#Alyssa Royce | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hisfavegirl · 4 days ago

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Endless Devotion- Daemon Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary : Though the kingdom’s future was always at the forefront, it was the love between you and Daemon that would defy fate, a love that transcended the barriers of duty. The day you were born, the future had already been written for you, and yet, you and Daemon would challenge it with every breath you took, every moment you shared.

Daemon Masterlist.

You were the third child of Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa, born on a stormy night that claimed the lives of your mother and twin brother. The Maesters had whispered of your slim chances, but somehow, you survived—a fragile yet fierce reminder of the strength that ran in your blood.

Growing up, you were cherished by your father, Baelon, and doted on by your older brothers, Viserys and Daemon. The bond between the three of you was unbreakable, though it was clear that each of your brothers saw you in very different lights.

Viserys was gentle, the older brother who would read to you by the fire or braid your hair as you told him stories of your dreams. He had a natural inclination to protect you, a role he embraced as the future King of the Seven Kingdoms.

Daemon, however, was something else entirely. His affection was fierce, his attention constant. He was protective, yes, but also possessive. There was a sharp edge to his love for you, a depth that seemed to go beyond the bonds of mere siblings. Where others might have dismissed it as Daemon’s usual intensity, you could feel the weight of his gaze, the way his hand lingered on yours a moment too long, and the way his mood darkened whenever you spoke of marriage or suitors.

As you grew older, you noticed how Daemon’s attention never wavered. He always found excuses to be near you, whether it was accompanying you on dragon rides or sitting too close during family feasts. His words were often veiled with deeper meanings, and his actions spoke volumes he didn’t dare to put into words.

You loved both your brothers dearly, but with Daemon, there was an undeniable tension, a connection that made your heart race even when you wished it wouldn’t. You often found yourself questioning the nature of his affections and, more troublingly, your own.

As the years passed and the politics of the realm began to weigh on your family, Viserys took his place as heir to the Iron Throne, and Daemon’s restless spirit grew more pronounced. But no matter how far he roamed or how much chaos he caused, his attention always returned to you.

You couldn’t deny the warmth his presence brought or the way his protective nature made you feel safe, even as whispers in the court began to stir about the true nature of Prince Daemon’s feelings for his beloved sister.

The Throne room was heavy with tension as you stood beside Daemon, the newly crowned King Viserys sitting on the Iron Throne before you. His calm demeanor belied the storm brewing in the room. You glanced at your older brother, your heart heavy with uncertainty.

Viserys’s voice was steady, but there was a finality in his tone. “It is time to secure the future of our house, for the good of the realm. Daemon, you will marry Lady Rhea Royce of Runestone. The Vale is a strong ally, and this union will solidify our ties with them.”

Daemon stiffened beside you, his hands curling into fists. He shot Viserys a glare so intense it could have melted steel. “You expect me to marry her? A woman I have never met, with a temperament as cold as the mountains she comes from?” His voice was sharp, his disdain evident.

Viserys ignored his outburst and turned to you, his expression softening slightly. “And you, my sweet sister. Lord Jason Lannister has expressed interest in taking you as his wife. A match with the Westerlands will bring great strength and wealth to our house.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt the weight of Daemon’s gaze shift to you. His anger now burned hotter, directed at your eldest brother. “A Lannister? You would send her to Casterly Rock, to be a trophy for that pompous lion?” His voice grew louder, echoing through the hall.

Viserys’s expression hardened. “This is not a debate, Daemon. These matches are for the good of the realm, not for personal desires.”

“You mean your desires,” Daemon snapped, stepping forward, his anger barely restrained. “You sit on that throne and play the dutiful king, but you forget who we are. She is a Targaryen, not some pawn to be traded for gold and swords!”

You placed a hand on Daemon’s arm, trying to calm him, but his fury was like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. “Daemon,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Please.”

He turned to you, his face softening for a moment as he saw the uncertainty in your eyes. But when he looked back at Viserys, his rage reignited.

“If you think I will stand by and let this happen, you are mistaken,” Daemon growled, his voice low but menacing. “I will not let her be taken from me.”

Viserys rose from the throne, his patience thinning. “You will obey, Daemon. Both of you will. This is my decree as your king.”

Daemon’s lips curled into a bitter smile, his voice dripping with venom. “Then perhaps I am no longer fit to be your brother, if all I am to you is a sword to wield and a pawn to marry off.”

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the hall, leaving you standing there, torn between your loyalty to your eldest brother and the fiery love and devotion of the younger.

Viserys sighed heavily, his face a mixture of frustration and sadness. “He will come to understand, in time,” he said, as if trying to reassure himself more than you.

You stood your ground, your heart pounding as you faced Viserys, who had returned to his seat on the Iron Throne. His expression remained stern, but you could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he regarded you.

“Brother,” you began, your voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within you. “You must reconsider this decision. Daemon is not someone who will take this lightly, and you know it.”

Viserys exhaled sharply, leaning back against the cold iron of his throne. “You think I don’t understand Daemon? I’ve been dealing with his impulsiveness and defiance all my life. He will learn to obey, as we all must for the good of the realm.”

You stepped closer, your gaze unwavering. “You may think you understand him, but you do not see what I see. Daemon will not accept this. He will do whatever it takes to undo what you’ve decreed, and you know as well as I do that his methods are… dangerous.”

Viserys frowned, his fingers drumming against the armrest. “And what would you have me do, sister? Set aside what is best for the realm because of his temper? Because of his… feelings for you?”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, you hesitated. “This isn’t just about his feelings for me,” you said softly. “This is about preventing a fracture in our family—one that may be impossible to mend. Daemon’s anger is like a wildfire, and once it begins, it will burn everything in its path. Including you, including me… including the realm.”

Viserys looked at you, his expression softening ever so slightly. “You think I enjoy this? That I take pleasure in making decisions that hurt those I love? I must think of the greater good.”

“Then think of the consequences, Viserys,” you pressed. “Think of what Daemon might do. He is loyal to his family, yes, but his loyalty to me is stronger than any bond you could force upon him with a marriage to Rhea Royce. And if you send me to Casterly Rock… you will lose him. Completely.”

Viserys rubbed his temple, weariness etched into his features. “Daemon must learn to control himself, and so must you. I cannot rule with my heart alone, sister.”

