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kitkatkitzune · 2 months ago

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PETALS

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!reader

Summary: You love flowers and you love Jace, it’s a shame you’ll die because of them.

Warnings: Targcest, My version of hanakaki disease, ANGST, Implied suicide, Blood, Jace feeling guilty as fuck, Potentially OOC!Daemon, Inaccurate historical depictions, Inconsistencies in the tense it’s written in

Notes: This is NOT Baela hate!! I love her!!

Surprise, this is the show I ended up watching and I think I may write something for it every once in a while!

Word Count: 3.7k

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Aegon always felt that he had been cursed with strange sisters, his wife, Helaena, was obsessed with bugs and all other small insects. Then there was you, ever since you were a young girl you had been fascinated by nature. If you were missing the first place anyone would check was the gardens because more often than not that is where you were.

You’d hum to yourself, plucking away weeds, something your mother would shun you for.

"We have groundskeepers for a reason, Y/N,” she’d say, clicking her tongue.

You never listened though, and after a while she gave up on trying to stop you. At least Helaena hid her quirks inside the castle, you were always outside for anyone to see. You never knew why but you always felt connected to nature, even going as far to scold your guard when he’d stand on certain parts of the grass.

You loved Rhaenyra, you held a lot of respect for her even as a child. You were just a babe when Jace was born but when Luke was, even though you were still quite young, you brought her daisies from the gardens. Years later when Joffery would be born, you brought her baby’s breath.

Unlike Aemond and Aegon, Rhaenyra’s children’s brown hair never bothered you. In fact, you grew quite close with Lucerys and Jacaerys. Luke gained more respect towards nature each time he spoke with you and Jace, Jace found you fascinating. When he wasn’t training with a blade, he would find you in the gardens. He could listen to you ramble on for hours on end about the different flowers and their meanings.

“The daisies remind me of Luke…” you‘d hum, twirling a flower in your hands.

“And what of me, princess?”

You chew your lip, tilting your head in thought before abruptly standing up, “Come, I’ll show you!”

You dash further into the gardens with Jace chasing after you as you giggle. Eventually, you come to a stop in front of bunches of carnations.

“You remind me of the carnations… the red ones represent your strength and determination, the pink your loyalty, and the white your kindness…”

Jace hums, a smile appearing on his face, “They’re very pretty…”

You decide it best to not tell him that carnations often represent love.

“I’d also say that the hyacinths are similar to you… playful and bold… only the red ones though…”

He tilts his head, “And why only the red?”

The smile on your face wavers a bit, “The purple ones are an apology… to represent regret or guilt. They show grief.”

Everyone was gathered at Driftmark for Laela’s funeral. You had picked flowers, forget-me-nots, giving them to Baela and Rhaena as a way to show your sympathy to them. You didn’t miss the way Jace and Baela had their hands clasped together, and you could have sworn you felt your throat close up at the sight.

Later that night, you were shaken awake by Jace and the other children, alerting you that Vhagar had been stolen. When you all went to investigate, you found Aemond atop of Vhagar, landing on the ground. He swiftly dismounted the dragon, boasting about how it is now his. This enraged Baela, after all, Vhagar was her mothers dragon and the beast should have been her sisters to claim but Aemond had gone behind their backs before Rhaena was even granted a chance.

Chaos erupted as Aemond shoved Baela to the ground, you rushed to scold your brother but he only yelled at you, shoving you to the ground as well. You could feel the palms of your hand split open. Jace flipped his blade in his hand, ready to attack but it was flung away from him, landing near Luke.

It was sudden, Jace managed to toss some dirt into Aemonds face, temporality blinding him, and it gave Luke the chance to attack him with the blade. Your brother's ear piercing scream filled the space, blood dripping from his eye as the guards finally came running. All of you were gathered as one of the maesters tended to Aemond’s wound. And when your mother was informed that the eye would never heal - she was enraged.

Alicent demanded that they take one of Luke’s eyes and when the king refused, she tried to attack Rhaenyra, managing to slice open the woman’s hand. That night would be one of the last times you’d see the Velaryon boys for a long time, the family decided it was best that they travel to live on Dragonstone.

The day you said goodbye to Jace was the first day you coughed up a petal, through your tears, you could tell it was from a carnation.

