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starcrossed-lov3rz · 3 months

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The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 2

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, general filth, threesome, smut, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), and Rhaenyra ‘talks you through it’ Targaryen

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: ~1.6K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

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“Darling, you need to wake up,” Rhaenyra coaxes, stroking her fingers through your hair. “The tournament is today and the maids have already drawn you a bath.”

You groan, rolling away from your wife and back into Daemon’s warm side. “Five more minutes,” you grumble.

Rhaenyra snorts out a laugh, “we both know what that will turn into.”

“It’s not fair,” you whine. “Why does Daemon get to sleep in? Isn’t he competing in this damn thing?” You pull the blankets up over your head in an attempt to shut out the light.

Rhaenyra yanks the blankets down, and the sudden chill from the morning air is enough to wake both you and Daemon. “Now you’re both up.”

You grumble, rolling out of bed and attempting to wipe the sleep from your eyes. “Can you pick a dress for me, Nyra?”

Rhaenyra hums her agreement and rifles through your wardrobe to find something “tourney-appropriate.” You gaze at your wife, awestruck. It’s been six months since you woke up in Westeros. Y/N from a year ago couldn’t even imagine herself married, let alone to someone like Rhaenyra and Daemon. But now? You couldn’t really fathom life without them. Things were just….easy with them. Of course you argued, but the three of you never went to bed angry. You weren’t one to believe in soulmates, but the way they fit so effortlessly into you could convince you otherwise.

You softly pad across the room, sliding your arms around Rhaenyra’s waist and resting your chin on her shoulder. Pecking her cheek, you watch as she sifts through the wardrobe. “Does it really matter what I wear?”

“This is your first public outing since you lost your memories, of course it matters,” Rhaenyra chides. “I want this day to be perfect for you.”

You laugh light, nuzzling into Nyra and trailing kisses up her neck. “If you want this day to be perfect, we could just forget the tourney and make our own entertainment here.”

“You’re insatiable.” Rhaenyra says, turning around to kiss you deeply. You moan into her mouth as she grips your hips and pulls you closer into her. She nips at your lower lip, drawing a gasp from you. Your hands fly up to grip her hair, the white locks soft and neat despite last night’s activities.

Rhaenyra breaks the kiss, hands trail up your sides as she pulls your shift up and over your head. You shiver at the cool air, but Nyra chases that away as she kisses and nips her way down your neck. A curse is stuck in your throat as Rhaenyra plucks at your nipple with deft fingers. Your hands cradle her head as you try to pull her back up into a kiss, but Nyra bats ur hands away and laves her tongue over your nipple. “Nyra, please,” you whine.

She glances to the bed behind, a smirk playing on her lips. “It appears we have an audience,” she purrs. You look over your shoulder to see Daemon, lounging on the bed in nothing more than his wedding rings. His back is against the headboard as he lazily strokes his cock. “What do you say darling?” Rhaenyra asks as she turns you to face Daemon fully. “Should we give him a show?”

You nod desperately, wanting nothing more than for Rhaenyra to touch you again.

“Use your words.” Daemon’s voice is gravely from sleep.

“Please.”

“Please?” Rhaenyra teases. “I can’t give you anything unless you tell me exactly what it is you want.” Her left arm slides around your waist, holding you in place.

“Please touch me.”

“I am touching you.” She nibbles at your ear as she tightens her grip on your waist.

“You know what I me-”

“Oh I don’t think I do. Where does my needy little dragon want to be touched?” Rhaenyra asks. “Here?” Her right hand ghosts across your cheek. “Or maybe….here?” Her hand falls to tweak at your nipple.

“Ah-”

“No, I think you want me here,” Nyra purrs as she slips a hand between your thighs. You widen your stance, rocking your hips forward into her palm. She rubs tight circles on your clit as she reaches her other hand up to pluck at your nipples.

“You give in to her too easily,” Daemon chastises. “If you keep spoiling her like this, she’ll never want to leave our chambers.”

“My prince, don’t you have a tournament to prepare for?” you say as you turn your head to catch Nyra’s lips.

