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ashblooddragons · 2 days ago

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The Red Queen (Chapter 8/?)

112 ac

Your Pov

It's the day of Mama's funeral. I try not to cry again as I sit in the bath as my maid wash hair.

“What oils would you like today, Princess? Your usual jasmine?” Orchid asks already reaching for the oil bottle ready to pour it in the tub and my hair.

But instead, I stop her and think about Mama's calming scent and Ali's vanilla scent, or at least that's what she calls it.

“What was Mama's oil?” I ask and I see the flash of sadness cross Orchid's face before she smiles and grabs another bottle.

“Lavender, the late Queen loved Lavender.” She says filling the dropper before letting the oil drip into my bath and hair.

“Can I have vanilla too? Or would that smell bad?” I ask curiously before biting my lip nervously.

“Lavender and vanilla would be lovely together, Princess.” Orchid says before reaching for the small vial of vanilla oils.

Once she has them both in the bath and my hair I feel safe, like a warm hug, like I can breathe again. I start to cry again but Orchid acts like she doesn't notice, most of the maids act like they don't notice. I don't understand why, why can't they wipe my tears like Kepus and Ali do? Why can't they hold me so close like Kepus and Ali do? They hold me so tight it's hard to breathe but I can feel their hearts beating feel they're alive feel they're here.

But what confuses me the most is why Mama had to leave me? She promised after this baby was born she would play with me finally, that she would come to my leasons and see how smart I'm getting. But now she can't do that, because she's gone forever.

Everyone keeps saying that, but they won't tell me how long forever is, only that it is forever. It doesn't make sense, I just want to know when I can see my Mama again when she'll be back to play and see how smart I am.

“All done, Princess.” Orchid says wiping my face of the water from the bath, but from her frown I can tell she was also wiping my tears.

I stand in the bath and use my step stool to get out so she can wrap me in a warm towel that always feels warm against my skin because she rests it next to the fire, and smells of something woodsy.

I'm quickly dried and dressed in a black dress. Put on thick wool stockings as it's chilly today and my hair braided so it's a crown upon my head. Orchid helps me put on my bracelet and necklace from Kepus like always before someone knocks on the door.

“Come!” I call out rubbing my already raw and painful eyes. I then look down in case it's Papa, he seems to not be able to look at me anymore. I don't understand why though I haven’t done anything wrong.

“Ñuha riña, it's time to go.” I hear Kepus say.

Not Papa, I don't have to hide my face.

I turn and look up and see him frown at how bloody my lips and how red my eyes are.

“Can't I wear red, it's a much prettier color than black.” I say frowning

This seems to make him happy as he chuckles with a shake of his head before he kneels down so he can hold my hands in his. My hands always seem so small when he holds them, not like the big girl hands I like to think they are. “No, I'm afraid not ñuha riña. Black, is traditional mourning colors you will be wearing them for a while yet.” He says inspecting my hair to see how well done it is.

“I did it today, M'lord.” Orchid says from her spot behind me with her head down.

Kepus made sure to tell Orchid only she and him can do my hair now, maybe the ‘little Hightower’ but I don't know who that would be.

“I figured as much, it's not in her eyes.” He responds with a nod to my maids before picking me up and walking out of my room.

Once in the carriage I see Nyra who is glaring at me as usual but this time it sends chills down my spine. Had I done something? And then I see Papa next to her and he won't look at me, as if doing so brings him pain. I must have done something bad, but what?

The ride is quiet, almost suffocatingly so, so I feel I need to break it.

“When will me and Nyra know when to tell Syrax and Stromchaser to dracarys?” I ask Papa but when he doesn’t answer I turn to look up at Kepus instead.

“I’ll count down from five, once I say zero you two command them to light the pyre.” He says glaring at Papa or some reason.

I only nod and look out the window watching as the smallfolk cry for Mama. They miss her too, hopefully their Mama’s aren’t goen too.

When we make it to Rhaeny’s hill Kepus picks me up again and whispers to me “it’s quite steep, ñuha riña, don’t you tripping and getting hurt.”

I feel the wind against my back, it makes me shiver as I cling to Kepus hoping he'll keep the cold away. Once we make it to the top of the hill he sets me down on my feet. He lets me cling to his leg as the Valyrian priest chants.

I try and ignore them as I look at Mama and baby Baelon, they're wrapped in a brown cloth so tight I can see the outline of Mama's arms, legs, and belly. Her belly looks weird but I ignore it as it's probably because she's dead.