You were able to keep it hidden for about six days before your mother found out. She noticed the blood on the sleeve of your gown and immediately questioned you about it. At first she had thought you had gotten your blood moon and had been messy about it but you quickly broke down and told her about the flowers.

She took you to the maesters instantly, watching as he examined and questioned you. She paced around the room anxiously, picking and biting at her nails just like she used to do as a child. A habit that she thought she managed to shake but clearly not.

The maester finally turned to look at Alicent, “Your grace… I have never seen such a thing… I’ve only ever read of it and have heard a few tales..”

“What is it?” Alicent asks quickly, making her way to you from across the room.

She brushes your hair from your face gently, and the maester sighs, “Rūklon ānogar… flower blood… it’s a disease, a curse… it’s a trick of nature… the princess is not loved by who she desires and nature is punishing her for it.”

Your mother looks horrified, “Who she desires? What… What kind of illness does that?! Will it go away with time?”

“I’m afraid not…the princess, she will die from this… I’ve read about a paste once before that could dull the symptoms, but there is no evidence of a long term solution… perhaps it is possible to survive off of the paste but I… we truly do not know.”

“A paste?!” Alicent raises her voice slightly, “My daughter is coughing up flowers, potentially dying and you offer me a mere paste that may save her, a paste that may not even work?!”

“Mother…” you pull at her sleeve, causing her attention to shift back to you. Her gaze softens at the sight of your blood stained lips.

“Yes, my dear?”

“It is… the only option,” you nudge your head towards the maester, “He would know…”

Alicent sighs at your words and turns her flaming gaze to the maester, “Get the paste, quickly.”

“Your grace,” he bows his head before scurrying off.

Your mother sits down on the bed beside you, pulling you to her arms, “It’s that…” she swallows harshly, deciding that it wouldn’t be fit for her to say bastard boy, “…Jacaerys, isn’t it?”

“Mother…” you mumble and she shushes you.

“No one will know of this, you are simply ill and that is why you are away, do you understand? No one can know of this, not even your brothers or sister, not even your father…”

“I understand…”

“Good,” she says then suddenly sighs, “This is my fault, I should have just let you marry the bas- boy. The boy.”

You shake your head a bit, “That… would not make him love me.”

And you were right, because off in her chambers, Helaena sits, stitching away at a quilt, mumbling to herself, “The flowers are wilting…”

Everyday, the paste would be mixed into your food and to the maesters credit, it did work. Although it made you feel near nothing, which was to be expected. You no longer sat smiling in the gardens, you would sit with a dull look on your face. Your mother tried to get you to act like your old self but it seemed impossible. But it didn’t really matter to her, as long as you were alive and preforming your duties as princess she was happy.

The point is, the paste worked for years with “minimal” issues, until he came back to King's Landing.

You were not there to greet them when they had arrived, he was a bit upset at the lack of your presence but assumed that since you were older now, you had more duties to tend to. Or perhaps your mother had forbidden you from greeting them. Jace guessed you would find him after but you never did, so he went looking for you but it seemed as though you were nowhere. The first time he would see you, would be at the large family dinner that the King wanted.

You were seated next to your grandsire, Otto and your brother, Aemond, staring at the table, praying the ground would swallow you whole. You hadn’t just been avoiding Jace either. You were avoiding the whole family, Lucerys, Rhaenyra, Baela, Rhaena, and Daemon. Baela and Rhaena were your friends at one point and Lucerys always looked up to you. Rhaenyra had been a role model for you and Daemon… well, he was Daemon.

Being here, with them, was painful. Almost as painful as the stems growing in your lungs. The paste was no longer working, that much was clear. Whether it had something to do with Jace’s sudden appearance or simply the disease fighting back, you had no clue.

“This is an occasion for celebration it seems…” your father announces, “My grandsons, Jace and Luke will marry their cousins Baela and Rhaena…”

The King continued on, but you were no longer listening, your gaze had snapped up from the table to focus on Jace and Baela. The way he looked at her and the way she looked at him. It was the same way you always looked at Jace, only he never returned that look. Your throat seemed to close up a bit and you had to fight away the urge to cough. You dug your nails into the handles or your chair, hoping to ground yourself in some way. Aemond, ever the perceptive one glances towards you, narrowing his eye, trying to read you but you ignore him.