“Hmm, mouthing off are we?” Daemon hums in response. “I can think of a far better use for those pretty lips.”

“If you win today, I just might consider putting these ‘pretty lips’ to a use,” you tease.

Daemon’s gaze darkens and he motions you forward as he shifts to sit on the edge of the bed, spreading his thighs. You lick your lips in anticipation, stalking forward and dropping to your knees before him. Nuzzling into his knee, you kiss up his thigh and stop as you reach his cock. “Open,” he orders, slapping his cock lightly against your tongue.

You shift your thighs, trying to get some friction. “There’s my obedient little slut,” Daemon purrs. “All that fire just disappears the second she’s on her knees.”

His fingers wind into your hair, guiding his cock into your mouth. You eagerly lap at the head of his cock, lightly sucking. “That’s it,” he moans. “Keep going, my love. Take me a little deeper.”

You moan as you bob your head to take him deeper, sliding a hand between your legs to toy with your clit.

“None of that.” Rhaenyra says, pulling your hand away from your core before her hands replace Daemon’s to grip your hair. She sets a harder pace than Daemon, fucking your mouth down onto his cock.

Spit drips down your chin as your moans vibrate along his shaft. “Fuck,” Daemon swears. “You feel so good, my love–taking me so well.”

“Like she’s made for us,” Rhaenyra finishes.

Your hands grip at Daemon’s thighs as you fall into Nyra’s rhythm. You gag lightly as she forces you down a little too far. She pulls you back instantly, kissing your forehead in an apology before guiding you back down.

“Just like that,” she murmurs. “Can you take a little more?”

You attempt to nod as she slowly presses you down, and you feel the head of his cock bump the back of your throat.

“Gods,” Daemon moans.

“Fuck, look at you.” Rhaenyra murmurs. “Halfway down his cock and gagging for more. You can keep going for me, can’t you?”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you’re determined. You swallow around his cock as you let Rhaenyra guide you down.

“Eyes up, I want to watch as you take me down your throat.”

Your eyes flutter as you meet his gaze. You struggle to get the last few inches, but even your breathing before sliding home.

“Good girl,” Rhaenyra purrs. “Hold it.” Her hand holds you firmly down at the base of Daemon’s cock. “Right there.”

“Fuck, I’m so close.” Daemon breaths out. He moans, his hips bucking lightly as he struggles to restrain himself from fucking your face.

“Can you take it for us?” Nyra leans down to nip at your earlobe. “I want you to make Daemon come. You can do that, just a little more.”

Daemon swears as his restraint breaks. He thrusts up into your mouth, and you grip his thighs tighter in response. He climaxes with a low groan. Rhaenyra grips your hair harder, pulling your head back so you’re staring up at her.

“Don’t swallow,” she orders. “Open wide, let me see the mess he made.” You whine, eyes rolling back at her words. Your mouth drops open, and Rhaenyra groans at the sight. She leans down, kissing you fiercely, swiping her tongue across yours to taste Daemon’s cum.

You moan into the kiss, pulling at her dress in an attempt to get it off.

“Later love,” she says, pulling away from you. “Your bath is getting cold.”

“But I didn’t-”

“We know,” Daemon smiles wickedly. “But I have a tourney to prepare for.” He wanders over to the wardrobe, pullings a pair of pants on before stopping to plant a kiss on your lips.

“Not fair,” you whine. “I didn’t get to come.” Your hands reach for his waistband.

“No,” Daemon scolds, clasping your hands together in his larger one and wrenching your body into his. “You’re not in charge here. You’re going to listen and obey like a good little girl.” You whine in response, nodding furiously in agreement. Suddenly, Rhaenyra’s warm body brushes up against your back. She nibbles lightly at your ear before kissing and licking her way down your neck.

“No need to be cruel,” Rhaenyra purrs. “Our little dragon is just begging for attention the only way she knows how.”

You whimper, canting your hips into Daemon’s. He slides a thigh between yours, pressing it up against your cunt. Your eyes roll back and you moan at the friction. “Please,” you breathe out, your teary eyes meeting his.