“You must rule with wisdom,” you countered. “And wisdom means understanding the consequences of your actions. I am begging you, Viserys. Think this through before it is too late.”

For a long moment, silence hung between you. Viserys seemed to weigh your words carefully, his gaze searching yours for answers. Finally, he spoke, his voice heavy.

“I will consider it,” he said, though the exhaustion in his tone betrayed his uncertainty. “But know this, sister—whatever happens, I will do what I believe is best for House Targaryen.”

You nodded, though your heart remained heavy with doubt. As you left the throne room, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over—and that Daemon’s reaction to all of this would shape your family’s future in ways none of you could yet foresee.

You made your way to the training grounds, where the sound of clashing steel and labored breathing filled the air. Your eyes immediately found Daemon, his silver hair damp with sweat as he ruthlessly swung his sword at a weary guard. The poor man could barely keep up, his shield trembling under the relentless force of Daemon’s strikes.

“Daemon!” you called out, your voice cutting through the din.

He didn’t stop. His sword continued its brutal arc, forcing the guard back until the man stumbled and fell to one knee. You took a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Daemon, that’s enough!”

Still, he ignored you, his focus fixed on his opponent. The guard, clearly terrified, raised his hands in surrender, his weapon slipping from his grasp. Daemon sneered but finally lowered his sword, stepping back as the man scrambled to his feet and fled the training yard.

Daemon turned to face you, his expression cold and furious, his chest heaving. His violet eyes burned with anger, though whether it was directed at you or someone else, you couldn’t tell.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice low but sharp. “Go back to Viserys if you’re here to plead his case.”

You stepped closer, refusing to be intimidated. “I’m not here for Viserys. I’m here for you.”

He scoffed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “What do you want, sister? To tell me to fall in line? To bow to his commands like a dutiful dog?”

“No,” you said firmly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I’m here because I know you. I know how angry you are, and I know what you’re capable of when you feel cornered.”

His jaw tightened, and he turned away, gripping his sword so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Then you should also know that I won’t sit by while he takes everything from me.”

“You think this is about taking from you?” you demanded, stepping closer. “Daemon, this isn’t just about us. This is about the realm, about alliances, about keeping peace.”

He turned back to you, his eyes blazing. “To hell with the realm! To hell with alliances and peace! You are my sister, my blood, and I will not stand by while he gives you to some Lannister!”

“Daemon,” you said softly, your voice breaking slightly. “I don’t want this any more than you do. But if you do something reckless, if you act out of anger, it will only make things worse. For both of us.”

For a moment, his anger faltered, replaced by something raw and vulnerable. He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to cup your face gently. “I cannot lose you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I won’t.”

You placed your hand over his, your heart aching at the desperation in his words. “You won’t lose me, Daemon. But we have to be smart about this. We can’t fight Viserys on this—not like this.”

His gaze searched yours, his anger giving way to a deep, simmering frustration. Finally, he sighed and stepped back, letting his hand fall to his side.

“Then tell me what to do,” he said, his voice quieter now but still tinged with defiance. “Tell me how to fix this without losing you.”

You hesitated, unsure of what to say. But one thing was clear—you would have to tread carefully if you wanted to protect both Daemon and yourself from the storm brewing around you.

You grabbed Daemon’s hand, pulling him forcefully away from the training yard. He resisted slightly, his voice sharp with frustration.

“Where are we going?” he demanded, his tone laced with irritation.

You didn’t answer, your grip tightening as you led him through the winding corridors of the Red Keep. He huffed behind you but didn’t pull away, his curiosity piqued by your determination.

Finally, you arrived at the council chambers where Viserys was still seated, reviewing documents and speaking with an advisor. He looked up as the door swung open, surprise flashing across his face as he saw you enter with Daemon in tow.

“Leave us,” you commanded, your voice steady and firm.

Viserys frowned but waved his advisor away. The room emptied quickly, leaving the three of you alone. He set his quill down and folded his hands, his expression expectant. “What is the meaning of this?”

You stepped forward, releasing Daemon’s hand but keeping him close by your side.

“You call yourself a king of fairness and justice,” you began, your voice steady but tinged with anger. “Yet you would take from us the right you claimed for yourself.”

Viserys raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in his chair. “And what right is that?”

“The right to marry the one you love,” you said sharply. “You chose Aemma, a woman you cared for deeply, despite the fact that the match was orchestrated by our grandfather. You didn’t resist it, not because it was your duty, but because it was what you wanted. And now you sit here, dictating our futures without a care for what we want.”

Viserys’s gaze hardened. “It is my duty as king to secure alliances for House Targaryen. Aemma was a choice that benefited the realm, as are these marriages I’ve proposed.”

Daemon stepped forward, his voice low and laced with anger. “Aemma was no mere alliance to you. She was your love, your comfort. Do not twist the truth to suit your decisions now, brother.”

You glanced at Daemon, grateful for his support, before turning your focus back to Viserys. “We are not pawns to be moved on your board, Viserys. We are your family. Your blood. Do not expect us to accept this without question.”

Viserys’s jaw tightened, his frustration evident. “And what would you have me do? Allow you to marry whomever you please, damn the consequences for our house?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, your voice unwavering. “If it was acceptable for you, why not for us? Do you fear that granting us the same freedom will make you appear weak? Or do you fear that we will make choices that do not align with your vision of the future?”

For a moment, the room fell silent, the tension between the three of you palpable. Viserys stared at you, his expression unreadable, before his gaze shifted to Daemon, who was watching him with barely concealed disdain.

Finally, Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. “You speak boldly, sister, but you fail to understand the weight of a crown. The realm demands sacrifices, and those sacrifices often begin with us.”

Daemon scoffed, his tone biting. “Spare us the lecture, brother. You made your sacrifices with Aemma, but they were sacrifices you were willing to make. Do not expect the same from us when you refuse to acknowledge our desires.”

Viserys hesitated, the weight of your words clearly affecting him. He looked at you again, his gaze softer now, though still conflicted. “And what do you propose, sister? That I abandon my plans entirely?”

“I propose that you listen,” you replied, stepping closer. “Listen to us, to what we want, and find a solution that benefits everyone. You owe us that much, at least.”

