it.

Your parents had explained to you that it would be interesting for you to get closer to a single young man from one of the houses present, whether they are the noblest houses or not.

If the little shows in the corridors had caught your attention, the size of the banquet hall did just as much. Many guests were already installed, music was audible through conversations. A large chandelier and many fabrics raised the ceiling and spaced far enough so that it did not catch fire.

The Tyrell House entered before the Hightower House, while you were waiting you exchanged a few words with the king’s daughter, Alicent, she seemed nice to you, she was talking about her recent marriage, with a young man from a vassal house in the Vale, This helped to strengthen the ties shaken when Prince Daemon’s first wife died. Although the agreement seemed cordial to you, Alicent was holding her hands, looking at them you could see that she passed her thumbnail on the skin surrounding her other nails.

The royal table, which was located on a platform, allowed them to observe their guests although it was not very high, two markets hardly separated them from the remains of the guests. Your father stood in front of you and your mother. After bowing in front of the people present, your father exchanged a few words with King Viserys. During this time, you watched who was sitting at the table, with your back straight and your head held high, watching from left to right. There was a man wearing the emblem of the king’s hand on his chest, his beard gray, and his look was hard and you seemed calculating, if this man was indeed the father of the sweet Alicent, she seemed to have held more of her dead mother than of her father. The Velaryons were standing on her left side, they seemed to you to be the queen’s parents, for she separated them from the king and spoke to them much more openly and seemed to be out of her good mood. The king in the center of the table seemed to you to be older than the age he had. He was starting to lose hair, his complexion was more greyish, almost a sick complexion. To the left of the king was a young woman barely older than you, her plump belly and silver hair made you understand that it was the king’s daughter, Princess Rhaenyra. You did not dwell on the details, for your gaze was like drawing by the person standing next to you.

A Targaryen, dressed in black was standing in his chair, one hand resting on the table. He didn’t seem so old to you, you looked up from his hand up to his chest, slowly going up to his neck, his jaw, his thin lips to finish on his eyes, by the distance you couldn’t see them clearly, but you imagined eyes of a bright purple. His hair was short and tied to the back of his head. Prince Daemon seemed even more attractive to you than the lady could say in the halls.

His gaze was fixed on something, it took you a few seconds to notice that he was staring at you, in an instant you felt like undressing under his gaze, perhaps it was because of your dress, Tyrell colors with a more plunging neckline than the rest of the women’s outfits present in these places, or was it due to her look that seemed to detail you, from head to toe, while gently licking her upper lip. You felt a gentle warmth mounted in your body as your hands became slightly moist, your mother pulled you out of this exchange by accompanying you to the table where you were installed.

On the first days of the banquets, all were feasting, drinking and eating much more than they should. Lord Baratheon had two nights during which he ended up being escorted by guards, so drunk that he fell trying to walk. Rhaenyra had only appeared at the opening banquet, locking himself in his room for the rest of the festivities.

The feeling of being observed had lasted all along the great meals. To try to forget it, you danced with several young lady, of one Alicent. Some less imposing house lords had asked for a dance that you had accepted. Although more chubby than the average woman present, you did not want to close on yourself, remaining smiling, you had confidence in your natural charm, but a part of you said that the name Tyrell was not at all at interactions, The young lords who had to find a wife did little to spank the fine mouths if their future wives were of noble lineage, you paid little attention, wanting to see the good side of things, you had fun and it was enough for you.

On the fourth night of festivities, you wanted to stay in the gardens, although livening, the places were quieter than the banquet hall. The feeling of being observed was for several hours faded, you were relaxing sitting on one of the benches of the largest garden, some knights were guarding the place, and some couples were watching the shows of the fire-eaters.

You were suddenly taken by a chill, it was not because of the light breeze that was blowing, it was even pleasant to you compared to the heat and dampness of the banquets, no other thing was going on you were sure.

"Lady Y/n. "

A man’s voice made you turn away from your contemplation of the place. You directed your head in the direction of sound, your heart missed a beat.

Prince Daemon was a few meters away from you. He was dressed in black boots and pants, and his jacket had scaly details and thin dark red trim. Her hair was always tied to the back of her head.

“Pr… Prince Daemon.” You were caught off guard.

"Don’t you like these festivities?" A smirk was attached to his lips.

“They’re nice, but I find the gardens more welcoming, so it’s good to be a little quiet.”

“My brother enjoys this kind of activity.”

"And you not my prince?" You could not hold this question.

“I’m less likely to like them, less strutting around.”

A relative silence settled in, not seeing him moved, you wondered why the prince was in the gardens, Daemon watched you, you did not look like the other lady, something in you had held his gaze, Maybe it’s your confidence, maybe it’s your less-dressed clothes. To put an end to this silence and its administration, which was beginning to make you nervous, you asked him the first question that came to your mind.

“Is it true that you fought the crabs for three years? “

You opened your eyes, you forgot the manners, and addressed yourself to the prince. You lowered your head gently, murmuring an excuse. Daemon rie slightly.

"It is true, why such a question, Lady Tyrell?" He leaned his head gently to the side.

“We heard about the war at the Highgarden, but never in detail, one day you were at war and suddenly you had won.”

“I can tell you what happened.”

“With pleasure, my prince, but… you don’t have to.”

Daemon did not answer you, he just approached to sit beside you. For several hours you listened, how the crabs had become dangerous for Westeros, how the years of war had unfolded to end with the king’s decision to come and help them after three years of war. You did not refrain from commenting on the king’s behavior, apologizing afterwards to Daemon, you did not have to speak thus of the crown. He smirk more at your words, but does not correct you, simply continuing to tell you his story.

The first glimmers of daylight appeared on the horizon, Daemon was staying by your side all night, chatting or just watching the shows. His presence although at first a little stressful, was almost comforting, his body letting pass a pleasant heat. The hours seemed like minutes. It is almost against your heart that the day rose, you had to go back to the castle, not to arouse the anxiety that might have your relatives not to see you in the morning.

On the following days and nights, Daemon seemed more present, taking part in a discussion with your father on subjects that escaped you. The prince offered you walks in the castle, offering you books for your future reading, Daemon was even interested in your life in Highgarden, leaving you little time to be really alone. In the rare moments when he was not with you, you had offered to keep company with the queen before Alicent, with whom you had made a gentle friendship, persuaded you to visit Princess Rhaenyra. Part of you felt guilty for spending all that time with her husband, when he should have stayed close to her. But another felt flattered by the prince’s attention.

If the gaze of the queen seemed to be off, the gaze of the princess was filled with boredom, two young children with silver hair were playing in her room, a servant was watching them. Rhaenyra was sitting by the window, one hand laying on the sell. You stood by the door while Alicent saluted her, you could observe from their interactions that they had been friends for a long time. Alicent took a few minutes before he introduced you.

“Rhaenyra, this is Lady Y/n Tyrell, we have sympathized the last days. »

As much as the moments passing by Daemon had seemed to you to be fast, the one spending with Rhaenyra seemed endless. You learned the children’s names, and looked at them from afar, you smiled softly at their children’s squabbles. You kept a cordial conversation with the princess, though your heart beat faster than usual. A presentiment became more and more present in you, the one that the princess knew of moments spent with Daemon.

The weekend was quite classic for such festivities.

The last banquet was the most grandiose, fruits and vegetables from Essos were present, dishes flavored with varied spices whether meat or fish, wine reigned on the tables, the buckets were always filled, The musicians were from islands near Essos, which played music with different rhythms and tones than the one usually played in Westeros. Although according to the region the music was different each corner of Westeros had different styles.

At the beginning of the evening, you stood between your mother and Lady Alicent, exchanging opinions on the meal, the guests and the music. From the corner of your eye you could glimpse the king’s table, the guests who sat there had changed from one evening to the next. Moving from close family to the closest advisors and allies of the Targaryen. Only Viserys and Laenna were present every evening. Rhaenyra only had to attend the opening, Viserys explaining that the young mother had to rest.

As the hours went by and the people present began to dance, the centre of the room gradually began to fill with people. Contemplating the group of people dancing, their movement gradually becoming synchronized, you did not pay attention to the people behind you.

"Lady Tyrell, will you accept this dance?"

A young Lord of a vassal house of the Lannisters had just spoken, his voice in grave tones had surprised you, turning on a young man with dark brown hair, and amber eyes, you accepted, he was not unpleasant to look at and courteous. Your parents were staring at you two, wondering if they had planned this meeting.

The dance did not last all the music. Daemon was watching you from the beginning of the meal and the young Lord he called «asshole» in his thoughts, irritated him, he had passed several times behind you before talking to you and the way he had to watch you make Daemon want to tear his eyes out. It is annoyed that Daemon rose towards the dance floor.

When you changed partners, you found yourself face to face with the prince, he, who had not danced all week, began to dance with you.

A dance was followed by a second, then a third. Viserys was not positive to see his brother dancing with a young woman other than his daughter. He sighed, exasperated by the actions of Daemon, Otto had transmitted to him the rumors of the prince’s adventures with the young lady of the house Tyrell. He knew Daemon well enough to know that his brother had something in mind and that he would do anything to get it.

You didn’t finish the night at the banquet, your feet were getting sore and fatigue was working its way through your body. You told your parents and Alicent that you were going to your room. Your parents followed you, fatigue also took them.

On the morning of your departure, you accompanied your parents to greet one last time King Viserys and Queen Laenna, and passed your greetings to the young princess. Daemon was not present, it upset you a little but did not reveal.

This annoyance went away when you arrived home. You were welcomed by several servants as well as members of your family. In your room stood a small pile of letter and parchment saddled. Surprised you asked the maid who was standing by your side, when they had arrived.

“They started when you were in King’s Landing, my lady. Recently they’re crows coming.”

When you took the first parchment, you noticed the Targaryen seal, opened it and noticed a beautiful healing handwriting. It contained a poem about flowers and dragons. Gradually opening the letters you noticed that it was the same writing and that everything was signed in the same way. The same first and last name. Daemon Targaryen. Touched you began to write a letter to the prince, you reread his letters one after the other. Your heart was palpitating, a silly smile sticking to your face. In one of the last letters received the prince promised to go through Highgarden. You began to look forward to this day.

A first visit was made two weeks after the end of the festivities, Daemon had arrived at the back of Caraxes. Your uncle Matthos was pleased to have a member of the royal family come to visit, even though it was Prince Daemon. You stayed in the gardens most of your time, watching the dragon lying in the gardens. Flowers surrounded the animal and contrasted with its red color.

"One day I will take you on his back." Daemon’s promise was written in one of his letters.