“Later,” Daemon promises. “After I win the tournament, I promise to lock you in these rooms and fuck that needy cunt until you’re begging me to stop.”

NOTE: Should I…..turn this into an actual series with an actual plot….nahhhh. Maybe later. For now I’m just enjoying writing their dynamic. Can’t wait to drop part 3 for ya’ll.- Lacie <3

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#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd daemon #hotd rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon x reader #daemon x rhaenyra x reader #daemon smut #rhaenyra smut #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd smut #hotd fit #rhaenyra x reader

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years

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5 Dose Poison

Daemon Targaryen x Lannister!Reader

Summary: You would rather die than to marry Daemon Targaryen. Scratch that, you rather would have people think you were the reason why the prince died a cruel and mysterious death. Mmm, that's right.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Fem!Reader, reader is blonde cos of her house, spoiled brat themes, city girl!reader, y 'i-do-want-i-want' n, unapologetic attempts at murder, enemies to ... enemies, sexual tension™, typos, etc.

A/N: since no one requested anything, i thought of being annoying also just roll with the fact that chocolate exists in this universe ok

Jason exits first, then my father, then me. The moment I stick my head out of our carriage, I pinch my nose at the revolting smell in the air, "what in the name of the gods," I hold back a wretch, "is that revolting odor?" My older brother extends his hand to me. I take his hand and walk out of the carriage as he responds, "that is the smell of dragons." "Power, daughter," our father corrects, "that's the smell of power." I make a face at the old man, brushing my nose, "Casterly Rock does not nearly smell half as bad as this." Jason snorts, releasing my hand. Before our father could chastise me for my crude remark, I head into the palace, eyeing the good looking guard on my way in, "ser." His eyes dart to me and nods promptly, "Lady Lannister." Jason eyes him darkly as he passes and speed up to my side. He grabs my arm and mutters, "control yourself, sister." I look up to my brother, raising my nose, "no."

Dose 1

"Has my father sent for our tailor yet?" I ask my handmaiden as I take a sip of my second cup of tea.

"No, my lady," she says, "but Lord Jason saw me a few days ago and told me to advise you to commission the tailors here at-"

"And I told you to tell my dim-witted brother that the fashion in this side of the realm is stiff and itchy," I quip, placing my cup down on my saucer, "the very color in my face is draining at the idea of wearing leathery skins all day."

"Of course, my Lady," she says, nodding, "I will repeat your words more clearly next time."

"Lady Lannister," a deep voice calls.

I turn to whom spoke and find the good looking kingsguard, "Ser Arthur."

"The prince has urgently summoned you to the ward."

I frown, "why is he in the ward?" and not at the grave?

He does not reply to my question, "Prince Daemon has tasked me to escort you there at once."

I hum, placing my tea cup and saucer on the table, "as you can see, you interrupted me while I am preoccupied."

"Apologies, my lady," he nods, "but the prince insists on your presence."

I sigh, and stand, "fine," walking over to him, "you must make me a brew of hot tea in return, Arthur," I narrow my eyes, "or do your skills extend only to stabbing people?"

Arthur purses his lips, "if my lady insists, I will make the best tea I can."

I nod and motion vaguely, "escort me then."

The moment we reach the ward, I hear Daemon's crass voice muttering what could only be curse words in High Valyrian, not that I could care in the least.

I find Daemon lying lazily on a cot, delirious with laughter. I do not even hold back an eyeroll at the sight of him. I knew I should have added more arsenic.

"Maester Tut," I turn to the man standing beside the prince's bed, "to what do I owe this displeasure of being summoned during tea time?"

"Fucking whore," Daemon mutters under his breath.

I raise my brows at him and tilt my head, "careful, prince," I link my hands together, "you are speaking about your future wife."

"I would rather die than be married to you."

I beam and release a laugh, "an exciting proposition."

The maester clears his throat uncomfortably, "Lady Lannister."

"Maester Tut," I repeat, turning to him with a pressed smile.

"The prince has been poisoned," he says, turning over to the said man. He then picks up a box and shows it to me. I look down at the box of chocolates and scoff out a chuckle. Idiots.