Viserys leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful but strained. “I will consider it,” he said finally, though his tone lacked certainty.

It wasn’t the answer you wanted, but it was enough for now. You turned to leave, Daemon following close behind, his steps heavy with frustration.

“Do you truly think he’ll change his mind?” Daemon asked as you walked down the corridor.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing at him. “But I had to try. For both our sakes.”

He was silent for a moment, then reached out to gently squeeze your hand. “If he doesn’t, I’ll find another way. I won’t let him take you from me.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but you said nothing, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of you as you continued walking together through the shadowed halls of the Red Keep.

You and Daemon walked together through the halls of the Red Keep, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words. The weight of your conversation with Viserys bore down on your shoulders, leaving you feeling drained and uncertain.

You glanced at Daemon, his expression unreadable as he walked beside you. Though his face betrayed little, you knew him well enough to sense the storm of emotions brewing within him.

“I love him, you know,” you said softly, breaking the silence. Your voice wavered slightly, but you kept your gaze forward.

Daemon stopped walking, forcing you to halt as well. He turned to face you, his silver hair catching the faint light from the torches lining the walls.

“I know,” he replied, his tone low but steady. “You’ve always loved Viserys. Just as you’ve always loved me.”

You swallowed hard, your heart tightening at the truth of his words. “But it’s not the same,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes softened, the anger and frustration from earlier giving way to something deeper—something raw and vulnerable.

“I’ve always known that too,” he said, stepping closer to you. “And I’ve never cared. Because I know you, just as you know me. You don’t want to lose him, but you’re terrified of losing me.”

You felt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t want to lose either of you,” you whispered.

Daemon reached out, his fingers brushing against yours before taking your hand firmly in his. “You won’t lose me,” he said, his voice firm. “No matter what happens. Viserys can scheme and command all he likes, but I will not let him separate us.”

His words sent a wave of relief through you, though the fear still lingered. You knew how determined Viserys could be, and you knew the lengths Daemon would go to defy him.

“You promise?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

He tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I promise,” he said, his tone carrying that familiar hint of mischief. “Even if I have to burn the realm to the ground, I will not lose you.”

You let out a shaky laugh, his words both comforting and unsettling. But that was Daemon—wild, unpredictable, and fiercely loyal to those he loved.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you said, squeezing his hand.

He chuckled softly, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “With Viserys as king, it just might.”

The two of you resumed walking, the tension between you eased but not entirely gone. You didn’t know what the future held, but as long as Daemon was by your side, you felt a flicker of hope amidst the uncertainty.

Two days had passed since your conversation with Viserys, and in those two days, the weight of his decision loomed over you like a storm cloud. Despite the pressure, you and Daemon continued to find solace in each other, meeting in secret within your chambers or his, navigating the hidden paths of Maegor’s Holdfast with the ease of familiarity.

This morning, however, was different. A summons had come from Viserys, commanding both you and Daemon to meet him in the council chamber. The air was heavy with anticipation as you and Daemon walked side by side through the Red Keep, the silence between you filled with unspoken thoughts.

When you entered the chamber, Viserys was already seated at the head of the table. His expression was stern but not unkind, and you noticed a hint of weariness in his eyes. The room was empty save for the three of you, the absence of the councilors adding to the tension.

Viserys gestured for you both to approach, and as you stepped forward, he sighed deeply, his hands resting on the arms of his chair.

“I’ve thought long and hard about this,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with exhaustion. “And I’ve come to a decision.”

You exchanged a glance with Daemon, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I was wrong to try to dictate your futures without considering your wishes,” Viserys admitted, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You were right, sister. I made my choice with Aemma, and it was a choice I was fortunate to have. You and Daemon deserve the same.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his words sinking in.

“I’ve informed House Lannister and House Royce that the arrangements have been canceled,” Viserys continued, his tone firm. “You will marry each other, as you both clearly desire. I only hope this decision brings you happiness and strengthens our house.”

Daemon let out a quiet laugh, the sound laced with relief and triumph. “You’ve finally seen reason, brother,” he said, his smirk unmistakable.

Viserys shot him a pointed look but didn’t argue. Instead, he turned back to you, his expression softening further. “I only ask one thing of you both,” he said.

“What is it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Do not let your love for each other blind you to the responsibilities you bear as members of House Targaryen,” he said. “The realm looks to us for guidance, for strength. Be each other’s strength, but never forget the weight of the crown.”

You nodded, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Thank you, Viserys. I promise we will honor our house and our family.”

Daemon’s hand found yours, his grip firm and reassuring. “You have my word as well, brother,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

Viserys smiled faintly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Then it is settled. The preparations will begin at once.”

As you and Daemon left the chamber, the reality of what had just transpired began to sink in. For the first time in days, you felt a sense of hope and relief, the weight of uncertainty lifted from your shoulders.

Daemon turned to you, his smirk returning as he leaned closer. “It seems the gods favor us after all,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You laughed softly, your heart light for the first time in what felt like forever. “Perhaps they do,” you replied, your hand tightening around his.

As the two of you walked through the halls together, you couldn’t help but feel that this was the beginning of something extraordinary—a union born not of duty, but of love and unyielding loyalty.

You laughed uncontrollably as Daemon suddenly lifted you off the ground, throwing you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.

“Daemon! Put me down this instant!” you demanded, half-laughing, half-protesting, as you squirmed in his grip.

He only chuckled, his voice rich with amusement. “Not a chance, sweet sister. A betrothal like ours deserves to be celebrated.”

“Celebrated? By making a spectacle of me?” you shot back, still laughing as he carried you with effortless confidence.

“Precisely,” he replied smugly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Daemon strode confidently to where his horse was waiting. Setting you down briefly, he helped you into the saddle before mounting behind you, his arms resting comfortably around your waist as he took the reins.

“And where exactly are we going?” you asked, trying to sound annoyed, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips.

“To the Dragonpit,” Daemon replied, urging the horse forward.

“The Dragonpit?” you repeated, your curiosity piqued.

He grinned, leaning closer to your ear. “Caraxes and Maraxes deserve to know about our betrothal, don’t you think?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of your dragon, Maraxes, and Daemon’s Caraxes. The two dragons had always shared a bond, much like their riders.

