#Targaryen children had dragon themed toys!!

[tenthmuseondine]

𖤓Princess Elia of Dorne and her son, Prince Aegon Targaryen 𖤓

[yandereunsolved]

Blood & Cheese Reborn - ,, yandere Aegon w/ an assassin reader

cw(s): yandere themes, child murder, mentions of sa, mention of miscarriage, descriptive gore, sadistic aegon & reader, degredation, suggestive themes (mild nsfw)

𓍢ִ໋🀦 An assassin, the assassin as some would call you. No one was truly aware of your backstory. Some said you were a disgraced general turned mercenary. Others whispered that you used to be an executioner for the kingdom and went mad, turning you into a lunatic who maims and dismembers for money. There was debate on whether you were a man or a woman—perhaps a third gender. Were you tall or short, common or noble, handsome or pretty? You were a tale that was told to children at night to scare them into behaving.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 That is exactly why Daemon Targaryen hired you. He needed you to kill Aemond Targaryen, the one-eyed prince and kinslayer. It was simply a son for a son. You were paid handsomely for this killing—over six thousand gold padded your pockets. 

You knew a thing or two about these sorts of tiffs between nobles. You had to carve some nobles' wannabe rapists eyes out the other night. You weren't being paid for it; you simply felt the need to. A rumor turned into you avenging a young, sweet noblewoman.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 The night of your perfected plans was foiled by a rival of yours. 'King' Aegon was warned about Daemon hiring you, and dozens of guards were posted at each possible entrance and exit. There was only one way to get in, and that happened to be the room in which Helaena and her children occupied. You didn't regret what you did; you relished it. You giggled as the so-called 'queen' cried out for you not to slay her son. 

You didn't just kill him; you cut off all his fingers and toes and neatly lined them up next to his favorite stuffed dragon toy. You cut off Helaena's ring finger and did the same to her daughter. You kept them and later gifted them to Daemon and Rhaenyra. It was safe to say that you soon became Team Black's most sought-after asset. 

You never agreed to work with them, never pledged your loyalty; you simply were willing to work for whoever paid you the most.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 To say Aegon was angry was an understatement. Furious? Livid? Enraged? Irate? No, there was no culmination of words that could express how much Aegon wished to have you tortured, stripped naked, and displayed on a spike at the entrance of the castle for all to see. His fantasies ranged from sadistic to depraved. They were limitless. They took up all the space in his mind that was supposed to be delegated towards comforting his grieving wife and winning the war against the Blacks.

The only thought was to have you pay. It would be you first and then the rest. It had to be you. You committed the sin, so you must pay tenfold.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 He lay awake at night with his anguish and enmity the only ones keeping him company. He refused to look at his wife's face, so he moved himself to a spare bed chamber. He spent his nights downing bottle after bottle of wine. His eyes were teary and red, and the violet within them seemingly paled to a grey. His eyebags rivaled those of any grandfather, and his thirst for revenge was much higher than that of Maegor the Cruel.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 You visited every other night. You'd taunt him gleefully and always escape before any guards arrived. You always had a cloak engulfing your figure and a hood casting shadows over your features. You always sat on the edge of the window with both legs firmly planted on the ledge. Whenever he tried to reach out to touch you, you seemed to vanish. You never even entered the chambers. He could no longer distinguish whether you were a reality or just a visage of all his guilt and wrongdoings coming to seek retribution. 

𓍢ִ໋🀦 As the moons passed, the pressure on Aegon and Helaena to copulate increased. The man who was known to fuck multiple whores a night couldn't stand to touch his wife. It wasn't just the fear of losing another kin of his; it was also a certain repulsion. Her body no longer seemed like a viable option. Her curves and supple skin seemed so unappetizing. There was no urge to lick and bite to claim; he simply wanted her to stay as she was.

Helaena acted as if she were distressed at her husband's lack of motivation, but she was internally relieved. She doesn't know if she'll ever be able to carry a child again. She is already so much more protective over Jaehaera after Jaehaerys's brutal assassination.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 His cock ached, and the fog within his mind only thickened after each drop of alcohol he consumed. He had piles of parchment ranging from displeased smallfolk to plans of war. You hadn't visited him that night, and his entire thought process was only about you. He aimlessly palmed himself through his trousers and slipped into a dreamless sleep after. 

𓍢ִ໋🀦 His revenge was only able to fuel him for so long, and now his body is spent. He hadn't seen you in his window for almost a full moon, and he had begun to think that you had moved on. His heart broke more at the thought. He would never be able to avenge the death of his beloved son. He would never be able to carry the crown on his head without it weighing his head down to the ground. The war would be won by The Blacks, and Rhaenyra would sit on the throne. His family would die, and it would all be because he was too weak.

Like a dragon, he needed warmth, and it seemed as if he had been deprived of it for far too long.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 After two moons, you finally returned with that dreadfully melodic voice of yours. One leg was thrown over the side into his bedroom, and the other perched upon the ledge. His lifeless eyes barely opened until you ignited the flame within his belly once again.

"Did the little King miss me?"

No, he did not. He was simply worried that he had missed the chance for revenge. 

"I heard you can't get your dick up for your wife. You're even more pathetic than I thought you were. You'll never have another son to replace the one I killed at this rate. Such a shame. I was looking forward to murdering that one to!"

He shot out of bed and tried to grab a hold of your cloak. He merely stumbled and fell flat on his face.

"Stupid boy, you never learn."

Like the winds you moved. One moment within his reach, and the next, halfway down the castle wall, to only the gods know where.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 He's slightly ashamed to say that's the first time he's been able to relieve himself since his son's death. He imagined how you appeared and how you would look standing over him. That smug smirk on your features, the one so evident in your voice. Cock or breasts—both, neither, either—he didn't care. He was simply too willing to be looked down upon—just so he could titter and then slaughter you.

Filled with such conflicting emotions, two beasts fought over what course of action was needed. He would have to keep you for questioning, surely. If he killed you outright, then he wouldn't have a chance to know about his opposition.

He couldn't stop biting down on his lips to suppress his noises. He couldn't help the few tears that escaped the eyes that were temporarily a vibrant violet. He whined in a manner undignified and unbecoming of a king. Your title simply falls past his swollen lips with heavy breaths. 

"Stupid fucking assassin."

"Just an insignificant assassin."

"A-Assassin."

"Mommy."

𓍢ִ໋🀦 He felt invigorated for the first time since your appearance. His thoughts became more violent, twice as lewd. No one knew what happened with him that night. No one could know. His mother interrogated him, and he simply said that he made a change. Alicent did not buy that excuse for one moment but didn't press further. As long as he got his act together and ruled like a king, she was satisfied.

She did send Ser Criston to investigate, and he came back with a gash in his chest and a wound right above his navel, courtesy of you.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 She couldn't help but rush him to the maester. She doted on him after behind closed doors. He deserved it after everything he had been through. Alicent couldn't help but feel as if it were some slight towards her. As if this assassin knew her secret, her love.

"Ser Criston, it was that damned assassin that harmed you, wasn't it?"

"Yes, my queen."

She wished to blame Aegon. The assassin never seemed to take notice of anyone else in the family after the horrific tragedy of Jaehaerys's untimely death. You only seemed to harass her eldest son. She suspected it to be Aemond, who was your original target. Why not kill him now? 

She should chastise her son for not being more vigilant. He was the second most grief striken; he pledged revenge over and over, yet the one who committed the action always escaped him without so much as a scratch. She only lectured Aegon further and spoke about how he should rekindle his relationship with Helaena.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 Aegon could barely find it in himself to bed his wife. He was nearly being forced to do so by his court and mother, but he could only look at Helaena and see your hooded figure. He had never felt more fulfilled than imagining your body was the one beneath him instead of hers.

Helaena was absent as always, her mind drifting off into thoughts of the future. She did not mind Aegon's method, but she wasn't entirely enthusiastic about being put through it.

Something felt off to her—a foreboding sensation that crept from her stomach into her soul. It made her spine tingle. Her chest would tighten to the point where she was barely able to take a breath.

It was because of a dream she recently had—a reoccurring one. Someone else was cradling the dragon egg she promised for her next child, as it seemed that she would have to perform her duty and bear another. She could tell by their hands that it was not her holding the egg. The hands had many more callouses and a multitude of scars.

She only verbalized it to a single person.

They were a kind traveler simply passing through. She knows she shouldn't have burdened a stranger; they could have been a spy, but it just felt right to do so.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 It was the first time he had slept in the same bed as his wife since the incident. So, like a predator, you struck when he was vulnerable and spent once again. He can't lie; his heart palpitated and his violet pupils dilated due to more than just the darkness. He could feel his body flushing once again after being graced with the outline of your figure standing at the edge of his room. He dared not to speak first. For a moment, he wanted to drag you into this bed instead of tying you down and beating the answers out of you.

