#daemon targaryen x rhea royce

[dragonbanexxi]

Soul of Bronze; Blood of Fire

Helaena Targaryen x OC Targaryen Royce

***!!!NOT CANON COMPLIANT!!!***

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The Heir of Runestone would often joke that he should be referred to as Rhaegar Stone. Seeing as his father (Prince Daemon Targaryen) had no want for him and his mother (Lady Rhea Royce) was long dead. All jokes end when he and Ser Gerold Royce are summoned to the capitol by none other than King Viserys the First of his Name. The King wanting nothing more than to bring his estranged nephew into the fold, Viserys offers Rhaegar his so called Targaryen Right. A betrothal to the Princess Helaena and the chance to claim a dragon. Will Rhaegar be able to claim such a beast? Even if his valyrian skills were lacking? Prince Aemond seems to think so. Though he’s mostly is just thrilled to finally have someone around who’s willing to be his friend. Also the court begins to notice that the Princess Helaena seems to have taken a liking to the new prince. Much to her mothers dismay, who’s fighting tooth and nail to have the girl be given to Aegon. Something neither sibling wanted. To Rhaegar everything was going smoothly until the news of Laena Velaryon death had dampen everything.

Chapter 21: Aemond

Blood still trickles out the Prince’s eye from time to time. Crimson liquid trailing slowly down the Prince’s alabaster cheek. In the most imprudent moment too. It just happens to be supper and the three princes were in the middle of the second course when Aemond’s injury decided to make its presence known.

Aemond was clutching the empty socket with his napkin, hissing in the slightest pain. The Velaryon boy staring in horror. His eyes reflecting something close to quiet guilt.

“Lucerys help your uncle to his quarters” Rhaegar commanded.

Aemond let out a growl in disagreement but it was ignored by his cousin.

“I’ll fetch Maester Hugh”

From Aemond’s good eye he could see his nephew’s hesitation. The brown haired boy seemed to be debating within himself how to approach his bleeding uncle.

“Well come on!” The Green Prince snaps “I’m getting dizzy!”

The small boy shuffles quickly to his uncles side, nimble fingers clutching onto his uncles clothed arm. Guiding him back to his quarters, they walked slowly and awkwardly through the grim stoney halls of Runestone. Thankfully for Aemond the pain had subdued greatly. No longer hurting as much as it did the first moon of hailing his injury.

His mama had wanted him to stay longer in King’s Landing until he was properly healed. The Queen’s only mistake was letting Aemond choose when to leave for Runestone.

He’d been over the moon when he learned of the proposition made for him to squire in the Vale. In Rhaegar’s home, under the tutelage of the seasoned knights. Former Knights of the Vale no less. Injury be damned he thought to himself, determined to leave along side his best friend Rhaegar.

The elation had soon worn out when his decaying father had “coincidentally” remembered that Rhaegar had also made that offer to Lucerys Velaryon. Aemond wanted scream and kick, through the most undignified hissy fit of his life. Yet he didn’t. He couldn’t act childishly anymore. Aemond was a dragon rider now. Not just any dragon but a war dragon. The Prince could no longer go about through court as misfit child. No he had to be a dignified young man. An honorable one. Like his cousin Rhaegar. Who carried the standards of chivalry and honor like tattoos inked deep into his skin.

Aemond wants to be just like him. Even if it meant he’d have to spend time in Runestone alongside his attacker.

Finally making it to Aemond’s chamber door, Lucerys manages to open the large wooden door.

“You can let go now” Aemond says stoically.

Lucerys nods, carefully letting go of his bleeding uncle. His pretty doe eyes filling with worry, his eyebrows scrunching. The boy gulps nervously. Aemond sits upon his comfy bed, and glares at his nephew when he realizes he still hasn’t left the room.

“I think about that night in Driftmark often” Lucerys says quietly and offhandedly.

Aemond still clutching his bleeding eye with his napkin, sneers at his nephew with one lilac eye.

“I don’t care”

“I know…” Lucerys says solemnly. “That night. It all happened so fast-“

“I don’t want to hear it.” Aemond cuts in harshly. “I don’t need to hear it! I was there Lucerys!”

Anger building up in the One Eyed Prince’s veins, threatening to overspill. Their rumble did happen so fast. Like Rhaegar said, words were said, punches were thrown and an eye was cut out. There’s no use in dwelling in yesterdays sorrows. Today is today, and tomorrow is another day. And Aemond would rather be damned in the deepest part of the seven hells than ever apologize for claiming Vhagar. She chose him! He’s proven himself to be just as much a dragon rider as anyone else in his family. Bonding with not just any dragon but with the Queen of all dragons herself. Vhagar had let him. HIM! Rhaena Targaryen would have to learn how accept her loss. Vhagar was never hers to claim. That fate was his and his alone.

“I’m sorry” the little prince whispers.

Leaving Aemond to dumbfounded to speak. He just stupidly sat on his bed with his mouth left slightly opened. Thankfully the conversation moved no further because Maester Hugh let himself in the chamber with Rhaegar right at his heel.

“Lie back my prince” the maester says with his huffy old man voice. ‘Tsk Tsk Tsk’ The old man shakes his head in disapproval.

“Who ever stitched your eyelid together boy did a foul job.” The old man threads his needle with a strand of fine horse hair.

“We’ll have to put a few more.” The old man turns to Rhaegar “My boy could you stitch in the dots I’m about to mark. These old hands aren’t as steady as they once were.”

“Of course Maester Hugh.” The raven haired prince wasted no time in closing the injury.

It was quite difficult to do since Aemond kept moving. Luckily for both of them, Aemond only needed three stitches in total.

“Ahh splendid job my lord!” Maester Hugh compliments his impromptu protogé.

“Have yourself about three goblets of wine Prince Aemond. It’ll help with the pain and bring sleep quicker to you.”

The Maester made his exit, biding the princelings a good night. The eldest of three moved a small table closer to where Aemond laid. Moving the princes books on a nearby chair.

“I’m having our dinner moved in here. I hope you do not mind cousin…”

“Not at all” Aemond chirps back. His anger still not completely soothed.

Lucerys still sitting silently in his seat, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

“I think I’ll head to bed…” he whispers.

“None sense Luke. You barely ate.” Rhaegar says with concern. “They’ll think I’m starving you if you return to Dragonstone all skin and bones.” He jokes lightly with a friendly smile.