It’s then that you can faintly hear Aegon's teasing voice as he leans over to whisper at Jace, “…You’ll finally get to lie with a woman… You do know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle? Where to put your cock and all that.”

“You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed.”

his betrothed.

You try to subtly clear your throat to relieve some of the pain but it is no use, you quickly grab your napkin and begin to cough into it, gaining the attention of everyone around the table. Rather reluctantly, Otto begins to pat at your back. Alicent begins to chew at her nails, quickly catching herself and holding her hands firmly in her lap.

“Are you all right, sister?” Aemond asks, taking a sip of his wine, it was obvious in his tone that he held no real concern for you and was only asking out of duty.

Carefully, you pull the cloth from your mouth, holding it tightly in your lap, “Yes…” you breathe out, relieved that you still have your voice.

The room has gone silent now and Daemon glances between Alicent and you as though he’s piecing a puzzle together. During the silence, Luke realizes this is the first time you’ve spoken since they’ve arrived, your voice sounds different, more matured and older… but most of all, scared.

“The flowers are wilting…” Helaena mumbles softly.

Neither Jace nor Luke would be able to speak with you that night because the second King Viserys’ speech was over, your mother had a guard escort you back to your chambers, claiming that you were ill and not feeling well. This only raised Daemon’s suspicions.

When the King died and your brother was crowned, you made the decision to flee from King’s Landing with Rhaenys with only the clothing on your back. You knew it was a stupid decision and you knew that your condition would only worsen, especially now without the paste, especially if you were to be constantly around him. But it did not matter to you, you refused to be on the wrong side of the war, even if it meant you would die sooner rather than later.

You were able to hide your sickness for less than one moon before you were unable to any longer. You were just lucky it had not happened during one of the council meetings, you were sure you’d be accused of bringing some sort of the plague with you. None of the men on Rhaenyra’s council seemed to trust you, but that wasn’t saying much considering it hardly seemed like they trusted her.

It had happened in your private chambers while one of the servant girls, Beth, was helping you out of your day clothing and into a night dress. You began to cough, unable to stop it as Beth fawned all over you, trying to help in any way. Your airway became even more restricted as you coughed, blood and petals falling to the ground in front of you when you could no longer stand. Then finally, you coughed up an entire carnation, stem and all.

The poor serving girl began to scream, rushing out into the hallway to yell for help. It was pure coincidence that Jace and Baela had been walking down the hall. Baela and the serving girl ran to find Rhaenyra, Daemon and a maester while Jace attempted to help you from the ground. But the second his hands touch your skin, it felt as though you’d been pricked by thorns. You shoved him from you, sinking further to the floor.

“Do not touch me…” you manage to hiss out.

“Y/N—“ Jace tries once more but you push his hands away, crawling across the floor to your bed.

Baela and Beth returned just as you began to pull yourself to your bed, all while begging Jace to not touch you. They were not alone when they returned, they had brought the Queen and King as well as the maester.

Jacaerys watches you with concern as Baela approaches him, placing a comforting hand on his arm which only makes you begin to cough more. Rhaenyra seems concerned that it is contagious and you could not blame her, perhaps she thought you were ill like your father.

But Daemon immediately silenced those thoughts when he picked up the flower from the ground, spinning it in his fingers, admiring the blood that coated his fingers.

“Rūklon ānogar,” he breathes out.

Everyone looks to him, while he still keeps his gaze focused on you, watching as you tense up at the mention of the fatal disease.

“Flower blood…” he clarifies.

“Rūklon ānogar? Flower blood?” Rhaenyra echoes, “That’s impossible, it’s not real.”

“Clearly it is…” you mumble quietly, allowing your head to fall back against the headboard.

“How long…?” Rhaenyra begins to ask but is cut off by her husband.

“Since before she came to Dragonstone, I suspect much long before.”

You nod, ”Years…”

Jace’s eyes narrow, a bit of anger flaring within him, “You came here, knowing of your illness?!”

“Relax,” Daemon says, “She’s not contagious… she is going to die though. Terribly. Painfully.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” you glare at him.

“My question is how are you still alive if it’s been years,” Daemon takes a step forward, finally dropping the flower in his hand, “you should be dead.”

