#corlys: >:( what about the stepstones viserys!!!>?!?!?!
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scribendis · 1 year ago
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𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐒𝐞𝐚
Daemon Targaryen x female reader (third person perspective) ❖ husband & wife
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Warnings: smut, profanity, these two are SO horny, dirty talk, p in v sex, size kink ish, breeding kink ish, just a little bit of throat grabbing Rating: 18+ MDNI Word count: ~5,100
Summary: Mere months after their wedding, Daemon left his young bride to join the War in the Stepstones. His victory and subsequent return to King's Landing three years later meant that his wife would never spend another night alone in their bed.
A/N: I hope all my Daemon girls out there enjoy! This one's dedicated to you! Also, this is barely proofread and not beta'd. Lordy help me. Dividers by @saradika | AO3 link | Wattpad link
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Mini HV glossary for ~future reference: ābrazȳrītsos - little wife ñuha dōna - my sweet issa - yes
Prince Daemon Targaryen had not been her father’s first choice of husband for her. It had, in fact, been the lord’s intention to marry her - his youngest child and only daughter - to King Viserys following the death of his queen. The prospect of such an arrangement brought her immense pride, for her house would benefit greatly from the wealth and status that would follow. But, by the time their wheelhouse finally passed through the gates of King’s Landing, the marriage between the king and Lady Alicent Hightower had already been set in stone. 
The king had thus suggested that she wed his younger brother instead, a prospect that her lord father balked at at first. Prince Daemon’s reputation certainly preceded him. No man called the “Rogue” anything had any right to take his precious daughter to wife. But when the Rogue Prince placed a wreath of flowers on her head and proclaimed her the Queen of Love and Beauty upon winning the tourney held in celebration of the king’s wedding, her betrothal to him was all but assured. 
She allowed herself to be wooed by him and his devilish smile, feeling herself falling harder and harder for him each time she caught his gaze from across rooms and banquet tables. There could be one hundred people between them and their eyes would always seem to find one another. His, more often than not, studied far more than her pretty face, trailing downward to her ample breasts or the curve of her waist. 
She had been told that Daemon was no great lover of dancing, but he offered his hand to her during every occasion that had musicians in attendance. And that hand found itself, more often than not, wandering dangerously past her hips as they moved about the dance floor. She was blissfully unaware of the fact that the prince would fuck his fist each night afterward at the thought of the places his hands had touched and what they might look like once he tore her clothes from her body. 
It was no wonder, then, that Daemon made certain that she fulfilled her wifely duties as soon as they were wed. He was barely able to make it through their wedding feast without whisking her away to finally claim her. But that night, he ensured that the entire Red Keep knew exactly whose wife she was.
In those first days of their marriage, she felt that she hardly left their marriage bed. When her presence was required at court, she walked with such an ache in her thighs and between her legs that she wished she could lounge about in bed all day. Each morning, without fail, their shared chambers still held the warm, musky scent of their coupling from the night before. It lingered on the sheets and on her skin throughout the day, only encouraging her husband’s desires further once he returned to her side. 
But their time together, it turned out, would be short lived. She and Daemon had hardly been married for three moons before Lord Corlys Velaryon’s invitation to join his house in the War for the Stepstones brought him hundreds of leagues away from her. Daemon could not refuse, for the potential glory of battle - his greatest chance to prove his worth to the realm - was a far more alluring prize than even his beautiful new wife. The kiss goodbye he gave her before climbing on the back of his dragon tasted bitter on her tongue.
She did not see her lord husband for three years. Life at court became a lonely thing. She was without children to care for or a husband to tend to. What she had was a husband whose actions in the Stepstones seemed to ripple all the way back to the Red Keep. To her. Slowly but surely, she watched her image deteriorate from that of a prince’s wife to that of a social pariah. How ashamed she must have been of her husband, the other ladies would whisper when they thought she was not listening - and, sometimes, when they knew that she was. 
Their shunning of her only worsened as news continued to trickle in about the rising victory of the Triarchy. She would sometimes linger outside of the Small Council chambers and trail after Ser Tyland Lannister in search of any information he had regarding her husband. Toward the end of the war, none of his news was good. She had come to accept that she would awake any day now a widow at the tender age of one and twenty. 
Until the morning that her maidservant burst through her door and all but shook her awake, uttering what, to her, was a garbled mess of words in her half-asleep state. But she did process enough to know one thing: Daemon had been spotted returning to King’s Landing. 
She rarely wore the colors of her husband’s house, opting instead for her own house colors. But today, as she followed the crowd into the throne room, she wore a striking dress of blood red the same hue as her husband’s dragon, Caraxes, and a necklace of rubies to match. Today, she was once again a Targaryen bride. 
She caught the eyes of some of the women who had spent the last three years lambasting her for her husband’s deeds. For his failures. She barely regarded them as she pushed past, her head held high and a smirk painting her lips. But, briefly catching the shocked look on Lord Beesbury’s wife, which somehow made the old woman look even more like a pigeon than she already did, she felt validation run warm through her veins. This would stop their wagging tongues.
In her place near the front of the throne room, she and everyone else watched Daemon approach the king. She had hoped but not suspected that he would find her among the crowd, so when his eyes flickered to her for a fleeting moment, she felt warmth radiate down her entire spine. 
Though he had looked away to address his brother, she did not take her eyes off of him for even a second. His silvery-blonde hair, now cut short, gave her an admirable view of his face and neck. Though obviously kissed by the sun, his skin also bore other changes. Forehead creases and other new wrinkles, likely from frowning or stress or both. A mottled, pink scar painted the right side of his neck and disappeared below his armor. She dreaded to think about just how far it went and how many others lay beneath his clothes. 
Truthfully, their time together before his departure had been so brief that she could not quite put her finger on all of the ways in which the war had changed him physically. From where he stood, the light pouring in from one of the high windows behind him highlighted a small scar just beside his right eyebrow. Did he have that before? She could not remember just now.
There would be plenty of time for her to relearn her husband’s body anew, just as he would hers. She did not realize how lonely a place the marriage bed could be with her husband so far away for so long. All she could hope was that he would still find her pleasing after their years apart.
Their reunion, it seemed, would have to wait, for the king was eager to whisk Daemon away from the eyes of the court following his return. Her disappointment meant little when measured against the wishes of the king, even though the ache in her heart felt all too real as she watched the brothers ascend the steps out of the throne room. 
She fielded several congratulatory remarks and other words of praise for her husband from those around her - the very same individuals who had spent years speaking naught but ill about him, whether to her face or behind her back. But she had known all along that Daemon would prove them wrong. 
The dispersing crowd soon filtered out of the throne room, with some individuals most assuredly sharing whispered words of gossip with their neighbors and others simply wondering when the celebratory feast would be held. She was one of the last to exit the room, a dizzying mixture of anticipation, relief, and disappointment churning in her stomach. 
So when a hand caught her by the throat and another by her upper arm as she ascended the stone steps into the hallway, she was taken completely by surprise. She hardly had time to let out a frightened gasp before a familiar voice breathed into her ear.  
“Will you not welcome the prince home from war, my lady?”
Her fear washed off of her just as quickly as it had come. Heaving a sigh, she smiled. “Daemon.” 
He turned her on the spot so they were face to face, his hand moving to hold her by the nape of her neck so she could not pull away. But she would not have done so even if he had not held her in such a way. 
“Gods, you scared me,” she continued. If he could only feel the way her heart was racing in her breast at his little stunt.
His bottom lip stuck out in a feigned pout. “And here I thought my dear wife would be excited to see me.” He placed his forefinger beneath her chin to tilt her face upward, his violet eyes studying the planes of her face as though he was seeing her for the first time all over again.
“She is.” 
A satisfied grin tugged at Daemon’s lips at the warmth of her remark, though he did not release her from his embrace. Rather, he pulled her closer and leaned down to claim her lips for the first time since his departure. To kiss him felt so familiar, yet also like a distant dream of a time long past. He allowed his lips to linger, savoring the moment as though they did not have dozens of onlookers watching them. 
“Should you not be with the king?” she murmured against his lips but felt him smirk.
“I have had to look at my brother’s ugly face since before I can remember,” Daemon replied, running his hand down the length of her spine until it came to rest in the small of her back. “I would rather have a moment alone with my pretty wife.”
That he had forgotten her or, at least, his burgeoning feelings for her during his years in the Stepstones had been a great worry of hers. He had been all too enthusiastic to leave her side and partake in the war to begin with. She often thought that, should he return one day, the two of them would be no more than strangers to one another. That whatever spark that had ignited between them in the early days of their marriage would have long since burned out.
But she recognized the look in his eyes as they roamed her face and continued downward, along the exposed line of her collarbone and shoulders before going even further. They ravaged her form as they had on all those evenings both before and after they were wed. He was entranced by the way her crimson gown enhanced her womanly shape. No doubt, he was toying with the thought of tearing it from her body right here and now, and reclaiming what was his for the entire court to see.
The mere prospect of such an act sent heat rushing through her lower stomach that pooled between her legs. She hadn’t worn her smallclothes beneath her gown today, remembering how tedious her husband had always found the extra barrier to be. He would have discovered that, if only he would have taken her by the hand and led her to their quarters. 
“You heard what I told my brother,” Daemon continued, his breath feather soft and warm on her cheek. “About the title they bestowed upon me in the Stepstones.”
“King of the Narrow Sea,” she whispered, feeling her mouth go dry as she watched the violet of his eyes become consumed by black. “But… you gave your crown to His Grace.”
Daemon clicked his tongue as he would in disappointment at a child. “Would my wife not have me be her king?”
Gods, she began to ache with need at such a question. She knew he noticed every flutter of her eyelashes, every rise and fall of her breast, every lick of her lips. He was an animal playing with its food, enjoying the act of teasing her. Testing her to see if she had missed him. 
“She would.” Her reply came out hoarsely, which only made the wicked smile on his lips widen further.
“And that would make you my queen,” he cooed as their noses brushed against one another. “Queen of the Narrow Sea.” His thumb moved slowly along the line of her jaw until it found the soft spot just beneath it where her pulse was hammering against her throat and pressed lightly.
She swallowed hard. “Queen of… of rocks and crabs and sand,” she said in jest, a paltry attempt at distracting herself from the now unbearable ache between her thighs. 
Daemon chuckled shortly. “But my queen nonetheless.” His lips moved to her ear to deal their final blow. “Do not think that I have forgotten the sweet sounds of your moans, ābrazȳrītsos,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble like that of a dragon’s echoing throughout the Dragonpit. “Or the even sweeter taste of your cunt.”
She could not stay the soft whimper that fell from her lips. Her body practically trembled with unfulfilled need - three years of it. What a devil her husband was for inflicting such torment on her, and in clear view of every nobleman and servant who walked past. 
And he was even worse for withdrawing from her completely and regarding her with a saccharine grin, though the dark lustfulness in his eyes belied his sudden pleasantry.
“My brother unfortunately demands my company just now, ñuha dōna, but rest assured…” He looked her up and down hungrily once more before stepping around her in a single languid step. “I shall be treating you like a queen tonight.”
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Her eyes scanned the page of the open book that was draped across her lap, but the words may as well have been written in Lhazareen. She had gone over this page a dozen times but retained nothing, plagued by thoughts of her husband as she was. 
The sun had long since set and here she sat, alone, by the fire waiting for him. Of course, the king was not to be denied his brother’s presence and she knew that Daemon was certainly basking in the attention and praise that was being showered on him. But she would still hold him to his promise.
Having given up on her paltry attempt at reading, she rose. Her bare feet carried her restlessly back and forth across the cool flagstone floor of the bedchambers that her husband had not slept in for three long years. With every turn, her eyes flitted to the door as though she could will it open with her mind alone.  
“Seven hells, Daemon,” she sighed. 
She had not sated her own desire after her husband had left her wanting earlier, so the anticipation of their reunion this evening had only continued festering inside her throughout the day. It gnawed at her now, an itch that only he could scratch. 
What could she do to prepare for him, she wondered? There was no use in changing into a nightgown that would only end up on the floor. She had no wish to drink herself into a haze that would rob her of the pleasures of their lovemaking. In the end, she decided to perch herself before her vanity and remove the jewels adorning her neck, ears, and fingers. They would only get in the way.
It was when she dipped her head to unclasp her necklace that she heard the heavy wooden door push open. Her eyes immediately snapped to the mirror in front of her, only to see her husband already leaning against the far wall, admiring her. The mere sight of his lips curled into a half smirk was enough to send a rush of heat through her lower belly.
“Do you require assistance with that, ābrazȳrītsos?”
Daemon did not wait for an answer before he pushed himself away from the wall and sauntered over to her. Sneakily placing something on the cushion beside her, he took his place behind her and lifted his hands to remove her necklace. 
“Red was always so becoming on you,” he whispered against the shell of her ear, admiring the color of the rubies against her skin before carelessly tossing the necklace onto the vanity. “You were destined to be a Targaryen bride.”
Her eyes fell closed as she felt his lips move downward to press to her neck. “Yes, I think I was.”
“Keep your eyes closed.” His words were a soft hum against her skin. “I have something to give you.”
Her heart skipped a beat. With her eyes closed, she could hear the rustle of his tunic as he turned. Smell the sweet aroma of wine on his breath. Feel the warmth of his arms enveloping her. Then, there was the cool touch of metal on her forehead and the sudden weight of something in her hair. His fingers gathered the long strands of hair that she had already unbraided and brushed, pulling them to one side of her neck. Once again, his lips found her ear.