“Come. Eat. Besides Ser Gerold invited us to have some ale with him after we’re done eating.”

The two squires miraculously share an eager smile and proceed to gobble their meals like hogs. A swift knock was heard at the door. Ser Gerold let’s himself in. Rhaegar’s uncle bearing a charismatic smile. Aemond felt it contagious and offered one of his own.

“Maester Hugh told me what happened” The seasoned knight says. “So I opted to bring the Ale to you lads.”

The three princes cheer happily.

“Now I’m only allowing you both a single goblet each”

Aemond and Lucerys nod excitedly. The man pours the yellowy liquid into the cups. The strong smell reaching their nostrils. While it wasn’t a bothersome smell, it wasn’t too pleasant either.

“Have you ever seen war Ser Gerold?” Little Lucerys asks the Bronze Man. Ser Gerold passes the goblets to his wards but nods in affirmation.

“Aye, I have little lad.”

The four give a quick cheers and chug their beverages. Aemond trying his best to not make a face ultimately fails, just as Lucerys.

“It gets better with practice.” Rhaegar reassures with an amused chuckle.

“I remember the time I had my first taste of ale. It was nothing like this one.” The older man said “It was a true ale brought from Winterfell.”

Taking a sip he continues with “I was about your age Prince Aemond, at the time the Lord of the Redfort was just a boy too, who happened to be warding with my uncle here at Runestone.”

The three princes paying close attention to Ser Gerold. If there was anything Aemond liked more than reading it was sitting and enjoying a good story.

“Lord Ashton Redfort, but at the time he was just little ash. He and I were like grease and water. Didn’t mesh well at all. Always trying to out spar each other in the courtyard. Trying to out ride each other on our horse. Hell even when it came to girls we had to compete who could out do who.” He laughs heartily.

“One day he dared me into stealing my fathers new bottle of Northern Ale. That foolish childhood rivalry had us in a stupid drinking contest. We finished that damn bottle and ended up so drunk we couldn’t even stand. In result we had left the sheep unattended and they wonder off deep into the forest. My uncle found us laying near the river all shitfaced and roared something ugly at us. Ashton had blamed me for the whole thing. When I tell you my uncle beat me bloody. Gods I couldn’t sit properly for a week straight. From then on I swore that Ashton Redfort would be my enemy for life.”

Aemond and Lucerys glance at each other but look away.

“Back to what you had asked earlier Little Prince. Aye war came to our shores here in the Vale a few weeks shy of my seventeenth nameday. The Ironborn had taken to reaving on our lands. Stealing anything they laid eyes on. Horses, sheep, lumber, even women. Their king, Stewart Greyjoy. Now that was an ugly fellow. Tall and brutish, looked like an ogre. The man had abducted a pretty maiden by the name of Elise Arryn daughter of the warden of the East. That was the last straw. Us Valeman bound together and ready ourselves for battle.”

Rhaegar still picking at his food, looked at his cousins who were listening so intently. Rhaegar had heard this story a million times but was happy they were enjoying it.

“Weren’t you afraid Ser Gerold?” Aemond asked inquisitively.

“I was scared shitless lad.” The older man admits without any shame.

“How can one be so brave but be scared at the same time?” Lucerys adds to the conversation.

“When your scared it’s the only time you can be brave.” Ser Gerold says wisely.

Both princes eyes light up. As if it spoke to both of them in a deep level.

“I remember me and few others jumped in on one of their wretched ships. Cutting down men with our swords as we moved forward, evading swings while at it. But I wasn’t as swift in maneuvering as I thought I was. You see the Ironborn are many things but they lack honor. It’s in their blood to fight dishonorably. One had ambushed me from behind and drove his sword through my side, kicking me when I was already down. I turned on my back to face the Ironborn who was about to kill me but before I could say anything a sword had been shoved through the back of his throat. Another man had saved my life.”

Now at the edge of their seats both boys began to ask excitedly who Ser Gerold’s savior was. The man smiled raising an arched brow.

“It was none other than Lord Ashton Redfort”

The Princelings both gasped like surprised maidens.

“But I thought he hated you?” Lucerys says confused.

“Aye perhaps at one time he did but all that is past us. He’s one of my truest friends now.”

“You were able to forgive each other?” Aemond says glancing at his nephew.

“Aye.” The older man said with a solemn smile. “I’ve come to understand that you learn who your real friends are in the battlefield.”

Aemond sees Ser Gerold stretch his arms with his one good eye. Observing how the Knight looked content with his answer. Oddly it had made his heart skip a painful beat.

“Well I think it’s time for me to call it a night.”

“Thank you for the story my lord” Aemond say graciously.

“Yes thank you!” Lucerys agrees.

“There’s plenty more to come” he says happily. “Plenty more.”

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My boys are about to begin their healing era! And Ser Gerold is going to be their biggest fan along the way! Lol

Thank you guys for all the support! I appreciate all of you! Comments are always welcomed!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[memswritesfics]

𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕦𝕕𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕝𝕪, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨. 𝕀𝕥'𝕤 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕔 𝕠𝕗 𝕓𝕖𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤…

I'll be with you

[maidragoste]

Thinking about Sea Dragon meeting Rhea Royce for the first time.

After you married Daemon you force him to take you to the Valley to give gifts to Rhea and apologize to her for marrying her husband and make the entire kingdom now talk about the three of you. You are surprised when you see her.

Y/n: You are beautiful

Daemon/Rhea: what?

Y/n: Rhea, you are beautiful! *hits Daemon* You said you'd rather be with a sheep than her. What's wrong with you? You're blind?

Daemon's karma is watching you and Rhea team up to irritate him. Besides hearing you refer to Rhea as "our wife"... At least you only do it when the two of you are alone.

[dragon-la]

Daemon Targaryen at his wife funeral

[infinitestalia]

Daemon Malewife Targaryen (Sept 2022-Oct 2022), brutally murders his innocent first wife by bashing her skull in; grooms his teenage niece, deliberately trying to destroy her honour so she's ruined for other men and then abandons her in a brothel; fucks said niece on the night of his second wife's funeral and then marries her before his second wife's bones have finished charring- and you have the nerve to be shocked that this geriatric nonce, who you decided was your internet boyfriend, isn't actually a good man?

Telling how none of his violence, neglect and hatred of women (sorry, whores/bitches) mattered until he raised a hand to Rhaenyra, the "exception". This has always been who his character is and is exactly in line with his portrayal all season. The man who kills women, abuses women. Who would have thought.