This visit was followed by several others, all longer and longer. Most often you and Daemon stayed in the gardens or in the library of the castle, he offered you at his arrival several jewels, rings, earrings and necklaces. Very quickly the end of the year pointed his nose, the leaves of the trees fell and the temperature dropped, this was nothing to compare to the temperatures of the north, but having lived all your life in the south of Westeros, the climate was cold. Daemon had arrived several days before, he intended to ask your father for your hand. Valeryen tradition didn’t stop him from having a second wife, he just had to be persuasive enough.

The news of Rhaenyra’s delivery arrived by raven, Daemon received the message, but did not return to the capital, It was only two days later when a raven arrived to announce the good news of the birth of Prince Joffrey and of his ans Rhaenyra good health that Daemon go. Not without an answer.

Your father agreed to give your hand to the prince. He was not afraid of the Targaryen, but he had heard of the obsessions that the prince might have and that he did everything to get what he wanted. Your father was just hoping the princess wouldn’t take it too hard.

Rhaenyra sat on one of the armchairs of his room fulminaient of the absence of Daemon, it was not the first time that he did not attend a birth, three years in the screen, for the birth of Luke, he stayed in the corridor, for Luke, he had remained with Caraxes. But for Joffrey, he was not even present in the city, no raven had arrived with an answer. When Daemon walked through the door, he walked towards the baby, posing in the arms of one of the nannies, he looked at him, detailing his face, noticing a silver-haired birth. He took him in his arms, without even greeting his wife.

« You were with that slut.” Rhaenyra’s tone of voice was dry.

“Don’t call her that in my presence.” Daemon looked up at Rhaenyra. “She will be my second wife.”

Rhaenyra understood, her husband, her uncle, was indeed in love with another young woman, she who thought that he would leave her before the end of the banquet, had been mistaken. She no longer spoke to him about the day, she was locked up in her room with the children. Viserys was more than despair of Daemon’s actions, he had just been a father for the third time and yet his spirit was elsewhere. Daemon explained to him that there would be no favouritism, that he would like them fairly.

But he was lying, whether it was to his brother or himself.

The ceremony of your marriage took place in the temple of Baelor, blessed by the septs, your house had asked to make a dress in a very «Tyrell» style, your dress, was less voluminous than that of the princess Rhaenyra at her wedding, the fabrics that made up the dress were fabrics of the greatest weavers of Reach and Essos, in the colors of your house, the nexkline was not too provocative, it just emphasized perfectly your chest, as well as the cut of the dress, which bent your silhouette. She also tackled fine embroidery, golden threads.

The marriages of the royal family attracted many people, the lords and lady of the noblest houses had been the first present, with a part of the people amassing at the entrance of the temple.

But this ceremony although official was not enough for Daemon, this ceremony had taken place to please your family and the king, but the ceremony that followed, before the eyes of some witnesses was much more official for the prince. The Valeryen ritual legitimately united you against Rhaenyra who had only the marriage of the seven to satisfy herself. This ceremony is the consequence of gossip, not for the least subtle. For the most part, they were insulting to your physique and your home. "It seems that the prince got her pregnant." "Did you see how big she is? Oh yes, she was already fat." Add giggles and you’ll only get a sample of the hallway gossip.

At the beginning of your marriage, Daemon visited you almost every night, the others he stayed with Rhaenyra, you could feel the princess’s gaze being more and more present and heavy, Your only ally in the Reed Keep was Queen Laenna and a surprising few knights of her close guard, from the young Sir Criston Cole. In the moments when Daemon was not with you, you visited the queen, although her visits were rare and spaced out.

The news of your pregnancy, did not surprise people, the prince ravages you almost every night, it was inevitable that you waited, by chance, so quickly, your first child. Rhaenyra already spoke to you very little, the communication was for a moment interrupted, Laenna ordered to her closest guards to watch on you and the unborn child. Your only refuge in the castle was the gardens that reminded you of home, Sir Cole working for your safety. He seemed to hold a kind of resentment towards the princess but you did not question him, for the first time, you had the feeling that the answer would not please you.

At the first delivery, Daemon was in the hallway of your room, he watched whether Cole who was posted at the entrance, Queen Laenna and Viserys were at his side, only the princess was again absent.

“Daemon she will be fine, she’s strong.”

Laenna tried to reassure him, but Daemon, listening to your incessant cries, was nothing more than a mixture of feelings, of anger towards the mestres, of fear, that something bad happened to you or the baby, of the joy of being a father again.

"DAEMON!!"

Your husband looked at the wall that separated him from your presence. For the first time in a long time he felt fear, true fear. With his heart racing to break everything, he held himself back.

“Go to your wife, Y/n needs you.” Viserys have spoked.

It was with trembling hands that Daemon entered, under the gaze of Sir Cole, the mestres present watched him astonish, never of the other births had he disdained entering before the end of the delivery.

“My Prince? The delivery is not over.”

Daemon was aware of it, if anything happened to you, he would be in the front row to kill the incompetent mestres.

The painful delivery ended after a very long day. You were exhausted, perspiration dripped from your forehead, the sheets were in places tearing so much that you had held them forcefully, you asked to carry your child, even though you were exhausted, you wanted to know that your child was well.

Y/s/n was your first son, he had purple eyes and a silver hair birth. Daemon placed a dragon egg in the cradle of Y/s/n. He stayed by your side for a full week, forcing the king’s advisors to wait in the corridor for an interview or a simple visit. Your parents, accompanied by Lord Matthos Tyrell and your aunt, were the first outside the Red Keep to visit you, Alicent followed closely, accompanied by her future husband.

Congratulations came from all over the kingdom, the birth of a child out of marriage between Targaryen was better seen. Gifts from all Westeros were sent, far more than Rhaenyra had ever had.

If the princess had never agreed to Daemon’s remarriage, she had not openly explained it to her family members. But the more her husband changed, the more a feeling of jealousy devoured her. She thought she was the only person for whom Daemon would remain faithful, she had believed him when he promised her that she would remain his priority. Now Rhaenyra no longer believed Daemon. In the vengeful years, her husband showed signs of favoritism, spending his days first teaching Y/s/n the High Valyrian, then defending herself while it was she who taught Jace and Luke the Valyrian. Joffrey grew up and although Daemon was present, he took him less and less for his father, Sir Strong who visited the princess gradually became a surrogate father. Rhaenyra ends up leaving an ultimatum to Daemon, one winter evening, she was waiting in the gardens, everyone knew that this was your refuge.

The same morning you were with your family in the dragon pit, Y/s/n was learning to lead d/n (dragon name), Daemon was more than proud of his children, your last-born, Baela was in your arms, you watched as your son’s eyes lit up in front of the little dragon following his requests, Caraxes was near, your twins born of the second pregnancy, caressed the great red dragon. Caraxes let a roar of satisfaction pass.

This warmth contrasted with the icy wind of the gardens, winter was at its zenith, the dormant flora, reminded you of Highgarden, which at times you missed.

Sir Cole was a few meters from you, Daemon knowing the resentment that the knight held against the princess, let him be your sworn shield, Criston would never have let Rhaenyra hurt you and he was sure of that.

Yet the princess was waiting for you, she wanted to secured her hold over her husband, even if it meant something bad.

"Princess?" Your voice echoed in the lifeless garden.

“I am not here for peace.”

« What peace? We’re not in conflict, princess." You were upset.

“Oh yes… Ever since MY husband fell in love with you. You are nothing, no more than a whore in the slums of King’s Landing.”

You felt Sir Cole stiffen up last, you could only imagine the knight holding his hand on the knob of his sword.

« You are badly placed Rhaenyra to speak to me in this way, when you, was less old than I was at my wedding be dragging a rumor about your visit to the debauchery places, more than one lord calls you, hanging around your back. Everyone thinks that you lost your maidenhood in its place and that your marriage to Daemon was there to avoid humiliating your father’s honor.”

"How dare you speak to me like this?! To your future queen!"

“The truth is painful to hear, I see.”

"I will make you! …"

"What are you going to do, Rhaenyra?"

Rhaenyra who had approached you looked up and saw behind you, Sir Cole sword in hand and Daemon standing by his side.

“D… Daemon… Nothing I promise you.”

Rhaenyra felt her blood freezing in her veins. She didn’t expect Daemon to be present. Daemon ordered Sir Criston to escort you to your children. He had to settle some conflicts with his niece.

Rhaenyra approached Daemon, a look that was meant to be sweet but also showed fear. As she placed a hand on his chest, he grabbed her by the throat tightening enough to hold her without choking her.

“If you threatenh Y/n or I learn that you orchestrate the slightest evil toward her or our children. You will regret it bitterly.”

“D… Daemon…” Rhaenyra was trying to free herself from the prince’s grip.

Daemon looked at her a few seconds before letting go of her grip. He left, without saying a word, walking towards the corridors of the Red Keep.

At the time of Viserys’s death, all were in mourning, Daemon had let his anger explode against the mestres who had not been able to heal his brother. Rhaenyra though devastated by the death of her father was thinking only of one thing, the throne, she would rule Westeros and could proclaim that your union with Daemon would be annulled and proclaimed that your children would be bastards. But… she was caught off guard.

On the morning of the coronation, Rhaenyra woke up in her room, usually the maids came to wake her up, and dressed her, but this time a man was sitting near the entrance, partially hidden by the shadow which was projected by the wardrobe nearby, A cane was visible. Rhaenyra knew this person, she had already met him before. Larys Strong was close to Alicent and close to you.

“Hello Princess”

"What are you doing here?"

“It just so happens that a plot to lose a friend has come to my ears.”

"Daemon will not leave you alive if anything happens to me! Guard!"

Rhaenyra got up rushing to his window to scream for help. But the one was blocked.

“No one will come to your aid at this time, princess, and I doubt that King Daemon will judge me if anything happens to you.”

Rhaenyra trembled, the fear she felt increased, her body trembled, her hands became sweaty and tears formed in her eyes.

 

On the other side of the city, Daemon was walking in the temple of Baelor, approaching the priest who held the crown of Aegon the conqueror. You stood beside Laenna, and your children, and his first children with Rhaenyra. In the future he was going to proclaim you queen consorts, Rhaenyra would have nothing, Jace, Luke and Joffrey sent through Westeros to marry with less important houses, to leave the crown when the time came to Y/s/n, spanking it noted and signed, reminding the lords each year that he would be the future king of Westeros. But for the moment he thought it could wait, he had a queen to proclaim. His sweet flower.

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

Not Wanted Part 2

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem chubby reader

Summarize:

Trigger Warning:

Author’s note: Hello, this part 2 are a little short but the next part will be longer.

Warning: I have not corrected this part deeply because slightly under painkiller. I will reread and correct better when I can

---

As the sun rose, the light moved on the ground, slowly drawing closer to the wet ground. When the sun has reached the line, the archery tournament would begin. If for some people time was moving fast, for others time seemed to have slowed down. Among this people, there was you.