“Open.”
She found her image in the mirror again and beheld his gift to her. A circlet cast in what she assumed was Valyrian steel with glittering rubies mounted along the front of the band. It fit her head perfectly and complemented the color of her hair in a way that no other accessory ever had before. When she reached a hand up to touch it, Daemon caught her fingers and brought them to his lips.
“Oh, it’s beautiful…” she breathed. The smile that lit up her features elicited one of his own. “This is what kept you, isn’t it?”
A look of pride flashed in his eyes. “My queen deserved a crown.”
She turned around in her chair to face him, her smile gone and her brow furrowed. The gesture was a lovely one, but it would be an insult to Queen Alicent for her to ever wear this publicly. And she had already spent the last few years as an outcast at court; she would never take risk worsening the others’ view of her. “Daemon, I-I couldn’t possibly wear this. Not at court…”
“Then wear it for me,” he crooned, slowly smoothing his hands along the warm skin of her exposed shoulders. “And nothing else.”
She couldn’t bear it any longer or deny her burning need for him. He could ask anything of her and she would submit. He had her in the palm of his hand and he knew it. 
“How… how do you say ‘queen’ in High Valyrian?” Her voice was but a breath, trembling and full of lasciviousness.
Daemon smiled crookedly. “Dāria.” His thumb brushed across the spot on her neck where he could feel her hammering pulse, just as it had earlier. “Ñuha dāria.”
She knew enough of his mother tongue to know what that meant. 
My queen.
“And ‘king?’” Her throat felt painfully dry, now.
He leaned forward, his gaze reflecting a mixture of playfulness and possessiveness. “Dārys.”
She watched as what little was left of violet in his eyes was overtaken by the black of his pupils. His hand at the side of her neck squeezed slightly. His nostrils flared. And, all the while, he wore the same half-smirk on those lips of his that she wanted to kiss every last inch of her. 
“Say it,” he growled.
“Ñuha dārys.”
Their lips crashed together in a devouring kiss far more passionate than the one they had shared in the hall that afternoon. Daemon easily lifted her into his arms and bore her toward their bed, just as he had on the night that they were married. He did not break their kiss for even a second, not to breathe or to utter soft words of yearning and love. They had so much lost time to make up for and tonight would only be a start.
With barely any care for the intricately sewn gold buttons that trailed down the back of the dress, his hands began to rip the garment open. He tore at the red fabric with the ferocity of a beast while his tongue danced with hers. They were caught in a swirling storm of desire and longing, heat and passion - and they were perfectly content to let it sweep them away together. 
Buttons scattered across the flagstone floor to be lost forever underneath the heavy furnishings, and soon her dress joined them as it fell in a heap beside their bed. Daemon’s roguish smirk returned when his hands cupped her bare arse and pressed her against him. 
“It’s hardly befitting of my queen to strut about the palace without smallclothes like a common whore.” He bit down gently on her bottom lip and relished in the soft mewl that rose in her throat. “Any man could…” 
As his voice trailed off, she felt his fingertips ghost over her hip before moving to her center and sliding into her wet heat. His fingers curled inside her immediately, expertly finding her most pleasurable spot as though it had not been years since he had last fucked her. A stuttering, wanton moan left her, only encouraging him to continue.
“...take advantage.” 
Daemon coaxed her back onto their bed, never pulling his hand away from where, with rapacious speed, he was already bringing her to the brink of the most carnal pleasure. But as she pushed herself up onto her elbows in search of his lips, he pulled back.
“Uh uh,” he hummed. “Look at me, ābrazȳrītsos.” He no longer wished to kiss her, choosing instead to watch her with the same darkened eyes as he had earlier. He saw it all. The way her half-lidded eyes struggled to stay on his, the way her brow twitched and furrowed, the way her neck strained with effort. 
And she was ablaze beneath him, the dragon’s touch inside her reigniting a fire that she had not felt in so long. The warmth of it began to spread through her as his fingers swiftly brought her to her release, which spread through every limb until it consumed her like a wildfire in the countryside. 
There was a grin of satisfaction on Daemon’s face when she opened her eyes again. To him, no sight could have been better than that of her beneath him, breathless, with flushed skin as she lay in the haze of her release. And to her, the image of him licking her wetness from his fingers with such lecherous desire in his eyes could have finished her once more. 
He sat back on his haunches to remove his doublet and tunic, which joined her gown on the floor as though they may as well have been dirty rags. She barely had time to study his bare torso, scarred and more muscular than it had been when she had seen it last, before he was upon her again. When he leaned over her to kiss her, her own hands took over and began to fumble at the closure of his breeches. 
“My poor little wife,” he rasped, “left without a husband to fill her all this time.”
Her lips curled into a sly grin that she knew he could feel against his lips. “Perhaps I have taken a lover in your absence.”
“Name the man and I shall have his head.” Daemon spoke in jest, she knew, but she also surmised that a certain level of sincerity lay beneath his words. Any man that would dare touch the wife of the Rogue Prince would incur his wrath. “Nay, his cock, and he may live out the rest of his days as a eunuch. Perhaps I will have him sent away to become an Unsullied or a priest of Boash.” 
He watched her face intently as her trembling fingers finished their work at his breeches. She had already been brought to pleasure but the sight of his thick, hard cock emerging from his trousers as she pushed them down renewed that same need inside her like an ember that had been rekindled into a blaze. A memory bloomed in her mind of when she had first laid eyes on his manhood on the night of their wedding and how she had doubted that it could even fit inside her. She found herself considering the same thought now.
“O-on the contrary,” she managed, dotting her tongue out to wet her bottom lip. “I have had to pleasure myself.”
“Oh?” Daemon’s eyes narrowed and his lips parted as his hand lifted to her chin to hold her gaze so she had no choice but to see his lust. “I would have you show me sometime, ñuha dāria,” he purred with voracious need. “But for the rest of tonight? You will not cum anywhere but on my cock.” 
He took her firmly by the hips, his calloused fingertips digging into her skin as he pulled her with him so that she straddled him. And then, in a brief moment of tenderness that barely concealed his near-animalistic desire, he twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers. “Know this: your cunt shall never go unfilled again. And perhaps I will put a babe in you, now that I am home.”
“Please.” Her voice, though barely a whisper, was heavy with want.
“Issa, ñuha dāria.” 
Daemon pulled her hips down so that she sank onto his cock, too impatient to give his wife any time to adjust after three years apart. A soft whine left her at the sudden fullness, the way he stretched her as though he had claimed her maidenhead for a second time. He did not let even a second go to waste before he began to guide her movements atop him. She was at the mercy of his hands, which demanded her pleasure and the closeness of her body without remorse. 
What he need not demand was the sweet cries of ecstasy that passed her lips, which filled their bedchambers and, likely, spilled into the hall outside of their door. They felt almost sinful to listen to and, yet, were the most beautiful sounds that he had ever heard.  
“Gods… Daemon…” she moaned, her body arching into him. She had spent so many nights whispering his name into the darkness of their bedchambers as she brought herself to release at the thought of him. But to have him beneath her, inside her, around her once again was pure bliss.
At the sound of his name on her lips, Daemon pressed his face between her breasts and groaned hoarsely. “That’s it, ābrazȳrītsos,” he panted against her flushed skin, his fingers moving further to grasp her by the arse and pull her closer. 
It would not be the gods that would make her cum tonight; it would be him.
She could feel it, the pleasure beginning to tighten inside her. She was at his mercy, lost in the feeling of him bucking his hips up into her and the sensation of his lips at her breasts. It felt impossible that one should experience such rapturous delight as this. In every touch and every choked growl that left him, she could sense that he felt exactly the same. 
“Daemon, please–” Her words left her as a high-pitched squeak, signaling to him just how close she was to falling over the edge. Her body began to tense, her thighs trembling on either side of his hips. Her hands flew to his upper arms, grasping and almost pushing, as if to try and escape the wave of pleasure that was fast approaching. 
But he would not let her go until it consumed them both.  
With his hands still at her hips, Daemon pushed her backward until she was buried in the soft blanket that had been so perfectly laid atop their bed mere moments ago. His body sunk into hers, taking over from her previous ministrations atop him as her hands anchored themselves to his shoulders. He rutted into her like an animal, starved as he had been of her body for the last three years. 
She felt herself shudder when his lips planted kisses along her jawline and moved up until they found her mouth. He swallowed every desperate moan that left her, the taste of them growing sweeter and sweeter the closer she came to her peak. 
Her walls began to clench around him, her breath hitching with his every thrust. Any words she may have uttered only coiled at her throat, her thoughts meaningless as the building pleasure finally unfurled inside her. He held her steadfastly as she came around him, his touch her only lifeline as the heat and delirium ravished her completely. 
“Cum with me,” she gasped against his lips. He would have kept going, brought her to another peak before finishing, but her soft plea was enough to end him, too.
“Fuck…” he groaned, thrusting into her one final time as he spilled himself inside her. 
And when their shared pleasure had passed, her vice-like grip on his shoulders released. The light touches of her fingertips traveled across his back, feeling each new scar that he had acquired in the Stepstones. But he relished in her gentle touch after so many years of war, and allowed himself to collapse against her. 
The weight of his body was soothing, his warmth a balm for her lonely heart. Their breaths slowed and, soon, the only sounds in the room came from the fireplace opposite their bed. It crackled and burned, its radiant heat intermingling with the lingering warmth of their coupling. 
Daemon eventually lifted his head again and reached a hand up to straighten the circlet that had half fallen off of her head in their final throes of passion. He paused to admire the sight of her, still in a daze and wearing a sleepy smile on her lips. He kissed her once more and, when he withdrew, she saw that his eyes had regained some of their earlier hunger.
“Do not think that I am finished with you, ñuha dāria.” 
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lucky13cat · 4 months ago
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Honestly the one thing I wish HOTD hadn't done above all else (and I wish they hadn't done a lot) are the multiple times jumps in season 1.
I wish we had kept the younger actors and the story going after Rhaenyra's wedding until at least episode 8 or 9 of the first season. Rather then jumping 10 years and then 6 years the show could have built up what was to come and shown characters and stories that were missed. They could have done many, many things to fill in the time to build up the later plotlines. Have the writers show us how inevitable the Dance would be without skipping ahead.
Show us Rhaenyra's reaction to Criston becoming Alicent's sworn shield. Show us Aemond and Daeron's births (or at least Alicent's wedding to the king well before rhat). Show us how Daemon and Laena were wed and him killing her original betrothed.
Show us Rhaenyra facing the whispers of the court as she and Laenor remain childless. Show us Rhaenyra deciding to go to Dragonstone with her husband, her retinue, and Harwin Strong (who in the book is her sworn shield). Show us how Rhaenyra sees traces of Daemon all over Dragonstone as well as her learning to rule and manage a castle. Show us Rhaenyra and Laenor discussing how they will have kids and scenes with her and Harwin. Show us her first pregnancy as she thinks about Aemma's many pregnancies, especially the last one.
Show us Jace's birth and the court coming to celebrate on Dragonstone. Show us Daemon's reaction to such an event even as Laena announces she is pregnant. Show us the first seeds of the bastard rumors as Rhaenyra and Laenor claim Jace has inherited the Baratheon looks from his grandmother Rhaenys, a defense that is quickly destroyed later on with two more sons bearing the traits of Harwin Strong rather than Laenor Velaryon. Show us the king acknowledging his grandson in a way he never does his own sons.
Show us Aegon bonding with Sunfyre. The deep bond between them and Alicent's worry about dragons and her continued rejection of the "queer customs" of the Targaryens until Otto forces her to realize that these are weapons to help Aegon when he becomes king. Show us Helaena bonding with Dreamfyre and more of her dragon dreams. Show how Aemond remains dragonless as all his other siblings bond with dragons. Then turn and show how indifferent, potentially even hostile, Rhaenyra is towards her younger half siblings, particularly the boys who have a claim to the throne as the whole court whispers.
Show us Rhaenyra's return to court with her gaining a seat on the Small Council and how much Laenor hates it in Kings Landing. Show Viserys announcing that his grandsons will all take lessons with his sons and Alicent's reaction to that and then Daeron being sent away to Oldtown. Show how Aegon grows up under the pressure of being the unnamed heir and unloved son. Show us the wedding between Aegon and Helaena. Show the plotting of Otto behind the scenes rather than just telling us the Small Council has been plotting for years.
Just show the audience something.
The season can end on a time jump to show the older actors and can even continue as it did from Joffrey's birth. The parallels from Jace's own would be quite interesting as it would show how Rhaenyra has faced what her mother called their battlefield before. Then let the season end with Rhaenyra going back to Dragonstone as more than the girl she was the first time. Let season 2 start with the funeral at Driftmark and show the actual aftermath of that event. Then show us Daemon and Rhaenyra's wedding and the aftermath of that with Viserys enraged and telling both of them not to come to court until he sends for them. Corlys can be shown once more going to war in the Stepstones instead of facing his grief as Rhaenys waits on Driftmark where she decides to foster Baela but ignores Rhaenyra's children. Show the twins and Maelor as a parallel to Rhaenyra's young children and how the Greens are a family just as much as the Blacks. Give us Helaena and Aegon interacting and how Aemond tries to be everything an heir should be even when he's a second son. Viserys' failing health can be shown as well as Otto's own time presiding over the court and tasting the power of the king, the thing he has spent years desperate for. Then jump to the succession of Driftmark crisis and Rhaenyra's return to court. Show more of Jace and Luke's struggles with their heritage as their younger half brothers inherit the Valyrian traits that highlight their own different features.
