daenyzz

[daenyzz]

The Great Viking and his Silver Slave

Summary — Elaena is the last descendant of a dragon empire and lives as a slave to Ragnar, with whom she has a relationship that makes Aslaug jealous. She has two dragon eggs, one black and scarlet and the other white and golden. When the eggs threaten to hatch, the possibility of the dragons' return arises, bringing new hopes and challenges to Elaena.

Author's Note — Hey there! I made this imagine Ragnar x Daenerys!Fem!Oc, I called the Oc Elaena, but you can change her name. I thought of it as a one-shot, but maybe I'll make a part two.

Warning — Slavery written superficially, and female rivalry if you consider it a trigger.

Word Count — 1.189 words.

It was a cold morning in the Norse lands, where mist rose from the seas and the mountains stood like silent sentinels. Ragnar Lothbrok, the famous Viking conqueror and leader, was in his settlement in Kattegat, where life pulsed with the energy of warriors and traders. But unlike the usual bustle, there was an air of expectation that permeated the place. A new presence had arrived.

Elaena was an ethereal figure, her long blond hair shining like the silver moon, while her violet eyes reflected a deep melancholy. She was the last seed of a great dragon empire that had fallen from grace, and now she was in Ragnar's care. The only possession she possessed were two black and silver dragon eggs, one adorned with intricate red detailing and the other in gold, bearing the weight of her lost heritage.

Ragnar watched Elaena with a mixture of fascination and curiosity. He knew she was no ordinary slave; there was something magical about her, something that sparked his imagination and ambition. Aslaug, his lawful wife, watched her jealously, but Ragnar felt an inexplicable connection with Elaena. She represented everything he did not have – a glorious past and an uncertain future.

The days passed amidst battles and festivities, but Ragnar always found time for Elaena. They met in the evenings, away from the prying eyes of the village. He told her stories of his conquests and adventures, while she told him about the stories her ancestors had lived, filled with dragons and fire. With each meeting, the bond between them grew stronger, but also more complicated.

Aslaug could not bear the thought of Ragnar being so fascinated by a slave. She tried to divert his attention with subtle strategies and open provocations. One stormy night, while Ragnar was away leading a raiding expedition, Aslaug decided to confront Elaena.

“You are but a slave,” she said harshly, her light eyes seething with anger. “What have you to offer but your beauty? You are nothing without Ragnar.”

Elaena looked at Aslaug sadly, but deep within her purple eyes, she could see the flames crackling. “Perhaps I am but a slave,” she replied, “but I have the blood of the dragon within me.”

Her words echoed in Aslaug’s mind as she stormed away, furious. Fear of the unknown grew within her; Elaena was more than she seemed.

That same night, as the winds howled outside the village walls, Elaena decided to visit the place where she kept her dragon eggs. Carefully, she touched the scaly surface of the eggs and closed her eyes. In her mind, images of majestic dragons danced like shadows in fire.

“Awaken,” she whispered to the eggs. “We are the last of our line…”

The days passed slowly until an unexpected event changed everything. During a cold, clear night, the night sky turned a blood red color and something began to happen to the eggs. Cracks appeared on the scaly surfaces.

Ragnar was awake that night when he heard a soft sound coming from the place where Elaena kept the eggs. Intrigued and worried at the same time, he went there only to find Elaena kneeling, the golden-white egg in her hands, and beside her was the black-scarlet egg, both slowly cracking.

Her violet eyes were fixed on the magical scene before them as black and white scales began to appear through the cracks.“Elaena!” he exclaimed in amazement. “What… what’s happening?”

“It’s time for them to come back,” she replied in a trembling but hopeful voice.

That magical scene was interrupted by Aslaug, who appeared furiously at the entrance to the hut. Her eyes widened as she saw the eggs breaking and the creatures beginning to emerge.

“Ragnar! What are you doing here?” Aslaug shouted in despair.

But there was no time for explanations; the dragons were born before them with loud hisses that reverberated through the cold night air. Their scales were black and white, one with blood red ornaments and the other with intricate gold.

“Dragons!” Elaena exclaimed in joy as she reached for the newborn creature that resided in her hand.

Aslaug was paralyzed by shock and the growing anger within her at seeing Ragnar so close to this peculiar slave who was now the mother of the reborn dragons.

“You can’t stay here!” Aslaug shouted at Elaena, but it was too late; the creatures were already recognizing their mother.