Once the priest is done and walks away I let go of Kepus and walk forward with Nyra.

“It's time girls, are you ready ñuha riña?” Kepus says standing between us.

I want to scream ‘NO’ but I know that I must, that Mama and Baelon must be ‘put to rest’ or at least that's what Ali said. So instead I nod my head as I wipe my tears.

Kepus looks between us one last time before sighing and nodding his head, a lmost like he's defeated.

“Five.”

I gasp realizing I'm never going to be ready this, to let Mama go. At least before I had to turn her to ash in the wind I could pretend she was just on a long trip, that she wasn't gone that she was only seeing her family in the Vale.

“Four.”

I feel my heart clench, feel it about beat out of my chest. It's painful, it hurts, but not as much as when I burn Mama away.

“Three.”

I can't breathe, why can't I breathe? I can feel my heart practically beat out of my chest. I feel my lungs constrict so I can only take in small gasps of air.

“Two.”

I feel Kepus rest his hand on my shoulder giving it a squeeze. I still can't breathe, still feel my heart beating out of my chest, but for some reason, it's all getting easier to deal with.

“One.”

I hear Stromchaser let out a cry of pain, Kepus says they feel our emotions, our pain, I have to stay calm for Stromchaser. But I can't I can't calm down, I'm losing Mama forever.

“Now.”

I figured out what forever means, and all it took was me screaming with Nyra, commanding our dragons to make Mama and Baelon ash in the wind. Make them gone forever.

Once Stromchaser and Syrax stop their flames I turn to Kepus leaping into his arms and sobbing. Sobbing that I'll never get to see Mama again and play in the gardens with her. Sobbing because I'll never get to meet my baby brother. Sobbing that Mama and Baelon are gone forever.

Daemons Pov

I stand leaning against the Weirwood tree waiting for that blasted Dornish man, Cole.

I knew after that fucking Sarwyck lost in the first round you needed a better guard. Though my pride was hurt I can't deny that Cole proved himself, that he would be the perfect guard for you.

I remember the look of hos face when I grabbed him after, it was a look of horror, of fear of what the Prince of the city would do to him. Instead I only whispered one thing.

“Meet me at the Weorwood tree in a week's time at the hour of the wolf.”

He quickly agreed of course but now I'm wondering if I should have threatened him instead of letting him go on his merry way.

I hear a twig snap under someone's foot and turn to see him. He seems to have rushed here if the sweat on his brow is any indicator.

Must have realized he was almost late. I think with a cruel smirk.

“You wished to see me, my Prince?” He says winded and bent over with his hands on his knees catching his breath.

“I have an offer for you, though if you take it you'll answer to me and no one else.” I say standing straight and walking towards him.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“You took down one of my Gold Cloaks, he was in charge of the care and well-being of the youngest Princess. Can't have someone who can't even beat a stewards son protect my sweet little niece, now can I?” I say in a calm voice that has always led men to do as I please, even my brother, the King.

“And what does that have to do with me?” He asks standing straight again hands behind his back.

I know that stance, I know it well.

“You're a soldier aren't you.” I say but it was rhetorical

“Yes, my Prince.” He responds curtly but I catch the scowl that he was read so easily.

Oh just you wait, Ser Cole, you'll learn to hide everything in this pit of vipers soon.

“If I could make it where you have a very high chance of becoming a Kingsguard, would you?”

He seems shocked from the way his mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. I can't fight the chuckle that leaves me, nor would I want to.

“It would be an honor, my Prince. But why would they choose a stewards son over a lord's son who has also been to war?” He asks, curious and skeptical to this offer.

“And what I'd I said they wouldn't be others who have gone to war?”

He freezes for all of ten seconds before a smile comes to his face. “And what would you need from me? Of course after you give me such a high ranking at court you will want something in return?”

I stop and look at him surprised. Most who are not from Kingslanding would have taken this chance by now, I can't tell if I'm proud, annoyed, or impressed. I think before responding.

“You see, I noticed something about our match. I had my blade to your throat, I let you live, and yet at the first chance you got back up and made sure I'd be the one to yield.” I say smiling when he starts to shift uncomfortably.

“It was a fair fight, you know it just as much as I.”

“Never said it wasn't, you never said you yielded, so by all rights you could, and did get back up to continue to fight.” I say smirking when I see the tension leave his shoulders.

“That still doesn't explain why you need me.” He says obviously getting annoyed.