"Are you insinuating that these chocolates I sent to my betrothed are poisoned?"

Daemon breaks into another string of laughter.

I look at the maester with an expectant look. He does not speak a word. I roll my eyes, picking one chocolate in my fingers, "and if I eat all of this in front of you, this will prove my innocence?"

They do not get to respond as I take all remaining eight chocolate balls into my mouth. I chew and hum at the bittersweet taste that melts in my mouth, "perhaps the prince simply is not used to such refined delicacies."

He begins his rant in High Valyrian again and the maester is visibly disturbed by his words.

I sigh, ignoring him, "what do you wish that I do, maester? Shall I inspect all the food he's eaten? Interrogate the cooks?" I continue to melt the sweets in my mouth, "clearly I must do something to find whomever would do such a thing to my beloved prince."

Daemon manages to finally sit from where he laid and looks up at me in disdain, "you conniving wench of a-"

"But then again," I give a twisted expression, "perhaps it is your own bitter words that have poisoned you, Daemon."

He jolts up to his feet, but he is seemingly too light headed to keep still. I look up at him in disgust as he topples like a tower about to crumble. I step back until I unknowingly bump into Arthur. I turn to him and hum, "oh, you're still here?"

"My prince, calm yourself," the maester speaks, attempting to push Daemon down.

He shoves him off, silver hair flying at the harsh movement, "you want to play dirty, let's play dirty."

I raise my upper lip, "you're the only one between us that has poor hygiene."

Arthur coughs at the sound of that, pressing his lips tightly after.

"If this grave and preposterous accusation is now over," I quickly curtsy, "I will have my leave now." I turn to Arthur, "I expect a fresh kettle of tea most promptly."

Arthur turns to me and nods, "of course my lady."

Dose 2

"Finally," I call the moment the unfashionable tailor walks in. I stand from settee I was sat and walk over to the old maiden, "measure me first. I cannot bear the sound of that dragon's breathing."

The said dragon breathes heavier as he lets out a dry scoff. Daemon then shifts from his armchair, watching as I make a beeline to tailor. I raise my hands to my side and watch as the woman unpacks her things.

She raises her eyes to me as she pulls out objects from her satchel, "my lady. I must insist on measuring you without your dress."

I give her an annoyed look, and huff as I drop my arms, "this is why I insisted on my tailor from Casterly Rock."

The tailor does not have the opportunity to speak as I turn to the bored looking man, who was counting the tiles on the ceiling, "you."

Daemon does not look.

"Betrothed," I growl in annoyance, turning my back to him, gathering my hair up, "unlace my dress."

I finally catch Daemon's attention with those words, it seems, as he quips a quick, "what?"

I roll my eyes, "are you dumb and deaf?" I shoot him a glare, "unlace my dress, I said!" I drop my yellow locks and cross my arms, turning to him, "or are you terrified to do so because of your lack of experience?"

"My lady, I can-"

Daemon marching over to me cuts the tailor off. I give him an annoyed look as he makes his way to me. He roughly grabs my shoulders and spins me back, throwing my hair over to the front with no regard.

"You rugged oaf!" I whine, gathering my blonde curls with care, "my handmaiden worked hard to fix my hair."

"I don't give a fuck," he replies as he rips at my laces with no regard.

I whine at his actions and elbow him in anger, hitting him square in the jaw. He grunts then scoffs. He rips at my arm that hit him, pulling it tightly behind me in a painful manner.

"Daemon!" I whine anguish, "you expect to get my out of my dress with my arm coiled back?!"

"You started it," he seethes.

I laugh loudly, "as petty as a child!"

He does not release me.

I then stomp back harshly, successfully hitting his foot.

He lets out a pained yelp and releases me with much force that I shoot over to the tailor, crashing onto her with my teeth and skull.

"Fuck," I pull away from her, "my apologies," I whine, helping her straighten up.

Daemon scoffs once more, still groaning from the pain in his foot, "I didn't know you could apologize."

I snap my gaze over to him and jeer, "and you will never know what it feels to hear one from me!" I turn back to the tailor and pull back, "I've changed my mind."