Ragnar watched the entire scene with growing admiration for Elaena and her strength in bringing the last descendants of the dragons to life.

“She is mine,” Ragnar stated firmly, looking at Aslaug. “And these dragons are our chance to achieve more than we can imagine.”

His words brought a heavy silence between them as the young dragons flapped their tiny wings, still unable to fly fully.

Aslaug felt betrayed; everything she had built seemed to crumble before her eyes. “You betrayed me!” She shouted at Ragnar before running out of the hut, the twilight sky returning to its normal hue.

But Ragnar was focused on something much bigger now—Eleana and her dragons were the key to a new future filled with power and endless possibilities.

As the days passed quickly after the birth of the winged beasts, tensions grew between Ragnar and Aslaug. Their relationship grew increasingly volatile as Elaena gained a foothold in his heart.

Elaena knew the stakes were high; her fate was tied to the future of those newborn dragons, as well as her life in the Norse lands under Ragnar Lothbrok.

Meanwhile, the other members of the village began to notice the changes around them – whispers of dragons coming back to life began to circulate among the Viking warriors eager for even greater conquests under Ragnar’s charismatic leadership.

Finally the day came when everyone gathered in the village’s central square to witness the first flight of the little dragons – the black male being named Drakkar and the white female Dreamfyre by Elaena – under the Norse skies.

Elaena stood nervously beside Ragnar as he spoke inspiring words to his men about courage and new beginnings; then they watched together as Drakkar and Dreamfyre began their first tentative movements in the cold heights of the open sky.With a mighty roar resounding through the surrounding mountains, Drakkar and his mate took flight for the first time – their wings twitching against the dark clouds above them as everyone watched in wonder at the magical scene before them!

Elaena beamed with excitement at the realization of this epic moment; It was there that she finally realized: even though she had been a slave at the beginning of this incredible journey full of intense challenges – she had now found her true family among those brave warriors led by the man whose heart beat strong next to hers!

But even so, there were shadows hanging over this new beginning… Would Aslaug continue to seek revenge? What would their future be like? Many questions still remained unanswered…

But in that magical moment under the Nordic stars illuminated by the triumphant glow of the young dragons flying high in the sky – anything seemed possible!

[daenyzz]

The Dragon Girls: Breaker of Chains and Flame of Freedom

Summary — Lyria, Daenerys's younger bastard sister, accompanies her sister throughout her journey and anti-slavery campaign on behalf of Essos, while Lyria must find which path she should follow, she only knows one thing, which has nothing to do with the Iron Throne.

Warning — Mourning briefly described.

Word Count — 1.269

In the gloom of the night, under a sky full of stars that seemed more distant than ever, Daenerys Targaryen stood on the edge of a large funeral pyre. The flames danced as if they were alive, illuminating her face marked by pain and loss. Beside her, Lyria, her younger bastard sister, watched silently, feeling the weight of grief that hung in the air. Both were too young to bear such sadness, but life had taught them to face pain with bravery.

Lyria was only fourteen days younger than Daenerys, but she already bore the scars of a dark past. Bastard daughter of Aerys II and a Valyrian-looking Lyseni harlot, the young woman had wavy silver hair and amethyst eyes that reflected an inhuman and at the same time tragic beauty. The death of her half-brother Viserys did not bring much pain, but that of the son he implanted in her womb... had left an indelible mark on her heart, one that will never be erased.

The pyre burned with intense flames as Daenerys murmured parting words to Drogo. Lyria felt a deep connection with her sister; Both had lost a lot, and loneliness united them in an unbreakable bond. “We must be strong,” Lyria said quietly, her voice almost lost in the crackling flames. “They wouldn’t want us to let ourselves get down.”

Daenerys turned to her, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I don’t know if I can be strong, Lyria. The world seems so dark right now.”

“Then let us light a light together,” Lyria replied determinedly. “Let this fire be a symbol of our ongoing struggle.”

From that moment on, the two sisters decided that they would not just survive; they would fight for something greater. Lyria’s influence over Daenerys grew as they traveled across Essos, freeing slaves and confronting tyrants. With each city they conquered, Lyria’s determination grew stronger; she did not want the Iron Throne or the power it represented—she wanted freedom for all the oppressed.

During their journeys, they met many people: men and women who had suffered under the yoke of slavery and oppression. With each tale of pain and suffering, Lyria felt her own inner flame ignite. It was as if there was something inside her crying out for justice.