You could see the need in his violet irises. The draconic king was ravenous and wanted to devour you. It was so endearing. You were only here for answers, as always. Daemon eagerly shoved gold into your hands so he could receive the information you collected. It was a win-win. You got to play with the king and then go undercover for answers. You even caught a kingsguard the other day, the queens plaything. Now you get to see a mama's boy with a confused libido, all because of little old you.

"Is your precious wifey full of another of your kin yet? Did you enjoy it? Did you think of me? Oh, mommy~. You're just a love-starved boy, aren't you?"

How did you know that one word escaped his lips over seven nights ago? God's damn it. He meant nothing by it. It wasn't even directed toward the assassin. It wasn't directed toward anyone! He was so drunk out of his mind that he could have said something asinine, and you would have taken it as purely sexual.

He was stunned for a moment and then refused to speak. He wouldn't give you the pleasure.

"Baby boy is mad at his mommy, or would you prefer to call me daddy? You can call me that since you don't have one of those either."

"Assassin—"

You were gone, hurriedly this time. He just barely got a glimpse of your features being shone in the moonlight. He now had another problem to take care of, all thanks to you—stupid... person.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 It had been over eleven moons since your first appearance. Many people had fallen in war and illness; there were talks of King's Landing being taken over. Helaena was with child and then miscarried due to the stress she was under. His wife is now in a deep depression, and Aegon himself is struggling to keep the crumbling greens together. 

He could no longer say that he despised you, for he found solace in your mocking words. He needed to keep you in his presence. He needed to cage you. He needed to show you who you belonged to.

What if you left him? What if you decided that he had become too much of a bore? What if you chose to—what is he thinking?

This is all part of your plan.

You won't win.

You'll end up bent over the war room table, begging to be forgiven by him.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 That's what he thinks. It's what words he may dare to spill from his lips. He had to move to a separate chamber if he was to get back at you. It was the only thing that kept him sane. The thought of finally kneading your flesh and claiming it as his. To think of whispering tantalizing words into your ear, for you to whine and come undone as he has because of you.

His goblet is almost empty as the hour of ghosts arrives. You always appear at this time, until you don't. You turn up during the hour of the wolf, weakened. You have a hand clutching your side, and your breathing is ragged. There's a trail of blood marking the edge of the window. Your gloved hand was a deep crimson, leaving the prints of your agony behind on whatever you clung to.

He's half-clothed. He feels the urge to shed the rest of the layers as soon as he lays his eyes on you. His eyes were semi-lidded, and now they are greedily taking in such a precious sight. A gift from the gods.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 You collapsed on the stone floor before him. Your features are easily accessible for his consumption. His nimble fingers slipped the hood of the cloak off your face, and he felt as if he had won the war right then and there. 

"The blacks most valuable asset laying right beneath me. Do you regret your words now, ñuha sentys₍₁₎?"

"Never."

Even your voice was hoarse, so soft and unconfident, unlike the tone you used to spit vitriolic words at him for so many moons. 

His hands were vigorously shaking. His mind began outpacing his ability to comprehend.

He had you within his grasp. What was he now going to do?

Lua ao, zȳhon byka ruarilaksa.₍₂₎

𓍢ִ໋🀦 He would later learn that there were rumors of you getting ambushed. You had come back to kill off his younger brother, and you were jumped by a group of mercenaries. He was unable to scavenge any further details of the fight, except for the fact that you became injured and still tried to follow through with your plan. Aemond stated that he saw your figure briefly. Aemond was speaking with another kingsguard at that time. Then you must have retreated to his room for some unknown reason. 

The story is strange, but considering the scarcity of true tales about you and your elusiveness, it isn't unbelievable.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 You would later be forced into some hastily thrown-together room in a secluded part of the dungeons. You awoke to the long gash in your side cleaned and bandaged, your limbs shackled, and your fine fabrics used to conceal yourself replaced with some useless, dainty nightgown. 

The dungeon room was mostly bare. There wasn't a guard to be seen, but you could hear the faint voices of at least two down the corridor. It had a cot with a blanket and a feather-filled pillow. An old rug was placed on the grimey stones. It left you with a bit of padding. The entire cell stinks of rotten flesh and broken spirits. 

You loved it.

It was the perfect place to escape from.

You just needed to heal and find some way to slip out of these chains. You could then steal a guard's uniform and get out of this horrid sleepwear.

It's so thin you can nearly your skin through the translucent cloth.

Damn king.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 You would not see him until the morrow. You broke your fast with a bowl of porridge and two slices of bread. You were given a glass of dry Arbor red wine. All the while, Aegon was staring at you with an expression you couldn't quite decipher. You weren't shy about scarfing down the food. You were irritated that he now knows of your features and perhaps others, but it wasn't the end of your career.

You have been known by many names in your years of assassinry. You have had to erase your past on numerous occasions.

It wouldn't be the first time you had to kill a king. It certainly won't be the last.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 This became a monotonous routine. Aegon would bring you your meals and you would eat them in silence. He never said a word to you. He simply stared at you, seemingly appraising you. You were still unable to tell his thoughts. You knew that he was wrapped around your finger. That much was made clear to you.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 Aegon kept every guard's mouth shut and didn't allow any of his family members to know you were down in the dungeons. They may try to kill you! Only he is allowed to decide your fate. After all, he is the true ruler of the Iron Throne.

He does suspect that Daemon and Rhaenyra will eventually notice your absence. He doesn't know the inner workings of your relationship with the Blacks, but you must be close enough to where they would become concerned.

He'd lie awake at night and think about it once again. There were so many things he could do to you that he became paralyzed by the opportunity before him.

He simply kissed his wife's head and made his way down to the dungeons once again.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 Aegon decided to do what you had been depriving him of for so long. He gives into that need for you, and you so willingly reciprocate. He gets lost in it. He almost loses his mind entirely. He can't decide whether he enjoys degrading you or being degraded by you more. 

It becomes a daily thing for him. An addiction that he doesn't wish to acknowledge or stop.

He never takes off your chains or gives you moon tea. If you miraculously bore his child, then perhaps he would let you.

Oh, it becomes a regularly occurring fantasy for him.

You bearing a male heir for him. The male heir that would replace the son you took. He would never allow you to have your child. He would raise it as if it was Helaena's. The look of anguish and the hurt in your voice to be denied the thing you created. It fills him with a crazed glee.

Perhaps you can't have kids at all, but it doesn't stop his dream of giving himself pleasure and making you suffer to the cruelest extent.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 He dresses you up in the skimpiest and frilliest things he can find. It's partially for his viewing pleasure and partially so you won't have anything to escape in. It's safe to say that it never stays on you for very long. 

Anything to remind you that you're beneath him.

Always.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 He uses you as a release for all his pent up emotions. He shares random things about himself and his day. He asks you questions about yourself and hangs onto every word you say. He no longer sees your jabs at him as hate filled; no, they've been playful and loving all along. You just wanted his attention. That's why you've done all these unforgivable things.

You're insecure.

He understands that. He needs to pay more attention to you.

So he carves his name into you with his precious dagger. He marks you in any way that pleases him; he loves to keep them fresh. He just needs to make sure that you know who you belong to. 

He doesn't want to see you getting into a tizzy and attacking him again, even if it excites him.

𓍢ִ໋🀦 Since capturing you, the progress of the opposition has slowed. He has been winning numerous battles. The Greens have gained significant ground.

Who are you, truly?

How big of a part have you really played in this civil war?

He has to know. So he goes back down to the dungeon with an even more urgent need for information. 

You're gone.

"Mittys, mittys, mittys! Eminna zirȳ arlī. Nyke'll emagon se guard's bartos bona ivestragī zirȳ henujagon!"₍₃₎

You only left a hastily scribbled note with a few barely legible words on it.

"𝘜𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨."

— 𝘈ō𝘩𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺𝘴₍₄₎

ᝰ translation(s) ᝰ.ᐟ

1. ñuha sentys = my killer

2. Lua ao, zȳhon byka ruarilaksa. = Keep you, his little secret.

3. Mittys, mittys, mittys! Eminna zirȳ arlī. Nyke'll emagon se guard's bartos bona ivestragī zirȳ henujagon! = Idiot, idiot, idiot! I will have them back. I'll have the guard's head that let them leave/escape.

4. Aōha sentys = Your killer

𖹭 tag: ( @eexphoria ) 𖹭

[paulyenvol6]

A Dragon's Toy

Daemon Targaryen x Arlis Hightower (oc character) OS

Arlis is taken captive by Daemon's army during the war and can only await the Rogue Prince's next deeds in horror…

Contains: rape, non-con, smut, oral (f & m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, virginity loss, forced orgasms, degrading, angst, crying, choking, gagging, objectification, captivity, dark themes, hotd themes like death and violence

Wordcount: ~6.62k

Masterlist

Daemon inhaled deeply.

He tried not to seem too annoyed but they really made it hard for him right now.