I point to Daemon, "do him first," I then contort my hands behind me, "I will undo my laces myself."

"Good luck with that," Daemon scoffs again, undoing his belt, easily slipping out of his tunic.

I roll my eyes at the sight of him ripping off his inner shirt. He does not look at me when he speaks, "try not to enjoy yourself so much."

A few moments later, I manage to struggle out my dress. The entire action has left me breathless and sweaty, that I decide to step out of my underdress as well.

"Step aside," I command.

"My lady!" the tailor exclaims upon seeing my nudity.

I shove Daemon away by my hips and raise my hands the way I did a while ago, "what?" I peer down at the woman, "I am out of my dress, am I not?"

Daemon was about to bark out insults but ceases at the sight of me.

I look over to him and raise my brows, "wipe the dribble off your chin," I mutter, rolling my eyes at Daemon's unabashed gaze upon my body.

The tailor his hesitant to even approach me, as she was far concerned about the prince' downturned gaze

"He is to be my husband," I mutter, "matters not if he sees me like this. And you are my tailor. Attend to your duties."

She presses her lips tightly and bows, beginning to measure me.

Dose 3

A loud and angry voice calls my name out from outside my chambers. I knew well who was tasteless enough to make such ruckus in this late hour of night. Soon enough, my older brother bursts in, heaving in rage, leaving the doors wide open upon his entrance.

Neither my handmaiden, who was combing my hair, nor I, that was lathering oils on my hand, flinch. I turn to my sibling from the reflection of my vanity mirror, "brother."

"You stripped in front of him?!" Jason sneers as he walks over to where I was sat. I uninterestedly examine my nails as he continues, "have you finally gone mad?"

"Does it matter?" I quip, turning to my other hand, "our marriage is set in ten days, and he would have seen me naked soon enough."

I finally turn to my brother, "unless..."

He raises a finger at my words, "enough of your schemes."

"Hmm," I wave my handmaiden away.

She curtsies and leaves both of us to argue with ourselves.

"You've grown soft, Jason," I mutter, "matters not. I've decided to take things into my own hands anyway."

"You do understand what it means for our houses to align," he growls in annoyance, "you are inching closer and closer to the edge of everyone's patience with your antics."

I roll my eyes, "if your cunt's so thirsty for power, marry him yourself."

Jason scoffs in disbelief.

I stand from my chair and turn to him, crossing my arms, "oh, pardon me. You supposedly have balls."

Jason points a finger to him as he steps nearer, "if I hear another word about your schemes, I will-"

"Kill me?" I finish for him, reeling back at the smell of his breath. I waft my hands in front of me, "what would father say about you killing his favorite child?" I narrow my eyes at him, "sounds to me like a one way road to disinheritance."

"He would not," Jason drawls.

I shrug, "perhaps you should try to find out yourself."

Before he could speak another word, I push him towards the door, "leave me now." I manage to get him across the room, "you may be my brother but it is no less impertinent to witness me in my sleepwear."

"Ha," he laughs loudly, "yet you so eager flaunted your naked mound to the-"

"Very good!" I call, upon seeing Arthur who was making his way down the hall, "you there," I raise my hand, beckoning the knight, "escort my ill-tempered brother to his horse," I give one final push to the man, nearly sending him to his knees.

I sigh as Arthur makes his way over, then adding, "or kill him."

Jason shoots me a dirty glare, to which I smirk, "matters not to me."

Upon seeing my attire, Arthur turns away and Jason instinctively blocks his line of sight. I roll my eyes and head back in my chamber, "boys," I wave off before closing my door.

I suppose it was too good to be true that I would get a good night's sleep.

Never one that was a deep sleeper, my eyes flutter open at the vague sound of shuffling.

The next thing I know, I am faced with a blade to my neck before I could even sit up from bed.

Daemon is looking down at me, dripping in mud and blood all over my bed.

I make a revolted sound and suddenly felt ungrateful for the moonlight streaking in the room that revealed the grotesque figure in front of me, "you are true to your love of filth, Targaryen."

He throws a sopping rag to my face and I squeal at the contact.