[targayrenss]

We Remember -Viserys Targaryen

pairing:Viserys Targaryen × Targaryen Oc

Content:Incest, Age-Gap

Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce if they managed to consummate their marriage, from that one time the twins Lyanna and Aemon Targaryen were born.

In their childhood, both twins were very loved by his parents, Daemon even tried to live healthy with his bronze dog so as not to fight in front of the children.

On his ninth name day, Daemon had to take his children to King's Landing, insisting that his children needed to learn about their dragons and his family.

Lyanna grew up with her cousin Rhaenyra who was only a year older than her, shortly after her arrival the hand of the king had to bring her daughter to the fortress to serve both as the lady of company of her

When the King decided to marry Alicent after Aemma Arryn's death, Lyanna and Rhaenyra began to have bad blood with the new queen.

Both avoiding her, Lyanna supported Rhaenyra for being angry with Alicent, she decided to betray her without caring a bit about her friendship.

But when the rumor about Rhaenyra and her father in Silk Street reached her, and days after her mother died mysteriously after her father's exile, it was breaking point for Lyanna.

She continued to feign friendship with Rhaenyra, comforting her when she was informed of her wedding to Laenor Velaryon, judging the queen together.

But Lyanna and Aemon have the perfect move to get back at Rhaenyra, and get Alicent Hightower off the board for once.

[hopemikaelsongf]

#the chokehold rhaenyra has on daemon

[kingsanddragonsandgods]

a/n: this is just the story preface, not yet chapter one. for this fanfic i am keeping mostly the book timeline, but there will be a little bit of show timeline further ahead.

it is a AU which blends aspects of book and show canons but is also a lot of headcanons. i am a bit of a history nerd, so there is bits inspired by real life historical events, i also drawn a lot of inspiration from medieval/renaissence royal courts to write how i imagine life at the Red Keep would be, most numbers i will use in this story are also taken from history (noble households, courtiers, armies, ships and crews etc), as are titles for functions an jobs that are not shown on the show or books. There are a couple of Original Characters that are going to be introduced over time, and a few canon characters that are barely mentioned or not seen at all on the show. additional information: I chose to keep the show's 'ages' for some characters, so, for the sake of the story: Viserys was born in 70 AC, Daemon in 74 AC, Rhaenys in 67 AC, and Aemma and Rhea share the year 76 AC.

word count: 2802

warnings: none for this chapter

“...Princess of Runestone, proved herself in her maiden voyage crossing of the Narrow Sea, six pirate ships gave chase as we crossed through the Stepstones, their inferior ships however were no match for our girl or to our brave crew. We had already sunk three carracks when they choose to surrender the remaining three after sighting Archonei descending upon them. We lock the surviving pirates in the holding cells, and seize their cargo, to my great surprise I was able to ascertain that the cargo on the ships once belonged to none other than the Sea Snake.”  Enya reads aloud the letter she received from Ser Orys, her half-brother, coming all the way from Lys, the first stop on his great voyage. “We intend to sell the cargo in Lys, Maester Aldus believes it will yield a great profit, at least 20-times Mother’s initial investment, it seems almost unbelievable that we are only on the first leg of the journey. Gods willing, my next letter home shall be sent from old Volantis. Tell Mother I miss her advice and our morning rides, as I miss your sweet face, and our daily flights. Send my love to everyone home and make sure that young Willam is dedicating himself to his training. Your loving brother, Ser Orys Stone…”  Her granddaughter finishes reading her the letter, folding it carefully and putting it inside the hard cover of the book she has next to her on the wheelhouse seat.

How the girl manages to read in the bouncing carriage is something that marvels her, she feels nauseous just watching it.

Elys would have much preferred to have made the journey by ship, but the early spring storms that plague the East Coast they didn't allow them to leave the safety of the harbour.

The lady wouldn't be making the trip if she could help it, she had just come out of mourning period for her dear husband, all she wanted was to be able to take the time to visit her daughters and spend time with her grandchildren before returning to Eyrie to resume supervising her niece's upbringing. But the beginning of spring means Visenya's relocation to the royal court in King's Landing, to spend the spring and summer with her father and paternal family.

Last time her granddaughter was at court was four years before the death of the Old King, whom she had served as cupbearer when he still had the mental faculties to attend the Council. She had been just a child then, the king's favourite great-granddaughter.

 Since then, she had blossomed into a stunning beauty, no longer a girl but not yet a woman, striking in that way that only those from the blood of the dragon are.

A beauty worthy of a crown.

A crown she had been promised as a child.

If the gods had been merciful, little Prince Aerion would have survived infancy and today he would be a boy of nearly three and ten, the heir to his father’s throne, betrothed to Visenya by the will of King Jaehaerys. But Aenar died in his cradle, followed by his little brother, Aelor, and two early miscarriages. And her granddaughter lost the her chance at the crown promised to her.

“Do you think Orys can one day surpass the feats of the Sea Snake?” Elys turns her head from the window to look at her granddaughter.

“He might,” Elys candidly admits, “Orys has advantages that Velaryon did not, Archonei being the greatest of them."

Elys had disagreed with her daughter's decision to raise the prince's natural son after the boy's mother died—Orys was, in Elys' opinion, the stain on her daughter's dignity, a bastard child her betrothed fathered on a Royce cousin of lesser consequence, during the feast celebrating the union between Houses Royce and Targaryen—as he grew, the boy proved her wrong in her reservations against him. He was as devoted to Rhea as he was to Visenya, respectfully calling her ‘Mother’ after asking permission to do so, loyal and honourable, dedicating himself to every life opportunity offered by his stepmother.

She would never forget his terror when Visenya's egg hatched in his hands, it was the day he won her over, he had tears in his eyes as he asked Rhea for forgiveness for hatching the dragon as it was not his intention, he went on to say that he had never coveted her sister's egg and that she could have the hatchling. Her daughter just laughed, kissing the boy's head and explaining that the dragon had chosen him.

Jaehaerys was not at all pleased with the accident when Rhea sent a letter informing him of what had happened. Daemon finally took an interest in the dark-haired boy Rowena birthed, flying to the Vale to see the dragon, taking it upon himself to have twenty dragonkeepers sent to Runestones.