“A paste…”

“A paste?” he asks, almost mockingly.

It is then that the maester cuts in, “It was believed that a paste could… prevent symptoms…delay death…”

“Then get her the paste,” Baela cuts in.

Oh how you wished you could hate Baela, it would be so much easier if she was awful but she wasn’t. And you knew none of this was her fault, just as none of it was Jace’s.

“It is not that simple, my lady,” the maester begins, “The ingredients needed for such a thing are very hard to come by… we do not have such things here.”

“Then we try King’s Landing,” Jace offers, causing Daemon to scoff.

You shake your head, “No… they wouldn’t.”

“Your mother is there! Your brothers! Your family!” Jace argues.

“They’re no family of mine!” you manage to shout, immediately doubling over on yourself, coughing.

Rhaenyra begins to pat at your back, the feeling was much more comforting than when Otto had done it, “Sweet girl…” she mumbles quietly.

“Tell me,” she asks softly, offering you a goblet of water that Beth had gotten, “Why risk yourself? Why come here knowing we could not provide for you?”

“Because…” your voice cracks as you pull away from Rhaenyra, “I refuse to die on the wrong side of this war… just as I refuse to die in this bed…”

You begin to try and force yourself out of the bed but quickly realize that you are much weaker than you were just moments before. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying again but once again, you fail.

Suddenly, you feel a hand on your back and another hooking under your knees. When you open your eyes you realize you’re being held by Daemon, you allow your head to fall against his chest as he begins to carry you out of the room, already knowing where it is you wish to go.

You can’t help but overhear the hushed conversation between Baela, Rhaenyra, and Jace as they follow behind.

“What kind of sickness does this, your grace?” Baela asks quietly.

“A cruel one,” Rhaenyra answers with a grim look on her face.

Jace frowns, “I don’t understand, flowers? Why? What causes such a thing?”

Finally, Rhaenyra sighs, “Love, my boy, love.”

“Love causes that?” Baela asks, astounded.

“The unrequited kind…”

“Unrequited love? Who would be fool enough to not love Y/N?” Jace asks, making Rhaenyra shake her head.

“I think you know.”

Daemon sets you down carefully in the gardens before stepping away just as the others make their way into the gardens. Jace seems to be storming towards you, determined to speak with you before your inevitable death. Daemon makes a swift exit, taking Rhaenyra and Baela with him, allowing the two of you a moment to talk.

You choose to ignore Jace, just as you had done before, running your hand along one of the beautiful flowers that only grows on Dragonstone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jace asks.

You hum, “It wouldn’t have mattered.”

“I, yes, it would’ve! I- I could have loved you… it did not have to come to this.”

You sigh, pulling your hand away from the plant, turning to face him, you bring your hand up to his cheek, once again feeling as though thorns are going through your skin, “You can not make yourself love, Jace.”

“But I do love you, I do… I…”

You smile, softly, “Just not as I love you.”

“I am so sorry, Y/N…”

“There is nothing to be sorry for, Jacaerys, this is not your fault.”

He shoves your hand from his face, tears glimmering in his eyes, “How can you say that?! You should be cursing me! You will die, you understand that right?! You should hate me!”

“I could never hate you.”

He begins to pace, running his hands through his hair, making you sigh, “Jace, it is okay, really.”

“You shouldn’t be saying that, no, no, I should be saying that to you! I should be the one—“

“I accepted this a long time ago, and I need you to listen to me… please,” you pat the ground next to you and Jace sits down after hovering for a moment, “I am not a dragon rider Jace, I do not want a dragon's funeral… I want… I want to be buried somewhere like here, in the gardens, let my body be the nutrients needed for the flowers to bloom.”

Jace only stares at you, committing every aspect of your face to his memory. Because there were no portraits of ‘Y/N Targaryen’ on Dragonstone, and it was too late for one to be made. The only portraits of you resided in King’s Landing but if he knew Aemond, he knew that the one-eyed man would have already destroyed them all, removing you from history. This would be the last time he’d see you, and he knew that over time his memory would fade until you were just a name without a face.

You call his name, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Okay,” he says, shaking, “I will… make sure of it.”