You dared not look around, knowing that your father was watching you, at the slightest misstep, he would have made you pay once the alcohol in sufficient quantity in his veins. All you observed were the archers who all wore tunics in the colors of their houses or the nobles for whom, they participated in this tournament. You did not recognize all the houses, the participants coming mainly from house far away from home, and low nobility, at the limit of the squire. You suspected that your father might think of approaching one of them in order to bargain your marriage. This thought gave you shivers in the back. You did not know any of them, and although some seemed to be full of nobility, the others made you think more of small boasters who were there only to woo young women and in nothing seemed to want to find a wife.

Lost in your thoughts, the sound of the horn startled you gently, your servant took your hand to reassure you, you had closed your eyes, feeling your heart palpitating, opening your eyelids you watched the archers bandage their bows, ready to shoot.

From his place, Daemon continued to observe you, noticing your startle, he raised an eyebrow, raising his cup of wine in front of his lips, he smiled in the corner before drinking a sip. He felt that these few days of games were going to be interesting.

---

The gentle breeze, rare in the lands of the Baratheon, did not bother the archers, it even helped them in the first rounds, even the less skilful had no difficulty in reaching their targets. The closest to the center of the target, were qualified for the following rounds. Gradually, the targets were placed further and further, increase the difficulty, the breeze with the distance, slightly deflect the arrows from their trajectories.

This show was not the most exciting, the people present screamed very little, concentrating on watching the remaining archers prepare to shoot their very last arrow. You would sigh, prefer to speak in low mass with your servant, whether it is the next games, or the young man who remains embedded in a corner of your head. Your servant, at times, looked discreetly in the direction of the stands where Prince Targaryen stood, explaining to you that the prince seemed to be bored, his gaze lost in the void.

You were restrained from looking in his direction, knowing that your father, although concentrating on the tournament, would keep an eye on you, his presence was a burden on your back.

---

A new blow of horn put an end to the tournament, put an end to the first game of the day, it indicated at the same time, the beginning of the banquait of noon.

The lords and lady present, began to leave the stands one after the other, several lady left in the direction of their tents, walking quickly for the young, you suspected that they wanted to change to make a good impression, They also see it as a matter of finding a husband. You felt less alone in this bargaining game, although you would have preferred to have as many choices as they, to have the right to get to know your or your suitors. To be able to prepare yourself and not to remain locked in your tent, to watch over by your servant and Sir Percival. You sighed so softly, knowing what you were to do during the day, your father having been very clear in the morning. You had to be a silent spectator, between each game, you had to go to your tent and wait there for the next games. Instead of banquets or dinner by the side of the lords and lady of the smallest houses, you would eat with your servant, always enclosed in your tent.

It was simple, crystal clear. It was. It was not counting on a person with a purplish gaze.

Your father did not participate in the Baratheon banquaint, but had invited himself to the home of the archery tournament winner. Leaving you back at your servant’s side.

"Lady Y/n, can we stop at the vote of the helmets of the knights of the jousting tournament?"

“I…”

You were thinking, you wanted to go, but on the other hand you knew that your father’s wrath would have been terrible. Until out of the corner of your eye you saw an advanced gray dot. Turning your head, you recognized the unknown, the prince. He was heading for the tents of the future tournaments. With a stroke of madness or courage, you looked at your servant.

“Why not, let’s go, we can always say we got lost on the way home.”

Gently holding your servant’s arm, you began to walk slowly, trying to pass incognito in the crowd of people. While keeping sight of the corner of the eye, the prince’s silver hair.

---

There were few people present for the helmet vote. Each was particular, some wore gilding, other helmets were forged of angular geometric shapes. Your servant watched them each, taking her time, you on the contrary, you had the look hung by a single helmet, this dark helmet, with the details of a dragon.

"May I, ladies? We have few votes, if you like one, we suggest you vote for the one of your preference."

A mestre of the house Baratheon had just spoken, he was part of the judges designer.

«To which knights does this helmet belong?» this question comes naturally from your lips.

“We can’t tell you, although the houses may show, we want to keep a form of fairness in voting.”

“Oh, well…. I vote for this one then.”

You slowly raised your hand towards the dragon helmet.

The maester took note of a parchment, placing it in a wooden box. He observed your servant waiting for her answer. Surprised, she looked at you, you nodded, the mestre would not have accepted her vote if the number of votes was so low. She chose a helmet with gold motifs, delicately inlaid in the helmet. The Maester thanked you for the votes when he left the tent.

You watched around you, hoping to see the silver hair but alas, he was not present. You sigh softly, taking delicately the arm of your servant, you mime to return, under the odors emanating from the food cooked on the wood fire, opening you the appetite.

What you didn’t know was that the prince, hiding in the middle of the crowd, could see you, he had seen you come out of the tent, and he was ready to ask with very little politeness, if you had voted and for whom. But he held back, a vote was nothing compared to future games and his intentions towards you.

---

The second day, marked the beginning of the tournament of combat between two teams, the teams were constituted of several houses, generally, the houses were close by their geographical positions or by marital alliance.

These games were located outside the cities and villages, can be very large in size and duration all day, or several days depending on the size of the teams and the distance separate them. During his games, the two teams had to take their opponents prisoner, they could make prisoner exchanges, but generally, they waited for the horn sounds that declared the end of the game day claim by the lord of the place.

Your father had gone to the games, he enjoyed the violence that emanated from his games, a cup of wine in his hand he was screaming for are team fetish.

You of your side, you were staying in your tent, your father had not enjoyed your little getaway of the previous day and you had forbidden to attend the games of the day. It was a relief in a way, you didn’t want to see you go down on both teams. There were other ideas in your head, like going for a walk in the city.

With your heart beating, you had taken a hooded cape from the trunk where the few clothes you had were. Your servant was ready to follow you, Sir Percival was not in the running, if he would have been, he would never have accepted. It was in secret that the two of you set off towards the city, with your head hidden by the hood.

---

The city consisted of wooden buildings and lime. There was a large street that led to tangles of smaller streets and alleys. Each street led to specific shops, there was a street of blacksmiths, a street of tailors, a street of market gardeners to name a few. The streets were paved with large stones, the streets bonded visitors and spectators of the games.

You could hear the cries of the merchants, the negotiations taking place between the merchant and the client. Musicians playing and singing, you could see color games coming from the clothes of passers-by. A smell of earth food reigned in the air, except at the time of passing in the street of the washerwomen, where a smell of soap and plant reigned in the street.

---

The sun almost at its zenith, you proposed to your servant to take advantage of this outing to eat outside the camp, it is more than joyful, that she accepted.

At the corner of the street taverns, you went in search of one of them who prepared dishes to your taste. One of them was interesting, because of its food offer but also because of its original name "The Smoked Pie". What a strange name.

As you entered the building, you were greeted by a sweet warmth and a mixture of smell, wood fire and food, the smell of roasted meat and soup rose to your nose. The place was luminous by its windows illuminate by the light coming from the street, only a part more removed from the entrance, was plunged into the penumbra.

The walls were composed of a light cob and consolidate pillar of dark wood in a color contrast.

Employees of the tavern, walked zigzagging through the aisles of tables, from the world was present, near to eat the specialties of the establishment. Fortunately, some seats were free at some tables, one of them was in the right corner of the counter, on the nearby tables, men and women feasted, sang, giving even more warmth to the place.

At this table, two hooded people were sitting, drinking and eating sense pay attention to the world around them.

It’s one step to decide that both of you start walking towards this table. The owner of the tavern sent an employer to welcome you, explaining the many dishes that the place offered, leaving you a few moments to choose. Your servant looked at you waiting for you to choose for both of you, though she knew you would have let her choose what she wanted to eat.

As you opened your mouth to begin to command, a male voice held you back.

"I don’t recommend their wine. It’s dog piss."

Outraged to have heard the words of the man, you raised your head, how did he dare to speak like that? for whom did he take himself?

"Keep an eye on..."

You could not continue your sentence, your heart missed a beat before starting to beat, your pupils began to dilate, this man... Those purple eyes... it was him...

Daemon Targaryen was right in front of you, and the world seemed to disappear around you.

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

The prince of her heart

Pairing: Daemon x chubby fem reader

Summary: Your relationship with Daemon was never easy, but how will the prince react to the announcement of your engagement with a Martell prince?

Trigger warning: English is not my mother tongue

Author’s note: Y/e/n means; your enemy name

For several years you had lived in King’s Landing, you were the eldest of your house, which was of average nobility, your parents had sent you to the capital to allow you to refine your education. Their intentions were most clear, the more noble you seemed and learned to know people of the nobility and the more likely they were to marry you with a house of "great" nobility, such as the Tully house or the Lannister house, They did not hope that you could marry a member of the Targaryen family, as they were difficult to please and the throne game very often deadly.

You lived this education well, it was repetitive and at times boring, but the mestres and nanny were not the most severe. The young lady of your age were the most disturbing, their little comments on your physique had become a habit, you answered them dry but without too much violence in your words, if they had made the decision to be wicked, that was not your case. Even if at times they could be cruel in their words, you told yourself that one day it would turn against them. All knew your attraction to one of the members of the royal family, for they all met to see him when he was in the castle. The rogue prince, Daemon Targaryen.

If you remained in retreat and avoided to cross the eyes of the prince, the other young women did not hesitate to leave their comments in his direction. They annoyed you, every time one of them hung on the prince’s arm or shared one of the rare dances. They seemed like desperately hungry leeches. Your heart was palpitating, you felt a heat invade your head and the top of your body, you felt the blood in your veins both boiling and cooling. A feeling of jealousy pervaded you, for all this years, you had tried to speak to the prince but with each attempt, one of your competitors came to take the light, always finding an excuse to grab the prince’s attention. The only time you had any semblance of discussion was in the largest library in thé red keep. The place had become a sanctuary for you, it was quiet and you no longer heard the chuckles of turkeys, uh pardon the young women, who were obsessed by the prince, you were still young and your feelings and your behavior were impacted.

Over the years, your forms had become established, you were much more round than the others, if some young men were attracted by the thinner women, others had shown more interest in you. This happened more often with young men and older, coming from the north. Like Lord Stark, who at a reception had offered an engagement with his son, but Gregan Stark was just a baby, your parents had responded politely, declining the offer. Deep down, you were both proud to be able to please, but they weren’t the ones you wanted. A form of melancholy pervaded your body, not knowing how to attract the attention of the prince, whether it was a dress of a new color, or a new haircut, Daemon seemed never to see you. With every little glance you threw at the prince, he looked at other people, never looking at you, at the end of the festivities you felt like a ghost in his eyes, but that didn’t completely demoralize you, wanting to focus on the positive events you were experiencing outside of your one-way attraction. Many knights and maids had seen changes in your behavior when the prince was present and if they remained silent when the prince was present. For the most part, you had their support, in any case, those to whom you spoke.