“I hope he can accomplish it, for himself and for House Royce." Visenya says looking out the window, pulling back the curtains to get a better look, wrinkling her little nose at the stench that enters the carriage and allowing the curtain to fall closed again. “I had forgotten that the city smells so bad.”

“You better get used to it again." Elys passes a bag of scented salts to the young woman. “Tie it to your wrist, you can smell it when the stench gets too much.”

The slums around the city wall have grown considerably larger than Lady Elys remembered from her last visit so many years before.

People beg with outstretched hands on the road as they see the bronze wheelhouse pass by.

It's a sad sight.

The lady sighs before pulling the small dark wooden chest out from under the bench under Visenya's curious eyes. She takes out a heavy bag of coins and pushes the chest back with her foot, hiding it with her skirt. She signals with her hand for any of the knights escorting them to approach the window. Willam Royce, her nephew by marriage, Gunthor’s youngest boy, and Leofric Corbray squire, is the one to come to her.

She contains a smile as she sees the boy blush when he notices Visenya's curious gaze on him.

It's no secret that the boy is sweet on little Enya—just like half the boys of similar age in Runestone—in another life he would be a good match for the future Lady of Runestone, Willam is handsome, with dark curls and blue eyes, and will probably grow up to be a tall, handsome man, and appease everyone in the family that the next heir would retain the surname Royce without the need for major manoeuvres.

“Lady Aunt." He greets her with a nod, keeping his horse's gallop in sync with the carriage. “My princess.”

Visenya just smiles at him, looking at him from beneath her lashes, which only makes him blush more.

“Willam, my sweet, be a dear and hand out these coins to the people." She passes the heavy bag into his hand.

The squire just nods again, looking once more at the Targaryen princess before doing as his aunt asked of him.

Once he is away and the curtain is closed again, Elys lets out the laugh she forced herself to hold in, lightly slapping her granddaughter's knee in reprimand.

“Shameless flirt!” The Dowager Lady of Runestone pointed her finger at the girl.

“I have to train for court life, don't I?" Visenya says with a naughty tone. “I'm of marriageable age, I have to charm all the beautiful second sons, have them all at my feet asking for my hand, there is no better opportunity than during a season at court.”

A beauty of beauties in all the Seven Kingdoms, if not in all the Known World.

Visenya is slender, nymph-like of body, with very pale white skin dotted with golden freckles—the only inheritance from Rhea in her appearance—, plump lips and pretty pearly teeth, a neat nose, and large eyes of an unusual bluish-lilac shade. Her hair is a beautiful flaxen, a few shades lighter than Elys own, curled and long—she's not sure her granddaughter's hair was ever cut more than a little trim at the ends—now ribboned for practicality during the travel.

Elys remembers vividly the Good Queen Alysanne carrying the baby in her arms during her anointment commenting that little Visenya reminded her of Viserra, the most beautiful of her daughters, in appearance.

“Be careful child, you don't want a reputation, especially in the Red Keep."

“I can be discreet." The girl winks at her grandmother amid giggles.

The wheelhouse takes a while to cross the city from Dragon's Gate to the Red Keep, the guards escorting it thought it better to go around Fleabottom than through it. Especially with the four glitzy wheelhouses carrying the noblewomen and their ladies-in-waiting, and the wagons with their belongings coming right behind, with things that attract the attention of the wrong kind of people.

Their retinue arrives at the Red Keep midday.

There is quite a crowd waiting to receive them. The standard-bearers stop between the carriage and the people waiting, proudly carrying the banners of Houses Targaryen, Royce and Arryn, and the Princess of Runestone personal crest: a pearlescent white dragon with the halved shield with the crests of Royce and Arryn between its claws in a black field with bronze runes around the border.

“Princess Visenya of House Targaryen, heir of Runestone.” The Herald announces her granddaughter, as a guard opens the wheelhouse door for them. “Her Lady Grandmother, Lady Elys of House Arryn, Dowager Lady of Runestone.”

Elys arranges the balzo on top of Visenya's head and centres the small jewel on her forehead, pinching her cheek for a healthy blush before the girl pushes back the linen curtain and leaves with the assistance of a Kingsguard guard.

The lady fixes her own skirt before leaving the wheelhouse behind her granddaughter.

The first person she notices is the Queen, her younger sister, in the light blue silks of her paternal House.

A chill runs down her spine as she looks at her sister.

Despite her Targaryen blood through her mother, Princess Daella, in appearance Aemma is an Arryn, with pale sandy hair, an aquiline nose and light blue eyes. Aemma is only eight and twenty, a few months older than her Rhea, however, she looks like a woman nearly to Elys own age.

She looks emaciated, haggard…sick. The Stranger follows her closely. Her youngest sister would not survive a full-term pregnancy and childbirth, it surprised Elys even that she had lived until this moment, with so many failed pregnancies and increasingly long and painful periods of recovery.

Beside her, giving her his arm for support, is Viserys, the King of the Seven Kingdoms, dressed in silk damask of gold and Tyrosh-purple, his grandfather’s crown upon his brow, looking more youthful and healthier than his younger wife. His silver-gold hair is kept short, following southern fashion which has a great Andal influence, he also sports a silver-gold moustache, so thin and pale it almost disappears on his face.

He is a handsome man, but pales in comparison to his dashing younger brother, especially when the two are side by side.

“Your Graces.” Visenya makes a perfect curtsy to the King and Queen and stands as if the castle belongs to her.

The couple is smiling at the young woman with indulgence.

“You have grown beautiful Visenya.” The king says, his eyes fixed on his niece.

Elys recognizes the expression on his face.

Like any woman who was once young and desired, she recognizes the almost obscene expression when older men look at women young enough to be their daughters and imagine themselves as young as their sons.

 The look on a man's face when he lusts after a woman old enough to be his daughter, and who he knows he shouldn't desire.

“Thank you, Your Grace."

“Just stating the truth my dear." In a gallant gesture, the king kisses his niece's hand.

“Brother, stop holding up the line!” The prince’s impatient voice interrupts, causing the King to take his covetous eyes away from his young niece.

Prince Daemon is a tall man, only a few centimetres shorter than his older brother, he keeps his silvery hair long, following the fashion of Old Valyria.

Unlike Viserys's ostentatious clothes, Elys good son is dressed in all black leather, well cut and elegant, but infinitely more subtle than the rest of the court. He carries Dark Sister around his waist, and his only ornament is the livery collar that marks him. as a member of the Small Council and Master of Coin.