"We need more men by the eastside of the camp." "They are tired, my lord. Give them the chance to rest or they will lose their will to fight." "The Greyjoys could use our ignorance after our victory and surprise us. We need these guards." "They won't attack us tonight. They're weakened as well."

Daemon once again rolled his eyes at this draining atmosphere and hissed out. It was a quiet sound, merely audible and yet the men surrounding him stopped the conversation to turn their attention to the rogue prince.

"My prince.", Ser Rickard Manderly spoke and Daemon tilted his head.

"Gather the men you need by the eastside. But let them celebrate. They can guard the camp in shifts."

A few lords nodded but others looked uncertain while exchanging glances with each other. For some reason it made the blood in his veins boil and he fisted his hands. Gods, why were these men always so tiring and dull. All Daemon wanted after this long fight was a possibility to reduce the adrenaline in his body that always kept him aroused after a battle. Preferable with a whore but as the next whorehouse was tens of miles away he knew that he perhaps had to fall back to his own hand this time. The fact was that he needed quietness, maybe had to spill his seed, get rid of the tension in his center and find some good sleep afterwards.

That was why this conversation with his bannermen and commanders was exhausting him right now because all he wanted was the peace and privacy of his tent in order to act according to his desires.

"Is there anything else?", he therefore asked the group and when they shook their heads Daemon crossed his arms in front of his chest. The had hesitated but it didn't matter to him.

"Good. If you would excuse me now.", he sarcastically smiled and intended to leave the council.

To his tent now. His blood was throbbing, he had the urge to hit something or squeeze something. He just had to do something. Daemon was so close to it when someone called his name. So fucking close that he had almost been able to feel the fabric that served as the door to his tent and that he had been about to shove to the side. But of course not. Of course it was Ser Enies who made him freeze in the motion and Daemon couldn't hide the displeasure on his face.

"My prince. My prince, there is an urgent matter that needs to be discussed."

He inhaled deeply again and bit his buttom lip in fury. "What is it?", he snapped.

Ser Enies held his side trying to calm his fastened breath.

"We… We've captured Otto's daughter. She intended to flee but a few of our riders found her on her way to the west."

Daemon raised his eyebrows. "Alicent?"

"No, her sister. The lady Arlis."

He didn't know her. He had only briefly known that Hightower, the old cunt had several sons and daughters. Well, now he was dead and as were many of his children but seemingly not all.

"Where is she?", Daemon unwillingly asked. He wished someone else would just take on his tasks so he could finally rest but of course as the prince it was him who had to solve every single problem.

"Right there in the tent. She was so wild and upset, we had to chain her to a chair. She screamed and shouted and bit several of our men but we have her under control now."

Daemon couldn't surpress a dark chuckle. Were these his warriors or fools? Not being able to catch a little girl… Nevertheless the rogue prince turned his body away from the tent that he had wanted to enter so dearly and decided to take care of this matter now.

"Fine.", he grumbled and followed Ser Eries to the mentioned tent. The knight pulled the tent flap aside and Daemon stepped in.

The first thing he saw was a lot of hair. Brown, messy hair that stood up to all sides. She was moving, desperately trying to free herself from the iron chains that held her in place but obviously she wasn't able to.

Ser Eries, who was the only person in the tent now beside him and the girl came forward and roughly grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back so Daemon could take a look at her.

"The lady Arlis, my prince. Otto's youngest daughter from the lady Ellena."

She was pretty, was the first thought that entered his brain in this moment. Big round hazel eyes with thick lashes that made them appear even more intense, a heart-shaped face and full pink soft-looking lips. A button nose sat in the middle of her face which was swollen and flushed from her crying. The light freckles on her cheeks only added to her young and innocent looks and even now tears were swimming in her flashing eyes. With those she observed him now. The girl looked angry, aggressive almost and blared her teeth at him.

It was a brief moment. Daemon hadn't even properly thought about it and didn't really know where it was coming from but suddenly he heard himself say those words that made Eries raise his eyebrows.

"Leave us."

The knight obeyed, bowed his head and then only Daemon and Arlis were staring at each other.

"Let me go.", she spitted and he chuckled quietly.

"Fuck you and the whole pack of you.", she then added and shook the shackles that held her in place.

Daemon looked her up and down with relish and pursed his lips. "I would say the same thing about your pack, but well… They're all dead."

Arlis' expression hardened and she bit her lower lip in order to swallow her tears but she only partly suceeded.

"Fuck you.", she repeated but this time it was a lot more quiet which made Daemon smirk.

Then he approached her and the girl stiffened at once. He could see the fear in her eyes and it filled him with a profane desire and satisfaction. He didn't care how fucked up this was, but Daemon wanted this. He wanted to scare her, make her eyes go round as coins when she stared up to him and preferably see her cry. And he thought that he might have good chances because she seemed to be the crying type.

Daemon grabbed her hair and yanked her head back just like Ser Eries had done a few minutes ago.

"You're a pretty girl. It surprises me, quiet frankly. That your father, the stupid cunt was able to sire such a beauty. Perhaps you come more after your mother."

She grinded her teeth and pouted at him while squirming in his grip.

"Let me go. At once. I swear to you I will bite and hit you until you let me go."

Daemon was amused by her reaction and pulled at her hair with more force. "I want to see that.", he whispered and then took hold of her chin with his other hand.

"So pretty…", he purred. "I'm curious to see what else you have to offer. I just hope your little cunt doesn't taste bitter. You're a hightower after all."

Now panic was visible in her eyes and she shook her head quickly and with so much force that he almost would've dropped his hand on her chin.

"You will not touch me, you will now defile me like this. I'd rather have you kill me. I'd rather kill myself."

"Shh, little one. Be careful what you wish for."

His finger brushed over her jaw and he felt her tremble underneath his touch. If Daemon only could really tell if it was from her fear or anger. He didn't even know what he preferred because the thought of bedding a stubborn and defiant girl and the challenge of breaking her aroused him but at the same time he was eager to see the fear in her eyes while he fucked her.

His hand wandered downwards until he felt the soft skin of her neck. It was so milky, looked and felt so pure that a thought crossed his mind…

"Are you a maiden?", Daemon asked and his eyes searched for hers. Her eyes fluttered which he interpreted as a sign of weakness but her words sounded as sharp as knives.

"That's none of your fucking business.", she hissed.

"Oh I don't think so, sweetling. You'd be smart to tell me. Only if I know I can prepare you properly. You wouldn't want your tight little maiden cunt to be fucked roughly without giving you time to adjust. Especially not if you're dry as a desert."

Daemon was almost ahundred percent sure that she was a maiden and the thought made his cock swell to twice its size. The way she looked at him with this uncertainty in her eyes. And despite trying to seem indifferent and distanced, he had noticed how attentive she had listened to him during his last words. Also, Daemon simply couldn't believe that a girl like her, who looked so sweet and innocent could already have been defiled by another man.

He made sure that she had her eyes on him while his hand traveled further south. He saw the way her pupils widened and the sound of the rattling of the chains filled the tent.

"Stop it.", she spitted. "Stop it at once."

He rolled his eyes and brushed over her collarbone through her dress.

"Quiet. Or I'll put a gag on your mouth."

And yet Daemon actually took his hand off her body. Not because he didn't want to see and touch her breasts, he would do that very thing later, but because he had something else in mind. His cock was almost bursting in his breeches and he simply needed some relief. And when he looked at Arlis' pink and soft lips the only thought in his head was what it would feel like to bury his cock so deep inside of her throat until the only sound that could leave her mouth was her gagging and choking. That would shut her up as well, Daemon thought while he finally let go of her hair.

She let out a relieved sigh and perhaps seemed to think that the rogue prince had changed his mind. She couldn't have been more off.

Daemon watched the suspicion in Arlis' expression when he reached down to where her wrists were chained to the chair. She didn't seem to be that dumb to think that he would just let her go now after all.

Yet he freed her from the chair and wasn't surprised when the girl pushed him away at once while simultaneously trying to get off the chair. It filled him with so much smug to see how she failed because Daemon simply held her back with a hand gripping her shoulder and pressed her to the chair.

"Fuck you, you arsehole.", Arlis pressed and pulled and pinched at his arms. "Just let me go, already."

"I'm afraid that's not gonna happen.", Daemon sighed sarcastically.

Then without giving a warning he gripped her upper arm and shoved her to the floor. At first the girl winded herself and refused to have her knees touch the floor but he was too strong and simply pushed her down until she didn't have a choice but to stare up to him.

Additionally, Daemon had positioned the girl so that there was the big wooden table right behind her. The edge of the table was on the same level as her head which meant that if she tried to escape from him the table would block her way. He could just press her head against the wood and she wouldn't have a choice but to take it all, whatever it was he would give her.

Daemon had a hand in her hair to hold her head to his liking and he made sure to dig his fingers into her scalp. In response Arlis flinched which made him take yet another step towards her so she was now fully trapped between the table and his body.