---

You were sitting in one of the furthest corners of the library, reading a book about northern tales and legends that came from one of the great "go" of the library. You were fascinated by the history of the construction of the gigantic wall, theirs stories were much more gloomy than those of your home. Recently, you had no time to read a book properly, your parents intended to make you meet several pretenders, you had the visit of a dozen eldest sons, coming from houses of the same nobility as yours. They came mainly from the north of Westeros, although some seemed physically pleasing, you had little in common.

It was while waiting for news about the suitors you had met and potential future suitors, that a shadow slid along the table where was placed the big book bound from a thick leather. You thought it was your servant, but the surprise was different.

A man about your age, with his back straight, his long silver hair cascading against his shoulders, dressing in black and red, with embroidery in the shape of scales stood in front of you. You blinked several times, making sure you didn’t imagine Daemon standing in front of you.

"Hello"

You looked around you, little sure of being the intended person, Daemon had never taken the initiative to speak to you. It was after a few seconds of uncertainty that you answered.

"Hello..."

"Y/n, am I right?"

"That’s what it is..."

You looked at Daemon with a look of little reassurance, the last rumours wanted him to court one of the worst turkeys, pardon "young woman", heart beating quickly, you tried to keep a calm breath, waiting for what would happen, Suspicious, after all you were at the red keep, everything was dangerous, even simple words.

The prince spoke again, not explaining to you why he had approached you, he spoke to you as if you were commonly spanking him. You only listened, answering at a rare moment, unsure of the prince’s intentions, thinking that it would have lasted only that day.

The next day, the prince came back to see you, and the day after that. For several weeks, you had come closer to the prince, the shyness that you could feel in his presence, at first gradually faded. You had not sent a letter to your parents explaining this sudden change in the prince’s attitude, although you remained on your guard a more innocent part of you hoped, that the prince had a real interest in you. You were getting closer and closer to him, watching him during his training, sharing moments where Daemon was reciting poetry, humming songs in the language of ancient Valyria. You could watch turkeys at times, oh.... " young women"... look you with disdain, one of them, Y/e/n was the one who said she was being courted by Daemon seemed fulminal, although continuing to spend moments with the prince, especially during official events, although these were more rare with time.

----

You couldn’t believe Daemon invited you to join him outside the castle. This very morning, for two weeks, he had seemed sweeter, taking your hand, taking you for a walk outside the castle. If your reason cried out to you to beware, your heart was pure joy, although the change in the prince’s behavior was not joyful for all, Daemon had been introduced as a commander of the city watch of King’s Landing, He would have angered several families refusing the hand of their daughters, the fathers would have filled the hand of the king, who would have succeeded in granting the prince’s sending, far from the red keep. There was a form of withdrawal going through you when you weren’t close to Daemon. It is the spirit in the clouds that you prepared yourself with difficulty, late in the evening, wanting to take one of the passages that the prince had indicated to you.

In the darkness, you walked in silence in the long and cold corridors of the red keep, wearing a dark and supple dress as well as a long cape with a hood hiding your face. With your hands moist and trembling, you advanced, watching every sound, whether it was a drop of water falling from the ceiling, the murmuring of distant conversations. Every time a guard turned to take the hallway you were in, you tried to hide behind one of the statues in the hallway or one of the huge stone flower pots.

The secret passage was not very far away when you felt a hand resting on your shoulder. A cry escaped from your mouth but was held by a gloved hand. The jerky breathing, the throbbing heart so strong that you had buzzing ears and trembling hands, you tried to free yourself. When you managed to turn around, you noticed that it was one of the knights you had met several times in the castle, the man with black hair and amber eyes had always been most courteous in your presence, he wore a golden fabric on his left shoulder.

"Sir Melmidoc. Why did you do this?"

"It’s more for me to ask you questions, Lady Y/n"

"I was walking around."

"In the corridors of the castle? In the middle of the night?" Sir Melmidoc saw the piece of parchment in your hands, a little dragon symbol was stamped "Oh, you’re one of them..."

The knight stepped back, freeing you from his grip. He seemed both intrigued, sad and angry. You did not understand why he reacted in this way, a hint of fear passed through you when he spoke again.

"It was Prince Daemon who asked you to come and join him, wasn’t it." Faced with your lack of response, he went on. « Don’t go, please, my lady. How can I tell you that?" He sighed. " The prince has no good intentions, for several months, he speaks of a young woman, who turns around and who would pity in him, but not a good pity... »

You couldn’t believe it, even though deep down, your conscience was screaming that she was right all along. With difficulty swallowing your saliva, you had the impression that your heart was going to explode in your chest.

"I’m sorry Lady Y/n, you may not be that young woman, but I ask you to be careful, the prince likes to change women once he gets bored of her. Many people at the castle like you and wouldn’t want to see you unhappy because of the prince."

"Sir Melmidoc... I cannot take your word for it, how can I? If I have to see what’s going on and hear what the prince has to say to me, then so be it."

"I accompany you, a lady of a noble house must not circulate in King’s landing alone."

It is the misting spirit that you have begun to walk, Sir Melmidoc. Your ears were buzzing, you felt a little sweaty, if the prince wanted to humiliate you, you wouldn’t let it happen.

----

You had only crossed the streets of the city on foot in the presence of Daemon and by day, at night, the streets seemed to you to be a maze, you followed the drawing plan on the parchment, this one you spanked in the most clean neighborhoods. From the city, knights regularly roamed the streets, unlike the more distant districts where the streets were the darkest where a mixture of cries of sorrow, fear and joy mingled. Sir Melmidoc noticed that you were approaching the place of command of the city watch of King’s landing where Daemon had taken up residence, outside the brothels, the people around you did not seem to pay attention to you, too much to drink or eat or just to feast.

You had stopped in front of a house that seemed empty, the shutters were closed and a faint glow passed through one of the windows. Sir Melmidoc watched you approach the window, it was high because the building was on a natural descent, which meant that to enter the house, you had to climb three steps. The first window was still a good size for you to see, but the light window was higher, you stood on your tiptoes, putting your hands on the windowsill to try to see what was going on inside.

The boards that formed the shutter were chipped in places, which allowed you to see through a slot sufficiently spaced that there was a person in the place. You recognized Daemon’s long hair, he was standing in the middle of the room, a fire was lit in the path, which illuminated the place. The thrilling heart you thought was good, it was there, it was already a good thing. You felt your heart tighten when Y/e/n entered the room, Daemon turned in his direction, you could not hear what they were saying, but the vision of Y/e/n in Daemon’s arms and kissing him was enough for you to stop looking.

Sir Melmidoc saw you moving away from the window, your eyes lost in the void and sad, your lip trembled a few seconds before you pulled yourself together, taking a deep breath you began to walk towards the castle, Melmidoc went towards the shutter and looked, Squeezing the dots they saw Daemon and Y/e/n, the prince had his hands on the young woman’s forearms. Although Sir Melmidoc was tempted to interrupt what was going on in that house, he resumed, escorting you to the red keep like any good knight. All along the way, you said no words, your mind was confused by your reason screaming that you should have been careful, and by the regret of having been deceived so easily.

The red keep seemed dull and darker than the screen, perhaps it was due to your own sadness.

-----------

In the morning, you stayed in your room, delaying your visit to the library, your servant, Anne, tried to encourage you to leave your room, but you refused each time, explaining that you did not feel good, you asked her to bring your meals directly to your apartments, refusing any other visit. That day you allowed yourself to be sad, to do nothing, not even to complain about your fate. You were letting go for the first time since you came here for years.

Around noon, Anne handed you a parchment bearing the seal of Daemon, you let her put it on the table with your meal, you wanted to read the parchment, to be able to read what lies the princes might have told you, but you put it on the coter, not descaling it.

----------

If at the first moment of your getting to the red keep and the prince’s vision, you were looking to meet Daemon without being too insistent. This was no longer the case when you felt confident to see him face to face. You sent Anne to ask the servants if they had seen the prince, all their answers were negative, until early evening. Murmuring in the corridors, the king had summoned his brother, for a question of violence.

You were standing in the gardens of the red keep, in front of the big old tree, the torches were outside giving orange hues to the too much of the white tree, allowing play of shade, to which you would never have paid attention to the screen, But doing that would allow you to think about what you wanted to say to the prince.

Sounds of footsteps came out of your reflection, the sounds echoed from the only open door of the castle, guards were posted on both sides of it. You turned slowly in the direction of the door, when the footsteps were close enough to see who was approaching.

In his armor, his golden cape lay on his left shoulder and this eternal draconian helmet. Daemon stood at the entrance to the garden, your heart began to run wild, and you kept trying to stay calm. As the distance between you and me was reduced. Your emotions were fighting with each other, anger for having been deceived, sadness, pride, your courage, you had to prevent him from speaking to you, knowing the least of his words, you would risk falling into the dragon’s den.

"Would you avoid me?"

"I..." You took a deep breath. "I came to the place of our meeting. I saw you and Lady Y/e/n."

Daemon seemed surprised and irritated by your revelation, but before he could tell you anything, you spoke again.

"I’m not like all other young women, I’ve heard the rumors that you’re having fun playing with someone’s feelings, I want to tell you that it won’t work with me, I no longer wish to see you, farewell Prince Daemon."

At the end of your monologue, you began to walk, with your back straight and a steady movement towards the point of arrival of the prince, not leaving him time to answer, he called you and began to follow you to the door where the guards prevented him from entering. His cries resounded in your mind all night, preventing you from finding sleep. You were hoping deep down that you made the right decision.

---

The days that followed were a real chaos in the castle, the prince if he did not come in person in the castle sent knights under his orders to look for you, even if it meant forcing you out of the castle to speak to him in person. The cacophony that had occurred, had forced the king’s hand to assign you a sworn shield. Forcing Viserys to think about a solution to the prince’s temperament.

This situation was irritable to you, you could no longer go about your usual activities, always having to have your sworn shield at your side, your visits to the library had been interrupted several times by Daemon, he went through the aisles of the library, whether in armor, his golden cape floating in the air, or in more formal clothes in the eternal colors of his house. The more the days went by, the more violent his visits were towards those present.

"Where is she, you mangy dog?"

"We do not know Prince Daemon."

"I know you’re lying to me! Servants saw her come in!"

"Maybe she’s out in the meantime?"

Daemon had caught one of the mestres by the pass, almost choking him, his gaze was filled with a fury that few people had seen coming from the prince. Daemon, released the maester sending him to the ground, he looked around him one last time before leaving the library, threatening the maesters one last time.