Visenya smiles and turns to her father making a new curtsy. “Lord Father.”

“Little dragoness.” There is a smile on the prince's face, he has his hands on his only daughter's shoulders, despite being considered a tall young woman, Visenya looks small next to her father. He puts his forehead to hers, saying something that only she hears, and then kisses her cheek.

“Sister." Elys takes her eyes off the reunion between father and daughter and approaches her sister with her hand outstretched.

“My queen." In a gesture of deference, Elys kisses her sister's pale hand and offers a profound curtsy. “Your Grace.” She bows her head to her good brother.

“Lady Elys, it is good to have you at court again." Viserys says amiable. “I am sure your sisters missed you dearly." He looks at Aemma with a smile and at Lady Amanda Redfort born Arryn, standing next to the queen. “Let's give them time to rest from the road, later we shall have a welcome feast.” The king announces to the court members present, taking the queen's hand in his and guiding her into the castle.

Prince Damon follows them, his arm around his daughter's shoulders, and head tilted toward her as they continue their private conversation. One by one the courtiers follow them, even her ladies and her granddaughter's, Elys nods for them to enter, until only Amanda and her remain in the courtyard.

“How bad is she?"

Amanda approaches until the two are face to face, she looks to the side for a moment, making sure there is no one else around.

Her younger sister, like herself, maintains a youthful appearance, even as they have both now seeing past their forty years of age. It comes with their Upcliff blood, their mother died young, not even thirty years old, yet she still had the appearance of a woman half her age.

Amanda inherited her colouring, beautiful red-gold hair, and blueish grey eyes like a stormy sea.  

“The Maestre has already recommended that she not try to get pregnant again after the last miscarriage, she had a difficult time recovering, almost a year," Amanda informs her, there is concern in her eyes “now she is once again with child, and it is taking a toll on her. I don’t believe she will live to see the child.”

“The child will not be born." Lady Elys declares it like a sentence. She can feel it.

 “There is more." Amanda says. “The Small Council has been hinting that he should set her aside, that he should marry a queen who can bear him heirs.” She lowers her tone, tilting her head toward her sister. “There are rumours that His Grace had a bastard boy with a courtesan, and he might be discreet, but I know for sure that there are mistresses.”

“Does Aemma knows?”

“I believe so.” She nods. “They are, however, ladies of little consequence, barely noble, daughters of second and third sons, some not even that, daughters of knights and rich merchants,” Amanda explains, “His Grace has a king’s an appetite and a queen constantly bedridden who clearly does not meet his needs.”

“Hm.” It's the only reaction Elys gives.

A tale old as time, men will be men, even the best of them.

Viserys may be gentle and amiable, but he was always a man of appetites, and pious Aemma was never an ardent lover.

Elys blames the Good Queen for her precocious marriage and sheltered upbring, Aemma was just a girl, still playing with dolls.

The marriage was not consummated before her four and tenth nameday, and until then Viserys would entertain himself with whores and courtesans usually in the company of his brother and half a dozen favourites.

“We shall have to stay alert to whom he takes to bed." Elys says, linking her arm with her sister's and directing her into the castle.

“What happens if she dies or is put aside?"

Then perhaps Visenya will have the crown she was promised. And we might yet have a king of our blood on the Iron Throne.

[sihtriggyr]

@ hotd show runners

[florisbaratheons]

Weird...

I cannot stand Daemon. But I suddenly want a fic where he and Rhea do manage to have a child, but they are conveniently trying to bump each other off Mr. and Mrs. Smith style.

Daemon is trying to off Rhea because he wants to claim her lands in her son's name. Rhea is trying to off Daemon because then her son becomes the heir to the Iron Throne. But the problem is he is never away from Caraxes so she cannot do so. And Daemon cannot kill Rhea with Caraxes, he'd get found out in a second.

[dragonbanexxi]

Soul of Bronze; Blood of Fire

****Not canon compliant!!!!****

Helaena Targaryen x OC Targaryen Royce

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Heir of Runestone would often joke that he should be referred to as Rhaegar Stone. Seeing as his father (Prince Daemon Targaryen) had no want for him and his mother (Lady Rhea Royce) was long dead. All jokes end when he and Ser Gerold Royce are summoned to the capitol by none other than King Viserys the First of his Name. The King wanting nothing more than to bring his estranged nephew into the fold, Viserys offers Rhaegar his so called Targaryen Right. A betrothal to the Princess Helaena and the chance to claim a dragon. Will Rhaegar be able to claim such a beast? Even if his valyrian skills were lacking? Prince Aemond seems to think so. Though he’s mostly is just thrilled to finally have someone around who’s willing to be his friend. Also the court begins to notice that the Princess Helaena seems to have taken a liking to the new prince. Much to her mothers dismay, who’s fighting tooth and nail to have the girl be given to Aegon. Something neither sibling wanted. To Rhaegar everything was going smoothly until the news of Laena Velaryon death had dampen everything.

Chapter 16: Rhaegar Driftmark PT. 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the dinner fiasco, the whole of Driftmark’s court was summoned to the great hall. Rhaegar’s anger had not completely died down. Yet he would act civilly and try not to have another lapse in character. He had dishonored Runestone greatly and had dishonored himself even more. Though a small part of his ego terrified him that the sound of his sires bones cracking had pleased him immensely. It felt good to get vindication. Even if it a small amount.

The tension in Driftmark’s great hall could be sliced with a dagger.

Rhaegar stood next to Aegon and Helaena. The three of them staring in horror at Aemond. He’s been mutilated by the hands of Lucerys Velaryon. The maester inspects the young prince diligently with skillful fingers.

“Jace?” The Crowned Princess voice is heard entering the hall, “LUKE!” She yells as she sees that state of her second born son, kneeling down to his level. She mutters at him to show her his nose. “Who did this?” Rhaenyra asks out in the open.

“They attacked me!” Aemond responds.

“He attacked Baela!” Jacaerys yells back.

The hall erupts into chaos. The blame flicking back and forth from the two parties of squabbling children. The King looks down at his feet with a defeated sigh while his brother leans against the door.

Rhaegar locks eyes his with his sire. The Rouge Prince smiles cockily at his son causing Rhaegar to sneer.

“Enough” the king says. Neither Rhaenyra nor Alicent pay any heed.

“Enough” he says a little louder.

“It is my son who should be telling the tale!” Alicent screams out.

“He called us-“ Jace begins but couldn’t finish because the lost his patience.