Give us more scenes of Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena among the court and interacting with the Blacks. There could even be a few scenes of Daeron mixed throughout the season though they'd less important, but still season 2 could build a base for who every Green child is as they build up to war. Give equal time to both sides of the war to come.
Let season 2 be built on these added scenes and plots from season 1 to truly show how the Dance was inevitable. This will then in turn fuel season 3 where the Dance truly hits as characters and dragons begin to die in this conflict. The deaths will hit harder and actually haunt the narrative the way they should because they've been given depth and built up in the previous seasons.
The show could have done so much to add depth to each of the characters and each of the different plots, but it didn't. The time jumps of season 1, in my opinion, weakened the story and left us with fairly shallow characters. There were so many things that could have added to the show and sowed the seeds of the Dance, but we saw none of it.
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yanderes-galore · 8 months ago
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HOTD
Corlys vs Viserys
Platonic
Concept (HCs)
This is a good pic due to their past with one another.... So here's your two dads/friends. Up to you. I wasn't entirely sure where to start so the pacing is a bit rocky...? You're a Targaryen. Hope it came out okay :(
Yandere! Platonic! Corlys Velaryon vs Viserys I Targaryen
Pairing: Platonic - Rivalry -> Sharing
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Rhaenys is an enabler, Rivalry, Westeros politics, Dubious companionship.
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Having these two so fond of you is dangerous.
The Targaryens and Velaryons are two of the most powerful families in Westeros at the time Viserys and Corlys are around.
Corlys is one of the best seafarers, so the sea isn't safe for you.
In terms of Viserys, you're lucky he lost Balerion long ago, so he has no dragon to track you down.
You're close to both families due to political ties often making you meet them.
Maybe you're close to the Targaryen family in some way (Sibling or Child?).
This makes you close to Viserys, the amiable, kind, and diplomatic king.
You may meet Corlys through Rhaenys, the two families having to meet at times.
So, while you visit Rhaenys (Whom you are also close with), you share friendly chat with Corlys, her husband.
Corlys is different from Viserys, shrewd yet loyal and not minding violence.
This is how you become close to the two.
It would most likely be through blood and political ties.
Your close bond makes you experience the sea with Corlys and more diplomatic values with Viserys.
I imagine a rivalry would start due to the tension between the two.
Due to decisions made by the Targaryen family, Corlys has some spite.
Which only increases when you spend more time with the Targaryens than the Velaryons.
Viserys either doesn't pick up on it or ignores such tension.
He's too caught up in being around you, often asking for an opinion or watching over you.
The good news about you being a Targaryen is you have a dragon.
A dragon you often like to use to visit Rhaenys and Corlys, sometimes even against the word of Viserys.
Despite the tension between the two, they still care about you enough to not make too much of a fuss about it.
If anything your bond between them heals the tension a little bit since you travel between the two families so often for both diplomatic and personal matters.
Be you a child or sibling of Viserys, you often get along with the rest of your family.
Rhaenyra and you are often around and helping one another, much to Viserys's pleasure.
When you're with Corlys and Rhaenys you help them take care of Laena and Laenor.
Honestly, if anything you're sort of mending the two families in a way.
Until events make you unable to continue such visits.
With the death of Aemma, your mother/sister-in-law, and the issue of succession coming up once again... you spent less time with the Velaryons.
You were too focused on keeping the head of the Targaryen family in a good head space.
Viserys is naturally attached to you due to this while Corlys grows impatient with Rhaenys.
You probably even come up in conversation between Corlys and Daemon.
Daemon may even find the tension between his brother and Corlys amusing.
Do you even know how much you affect these two families?
Viserys probably doesn't let you participate in the three year long war Corlys and Daemon are battling in.
Your true place is in King's Landing to aid him, not flying a dragon in the Stepstones with his exiled brother and Corlys.
It's clear Viserys wants to keep you with him for comfort and to teach you to be peaceful.
He wants you fierce, yes, but you're better off beside him your birth place.
If you're a sibling, you're most likely his younger sibling.
If you're his kid, you're probably older than Rhaenyra but not in line for succession (Married off to another, perhaps?).
Viserys has such an attachment to you he ends up dictating what you do even when he doesn't mean it.
When he marries Alicent, he wants you to help with his other children.
All while Corlys is sending you letters or having Rhaenys visit you on Meleys to check on you.
In the same way that Corlys hates you being in King's Landing so often, Viserys hates you being in Driftmark for too long.
Corlys loves it when you visit to make chat
You're much younger than him due to the age difference of him and Viserys, yet he acts like a mentor of sorts.
He may not be the fondest of Viserys's decisions, but he enjoys you.
Viserys knows he shouldn't worry when Corlys has you... although that changes once he learns Corlys took you as backup for some sort of battle or quietly took you on a trip on the seas.
Their fights are usually verbal and diplomatic as Viserys is a very peaceful king.
When you're not around and they meet, you're brought up eventually...
Then bickering ensues as a maid informs you that the two have come to another disagreement.
The good thing is their rivalry is usually dealt through politics most of the time.
Both of them want to be the favorite and want the other to stop bringing it up.
Naturally you should stay with Viserys as your Targaryen.
Yet your power is useful in Driftmark due to your dragon.
Their views are conflicting which often brings them to fight again.
Corlys stays loyal to the king only because he's king after this.
In return he wants you to keep visiting Driftmark, even if Viserys hates the idea.
A rivalry between the two would only cause s larger rift between the two families.
Even the marriage between Rhaenyra and Laenor doesn't help.
The two would most likely share, reluctantly deep down inside.
Viserys knows he needs to play nice and solve this like a diplomat.
Corlys himself knows that, meaning their rivalry would go dormant once they agree to share you between the houses.
Luckily, this conflict will not lead to war...
But the king may lose his sea fleet and maybe even you if there's anymore disagreements.
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sleeplessdreamer123 · 2 years ago
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Fanfic Idea! (ABO Lucemond, where Rhaenyra dies from Alicent's knife)
Rhaenyra died protecting Lucerys from Alicent's knife after she tried to take his eye.
After that day, Alicent was supposed to be executed, however Otto pulled strings, and though Viserys was extremely reluctant, he was forced to imprison her in her chambers indefinitely, with no one allowed to visit her, instead.
She has gone crazy, screaming that she didn't mean to, that it wasn't her intention. No one cared what she had intended. The Heir is dead. The Queen killed her. That is the truth that rang all throughout Westeros.
Corlys and Rhaenys, angered that Viserys allowed the green queen to live, immediately sprung into action. They told Viserys that Rhaenyra's children are not safe while the murderer, her followers, and her children lived in the Red Keep. They asked that they would live with them, in Driftmark instead. Unsurprisingly, Viserys was adamant that they'd stay, that he had already lost his (only) daughter, and that he refuses to lose her children too.
Daemon then appeared and the three fought to convince Viserys to send Jacaerys and Joffrey to Dragonstone, where Daemon will personally raise and train them alongside Rhaenys. Rhaenys, who was trained since the beginning to be the heir to the king, unlike Viserys, can teach Jacaerys everything he needed to know about ruling. And Joffrey would be taught under Daemon, to raise and train him as a prince and a warrior.
Corlys would have Lucerys in Driftmark, to be raised and taught the ways of the heir of Driftmark. Though Viserys was at first adamant to keep them all there, even going so far as threatening to imprison them, he eventually agreed when he saw the three boys and their cousins gathered together, crying their hearts out.
And so, they left, and it was a horrible thing, to convince both Jacaerys and Joffrey to let go of Lucerys so soon after they lost their mother, and to hear Lucerys crying, begging them not to separate them, but it had to be done, and so they were separated, with Lucerys only having Baela as company. Together, they mourned their losses.
--------------
Time passed, and news spread. The two princes in Dragonstone grew, both presented as an alpha, but the one in Driftmark...
He presented as omega. What shocked the people was the fact that Corlys was insistent in keeping Lucerys as heir, despite it all. But they remembered how he fought for his wife's claim, and now, it was less than surprising that he continues to fight for his grandson's. Unfortunately, he had to fight once more in the Stepstones, calling Rhaenys and Rhaena back to Driftmark, with Lucerys already acting as heir despite his age.
It was to no one's surprise that Vaemond, coward that he is, decided to go against his brother's claim after ensuring that his brother is injured in the Stepstones. He plotted with Otto, who managed to keep his position despite everything, and the hearing was set.
Daemon, Jacaerys and Joffrey first arrived, and everyone was curious to see how much they changed. Jacaerys was calm and collected, a charming man, he had the stance of a proud general, one that is used to leading and fighting, a perfect mixture of one taught by the Queen Who Never Was, and the Rogue Prince of the City. Joffrey, unfortunately, was taught entirely by Daemon, and it showed. It was like the second coming of Daemon, a charming little boy, but there was a viciousness hidden in him.
Then came Rhaenys, Baela, Rhaena, and Lucerys. The crowd that gathered couldn't help but stare at Lucerys. Ignoring his coloring, he was the mixture of both Rhaenyra and Aemma, his face schooled like Rhaenys, calm, without a hint of anxiousness. Like he just came to visit instead of the truth, where he had to defend himself and his claim. He had long lost his need to hide behind the people he loved. Corlys ensured that he would be able to stand on his own, to have pride in himself.
He wore a dress his mother would have worn, a dress with the designs of old Valyria, but instead of black and red, like his brothers, he wore blue. What made it all scandalous was the fact the he, an omega, came into court collarless.
Jacaerys and Joffrey all but ran to him, and his facade cracked, revealing a sweet smile reserved only for them.
Jacaerys and Lucerys walked around the castle walls, Daemon had a hard time taking Joffrey away, since they needed to see his brother, the King, and Daemon did not trust Joffrey out of his sight.
Jacaerys and Lucerys strolled around like they had lived in the Red Keep all their lives, ignoring the stares, and eventually made it to the training grounds, where they saw their uncle Aemond defeating Cris Cole, apparently not caring for tourneys.
When he turned to see them, he ignored Jacaerys, and his eye lingered on Lucerys. Specifically on his shoulder and unprotected neck. Lucerys and Jacaerys glared, for him, their mother died. He owed them a debt, and sooner or later, it will be paid. They soon entered the courtroom, and glared at Otto, who dared to sit on the throne.
When Vaemond was finished with his bouts, Lucerys began his own, until Viserys came to defend his grandchildren. Viserys reinstated Lucerys as heir to Driftmark, ignoring Vaemond's words, angering him enough to call the three bastards, and Lucerys, an Omegan whore.
He kept his tongue, the rest of his head, however, separated from his body, and Dark Sister was fed with blood again.
------
With the dinner comes the problem. Alicent, for the first time in years, was allowed to leave her room, to the anger of every single person besides the greens.
The argument started when Viserys decided to betroth Lucerys and Aemond.
All hell broke lose, however, when Alicent called Lucerys "Rhaenyra", and he asked if she planned to kill him too.
-------
So, thoughts? Violent reactions?
If anyone wishes to create a full fanfic with this setting, please tell me!
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syndrossi · 30 days ago
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I just realized that Daemon in the Reverberate AU is way too incredible because:
1. He won the war within 1-2 years.
2. He has twin sons as prophesied, and they’re prodigies.
3. His thoughts and actions are extremely mature (due to being sent back in time).
4. He rides one of the most dangerous dragons.
5. He owns lands he conquered through his victory in the war.
What would others think of this version of Daemon? It seems like he had to go through war and have kids to become this amazing in such a short time, haha!
He's got a ton going for him for sure, for most of those bullet points you mentioned. I do think that he didn't even consider keeping the Stepstones for his own--he practically flung the Narrow Sea crown at Viserys in his haste to make it to Runestone to talk Rhea into claiming the pregnancy/twins as hers. That said, once he's had some time, I could see him working to convince Viserys to build up a stronghold there to prevent future Triarchy incursions (aka the second Stepstones war).
The sudden maturity will also have taken both Rhea and Viserys by surprise. With Viserys, he can at least pin it on Daemon becoming a father and pat himself on the back for continually forcing Daemon back to Runestone until a baby happened. Rhea meanwhile hasn't exchanged more than a few words with Daemon over the past several years, so she can't really pinpoint when he stopped being bitter/rebellious about their marriage. (OTOH, he literally dishonored their marriage with her own younger sister mere months before.)
But he does seem like a man who was suddenly catapulted into his prime. Stories of his heroism in the Stepstones have surely spread by now, so he's likely more popular than ever, even with his quick vanishing act. I don't expect Rhaenyra's crush will have gotten any better; hopefully Daemon can convince Viserys to give her a match that won't put her in a tough position. (How he does this without infuriating Corlys and Rhaenys by breaking up the proposed Laenor match is another problem to solve.)
Otto is definitely less than pleased, especially since Viserys has yet to make any moves to name Aegon heir. (We're still just a bit before the name day hunt that happens in show canon, which might be fun to cover, though it may be replaced or preceded by the tourney celebrating the twins' birth + Daemon's victory instead.)
I mean, there's a reason that Rhea is willing to believe that Volantis really did just decide to court Daemon's favor: he's young, he's apparently a brilliant tactician, and he has a battle-hardened dragon. It's clear who the power ascendant is in Westeros.