---

"Dear daughter,

I hope everything’s going well for you, Red Keep, we haven’t heard from you in weeks, we’re worried about you. A letter came from King’s Landing, asking us to come as soon as possible, I hope nothing happened to you.

But if you’re just melancholy, I hope this information will please you,

Your father and I have reached an agreement with the house of Martell, in order to unite our two houses, in the days following the arrival of this letter, if the calculations of the mestres are good, Nymor Martell, the Second eldest son of the Prince of Dorne, will go to King’s Landing, to meet you, we hope that your meeting can be fruitful. For the sake of both our houses.

Be careful, I love you,

Your mother"

You were reading the letter, sighing, you didn’t want to meet Nymor Martell for the moment, but your duty to your family had to be done, whether you wanted to or not. Putting down the letter, you noticed the small pile of parchment bearing the seal of Daemon, if he had no longer come to the castle by his duty as commander of the city watch of King’s landing, it was mainly because the king had forced him to stay there. He continued to send you messengers, even though they remained unanswered.

---

Nymor Martell was most charming, although his charm was less pervasive than that of Daemon. He was polite, asked if he could put a kiss on your hand, what you wanted to do at the castle, wondering how your life was in the capital.

Nymor had short hair, jet black and boulée, her dark brown eyes reminded you of the colors of the trees of the forests surrounding your house and a warm tone, He was a little smaller than Daemon, of a half head. His olive skin seemed to have been touched by the sun all her life. He wore the traditional yellow of his family, his clothes were thinner and wider than those of Westeros, his top was very often opened on the top of his torso. Although you always had the image of the prince in mind, you made it your duty to be the most agreeable, Nymor could see the sadness in the depths of your eyes, the rare moments when you really looked at him, but he understood that a marriage arranged was never entirely wanted, That’s why he wanted to be the most pleasant, getting to know you gently. Sending flowers to your apartments, jewels in the style of Dorne, he found the last book that you had spoken to him during the day to start reading it.

If your understanding was easy, shadows revolved around you both. The greatest shadow, was most devouring, furious. If it could have been palpable, a burning heat would have emanated. Daemon, who left several of his knights learned that a Martell prince was circling you, and that rumors about your future engagement were circling in some noble houses, was most angry.

---

Three months had passed since your meeting with Nymor, your meetings had continued, for a good part of the days, dining together, strolling through the gardens, you asked him how Dorne was, he told you about his city the Sunspear, of the Old Palace, long days of sunshine, caravans crossing the desert, slowly explaining to you how romantic relationships were different in Dornes, he did not speak to you of freer love, not now, everything in its time.

Your engagement was formalized in a few feathers on parchment. King Viserys was happy that the Martell house was getting closer to a house close to the Targaryen, so happy that he organized festivities there, including a tournament.

Nymor took part, he loved jousting and wanted to show everyone that his future princess was most desirable and that he would do everything to please her. All had heard the rumors about the will of Prince Daemon to participate in the tournament, although Viserys is against, Nymor manages by his charm and his words to make accept the participation of Daemon. You had explained to him in a few words, your semblance of relationship with the prince. He had listened to you, while suspecting that if the prince had become so aggressive, it was because everything was not officially over for Daemon. Because of her pure pride Martell, Nymor got into the head of testing Daemon, because if the prince was still present in your life, you would never have been entirely yourself in Dorne and especially to see how far the prince was willing to go for you. To see if he was sincere positively or that his way of acting had as source are equal wounded.

---

The musicians struck their little drums in harmony, many people were present in the stands, many wore the colors of their favorite knights, many people from Dorne had made the trip. It gave tones of golden yellow in the bleachers.

Your parents had arrived two days earlier, they were both happy for your future union but at the same time they feared Prince Targaryen, when they first arrived more than three months in front of the screen, they had seen the actions of the prince, the numbers of parchments seal in your chambers, your mother had tried to have you open at least one parchment, but you had refused, being yourself tugging, knowing yourself enough to know that according to the messages, your destiny would have been changed.

You were seated in the royal stands, the king was in the stow above yours, a free seat was at your right, destine to Nymor if he had to be defeated, in order to attend the tournament. To your left were your parents, your mother sitting directly to your left, holding your hand, feeling her own stress, as you tried to keep a weak smile, masking your fear of a possible meeting between Nymor and Daemon.

King Viserys stood up, raised his arms, spoke, spoke forcefully so that everyone could hear him.

"I know that many of you have travelled a very long distance to attend the festivities dedicated to the engagement of the Martell house and the Y/h/n house, which are proud allies of the seven crowns. I can promise you you won’t be disappointed. Many of theirs knights have trained to entertain you, Prince Nymor Martell, himself to decide to participate. I wish him good luck and that the tournament begins!"

The drums resumed their rhythms, while the spectators shouted with joy. The first knights entered the arena, in their shining armor, their horses henned, dust flew behind them, their squires, retreating passed this cloud, placed themselves at their respective marks, preparing to help their knights in this duel.

The snap of the reins marked the beginning of the duel. The two riders galloped, advancing one towards the other along the wooden railing.

The snap of their spears breaking on their shields made several spectators shout. The knight in front of the Royal Gallery had managed to bring his opponent to the ground.

Several people of the royal tribune applauded, your father himself watched the duel with interest, you suspected that bets were taking place among the nobles, their various and varied reactions throughout the day, confirmed it.

At Nymor’s first duel, your heart was pounding, you would be your mother’s hand, hoping for everything to go well. Fortunately, Nymor was a very good rider, he dropped his opponent at the first blow, barely moving from his horse’s saddle to the sudden blow against his shield.

Nymor wasn’t the only knight who made you react like that.

Daemon, of his black armor, wearing his helmet, with dragon-like wings, red and black crest floating in the air. The prince made a smashing first entrance. He was aggressive in his way of fighting, using cunning to bring down his opponents. At each entrance and victory, he would cast a glance in the direction of the tribune. That look would thrill you and take your breath away.

---

«Here is a duel awaited by all! The prince of Dorne, Nymor Martell, will fight the prince of the city! Daemon Targaryen!»

Your heart was pounding, your hands were getting sweaty, your mother would whisper sweet words to help you stay calm. Behind you, you could hear some lords making bets, your father himself had wagered several gold coins for Nymor, while behind you you heard, a Lord placing on the right of Queen Aemma betting for Daemon.

Breathless, you saw the two princes come in. Their armor was the opposite. Nymor’s armor was in silver tones, a golden sun engraved on his chest, his helmet also had sun patterns. The armor of Daemon gave him the appearance of a dragon. His horse with the dress and black mane, gave him the appearance of a conqueror. A Martell – Targaryen duel had not taken place since Aegon… and this one was not won by the dragons. Nymor knew that very well, since his house never fully accepted the unification of the Westeros kingdoms, they were not conquered and would never know.

Daemon looked one last time towards the Royal Gallery, before going into battle. Nymor was quick to react, moving towards Daemon. The sound of their spears shattered, startled you, you looked away for two seconds under the shock, raising your eyes you saw that the princes were still sealed, catching a new spear. This throwing relentlessly in this duel.

Daemon annoyed and frustrated at not being able to throw his opponent, his back dropped by the ruse. Instead of throwing his spear against the shield of Nymor, Daemon leaned to the side taking with him his spear which bumps against the legs of Nymor’s horse. The horse fell forward, Nymor was pinned from the seal and landed on the ground, his helmet still hanging from his head. The spectators shouted their discontent, dissatisfied with the victory of Prince Targaryen.

At the fall of Nymor, you rose from your seat screaming in despair, a trembling hand resting before your mouth. You thought you could feel your heart coming out of your chest, fear growing, you hoped Nymor wasn’t badly hurt. Squires dragged him out of the arena when he tried to get up with difficulty. Mestres were posted in front of the entrance of the fighters, the supported. Your mother kept holding your hand, she tried to reassure you, to make you sit, but you were paralyzed by fear. Powerless to provide helped.

"Lady Y/n. "

This voice... you knew it all too well, you looked in its direction and saw Daemon sitting on his horse.

“I ask your favor, with this one I will be sure to win this tournament.”

You felt a weight fall in your stomach, it was wearing a terrible smile, a mixture of pride and narquois was implanted there.

You looked towards your parents, who beckoned you to accept the prince’s request.

It was with a heavy heart, trembling hands, that you held the small crown of flowers in the colors of your house. You placed it on the tip of Daemon’s spear.

“Good luck, Prince Daemon…”

You were no longer interested in participating in his festivities, to see the end of the tournament. If Daemon wanted to hurt you from the beginning, he had finally succeeded. With the misty spirit, you sat down in your place, under the eyes of several lords and lady.

---

Fortunately, Nymor was not seriously wounded, the Maesters refused to see him anyway. The prince of Dorne had been touched in his pride and he had to decompress alone. You left the gallery before the tournament ended, not wanting to see the show.

In spite of everything, you took the hundred steps in the alley of the tents for the participants of the tournament. Night began to fall but you refused to return to the castle, worried about your fiancé. You sat on one of the benches installed in the alley, your sworn shield was at your side and tried to reassure you. A sound of gravel turned your head.

Daemon approached you, his helmet under his arm. Your knight stood on his guard, placing a hand on the knob of his sword. You raised one hand in his direction, asking him to relax. Daemon, once at your height, asked you to speak to yourself. Hesitant you accepted anyway, you had to talk. The last events were too much for you.

You followed the prince, moving away a few meters from the tents. Your heart was palpitating, a ball was forming in your sale. His presence so close to you, made you almost doubt the feelings that passed through your being.

"Are you happy?" You asked this question in a voice, slightly vibrant.

“Why should I be happy? You do not answer any of the messages I have sent you, you accept from being engaged to a Martell…”

“I did my duty to my family. What was I hoping for?”

"Let me speak to you!" Daemon was sincerely beginning to lose patience.

"To tell me what?! I have seen enough!"

“You didn’t see everything! You didn’t see that I was pushing that bitch away! I would have burned her alive before your eyes for hier thinking she was more important than you!” Daemon threw his helmet down. "If from the beginning you would have given me a chance to tell you what you mean to me, none of this would have happened! I asked you to join me that night to tell you how much I cared about you, to woo you more officially, to nail the beak of all detectors!"

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“I still care for you, seeing you courted, did accentuate the fire that burns in your name. I would destroy Dorne so that I could get you back and you could rule by my side!"

You watched Daemon surprised and strangely sad, questioning your own judgment.

"Why? Why do all this? Your obsession?"

"Because I love you!"

The last words of the prince resonated deep within you, spanking the walls that held back everything that had allowed you to hold on to his last months.

Daemon, his long hair floating in the air looked at you with his purple eyes, you could see a form of sincerity in the depths of his eyes. You weren’t sure about your future.