One night, as they watched the starry sky beneath a shroud of silence in the city of Astapor, Lyria met the High Priestess of R’hllor. The woman was shrouded in mystery and power; her eyes seemed to see beyond the present.

“You are the Flame of Freedom,” the priestess said in a deep, echoing voice. “The stars have fallen, the heavens have roared, and darkness gathers in the hearts of humanity, you are born again amidst fire and ash.”

Lyria froze at the priestess’s words. “Me? A Flame? I don’t understand.”

“The Flame of Freedom lived in the Dawn Age,” the priestess continued. “She freed the oppressed from the oppressors and protected the poor from the rich. You have that same flame within you.”

The words echoed in Lyria’s mind like a distant echo. She glanced at Daenerys, who was lost in her own thoughts about her destiny as Dragon Queen.

“But I am not a queen,” Lyria said finally. “I do not want to be like the Targaryens who came before us.”

“You do not need to be a queen,” the priestess replied. “True leadership comes from the heart and courage.”

The days passed as the sisters continued their anti-slavery campaign across Essos. In Meereen, they faced immense challenges: bloodthirsty pirates, cruel warlords, and even political intrigue among the freedmen who wanted to rule rather than be free.

Lyria became a central figure in the movement for freedom; Her inspiring words echoed among the freed slaves as Daenerys led battles against her oppressors. Amidst the chaos of war and the darkness of human betrayal, the bond between the sisters grew even deeper.

One night in Meereen, after a significant victory against one of the local warlords, Lyria climbed to the roof of the palace with Daenerys to gaze at the stars.

“Have you ever thought about what this all means?” Lyria asked as she looked up at the night sky.

“What do you mean?” Daenerys replied curiously.

“Freeing people is wonderful,” Lyria began, “but I sense there’s something deeper here—something to do with our blood heritage.” She hesitated before continuing, “Do you truly believe we’re different from our ancestors?”

Daenerys frowned as she considered this. “I want to be different. I want to bring justice, to be justice.”

“What if we can do this together?” Lyria suggested excitedly. “If we can use our dragons not just to conquer lands, but to protect those in need?”

The words resonated deeply within Daenerys; she knew there was a greater power in her hands—not just dragons or the Iron Throne—but the ability to change lives.

That night, they decided to name their newborn dragons: the scarlet-black dragon they named Anogar, which means “blood” in High Valyrian, to represent the blood spilled by those they loved; the white dragon adorned with violets they named Valyria, to show the world that Valyrian glory had returned, but not as it had been before, but as an anti-slavery dragon. When Daenerys first released Anogar into the night sky, she felt an instant connection with the dragon; it was as if he understood her mission.

As time passed, Lyria realized that, just as her sister had felt with Anogar, she had a special bond with Valyria—a magical connection that seemed to transcend human understanding. After liberating Slaver’s Bay and Dany had made it back to Meereen from Vaes Dothraki, the dragons were now large enough to be ridden, and so they did. They rode dragons across Essos during the anti-slavery campaign, and she felt freedom pulse through her like never before.

But it wasn’t all sunshine and roses; the challenges grew more intense as they conquered cities and made powerful enemies along the way. One fateful night in Yunkai brought unexpected betrayals; allies turned against them, and even some of the freedmen began to question their intentions.

“Why are we fighting for them?” asked a disillusioned advisor after a failed attack on the city. “They should be fighting for themselves!”

Lyria quickly intervened: “Because that is how we build a better future! We cannot be driven by hatred or revenge! We must show the world who we are!”

Daenerys looked at her younger sister with growing admiration; she now saw the strength within her—an indomitable spirit akin to the fire of dragons themselves.

The final battle against the warlords was drawing near when rumors began to circulate of a new threat: those who sought to overthrow Daenerys and take her dragons for themselves were planning to strike during the next full moon./Amidst the preparations for this epic battle, Lyria had a vivid dream about the meaning of the flames—her connection to Valyria seemed to intensify as she delved deeper into the Targaryen legacy.

On the day of the final battle at Yunkai, as the enemy forces advanced beneath a heavy, ominous sky, Lyria climbed onto Valyria’s back while Daenerys rode Anogar beside her. The roar of dragons echoed across the field as they soared above the enemy ranks.

And so began their epic journey as sisters bound by destiny—fighting for justice through fire and ash—never forgetting who they were or where they wanted to go: not the Iron Throne or absolute power, but true freedom for all whose voices were still silenced by fear.