The ride through the bustling streets of King’s Landing was exhilarating, Daemon’s confidence radiating behind you. His presence was as steady as the rhythm of the horse’s hooves, and you found yourself leaning into him slightly, the excitement of the moment overtaking your initial protests.

When you arrived at the Dragonpit, the cavernous structure loomed before you, filled with the faint echoes of dragon growls. Daemon dismounted first, his hands quick to help you down.

Inside, the air was thick with heat and the unmistakable energy of dragons. You immediately spotted the familiar forms of Caraxes and Maraxes, their red and silver scales gleaming faintly in the dim light.

Daemon smirked as Caraxes let out a low growl, his serpentine neck arching toward his rider. “There’s my boy,” he murmured, stepping closer to greet his dragon.

Meanwhile, Maraxes let out a low rumble of recognition, her sharp eyes locking onto you. You approached her with a smile, placing a hand on her warm scales. "Hi my love," The bond between you and your dragon was as strong as ever, a connection forged over years of shared battles and flights.

“Do you think they approve?” you asked, glancing at Daemon as he ran a hand along Caraxes’ neck.

He smirked, his eyes glinting with that familiar mischief. “They’ll have to. They’re bound to each other, just like we are.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his audacity, though his words carried a truth you couldn’t deny. Standing there together with your dragons, it felt as if the world had aligned perfectly for this moment—a celebration not just of your betrothal, but of the bond you shared, one that had always felt inevitable.

You watched the Dragonkeeper closely, noting the concern in their eyes as they observed Caraxes and Maraxes. One of them, a young man who had worked with dragons for years, hesitated before speaking.

“Maraxes and Caraxes have been acting out recently,” he said, voice low. “They’ve been more aggressive than usual, particularly Maraxes. We thought something was wrong.”

The other Dragonkeeper, an older woman, nodded in agreement. “It’s unlike them. We’ve been keeping a close eye, but nothing we do seems to settle them.”

You exchanged a glance with Daemon, who stood quietly beside you. The air around them felt thick with the dragons’ restlessness. However, as the Dragonkeepers’ gazes shifted toward you and Daemon, their expressions shifted from concern to shock.

Maraxes, normally a force of nature, moved with an uncharacteristic calmness. She stepped forward slowly, lowering her massive head toward you. Then, in an almost deliberate motion, she nudged you gently, pushing your body toward the area where she and Caraxes slept. It was a soft nudge, but it was clear that she wanted you to follow.

“Maraxes…” you murmured in surprise, but you allowed the dragon to guide you. You took a cautious step forward, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you. Daemon followed close behind, a knowing look in his eyes.

As you reached the resting place of your dragons, your breath caught in your throat. There, nestled among the bedding of fireproofed hay and soft stone, lay four dragon eggs.

The sight of the eggs made your heart skip a beat. You knelt slowly, reaching out with trembling fingers. The eggs were large, their shells shimmering with an iridescent glow, a mixture of deep reds and silvers that mirrored the colors of Maraxes and Caraxes.

Daemon stood behind you, his eyes softening as he spoke. “This… explains everything,” he murmured. “They’ve been guarding these. Their aggression, their restlessness—it was to protect their future.”

You felt a rush of emotions—pride, awe, and a profound sense of connection. The change in Maraxes and Caraxes was not just a random shift in their behavior; they had been preparing for something, something bigger than the two of you had expected.

“I didn’t know��” you whispered, your fingers tracing the smooth surface of one of the eggs. “They were expecting.”

Daemon moved to stand beside you, his voice low and reverent. “Neither did I. But it makes sense now. They’ve been waiting for their offspring. They’ve always been protective, but now… this is their legacy.”

The Dragonkeeper, who had been watching in stunned silence, finally spoke. “It’s extraordinary. The dragons have chosen to trust you both in ways we never imagined. Not only are they accepting of you as their riders, but now, they’ve given you their future.”

You felt a sense of awe wash over you, realizing that this moment was more significant than anything you could have imagined. Caraxes and Maraxes were not just dragons bound to their riders—they were family, and they were passing on their legacy to you.

Daemon placed a hand on your shoulder, his gaze intense but filled with something softer, something deeper. “This is just the beginning, my love. We have something far greater ahead of us now.”

You nodded, the weight of the moment settling in. You had always known that your bond with Daemon and the dragons was something extraordinary, but now, you understood just how much more it truly was.

The eggs lay there, waiting, as if the dragons were telling you both that they were ready for this next chapter—to share their legacy, their power, and their future with you.

After returning to the Red Keep with Daemon from the Dragonpit, the exhilaration of discovering the dragon eggs still lingered in your mind. As you made your way through the corridors, a servant approached and informed you that Queen Aemma had requested your presence in her chambers.

You exchanged a glance with Daemon, who smirked slightly. “Go on,” he said, his tone teasing. “I’m sure she’s been planning our wedding more than we have.”

Rolling your eyes but smiling softly, you left Daemon and made your way to Aemma’s chambers. When you entered, you found her seated near the window, her delicate hands working on a piece of embroidery. The golden light of the setting sun bathed the room in a warm glow, and she looked up with a gentle smile as you approached.

“There you are,” she said warmly, setting aside her work. “I was beginning to think I’d have to send someone to drag you here.”

You laughed softly and took a seat across from her. “I was at the Dragonpit with Daemon,” you explained. “But I came as soon as I heard you wanted to see me.”

Aemma’s smile widened, but there was a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “Ah, Daemon. I suppose he’s too busy parading you around on dragonback to think about the details of your wedding.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again, feeling a sense of comfort in Aemma’s presence. She had always been kind and supportive, treating you more like a sister than just her sister-in-law.

“I thought we could discuss the arrangements,” Aemma continued, her tone softening. “Your gown, the feast, the decorations… all the things that men don’t think about.”

You nodded, grateful for her guidance. “I’d appreciate that, Aemma. I’ve hardly had time to think about any of it.”

She reached for a small chest beside her and opened it, revealing swatches of fabric in various shades and textures. “I had these brought in for you,” she said, holding up a piece of silvery fabric that shimmered in the light. “I thought this might suit you—something that reflects your connection to your dragon and your Targaryen heritage.”

You ran your fingers over the fabric, marveling at its softness and beauty. “It’s perfect,” you said, already envisioning the gown that would be made from it.