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thevelaryons · 28 days ago
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Okay so Baela can’t get Driftmark because she is of blood and fire, as she tells Corlys and he accepts this reasoning. “Driftmark must go to salt and sea.” Then how come Corlys was okay with Luke as his heir but Luke wasn’t salt and sea. Corlys also doesn’t want Joffrey as his heir but Joffrey is the same age now as Luke was when Corlys first spoke of him inheriting Driftmark (s1xe7). Corlys tried to kill himself in the following episodes when he went to fight in the Stepstones, so he was okay with leaving Driftmark without an heir of salt and sea. But now he’s not okay all of a sudden.
You do realize that Corlys, as he exists in the show, is just there to prop up other characters, right? Trying to find any deeper meaning behind his actions is a lost cause.
HOTD changed many aspects of the Driftmark succession. In the book, Corlys did not particularly want Luke as his heir. Rhaenyra had to force the issue and she proved that she was willing to have people killed/maimed if they opposed her. Corlys was likely willing to settle for Luke as heir because he was already betrothed to Rhaena. Later, when Luke dies and Joffrey becomes heir, Corlys is already making plans to have Joffrey replaced by his own blood. Joffrey is betrothed to a Manderly girl, and betrothals are not easily broken, so he can’t just be betrothed to Rhaena now. Which is why Corlys proceeds to appoint another heir, who is actually of his blood. F&B never officially referred to Luke as Corlys’ heir (compared to the other heirs to Driftmark), probably because the situation was not so easily accepted by Corlys. Like I’ve said before, Corlys considers being a Velaryon and being his heir as two separate things.
In the show, Corlys accepted Luke as heir from the beginning, even before the betrothal with Rhaena had been made (the show scene is inspired by a book scene between Jace & Viserys). Rhaenyra doesn’t need to use violence to force Corlys’ decision about his heir. The show portrayed Corlys as a person who doesn’t really have a problem with his heir not being of his blood in season one. The events of season one were portrayed in such a way to keep Rhaenyra’s hands clean. But now Corlys’ actions in season two don’t match up with his actions in season one because of the various changes that have been made.
The reason Baela and Rhaena were never considered for Corlys’ heirs in the book is that legally they can never inherit Driftmark while Rhaenyra’s Velaryon sons live. Laenor was the heir to Driftmark. So naturally, his sons will be heirs after him. Then it will be Laena. After her, it will be her daughters. Once Laenor and Laena die, the matter comes down to their children. There is no situation in which either Baela or Rhaena could be named heirs to Driftmark ahead of the boys, especially if one of the boys (Luke) is older (it’s not like the situation with Rhaenyra versus Aegon, where Rhaenyra is older). If the Dragon Twins were named heirs ahead of Rhaenyra’s sons, it would completely expose that the boys are illegitimate (why is Lord Velaryon randomly making his granddaughter heir ahead of his grandson?). Everyone would know and it would create a huge scandal. Laenor would be considered a cuckold publicly. It also makes house Velaryon lose any potential ties to the Iron Throne. King Viserys would either have to start executing Rhaenyra & her sons for high treason or he would start targeting Corlys and his family if they dared to expose Rhaenyra (just look at what happened to Vaemond and his family). Either way, the situation would get ugly. So of course, Corlys has to play along with the ruse. He doesn’t attempt to change the line of succession at that point and is willing to settle for Luke because it at least serves his family’s interests. During the war, Corlys has the upper hand over Rhaenyra, so he can attempt to change the succession accordingly.
There’s a reason why Corlys later passes Addam & Alyn as Laenor’s bastards instead of acknowledging that he is the one who fathered them. There isn’t anything stopping Corlys from saying he’s the father. At the time, Rhaenys is dead so Corlys has nothing to be afraid of. But Corlys’ intention is to change the succession to favour his own blood and the only way to do that is to pass Addam & Alyn off as Laenor’s sons instead.
House Velaryon follows Andal succession. Laenor’s sons (Jace/Luke/Joffrey) come before Laenor’s nieces (Baela/Rhaena). Laenor’s brothers (Addam/Alyn) come very last. By passing Addam & Alyn off as Laenor’s sons, and by virtue of them being older than Joffrey, they are ahead in the line of succession. And when the succession issue has been resolved as Corlys sees fit, there would be no further reason to change it to make either Baela or Rhaena the heir.
It’s easy enough for Corlys to make Addam his heir over Joffrey in the book because of the way the Red Sowing is structured. Corlys took part in planning that with Jace. It was said that whoever claimed a dragon would be honoured by being ennobled. So it’s not particularly a suspicious situation for Corlys to act at this point. Once Addam succeeded in claiming a dragon, Corlys can “reward” him by naming him heir to Driftmark. Rhaenyra needs Corlys on her side, since he’s providing the majority of her army, so she has to accept the situation with Addam (even if it means passing over her own son, Joffrey). Jace supports him in this decision because he was making active efforts to appease Corlys to keep him on their side.
The show complicated matters with all the changes it made in season one, and now season two. If HOTD had portrayed Corlys more similar to his book counterpart (aka reluctant to accept Luke as heir in the beginning), then there wouldn’t be as much confusion about Corlys now being reluctant to accept Joffrey as heir. So long as Laenor’s sons exist, Baela and Rhaena were never going to be considered as heirs to the Driftwood Throne.
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anyca786 · 9 days ago
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"VISERYS IS DEAD"
Daemon Targaryen x sister/aunt!Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen
WARNINGS: canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister &niece) poly relationship, mention of dead, miscarriage.
Series
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Two days have passed since they arrived back on Dragonstone, much to everyone's relief. The Keep had practically been suffocating enough and knew that if they stayed any longer, it wouldn't end well for both parties.
As the first rays of dawn, pale and rose-tinted, crept through the heavy drapes of their bedchamber, painting the room in soft light. Daenys stirred, her pale hair a tangled halo around her face on the plush pillow.
Daemon, already awake, lay beside her, propped on an elbow, his purple eyes fixed on her with a fond smile. He gently brushed a stray strand of her pale hair from her cheek, his touch feather-light.
"Good morrow, my love," he murmured, his voice a low rumble.
Daenys blinked sleepily, her lips curving into a soft smile as she met his gaze. "Morrow, husband." She stretched languidly, a small, contented sigh escaping her.
He watched her, a warm feeling spreading through him. He loved these quiet moments, before the demands of court and family intruded. He traced the delicate line of her jaw with his fingertip, his eyes lingering on her soft expression.
"You are so beautiful in the morning light," he whispered, his voice husky.
Daenys blushed slightly, her cheeks tinged with pink. "You say that every morning, Daemon" she teased, though a pleased smile played on her lips.
Daemon chuckled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "And I shall continue to do so, for it is always true." He paused, his gaze becoming more serious, though a playful glint remained in his eyes. "It makes me think… we should add another little dragon to our nest."
Daenys’s eyes widened slightly, and a deeper blush bloomed on her cheeks. She looked down, a shy smile gracing her lips. The idea of another child with Daemon filled her with a warm, happy feeling.
"Daemon…" she began softly, her voice barely a whisper.
He gently cupped her face in his hands, tilting her head up so he could meet her gaze. "I am serious, Daenys. I would have many children with you. Make it equal for both my wives" He chuckled softly.
Daenys bit her lip, her heart fluttering at his words. "Rhaenyra is due to give birth soon," she reminded him gently. "Perhaps… after the babe is born, we could… try."
A wide grin spread across Daemon’s face. He leaned down and kissed her deeply, his hand gently resting on her stomach. "That is all I needed to hear, my love," he murmured against her lips. "After the babe arrives, we shall try for another. Perhaps, one more princess like you” He winked, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Daenys laughed softly, her blush deepening, but her eyes sparkled with happiness. She rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear.
However, the warmth of their embrace was broken by a discreet knock at the bedchamber door. Daemon groaned playfully, pulling away from Daenys with a mock sigh.
The door opened slightly, revealing a guard in Targaryen livery. He bowed his head respectfully. "Your Graces," he announced, his voice low and formal. "Princess Rhaenyra requests your presence in the court room"
🥀
In the courtroom, Daenys had arrived to find Rhaenyra already there waiting. The Heir held a protective hand over her belly and looked up when the doors swung open to see Daenys going straight to her, "Should we be worried?"
"Princess Rhaenys was seen on dragonback," Daemon said, who was the first one to reach the courtroom.
"Princess Rhaenys hasn't arrived yet. She's most likely coming though," Rhaenyra stated, also anxious about what was happening.
"Maybe something went wrong in Kingslanding." Daenys suggested but shook her head at the thought, "Maybe we shouldn't worry and wait for what Princess Rhaenys has to say. This could be about the Stepstones. Has something happened to Lord Corlys?" Daenys blunts out.
Daemon was quiet and was in the middle of thinking of the worst possible scenarios.
Daenys placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort. Daemon gave a false smile as he placed his hand on top of hers.
The doors opened to reveal Princess Rhaenys, accompanied by a guard.
"Thank you, Ser Lorent." Rhaenyra thanked them and gave her wife a look for her to follow. Daenys held out her arm to help her walk but also for comfort.
Princess Rhaenys' presence became known when she walked in. Daenys gave her cousin a smile and nodded, "Cousin Rhaenys."
"Daenys, it's good to see that you are well," Rhaenys replied.
"Princess Rhaenys," Rhaenyra greeted. "Might we hope for Lord Corlys' recovery," she smiled.
"Viserys is dead," Rhaenys announced.
It was as if Daenys was thrown into cold water, and if she wasn't holding onto Rhaenyra, she would've fallen.
She looked at Daemon and grabbed his hand. Her eyes held worry seeing the expression on his face.
She could feel Rhaenyra choke up a bit at the news and hold her arm tighter.
Viserys, her elder brother. Her backbone. The one who always stood up for her and loved her like a father was no more.
"I grieve this loss with you, Rhaenyra," Rhaenys told her, she too was still processing her cousin's death. They may have had their ups and downs, but he was always kind to her. "My cousin, your father..possessed a kind heart."
Daenys eyes stung, recalling the moments of the Keep. The memories of her, Viserys and Daemon's childhood together. How Viserys used to protect her from everything. How he used to make her laugh. He always took her side when Daemon and her used to fight.
Daemon looked like a ghost. The regret was seeping inside him for not being there for him and how their relationship ended so horribly. And as for Rhaenyra had lost the only parent she had left.
"There is more," Rhaenys continued.
"How could this have happened?" Daenys spoke up, sounding both hurt and angry. Grief clouded her vision and found herself leaning into Daemon. He held her tightly, boiling in anger.
Suddenly, Rhaenyra felt a pain in her stomach, making her wince.
"Nyra!" Daenys yelled in concern, "What happened?"
"I'm okay," Rhaenyra uttered and stood up straight once more before looking at Rhaenys. "They crowned him..?"she asked quietly, feeling devastated as she looked at Rhaenys for confirmation.
"How did Viserys die?" Daemon asked sharply, speaking up for the first time since he heard the news.
"How long ago?" Daenys asked.
"A day passed, perhaps two. I was made a prisoner in my quarters while the Queen made her preparations." Rhaenys explained,"Viserys has been slain-,"
"Alicent demanded you declare for Aegon," Rhaenyra concluded, adding the pieces together.
"She did," Rhaenys responded with a nod.
"But you had refused," Daenys started earning a nod from Rhaenys. They wouldn't just let her go. Not without trapping her from leaving. The thought of anyone harming her cousin made Daenys angry a bit, "How are you still-"
"Alive? The High Septon crowned Aegon in the Dragonpit. I witnessed it myself just before I fled on Meleys,"
Rhaenyra felt another course of pain but ignored it.
"They crowned him before the masses," Rhaenyra said painfully as if she were stabbed in the heart. Almost in tears, maybe it was the fact that Alicent had been the one to agree to the plan despite coming together once more at the dinner.
Daenys felt betrayed as well. She had thought that they were getting somewhere by moving past everything and was willing to start over their friendship.
The Princess placed a hand over her scar on the collarbone,"So that the masses would see him as their rightful King,"Rhaenys said.
"That whore of a Queen murdered my brother and stole his throne, and you could have burned them all for it," Daemon yelled angrily. His brother was dead, and the crown was stolen that was meant for Rhaenyra, his wife.
"A war is like to be fought over this treachery to be sure," Rhaenys told him, justifying her actions. This was not her fight, at least not yet.
"Hmm," Daemon hummed but angry.
Daenys paced back and forth while her hand rested on her thigh where her dagger rested underneath. She was itching to lash out and bring blood but refrained due to Rhaenyra and Daemon's loss. Her thoughts train to 0tto Hightower, how she wanted to put his head on a spike... or Alicent's, no longer did she hold any sympathy for her or the Greens.
"But that war is not mine," Rhaenys told him with a glare, "I only rushed this morning to tell you out of loyalty to my husband and my House... The Greens are coming for you Rhaenyra, Daenys, and your children....You should leave Dragonstone at once."
Hearing those words out loud about how they would come for their children made Daenys furious. Imagining someone hurting their children made her blood.
Rhaenyra groaned once more in pain before looking at her wife panicky, "Daenys, there is something wrong," she moaned in distress.
Daenys looked at her alarm and helped her with her dress. Rhaenyra pulled up her hand to reveal blood.
"No..." Daenys muttered fearfully for her wife and the babe,"The babe is coming," she said, slightly panicked. They weren't supposed to come this early.
🥀
"Daemon...Daenys.." Rhaenyra shouts echoed all over the castle.