[daenyzz]

The Star of Their Lives

Summary — Through the challenges, Asra and Cassie's love grows stronger and stronger, until from this love a child is born. Although unexpected, the baby will certainly be equally loved, as if it were planned.

Warning — Lightly described birth, but other than that, just lots of cuteness.

Pairing — Asra Alnazar x Fem!Oc named Cassiopeia, but you can change the name.

Word Count — 1.072

In a city shrouded in mystery and enchantment, where magic danced like the wind among the trees, Asra and Cassiopeia Alnazar, also affectionately called Cassie, found a love that defied time and adversity. Cassie was a powerful magician, with skills that dazzled even the most experienced. Her pale blond hair fell in soft waves down to her shoulders, and her pale purple eyes shone with the same intensity as the stars. Asra, with her undeniable charm and exceptional magical abilities, was the tarot wizard who knew the secrets of the future.

The couple's life was full of adventures and challenges, but there was a new journey about to begin: Cassie had discovered she was pregnant. The revelation came on a sunny day, when she looked in the mirror and noticed something different about herself. Magic pulsed inside her, and the connection with the child was undeniable. It was a moment of joy and surprise that quickly turned into a sea of emotions.

“Cassie!” Asra exclaimed as she entered the room. He noticed his beloved's expression and immediately felt that something important was about to be revealed. "What happened?"

Cassie smiled shyly, her heart beating fast. “I… I’m pregnant, Asra.” The words came out as a sweet whisper, but echoed in his mind like thunder.

Asra’s eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and happiness. He approached her, wrapping his arms around her. “This is wonderful! We’re about to have a little wizard or witch in our lives!” His cheerful tone made Cassie laugh.

The pregnancy brought changes to both of them. In the following months, Cassie began to feel the first movements of the child inside her. Each kick was like a reminder of the new life born of their love. Asra was always by her side, caring for her with tenderness and attention.

“You need to rest,” he would often say, as he prepared potions to ease any discomfort she might feel. “And I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

Cassie admits that she was amused by Asra’s exaggerated attempts to protect her. He would organize romantic dinners and prepare relaxing baths with magical herbs. In the midst of it all, they would cuddle together and talk about the child’s future and what their first moments together as a family would be like.

As the months passed, they began to plan the baby’s room. Cassie wanted it to be a magical space, filled with light and soft colors. Together, they chose every detail: the walls were adorned with sparkling stars handmade by Asra; enchanted furniture that changed shape according to the child’s mood was created by Cassie.

Finally, the day of the birth arrived. The night was calm when Cassie began to feel contractions. Asra was at her side, holding her hand steady as she breathed deeply.

“You look amazing,” he said softly, looking into her eyes with unconditional love.

“I just want to see our little one,” Cassie replied between contractions.

After hours of hard, magical labor, the baby’s cries echoed through the room. She was a beautiful girl with silvery-white hair and bright, mismatched eyes that were her father’s deep purple and her mother’s pale violet—a true combination of two magical parents. They decided to name their daughter Lyra, Lyra Alnazar.

The first few months after Lyra’s birth were filled with challenges and unexpected joys. Cassie was learning to balance her powerful magic with the new responsibilities of motherhood. Asra was always there to support her.

“You can use your magic to soothe her,” Asra suggested one night as they tried to get Lyra to sleep.

Cassie hesitated for a moment before nodding. She reached out gently over the crib and whispered soft, magical words that enveloped Lyra in a soothing aura. The child immediately relaxed and soon fell asleep.

“You were amazing,” Asra murmured in awe as his golden arms wrapped around Cassie’s waist from behind.

“It’s hard to believe we’re responsible for this little one,” Cassie said, leaning her head back against Asra’s shoulder as they watched Lyra sleep peacefully. Much to her parents’ dismay, time passed quickly; Lyra grew up healthy and full of energy. Her curiosity was contagious, as was her smile, which was illuminated by the magic of childhood. At six months old, she was already showing signs of the magical abilities she had inherited from her parents—little beams of light danced around her when she was happy and excited.

Asra and Cassie often took Lyra to explore the magical gardens surrounding their home. They taught their daughter about enchanted plants and mystical creatures; each outing was a new adventure filled with learning and laughter.

A special day arrived when Lyra turned one year old. The party was magical—close friends were there to celebrate this new phase in their life as a family.