Aemma smiled, her expression thoughtful. “You’ll look radiant,” she said. “And I know Daemon won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

The warmth in her voice made your heart swell, and you reached out to squeeze her hand. “Thank you, Aemma. For everything.”

She squeezed your hand in return, her gaze steady and full of affection. “You’re family,” she said simply. “And you deserve to be happy.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and planning as you and Aemma discussed every detail of the wedding. For the first time in days, you felt a sense of peace, knowing that you were surrounded by love and support as you prepared for this new chapter in your life.

As you opened the door to your chambers, the familiar warmth of the room greeted you, along with the sight of Daemon standing near the fireplace. The golden glow of the flames reflected off his silver hair, giving him an almost ethereal presence. His arms were crossed casually over his chest, but there was an intensity in his gaze as he turned to face you.

“You’re here,” you said, raising an eyebrow as you approached. “I expected you to be… elsewhere. At the brothel, perhaps, celebrating your last night of freedom with Mysaria.” Your tone was teasing, but there was an edge of curiosity beneath it.

Daemon chuckled, the sound low and rich, as he stepped closer to you. “Is that what you think of me?” he asked, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Is it not true?” you countered, tilting your head. “You’ve always been so fond of such places. Why not indulge one last time before you can’t go back without consequences?”

He laughed again, this time louder, and shook his head. “You’re sharper than a Valyrian steel blade, aren’t you?” he said, his voice tinged with amusement. “But no. I haven’t set foot in a brothel—or seen Mysaria—since you came of age.”

That caught you off guard. You stared at him, trying to process his words. “What?”

Daemon stepped even closer, his expression softening as he looked down at you. “Do you really think I’d waste my time there, knowing what I know now? After realizing how much of myself I gave to the wrong people, the wrong pursuits?”

You blinked, still trying to make sense of his words. “What are you saying, Daemon?”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch was gentle, but his gaze was anything but—it was intense, almost searing. “I’m saying that for too long, I gave my attention to the wrong women. Women who didn’t matter. Because I was too blind to see what was right in front of me.”

Your breath caught, your heart pounding in your chest. “Daemon…”

He smiled then, a rare, genuine smile that softened his features. “You’ve always been the only one who mattered,” he said softly. “And I’m not going to waste another moment pretending otherwise.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, you could only stare at him, your emotions a whirlwind of disbelief, hope, and something far deeper.

“Then why are you here?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “If not to celebrate your last night of freedom?”

Daemon’s smile turned into a smirk as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Because I’m not losing my freedom,” he murmured. “I’m gaining you.”

The fire crackled softly in the background as his words hung in the air, and for the first time, you realized just how much this marriage meant—not just to you, but to him as well.

Daemon’s gaze softened as your hand gently caressed his cheek, your touch tender and full of unspoken emotions. His lips parted slightly as if to say something, but before he could, you rose onto your toes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

For a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you. When you finally pulled back, your eyes met his, a quiet intensity passing between you.

“I’m lucky to have you, Daemon,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The raw honesty in your tone made his jaw tighten, though his eyes glimmered with something vulnerable.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you continued before he could, your hand still cradling his cheek. “If our father were still here…” you paused, a pang of sorrow in your chest, “he’d be proud of us. Of you, especially.”

Daemon’s expression faltered for a moment, his confident facade cracking as he absorbed your words. His hand came up to cover yours on his face, his touch warm and steady. “You truly believe that?” he asked softly, his voice almost uncertain, as if he needed to hear the answer more than anything else.

You nodded, your thumb brushing against his cheekbone. “I do. He would have seen the man you’ve become—the man who fights for what he wants, who protects those he loves. He’d be proud of you, Daemon. Just as I am.”

Daemon exhaled deeply, his forehead leaning against yours. “You give me too much credit,” he muttered, though there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Not nearly enough,” you countered gently, your own lips curving into a smile.

For a long moment, the two of you stood there, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence, the flickering firelight casting soft shadows around the room. It was a moment of quiet understanding, a bond stronger than any words could convey.

And in that moment, you knew—no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had each other, you could face anything.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence near the window of your chambers, the cool night air filtering in as stars scattered across the dark sky. Daemon’s arm was wrapped possessively around your waist, his grip firm yet comforting. Your head rested against his shoulder, and the steady rise and fall of his chest matched the rhythm of your own breathing.

He broke the silence, his voice low and curious. “Why did you name your dragon Maraxes?”

The question made you smile softly as you turned your gaze toward him. He was looking down at you with a mixture of curiosity and fondness, his fingers absentmindedly tracing small circles on your side.

“She reminded me of Rhaenys’ Maraxes,” you said after a moment, your tone thoughtful. “The strength, the grace… Even as a hatchling, she carried herself like she knew she was born to be something great.”

Daemon smirked faintly, his eyes reflecting the dim glow of the moonlight. “And you always did have a penchant for the stories of our ancestors. I remember how you’d make me read them to you when we were younger.”

You chuckled, leaning further into his warmth. “Those stories are part of who we are, Daemon. Rhaenys and Maraxes… they were a force to be reckoned with. I wanted my dragon to carry that legacy, to remind the world of the power our family holds.”

He tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your temple as he spoke. “Maraxes suits her, just as you suit her. Both proud, unyielding, and utterly impossible to ignore.”

You laughed quietly, a soft blush creeping into your cheeks. “And what of Caraxes?” you asked, glancing up at him with a teasing smile. “He’s as wild and unpredictable as his rider.”

Daemon grinned, unbothered by your playful jab. “Caraxes and I understand each other,” he replied. “We don’t need names steeped in history. We make our own.”

Your smile softened as you looked back at the sky. “That’s why we work, Daemon. I carry the weight of the past, and you carve the path for the future. Together, we balance each other.”

Daemon didn’t respond immediately, but the way he held you tighter said everything. In his embrace, you felt the promise of a shared destiny—one that neither history nor the future could take away.

Your wedding day was meant to be perfect, and every detail had been meticulously planned. Yet, the air was thick with tension as a heated argument unfolded between Daemon and Viserys.

Daemon stood firm, his voice sharp and unyielding. “We are Targaryens. The blood of Old Valyria flows through our veins. This wedding should honor our ancestors with an Old Valyrian ceremony.”