“SILENCE!” Viserys roars.

All eyes fall onto their monarch, staying quiet as he hobbled down to his son.

“Aemond I will have the truth of what happened, now.” The kings second son stays quiet and his mother interferes.

“What else is there to hear? Your son has been maimed and her son is responsible.”

“It was a regrettably accident” Rhaenyra counters back.

“Accident?” The Queen’s voice filled with incredulity. “The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush. He meant to kill my son”

Aegon and Rhaegar share a look of reluctance.

“It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves” The Princess put a protective hand on Lucerys shoulder.

“Vile insults were levied against them!” She snarls slightly.

“What insults?” The King asks his daughter.

“The legitimacy of my sons birth was put loudly to question”

“what?”

“He called us bastards” Jacaerys says quietly.

The whole room grows eerily silent. Rhaegar felt his blood run cold. If that was the truth Aemond could face serious consequences for speaking brashly. Rhaegar doesn’t think he could be able to win against a seasoned knight in a trial by combat. But he’d certainly try. If it meant Aemond was kept safe.

“My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne your grace this the highest of treasons.” The Princess says clutching her son. “Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders.”

The Queens eyes fill with unshed tears “Over an insult? My son has lost an eye”

“You tell me boy” the King looks down at his mutilated son “where did you hear this lie?”

“The insult was training yard bluster. The lot of boys. It was nothing” the Queen stales, and is ignored by her kingly husband.

“Aemond I asked you a question”

“Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder the boys fathers… perhaps he might have something to say on the matter” the Queen glares at her stepdaughter and husband.

“Yes where is Ser Laenor?” The King asks as well.

Rhaegar notices the small panic cross his cousins Rhaenyra’s eyes.

“I do not know your grace. I… could not find sleep, I’d gone out to walk.”

The Heir of Runestone saw clearly through the Princess’s bullshit. Rhaegar saw that she and the Rouge Prick entered to the hall together. With disheveled hair no less. He feels Helaena’s hand squeeze his gently. And he engulfs hers completely in a protective manner.

Her grace the queen pursed her lips before saying “entertaining his young squires I would venture.” Off to the side an amused Ser Criston Cole snorts quietly to himself as his queens comment.

“Aemond look at me” the King begins his questioning anew. Aemond glared his sole lilac eye at his sire. “Your King demands an answer, who spoke these lies to you?”

The young prince flicks his eye at his mother causing the King to look back at his Queen.

Helaena digs her nails into Rhaegar’s skin painfully, but the juvenile doesn’t even flinch. Mentally preparing himself if Aemond is to be taken by guards.

“It was Aegon” Aemond murmurs.

“Me?” The firstborn son squeeks. Aegon’s face filling with fear.

“And you boy” the King makes his way to Aegon. “Where did you hear such calumnies?”

The prince stand stills, not daring to utter a word.

“AEGON!” The King yells in the frighten princes face. “Tell me the truth of it?”

“We know father” he says lowly “everyone knows. Just look at them.”

They dare not speak. Rhaenyra holds her father’s gazes. Rhaegar sees the hidden fire in the king erupt like a volcano.

“This interminable infighting must cease!” Viserys stomps his cane to the ground enunciating his point. “All of you! We are family!”

“Now make your apologies and show good will to one another. Your Father, Your Grandsire, Your Uncle, YOUR KING DEMANDS IT!”

Giving Aemond on last disappointed look, his grace makes to exit the hall. Rhaegar sees the queens gazes following the kings departing frame.

“That is insufficient” she says for all to hear. “Aemond has been damaged permanently my king, good will, cannot make him whole.”

The turns back to face his distressed wife.

“I know Alicent but I cannot restore his eye”

“no because it’s been taken”

“what would you have me do?” He says exasperated.

“There is debt to be paid” their eyes locked fiercely. “I shall have one of her sons eyes in return” The Queen gazes now landing on Rhaenyra.

Murmurs and whispers breaking through great hall in panic.

“My dear wife”

“he’s your son Viserys, your blood” her voice desperate.

“Do not allow your temper to guide your judgement.”

“If the king will not seek justice the queen will” Her grace stand up taller lifting up her chin “Sir Criston bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon”

“Mother” the little princeling panics. Rhaenyra shields her son, and Lord Corlys Velaryon puts a protective hand on the boys shoulder.

Rhaegar sees the White Cloak hesitate.

“He can choose what eye to keep. A privilege he did not grant my son”

“You will do no such thing!” The Princess Rhaenyra says authoritatively.

The King look at the knight “Stay your hand” he commands.

“No you are sworn to me!” Alicent says with a burning rage.

“As your protector my queen” Ser Criston says solemnly looking at his lord commander the whole time.

“Alicent this matter is finished” the kings hisses “do you understand?”

Finally the queens tears shed. Rhaegar feels for the Queen Alicent and for the Princess Rhaenyra. Both women stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“Let both the Prince Aemond and the Prince Lucerys squire in Runestone.” Rhaegar says loudly catching the attention of his Kingly uncle.

“Nephew-“

“Let them squire along side each other in a neutral place so that a brotherhood can be forged.” Rhaegar’s voice diplomatic.

Both the Queen and the Princess Rhaenyra begin to glare the Heir of Runestone.

“We will speak more of this tomorrow Prince Rhaegar” the king’s eyes softening for his only nephew. He walks away slowly. Yet turns around with harden eyes once more.

“And let it be known, ANYONE whos tongue dares question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons, shall have it removed”

That caused his heirs eyes to brighten. With a genuine relieved voice the princess says “Thank you father”

The kings begins to exit once more.

The Queen oddly quiet with small tears streaking down her lovely face.

With a shocking speed her grace unsheathed her husbands dagger.

“ALICENT” the kings yells.

“Hold your ground!” The Lord Commander yells.

The Queen lunges towards the Princess, with quick reflexes Rhaenyra was able catch on grip on the Queens armed hand. Prince Lucerys screams in terror.

“Stand down Ser Criston” the White Cloak had followed his Queens lead. Prince Daemon moves quickly to stop the Dornishman. Yet was surprised when he felt a push on his chest. Rhaegar had come in between the two men blocking them from each other. The two King’s Gaurd knight grabbed hold of their brother while Rhaegar and Daemon locked eyes. Prince Daemon smiled devilishly at his son enjoying the hateful glint Rhaegar’s eyes held.