Even though Daenys wanted to be with Rhaenyra, she couldn't. Not while Daemon is fuming and wanting to plot against the Greens. She can not let that happen without Rhaenyra's presence in the court.
"Daemon-" she tried to stop him but he ignored her.
Suddenly, Rhaenyra's shouts became louder and louder, calling for her husband and wife. Daenys couldn't bear it anymore and ran towards her wife, crossing Jacaerys, who was walking towards the courtroom fuming.
When Daenys entered the birthing chamber, she met the most gruesome scene ever. Pool of blood everywhere. Rhaenyra holding their still born and deformed daughter. Their Visenya. Rhaenyra's only daughter. Daenys let out a small whimper at the sight, she could've sworn the babe resemblance to an actual dragon. The child had appeared with scales, and twisted limbs that looks like wings.
"They took my Visenya" Rhaenyra muttered, in misery as she carefully cradled the dead babe back and forth in her arms, "They took our daughter, away from us" she continued.
Daenys held her close, trying to console Rhaenyra while she let out a mournful wail. Rhaenyra hummed at the feeling of her wife's arms caging around her like a security blanket.
"We will get our revenge, my love. They will pay for it." Daenys's eyes darkened as she made the promise to her wife. Tears streamed down her face and grieved over the loss of their child, "I will make them all pay,"
"I want to be alone with her," Rhaenyra stated.
Daenys understood and stood up, placing a kiss on her forehead and cupping the dead babe's face, "Visenya, you'll never be forgotten," she whispered.
With that, she walks out of the chamber as Rhaenyra herself cleaned and dressed Visenya for the funeral. Bidding her only daughter, a final goodbye.
A newfound respect for Rhaenyra grew within Daenys, how strong her wife is, for she could never imagine what she would do if something like this ever happens.
When she reached the balcony, she saw Daemon standing still on the sea shore, devastated. He excises a lifetime of pain and grief and loss.
A wave of nausea washed over her, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob. It was a cruel twist of fate, a blow that struck her core. On this day, Daenys Targaryen made a promise to herself that she will seek vengeance for their daughter, her wife and husband.
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A/N: I know I haven't updated for a long time. My favourite uncle died a month ago. Got diagnosed with autoimmune disease myself. I'll try to finish the season one before New Year's.
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A Rant on Viserys Targaryen
His Hypocrisy
The poor dialogue and character inconsistencies in the later seasons of Game of Thrones is well talked-about, but House of the Dragon isn’t exempt.
Starting off with these two scenes here:
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Viserys in these scenes could almost be a good man. Almost.
For those who may have forgotten the context, in the first scene, he confronts Daemon about the rumors of him sleeping with Rhaenyra in a brothel. Now while there are underlying issues including personal conflict with his brother, the problem that Viserys has with Daemon and Rhaenyra’s alleged affair, in his words is: She is just a girl.
In the second scene, he’s speaking to his possible bride-to-be, Laena Velaryon. The conversation between them is seemingly casual at first, as they spoke about the dragons Vhagar and Balerion. It only shifts after Laena repeats what Corlys, her father, would’ve instructed her to say. Viserys asks her afterwards what her mother told her to say to him, which was, “I wouldn’t have to bed you until I turned fourteen”.
Around the timeline of the first scene, Rhaenyra was eighteen years old. In the second scene, Laena was twelve years old.
Now according to Viserys, both of these girls are just girls.
Yet his wife, Alicent Hightower was fifteen years old when he’d married her.
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I’ve seen a lot of defenses for Viserys since the airing of Season One of House of the Dragon, and most of them discards him of any blame or wrong for the grooming and abuse of Alicent Hightower.
His Incompetence
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This particular scene is where I started to root for Rhaenyra Targaryen.
The Small Council are having a meeting when Corlys storms into the room, upset about the loss of his ships and men, due to the attacks from the Triarchy.
Viserys and the rest of the lords that make up his small council disregard his concerns, with Otto Hightower even reminding him to watch his tongue.
Let’s take a look at this map here:
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The Stepstones are the little islands that fall between Westeros and Essos. Anyone doing trade from the free cities of the southern coasts of Essos to anywhere in Westeros or even the northern part Essos, will more than likely have to pass through or near the step stones.
The wealth of House Velaryon in House of the Dragon can be accredited to one man, the Sea Snake, Corlys Velaryon.
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Was he a bit(lol) disrespectful in that scene? Yes, he was. But his concerns weren’t petty or unimportant. He built his house’s wealth on trade. Everybody, including Viserys, would’ve faced consequences in a few years, if not months, had the Triarchy been allowed to continue their raids.
Now I mentioned that a lot of my support and empathy for Rhaenyra came from that scene, mostly because of how Viserys dismisses her after she gave a suitable solution to a problem that would’ve affected his kingdom.
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If he’d started incorporating her into these meetings, allowed her to interact and become familiar with the small council, she would’ve been a force to be reckoned with.
That scene is why despite him naming her his heir afterwards, I don’t truly believe Viserys was an act done out of honor or duty, but rather him trying to fix the tension between him and the wife he’d killed, Aemma.
The relationship between Viserys and Rhaenyra is one that is glorified by a vast majority of the fandom, but he still failed her, his wives, his children, his brother, etc. (I will address this in part two).
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presidenthades · 3 months ago
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Congrats on you visit to comic con and I hope you passed a great time!!!! I read the last comment of Criston and I just got wondering about the childhood of all the kids and a question arose. Do Corlys and Viserys compete as the favorite grandpa, both seem as the type of wanting to be the favorite grandpa!!! And then great-grandpa to future King Elenar.
Here are some other posts about Grandpa Corlys and Grandpa Viserys in case those are of interest.
I think Corlys is one of those people who’s better at being a grandparent than a parent. He’s very tough on Laenor in S1 (and he’s even worse to the Hull boys in S2). Corlys has high expectations of his progeny so that they uphold his legacy and their house’s legacy.
In contrast, he has a soft spot for Lucerys. At first I think it’s because Corlys’s grandkids just need to be well-behaved cuties while they’re little, which is easy for them to do. When they get older, that might be when he gets tougher—but I also think the death of Corlys’s kids changes him a lot. His grief for Laenor and Laena drives him to the Stepstones again, and I imagine he regrets the way he treated them sometimes. So he might try not to repeat the same mistakes with his grandkids.
When the Velargirls are younger, it’s easy for Corlys to be an indulgent grandpa. Jace always strives to be the perfect heir that people expect, Luce is a cutie pie who reminds Corlys of his own kids when they were little, and Joff is…Joff. 😅 Corlys and Rhaenys make frequent trips to visit their granddaughters, and what kid doesn’t love getting tons of presents from their grandparents? I also imply in Compromise that the Velargirls periodically stay at Driftmark, like a sort of fun family vacation. If Corlys and Viserys are competing to be the favorite grandpa, Corlys is pretty confident he’s winning.
Viserys also thinks he’s winning, but that’s because he’s complacent from living in close proximity to his granddaughters on a daily basis. Of course he’s the favorite grandpa! He sees them almost every day! He also gives them lots of presents, but his strategy is something like “of course the girls will love these super expensive gowns, every girl loves gowns” and “let’s give the girls a bunch of sweets today, kids love sweets.”
But the Velargirls notice he treats his own kids very differently. Jace has definitely dealt with Aegon’s moods and daddy issues quite a bit. Luce is sometimes deliberately obtuse to familial tensions, but she registers it on a subconscious level. Joff is, as always, perspicacious beyond her age. So even though the girls enjoy being indulged by Viserys, they have this knowledge in the backs of their minds.
As for Elenar…I think it’d be hilarious if Otto somehow sneaked in and managed to be his favorite great-gramps.
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atopvisenyashill · 5 months ago
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nah listen if i’m viserys and i’m thinking “how do i set up rhaenyra as best as i can but also i’m horny and lonely” i’m having a gilf show and finding myself a sexy grandma to fuck so there’s no chance of having a kid. lowborn mistress imo is too risky. i’m not marrying rhaenyra to qoren - again, too risky to have a half dornish heir - but i AM reaching out and being like “i’ll make my insane brother stop carpet bombing the stepstones & help you hold that area if u give me some tips and tricks on how to get a woman in a ruling position.” the laenor match is good, but tbh i’m sitting down with rhaenys sans corlys when i visit driftmark and being like “give it to me straight - do you think your kid will make a good consort and what are potential drawbacks that we should work on here.” i’m making rhaenyra go on progresses constantly, especially in the crownlands and the reach (where the religious freaks are). the moment she feels ready for it, i’m making her master of laws. if anyone in my small council starts pushing back against this, they are getting fired so fucjing fast. i’m telling daemon that if he can ever manage to have some fucking kids, i’d be happy to marry them to rhaenyra’s kids but if he doesn’t throw 100% of his support behind her and get his goddamn old man hands OFF OF HER until she’s had at least ONE (1) silver haired heir, we are about to get so fucking exile happy so fucking fast. i’m pouring over the laws for a loophole that lets me do this while not making the gc 101 look stupid and if i can’t find one, i’m bribing the lords paramount and/or the crownlands lords to start doing some absolute primogeniture stuff. if these bitches thought alysanne was a shrewish prude they are in for a BIG FUCKING SURPRISE when it comes to viserys-with-a-fucking-brain babeeeee
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lizzie-queenofmeigas · 6 months ago
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Fixing Ep.III of House of the Dragon
Timeline
The wedding would take some months to plan and arrange so by the time Viserys and Alicent get married she is sixteen going on seventeen and he might be 29/30.
Rhaenyra would be fourteen
The wedding takes place at the begining of the year 108
Scenes
First scene could be Daemon planning with Corlys what to do when they reach the Stepstones. Planning the strategy.
A scene with Viserys and the small council planning the wedding (Alicent and Rhaenyra are also there) and then talking about Daemon and Corlys: "Lord Corlys and house Velaryon won't attend the wedding, I have hurt their pride" "Something must be done about Daemon" "Let him play at war, it keeps him busy"
Following will be a scene of Alicent trying to talk to Rhaenyra right after they left the small council chambers. Rhaenyra wouldn't accept talking to her.
Next could be a scene of Otto and Alicent talking about the wedding and Rhaenyra: "You must forget about Rhaenyra, you are to be queen now. Besides, she is already searching for more ladies-in-waiting. No matter, we already have what we wished for" It's pretty weird that Rhaenyra only had one lady-in-waiting so in this scene we could hint at it being Otto's doing.
Next a scene of Rhaenyra asking Lyonel Strong about his daughters, wanting to have them as her ladies-in-waiting: "The daughters of the Lord of Harrenhal would do well as my ladies" The general audience (most) has seen GOT so they might know what Harrenhal is.
Afterwards we should have a scene with Criston and Rhaenyra. The more scenes we have with them the more his betrayal will sting later on.
I think a scene between Laena and Daemon would be very beneficial, given their marriage later. Besides, Laena is the rider of Vaghar and as they are planning on Driftmark seeing her there is the most logical way to go.
They could also have a scene of Laenor convincing Corlys to take him with him to the Stepstones. We need more scenes of the Velaryons in general.
A Viserys and Rhaenyra scene where they dine together and talk about Alicent. Rhaenyra is obviously mad at both. Viserys forces her to help Alicent to dress for the wedding.
Rhaenyra helps Alicent dress for the wedding and Alicent tries to rekindle the relationship, but Rhaenyra doesn't talk to her. They could show how much that hurts them both.
The wedding, the representatives of the houses being there except the Arryns. Otto saying something like "The Arryns have not even shown" and someone saying "The family of the old queen was always unlikely to do so" Establishing Aemma as an Arryn will help people understand why the Vale supports Rhaenyra
Let's be honest, If this was in HBO they would definitely be putting Viserys's and Alicent's wedding night.
Part 1 Part 2
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shesjustanothergeek · 2 years ago
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His Love
|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|
Part Fifteen
Master List of Series
Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.
Author's Note: Hey, besties! Guess who passed their State Board Exams…? ME! I DID! Now, all I gotta do is fill out some paperwork, and I'll be licensed. I've started working already, but it's only three days a week right now, so pretty good! Don't hesitate to comment or ask me questions. I love hearing them and seeing others discuss them. Happy reading, everyone, and let the celebrations commence!
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Chapter Warnings: Violence
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The celebrations of Aegon's birth had finally arrived. All the Great Houses were expected to come—all but one. The Velaryons and part of the Targaryen faction were not extended an invitation. Rhaenys had taken this as a political slight by Queen Alicent. She was collateral damage in the cold war between Rhaenyra and her old friend. Guilty by association.
Lord Corlys was still fighting for control of the Stepstones and had put his loyal Lady Wife on the Driftwood throne to rule in his stead. The alliance of the Triarchy and House Martell of Dorne was of much concern, and without the aid of the King's fleet, the battle was all but lost. Yet, through it all, the Sea Snake remained on the collection of islands, fighting tooth and nail against those who wished control of his rightful territory.
Princess Rhaenys did not know of your efforts inside the Keep, slowly but surely attempting to send help to the losing battles. The day she was crowned the "Queen Who Never Was" came to mind. She felt abandoned by her cousins, Daemon and Viserys, for refusing to take a stance on the insurgents. Baela was her only solace, her heart missing the pieces her children used to occupy. She would never forgive them if her husband died.
You sat at the exponentially smaller desk in your room, the maids you had yet to become familiar with brushing your silky hair as you read two pieces of parchment.