"I know you'll do such a good job, pretty girl. You're so eager with everything you're doing, mhm? I just know you'll suck my cock so perfectly. Well, if you won't it doesn't matter either. Then I'll just fuck your mouth and use you like a toy and that's fine with me as well."

Daemon could now see something new in her eyes, a mixture of fear and panic. But still, she wasn't on the point of breaking because she tightened her lips and her eyes spit fire so much so that one could assume the blood of the dragon ran through her veins as well.

"Open your mouth.", he said and tried to sound as cool and dominant as possible.

He liked the way she fought him off and how desperately she resisted him but Daemon simultaneously enjoyed to make her feel scared so he felt a fluttering in his stomach as she looked up to him with big eyes.

"N-No.", she stuttered and seemingly was startled with his request. He hadn't even freed his cock; why did he want her to open her mouth? Daemon smirked crookedly and put a hand under her chin.

"Do it."

But Arlis denied and pressed her lips tightly together. Gods, she really was a defiant little thing. But he was confident that he would have her broken and messy by the end of the night. He started by delivering a light smack on her left cheek that only made her eyes glisten with more anger. Yet she let out a gasp which told Daemon that the things he did had an impact on her.

"I said open your fucking mouth.", he repeated and forcefully gripped her chin.

When she still didn't obey him he groaned and furiously pushed two fingers between her lips while pulling at her jaw and the girl seemed so surprised that Daemon was able to enter her mouth and he immediately shoved his two digits so deep that they hit the back of her throat. Arlis choked and gagged and despairingly fidgeted with her hands in order to find support. But all her hands reached were his hips which she pushed at in an attempt to free herself.

He watched her struggle with pleasure and his eyes glared with amusement. Therefore he kept up the assault for another few seconds and then pulled his fingers back a little so she could breathe. The little girl gasped and inhaled greedily while her pupils danced hectically in her eyes.

"See what happens if you're a bad girl?", Daemon whispered evily.

Arlis was still unable to speak so she just furrowed at him while trying to regain her breath.

"You'll take my cock now. And if I were you I'd be good now, understand me?"

As a reply she shook her head and Daemon sighed disapprovingly.

"Oh, dear. You want me to hurt you, don't you?"

Another motion of her head. Daemon flared his nostrils and then removed his fingers from her mouth which made Arlis pull as far away from him as possible. He intended to take off his pants and breeches now but knew she would try and run away if he let go of her. It turned out to be very cumbersome but eventually he was able to do the task one handedly all while his other hand still gripped her head tightly.

He now had to listen to her outbursts again and Arlis let out little curses and insults and only when he was done with freeing his rock hard manhood did he react to it. The girl in front of him stared at his member anxiously but even that couldn't soften the rogue prince's upset temper. He had enough of her bratty attitude and suddenly slapped her cheek again. It was a little more forceful this time but not so much that she started to cry.

"I will fuck and pound this cunt of yours until you remember your manners, little pet. I don't care how long it will be, I don't fucking care how sore you'll be. You'll take it."

She sniffed and tried her best to appear cold towards his words but he obviously saw the way she squeezed her eyes.

"Open your mouth and if you won't do it willingly I'll fucking make you and you don't want that to happen.", Daemon whispered dangerously.

It was a pity, really. Instead of obeying him she futhermore turned her head away from his center. Daemon exhaled loudly and prepared himself for another fight that he was certain he'd win.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair without caring whether he would hurt her and forced her to look at his manhood again. With his other hand he took hold of her chin to pull at it and at the same pushed his cock against her mouth. Arlis let out a whine but the mess of the whole situation actually allowed him to force her mouth open and he shoved his cock inside. The girl in front of him squirmed and threw her head to the side but there wasn't anything she could do. Daemon's hand controlled her head, she didn't know how to get his cock to leave her mouth and so she stared up to him helplessly.

The rogue prince moaned at the new feeling. Her mouth felt warm and wet, just like he wanted it. He had his eyes on the kneeling girl and it almost made him burst right in this second. Her wide eyes, her pretty lips wrapped around his manhood… And everything only became better once he started moving inside of her mouth.

He pulled himself out a little so that only his tip was inside but then thrusted right back in to hit the back of her throat. Arlis angrily cried out but simply had to endure it as Daemon used her mouth without paying attention to her resistance.

"That's right…", he purred. "What a good little mouth you have. I additionally would like to say that you're a good girl but unfortunately that would be a lie."

She coughed while he spoke those words and flashed her eyes at him.

"Do you have something to say? Perhaps apologize for your stubborness and tell me that you'll obey me from now on? You know that I own you now. You're my captive and it's my choice what I plan to do with you. I could make you my personal fuck toy and you wouldn't be able to do anything about it. That depends on what lies between your thighs though. If your slutty cunt is gonna satisfy me, perhaps I'll keep you. You're pretty to look at in any case."

This time Daemon was sure that those were tears welling in her eyes and it only fueled his desire for her. She seemingly tried to blink them away and lowered her gaze so she looked at his legs instead of him but he had glanced at a wetness gathering in her eyes which he laughed about now.

"Not so strong now, are we?"

Then he grabbed her jaw once more while simultaneously delivering a particulary sharp thrust inside her throat. She had no choice but to look at him and watch the smug smirk on his face.

"Let me see those pretty tears… Yeah that's right. Cry for me, come on. S'not gonna stop me."

He ravished her throat, bruised it and didn't care whether he hurt her or not. All he was capable of thinking about was the way her throat wrapped so tightly about his cock, the way her warmth sent shivers down his spine and how she gagged and complained around him.

"Oh fuck.", he moaned and narrowed his grip on her head.

She was still winding and shifting and so Daemon secured her position in front of him by coming yet another step foward so there was no way she could escape from between his hips and the table.

He went deep, so incredibly deep that his balls were pressed to her face. It felt so good that Daemon didn't even want to come and instead enjoy this perfect mouth for the rest of his life. But at the same time he was so close that he felt like exploding every second so he slowed down a little and even granted Arlis some room to breathe properly.

Greedily she inhaled and held her hand to her chest. Daemon would've thought that perhaps the girl was a little more frightened now and therefore more submissive but he couldn't have been more off. The assault seemed to have only enhanced her fury as she made yet another effort to fight him off. She pressed on his legs to make him step away, angrily mumbled something he couldn't understand and tried to escape from his grip in her hair. But soon he shoved his manhood back in and continued to pound her mouth while throwing his head back in ecstasy.

"Oh gods be good.", he panted. "Look at you… On your knees for me. So fucking pathetic."

It was only seconds later when Daemon felt the tension in his lower stomach tighten and then contradict.

"Oh fucking hells.", he growled and released right into her mouth.

His seed shot in her throat which made her choke but he wanted her to swallow it all so he kept his cock buried in her mouth until he was sure she had milked him completely and had been forced to swallow every drop of his seed. Only then did he pull away until his now flaccid member hang in front of her face. She hiccuped a few times, stubbornly refused to look at him and squirmed in his grip.

"I bet you liked that, didn't you?", Daemon smirked. "Getting that slutty mouth of yours fucked. Getting ruined by me."

Arlis raised her gaze at last and looked like she was trying to set him on fire with her glistening eyes.

"Fuck you. I hate you and you will get punished for this."

If she had attempted to threaten him, she had failed. Daemon merely chuckled and then yanked her to her feet by her hair until she stood in front of him. Her face, particulary her cheeks and nose were reddened and traces of tears covered her face. Her already wild hair looked even messier now and this picture of her made him incredibly hungry for her despite just having released.

Daemon pushed the girl towards the table until her backside hit the edge of it. Fear and uncertainty darkened her eyes but it only made him want her more. He slowly reached out to her waist and tightly gripped her through the fabric of her dress. Arlis was quick to try and shove his hands away and additionally kicked him with her feet.

"You will not touch me.", she hissed.

"Oh I will. And I will do so much more than that."

And then with a swift motion he grabbed the collar of her dress and tore it apart so it hang loosely over her body and exposed her undergarment. Perhaps it was in that moment that Arlis realized that the rogue prince would take what he wanted and that he planned to claim her maidenhead right here and right now because her facade crumbled, she started to shiver and tears gathered in the corner of her eyes.

"Please. Please, don't.", she whined while Daemon started to remove the layers of fabric covering her stiff body.

"Aww, what's that? You've decided to drop your bratty attitude?"

He was genuinely amused and observed her tense jaw.

"Please don't touch me. Please, my prince."

Her pleas filled him with satisfaction. He had suceeded after all and now had a begging and broken girl in front of him. Because as much as he had enjoyed taming that stubborn little thing, he couldn't wait to see her crying.

"You're mine now, little one. And that means that I get to decide what I want to do with you. And at this moment I want to see that pretty body of yours and then fuck your tight little cunt. But keep on begging, it's too adorable."

With these words Daemon removed the rest of the layers from her shaking body until she was bare under his gaze. She had still tried to fight him but at this point she seemed weakened and frightened so that her attempts were beyond ridiculous.