The two of you sat in silence in the gardens until you asked to say your goodbyes to everyone else before finally you asking to be alone. It was only then that you began to play with the dagger you had stolen from Daemon while he had been carrying you.

And in his and Rhaenyra’s shared chambers, Daemon looks in the mirror at the empty slot on his belt where his dagger once was. He would have panicked, but fortunately he knew exactly where the weapon was and who held it.

It was no surprise to anyone when they found your body in the gardens the next morning. What was surprising was Prince Jacaerys expressing your desire to not have a dragon rider's funeral. So it was then settled, you would be buried where you had died.

Jace brought you flowers, placing them on top of the fresh soil. Bunches of purple hyacinths, something that his family would not understand but it did not matter because you would and so would he.

Even dead, the flowers in your lungs bloomed, they ripped through your organs, cracking through your bones until finally piercing through your skin into the dirt. Eventually sprouting into a beautiful bunch of carnations.

Even in death you still loved the flowers. Even in death you still loved him.

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maidragoste · 2 years ago

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The Decision

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, minor Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

Again another AU with the reader of The Sea Dragon, The Clubfoot and The Green Queen (you don't need to read it to understand this one shot because this story starts LONG BEFORE the canon of that universe).

Summary: When King Viserys announces that he plans to marry you, you make a decision to avoid becoming the king's wife.

Now you can read this bonus!

TW: This is NSFW (if you don't like it you can read only the Rhaenyra and Harwin parts)

I was dying to share this with all of you so I hope you like it!

If you want to read more of this Reader and Daemon, don't hesitate to let me know in the comments or in my inbox 🤭

REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated 🥰🥰💖💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Also this is my first smut so sorry if it's weird to read.

You felt your heart hammering as you waited for the king to make his announcement. Your stomach wouldn't stop spinning and you have no idea how you still hadn't vomited up what you had for breakfast.

With every passing second you have to keep yourself from running out of the council chambers. You couldn't stop looking at your father, a part of you wanted to take his hand and ask him to get you out of here but you didn't trust him anymore. You were in this situation because of him. You always knew that your father is a proud and ambitious man but you never thought that his ambition would be greater than his love for you. If your father really loved you he wouldn't have sent you to the king's chambers. He wouldn't have made you start wearing dresses that showed more skin for your visits with him. Gods, you wanted to hit your father so badly, you wanted to wipe the smile off his face because both he and you knew what Viserys was going to announce. Everyone knew it, you noticed that Otto Hightower was trying to hide his annoyance from everyone, the only one who seemed unaware of the tension in the room was Rhaenyra.

“I have decided to take a new wife,” the king began and you noticed how he and Rhaenyra exchanged a look. You were surprised to see your cousin nod as if she was permitting him to move on. Did Rhaenyra know? Did she approve of this? “I intend to get married,” he continued, this time looking at you and your father. You forced a smile as you dug your nails into your palms, feeling helpless for being in this situation “with Lady Y/N Velaryon before spring.”

Your eyes met Rhaenyra's purple ones. There was none of the love or fun you usually saw. Now she was looking at you with a mixture of pain and fury. The pain in your stomach got worse. Nyra had never looked at you like that. This shouldn't be happening.

It was obvious that she didn't know that her father was planning to marry you. You wanted to scream, you wanted to hug her and tell her that this wasn't what you wanted, that you weren't trying to steal her mother's place, that you would never do anything to hurt her.

"Rhaenyra" the king called her but the princess left the chambers anyway. You couldn't take this anymore so you went after her, ignoring your father's calls.

You followed the princess. You could feel the fabric of your dress sticking together due to perspiration, you didn't know if it was because of your nerves or because you were practically almost running after Rhaenyra. It was uncomfortable but right now you didn't care. You needed to clear things up with her. You couldn't stand that she hated you.

"Nyra" you called when she finally stopped. You two were in the gardens, in front of the heart tree. Where more than once you had Rhaenyra lay with her head in your lap while you sang her any song she wanted. Where you two used to stay out in the sun complaining about the septa's lessons while you combed her hair. This tree has so many good memories and now you fear there will be no more.

"How could you?!" she yelled at you furiously. She couldn't believe how you had been by her side, comforting her, accompanying her in her grief, remembering the stories the both shared with her mother so that later you went behind her back to conquer her father. When her father told her that he needed to take another wife she thought it would be Laena Velaryon. Not from you. Never from you. You were supposed to be hers.