Jace and your father had sent you letters. Daemons were curt, mentioning nothing about how he missed or thought of you while away. It was as if he was speaking to a fellow warrior, not his daughter. Only ensuring you were still on track with your efforts, wanting to know how far the influence of the Hightowers reached and when to expect words regarding the Stepstones. You ignored him for now, folding it in threes and placing it in the side drawer of your desk as you read your brother's.
"Dear Sister,
Jealousy became me when I bid you farewell a few days ago. I knew what I said was wrong as the words lept from my tongue. I am not proud, and regret has haunted me since. I express my sincerest and deepest apologies.
You have always been open and honest with your emotions, and I wish to do the same. I love you, sissy, despite what my words may have alluded to. You have experienced hardships that no child of that age should witness, and you did not grow to resent your family for it. I cannot say the same for me if something similar happened.
I wish the Queen did not invite you to Kings Landing, not because I am jealous, but because I haven't a clue what I mean to do without you. Father wants me to be strong, like you. He wants me to practice swords like you. He wants me to listen to Mother's audiences like you, but I am not you. I am a boy whose lineage is clouded with stolen kisses and an accidental fire.
I wish you were still here so I could feel your embrace. I do not believe I can handle Daemon for much longer. How have you done it for so long?
The days cannot go fast enough as I await your return. I intend to give you a proper apology once you are home. Perhaps we can spend some time in Aegon the Conqueror's Garden as I grovel? I will arrange a picnic for when I do. I don't want to beg on an empty stomach.
Missing you,
Jacaerys Velaryon, your wretched little brother."
His endearing letter did not help the ache for Dragonstone. A smile burned your cheeks as you rubbed the dry paper between your fingers. You could smell the brimstone on the fibers, the sulfuric scent taking you home.
"My Lady," a servant gained your attention, taking your focus off the sweet words. "The men should be returning from their hunts in the Kingswood soon. I would suggest we start readying you for the tourney later today."
You nodded wordlessly, giving them a tight-lipped smile as you put Jace's letter next to Daemon's. You will be sure to write them both later.
You were confident Jace would love to hear how the tourney went. He had always gravitated toward stories of knights in shining armor valiantly jousting for a lady's favor. He had spoken several times about wanting to participate in the events. That was the only thing that pushed him to pursue the sword, other than your mother's and father's orders.
You could picture your little brother atop a white steed, armor resembling a dragon with a lance in his hand, asking for the favor of one special noble girl. The image brought a genuine grin to your face. Jace was always the gentleman his Mother taught him to be.
You wanted to stand out amongst the crowd of green royals you were sure to be seated with. It was to be your first public appearance since your legitimization, and you had to make an impression. You allowed your ladies to bathe you, and upon your exit from the tub, you requested one to show you the variety of gowns you had brought. Black was always the most innovative option, representing the colors of your House, and there were plenty to choose from, thankfully. It was only a matter of which one.
You decide to help your decision by considering the weather and environment. Most of the gowns you had were thick for the constant chill of Dragonstone and would indeed have you draped over a chair with a fan to cool off despite the changing seasons. That had only left you with a few options, which immensely helped. It had revealed a dress you once deemed too scandalous to wear in your family's presence.
It was not typical Westerosi fashion. Rhaenyra had commissioned a tailor in Dorne to create a gown when you officially became of bedding age.
You could tell it was something she had longed to wear as a girl, a freeing and rebellious design, but etiquette and her position would not allow her to wear such exotic clothing. You did agree with her that it was stunning. The deep plunging 'v' of the neckline certainly accentuated your breasts and made them much more pleasing to the eye as your maids tightened the strings in the back.
The fabric was a combination of red with an overlay of black lace. Golden thread held the seams together, and a matching cape to your shoulders, leaving your arms bare. Pieces of Aurelian were sewn on the shoulder pads of it, looking like crumpled yellow leaves that cascaded down your biceps. A circled belt of silver was delicately snitched around your waist, the excess of the metal resting between your legs.
After you were dressed, the servants ushered you to the vanity, holding the draping fabric so it did not catch as they began to fix your ebony hair. They elected not to put it in its usual braided style, instead rolling and twisting the long strands onto themselves until they reached the base of your head, pinning it to your head. It was simple, and you immensely enjoyed the freedom it gave to your range of motion.
Next, they adorned you with matching jewelry and a delicate headpiece that arched over the crown of your head. A necklace of a curled golden dragon wrapped around the hollow of your throat, a long needlelike chain attached to it as a polished metal fang hung at the end. They then slid a hammered bronze cuff on your wrist and rings of the same color, dragonglass, and rubies for its gems. The ladies applied the final touch of makeup to your skin, a fine powder to rid the shine from your nose, a dusting of rouge, and a hint of rose-colored balm to your lips.
You felt like the Targaryen princesses of centuries past, the blood of old Valeryia pumping your heart.
You would give anything for your Mother to see you now, dressed in the traditional colors of her House. Though you couldn't hide your relief in Daemon not being here, you were sure he would've made you change or barred your door to stop you from escaping in such scandalous garb. You stood, finding the dagger Daemon had gifted you and the belt it was connected with. You hooked it around your waist, adjusting it to be just out of view.
Your servants stared at you in awe, more amazed by their work than you as you grabbed the wreath of black charm lilies and black crystal pansies you requested to give your favor to the knights who asked. You didn't believe any of them would but knew it was proper to have one nonetheless. You smiled at your ladies, conveying your gratefulness through your unusual eyes. You turned, facing the three women, your cape resembling a waterfall.
"I believe I haven't inquired of your names yet," you prompted, looking them over. The youngest of three fiddled with the hem of her white apron, avoiding your gaze. "I do apologize for that. You all have been very kind to me."
"I am Jeyne," the oldest spoke first, giving you a curtsy. Grey hair poked from under her servant cap, wrinkles creasing the corners of her eyes.
"I am Fiora," the next one spoke, bowing. She appeared not much older than you, with bright green eyes and a splash of tan freckles on her nose and cheekbones.
You would guess the youngest girl, around Jace's age, continued playing with her clothes, muttering a meek "Dyana" and quickly bending her legs. You frowned at her response, sensing her anxiety, and reached for her tiny fingers, rough and dry with callouses.
"You need not be frightened, Dyana. I am not as wicked as the whispers claim me to be," you jested with a grin. She returned it, but it did not reach her eyes. A pang of sadness struck your chest as your gaze flicked over her as if you could understand the reason for her apprehension at a glance.
"My Ladies," you said, standing and clasping your hands in front of you as you bowed your head. "It is a pleasure to become acquainted finally. I am sure we will become close during my stay here." You smiled at all of them once more, your attention resting briefly on the meek fair skinned girl. "If any of you need something from me in the meantime, no matter how small or trivial, I will be at your service as you are to me."
The three shared bewildered expressions, Fiora's mouth agape as all muttered their thanks.
You supposed their reaction was understandable. They had never been treated like people before, almost making you feel bad for your motives.
Your plan would not hurt them in the long run. If anything, they would most likely be grateful to have a princess as an ally. Most nobles did not realize how much of their life depended upon the people serving them, not considering that they saw and heard everything within their homes. You would be a fool not to take advantage of that during such tumultuous times.
"Well," you clapped your palms together, giddy to finally have that out of the way, "I have grown rather famished and wish for some snacks before I watch men get rammed with sticks." Jeyne grinned, and Fiora bit her pink lips at your crude words. "I know that this is not proper, but I truly am in the dark. If you would not mind, could you lead me to the kitchens? I frequented them much at Dragonstone, as midnight snacking is a vice of mine, and wish to know where they are when the cravings emerge."
Knowing your next moves hinged on their response, you had planned those words carefully. You needed to tell them something that they believed was a secret. Daemon had told you once that revealing something one would deem embarrassing, that displaying vulnerability to a fellow human would have them drop their defenses, but if they were smart enough to realize this, it would ruin everything.
Fiora gave a toothy grin, nodding vigorously before looking at her companions. The other two shared the same smile. Through those actions, you could quickly tell what her personality was. She was a giddy and sweet girl, albeit a bit more susceptible than someone of her age should be. The other women followed along. Her joy was contagious as they approached the kitchens with you on their heels.
A self-satisfied smirk replaced the kind smile you wore for your servants.
Everything was going according to how you imagined it. Your maids took kindly to you, and as you traversed the long hallways and steps of the Keep, each passing nobleman and servant noticed your presence. One Lady gasped as you rounded a corner and met face-to-face, quickly scurrying away like a scared field mouse. A man who stood over a full head taller than you raked his eyes over your form, his attention staying on your breasts long enough for Jeyne to notice. She silently stepped before you could truly capture his face, only noting his long black hair and eyes.
Servants bustled throughout the kitchens, some throwing large pieces of dough on a floured table, others running with plates of food and ingredients in their hands. None of them paid attention as you entered, hidden behind the uniformed girls, having to duck beneath a misplaced stone in the stairwell ceiling.
Jeyne, Dyana, and Fiora led you through an archway into a room filled with even more people who still did not notice you, peeling carrots, potatoes, and other vegetables. You felt your chest deflate in defeat at your seemingly unimportant presence, not anticipating them to continue their tasks and not spare you a glance. It was not every day a member of the royal family graced them with their appearance.
It almost felt like the servants of the Keep did not see you as a Targaryen but as just another one of them. Your mouth soured at the thought, digging your nails into your palms until they left imprints. It would be best if you were happy to see them collectively agree you were not like the rest of your kin, but still, not receiving the recognition you tried so hard for was gutting. You could feel your body deflating, curling in on itself as your previous confidence dwindled.
No matter, you told yourself. This can work to my advantage.
They saw you as not someone to be feared, and perhaps you could extend those same opinions toward your Mother. Rhaenyra needed everyone who resided in the Red Keep to be on her side when she ascended the throne, the nobles who lived at court, and the knights who protected and defended the Targaryen name. Everyone was needed.
Jeyne handed you a peach from off the wooden table a male servant used to cut some vegetables, smiling as your thumb stroked the fuzzy skin. You could still remember when fruits such as that were unavailable to you, though these memories were faint and grew more difficult to recall as time passed. Dyana then found a jug of cider, filling a small goblet up to wash down the sweet taste that danced on your tongue, and Fiora used the corner of her apron to wipe the stray juices that dribbled out of the corner of your mouth. You smiled at them both gratefully, fighting on the inside not to swat their doting hands away, feeling like a child again.
You sucked the last bit of the pulp from the large seed before removing it from your lips and throwing it in the bucket they used for scraps. You continued to sip on the brass goblet Dyana had given you, following them from out of the kitchens and into a courtyard you had never seen before. It was lined with pens filled with livestock. Sheep, pigs, goats, and chickens belting, chirping, and snorting as you passed.
You were still determining exactly where the tourney would be held but had yet to hear of the vast and spacious arena it was. You knew you would be sitting inside the royal box next to the other noble members of your family, and you couldn't hide how less than joyful that made you feel. You did wonder if the King would be there, knowing that what the Maester and Otto said were complete lies about his health. Some of you still held onto hope that there was some truth in their deceitfulness. Indeed, they couldn't be so bold as to say something that could easily be disproven with one's eyes. The next Council meeting would undoubtedly be an eventful one.
Your ladies led you back inside an entrance of the castle you had never seen before, urging you to follow their steps and assuring you were close. Soon, the low rumbling of voices could be heard. Different pitches and accents all melted into one continuous barrage of sound as you ascended the stairs to your seat.
The first leg of the tourney was set to begin in a short while, and most of the royal family had already made their appearance. Even the eldest prince sat in a high back chair, practically falling asleep with a cup of wine in his hand. A slight grin formed on your face at the endearing sight, appearing as if you were looking at a babe rather than a man grown. His perfectly pink lips stuck out in a pout, a sigh escaping as he adjusted in his seat.
You were standing above him diagonally on the top riser and could see every huff, and every scoff he made as his Mother spoke to him, but Aegon could not see you. Queen Alicent said straight ahead, not looking at him as you saw her permanent scowl. It was her firstborn's name day, which should be celebrated with nothing but smiles and laughs. One would think she would be happy for such an occasion.
Aegon said something to his Mother that made her snap her head in his direction, ready to offer him some choice words as she saw you.
You could hear the gasp leaving Alicent clutching the pointed star of the Seven glued to her neck. You swore by the sound she made she had not seen you but the Stranger himself as her face paled. The Queen whispered something as she quickly looked away. Aegon was just as shocked as you regarding his Mother's reaction. He thought she might faint as he swiftly turned to see what it was all about.
Your gazes looked at one another, and your cheeks reddened under his stare. You felt your heart flutter in your chest, offering him a quick curtsey as you walked to an open seat at the lowest riser, crossing your legs as you adjusted the dagger at your hip.
Aegon had died. Well, it certainly felt like it when he laid his eyes on you. For once, his vision was clear and not yet clouded by the drink, and he could see your perfectly crafted body. He immediately went to the plunging neckline of your dress; how could he not? Your breasts were right there where he could see, noticing how much bigger they were than he initially imagined. He then noticed the curled golden dragon around your neck, reminding him of his own, Sunfyre. Had you chosen that for him? Did you purposefully put that on with him in mind? Aegon could feel his cock harden at the thought.
He watched you descend the giant stone steps, holding your skirts up so you did not trip as he saw your bare ankles. He could hardly contain the twitch of his hips at the sight. Aegon had been with many women in his life, too many to count, and yet seeing just a peak of your hidden skin had him nearly spilling in his breeches.