Once he ran his eyes over her body he felt his cock already harden again a little. She had small breasts with pink perky nipples that looked so delicious, he couldn't wait to bite and nibble at them, a small waist and frizzy brown hair between her legs that covered what hid underneath. It was almost too much for him. He didn't know what to do with all of this, didn't know where to start so he leaned forwards to force her into a kiss.

His lips sucked on her cold ones and her taste made his heart beat faster. Meanwhile his hands forcefully grabbed her breasts and squeezed them in his hands which made her whince. Suddenly Daemon felt a sharp pain in his lip and he pulled away from her at once. When he licked over them he tasted blood and stared at Arlis with narrow eyes.

"You little slut.", he grunted and wrapped a hand around her neck.

"Is this what you want?", he asked evily without letting her out of his sight for one second. "You could have a much better time, sweetling, if you simply laid still and took what I give you. But seems you want to take it the difficult way."

His hand stayed around her throat while his mouth kissed down to her collarbone. Her light skin looked so pure and delicate to him that he couldn't resist and bit and marked her. Now and then Arlis flinched and hissed out at the pain but over all she seemed a little more tame now after he had scared her by choking her. Once he had enough Daemon pulled away and proudly watched his work.

Her cleavage and neck was covered with light bruises and bite marks where he had sucked and nibbled at. She looked so… desirable. He wanted nothing more than to show his little fuck toy off to the world and letting everyone see how he had claimed her.

After observing her for another few moments Daemon leaned down again and this time took care of her breasts. Her nipples were already hardened though he was not certain if she was aroused or simply scared. While still taking hold of her neck he started to kiss and suck on her nipples while always concentrating on one for a few seconds and then switching to the other. After a while Arlis quietly murmured and squirmed in discomfort and taking a look at her nipples he noticed how red and sore they had gotten. He didn't stop though. She looked too cute shifting like this and the occasional moans were music to his ears so he continued to let his tongue circle around the buds and drew them into her mouth until he simply couldn't wait to get to her cunt anymore.

Therefore Daemon grabbed her hips and lifted the girl onto the table without leaving her a choice and then was quick to spread her legs and step between them before she was able to close them. He watched the tears stream down her face as she seemingly feared his imminent actions so much but the prince mockingly stroke her cheek.

"You look very pretty when you cry, you know that?" He then smiled. "You don't want that cunt to get fucked?"

Arlis swiftly shook her head and tried to convince him with the most pleading look of her eyes. "No. Please, my prince."

"What a shame then. But don't you worry, little one, I'll warm you up because I feel merciful today."

With these words Daemon suddenly dropped to the ground and knelt between her legs while widening them with the strong grip of his hands. He sighed with pleasure once he saw what laid between her thighs and his thumb soothingly caressed her soft skin.

"Well… Will you look at that? Perfect fucking cunt."

He kissed the inside of her thighs right next to her most intimate parts. "From now on you merely exist to serve me. You're my plaything, my toy to use whenever I feel the desire to."

His words were in such contrast to his soft kisses that it made Arlis' head spin.

"You won't speak unless I tell you so. You won't move unless I tell you so. And if I have to fuck your stubborness out of you I'll gladly do so until all you're capable of saying is yes and thank you."

And then without any kind of warning he closed the distance between his mouth and her cunt and pressed his lips on her bundle of nerves. Daemon could tell that this was entirely knew to her in the way she gasped for air and when he took a look up he saw that her eyes had sprang open like she was a woman haunted.

At this moment Arlis was dry as dust but the prince was quite convinced of his skills and started to let his tongue tease her pearl. Daemon's arms were wrapped around her thighs in order to keep her still and after a while he could feel her moving around and this time he wasn't sure if perhaps she was actually turned on or rather wanted to escape his grip. Because when he licked at her entrance he could taste something sweet and wet on his tongue and now nothing could stop him.

He lapped up her arousal and then spreaed it all over her folds and especially her pearl. He used the slickness to circle and flick the little nub, press into it and traced it. When he suddenly heard a quiet moan he stopped his motion. Something about it sounded a little different to the sounds that had left her mouth earlier and Daemon was curious now. And first and foremost he wanted to hear it again. He wanted to turn her into a begging mess, make her plead him and ask him to keep going. He wanted her to embarrass herself and humiliate her until she would cry. So he glanced at her with a cruel smirk and just very slightly brushed over her pearl which made her inhale sharply.

"So you do like this…", he whispered and Arlis' eyes sprang open at his words. "It's pathetic, really. Here you are refusing to give in and as soon as I rub at your little pearl you can't bring out a coherent sentence. Desperate little thing."

She sniffed a few times and then gulped loudly. "Please stop…"

Daemon laughed at this and threw his head back. "Oh I don't think you want me to stop. I think you want nothing more than to get this little cunt of yours pounded and filled with my seed."

Her 'No' was swallowed by the moan she let out once his tongue came back to teasing her bundle of nerves. He needed her to come, wanted to taste more of her sweet juices and wanted to see her fall apart. That was why Daemon fastened the motion and made sure to put more pressure on her pearl while his hand grabbed her breasts to play with her nipples. He heard her whine and cry and moan and whimper and each sound only hardened his cock along with her divine taste.

And then, when he felt her muscles tense underneath him he knew that she was gonna come so he stopped. Arlis who was panting heavily and unsteadily lifted her head to see what was happening and Daemon grinned smugly. He had just ruined her orgasm and she didn't seem fond about it.

"Do you want me to go on?", he asked innocently.

Arlis clearly fought with herself and quietly hummed while pushing her hips towards him. He could see the pleasure in her eyes and the way she bit her buttom lip and Daemon knew he had her right where he wanted her.

"Go on. I want to hear your pretty voice." He lightly ran his thumb over her pearl and watched with amusement how her face tensed.

"P-Please…", she mumbled but it still wasn't enough for Daemon.

"I can't hear you."

A desperate cry left her mouth and she threw her head to the side. His thumb pressed into her nub with more force and Arlis moved her hips in order to create some friction.

"Please. Please continue."

She sounded so pathetic and needy that Daemon couldn't help but reach up to her face and smugly run his thumb over her lips before finally going back to work. All that he had wanted was to hear her beg for him and now he was eager to watch her fall apart under his touch.

Daemon buried his face in her cunt, lapped up everything there was while flicking her pearl and then she let out a muffled high-pitched noise and collapsed on the table. His hands were tight around her hips so she couldn't flee from his mouth but she seemed too powerless to fight anyhow. He devoured her sweetness, rolled his eyes back at what most definitely was the best cunt he had ever had and then looked up to the girl.

She had her eyes closed and yet tears were streaming down her face. She almost looked pitiful lying there like this so Daemon soothingly stroke her thigh.

"Oh, sweet girl.", he cooed and then got up from the floor. He stood between her legs and gently grabbed her waist.

"You're gonna be a good girl now and take my cock, right? If not I'll make you take it. Which is gonna be more painful for you but I don't really care which path you're gonna choose."

Her eyes fluttered a few times at his words and she put her arms in front of her breasts in order to hide them which Daemon commented with a scoff. Roughly he took hold of her wrists and pinned them to the side of her body.

"You're not gonna be able to hide from me, little doll."

His eyes wandered from her head down to her feet once more and then he fisted his hard cock. Arlis seemed to really understand the gravity of the situation and moved back from him with glossy eyes.

"Please. Please, my prince, please don't do it."

Her reaction was exactly what he had wished for. Having her at his mercy, watching her beg him and seeing her at her lowest. Breaking her.

He ran his tip through her folds, stopped at her pearl for a brief moment and then spread her arousal all over her cunt. She whimpered and pressed her eyes together as if she was able to avoid the imminent action that way and then Daemon's cock was at her entrance. He circled it a few times, enjoyed the way she shivered in his arms and twitched every time she thought he would enter her now and then finally sank into her.

She shrieked out and her face was drawn with pain while the rogue prince let out a deep and long sigh. She was so incredibly tight that he feared she might tear off his cock and the warmth and wetness that welcomed him was almost too much.

"Oh fucking… Oh shit.", he moaned and tightly grabbed her shoulders not only to keep her up on the table but also to have some leverage while he stretched her wider for him. Tears relentlessly spilled from her eyes and she looked even more pale now. Her hands had grabbed the edge of the table beneath her and she would've fallen on her back if Daemon didn't hold her up.

"Oh yes… That's a tight fucking cunt… Gods, I knew you'd be good for one thing."

He stayed buried in her for a few moments in order to regain his breath and then pulled back only to start thrusting into her at a steady pace. Arlis gasped out at every sharp jolt but he could tell that it was caused by her pain. Daemon truthfully would have been kinder to her and given her more time to adjust but he was tired of her stubborn attitude and wanted to punish her for it. He had told her that it was her choice to either obey or continue to fight and she had chosen the latter. Now she had to live with the consequences.