"Please, Nyra, don't hate me" you begged and grabbed her hands desperately, pulling her closer to you "I swear I didn't want this but my father" you shook your head and forced yourself to continue talking trying to ignore the knot in your throat "I'll find a way to fix this, I promise" you kissed her hands.

The princess studied you for a few minutes. She needed to check that you weren't faking this just to avoid her anger. Your eyes seemed to be glazed over from the tears you were holding back and your hands clung to her desperately.

“I believe you,” she finally said and you sighed in relief.

"Thank you", you said with a shaking voice

This time it was Rhaenyra who kissed your hands and rested her forehead against yours. You closed your eyes feeling at peace for a moment knowing that she didn't hate you.

"I won't marry your father, Nyra. I promise."

If it weren't for the fact that she was now the heir to the throne, Rhaenyra would have told you that you would run away with her, that the two of you would go together on your dragons and travel the world together, and that you didn't need a husband, that if you wanted her, she would take you as a wife. But now she had obligations, she couldn't abandon everything for you even if her heart screamed for her to do so.

After clearing things up with Rhaenyra you went to your chambers. Of course, your father was waiting for you, he scolded you for your abrupt departure but he left you alone once you told him that you had managed to calm the princess's annoyance. Being alone you decided to put your plan into action, first you took a bath with the purpose of relaxing and getting rid of any trace of nerves you had before, then you put on one of your simplest dresses and placed a hooded cape on top to hide your hair. You were leaving the castle and you didn't need anyone to follow you.

You successfully slipped away and headed out into the streets in search of Harwin. You knew that today he had to stand guard on the streets of Flea Bottom. A girl in your position shouldn't be here but you didn't care. You needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

“Harwin” you called him when you finally found him.

“Lady Velaryon, you should not be here,” said the guard, gently hugging you by the shoulders and taking you to a corner further away from the people.

It felt bad to hear him call you in such a formal way when for weeks he had been calling you by your name or “sunshine”, the nickname he had given you. You remember like it was yesterday when you kissed him for the first time after he explained to you that the reason he called you that was because you brightened his days every time he saw you.

This sudden formality was like a slap in the face and he confirmed what you already feared.

“You know,” you declared sadly.

“My father told me,” he admitted, releasing you. You weren't surprised since Lyonel is on the council and had been present at this morning's meeting. You suspected that Harwin's father thought it would be best for him to find out from him rather than from someone else since you were sure that Lord Strong and your parents knew about the meetings between you and Harwin. You thought it was no secret that he was courting you, but apparently, not everyone knew because otherwise, Viserys would not have chosen you as his wife. Or maybe he knew but didn't care.

“This doesn't have to change what's between us,” you said as you stood on tiptoe to have his face closer to yours. “I don't want to marry the king. I want you” you whispered against his lips but without touching them. Harwin had to control himself from closing the small distance between you and kissing you. “Make me your wife,” you asked before capturing his lips with yours.

You froze when Harwin walked away from you.

“I can't,” he whispered and closed his eyes to avoid seeing the disappointment on your face.

“I thought you loved me” In your voice there was more anger than sadness but your body language was different, you found yourself hugging yourself trying to comfort yourself. You were disappointed.

“I do,” he stated firmly, opening his eyes so you could see that he spoke sincerely. “I love you. If it were any other man he would fight for you but…”

His silence told you everything. He loved you but it's not enough to face the king.

“You're a coward,” you spat and left the way you came.

You didn't really think Harwin was a coward but you were hurt by his rejection. You felt stupid to believe that whatever Harwin felt for you would be bigger than any coherent thought but you can't blame him after all any intelligent person would be afraid to go against the king's wishes and steal his fiancée…

But all was not lost, you knew someone well who was not afraid of Viserys and could help you. It was a desperate move and your parents would think you were an idiot for this but you refuse to be the king's wife. You had seen how as the years went by and with each pregnancy, Queen Aemma deteriorated. You didn't want the same thing.