He thought back to your moment in the Godswood. Underneath the Heart Tree, the fragments of the sunrise peeking through the leaves dotted your skin with beautiful rays of yellow. One had been over your eyes, and Aegon had seen your pupils shrink and reveal more of the purple that bathed there. He never wanted to leave that moment with you. He wanted to stay forever underneath that tree, trace the scars on your skin, and kiss every part of you until he had you squirm underneath him.
Aegon remembered how your breathing hastened as your jaw trembled at his touch, your face contorted into a gorgeous pout as he pulled your lip with his thumb. He noticed how you were clenching your thighs together even though you had no idea. Nothing had changed between the two of you, he realized. Aegon knew you desired him as much as he desired you. You just did not know it yet.
Gods. He wanted to take the empty seat next to you so badly but knew what his Mother would say if he did-- what she would do if he did. So, instead, he signaled for a serving girl to fill his chalice to the brim, drowning his sorrows in Arbor Red.
***
You felt rather pathetic as you shifted in your seat, the wood creaking with your weight as you still held your wreath of flowers. You could sense everyone's eyes on you and the empty chairs positioned at your sides. No one wanted to sit next to the bastard, you mocked in your head, feeling as if your eyes would pop out of your skull if you rolled them any harder.
It was the fifth round of the tourney, and five men had been knocked off their horses, but no fighting had ensued. Bracken, Tully, Arryn, Tyrell, and Blackwood boys had to skulk back to the stables knowing they had lost.
The King had still yet to show if he was ever going to, and you had given a fierce glare at Otto Hightower a few rows up when he announced the tournament had officially started. You had caught the stare of Princess Helaena in the process and immediately softened, returning her kind smile before the One-Eyed Prince stole her. You made a mental note to see her at the feast the following evening, perhaps share a dance or two.
With the end of the fifth round started the sixth, and the vibrant lion banners of House Lannister were prominently displayed as Ser Tyland entered the arena. He sat atop his chestnut horse, trotting over to the squire that held his lance. He approached the royal box, and you thought for a moment he might ask you for your favor. You couldn't hide the distance as he smiled up at you but turned his face away, looking at someone behind you.
"I am Ser Tyland of House Lannister," he announced.
Yes, you twat, you said internally, we know who you are. You live here.
"Princess Helaena," he called, and she looked up from her fingers to the man below her. His voice nearly made you vomit. "Would you do me the honor of bestowing your favor for the next round, Princess?" he asked chivalrously.
She glanced at her grandsire beside her, and he nodded in approval as she stood, her pale yellow dress shining in the autumn sun.
"Of course," she smiled, walking to the steps to place her ring of white and blue flowers on the pole of his lance.
"I thank you, your Grace," he replied and then trotted back to the waiting young squire.
Helaena stood there momentarily, her eyes glassy as she looked at you. It didn't feel like her gaze was on you, but more looking through you as she whispered. "Heed the beast within the deep. Rock runs red, and rocks bleed."
You looked at her confused, brows furrowing, and reached for her hand, asking her to speak louder. She quickly smacked it away, her eyes widening in fear as if she was suddenly woken from a dream, and she hurried up the steps.
You didn't have time to dwell on Helaena's outburst as Ser Tyland Lannister's opponent entered the wring. His armor was an impenetrable crepuscule steel and as shiny as the scales that covered your dragon's flesh, a helmet the same color with a mane of yellow hairs spanning from his crown to the base of his neck. His banners were ones you had only seen on paper. Most of the fabric was black, just like his thick armor, but the sigil was a deep golden kraken with ten long tentacles, nearly spanning the entire flag. The squid-like beasts of House Greyjoy were said to terrorize the depths of the oceans and sink the ships of those unsuspecting.
You were unsure of which Greyjoy it was. Dalton or Veron or maybe a cousin or some distant kin that shared the name. You didn't care who it was. They were just another lord or knight seeking fame inside a wood and dirt stadium.
You signaled for a servant, and he gave you a chalice of wine as you slumped in your seat. You didn't want to cloud your mind with alcohol, always the one to be alert and observe things other people may not notice, but this was getting rather irksome, and you needed something to do other than sit and look pretty.
"Ser Dalton of House Greyjoy," the knight said, his horse a dusty grey color as he lifted his helmet off his head. You ignored him with confidence that it was not you he was speaking to, taking another gulp of wine as you swirled the drink.
Dalton was a fierce and ruthless man. You had heard his stories of his youth sailing the Basilisk Isles with his late uncle, pillaging the towns there. He had somehow claimed a Valyrian steel sword named Nightfall during those plunders. At one point, he had aided in the battle of the Stepstones as a sellsail, where his uncle was murdered. It had been rumored in a fit of vengeance, he killed every enemy within his sight and emerged from the battle victorious and drenched in blood. Since then, he bore the title of the Red Kraken.
"I come seeking the favor of the bastard girl the court speaks so much of." A collective gasp sounded in the royal box, shocked at his words.
You barked out a laugh at Ser Dalton, attempting not to choke on the liquid you just swallowed. You should have been insulted at him for calling you such a name. In the eyes of the law and the Seven, you were no longer a bastard, but clearly, that did not stop people from claiming you as such.
"You have found her, Ser Dalton of House Greyjoy," you mocked, crossing your legs as you began to play with a small leaf. You smiled as you noticed the maroon outline of his House sigil on his breastplate.
Everything thing about him was dark and menacing. He radiated an aura of malevolence from the inside as if you would cut him open; he would not bleed the same red. "Though, I do not think you deserve my favor after calling me such a name." Men and women released more gasps, and you could hear someone muttering a soft "Gods be good" under their breath.
You waited for the following apology, but it did not come, leaving you sitting there like a fool. You hummed in disapproval, pushing yourself upright.
"I am no longer a bastard girl," you stood, holding the flower wreath between your fingers, "but that of a woman born from a night of sinful heat and passion. I am skilled with the blade and well-read. I study history, philosophy, and the politics of the realm." Ser Dalton's onyx gaze crept from your leather slippers to the white streak in your hair. He watched you step closer and lean over the railing so only he could hear you. "I am not just a simple fucking bastard girl."
He watched the words roll off your tongue, gripping his lance tighter with parted lips as you placed the circle of black and wine-colored flowers on it.
You fixed your spine, staring down your nose at the bannerman before you. "Win this joust Ser Dalton of House Greyjoy, and I will forgive the slight you have made upon me. For I am afraid if you do not, the sand of the Iron Islands shall turn to glass, and your Salt Wives will finally be free. You have my favor and my luck." You flicked your wrist as you walked back to your seat. "Off with you."
"Thank you, Princess. You honor me deeply." He lifted the fist that carried his helmet and crossed it over his chest, bowing his head with an amused smirk.
You sat down, grabbed the cup you had been working on, and asked the servant to fill it again, unbothered with his courtly manners. Ser Dalton placed his helmet back on and readied his horse for the first bout.
You almost chuckled at the sight, drink to your lips. Sitting on his horse, he looked like a nasty black pony with a yellow mane, ready to bite and kick anyone nearby. His whole get-up was quite ridiculous as you continued to watch.
Ser Tyland's armor was so very much... Lannister. There was no other word to describe the style. He wore a long red flowing cape, his dense silver breastplate trimmed with gold in the shape of a lion.
An announcer with a sizeable brass horn stepped onto a wooden platform a few meters before the royal box. He wore a plum-colored hat with a dyed feather and an off-white tunic dampened with sweat and stained with dust as he shouted the outlining phrases for the beginning of this round. He introduced each House and their respective ranks within them.
"Ser Dalton of House Greyjoy, Lord Reaper of Pyke, conqueror of thirteen Salt Wives, Lord of the Iron Islands," he boomed into the sky, swaying his hand to the right side of the arena to where the man was. He paused to let the crowd shout their praises.
Screams and hollers of people echoed loudly, drowning out the announcer as he introduced Tyland next. You could see the proud Lannister boy's ego was hurt at the apparent favoritism, and you feigned a pout at the sight.
Finally, he blew his horn, signaling they could begin. Ser Dalton did not waste a breath in fear as he charged at Ser Tyland, his yellow-striped lance already bent and ready to take his opponent off his horse. You scoffed, taking another sip of the sickly sweet wine.
If he planned to knock Tyland down on his first try, he clearly did not comprehend the point of a joust. You did not understand why the audience would love him if he intended to get this over swiftly. This was supposed to be entertainment and not battle. It was meant to be a spectacle for the crowd, a break from the mundane life of the court.
At the last second, as Dalton and Tyland were about to collide stick to the chest, Ser Dalton lifted his lance straight. Ser Tyland's breezed past his rival, completely missing his goal with a cheer from the crowd. You mirrored their sentiments but did not show it on the outside, only adjusting in your seat with a soft sigh. You saw Dalton to the left now, and if you did not know any better, smirked at you. Arrogant, just like the Lannisters.
They went at it again, the hooves of their steeds thundering on the packed earth. This time neither of them started with their poles down, only for Ser Tyland to raise it at the last moment and knock Ser Dalton in the shoulder. Sadly, he did not fall off his horse and only lost his grip on the lance, dragging a line in the dirt. You laughed, pleased to have witnessed at least some bruising to the man's pride.
You tried your best to ignore the stares of those behind you. They had been on you since you sat. No doubt, if you looked, you would only be met with aversion and disgust. You steeled yourself, moving from your slouched position to rest your hands on the arms of the chair.
Aegon was part of the stares, though his expression differed significantly from the others. His Mother had cast him a sidelong glance at his reaction, and only then did he outwardly calm. He had been inside his mind until the squid boy approached you, asking for your favor. He even had the gull to call you a bastard! In front of nearly the entire court of the Red Keep! Oh, how Aegon wanted to call his dragon and burn the fish to pieces.
It also did nothing to soothe him when he saw you lean over the box fence, telling the squid boy only something he could hear. He knew your breasts were on display for the man judging by his hungry gaze. At one point, Aegon swore he saw him adjust his stance in the saddle.
Aegon was furious. His nails dug into his seat's material, feeling splinters wedge underneath them. He stole a pitcher of wine from a servant, keeping it on his lap so he could have continued access to it.
He was so, so furious as he watched your sudden interest in the tournament. He knew you were only mesmerized by the men in front of you because Ser Dalton gave you attention. Aegon wasn't upset over that; no, he was upset over the fact that the Lord of Pyke had won the round by hitting Tyland Lannister straight into the chest, sending him flying into the dust. He noticed how your shoulders lifted with barely contained excitement as he watched Ser Dalton send a bow your way.
He groaned, not filtering his discontent for the rest of the rounds that unfolded, which, sadly, each one Ser Dalton was the victor of. Eventually, the final bout started. His opponent was a Glover boy from the north, unsure of which one, but it didn't matter as he witnessed the Red Kraken get thrown from his horse. Aegon couldn't help but cheer theatrically at the sound of the lance splintering when colliding with his stomach.
He had caught your sudden gaze then, brown eyes flitting over how he stood and clapped his hands. You didn't smile but gave him a look of confusion, your thick brows furrowing. He had felt his jubilance subside, but only slightly.
Suddenly, Ser Dalton shouted, yanking a sword and shield from his squire and challenging the victor to a duel. Aegon felt his stomach sink into his chair as a strand of his blonde mane obscured his vision. Oh, splendid, he mused; the squid has pride.
The Glover had taken up the challenge without strife, still proudly wearing the banner of his House on his back. Aegon wondered if you had ever witnessed a duel before. He knew you had taken a life, but it was not the same as watching someone do it. Selfishly, he dreamed you would turn away at the sight and seek comfort from him, but that was all it was... a dream.
You watched with surprise as the Glover's and Dalton's swords clashed, the clang ringing in your ears. Each slash and thud of their metal longswords sent a jolt through your bones, curling your toes and squeezing your drink in a vice-like grip. You hated to admit that you felt nervous, your heart beating just a little too fast to be considered normal.
Ser Dalton's swings were wild but held a skillful precision, connecting with the Glover's side. It knocked the wind out of the poor boy's lungs and had him raising his shield as Dalton kicked it, sending him stumbling further.
He was so savage, so bloodthirsty that it made you shiver. You finally understood why he was called the Red Kraken, and you feared for the Glover's life. Surely, he wouldn't kill the boy; you hoped he wouldn't. The poor lad looked like he had just become a man. He was much shorter than Dalton but still taller than you, and he looked like this was his first tourney. You wished he would yield.
Ser Dalton swung at the boy, his armored fist connecting to his jaw with a nauseating crunch of bone and metal. Confidently, he kicked to disoriented teen in the stomach, knocking him to the ground, his sword falling just out of reach. He went to pull his shield to defend himself, but Dalton stomped on the arm that carried it. You could see how the Kraken stood over the Armored Glove, unable to hear what he said to him. You didn't need to. You knew what came next, and it did not frighten you. The Glover lost the duel as the Greyjoy raised his sword, cutting off the words that attempted to leave his tongue with a blade to the throat.
It was bloody. So very bloody. The essence of the Glovers' life force spurted from his body onto the face of Ser Dalton Greyjoy, dripping from his chin. You heard the gasps of those around you, a platter dropping at the horrific show as the ground became saturated with red. You didn't feel sad as you watched two people drag his body away, the crowd bursting into cheers and applause. In fact, you felt hardly anything, sitting as if nothing had happened as the announcer raised Ser Dalton's hand in triumph. You were used to death by now.