At some point Daemon let go of her shoulders and pushed her so she was lying on her back. His hands dug in her waist and he forcefully held her down while filling her sore cunt to the brim. It wouldn't have been necessary of course. Arlis was weak, done with everything and took what he gave her without fighting. Her eyelids were closed and her body only moved when she was being shoved by a particulary deep thrust. And yet this image aroused Daemon so much that he wanted her to come again. And if the rogue prince wanted something he would get it.

So his finger reached out to her center where his cock pounded her cunt and he put it on her pearl to stimulate it in intense circles. She responded with a quiet whimper from her slightly parted lips and Daemon knew he was doing well. Soon he slowed down a little so he wouldn't burst before Arlis had come again but then finally he felt her walls clench around her and no matter if she liked it or not, he forced her to come again. He allowed himself to cross the edge as well and grunted as his seed filled her hole.

Daemon didn't pull away at once as he wanted to make sure that his semen would stay inside her. He pushed into her one more time and only then slipped out of her which she reacted to with a whimper.

Arlis wanted nothing more than to be left alone at last and preferably never see him again but he didn't grant her the favor. He put on some clothes on his body and then approached the motionless girl again. Daemon wrapped a hand around her throat so he was certain he had her attention and brushed with his mouth over her ear.

"I think I will keep you, darling. You have a nice little hole and a pretty body and I think it would be a waste to have you executed. You're mine now anyway… You're gonna be my little fuck toy to calm me after a long day. My plaything to always take with me. My little whore…. I do like that idea."

Daemon didn't expect an answer from her and just dropped her back to the table.

He didn't give her another glance and simply left the tent and only then did Arlis allow herself to cry again.

[eludin]

THE CROWN'S WHORE | CHAPTER ONE

WARNINGS: Addiction themes, sexual content, manipulation, dark themes, incest (this is Westeros people), grooming, and possibly more in the future.

The Realm's Delight wasn't Rhaenyra Targaryen once Vyera Waters started walking and talking. She was unaffected by the sexual moments held within the brothel she called home and would often approach the clients without hesitation. The whores around her try to coral her away, but she had her father's stubbornness. She slipped out of their grasp and pestered the clients for their stories since most were knights, children of lords, or lords in general.

She grinned widely and listened with apt attention, easily washing away the agitation they may have had with a bastard brat bothering their fun times. She made cute and sometimes strange noises at certain parts of the story, dramatically reacting at the more messy bits. They laughed at her very open reactions.

The Gold Cloaks quickly turned into regulars, bearing toys, books, and whatever a little princess could wish for. One smile from Vyera and they melted. They proudly told her stories, not only of themselves but also of her father. They listened just as attentively when she shared stories from her dreams; of talking cats whose grins sent a chill down one's spine and who vanished and reappeared before your eyes, hot deserts with horses made from sand threatening to bury you deep within the dunes, or riding the back of a bird the size of a dragon with feathers made of steal.

Ariston Algood smiled as the girl flipped through her new book. Many prayed for the poor girl to be the occasional late bloomer. That was the only thing keeping her from being thrown into the beasts' den.

Just one more day, one more month, one more year without that light that shone from within her being snuffed out by scum who desired to torment and corrupt that light.

Yet, no Gods answered their prayers.

She had bled a day prior and was now dressed in provocative clothing. No longer the baggy rags she used to wore, but a dress made of thin, almost see through, fabric. It looked peculiar on a girl of nine name days. Only the worst of scum would find pleasure in the sight.

"Riz?"

He smiled and patted her head. "Thinking, squirrel."

Vyera rolled her and scowled at the words sprawled on the page. "Dragon, not squirrel." Her words didn't fit her cuteness as she pouted and patted the thick pages. "And you're supposed to be teaching me how to pronounce these words."

Ariston laughed and joined her on the bed. Books with varying thickness surrounded her and most he never cared to read until Vyera. They never seemed all that interesting. It was just words on the page. What good were words when actions could be seen centuries after the person had passed? Yet, she hugged them close as if they were a fine treasure worth more than the gold mines at Casterly Rock. She brightened up at the usual pleasures, like jewels and beautiful dresses and gifts, but books got a loud and vibrant reaction.

She bounced off the walls of the Whore's Blood Brothel with each book, eagerly snatching from any offering hand and pestering the person to read it with her.

Some of the married lords who visited bonded more with her than their own children. "I wish my children had such a hunger for knowledge as you," said the Heir of Blanetree, running his fingers through her locks. She had preened under his touch and giggled, like a dog eager for treats and praises.

Lord Broom sighed, "A whore's daughter knows duty and grace better than my own daughter."

"Such a pity."

None did anything to change her situation; not that the girl complained. She clung to her mother and the brothel as any child would cling to their home and their mother. A year or two more and that opinion would certainly change.

Ariston leaned closer to Vyera and looked over the page. "Where are you finding difficulty understanding?"

"What does this mean?" she taps at the word abomination.

Fuck.

He peaked at the book's name. Just as he thought, it spoke of the Faith. "Uh... Something going against the order of the Gods. Like, um... the... the Children of the Forest with their magic." Sweat gathered at the base of his neck. "Don't you want to read something else?"

Vyera frowned and stared at him. For a Dragonseed, she resembled her father incredibly close yet there were a few traits none knew where they came from. They knew without uncertainty that Narelle of the Whore's Blood was the girl's mother. Yet she carried traits neither side of her lineage granted. Her eyes were golden and flecked with silver. Her canine teeth were ever so slightly pointier and sharper than most. Even as a child, her features were already showing a sharpness no girl her age naturally possessed. Unlike either parent, she possessed an innate glow that simply compelled every man who entered her presence to shower her with gifts, praises, and affection. Some were less pure than others, but she paid little mind to those types.

Her expression softened once she saw whatever there was in his eyes. "No need. Tis' truly fascinating to read how certain sorts of individuals view the world." She paused, and added, "And don't worry about the stuff on bastards. It doesn't hurt me. I know who I am, and I am not everything that is written in this."

"You are none of what is written."

She smiled and pressed against his side. "Riz?"

"Hm?"

Vyera curled up and hugged herself. Instead of the girl he'd grown to care for, a child frightened off the future revealed herself to him. "The brothel master will want me to lose my maidenhead. Doesn't matter I am a child, he's gonna want evidence." She peaked at him through her dense locks. "I don't want it to be any of the others. I care for them, and I know they would never intend to hurt me. I... Please... Please be the first once my moonblood ends. I... I don't want it to be anyone else."

Oh, fuck… She… As much as he gagged at the thought of any of the Lords lusting over Vyera, it made painful sense.

Ariston was not that far in age from her. Only seven namedays apart. It was still strange yet… 

He looked down at the girl who skipped up to him, even when he was running his hands along her mother’s sides. Now that had been mortifying. She smiled widely and rushed him with a hundred different questions. Their second meeting didn’t go any better either. Neither did their third. Yet, she cared for him, eagerly listened to his stories of his home, of his older siblings, of his parents, and now… looked to him for protection from any who wished to destroy whatever innocence she protected with a tiny dagger.

He had no doubt she’d ask any of her other friends the same favor. After all, he couldn’t spend the entire day with her. His pockets did not boast such a fortune. And yet…

“If that is your wish.”

He couldn’t free her from the brothel’s clutches; he couldn’t shower her with luxurious gifts; he couldn’t protect her as he wished. But he could do this.

Vyera Waters smiled. A waning moon in comparison to the usual exuberance.

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Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Fifty-Eight

One day before the funeral of Jaehaerys. The little body of the lost babe had also been sent to the Sept to be viewed by mourners before the following day, when both bodies would be cremated by the Kings dragon, Sunfyre, on a cliff at the Kingswood. It was a service Maera could not wait for to be over, in order to seek some closure and attempt to move forward in her life.

All members of the royal family were expected to attend the cremation. Helaena was getting frequent visits from Maester Orwyle and seemed able to attend, given she had adequate pain relief to cope with the after effects of losing her child. She was still refusing visitors and, while her screaming fits had ceased, she returned to spending most of her time staring out of the window, muttering to herself as tears streamed down her face.

Even Daeron, the youngest Targaryen brother, would be returning to Kings Landing on dragon-back for the funeral, yet only for a day as his dragon, Tessarion, was a formidable tool in the war effort. What Maera thought was strange was that the children, two year old Maelor and four year old Jaehaera, despite their recent trauma, would also be expected to attend. Maera was sure this was another political ploy from the Hand, but daren’t say anything to the other members of the family.

Hearing reports from her spies, Maera was relieved to know updates about her niece and nephew. Two-year-old Maelor seemed to be recovering swiftly, perhaps due to his young age which shielded him from comprehending the gravity of the situation. Despite being noted as more restless in the evenings, he returned to his usual playful self during the day, seemingly undeterred by the recent events.