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

His first and only love  

Abstract: If before Rhea Royce there was Y/n, the only one that Daemon really loved.  

Pairing: Daemon x Fem Chubby Reader  

Author’s note: Hello, I just finished writing this one shot, I hope you like it, if there are spelling or conjugation errors, I’m sorry I would correct them as much as I can.  

Trigger Warning: fluffy, a little anxiety and mention of blood and death. (Yes, I know, it’s a strange mix.)  

For all those who knew Daemon during the reign of Viserys and the dance of dragons, the only person he ever loved was himself or for some Rhaenyra. For all those who knew him before the coronation and could not speak now would tell you, that this was not the case. Daemon did not know that to drown his own grief, that he was only a shadow of himself, that he wanted only one thing, and it was not to marry anyone, Rhaenyra was only a piece of the giant chessboard in which Westeros was found.

 

During the reign of Jaehaerys I, life in King’s Landing was different, The days seemed to be clearer. The population of King’s Landing was less aware of crime, the guards doing their job properly. 

You lived in a small house in King’s Landing, your parents worked in the city, they ran a small business, in which you worked to help your parents while you were engaged or to have enough savings to open your own business. You did not live in the noblest part of King’s Landing, nor in the poorest. You rubbed shoulders with people of all backgrounds except the nobles of the castle, although for some deliveries of goods, your father went with an employee to the castle, but no interaction other than with two or three servants took place.   

You had never left the city, the journeys were dangerous and required a lot of money, although in your being you wanted to be able to travel freely, to discover the islands of several travelers passing through King’s Landing told the stories. See even from afar the gardens of Highgarden, a winter in the north under the snow mountains, islands and warm lands east of Westeros. When dragons flew over the city you could not help but look at them, imagining what it could be like to travel the world. The only trips you were allowed were when you exchanged goods with a city near King’s Landing, more generally it was your father and an employee, armed in case of possible conflict on the roads, their journey lasted at least a week on good days.  

Your first encounter with Daemon took place on a great hunting day.  

The big hunt was organized by the king, some merchants were called to provide materials, food and drinks for the duration of the event. The palace placed an order in your parents' shop, asking for goods to be delivered on site. Your parents had organized the trade for the week that made up the big hunt. Your mother would stay at King’s Landing, doing the business, with an employee and an apprentice. You had volunteered to help your father, even though you were a young woman, you had become versatile in your business, whether it was for sale, organization or even repair what had to be done when no men were present. You knew where your goods were placed, their cost, how to move them and place them on the wagon. It wasn’t a burden to you, just normal.  

You followed your father when he put the goods in the wagon, explaining that the trade was in good hands, that you were independent enough to help him. You brought him all the arguments that came to mind, you ended up helping him to place wooden crates, placing them so that they take up the least space on the wagon, so that you could place more goods.  

You watched your father get on the wagon, take the reins in hand, employ him who went with him sitting beside him. You sighed, ready to turn around and go home. When you heard your father.  

“You can come, you have ten minutes to prepare. If you’re not back by then, we’ll be gone.” 

You hastened to take a bag where you placed a few clothes, the essentials, a dress, a pair of stockings, a long shirt, a clean ribbon to bind your hair if it were likely to fall before your eyes (if it was of no use to you, it could still be used as a bandage in case of injury), and a pair of underwear (mainly a panty, the long shirt serving as underwear of the upper body at the time). It wasn’t a tourist trip but for work, you don’t allow yourself any frivolity.  

In less than 10 minutes you took what you needed and ran towards the wagon, you went up to the back and sat on one of the big crates, placing your bag on your lap, your mother said goodbye from afar, just like the employee and the apprentice staying with her. Your heart was palpitating, for the first time you would see the outside of the city, even if it was going to be just from the road and the forest, it didn’t bother you.  

The trip took only one day, you could see the walls of the city moving away. The path was rocky and unpleasant, but it didn’t take away from your good mood. As night fell, you had to set up the little tent made of linen and wood. While beginning to unload the wagon, other traders had arrived before you and others continued to arrive, the servants of the noble houses also arrived, placing the large tents of the noble houses that participated in the great hunt. It was only late at night that you stopped, sleeping in the tent, your father sleeping in the wagon with your employee. 

The next day at sunrise, you helped the employee to undo the tent, your father had gone to the king’s servant, with whom he used to work, to explain to him that everything that had been asked was delivered.  

The nobles arrived at the tale tasted, you recognized certain coats of arms, several knights serving houses other than Targaryen were customers, growing up, you recognized several easily. The few Lannister representatives had arrived first, followed by the Baratheon house, and so on, coaches arrived or more simply simple horsemen. A thud in the distance made you stop as you started loading the wagon with the tent materials. You looked into the forest, but saw nothing. A violent gust of wind caused the hair to shake, Aube, the youngest of the hair pulling your wagon, moved a little violently, he was on the alert. The more the minutes went by, the more he agitated, your employee tried to calm him down. Your heart beat a little louder than usual, you were concerned about the stress of Aube, it was of a calm nature, something must have frightened him.  

A cry made you land on earth, Aube had just put it on the ground while freeing himself. You went after him when you saw the man get up.  

For several tens of minutes you walked the path that Aube had taken, the minutes turned into an hour and then into two. You end up getting lost, if at first you weren’t afraid, the more time passed, the more fear would engulf you. The forest was not a place that was customary to you, you did not know how to spot yourself, for nearly an hour you had left the path, noticing traces of hooves turning away from the road to rush into a much denser part of the woods. You had walked alone in the forest, although with time you said it was stupid to have rushed so much into the vegetation. The sun almost did not pass the foliage, some rays that reached the ground allowed you time although difficult to move. All of a sudden, a whimper froze you on the spot, you recognized Aube, you went towards the whimper, to discover Aube in what seemed to be a hole in the forest, the sun was dimly lighting the place, the trees forming huge shadows on the ground. You wanted to approac Aube but was caught hearing a loud noise, a feeling of warmth running through the place, as if the temperature had increased by tens of degrees in an instant.

 

The thud seemed to resonate, you slowly turned your head in this direction, afraid to see a wild animal, ready to jump on you at the slightest movement.  

Opening your eyes, you were greeted by a big yellow eye split like the eye of a cat, scales of a purple red and lighter surrounded it, the scales became larger as you moved away from the eye, you saw his mouth open, letting through a warm wind, on the end of its head was larger scales. Your heart was pounding, you weren’t moving, hoping you’d disappear from his sight if you didn’t. A man’s voice moved the enormous beast in front of you.  

“Caraxes, Henujagon zȳhon”  

The head moved, you could see that it was attached to a long neck, followed by a body and two wings two legs and a long tail. You breathed out the breath you were holding, trying to see who had spoken. You saw a young man with long silver hair and pale skin, your heart missed a beat, never had you thought of meeting a Targaryen, much less in a moment like this. Aube was out of your head, just like everything around you.  

Your return to King’s Landing was tumultuous, your father had worried, he had gone looking for you, to meet you a few hours later. You held Aube by his tether, and walked on the way back to the camp. He had spent the hours that followed questioning you, worried, but you reassured him, nothing had happened. He could smell a slight burning smell on you, but he said to himself that it was due to the fire of the night. You didn’t tell him about your meeting with the Targaryen prince. How you spent a few hours talking to each other, how the discussion seemed so simple, so accessible. Or questions about dragons, about life in the city. The prince had been very courteous in your company, to the point where your heart was racing when Daemon smiled at you.  

The weeks passed, and the thoughts around the prince continued to fill your mind. Your mother was watching you, seeing that you were thinking for long minutes at times. But that was your little secret.  

One evening just before closing the shop a messenger came through the door, he brought a suckling letter destined. Fortunately you had learned to read and write due to the future keeping of the commercial storybook. Your mother introduced you, you came out of the back room to get the message. When you took refuge in your room, you opened the seal on the letter, sealed it in the shape of a three-headed dragon, and you were hoping for a message from Daemon.It was the beating heart, sweaty hands and the ball in your belly that you began to read the letter.  

In this one, Daemon was asking you to join him on one of the streets adjacent to your parents' store that night.  

This small night getaway was the first of many.   

The first escapades took place in the streets of the city, at night, in the middle of street shows, street plays or puppets, fire-eaters and acrobats. You weren’t drinking alcohol to the point of being drunk.  

During the next outings, Daemon took you to see Caraxes, wanting you to be more comfortable with the dragon for your next encounters. He had in his mind the desire to please you with your intention to travel, to leave at night for a destination of your choice, for destinations he knew or not.  

Daemon for the first time in his young life felt fulfilled, when he was at your side, the ambitions of the throne more encumbered his mind. His heart beat at a frantic pace when he saw you smile, he felt as if he was losing his words by dipping into your eyes y/y/c. Your rounded shapes made him want to take you in his arms and spend the night there.  

The more time passed, the more Daemon became infatuated with you, he found it harder and harder to separate himself from you, so hard that he was ready to sneak you into the Red Keep. You became over time the person he cared about most in the world.

 

The change in Daemon’s behavior was becoming more and more visible at the castle. To the point that the king’s hand undertook to have the prince followed, not that the prince could not go where he wanted, he was not a young woman, but the expenses to which he was inclined to make him questioned. The prince had already had adventures but during none of them he bought jewelry, or fabric from Essos, never the servants of the dragon’s Pit had come to report that the prince had taken a young woman during the night on the back of Caraxes. Although Daemon was not the first choice for ascending the throne, future votes for the succession of (king) began to cross the mind of the king and Daemon was one of the possible choices. He couldn’t afford to fall in love with a commoner.  

The days became weeks and months, and eventually years. And while your relationship was secret at first, you and Daemon seeing you in some hostels, or late at night in the streets of King’s Landing. But as time passed and your meetings were less and less discreet, more and more people in the city witnessed your relationship, just as the servants of the castle, who in the morning could see that you had spent the night with the prince, whether it’s talking by the fire, or Daemon reading one of the Library books lying on his bed with your head resting on his chest. Questions about your relationship became more and more present, the king’s hand had heard of your origins, you were not a prostitute, which reassured him for a time. But the attachment of the prince worried him, it had to cease, for the good of the crown, a vulgar commoner could not be in such a long relationship with a Targaryen without risking the loss of title held by that person. It also meant losing a dragon in a major conflict and risking having it as enemies. His plan was simple, everything had to happen quickly and in no time Daemon would have forgotten you. But it didn’t happen so easily.

 

The plan was a simple bargain, your relationship for gold, so you could leave King’s Landing and leave the prince. But you refused with enthusiasm, it had touched your pride. The second plan was an assault and a strong intimidation.  