You wrote to Daemon. You told him that the king wanted to marry you but that you were seeking to avoid this marriage and that you needed his help. You waited anxiously for his response while you had to feign excitement every time someone talked about your wedding preparations. Luckily it didn't take that long for a crow to arrive with the rogue prince's answer. There were no reassuring words in his letter, the only thing the scroll said was "Come to Dragonstone."

And that's what you did. Nobody suspected when the next day you went on the back of your dragon since everyone knew that there was not a day in which you did not disappear for a couple of hours to go flying with Nightwing.

"My prince, Lady Y/N Velaryon!" The guard announced your arrival before letting you enter the chambers where the prince was staying.

Daemon, who had seen you approach with Nightwing from the window, had his back turned but turned to look at you. He hasn't seen you in months. Your hair was longer and you seemed to have changed the way you dressed. The blue dress you were wearing seemed to have more cleavage, it wasn't anything scandalous enough for the court to talk about but it did draw attention.

"It's good to see you, Y/n" Daemon stated making you smile. You were sure that this was the first sincere smile you had given in days.

You waited for the guard to leave. Once you heard the sound of the door closing, you began to walk towards the prince without haste, trying to show as much confidence as possible. Normally you wouldn't be nervous around Daemon but you hadn't seen him in months and he was the only person who could help you. You didn't want to ruin this.

*I'm wondering the same. These months without you were boring "You weren't lying or trying to sugarcoat it to achieve your goal, it was simply the truth. Every time he leaves court you wish for his return.

"You still didn't come after me" Daemon held back his smile when he saw the surprise in your eyes.

He liked seeing that look in your eyes. Every time he brings you something new from his travels, every time he teaches you a new move in the training yard, every time he asks you for his favor in tournaments. How he had missed seeing you. He wouldn't tell you but he had missed you these past few months. So imagine his fury when after so long the first news he receives from you is that his brother plans to marry you. You are too much of a woman for Viserys. His brother wouldn't know what to do with you. You would spend the rest of your life bored. Daemon couldn't allow it.

"I didn't know you wanted that," you said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"I invited you to go with me on my next trip, didn't I?"

Before Queen Aemma's death, when you helped Daemon put on his armor for the tournament you complained about the lengthening of his travels. The prince's response was to invite you to go with him next time. You were so excited to accompany him on his trips that you didn't wait for the tournament to end to ask your parents for permission. But then Aemma died and you didn't dare leave Rhaenyra.

You laughed. “That wasn't a trip, Daemon. Viserys exiled you.”

"And now he will exile you" he mocked, making you irritated but you quickly forgot about your irritation when Daemon placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him, leaving your bodies pressed together. You should be uncomfortable with this but you're not. "You understand? Right? You know what you were asking for when you asked me for help?" He asked, studying your reaction. He needed to see that you really understood what you were about to do. This was your time to repent. But he didn't find uncertainty in your eyes if not desire, you looked at him with pure desire.

"I know," you responded, trying to ignore the flutter of emotion you felt at the intensity of the prince's gaze. You should be against doing this after all your reputation would be ruined but deep down you always wanted to have even a little bit of Daemon.

In reality, there was always a tension between the two of you. More than once you two ended your fights in the yard more irritated than you were before you started because after so much friction, touching, and sweat you both wanted to do something else that you couldn't. You didn't want to be the other woman and Daemon for once wanted to make things right with you. He hoped that one day Viserys would annul his marriage to Rhea Royce to take you as his wife. That day never came but that didn't matter anymore.

"You will take me as your second wife" While you spoke your eyes couldn't help but stop a couple of times on his lips.

Daemon tilted his head a little and gently brushed aside a strand of hair to whisper in your ear "I'll do it. If you want that" you shivered as you suddenly felt his breath on your neck. It doesn't take long for you to feel his warm lips against your skin. You unconsciously stretched your neck, leaving him free to continue spreading more kisses. With each kiss, you felt your body warmer. You can't help but wonder how his lips will feel just as good on another part of your body. “People will talk about us,” he warned, snapping you out of your fantasy.

You knew what Daemon was referring to, not only would it be a scandal if the king's fiancée married another but also if that other is Daemon Targaryen, the king's brother, and an already married man. People who don't understand his family's customs won't think your marriage is legitimate, and if you were to have children with him people would probably think of them as bastards. Also, the court could compare your marriage to one of Maegor Targaryen's many marriages. The kingdom would talk a lot about you two, even your family's name and respect could be damaged by this. Your father might never want to speak to you again in your life and your mother would be disappointed in you. You had thought about all this at night before receiving the prince's response. And yet you were determined to go ahead with this.