In contrast, four-year-old Jaehaera was navigating her recovery differently. The trauma had left a deeper impact on her, rendering her mute and diminishing her appetite. Even her favorite toys and the attempts of her nursery maids couldn't coax a response from her. The profound effects of the ordeal lingered in the silence that enveloped her, creating a stark contrast to the lively and expressive child she once was.

Maera, deeply concerned for Jaehaera's well-being, observed a worrying parallel between the little girl's withdrawal and her mother, Helaena. Seeing Jaehaera cutting herself off from the world ignited a determination in Maera to prevent the child from succumbing to inner demons that echoed her mother's struggles. With a resolute mindset, Maera chose to spend the morning with Jaehaera, determined to coax her out of her shell and ensure that history didn't repeat itself.

On that cloudy autumn day, the beach took on a muted, tranquil ambiance. The sand stretched along the shoreline, softened by the overcast sky. Low tide revealed intricate patterns in the wet sand, remnants of the sea's gentle retreat. In the distance, beach caves stood, their dark openings hinting at hidden mysteries within. The waves, subdued by the season, whispered as they lapped against the shore, producing a soothing melody that echoed along the coastline. The cloudy sky cast a gentle, diffused light, painting the scene with a subdued palette of grays and blues, creating an atmosphere of calm contemplation on the deserted beach.

Maera walked beside little Jaehaera, with a cluster of guards not far behind them, the two figures moving in tandem along the cloudy autumn beach. Holding the small girl's hand, Maera felt a sense of silent companionship. Even though Jaehaera remained reticent, Maera found solace in the fact that the child had agreed to spend this time together. Both were dressed in black mourning dresses that billowed slightly in the breeze, and light cloaks shielded them from the chill of the windy beachfront. The somber attire mirrored the heavy emotions that lingered, yet the quiet unity between them became a source of mutual support amidst the echoes of grief.

Looking back at their footprints in the sand, Maera found the walk to be a healing balm for herself as well. The recent traumatic events, witnessing Jaehaerys' lifeless body and Helaena's heartbreaking loss of the baby, had left her in a state of disarray. Her appetite waned, and the burden of fatigue settled heavily in her muscles. Mood swings, oscillating between fleeting moments of happiness and deep depression, cast a shadow over her usual resilience.

Being near the sea, with the rhythmic sounds of the waves, brought a sense of comfort to Maera. The familiarity of the beach and the reminder of her home in the Rainwood became a source of solace amidst the storm of emotions. The walk along the shoreline provided a quiet respite, a moment for Maera to breathe and find some grounding in the midst of the turmoil that had disrupted the fabric of her usual self.

“Look at the seashells, Jaehaera,” Maera pointed to a collection of shells scattered along the sand. “Do you think we can find one with a little crab inside?”

Jaehaera stayed silent, her gaze fixed on the sand. Unperturbed, Maera continued, “And what about those seabirds? They are so high up in the sky, they look like they could be dragons, don’t they?”

The child remained silent, her eyes flitting between the sand and the distant waves as Maera tried to reach her once again. “Do you like the ocean, Jaehaera? I always find it soothing. It reminds me of my home in Rainwood, and when I was a little girl.”

Jaehaera kept her silence, but Maera didn’t let it dampen her spirits. Undeterred, Maera decided to share a piece of her own story, hoping it might resonate with the little girl.

"You know, Jaehaera," Maera began softly, "when I was just about your age, I lost my two older twin brothers." She paused, observing the child's reaction. Jaehaera's eyes flickered with curiosity as she looked up at Maera. Sensing a spark of engagement, Maera continued, "Laethan and Vaeron. They were a year older than me. We used to play by the beach near Rain House, just like you and I are doing now.”

Jaehaera looked up at Maera, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. Maera went on, “They got sick, sweet girl. A terrible illness called the pox took them away. It was just after my mother had died as well.” The weight of the memories lingered in Maera’s gaze, but she pressed on, sensing a connection forming between them.

Jaehaera’s attention remained fixed on Maera, the silence now a bridge between them rather than a barrier. “It was a difficult time, but I still remember them. When I walk by the sea, I think of them. The sound of the waves, the salty breeze, it is as if they are with me, watching over."

Jaehaera's gaze remained fixed on Maera, a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. Maera gently touched Jaehaera's shoulder and spoke gently, "I know you miss Jaehaerys, sweet one. And that is okay. You may find something that reminds you of him, something that will make you smile when you think of him."

Their steps continued along the beach, the rhythmic sound of waves providing a backdrop to the shared moment between Maera and the little girl, both carrying the weight of their losses in their own way.

The pair had ended up on the far side of the shore, near a collection of rocks and caves. Yet Maera found herself drawn to the largest one.The sea cave, carved by the relentless tides, possessed a natural grandeur. Its entrance arched like a gaping maw, revealing the hidden depths within. The jagged rocks surrounding the cave bore witness to the ceaseless dance between the sea and the shore. As Maera and Jaehaera neared, Maera noticed a small group of dragon-keepers gathered near the cave. Their attire and equipment hinted at their profession, with a large stick in hand, sturdy leathers and weathered cloaks designed for the challenges of handling dragons.

Among the group, Maera recognized Vovnik, one of the dragon-keepers she had encountered before, when Ēbrion was first discovered to be residing in the network of sea caves. Vovnik, with a seasoned understanding of dragon behavior, had also deduced that Ēbrion must have dwelled within the caves for an extended period. The dragon’s choice to remain hidden was attributed to its size, similar to Vhagar, which would have drawn attention if it ventured beyond the shadows of the caves.

The dragon had departed from its island home for reasons unknown, now choosing to linger on the shoreline of the Capital. The dragon-keepers closely monitored Ēbrion, a wild dragon with little trust for human interaction. His unpredictable nature had led to fatal encounters, as he had killed a few keepers and injured many more.

As the princesses approached the dragon-keeper elder, he executed a deep bow of respect, causing Maera to smile, still unused to such formality.

“Imastan se dyni nykeēdrosa ruartan ao, Vovnik?”Does the beast still evade you, Vovnik? she asked with a playful smile.

Vovnik, with a weathered face marked by the rigors of his trade, rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nyke emagon dōrī rhēdan nykeā ziksos zaldrīzes. Ziry jāhor kirine gūrogon se havor īlon maghan yn daor he nykeā gūrēntan isse bodmagho rȳ ry,” I have never encountered such a stubborn dragon. It will happily take the food we provide but does not show an interest in training at all, he grumbled, gesturing towards the sea cave where Ēbrion, the wild dragon, resided.

Maera couldn’t help but giggle. In truth, she had become quite taken with the beast. She was fascinated when she first spotted him arriving on the beach many moons ago, but since coming face to face with him, her curiosity had only grown. She felt a deep sense of empathy toward Ēbrion, recognizing the drastic shift from a solitary life to constant exposure to humans. The dragon, seemingly alone in its newfound environment, had forged a unique connection with Vhagar, a companion of similar size. And even then, Maera had observed their relationship blow hot and cold.

Despite the unpredictability and potential danger, Maera found herself charmed by the magnificent beast. Her Targaryen bloodline, coupled with the stories her mother often shared about dragons, had kindled a fascination within her. Maera had noticed Ēbrion's appearances during times of stress, such as her wedding day, and felt a sense of gratitude for the unexpected omen. It was an odd feeling. Although unfamiliar with this peculiar sense of reassurance, Maera found solace in the majestic creature’s presence, a silent companion in moments of upheaval.

“Nyke olvie qūvyr syt zirȳla. Lo nyke ēdan nykeā lyka glaeson gōvilirion se rhaenagon nykēla qrillāettan ondoso ābrar nyke, daor sagon biare iā.” I feel quite sorry for him. If I had a peaceful life underground and suddenly found myself surrounded by people I found irritating, I would not be happy either. Maera proposed, smiling down at Jaehaera, who was still tightly clutched at her hand.

Vovnik sighed, a grizzled expression on his face. “Skoros ziry jorrāelagon iksos nykeā kipagīros, nykeā letagon. Mirtys qilōni kostagon gūrēñis zirȳla. Lo nykeā issaros issarys, pōnta līs sagon nykeā sētan naejot sagon pālegon rūsīr.” What he needs is a rider, a bond. Someone who can tame him. If such a person exists, they must be a force to be reckoned with indeed.

As Maera hummed in response to Vovnik’s words, the ground beneath them began to quake. The tremors intensified, revealing the unmistakable pattern of giant footsteps. A deep, low roar reverberated through the walls of the sea cave’s entrance, echoing ominously. Jaehaera clutched onto Maera’s skirts, seeking refuge from the unexpected tumult. Maera’s heart, however, beat with a mix of anticipation and excitement as the source of the disturbance became apparent.

Out of the darkness within the sea cave, Ēbrion emerged with a breathtaking grandeur. His colossal head, adorned with large horns, rose into view, framed by the ominous darkness behind him. The orange glow of his eyes held a hypnotic intensity, a stark contrast to the deep blue and black scales that adorned his majestic form. His impressive teeth and the sheer enormity of his presence created a surreal tableau against the backdrop of the cave’s shadows.