“It's simple, I want- no I need a man who will use suck ‘dirty’ tactics when defending my niece. If I was to help you, you will defend the youngest, the Realms Darling they call her.”

“Why her and not the eldest?” He asks confused.

“Rhaenyra has at least three guards at her demand, none are truly hers but they may as well be. The youngest…well she has only had the spares or the ones I give to her. I wish for her to have one I know I can trust. One that will give me the information I desire, when I desire it.”

He seems to contemplate his options, though before he even says it, I know what he'll do.

“I'll do it.”

I can't fight the smirk that comes to my face as I shake his hand, a symbol of a good deal.

Once he's out of my sight I look down at the gold cloak against my back.

Fuck I could use a drink and a whore. I think before walking towards the most depraved parts of the city looking for a night to forget all I've lost, if only for one night.

Viserys Pov

After that ‘talk’ with my small council and the very long day I've had I knew when my head hit my pillow I'd be asleep.

All I saw for a while was darkness, I figured it was because I was still awake but then I saw a light far away and knew what was going on.

Not this blasted dream again! I thought as I stormed forward knowing what I'd find.

The throne room was dark, not a candle lit on the walls, but there was fourteen candles lit in front of the iron throne. They always seemed to dance, I swore if I moved closer I would hear the sounds of childlike giggles. Most are on their own, standing on their own candle sticks, but three have two prongs with two candles on the stand.

It's all the same, even those damned faces are still blurry! I think ready to turn around until I hear the booming voice of my Grandsire.

“You will stay, boy!” I feel my bones rattle just from the sheer force my Grandsire has spoken to me.

I now don't feel like a King, I feel like a little boy again being scolded for trying to steal a sweet…again.

“Why do you bring me here Grandsire? You have made me come to this room with its candles every night ever since my dear wife has passed! Well before that I was having this dream once a moon!” I cried out looking up and around me searching for my Grandsire.

“It is not our fault you are not Brave son. That you will not face what you already know.” I then hear my Father, the one man I always wished I could be, but Daemon has always been more like him than I'll ever be.

“What is there to see? Fourteen candles, two blurry faces on the throne? I've seen it! I understand I must have a son to put on the throne!” I sob out feeling their disappointment, their regret, knowing I'm far from the monarch they wished from me.

“Have you thought that perhaps if you moved closer the faces would be clear? Or are you that daft Viserys?” I hear their voice now combine, hear my fathers furious tone mixed with my Grandsires disappointment.

I shake my head but still listen to their advice. As I move forward I begin to hear the sounds of a woman giggling at something a man had said. Another step, and I can make out the woman's curls and theans long straight hair. One more and I see a gorgeous woman on my brother's lap, though it is not him that wears my crown but her.

The two of them stop their chatter, my brother is the first to turn to look at me.

“How lovely for you to finally join us dear brother, I was beginning to wonder if you ever would.” I teases with that smirk of hos that always make me want to punch him right in the lip.

That'll show him who's older still. I think with a smile before I leaves me and a pained gasp leaves me.

The woman has turned her head to look at me, I would have never recognized her if it weren't for those eyes. One of Lavender and one of Ice Blue, the ones I can not look at, the ones who only bring me pain.

“You know what you must do, Father. You always have.” You say but it is not your little voice, it is a woman's voice.

I wake with a gasp before turning and letting my dinner meet my chambers floor.

“You know what you must do, Father. You always have.” Those words keep running through my head as I try to catch my breath.

I have, haven't I?

Special thanks to @sugutoad for making the header for this fic, I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @mmogurl @sachaa-ff

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pascaloverx · 2 days ago

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CARELESS

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Laena Velaryon. Recently, you’ve found yourself tempted by someone you never considered before—your cousin, Aegon Targaryen II. After a glass or two of wine, he seems like an enticing distraction. How could you resist the temptation to indulge in something no one would approve of?

Author's Note: This is the second House of the Dragon universe fanfic I’m writing, but I’m not sure if it will continue. This work is set in the world created by George R.R. Martin, as depicted in his book Fire & Blood, and none of the characters belong to me. The story will follow some events from the series House of the Dragon (2022), but with changes to fit the fanfiction narrative. Therefore, it will not adhere strictly to the series' storyline. The fanfic may include inappropriate language, adult content, and violence. Please engage with the story if you’d like it to continue!