Cassie baked enchanted cakes that floated in the air while Asra organized magical games for the invited children. Lyra’s soft, joyful laughter filled the room as she played with her friends beneath the twinkling lights of Asra’s handmade lanterns.

At the end of the party, as everyone gathered to sing happy birthday to Lyra, Asra held Cassie’s hand and whispered, “Look how happy she is.”

Cassie smiled broadly as she watched her daughter surrounded by the love and joy of their friends. “Yes,” she replied softly, “and this is just the beginning.”

Life continued to flow smoothly for them; each day was a new opportunity to learn together as a magical family. Challenges arose—sleepless nights or moments when Lyra used her magical abilities unintentionally—but they were always overcome by the deep love they shared.

As the years passed, Cassiopeia would become not only a devoted mother but also a powerful mentor to her growing magical daughter. She taught Lyra about magical responsibility while Asra shared her experiences of facing the challenges of fate.

A year after little Lyra’s birth, as they watched the stars shine brightly in the night sky through her bedroom window, Cassie felt grateful for every moment spent with the family they had built together.

“I couldn’t imagine a better future,” she said, looking into Asra’s eyes.

He smiled softly, “And this is just the beginning of our adventures.”

With that in mind, they kissed under the soft light of the stars—three hearts beating together in perfect harmony within the vast magical universe they had created together.

[daenyzz]

Blood ties become deep love

Summary: In which Daemon convinces his wife, Rhaenyra, that he will be the best option for their only daughter, and at the wedding, he promises to protect her from all dangers, and that is what he did, and even died doing so.

Triggers: Death in childbirth and combat, suggestive sexual content, incest (father and daughter), and typical Asoiaf content.

In 129 years after the Conquest, the Targaryens were at the height of their power, but rumors of war threatened to break out like a storm. A battle for the throne was imminent, and alliances were as volatile as the flames that dragons breathed. At the heart of this turmoil was (Y/N), the sweet and kind daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Daemon Targaryen, a young woman whose beauty was as stunning as that of her silver dragon, Silverwing.

(Y/N) was known throughout the continent as the Fairest Maiden of the Seven Kingdoms. Her silver hair gleamed in the sunlight, framing her angelic face. Her deep violet eyes looked like two pools of amethyst. She was a rider of Silverwing, the magnificent female dragon with silver scales that reflected the daylight like a mirror.

The young woman lived in Dragonstone, where her mother, Rhaenyra, gathered her supporters to claim her right to the Iron Throne. Tensions between the houses were growing, and (Y/N) felt that, sooner or later, the weight of destiny would fall on her shoulders. Despite her youth, she understood the importance of her position and the role she would play in the battle to secure her mother's legacy.

One morning, while (Y/N) was tending to Silverwing in the Dragonpit of the Dragonstone after an aerial tour, her mother appeared at her side.

Rhaenyra had a serious and determined expression. “(Y/N), my dear, we need to talk,” Rhaenyra said, urgency dripping from every word.The young woman turned to face her mother, feeling butterflies in her stomach.

“About what, mother?”Rhaenyra hesitated for a moment before continuing. “About you and Daemon.”

(Y/N) could feel her heart racing. Daemon Targaryen was her father and also known as the Rogue Prince, a man who aroused both admiration and fear in everyone around him. He was a fearless and charismatic warrior, but also someone whose passions could be dangerous.

“I have decided that you shall be married to him,” Rhaenyra announced, quickly and curtly. (Y/N) was stunned by the information, expecting everything but that.

“But mom! He’s my father! How can I marry him?” (Y/N) knew, of course, that consanguineous marriage is a common practice in her family, she herself being the product of his blood, but the girl didn’t expect to get married so young.

Rhaenyra held her daughter’s hands, looking into her eyes intently. “I know this is hard to understand, but these are dark times. The union between you two will strengthen our position against the Greens and other adversaries.” Rhaenyra tried to dissuade her daughter.

The young woman felt the pressure of her mother’s words weighing down on her. Family love was complex; the idea of marrying Daemon seemed both a sacrifice and an opportunity to join forces in turbulent times.

“What if I don’t want to?” (Y/N) asked, her voice shaking, though she tried to hide it.

“You have no choice,” Rhaenyra replied firmly, but her purple gaze did not meet her daughter’s amethyst. “We must secure our Targaryen line and protect the future of the realm.”