“You’ve gone to far!” The Princess spits out glancing at the dagger pointed above her head.

“I? What have I done but was expected of me?” Alicent cries out “forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law. While you flaunt your duty as you please!” She accuses her once best friend.

“Alicent let her go!” The king says commands.

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again”

“Release the blade Alicent!” The Lord Hand orders his daughter to no avail.

“And now you take my sons eye and to even that you feel entitled.”

“Exhausting wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness.” She then whispers “but now they see you as you are”

The queen pushes her stepdaughter back roughly slicing alabaster skin in the process. Everyone staring in quiet shock as crimson blood runs down the Princess’s arm.

The dagger falls from the Queen’s hand. Aemond gives his mother a look of grief.

“Do not mourn me mother” all eyes fall the one eyed prince. The boy turns to face his eldest sister “it was a far exchange. I may have lost an eye but I gained a dragon”

“this proceeding is at an end” The king says once and for all.

Rhaegar pushed his sire back harshly. Both unsure of how to move forward.

Prince Daemon gives a mocking bow to his son makes his way to Rhaenyra. Putting a protective hand on her and her son.

The hall was split in two. With only Rhaegar left in the middle. Gods have mercy on them all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And we’re back!!! Thank you guys for your patience! ❤️ This meds I’m on are really fucking with me. I’ll have waves of productivity but then will crash in bouts disheartening lack of motivation. I feel like I need to get off them.

Comments are always welcome!! ❤️

[burning-daylight]

laena and rhaenyra this, laena and rhaenyra that. yes, i love them but have you considered… laena and rhea??!?!! two of d@emon’s badass wives. i need more of them.

[eschercaine]

King Viserys passed away mysteriously. The Iron Throne had stabbed him before he could resolve the matter of succession.

The younger brother of the king, Prince Daemon, who was ousted for seeking Rhaenyra’s hand in marriage, returned to Westeros to find vipers governing the kingdom in the name of their new king: a two-year-old child. His dear niece was held captive in her own home after having been betrayed by her trusted knight, Ser Criston Cole.

He has never believed in sorceries, yet there he was – wielding such power he gained after years of studying alongside warlocks and shadowbinders during his exile – effortlessly slaughtering a troop of knights by himself while Caraxes takes care of the rest.

If anything happens to Rhaenyra… Daemon will make his enemies regret they were ever born.

[dragon-la]

Me talking about Daemon Targaryen since ep1:

[lady-phasma]

He was only 16 and she was presumably a similar age (it's not stated in the book), so if it were smut-heavy those parts would be post-18 years old. They were married almost 20 years! (I have so much brain rot!)

[memswritesfics]

I'll Be With You

Summary: Did Daemon wish to abandon his wife never to give a sh*t about her ever again? Did Rhea think she would have to endure this treatment from her absentee Lord husband all her life? Would they ever find a way to live without having to deal with one another?

Or would fate change in the blink of an eye and somehow bring them closer together despite their painful past?

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen & Rhea Royce

Set after the stepstones battle, this is the first part of an AU series that explores what could have been between Daemon and Rhea. This is also loosely based on an ongoing AU roleplay with my friend angree_baratheon over on AO3 and I've written it with slight variations here and there. 

Chapter 1: Duty and Honour

Rhea had made an effort to avoid being around while he was indecent. Especially whenever the maester insisted that the prince should take a bath. Which was something he had considered necessary for two reasons. First, it was a means to shed his fever body sweat. And second, it gave Maester Purell a chance to inspect the wounds that the prince had gained from his battle at the Stepstones. Purell had informed the lady of the Runestones that her lord husband's wound had finally been able to close properly after days of it not doing so and that the effects of infection had also significantly reduced as well. Now it seemed that whatever fevers would happen would not be as bad nor as life-threatening as the days they had just passed.

This was a relief to Rhea. Because even if she did not have much fondness for her lord husband, she did not wish him dead either. It also meant that she would not have to be a widow. She was going to ignore the fact that their marriage was as good as dead for now and simply rejoice that her husband was going to live. The maester then added that the fatigue of having to fight off his infection for the past weeks and the bouts of fever he had suffered these nights was unlikely to leave any time soon. He also proceeded to advise her that the prince should remain strictly on bed rest. At least until his appetite was to return or the wound to his flank -- which had been the source of his concern -- was too close.

She was glad to know that at least he was not at risk of having his guts fall out of him. Or even worse, have them turn black and in threat of decaying away while the rest of him was still alive leaving him in a state of agonising life until he well, eventually did die. His guts were fine. His muscles were intact. And sure, he had several scars from gashes and burns but none of them had been as life-threatening as this wound that had given the maester much trouble in healing. She had heard of the manner in which her husband had conducted himself. As though he were a one-man army sent to rain hell on Craghas Drahar of Myr and his men. And how he had ultimately marched into the cave himself and slew the Crabfeeder with his mighty sword Dark Sister.

If one thing was certain about Daemon Targaryen, it was that he could be a fearsome force to be reckoned with when he so chose. She was well acquainted with that side of him. Well, at least the watered-down version of it anyway. Since they had been at each other's throats from the time they had been wed, he was ten and six while she was a year younger.

Much to Rhea's scruple, she had opted not to correct the maester in his thinking that she had absolutely any authority over her husband's state when she really didn't. If he were awake right then she knew he wouldn't want her here much less giving her opinions about what was right for him and what wasn't. She was simply here because she needed to be. Out of her sense of duty of being his wife. That was all it was. Or at least it was what she had told herself since she had been raised in this manner. To honour her duties no matter how unfavourable they might have seemed.

Rhea sighed as she sat down by the table full of reports and missives she had been working on since her arrival. She couldn't help but think about their past and how they had ended up in this current situation. It wasn't just the fact that they had been forced into this marriage, but also how Daemon had treated her over the years. She had tried to make it work, in the beginning at least. But as the months and years went on and his negligence became apparent. It seemed that no matter what she did, he would always find something to criticize or belittle her for. Rhea remembered the countless times he had insulted her looks, her intelligence, and even her family. It was as if he enjoyed making her feel small and insignificant.

But as she looked at him now, lying in his bed, weak and vulnerable, Rhea couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity. Maybe he wasn't as invincible as he had always made himself out to be. Maybe, just maybe, he needed her help now. Rhea shook her head, pushing the thought away. She couldn't afford to be naïve. She had seen how he had treated her before, and there was no guarantee that he would change. No, she had to stay strong, for her own sake.