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PREVIEW

A most tedious dinner. You were seated alongside your brothers, your father, and your stepmother, accompanied by her children. All gathered at this meal, not for comfort, but to maintain appearances. Your younger sisters, Baela and Rhaena, sat closely beside their betrothed, Jacaerys and Lucerys. Your father would never explain why you had not been promised to anyone. The most he had ever mentioned was that King Viserys I had requested you remain unbetrothed, with the intent that, when the time was right, you would wed one of his sons.

It would not be such a bad idea, were the son of Viserys whom you desire available for marriage. After all, Prince Aegon II is wed to Princess Helaena, leaving you to wait for a union with one of the remaining sons: Prince Aemond or Prince Daeron. Aemond always appears so stern and determined. Surely, he is a man of courage. Yet, you cannot say whether he is the type to offer you devotion, passion, and amusement. As for Daeron, he seems almost nonexistent.

"If you are thinking of using that knife for some wicked deed, I would suggest pointing the sharp end towards your intended target, not towards yourself." You remark, your gaze fixed on Aegon II as he idly plays with the knife in his hands. Your voice is not raised, for you do not wish for anyone to notice you speaking with Aegon just yet.

"Are you so bored that gazing at me is your only amusement, cousin?" Aegon speaks, as though in desperate need of someone to alleviate his ennui. Not long ago, he had attempted to engage Jace in conversation, broaching inappropriate topics of a sexual nature. Clearly, he sought nothing more than to provoke Rhaenyra's son.

"It must be customary here to have nothing to do. Despite the abundant quantity of wine served, it seems there is no amount of wine that could make it pleasant to spend hours gazing at you," you reply, your words seemingly sparking something in Prince Aegon II. He gives a half-smile, his blue eyes almost gleaming, despite his melancholic expression.

He moves his chair closer to you. "I can't imagine there is anything more interesting happening in Dragonstone than here. Especially for someone like you—unbetrothed, not a rider of any dragon. Tell me, how does it feel to be the only defective daughter of Daemon Targaryen?" Aegon truly seeks to provoke you. Yet, you harden your expression, meeting his gaze with narrowed eyes.

"A bold remark from the man who can't speak High Valyrian well enough to properly command his dragon, or do you think I haven’t noticed that your skin is so pale it seems you haven’t stepped outside in months?" you retort, trying to wound him as deeply as he has wounded you. "And for your information, I recently claimed Seasmoke, so I am no longer a dragonless rider." As you speak the last words, it almost seems as though you are seeking his approval in some way.

"I dare you to say that closer to my face," Aegon II Targaryen retorts provocatively, as though, despite your barbs striking a nerve, he finds satisfaction in the exchange. "And you only speak of my skills in High Valyrian out of envy. I highly doubt that Seasmoke compares in any way to Sunfyre, who, might I add, understands me completely."

You rise from your seat, stepping closer to Aegon, who now sits far nearer than he had before, having crossed the table’s divide with unsettling ease. "I shall say it plainly, Your Highness, face to face," you declare, your tone calm yet laced with venom. "You reek of wine and failure." Each word leaves your lips slowly, deliberate and cutting, as you lean perilously close to him. Most at the table remain absorbed in their own affairs, indifferent to the charged exchange between you and Aegon. Helaena’s gaze lingers briefly, yet her inscrutable expression betrays neither concern nor objection. Then, with calculated precision, Aemond rises. His sudden movement is commanding, his imposing presence drawing all attention to him and breaking the taut tension between you and his elder brother.

"Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise... strong. Let us drain our cups to these three strong boys," Aemond declares with biting sarcasm. It is clear he seeks to unsettle Rhaenyra’s sons, who are the subject of whispered rumors—that they are not Velaryons by blood, but bastards sired by Harwin Strong. The outcome is predictable. Within moments, Jacaerys’s fist connects with Aemond’s face, the clash erupting without pause. Aegon quickly moves to block Lucerys from joining the fray between his elder brother and Aemond. Boys, men, masculine creatures—all so easily bored, all with tempers as short as their patience.

Your father, Daemon Targaryen, rises, his presence commanding enough to silence the room after both Alicent and Rhaenyra have already stood. With his intervention, the conflict swiftly dissipates—a pity, for you would have relished watching them tear into one another. It would have been the most entertainment you’d had since arriving at the Red Keep.

"Sister, we should retire to our chambers," Baela says, pulling you from your thoughts as you watch your relatives begin to file out from the table, the tension lingering like a ghost in their wake.

"Go on ahead, sister. I shall check on Viserys II and Aegon III to ensure they are sleeping peacefully—if it pleases you, Princess Rhaenyra," you reply to your sister, turning your attention to your stepmother, who still bears an air of frustration over the earlier chaos.