Viserys, seated on the Iron Throne, was equally resolute. “This is a union that will be celebrated across the Seven Kingdoms. You will marry in the sight of the Seven, as is tradition.”

You stood silently between them, your heart heavy as you watched your brothers clash. Daemon’s jaw was set in frustration, while Viserys exuded the authority of a king determined to have his way.

“I’ve allowed this match to proceed,” Viserys added, his tone sharp with warning. “But do not mistake my indulgence for weakness. If you insist on this foolishness, I’ll put an end to it. Daemon will wed Rhea Royce, and you will wed Jason Lannister.”

The room fell silent, the weight of Viserys’ threat sinking in. You looked at Daemon, whose expression was a mix of fury and disbelief. His hands clenched at his sides, and you knew he was moments away from saying something he would regret.

Before he could speak, you stepped forward, your voice calm but firm. “We will marry in the sight of the Seven,” you said, your words directed at Viserys but meant for Daemon as well.

Daemon turned to you, his eyes searching yours for an explanation. You met his gaze with quiet determination, silently pleading for his understanding.

“This is about more than just us,” you continued, your voice steady despite the turmoil in your heart. “A wedding in the tradition of the Seven will solidify our union in the eyes of the realm. It will bring stability, which is what we need most right now.”

Daemon’s jaw tightened, his frustration evident, but he said nothing. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “It doesn’t matter how we marry, Daemon. What matters is that we will be together.”

Viserys nodded approvingly, his stern expression softening slightly. “It’s good to see one of you understands the bigger picture,” he said, his tone dismissive.

Daemon didn’t respond to Viserys. Instead, he turned to you, his violet eyes filled with unspoken words. After a moment, he gave a curt nod, his hand brushing against yours in a silent promise.

As you left the throne room together, you whispered, “Thank you for trusting me.”

Daemon’s lips curved into a small, wry smile. “You’re lucky I love you,” he muttered.

Despite the tension, his words warmed your heart. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you would face them together.

You entered Aemma’s chambers, the faint scent of lavender filling the air as sunlight streamed through the windows. She stood near a mannequin, admiring a breathtaking white gown made of the finest silk. Her face lit up as she saw you approach, her hands clasped together in excitement.

“There you are,” Aemma said warmly, gesturing for you to come closer. “I’ve had this gown specially made for you. I want your wedding to outshine even mine.”

You stared at the gown in awe. The intricate embroidery shimmered in the light, delicate patterns of dragons and fire adorning the fabric. The train was long and flowing, a masterpiece of craftsmanship, while the fitted bodice sparkled with tiny gemstones.

“You’ll be the most beautiful bride the realm has ever seen,” Aemma said, her voice filled with determination. “This wedding will be the grandest of all, as it should be.”

You smiled softly, touched by her efforts. “You didn’t have to go to such lengths, Aemma.”

“Nonsense,” she replied, waving her hand dismissively. “You’re my sister now, and this is the happiest I’ve seen Daemon in years. This marriage is a celebration not just for you, but for the family.”

She guided you to stand before the gown, motioning for her handmaidens to help you try it on. The silk felt cool against your skin as the dress was carefully draped over you. Aemma adjusted the neckline, stepping back to admire her work.

“You look perfect,” she said, her eyes glistening with pride.

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, the sight taking your breath away. The gown fit you like it was made for you alone, the shimmering silk enhancing your natural beauty.

“I hope Daemon doesn’t cause trouble just so he can get a glimpse of you before the wedding,” Aemma teased, a playful smile on her lips. “He’s been restless ever since Viserys gave his approval. He might just break tradition.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “He’s always been impatient.”

Aemma took your hands, squeezing them gently. “I want you to know how happy I am for you,” she said, her voice soft with emotion. “You and Daemon… you belong together. This wedding will mark the beginning of something truly beautiful.”

Tears threatened to well in your eyes, but you blinked them away, nodding. “Thank you, Aemma. For everything.”

She smiled, pulling you into a warm embrace. In that moment, you felt the love and support of family surrounding you, giving you strength for the journey ahead.

After trying on the gown Aemma had prepared for you, you made your way to the throne room, which was abuzz with preparations for your fast-approaching wedding. Servants scurried about, setting up tables and arranging decorations with meticulous care. The banners of House Targaryen hung proudly from the walls, their red and black sigils casting a regal presence over the space.

You paused, taking it all in—the grandeur, the anticipation. This was more than just a wedding; it was a union that would be remembered for generations.

As you stood there, lost in thought, you felt a familiar warmth at your back. Daemon’s hands slid gently around your waist, his touch both possessive and comforting. He leaned in close, his breath brushing against your ear.

“I’ve seen you in your gown,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. “And I can already tell they’ll speak of your beauty for centuries.”

You turned your head slightly, catching his smirk from the corner of your eye. “You couldn’t wait, could you?” you replied, a mix of amusement and exasperation in your tone.

“Patience was never one of my virtues,” he admitted, his arms tightening around you. “But it’s not just the dress. It’s you. I’m not sure the Seven or even the old gods could have made something more perfect.”

You felt your cheeks flush, but you quickly composed yourself, glancing at the bustling preparations before you. “Everything is coming together,” you said softly. “It feels… surreal.”

Daemon shifted slightly, his chin resting lightly on your shoulder. “It’s fitting, isn’t it?” he said, his voice softer now. “A grand celebration for us. For what we are and what we will build together.”

You turned in his arms to face him, your eyes meeting his. “And what is that, Daemon?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“A legacy,” he replied without hesitation. “A bond stronger than dragonfire, one that no one—not even Viserys—can break.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the chaos around you seemed to fade away. All that remained was him, and the unyielding certainty in his gaze.

“Come,” he said suddenly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ve grown tired of watching others make preparations. Let’s see to the dragons instead. Let them know that soon, we’ll be joined as one.”

You couldn’t help but smile, allowing him to guide you away from the bustling throne room. As always, with Daemon by your side, the future felt both thrilling and inevitable.

You gently patted Maraxes’ powerful back, feeling the familiar warmth of her scales beneath your hand. The wind whipped through your hair as you soared high above the Red Keep, the world below appearing as small as a map laid out on a table.