As she got up from her seat, Rhea made a mental note to speak to Maester Purell about any further developments in Daemon's condition. She needed to stay informed, especially if she was going to take care of him. It wasn't something she wanted to do, but it was the right thing to do. For now however, she needed to take care of herself. She didn't wish to grow ill while looking after him since it wouldn't do either of them any good.

With a heavy heart, Rhea left the prince's tent, closing the flap softly behind her.

When she had returned several hours later, it had not been her intention to go in so soon since she was aware her husband had completed his daily bath and examination. But to her surprise, he was standing there. He was actually standing instead of lying in bed as he'd been these past days.

But he was standing and in only his breeches. his white wet hair cascading in droplets over the width of his exposed chest. She was taken aback by his appearance and did not instantly pull her gaze away or excuse herself from the chamber. Instead, her attention was drawn to the partially healed scars on his shoulder and chest, as well as the infected wound.

Rhea swallowed, recognising once more that her husband was a magnificent warrior: such strength, power, and tenacity to survive - like weeds, she thought blandly to herself. She grew more and more bitter as he came closer, invading her space as she found him suddenly drawing closer and then... he kisses her. Suddenly, and out of nowhere with no room to deny it was happening. And without any space where either of them could've played pretend.

To say that she was surprised would have been quite the understatement. Particularly given how her expression appeared to be so very telling of the feelings she currently had whirling inside her. Her mouth having fallen agape as her eyes stared at him in utter disbelief. Was this truly happening? She was more than aware that she hadn't been the one suffering a fever all these past weeks but right then she did feel extremely hot and feverish. What was this? How was this even happening? Was he in his right mind? So many questions raced through her mind while she stood frozen in her spot simply staring blankly at him. Knowing that she hadn't kissed him back. The last time she had was a brief peck on their wedding day that could hardly be constituted as a kiss and certainly wasn't anything like what was just happening But then gingerly, hesitatingly, and quite demurely not in the least all at once.

She found herself moving herself closer to him and actually reciprocating. Not eagerly nor boldly, no. But tentative in nature. Enough that she was sure he would've felt the pressure of her returning the kiss. She was being rather careful with her hands however and where she placed them. Trying not have them anywhere near his wounds. There was certainly no need to have a repeat of the last few days. She settled for settling them near his hips instead, but even then, her touch was featherlike, and barely there. Feeling too hesitant, that she couldn't touch him. She will always feel like she was not welcomed when it came to him. He had taught her that, after all.

When they finally part, a small, demure sigh is released from lips of the lady of Runestone. It had escaped her before Rhea could hold it back between her teeth, her tongue darting at the suspicious taste of him. She resisted the temptation to touch her lips like a young, inexperienced maiden who had just been kissed for the very first time. And as her brown eyes are slow to open, slow to take in the flickers from her lord husband's mouth to his own piercing eyes. She squints, watching him like with great scrutiny, before finally deciding to speak and in a whisper, she let her question be heard.

' You must have mistaken me for someone else, my lord husband. I'm afraid I am not your whore. '

----------------------------------------------------------

A nice, long soak was exactly what he had needed after days of being stuck in bed with a high fever that had made him far too ill for far too long. But now that he was on his own two feet once again, he certainly did not want to return to being an invalid. At least not by choice anyway. A bath had been the first course of action to rid himself of the misery of the past few several days although he wasn't certain exactly for how long he had been unconscious. He simply assumed it was a few short days.

However, if there was one not-too-bad thing that had come from all this, it was how devotedly his wife had sat by his bedside for most of his nights. At times, he wasn't even sure if it was really her or just an apparition. Because there was no way she would be tending to, was there? In the times he found himself waking in a delirious dream like state, he had often found her there. Sitting beside him. Or at the table. But she had been there. Never leaving him. It wasn't until he had finally risen that those visions returned to him like a flood of unbidden memories. Leaving him bewildered, in awe and quite curious even.

Yet, it wasn't until when he saw her come into his chambers right then. That his mind immediately realized that all of those vision were not a fever dream after all. She was actually here. And curiously enough, she was caring for him as well. Despite the way he had treated her all these years. Which he was more than aware had been the most unfavourable of manners. Except to say that he was not moved, in that very moment would have been quite the understatement.

And it was exactly why without much warning or thought, he had moved closer to her, pulled her chin up towards him and just kissed her. Not because he had seen her walk in on him in a state of undress and still wet from his bath. And not because he had caught the way her eyes roamed over the span of his naked chest and he could see the lack of shyness and even admiration. It was mostly because he had actually and truly wanted to kiss her. Even if he knew he would be surprising her, but he didn't really mind nor care for that in that moment. Nor did he think she would push him away either.

And she hadn't.

Curiously enough, she had even returned his kiss in the most softest of manners that made him wonder why he hadn't done this before. Except he knew exactly why he hadn't, and he was in no mood to go down that path tonight. No, absolutely not tonight. He wished to stay in this moment, to take in that subtle yet pleasing gasp he had stolen from those soft lips and that hesitant, barely-there manner with which she touched him, as though she were trying not to get burned by him. Burned by his cruelty and his dismissive ways all these years. Along with all the things that made him who he was to her - the husband who had abandoned her for the years of their marriage.

In that very moment, as he kissed her, nothing else mattered. And all that he allowed his thoughts to roam over were how she was responding to him right then. Soft, she was soft. Softer than he remembered. But then again, when had been the last time? When they were much younger, much more ill at ease, and he had been much less willing to accept this forced-upon-him union. And yet, here they were. And here he was now, gingerly cupping her cheek as his lips were warm against hers. The movement was soft, slow, and gentle, as if he had all the time in the world. And they could pretend that they did, if only for this moment. Perhaps even for tonight. If he could be selfish enough to wish it so.

He would have wanted it go on for a while longer. Until she pulled away and brought them both back to their uncomfortable reality with her words of hurt that were more than obvious to him. It was expected from her. He had hurt her for far too long. It would have been foolish of him to think she would forget all that with simply one kiss. But strangely enough he found himself wishing that he could try to change things, and he was actually going to. Change how things were between them. He found himself suddenly filled with a newfound determination.

‘ But I wasn't mistaken at all, wife. I know who you are, and I still kissed you. And you kissed me back. Would you let us continue, or are you going to walk away from me? ‘