You were in Daemon’s chambers, lying next to him. Caressing his chest, you had not told him about the bargain, not wanting to worry Daemon. The beating of his heart soothed yours. The ambient silence was serene. Nothing could disturb you. Daemon delved into his thoughts, imagined how to make your union legitimate, how he could convince the king, imagining you in the temple of Baelor, dress up in a dress in Targaryen colors, then flee, that you are equal in the eyes of all. His decision was as clear as the purest water. You would be his wife, his equal, his queen. Rising up he put his lips against yours.

 

“Do you have to get up, my love?”  

“I won’t be long, Byka zaldrīzes, I’ll order a servant to help you get dressed and wait for me.” His voice was soft, his words were only a whisper.  

“Did you have in mind Daemon?” You were intrigued, he liked to surprise you, although some did not come without trouble.

 

"Aren't you serious, Daemon?"

Daemon put on his pants, his shoes and a shirt, he didn’t worry about having knots in his hair, that he wasn’t the most presentable. But his request was important.  

Jaehaerys had become paler. Daemon's words seemed to resonate in the room.

“I want to get married. If you don’t agree, I would do it without your consent.”  

“Your own children would be bastards. You would lose your title of prince.” Jaehaerys was trying to reason with Daemon, all this could not be true.  

“I don’t care about a title or a castle, the whispers of the corridors make me understand that I would not be chosen as your successor!”

“Whether she is a merchant or a prostitute will not change my decision. You will not marry a common person.”  

"Fuck the throne and your choice." Daemon’s eyes were darkened, his head high and his back straight, he looked at the king.  

Daemon turned around, approaching the door, and heard the king speak to him, but he had no intention of listening. He opened the door sniffing what startled the knights guarding the door. He went out and walked in the corridors full of the king’s words. He paid no attention to a servant running towards the wing of his apartments, nor when a first knight ran in the same direction. He was so immersed in his mind that it was only when three other knights passed him in gleaming armor that thought something was going on. At first he thought of a dispute between several lords present at the castle. But this thought was swept away in a gust of wind when he recognized screams.  

Daemon’s heart was pounding, he first walked quickly before starting to run down the corridors and stairs.  

The corridor leading to his apartments was guarded by two guards, he passed them by force, a ball formed in his belly, a horrible one now invaded him. The presence of several mestres was not a good sign. He could see a man held by several guards, the servant who was to help you was kneeling on the side of the door, she was in tears, when she aimed Daemon, she was panicked.  

“I’m so sorry… my prince… I couldn’t…”   

Daemon’s heart was palpitating to break everything, something serious had just happened to you, his throat began to tighten, his chest would have gotten closer to the open door. A maester stood between him and said door.  

“Prince Daemon… This is not a scene you have to witness,” he put his hand on Daemon’s shoulder. “We couldn’t do anything.”  

Daemon’s blood was freezing, his temples were beating to the rhythm of his heart, his ears were whistling. He pushed the maester and all the others who wanted to prevent him from entering.  

The room was in disorder, several books and furniture were overturned on the ground, the large curtain hanging from the window was torn off and on the ground. A smell caught his nose, he knew this smell, he had already experienced some battles. He smelled blood. Looking down on the ground, he was caught with a hiccup, his hands shaking, he approached the very large pool of blood running through the ground. With tears in his eyes, he fell to his knees, the vision before him, ended by breaking his heart.

 

You were lying on the ground, the long shirt you wore was soaked in blood, the men present had tried to stop the bleeding, in vain. You were staring into the ceiling. Daemon came closer to your body, tears running down his eyes, he took your body still warm against him, it could not be true, you were not dead.  

"My love, wake up. I beg you." He began to flip over himself, as if to rock your body and reassure himself. “Y/n, you’re alive I know, you know I don’t appreciate his jokes.”  

For several hours Daemon, you had kept in his arms, his long silver hair was soaked with your blood. 

“My prince… she died…”  

A young maester had just spoken, but Daemon was not moving.  

“Who did this…” the prince’s voice was just a whisper, the people present were not sure if they heard correctly. “I said! Who did this?”  

The maesters were petrified by the anger emanating from the prince. They were afraid that the least of their words could lead them to be cruelly executed. Daemon raised his head, his purple eyes were so dark that they were black. The younger men trembled, while the older men tried to find the appropriate words.  

«We were called by the young maid, she had heard noises of struggle before entering» A guard posted in front of the door had just spoken. “When we arrived, the man was still there, he had just stabbed her, we were able to catch him before he had time to escape.”  

"Who is he?"  

"We know not my prince."  

"Where is he?"  

"He has just been taken into the dungeons, my prince."  

The anger that devoured Daemon was not enough to multiply tenfold, the mestres hard to negotiate to recover your body. But after several attempts, Daemon let you be taken away.   

It was covered with blood that he went to the prison in the dungeons. He must have known why you had been taken from him. Knowing who he had to burn, rip off his head and torture.  

The cell was extremely dirty, he paid no attention to the foul smell. The man in front of him was covered with blows on his face, his beard was covered with blood, the arches cut, the split lip and several missing teeth. Daemon took it out on him.  

"Why did you do that? I wouldn’t repeat myself!"  

“I… I have been paid…”  

"By whom?"  

“T… the hand of the king… the new hand of the king…”

 

Daemon had his blood both burning and freezing. Realizing who had ordered your execution.  And though he did not know why the hand wanted your death, Daemon was going to take revenge, in the most cruel way, he was sure of it.

“Otto Hightower….”     

Traduction : Henujagon zȳhon / Leave her 

Byka zaldrīzes / Little dragon

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

Incertitudes

----Masterlist----"Rules" for request----

Part 1

Pairing : Daemon x chubby fem reader, Nymor Martell (oc) x chubby fem reader

Summer : Y/n tries to stay focused on her engagement although troubled by Daemon’s statement.

Trigger warning : English is not my native language. I desperately need a beta reader.

Author notes : Hi, "incertitudes" is uncertainties in french, if you don't want to Google translation

The sound of the wind shook the canvas of the tents, a smell of dry earth, steel and flower floated in the air, very few people passed through the alleys of the tents, Sir Gervesot your sworn shield was placed about thirty meters from you two and watched your exchange on his guard. The sun was shining in the sky, under other circumstances you probably would have enjoyed this moment. But it was the trembling hands, your buzzing ears and your heart pounding so hard, that you felt the beats in your temples, that you reflected on the words of Daemon.

"You say you love me." You just whispered his words.

"Yes, of all my being."

"What do you know about love?! You hurt my fiance! He did nothing to you! I would never have assaulted one of the women you sleep with! That’s not love!" A fury unknown to you until then had just shown his nose.

"What do you know about love?"

"Because I love you! I was ready to turn the page that wasn’t even written, I would have let you love another... I’d rather be unhappy and see you happy with another. That’s love... As long as the other is happy, that’s all that matters..."

"Do you think you’re happy with this prince? He won’t bring you everything I can give you."

"I don’t know if I would be in the future, but a throne is not what I want..."

"What do you want?"

"Faithfulness? Loyalty?... I don’t know, but not all the riches of the world... They’re worthless if... If you’re afraid of losing the person you love to someone else..."

Tears were running down your cheeks, you were angry with the prince and at the same time, a part of you was screaming that you finally had what you wanted. Daemon was initially frustrated with your response, but as you began to cry, a form of guilt began to gnaw at him. The prince raised his hands to try to hold you in his arms, but you stepped back, raising your arms to avoid any physical contact. Your sworn shield by your cries had approached, hand on the pommel of his sword, the cracking of branches and grass indicated to you that it was close.

"Y/n..."

"No Daemon, I... I can’t... I’m engaged now... I can’t do this to my family."

Daemon watched you slowly recede, like a wild animal in front of a predator, his own heart pounding, your look showed how badly you were wounded, the prince himself was no longer sure of what he had to do, he could not let you go like that. He had to make up for it, if it wasn’t beating that "Nymor" in a tournament, he had to find another way to win you back. He was heartbroken when he saw you leaving in the direction of your fiancé’s tent, but at the same time, another fire began to burn in him, much stronger for you.

---

The tent of the Martell house was a flamboyant yellow outside but a more ochre yellow inside, some furniture was placed there, a table where several chairs were placed, several arms racks and armor stand, wooden pillars maintained the roof of the tent was visible and locations for wrought iron lamps were embedded in it. A silk curtain separated the tent in two, you looked around you, looking for Nymor, Sir Gervesot remained at the entrance of the tent, ready to intercept any incoming people.

You walked quickly towards the curtain, placed one of your hands on it, moved the piece of cloth on the cotton, heard a sound of movement and a grunt.

"This have to stop, leave me alone."

"Nymor..."

"Y/n? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be enjoying the festivities?"

"I was worried about you."

Nymor, who was lying on a bunk, got up hearing you. His curly hair was mixed and ruffled, his face had small wounds on the right corner of his head, all had been treated by the mestres, none would leave scars. His armor was on the ground beside the shirt he was wearing underneath, moving everything by the mestres. The top of his body was covered with a thin, simple shirt, without frills.

The Prince of Dorne raised his arms inviting you to approach, it is in a few pat that you run away in the arms of your fiancé, a weight weighing on your shoulders began to fall, you placed your arms around his torso, clutching him like a life buoy. Nymor began to gently stroke your back with one hand.

"I... I saw Daemon..."

You looked up, watching Nymor’s reactions, but he seemed thoughtful, you continued.

"We talked, I think... he... he explained his point of view to me... and finally told me that he loves me..." You felt Nymor’s hands clench against you. "I told her it wasn’t love... You don’t hurt the other for love..."

"Do you love him?" Nymor looked at you with her brown eyes.

'It’s not even six moon, but I... I think part of me always have him in mind, even in a tiny way. I’m sure you still have a part of your last love in you."

"That is true."

Nymor laid his head against yours, gently kissing your forehead. Prince Targaryen did not seem to be a person abandoning so easily, the goals he had set, the dornish prince, understood that your stay at King’s Landing had to be shortened, the faster you will go to Dorne and the faster, Daemon would stop in his shenanigans. A war with Dornes was not permitted for the crown, and this both princes were concise about, but only one was impulsive enough to trigger it. You stayed several hours beside Nymor, when he asked what had happened during the tournament, you explained to him that you had no heart to watch. You felt relaxed near Nymor, much more than with Daemon, in the presence of the Targaryen, a part of you was always vigilant, not of fear, just instinctive.

When night came, you proposed to the dornish prince to accompany you to the red keep, which he quickly accepted. Although his ego had been wounded in the face of his defeat. Your presence had appeased him. It is hand in hand, Sir Gervesot follow you, that you would go to the castle, which had several windows illuminated by the light of the torches. The light in the banquet hall was most flamboyant. You looked at Nymor and then at the banquet hall.