Beside you, Daemon and Caraxes raced ahead, the Blood Wyrm’s elongated form slicing through the clouds with ease. Caraxes let out a piercing roar, its cry challenging the skies themselves.

Maraxes, not one to be outdone, responded with a thunderous roar of her own, her wings beating harder as she surged forward. You gripped her saddle tightly, leaning closer to her neck to encourage her.

“Show them, Maraxes,” you murmured with a grin, the thrill of the flight coursing through you. “Show them what you’re made of.”

With a sudden burst of speed, Maraxes lunged forward, her massive wings cutting through the air with precision. The distance between you and Daemon began to close rapidly.

Daemon glanced back, his silver hair shining under the sun, and you caught the smug smirk on his face falter as Maraxes closed in.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” you called out, your voice carrying over the roar of the wind.

He laughed, the sound carried to you by the wind. “Careful, my love,” he replied, steering Caraxes into a sharp dive. “I’d hate for you to lose your nerve.”

But you didn’t falter. Maraxes followed Caraxes’ lead, diving with grace and speed that rivaled even the most seasoned dragons. The ground rushed toward you, but you trusted her completely.

As you leveled out beside Daemon once more, the two dragons roared in unison, their voices blending into a symphony of power and dominance. You and Daemon exchanged a glance, the exhilaration of the ride mirrored in his eyes.

“Maraxes is a true queen,” he said, his tone filled with pride.

“And Caraxes a worthy prince,” you replied with a playful smirk.

Together, you guided your dragons into a synchronized ascent, their forms weaving through the sky like a dance. In that moment, it wasn’t just the bond between you and Daemon that felt unbreakable—it was the connection you shared with your dragons, the legacy you were creating together, and the love that burned as fiercely as dragonfire.

You dismounted Maraxes with practiced ease, patting her side gently as she let out a low, satisfied growl. You turned toward Daemon, who had already slid off Caraxes and was approaching you with a small smirk on his face.

The two dragons, seemingly understanding their riders had finished their flight, began to walk together toward the Dragonpit. Their massive tails swayed lazily as they moved side by side, a rare display of harmony between the two fierce creatures.

Daemon’s attention, however, was solely on you. His sharp violet eyes took in your slightly disheveled appearance, a teasing glint in them. Without saying a word, he reached out and gently tucked a strand of your hair back into place, his touch lingering for just a moment.

“You look as if you’ve just fought in a battle,” he said, his voice warm with amusement.

You laughed softly, brushing dirt from your sleeve. “Flying with Maraxes always feels like a battle—she doesn’t let me relax for even a moment.”

Daemon grinned, his gaze flickering to the retreating forms of the dragons. “She’s a reflection of her rider, then. Stubborn, relentless, and utterly magnificent.”

You rolled your eyes at his words but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your lips. “And what does that say about Caraxes, then?”

“Loyal, fierce, and just unpredictable enough to keep things interesting,” he replied smoothly, his grin widening.

Shaking your head, you allowed him to help you onto his black horse, a sleek and well-bred creature that always seemed to mirror its master’s confidence. Once you were comfortably seated, he climbed on behind you, wrapping an arm securely around your waist.

The ride back to the Red Keep was peaceful, the rhythmic clatter of the horse’s hooves filling the quiet between you. Daemon’s hold on you was firm yet comforting, and as the walls of the castle came into view, you leaned back slightly into him, finding solace in his presence.

“You know,” he murmured near your ear, breaking the silence, “this is how it should always be. You, me, and the dragons.”

You tilted your head slightly to glance back at him. “And what of the world that waits for us within those walls?”

Daemon’s lips curved into a wry smile. “Let the world wait. For now, it’s just us.”

His words settled over you like a warm blanket, and as you passed through the gates of the Red Keep, you couldn’t help but wish that this moment could stretch on forever.

The day of your wedding had finally arrived, and your chambers were bustling with activity even before the first rays of sunlight graced the horizon. Aemma, ever the perfectionist, had gathered her trusted ladies-in-waiting to ensure every detail of your preparation was flawless.

You sat before a large mirror, dressed in the finest silk undergarments, as one of the maids carefully wove intricate braids into your hair. Aemma hovered nearby, her sharp eyes inspecting every detail, from the embroidery on your gown to the gleaming jewelry laid out on the table.

“This will be the grandest wedding the realm has seen,” Aemma declared with confidence, adjusting the tiara that would soon rest on your head. “You will be the vision of perfection, as you deserve to be.”

You gave her a soft smile, but your attention was pulled elsewhere. From the corner of your eye, you could see the faint outline of Daemon standing behind the sheer curtain at the far end of the room. His unmistakable figure was partially hidden, but you could hear the faintest sound of his chuckle.

You turned slightly in your chair, catching the amused glint in his violet eyes through the thin fabric. “Daemon,” you said firmly, though your lips quirked into a knowing smile, “you’re not supposed to see me before the ceremony.”

His voice came through, low and teasing. “I’m only ensuring my bride is being treated properly. Wouldn’t want them to dull your shine before the day even begins.”

Aemma turned toward the sound, her face a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Daemon, you’re being ridiculous. Out!” she scolded, waving a hand toward the curtain.

He only laughed softly, his silhouette lingering for a moment longer. “I’ll see you soon,” he murmured, his tone laced with a promise, before retreating out of sight.

You shook your head, warmth blossoming in your chest despite yourself. Aemma returned her attention to you, adjusting the intricate neckline of your wedding gown with care.

“He adores you,” she said softly, her expression unexpectedly tender.

You met her gaze in the mirror, a quiet smile tugging at your lips. “And I, him.”

Aemma’s smile deepened, and she patted your shoulder gently. “Good. Now, let’s ensure you’re ready to take his breath away.”

You were fully prepared, dressed in the stunning gown Aemma had so carefully designed, every detail perfect. Now, it was Viserys who stood by your side in the carriage as you made your way to the Sept.

The ride was quiet, the clattering of the wheels over the stone streets filling the silence. Viserys sat across from you, his face soft yet tinged with a sadness he couldn’t entirely hide. His violet eyes lingered on you, taking in the serene expression on your face and the subtle joy radiating from you.

“You look… just like Mother,” he finally said, his voice low and thoughtful. “She would have been so proud to see you like this.”

You glanced at him, touched by his words. “And Father?” you asked gently.