After that fateful day, (Y/N) struggled with her emotions as she prepared for the arranged marriage. The following weeks were filled with discussions of political alliances and military strategies, as well as preparations for the wedding, while war loomed like a threatening shadow.

The wedding day arrived faster than (Y/N) expected. The Targaryen Princess looked radiant in a gown adorned with gold details that reflected the colors of House Targaryen. Her silver hair was braided in two braids at the front and pulled together at the back, the rest of it hanging loosely at her back, while a delicate diadem gleamed in the torchlight in the throne room.

Daemon stood at the altar, his imposing presence dominating the space. He wore shining armor that highlighted his masculine, striking features; his lilac eyes fixed on (Y/N) as she entered the room.

Her heart raced as she met her father's intense gaze; there was something deeper there, an inexplicable connection between them that transcended normal family ties.

The ceremony continued under the watchful eyes of those present; every word exchanged seemed to carry significant weight. When they finally became husband and wife, (Y/N) felt a mix of emotions churn in her stomach—responsibility being the biggest of them all.After the ceremony, during the celebratory banquet in the castle’s main hall, Daemon approached her with an enigmatic smile on his lips.

“You look stunningly beautiful tonight, just as the blood of the dragon should be,” he said softly.

(Y/N) blushed under the compliment; her emotions were confused between admiration and awe. “Thank you… father.”

He leaned closer to her, his violet eyes reflecting the flames of the torches around them. “You know that this marriage is not just political? There is something more between us.”

(Y/N) held her breath at those words; the world around her seemed to disappear momentarily. “What do you mean?”

Daemon smiled slightly; there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I want to protect you above all else. And when the time comes for war… I will be by your side.”

His words lit a flame within her—not just for the protection he promised to offer, but for the raw emotion underlying their peculiar connection.

As the festivities continued around them, (Y/N) realized that their union had far more meaning than she had initially thought; it was not just a political alliance or a military strategy—it was also a form of deep love rooted in the complexities of Targaryen life.

In the days following their wedding, (Y/N) was taken to bed by Daemon every day, and every night, he said, (Y/N) must carry her brother in her womb so that another Targaryen might be born. Daemon taught his daughter not only the arts of pleasure, but also politics and strategy. The King Consort wanted (Y/N) to not only be a skilled dragon rider but also a strategist worthy of her House’s history. Together they flew the blue skies of Westeros; She felt the freedom on the dragon’s wings as Daemon led the way deftly through the clouds.

With each flight together, their hearts grew deeper together; there was something magical about the way they shared these moments under the vast, open sky—away from the political intrigues, the pressures of court…and her jealous mother.

However, as the days turned into weeks and tensions rose in the realm due to the impending civil war between the Blacks and the Greens, led by Aegon II and Alicent Hightower, new challenges arose to test not only their family ties but also their personal convictions.

Amidst the horrors of war: unexpected betrayals arose between former allies; friends became enemies in a matter of moments — testing not only their skills as a strategist but also their emotional strength in the face of the brutality of the struggle for power.

During a particularly dark night after an intense battle where many precious lives were lost: Daemon found (Y/N) alone in the Dragonpit where Silverwing remained calm despite the turmoil around them…

“I am sorry for the pain you are going through, our little one should not feel this,” he said softly as he caressed his daughter-wife’s small belly, where his seed germinated and began to grow.She looked up at him with tears in her delicate violet eyes: “Why must we fight against each other? Shouldn't we be together? Why do the usurpers insist on this fight?"

Daemon held her face gently between his hands: "This is our destiny, I fear...but I will do everything to protect you and our child growing within you!"

At the end of the Dance of the Dragons: Daemon died in the God's Eye, fighting against his nephew, Aemond. He did not fight for his first wife and her birthright, he fought for his daughter-wife and their unborn child; while (Y/N), died in labour, giving birth to a strong, silver boy, whose eyes were his mother's and his father's features. (Y/N) named the little baby Daemon II, in honor of the man who protected her from all harm.

In the past, Daemon desired the throne for himself and his lineage. And in the end, part of his plan came to fruition, as all of Rhaenyra's children were gone, with (Y/N) being the last to die, leaving little Daemon II first in line for the throne. Daemon may not have sat on the Iron Throne, but his son, Daemon II, who grew up to look exactly like his father, did and ruled for years.

Author's Notes: Hey guys! I'm still kind of a beginner, so please excuse the dialogue, I feel like it could have been better... I will continue to write, if you have an idea and want me to write it, I will be more than grateful.