"Of course, Y/N. If you could give them a goodnight kiss on my behalf, I would be grateful. I will see to the boys’ return to their chambers before retiring to my own. Should you or Baela need anything…" Rhaenyra speaks, her weariness evident as though the mere act of quelling her sons' quarrel has drained her.

Your father, Daemon, approaches from behind, wrapping his arms around her in a gesture of unspoken solidarity. "If you need anything, do try to manage on your own—you are my daughters, after all," he says with a sly smile, pressing a kiss to Rhaenyra’s cheek before casting a confident glance toward you and Baela. With that, farewells are exchanged, and you each retreat to your respective quarters.

You make your way toward the quarters of your younger brothers—well, half-brothers, children of Rhaenyra and Daemon. You recall the day the maids brought them in, and so you attempt to follow the path that you remember. Yet, for some reason, it feels as though you’ve lost your way.

"Are you looking for me?" Aegon’s voice comes softly from behind you, and you jump, nearly crying out in surprise.

"Damn you, Aegon! Do you want me to wake the entire keep with my screams?" you exclaim, spinning around to face him. He stands there, a goblet of wine in hand, taking a slow sip as his gaze sweeps over you, appraising you from head to toe with a certain unsettling amusement.

"Never would I dream of allowing others to interrupt our little exchange, my dear Y/N," Aegon murmurs, closing the distance between you both.

You smile slyly, taking a step closer to him in return. "As for your question," you reply with a teasing edge, "I’m looking for an Aegon, but not you. My younger brother, to be precise. Do you happen to know where I can find the quarters of my younger siblings?"

You snatch the goblet of wine from his hand, taking a sip, and he watches you with a mixture of surprise and amusement. After a moment, he gestures toward the far end of the corridor, where a door stands slightly ajar. "That way," he says simply.

"Thank you for your assistance, Aegon," you say, returning the goblet to his hands, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes the air between you feel charged. You begin to turn, heading toward the direction of your younger brothers' quarters, but then you feel Aegon’s hands grasp you, clumsily yet with undeniable strength. He likely still holds the effects of the wine, but his grip is firm, almost possessive.

"There is certainly a more fitting way for you to show your gratitude," Aegon murmurs, drawing closer to your face, the sharp scent of wine swirling around you both as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin.

"I don't think it would be appropriate for the gratitude you have in mind to take place so near to your quarters, Your Highness. Surely your wife would not approve," you say, your words rejecting him, though your body betrays your true feelings as you move closer to his lips.

Aegon’s response comes with a quiet, almost amused tone, "Helaena is more understanding than you might think. She prefers to stay in her chambers most of the time." His hands, with the subtle grace of someone accustomed to both charm and conquest, roam over your waist, as if testing the boundaries of your composure, seeking to draw you in further.

"Very well, then, close your eyes," you respond quickly. Aegon, likely expecting a kiss, closes his eyes gently, waiting. You draw your mouth near his, feeling the intoxicating scent of wine almost envelop you. It’s so close that any movement forward would result in a deep kiss. But where is the thrill in giving in so easily?

"Let us save that gratitude for another time, dear cousin," you finish with a soft kiss to his cheek. You pull away from him, gently removing his arms from around your waist. The frustration in Aegon's gaze is evident as he watches you retreat, and for a moment, you savor the power you hold over the situation. Turning, you walk away, heading toward the quarters of your younger brothers.

The following morning, you are abruptly awakened by the sound of your father entering your room. Daemon’s expression is anything but calm—he looks tense, almost impatient. "Get up, Y/N! King Viserys demands your presence in the throne room," he commands, his voice sharp and authoritarian. For a moment, you wonder if you’re caught in a nightmare. Your head throbs painfully from the effects of the wine you drank the night before, and it takes a few seconds for your mind to catch up with his words.

"What happened, Father?" you ask, still trying to compose yourself, too confused to fully understand. Daemon turns, his agitation palpable, running a hand through his hair as though processing what he’s about to say.

"After last night’s altercation, my beloved brother has decided to betroth you to his son. He believes it will help mend the relationships among the younger members of the family," Daemon says, his words laced with frustration. "Prepare yourself, Y/N. You are soon to be promised to the remaining son—the one-eyed prince." Daemon’s tone is nearly explosive as he paces around your room. After he speaks, he storms out, leaving you to grapple with the shocking news.

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