To the outside person, you looked alright, but Aegon knew you were anything but. Your knuckles blanched around your drink, resting it in your lap. He felt foolish to think you would shy away from such things. He knew you were much more robust than that, but still, he hoped you would run to him.
Everything next seemed to happen in slow motion. Aegon watched the crown of roses intended for the Queen of Love and Beauty be placed into Dalton's bloodied palms, strutting over to the royal box as he called out the most beautiful name he had ever heard... Yours.
His little one. His love.
Aegon went to jump out of his seat, but the firm hand of his Mother yanked his arm, abruptly pulling him back down before he could mock the royal family with his outburst. He wanted to rip his Mother off him and run to you. He wished to hide you from the hundreds of eyes staring at you. This wasn't right. He panicked. This cannot be right. You were his, and he was yours until the end of days.
He pictured what Ser Dalton's head would look like on a spike as you walked down the stairs and onto the small platform below. He watched the Salt Lord's eyes rake across your body as he placed the crown on your head, whispering something that made you clench your fists.
Everyone knew what this meant grandiose display meant. The Lord Reaper of Pyke intended to court his pretty girl and make a Salt Wife out of her. No, Aegon thought. That will never do.
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I hope y'all liked this chapter. It's an exciting one! We've met a new character, Dalton Greyjoy. He plays a big part in The Dance of Dragons. I won't spoil it for anyone, but let's say his heart runs black… The next chapter is the feast for our baby boy's 20th birthday! Let's hope Aegon gets everything he wishes for.
Tagged Peeps:  @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @rachelnicolee, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @fatalewomen, @somemydayy, @ariana-dumbledore8, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @sunfyresrider, @sunny-boy-06 
Bold means I couldn't tag you for some reason :(
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sunfyre-targaryen · 7 months ago
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HOUSE OF THE DRAGON S2E1
(my personal opinion)
let's begin from the start. i almost cried when i saw the north and the wall again and also ice on cregan's shoulders.
JACE: the definition of "prince of dragonstone". the scene where he comes back from the north to dragonstone and report the results of his missions to rhaenyra while having tearing eyes for luke, killed me. it was clear that he felt guilty for what happened to luke.
CREGAN: absolutely wonderful. the stark i wanted. even if we haven't seen much of him.
RHAENYS: when i heard her speaking in high valyrian to meleys, i screamed "finally!". she put daemon at his place with two sentences, she slayed.
DAEMON: i think he should remember himself that rhaenyra has the power, she is the queen, not him.
CORLYS AND ALYN: i like the story about alyn saving corlys during the battle of the stepstones. i hope that the fact that he may be his son comes out and honestly i can't wait to see addam.
RHAENYRA: she said only four words and took the scene from everybody else. her grief, her pain touched me deeply. emma's interpretation was just perfect.
ALICENT: when she prays for her mother, viserys and luke got me emotional. i liked a lot her conversation with otto and also the fact that we saw her power slowly fading way now that she is a dowager queen. i didn't like that almost every alicent's scene was about her relationship with crispy cole. kinda useless for the plot in my opinion.
AEGON: finally more time screen for him. i loved seeing him being a good father. and i liked the fact that they portrayed him as a good person, maybe not the perfect king, but not evil and cruel (like his brother). i loved the fact that he is trying to do anything to not resemble his father.
OTTO: he is figuring out that aegon is not a doll in his hands and that he cannot control him like he did with viserys.
HELAENA: phia's interpreation was absolutely wonderful. the fact that she completely dissociate during b&c and how she reacts got me goosebumps. her eyes. absolutely a perfect reaction for dreamer helaena. and when she says "the killed the boy", the fact that she doesn't call him by his name or "my son", like she already knew about it all.
AEMOND: i cannot stand him. he is only behaving like that because he has vhagar. okay, great warrior but come on.
BAELA AND RHAENA: they were absolutely beautiful.
LUKE'S FUNERAL: the fact that joff burned the toy (the innocence), jace burned the child's clothing (the childhood) and rhaenyra burned the boy's clothing (future adulthood). luke's life turning into ashes.
B&C: different from the book, yes (thanks god). i cried the entire scene, it was awful...i can't even describe it.
in the end, i liked this ep. very much.
the tapestry at the beginning was just wonderful.
can't wait for ep.2
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blackcat419 · 5 months ago
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It’s pretty crazy how much HotD season 2 misunderstood Daemon’s character.
While Daemon has tried to gain power, he always gives it away or runs when power is taken away instead of fighting for it. Daemon doesn’t want to be the power on the throne, he wants to be loved by his family and the only way he thinks he can get the love is by being given symbols of power.
He runs away when Viserys gets mad at him and reinforces that he is not heir because Daemon feels rejected.
He goes to war in the stepstones not because he wants the power but because he wants Viserys to see him as strong again and so he can have Corlys fill in that role that Viserys left open. Once he was the stepstones, he gives them to Viserys because he doesn’t want to be a powerful pirate king, he wants his brother to love him and accept him.
Daemon goes after Rhaenyra so that he can become heir again by marrying her. But when Viserys rejects him because he loves his daughter more than Daemon and won’t let him hurt her, he runs away.
When he marries Laena, I think it starts off as him gaining favor with Corlys by giving his daughter a royal match and getting rid of her betrothed. But after, Daemon changes. He goes exploring with Laena and doesn’t try to become the next ruler of the three cities. He’s happy with her because he’s secure and doesn’t feel he needs to fight in a war to gain the love and approval of people.
But after Laena dies, Daemon feels he has to regain his position in Visery’s heart as his son in law because he needs someone to be that father figure again. I think that Daemon was the one who instigated both Laenor and Harwin’s deaths to free up Rhaenyra for marriage.
Now Dameon has to fight to keep Rhaenyra and himself in power. He kills Vaemomd, orchestrated Jaeheary’s murder, and leads the war for her. But he’s not happy because power is never what he wanted. He wants to be loved for himself and to be free and he finds that in Nettles. So when Rhaenyra tells him to kill Nettles, he decides he can’t continue to fight for Rhaenyra and must sacrifice himself to keep Nettles alive.
Dameon’s story is about realizing that power isn’t what he wants, he wants to be loved for himself and to be free from restraint and pain. He finds that love in Laena and Nettles. He never truly wanted the throne, he wanted the family member on the throne to love him.
youtube
Basically Daemon is a type 7 on the Ennegram. I’ll go more into it in his character analysis.
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leclercsfilm · 2 years ago
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dragon blood runs thick
summary; everyone knew what would happened
im idiot, enjoy. i need to improve my spelling and my vocabulary so i started this side blog in order to achive at least something with my knowledge of this language or to fix my mistakes which, of course i have lots. english is not my first language. i had this piece in my drafts for so long that i know probably no one is as smitten with daemon as they were when the series arrived.
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"You are still so cold" - Daemon mumbled.
They were curled up on a bed, trying to get some rest after eventful night.
"Then come closer. Warm me up" - she challenged him.
He turned around and faced her front while grabbing her arms to push her closer to him. Her head was on his chest while he stroked her back when she finally found the courage.
"I was with master this morning."
"Are you not feeling well?" Daemon's hand left her back, now grabbing her cheeks.
"I was...Not feeling very well for the past week. Expecially in the morning. He told me that it's nothing to worry about. He actually told me to be happy. I'm with child." looking up to Daemon, she wished for some affirmation. She's been nervous all day and pacing the whole castle.
"I am to be a father?" - he questioned.
"We are going to have child." - she repeated
Daemon kissed her cheeks, her lips, her hands. Finally, he'd been given a purpose. He'll give his dragonfly everything. He already had a few Targaryen names for the baby. Alyssa. Just like his mother. And Baelon. Just like his father.
"If it is a girl, I want to name her Daena. Or Daenya. I want to name her after you." - she softly declared her wish. She wants to look at her child and then to see Daemon in him.
"Oh... You are just perfect..." - he pinched her cheek. "I, on other hand want her to be Alyssa."
"We can name our other daughter Daenya. But this one can be Alyssa." - she promised
"Other? You plan on more? What if it is a son?"
"Maybe after your father or brother."
He couldn't wait to choose a dragon egg for his little dragon.
.
Daemon was standing near the iron chair. He wanted to talk to Viserys about Stepstones. His older brother seemed to be uninterested about defending their best interests.
Lord Corlys already gave up on a help of the king. He and his love, Princess Rhaenys, decided to began a war. Open war against the danger that lurked on Stepstones.
Daemon while waiting for Viserys made up his mind about war. He is going to defeat the Crab King. He was already annoyed about dramatic situation with Lord Corlys and King.
Slowly walking out of the throne room, he spotted his wife's brother. He wasn't alone. Beside him was Otto Hightower. Her brother's loyalty was long forgotten. Daemon took his sister as a wife even if their House wasn't so noble. Even if she wasn't Valyrian. Viserys was obsessed with making a peace with Westerosi houses.
They weren't deserving of a Valyrian prince.
Yet, Daemon married her.
He already told his wife about Otto and her brother. They were plotting against Daemon. He told her. She wasn't surprised. Her brother was ambitious idiot with no political knowledge. But he got lucky to marry his sister to a prince.
He walked to the Dragon Pit, in order to see his companion, Caraxes. His dragon was excited for a ride that Daemon had promised long time ago. With his pregnant wife, Daemon couldn't really spend that much amount of time with his dragon. He tried to help, watch and protect her as much as possible. His own mother died after giving birth to his younger brother. He didn't wished that upon his wife.
When ride was over, and Caraxes was safe in Dragon Pit, he rushed over to the castle. He really didn't want to be out of castle for that much, but his wife assured him to go and spend some time with Caraxes. His red boy.
"My prince." - master stood in front of his chamber.
"Where are the guards?" - Daemon realised that something indeed had happened.
"Your lady wife began her labor. " - master whispered
Daemon stopped. Surely master is lying. It was not the time for her to give birth. It's early.
"It's early! How is it possible? Let me in." - Daemon opened the door.
Passing through the door, he saw his wife in the middle of the bed. Everyone was around her trying to save her. The little dragon rushed. He shouldn't. There is no way his little dragonfly could survive this.
"You must breathe... Continue pushing my lady."
"Daemon." - his wife softly said.
"My love..."- Daemon offered his hand to her. One was holding hers while other moved her hair out of way.
"You shouldn't be here."
"I will be here. It's going to be alright." - he hushed her
Just when she tried to say, another contraction hit. She screamed in such pain that probably whole castle heard.
"It's almost here. Keep pushing." - master informed
After five minutes, the child was born.
It was undeveloped, deformed girl with wings. It was rushed. She should be carrying her for little longer.
Daemon saw that she was fighting for her conscience. He looked at master only for him to hide the child.
"Where is our child?"
"My prince... Please... You should already know what it is." master looked away
Master came to her and began cleaning her and trying to stop blood.
She was tired and on a edge of a sleep.
"Where is my child? Is she dead? Let me see her"
Daemon looked at her. It was a girl. She was small, bloody. Undeveloped, weak thing. Turning her, he saw little wing poking out of her back.
"Dragon blood runs thick. You'll have another child. Children. You both are still young. There is still time."
With all this glory, about dragons, fire, riding, bravery. Here, on childbed, you've come to see the real battle of dragons.
"Daemon, where is our baby?" - she was trying to get someone at least to answer her.
He looked at her, coming closer to bed.
"She is gone. She didn't have a chance. Are you alright? Is she still bleeding?- Daemon asked master
"Let me see her." - she begged
"Daemon please"
"Daemon."
-
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syndrossi · 4 months ago
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I just hope I'm not boring you with my questions 😅
In Reverberate AU, how will Daemon react to being moved back in time? How quickly will he realize it? Will he decide that the gods saw his suffering and helped him, or will he find another explanation? Will he decide it was a very detailed dragondream? Will he be afraid that something might happen to the boys because of his interference? (Like them getting spring fever, for example.)
Never bored, these are perfect for the small break in my work day!
Daemon figures it out pretty quickly when a) he's suddenly back in the Stepstones, b) he's missing most of his scars and aches, and c) Corlys summons him to yet another strategy session about dealing with the Crabfeeder. A bit like Jon and Rhaegar, he perhaps dismisses it as a strange dream at first, leading to some scary moments of risk-taking that take years off Corlys's life, but eventually it sinks in that no, this is really happening.
And then he puts the timeline together and realizes that the boys will be born in about eight moons and he needs to wrap up this Stepstones bullshit FAST. Fortunately, he has ideas from Resonant to apply, along with knowledge of what tactics the Triarchy pirates have and have not yet adapted to, so he's able to lead a decisive victory that kills nearly all of the forces on the Stepstones. Then, for good measure, he descends upon one of their favorite secondary bases that they learn about later and scorches it for good measure to really set them back.
He goes immediately back to Runestone, confronts Rhea and secures her agreement about the ruse, then goes to King's Landing to give his crown to Viserys and tell him the good news before retreating into seclusion with Rhea and Elys to await the boys.
As to the why...I don't know that he has any solid theories. Was there a weird candle-related incident beforehand that he can blame? Nothing had gone horribly wrong in Resonant to justify the gods trying to snatch him away to "fix" anything. Like, he gets to have a second chance to be there for the boys' childhood, but why would the gods care about that? Perhaps he does eventually come to think of it all as an extremely vivid dragon dream.
I don't think Daemon fears that his presence will cause the boys harm--he's always been convinced that he is the best person to protect them. If they do ever take ill from the Spring Fever that killed Elys, though, he will be utterly terrified.
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