"Be quiet, you overconfident bitch," Daemon hisses, pressing his blade nearer. I turn to him with grit teeth as I feel the prick of his weapon on my skin. His eyes dart to the rag that was on my fucking face, "that's your sigil, is it not?"

I hum loudly, "wow, I can fucking tell with it blocking my eye and you choking me with Dark Sister."

He scoffs, "nice of you to know the name of your executioner," he says pulling his sword away.

I immediately sit up and swat the disgusting thing off my cheek. I groan at the sight of my ruined sheets because of the grimy prince. I breathily groan, "these were just changed this morning, you pig!"

"Mm," he sits down next to me, with absolute no regard for my legs. I pull away underneath him as he then rolls around my blankets, making my jaw slack in utter mortification. Once he is on his side, facing me, he adds, "I'm sure they can change them again."

"GUAR-" my scream is halted by Daemon's tight grip on my neck. His hands are so unforgiving against me that I cannot even ripe them off.

He crawls closer and presses against me. The feel of his mucky attire is revolting.

Daemon hisses under his breath, "I am so sick of the sound of your voice."

He releases me after my veins begin to bulge on my throat. I heavily try to catch my breath.

He grabs the rag I threw to the side and raises it, repeating, "the Lion of Lannister."

I turn to the mangled cloth, not even able to make out any sort of pattern, "you're fucking mad."

"You paid someone to ambush me," he groans, throwing the rag back to my face, "this was what was left of your dimwitted assassins."

I roughly wipe the muck off my face and seethe, "are you fucking dumb enough to believe me to be sloppy about killing you?"

Sick of his tantrum, I shove him off with my arms and legs then jump out of bed. Before he could sit up, I'm growling back, "and even if I did, so what?!"

Daemon scoffs, before jumping in front of me and grabbing my arms. He shoves me against the wall with a thud and his one knee is seals itself between the space between my legs. I whine at the contact as he growls, "then that would be treason," he presses his knee closer to my groin the same way his hand force me harder onto the wall, "punishable by death."

"So fucking kill me!" I crane my neck up to him that our noses touch, "if your basis is truly justified by that disgusting piece of cloth, then do not hesitate," I wrangle against him but it is futile. He is too strong that I cannot even manage an inch of motion.

"You think you're the only one who hates this agreement, you spineless snake?" I grit my teeth as I bubble into angry laughter, "you are right to be paranoid about me."

He clenches his jaw and leans down, whispering like a sacred promise, "I will destroy you."

"Oh, my dear," I faux coo, "not unless I destroy you first."

Dose 4

"What insolence will I behold today, Daemon?" I mutter in annoyance as make my way to the dragon pit.

All at once, a foul smell bombards my nostrils, a shriek pierces my ears, and my eyes grow wide at the sight of a beaten man before me.

It takes a moment for me to realize who it was, "is that... Arthur?"

Daemon, who is standing next to the knelt man, places his hands behind his back, "a pity that you do not recognize your lover in such circumstance."

"And who is my lover?" I question, walking over to him, ignoring the clicking sounds his dragon was making from behind, "you?"

Daemon scoffs. His dragon joins him with a whine. As much as the sight of a massive carnivore makes my stomach swirl in agitation, I do well to mask it as the beasts rider makes me coil in disgust.

"I would rather fuck a horse than have anyone think that you were my lover."

I click my tongue, "poor mare."

Once I am before them, I look down to Arthur's broken nose and busted lip, actually feeling bad.

Daemon notices this and says, "I heard rumors that spoke of a guard lingering in your quarters at night," he turns to Arthur and kicks him to the side. It seems as though he has no more strength to even move.

"After a quick investigation, I caught the culprit and brought him here to answer to his perverted crimes."

I turn from Arthur to Daemon, who had an evil glint in his eyes, "then you should do this to yourself, considering you did not even linger in my chambers but invited yourself inside and assaulted me."

He steps forward chuckling dryly, "pardon me for not fucking you like your whore over there," he motions to his side with his head.

I scoff and shake my head. I cross my arms once he presses near me, "you think those rumors are true?"