"Why not eat together? I don’t want to be around so many people."

"That’s a great idea."

With a glance and a smiling accomplice, you continued to walk, without suspecting that several knights in the golden cape were looking towards you. One of them goes on a brisk march through the tents, entering the largest and darkest of them. A most suffocating heat reigned there.

"My prince, they have returned to the castle."

---

The next morning, Anne came to help you prepare for the second day of jousting. Although Nymor had lost, you made the decision to dress in the color of the house Martell, a few days before, the dornish prince had offered you a sumptuous dress of a vibrant yellow, suns were placed there in small golden touch, your décolleter flattered your chest in its cut, the bottom of the dress was long the almost invisible folds allowed to have amplitude in your movements. There were no long sleeves or short sleeves, just two strips of fabric running through your shoulders leaving them bare. Such a dress was rare at King’s Landing, almost non-existent, only people from Dorne or Essos wore it. You complimented your outfit with a golden jewel where your favorite gemstone was in the center and a golden bracelet decorate with a sixteen-pointed sun.

You were supposed to have breakfast with your parents and Nymor, but Anne’s arrival changed your morning plans somewhat. King Viserys and Queen Aemma wished to discuss at breakfast and added themselves to the table. It bothered you a little bit, but you breathe quietly, trying to relax before you leave your apartments.

In the hallway leading to the dining room, you met Nymor, her short and curly black hair was stylized in a natural way, her curls falling in harmony, her dark brown eyes were lightened by the rays of the sun, giving her an almost mystical look. The wounds on his face were barely visible, from a distance his olive skin was almost read, it is by approaching him to say hello that you saw the wounds. He was dressed in a pink tunic with finely detailed floral motifs, the borders of the tunic was decorated with another fabric, the color of a yellow ochre also covered with floral motif. Nymor wore a black leather belt, where straps held the sheath of his sword, fine chains were hanging decorating with golden sun. His pants were very dark brown, in a very resistant fabric. The prince took your hand and kissed you, before offering you his arm and continuing your way.

"Hello Y/n, you are most radiant."

"Hello Nymor, I return your compliment."

You smiled at the prince, your heart beating quickly, you felt a slight warmth rising in your body. Nymor’s sweet voice and her courtesy always managed to remove your sincere smiles. Daemon could do it, too, but you had to forget about it, the good of your home depended on it.

"In Dorne you will no longer need to have a knight. I will not let anything happen to you and the old palace is very nice and very well protected.”

Nymor looked behind you, casting a glance at Sir Gervesot, you gently shook your head, smiling in a corner, thinking that he had recovered from his pride. You did not have time to answer him that you arrived at the doors of the dining room, open, surrounded by two knights post to the guard. The interior was visible, you could see some serving finishing the preparations, the wine pitchers placed on the large table, Nymor looked at you, whispered sweet words to your ear before entering the room.

The dining room was lit by sunlight, a large window allowed to see the roofs of red orange tiles of the city of King’s landing. Tapestries were hung on the walls and carpets placed on the floor. Nymor had pulled your chair out of gallantry before sitting to your right. You placed one hand in his, waiting for the last guests to arrive.

It was first your parents who arrived, wearing the colors of your house, followed a few minutes later by the king and his wife. You got up at the king’s arrival, you let go of Nymor’s hand at that moment. The modesty that reigned in the castle contrasted with the words of several lords and even the king. Protocol was protocol, even though it might seem absurd to you.

---

The breakfast went without a hitch, Queen Aemma congratulating you on this future union, rejoicing in the complicity she had seen between you and Nymor. Viserys spoke much more with your father, talking about the wedding preparations, the wedding night, the future festivities related to future births. Your mother was talking to Aemma and Nymor, giving you a few glances. A few laughs were exchanged when Nymor recounted life at the Sunspear and the day when his little brother Qyle fell into the summer sea water escaping the nanny surveillance. If the atmosphere was warm, it quickly fell to the mention of a person.

King Viserys, between a sip of wine and a piece of lard, spoke in an unbearable tone.

"After your marriage, Daemon may finally leave you alone, Lady Y/n. Yesterday’s demonstration at the joust meant disproportional doubt." He stared at Nymor. "I’m sorry he behaved like that yesterday."

You put your right hand on Nymor’s left thigh, the prince’s touch reassured you. As for Nymor, he was tense, with a tight smile he thanked the king. You might have thought that everything that happened in the red keep was meant for you to think about Daemon, that it was the scrolls that were always present, that haunted you at night, the colors of the Targaryen house, the gardens and the library where you were often found alone and now the king himself.

The rest of the breakfast happened slowly for you, you are the only comfort being the looks of your mother and the presence of the prince of Dorne.

---

The birds were singing, the cries of the crowd came to see the continuation of the jousting tournament, made you smile slightly, your parents and you had resumed your places, Nymor had settled on the empty seat to your right. During the fighting, he spoke to you in the ear, gently caressing your hand, the fighting was intense, several knights from the noble houses of Dornes had managed to arrive there, your fiancé, explained to you what were his houses, Adding a few little gossip of all kinds, making you laugh part time. You also went on to explain the gossip coming from the corridors of the castle, explaining the noble or rare warrior reasons for their titles. Several nobles present in the bleachers opposite the royal bleachers, noticed the complicity linking you.

But your bubble was shattered upon the arrival of a knight his spear bearing your favor. Nymor shook your hand, watching the prince march to his starting point. Surprisingly, there was no look towards the stands, no smile. Just, A warrior ready to fight. His fighting style had not changed since the day before, he was always aggressive, maybe less than in his fight with Nymor, but enough to bring down most of his opponents on the first try.

His toughest opponent was a knight fighting for House Stark, both were falling off their horses and fighting with swords. The two knights had managed to make it to the final round and neither participant had decided to lose. The sword strokes were raping, pieces of armor were torn from where to sink, Daemon’s helmet had flown during an attack, miraculously for him without injuring him leaving his long silvery hair flying in the wind moving with a supple movement on each dodge.

His opponent rushed towards him, taking him by surprise, and he was thrown to the ground. While he wanted to give her a sword stroke, the knight gave her a blow in the wrist, the prince released Dark sister under a moan of pain.

On the ground, Daemon cast for the first time a glance towards the royal tribune. He saw Viserys staring at him, smiling in the corner. Otto focus on the fight without commenting on anything. Aemma worries about the turn of the duel. Dropping his gaze. He saw this prince of dorne right on his chair, watching him back. He saw you, your hand gripping the dornish, your outfit in the color of the Martell. Daemon felt her heart tighten, you wore the colors of your fiancer and you were most beautiful. Your whole body expressed how worried you were and Prince Targaryen hoped it would be for him. A last breath of bravery passed through him, he observed the knight above him, his head was hidden by his helmet but he could feel the perspiration of it. With a look of disgust, Daemon managed to get himself out of the grip of his opponent, took a dagger out of his belt, he planted the blade in the left thigh of his opponent, who screamed under the pain. Heart pounding, Daemon took advantage of this diversion to catch dark sister, he got up with difficulty, pointing his blade towards his opponent.

"Give up or I’ll kill you."

The knight looked at Prince Targaryen, he wanted to take the blade out of his thigh, but a high heart prevented it. It was after several seconds of thinking about his possibilities to regain control and defeat Daemon, that the knight dropped his arms, declaring forfeit.

The spectators began to howl, waving flags of various colours, many of them in the colours of the Targaryen house. The shouter (sort of animator) entered the arena, grabbing the prince’s wrist, he raised his arm and proclaimed that Prince Daemon was the great winner of this tournament.

On your side you were experiencing your own battle, your feelings were most confused, between the worry, the pride that he won the jousting tournament, but also the remorse to feel such emotions in destination of someone other than your fiancer. One of your legs was shaking, your breath was jerking and your hand was shaking Nymor’s hand with force. You thought it would end here, that you’d go back to the castle and just celebrate the end of the jousts. But it made sense to count on the winner’s reward. That reward you had forgotten.

Servants had approached the prince, holding a wooden box close. By opening it all could see case inside stood a crown of flowers, flowers from Essos, they were beautiful, they were rare flowers that grew on the edge of the great desert.

You thought Daemon would refuse the reward and leave without it. But he took off his gloves, gently lifting the crown, he spent two minutes watching it before looking towards the stands. The prince advanced calmly, holding the crown towards the stands. All the people in the royal stands hoped the prince would offer it to the queen.

"Lady Y/h/n, your favor has kept me lucky throughout these battles, I want to name you queen of love and beauty."

Your heart was pounding with disturbing force, you thought you had imagined this moment, a part of you hoped for it, but another much louder screamed to accept, to come down from the bleachers to congratulate him. You looked towards your parents who were staring at Daemon, then your gaze passed over Nymor who was stretched on his chair, you shook his hand, trying to get him back, he shook his head before looking at you. With a little smile he loosened his grip on your hand, inviting you to accept the prince’s gift.

It is hesitant that you rose, letting the bottom of your dress float in the wind, arriving at the railing, you knelt down to take the crown from Daemon’s hands. As your hands touched, a very light electric shock ran through you. Daemon took your hands in his.

"Don’t forget my words, Y/n, I love you, with a love I’ve never felt before. Give me a chance."

You stayed several minutes so, your hands touching, looking you in the eyes, his purplish gaze managed to hypnotize you and had much more strength than you had imagined in the screen. It was the king’s speech that separated you. In it he congratulated his brother for having won. But you listened only little to him. Disturbing to touch each other, words from the day before Daemon, to look at each other. You rose slowly, returning to your place, you placed the crown of flowers on your lap, although your mother urged you to wear it on your head. It was the look in the void and the misty thoughts, that you returned to the castle, to prepare for the great closing dinner of the jousts. You did not know if the prince was present by his banishment, but he was the victor, so it remained uncertain.

---

In your chambers, you waited for Anne, the crown place on the table to quote parchments of Daemon. These had become forbidden fruits, your body was attracted by the scrolls, your reason cried out to you not to read them, your hand stretched out towards the small pieces of parchment sealed with the acronym of Daemon, you could smell the smell of parchment so present in your room, some gave off very light smoke, your heart beat inconsistently.

If you couldn’t move on from her parchment scraps, you never could with Daemon. It was taking a deep breath that you went to lock your door before you started looking for the very first parchment, sorting them by age, this was not easy, but the yellowing of the parchment helped, it being darker when older.

This small parchment, was like the grail, or rather the single ring. Hesitant, trembling hands, gasping for breath, a hint of perspiration flowing from your forehead.

You opened it up.

Finding out what the prince had to say to you. Think you’re ready for what you’d read.

Oh, oh how wrong you were.

---

Tag list :

@avalyaaa