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Father would’ve been furious that you were grown enough to marry,” he replied, his tone lightening. “But he’d have been proud, too. Proud of you and of the match you’ve made.”

The mention of Daemon brought a new look to his face—one of conflicted fondness. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. “You and Daemon… You’ve always been inseparable. I only hope this union will bring you happiness, as much as it does the realm.”

You smiled softly, your fingers lightly brushing over the delicate fabric of your gown. “Daemon and I will do our duty, but this marriage is not just for the realm. It is for us.”

Viserys’ gaze softened further. “You and Daemon, happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for either of you.”

As the carriage approached the Sept, you caught a glimpse of the banners of House Targaryen flying high, the crowds gathering to witness the union.

Viserys reached out and placed a reassuring hand over yours. “The realm will celebrate today, but remember, this is your moment. Take it, and let no one tell you otherwise.”

You nodded, your heart steady with resolve. Today, you would not just be a bride but a queen of your own destiny, standing beside the man who had always been your closest confidant and deepest love.

You walked gracefully down the aisle, your arm linked with Viserys’. The grand Sept was filled with lords, ladies, and knights from across the realm, all gathered to witness the union. The light from the stained-glass windows painted the room in hues of gold and red, illuminating the Targaryen banners that hung proudly from the high arches.

At the altar stood Daemon, his usual air of confidence softened by the rare, genuine smile gracing his lips as he watched you approach. His violet eyes held yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away.

Viserys gave your hand a gentle squeeze before passing it to Daemon. His expression was one of reluctant acceptance, but you knew he cared for you deeply. Daemon took your hand, his grip firm yet tender as he pulled you closer.

The septon began the ceremony, his voice echoing through the sacred hall. He spoke of duty, love, and the strength of bonds forged in the light of the Seven. You barely heard the words, your focus entirely on Daemon—the man who had been your constant companion, your fiercest protector, and now, your husband.

When the time came to exchange your vows, Daemon’s voice was steady, yet laced with emotion as he spoke:

“With fire and blood, I bind my life to yours. From this day until my last, I am yours, and you are mine.”

Your own voice did not waver as you responded:

“Through the storms and flames, I will stand by your side. My heart is yours, now and forever.”

The septon proclaimed you husband and wife, and the crowd erupted in applause as Daemon leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that sealed your union.

As you turned to face the cheering crowd, Daemon whispered into your ear, “You were born to be mine, and now, the realm knows it.”

The two of you walked down the aisle together, hand in hand, ready to face whatever the future held as one.

The cheers and laughter of the gathered lords and ladies filled the air as you and Daemon stepped into the Great Hall of the Red Keep. The grand space was adorned with Targaryen banners, their crimson and black colors illuminated by the glow of countless candles. Tables were laden with the finest foods and wines from across the realm, a feast fit to honor the union of House Targaryen’s bloodline.

Daemon’s arm rested over yours as you descended the steps from the royal carriage. His smirk grew as he surveyed the crowd, his confidence radiating as always. You could feel his pride not only in himself but also in you—his wife, his equal.

The room fell silent as you both entered the throne room. All eyes turned to you, their murmurs of awe unmistakable. Your gown shimmered under the light, its white and silver fabric a reflection of the stars themselves, while your Valyrian features were framed perfectly by the intricate braids of your hair.

Daemon leaned in close as you paused at the entrance, his lips brushing your ear.

“They’re not here to celebrate the feast,” he murmured with a teasing tone, “They’re here to see the most beautiful woman in the realm.”

You smiled and gave his arm a light squeeze, your gaze sweeping across the room before the two of you moved forward, walking together with regal poise. At the center of the hall, Viserys stood waiting for you both, his expression a mixture of relief and joy as he raised a goblet to toast your union.

“Tonight, we celebrate not just the joining of two hearts but the strength of House Targaryen!” Viserys declared, his voice carrying across the hall. “May their love burn as brightly as dragonfire and stand as strong as the stone of Dragonstone!”

The crowd erupted into applause, and the music began to play. Daemon turned to you with a playful glint in his eyes, extending his hand.

“Shall we give them a dance to remember, my wife?”

You took his hand with a soft laugh, allowing him to lead you to the center of the room. As the two of you began to dance, the rest of the hall seemed to blur into the background, leaving only the two of you, your love, and the fire of House Targaryen burning brightly in your hearts.

The music swelled through the hall as you and Daemon danced, your movements perfectly synchronized as though you had been dancing together all your lives. The room faded away, leaving only the two of you in each other’s gaze.

Daemon’s hand rested firmly on your waist, guiding you effortlessly across the floor, while his other hand held yours with a gentle yet possessive grip. His violet eyes were locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that only he could convey. There was no one else in the world for him in that moment but you.

“You are breathtaking,” he whispered softly, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You smiled, your heart warming at his words. “And you look every bit the rogue prince they whisper about,” you teased lightly, though your tone was filled with affection.

His smirk deepened, but the love in his eyes never faltered. “Let them whisper. They’ll never know the truth of how you’ve stolen my heart.”

The music continued, and the guests watched in awe as you and Daemon moved as one, the perfect embodiment of Targaryen royalty. The way he spun you, the way you moved together, and the way he brought you back into his arms spoke volumes—this was not just a marriage of duty, but of deep, undeniable love.

When the music ended, the hall erupted in applause, but Daemon did not release you right away. Instead, he pulled you closer, his forehead resting gently against yours as he whispered, “We are bound now, by fire and blood. Always.”

You nodded, your voice just as soft. “Always.”

As the applause echoed around you, Daemon pulled you in even closer, his breath warm against your skin. He didn’t wait for the crowd to settle, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was full of promise, passion, and love. The world around you disappeared as you melted into his embrace, the kiss deep and slow, as though he was claiming you in front of everyone.

The sound of distant chatter faded as you lost yourself in the moment, feeling the weight of the vows you had just exchanged, the love you had built, and the bond that now tied you together. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you for even a moment.

When the kiss finally broke, Daemon rested his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. “I never want to be without you,” he whispered, voice filled with raw sincerity.

You smiled, your heart full, and softly replied, “And you never will be.”

The crowd continued to cheer, but it was just the two of you in that moment, lost in each other, knowing that this was the beginning of your forever.

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