Daemon tilts his head, "he's confessed every word to me."

"Then he's a fucking liar and thus deserves to be punished," I quip, unfolding my arms. I step towards Daemon, eliminating the space between us that our chests are touching, "but I doubt he confessed. It's more accurate that you're a shit-faced liar because that man did not touch me."

Daemon throws his head back as he chuckles, "how treacherous it is to be in love," he looks at me, "you would do anything to save him."

I raise my brow and scoff in amusement, "oh," I place a finger to my lips, "you think I'm defending him?" I bonce the same finger on his nose and pull away, "I don't care if you kill him," I walk backwards as I motion with my hands, "I'm only telling you the truth, because aren't you a prince?"

Daemon's face tenses as he watches me walk off.

I laugh at him, "aren't you supposed to stand for justice?" I hum looking away, "but then again the likes of you wouldn't even know what that means."

I still at the sound Arthur's groan. I sigh at the sight of him and turn back to Daemon, "maybe I should have fucked him once," without taking moon tea.

I turn my back to him and walk out of the dragon pit, "maybe then I'd sire a child that wasn't so fucking ugly."

I barely even hear the command as there is a great heat and a loud gust of fire, followed by the smell of burning flesh.

Dose 5

"Might I request a dance from the lady of the hour?" another lord asks before I could even separate from my current partner.

I smile at the man as I catch my breath, "of course."

I take his hand as the stranger I've only just laid my eyes upon now leads me off to the dance floor. We begin to glide to the center of the room and wave our arms out in sync. He grabs my hand and pulls me close too him a little bit more than I wanted.

I push him by the chest and give him warning look. He brushes this off by starting a conversation, "I am bereft by the idea you will be wed to the prince tomorrow."

I roll my eyes at him, "you are one of the many lords who share the sentiment."

"Oh?" he seems to take my statement and actions humorously, "has each lord confessed the same sentiments to you while you danced?"

"Why wouldn't they," I retort dryly, "look at me. The only daughter of house Lannister, rich, powerful, and impossibly easy to the eyes."

He snorts, thinking my words were jests, "you know, men do not enjoy such pointed remarks."

I give him a look and decide the dance is over, "and why would I care about what men think?"

Without regard, I pull away from him and make my way to my seat. Before he could think about even grabbing my hand or anything, I push though the most congested area of the room and lose him quickly.

Once I arrive to my place at the table, I sit down and take a gulp of wine. With a sigh, I look out to the room, finding that husband-to-be was still nowhere to be found.

"Control yourself, sister," Jason scolds from his seat beside me, not even turning to me as he drinks wine himself.

I turn to him and feel my face pinch in annoyance, "have you not noticed the more you tell me this, the more disinclined I am to do so?"

Jason sighs, giving me a look, "still, I hope you are capable of reason."

"I am," I retort, "but not reason steered by idiots who listen to the head between their legs and not the one between their shoulders."

Before my brother could respond, a voice cuts him off.

"Lady Lannister."

I turn and find my lips pulling upward at the man who called my attention, "Lord Stark."

Cregan Stark smiles back at me as he walks over, "I was delighted to be receive invitation to your feast tonight."

I stand from my seat and meet him halfway, "were you now?" I cross my arms, "I say I do not enjoy your sentiment, my Lord."

He knits his brows, though his smirk does not quite fade, "and why is that, may I ask?"

I pout as I think, then cross my arms, "I would prefer it if you told me you were writhing in jealousy."

Jason, who happened to overhear as he was not too far, sighs as he pours himself another cup of wine.

Cregan chuckles, placing his hands behind him, "how honest of you."

I tilt my head, "I've been called many things by men, but it's only now that I've been called honest," I step closer muttering breathily, "I find that they much prefer the word crass."

He shakes his head, "I would not dare belittle the fearsome lioness."

"Mm," I hum, "who knew wolves could sound so pretty."

Much to my surprise, Cregan's face actually melts into a shade of scarlet.

I chuckle at him and raise a hand, "you are here to invite me to dance, are you not?"

He chuckles, "I suspected you were not in the mood for it, so I thought to invite you to converse while we drink."