The dragon-keepers hastened to the Princesses' sides as the colossal figure of Ēbrion loomed overhead. However, to their surprise, Maera calmly gestured for them to remain composed. In that moment, an unspoken assurance seemed to envelop her, dispelling any immediate sense of threat.

The dragon's massive pupils expanded, resembling the vast expanse of the night sky, suggesting a state of relaxation. A plume of smoke billowed from his nostrils as Ēbrion snorted, and then, in a surprisingly gentle gesture, he lowered his head right in front of Maera. Murmurs of uncertainty spread among the dragon-keepers as they observed this unusual interaction.

“Shhh, lykirī Ēbrion,” Maera cooed, her green eyes sparkling with wonder at the beast before here. Remarkably, the dragon began emanating soft bellows from his chest, akin to the purring of a cat.

Undeterred, Maera extended her hand to the dragon's snout, just above his mouth. The dragon's scales, as smooth as ivory and radiating heat, met her touch. Grinning, Maera petted the colossal beast, using the same hand that had once revealed her blood to him. As Maera looked down at Jaehaera, she discovered the little girl’s purple eyes wide with excitement and a small, budding smile gracing her lips. This sight filled Maera’s heart with a hopeful warmth for the child.

She tilted her head in curiosity before asking Jaehaera, “Would you like to touch him?” In response, the four-year-old nodded eagerly. Maera, with a careful yet tender touch, lifted Jaehaera into her arms, cradling her on her hip. Joining their hands together, Maera guided Jaehaera’s small hand to rest on the smooth surface of Ēbrion’s nose.

In response, the mighty dragon blinked slowly, an expression of profound contentment. The tranquility that emanated from him enveloped the Princesses in a serene moment. Maera couldn’t help but smile down at Jaehaera, whose rosy cheeks bore witness to the happiness that had blossomed within her.

As Maera enjoyed the moment of connection with her niece and the dragon, she noticed a hushed conversation in the background. Vovnik and the other dragon-keepers were engaged in a murmured exchange in High Valyrian. Straining to hear, Maera turned to ask Vovnik about it, but before she could, a soft voice reached her ears.

"He’s so warm," Jaehaera spoke, the words carrying a sweet melody that had been absent for a week. The sound of her niece’s voice brought tears to Maera's eyes, and she fought to keep her composure.

"Yes he is, Jaehaera," Maera said, a joyous smile breaking across her face. She refrained from mentioning the significance of Jaehaera's spoken words, not wanting to put too much pressure on the child.

Deciding to redirect their focus, Maera suggested, "Come. Shall we head back to the Keep and tell Maelor about our encounter with the difficult dragon?" The little girl nodded, prompting Maera to set her down and gently take her hand, cherishing the newfound connection between them as they began their journey back.

“It was lovely to hear her voice again, after so long. And that she felt safe enough with me to speak,” Maera expressed to Aemond, who sat opposite her in their chambers as they shared lunch together. The table hosted an array of dishes included savory pies, roasted meats, and various side dishes. However, Maera’s plate held only a simple barley soup, a testament to her persistent lack of appetite.

The time she had spent with their niece was shared with her husband, a bright smile across her face. Maera’s green eyes lit up as she recounted the details of the encounter with Ēbrion, the joyous revelation seeming to temporarily lift the weight that had hung over them since Jaehaerys’ death.

Aemond, finishing chewing his food before he spoke, raised an eyebrow. “I am surprised you took her to the beach, given how things have been of late.”

Maera took in the sight of him as she slowly placed a spoonful of soup into her mouth. His silver hair cascaded over his broad shoulders, framing his strong features with an air of rugged elegance. His remaining violet eye remained intensely focussed on her with a quiet attentiveness, his sharp jawline and chiseled features conveyed a sense of strength and determination.

Maera, her smile turning melancholic, replied with a sad glint in her eyes, “It is where I feel close to my family. I thought Jaehaera might find comfort there too.”

Aemond considered this for a moment before commenting, “Seems like she was quite taken with Ēbrion, from your story.”

Maera nodded, “Yes, I thought it might be a positive experience for her. Jaehaerys always said he would claim Ēbrion when he was alive. I suppose seeing the beast gave her a chance to be close with her twin once more.”

The One-Eyed Prince simply hummed in response, placing a forkful of food gracefully into his mouth. Despite the stoic exterior, there was a subtle warmth in his gaze as he engaged with Maera, creating a comforting atmosphere in the midst of their shared meal.

Swallowing a mouthful of food, Aemond suggested, "Perhaps Jaehaera could one day claim the dragon for herself."

Humming in response, Maera contemplated Aemond's idea while taking a sip of ginger tea. After a moment of reflection, she spoke with determination, "I want to strike while the iron is hot, make sure Jaehaera does not retreat back into her shell." In a sudden burst of inspiration, Maera's eyes lit up. "I could show her my sketchbook of Ēbrion," she said out loud, a plan forming in her mind.

Eager to put it into action, Maera rose from the table with swift determination. However, as she stood, a sudden dizziness overcame her. Desperately grasping at the table edge to steady herself, she accidentally knocked a glass onto the floor, the sound of shattering glass echoing in the chambers. Aemond quickly rose from his seat and rushed to her side, concern etched on his face.

Despite his protective gesture, Maera, in her stubbornness, gently batted him away, insistence in her voice. “I’m fine.”

A frustrated groan escaped Aemond’s lips. “You have been like this since Jaehaerys’ death,” he remarked, his worry evident.

Maera, ever defiant, argued, “It is just shock.”

Aemond countered, “Not like any shock I have seen before.”

With a playful grin, Maera teased, “What do you know about shock, husband?” Her attempt at humor, however, was met with a stern silence from Aemond. Unfazed, Maera reached for the water across the table, sipping it to ease the tension in the air.

As Maera set down the glass, Aemond's concern deepened. "You need to see the Maester," he insisted.

Maera shook her head defiantly, stating, "I will not."

Aemond, standing in front of her, took charge, grasping her chin roughly and tipping her head back to look at him. "This is not a request," he stated sternly, his authority cutting through the air.

Maera couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at his commanding presence. Tilted her head, she asked flirtatiously, "Is this my Prince's command?"

Aemond, not wanting to show any vulnerability, but also not immune to her charm, gave her a subtle smile and a nod. Maera, still playful, stated with a smirk, "Fine. But it will be a waste of time."

Maera decided to visit Maester Orwyle in his chambers, considering his hands were likely full with tending to the Queen's needs. She reasoned that summoning him for what she believed were mere symptoms of shock would be an unnecessary diversion of his time.

Entering the Maester's chambers, Maera found herself surrounded by an array of medical bottles and scrolls, neatly organized on shelves. The room was equipped with a sturdy table, presumably for examinations and treatments, while a small bed hinted at the occasional need for medical examinations and rest. The air carried the distinct scent of herbs and potions, creating an ambiance that spoke of the Maester's dedication to his craft.

Maester Orwyle, with his meticulous concern, had Maera seated in his chambers, questioning her about various aspects of her health. The inquiry covered her diet, appetite, and the amount of sleep she managed to get. His probing also extended to matters of intimacy with her husband, which elicited a smile from Maera as she assured him there were no issues on that front.

However, when the Maester broached the topic of Moon's Blood, Maera couldn't help but be momentarily perplexed. With the whirlwind of events since her marriage, she had inadvertently neglected to pay attention to her monthly cycle. Spottings here and there following the wedding were the extent of her awareness on the matter.

“Forgive me, Maester Orwyle. So much has happened… I cannot remember much about dates or how long I bled for,” Maera admitted with a tinge of sadness to her voice.

The Maester gave her a sympathetic smile. “That is understandable, Princess. I would still like to examine you, if I have your permission.”

“Is that necessary?” She asked defensively.

“Illness and symptoms can manifest in any part of the body,” Orwyle replied.

Reluctantly, Maera agreed to lie back on the bed, attempting to divert her thoughts away from the impending invasive examination. The Maester, with a professional demeanor, conducted the necessary examination, and seemed to hum with surprise and confirmation, before withdrawing his hand from her. Once the procedure was concluded, Maera sat up, smoothing down her black skirts with impatience and a hint of apprehension.

“Well? What is it, Maester? Is it serious? I thought it was just shock?” Maera enquired with a mix of eagerness and fear, hoping for some clarity on her current state of health.

The Maester wiped his hand on a nearby cloth before meeting her gaze directly. “It is quite simple, Princess Maera. You are with child.”

Notes: Ahhh I couldn’t keep this to myself any longer. I’ve been dropping subtle hints since they got married but it’s time to make it official! Fun fact; all the symptoms mentioned where all the symptoms I had in my first pregnancy 🖤

Tags: @blue-serendipity @0eessirk8 @shesjustanothergeek @marvelescvpe @manipulatixe @watercolorskyy @abecerra611 (welcome to the club)

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