"For you," I lean in, "I'm in the mood for whatever."

Cregan chuckles once more, shaking his head. He then does not leave my hand hanging any longer, "perhaps we can dance, drink, and discourse all at once."

I hum, breaking into a smile, "that's the smartest thing I've heard from a man tonight."

And so, the two of us grab a cup of wine and make our merry-way to the middle of the room to dance.

We laugh as we weave through the sea of partners over topics that were honestly not that funny to laugh the way we did. We wind our arms together as we twirl around like the rest of the dancing people.

The deep red wine splashes around because of our movements that turn less graceful with every sip; some of the liquid fell to the floor, some to our clothes, but neither of us care for the mess.

Cregan tells me about his escapades and his dire wolves. In truth, I could not care less for either, but the way he mumbles on about it, licking his lips, stained in a shade darker than it was, and how his eyes shine at the details he mention makes it the most conversation I have had yet.

I am too dazed and infatuated by the alcohol and his dark hair to remember how I ended up pressed close to him, no longer baring anything but his torso in my hands

Cregan guides me off him and twirls me around on beat to the music, making me giggle as I do.

By the time he stops spinning me with my arm raised over head, he pulls me back close. Though I am not, the room is still spinning.

I barely have the wits to stay on my feet and Cregan takes the opportunity to dip me on beat, one hand pressed firmly on my back, the other by the curve of my hip.

I blink rapidly, trying to straighten my blurry vision.

Once my vision is steady, I feel my breath hitch at the sight of Cregan's close face. I feel his hot breath. I take in the curve of his nose and thick lashes.

My hand darts up to his neck, my fingers dig into the roots of his hair.

He slowly lifts me up, and in that moment, it was just him and me.

Cregan's hands brush up to my sides. He breathlessly whispers, as if he had ran all the way from the north to my side, "I am writhing in jealousy."

My pulse begins to quicken.

I don't even manage to reply as suddenly I'm being ripped away from his grip. Cregan goes flying across floor, his large body hitting a few people along the way.

Having his senses slightly dulled my the wine, Cregan does not react as quickly as he could have. I only see blur of a man before I am roughly grabbed and thrown over a shoulder. I realize who the attacker is when people mutter the name of the prince as they part to the side.

I crane my neck and see Daemon's silver hair and leather attire. I groan in annoyance and bang at his back. He does not react to me whatsoever.

He manages to storm out of the hall and begins to rant the moment he does, "your Lannister cunt just cannot contain itself, can it?"

I begin to feel my insides swirl in the most uncomfortable of manners because of how I was folded on my stomach, "put me down, you prick!"

He scoffs and begins to exorcise me in High Valyrian. At least that's what it sounds like.

I feel a sourness rise from my throat.

I hold back a gag as I unceremoniously shake while the idiot goes up a flight of stairs, "Daemon, I'm gonna-"

"Shut up."

"No! I-" I don't finish my words as suddenly I release the contents of my stomach all over his back and the stairs behind him. The sound is wet and revolting and immediately alerts Daemon.

The moment he reaches the top, he curses as he sets me down before him, straining to look at his ruined back before turning to me, "what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

I look up at him as I lean into him to wipe my face on his chest. I grunt as I pull away the same time he does, "I tried to warn you."

He steps forward all of a sudden and grabs my face in his hand, "you would allow Cregan Stark to touch you during the feast for our marriage!"

I scowl at him taking an incredibly long time to process his words, "you're upset..." I blink slowly, "... about Stark?"

Daemon's intense gaze does a miniscule shift, as if he only now just realized what he, himself, said.

I raise my brows at him, feeling a cog in my mind shift. I hum, suddenly sobering up under his gaze. I lick the sourness off my lips and tilt my head, "he would be the best match for me, no?"

Daemon's eye barely twitches.

"My blonde hair would fair horribly against his dark locks," I chuckle, "my babes would look with bla-"

Daemon chokes me before I could finish my words. His jaw clenches before he mutters something in High Valyrian. I don't get to pull him off me since he shoves me off and walks away right after.

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