“Are you worried that the court will call you Second Maegor? Because I'm sorry to inform you but they already call you that” you said, managing to make Daemon laugh a little. You smiled when you heard him but your smile was soon replaced by a gasp as you felt his teeth biting into your neck.

“A wife shouldn't make fun of her husband,” he said making you roll your eyes, knowing that he wasn't serious and just wanted to mess with you. “If you marry me, this will not be just a marriage in name.”

You weren't an idiot. It wasn't enough for you to just marry Daemon. Viserys might still want to annul the marriage if he saw that you were a virgin but if it was known that Daemon had already had you then the council would tell the king that he should take another wife.

You walked away from him. “Are you afraid of taking me as your wife? You keep walking around instead of ordering them to start preparing everything for the ceremony. “The prince could see the challenge in your eyes and he loved it.” I'm not a little girl, Daemon. I know what I'm getting into by marrying you."

And those words were enough for Daemon to finally join his lips with yours. There was nothing soft about his kiss, not like Harwin's. This kiss was hungry, you felt like he was devouring your mouth but you weren't far behind either, taking him by the neck, pulling him closer to you. It seemed as if neither of you two could get enough of the other. Finally giving free rein to the desire the both felt for a long time. You felt his hands trying to untie the back of your dress so you walked away from him with heavy breathing.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you hummed, now placing your hands on his chest, hoping to keep a little more distance. “You can't have me until we're married,” you declared, looking at him mischievously.

“You're so fucking annoying” Daemon complained and tried to kiss you again but you pulled your face away with a teasing smile. "Good. But then you won't leave the room until I'm done with you,” he warned you and he gave you a little squeeze on your waist before leaving, determined to prepare everything in the shortest possible time.

Daemon thinks he'll never get tired of this. See how you move on his cock, how focused you look with every jump you take in search of your pleasure, how you open your mouth and let those sinful sounds escape when you finally find your sweet spot, and above all the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock.

Hearing Daemon's groan overwhelms you. It overwhelms you because, for the first time, you realize that you have power over him. It's too much to hear him say your name like you're a god while you're riding him. See how hungry he is for you, how he can't seem to get enough of you, how he can't go a minute without his mouth on you, without biting or sucking on your neck, without having his hands touching you. By now your body was covered in hickeys, marks, and bruises leaving the trace of your crime on display. You're sure that tomorrow when the maids came to help you dress they would be horrified to see the mark of Daemon's palms on your thighs after he held you for what seemed like hours while he devoured your cunt over and over again.

Your husband noticed that you were starting to get tired but you still didn't want to stop, not when you were already so close to cumming again but you were too proud to ask him for help.

“Let me take care of it,” he said, stopping to suck on one of your nipples.

He knows how stubborn you are so he didn't even give you a chance to refuse when he lifted you off his cock. You groan against his neck as he pushes you down onto his cock again. He begins to move you up and down as if you weighed nothing.

"Faster" you demanded with heavy breathing, feeling dissatisfied with the pace of his movements.

Daemon doesn't hesitate to follow your orders and makes you bounce faster. His grunts and moans do nothing but send heat to your core. You feel your legs tremble at the speed and depth of his thrusts. You want to have your share and leave your marks on your husband too but you can't focus as much time on biting or sucking on his neck when he's fucking you so good. You sob when you finally feel the knot in your stomach release and you cum on his cock.

Suddenly one of his hands leaves your waist and pulls your hair, stealing a gasp from you, making you stop hiding your face in his neck and thus trap your mouth again in a messy kiss.

"You take me so well," Daemon gasped against your lips, feeling your warm cunt not stop squeezing his cock.

The sound of skin slapping only increases the temperature of the room. Like the groans and gasps. Neither Daemon nor you were trying to be quiet, it was more like you were both competing to see who could make the other louder. You should be embarrassed and try to be quieter, that's what a good lady would do but you couldn't care less what people thought, not when you felt so good. And while you felt how Daemon filled your cunt with his seed a petty part of you couldn't help but think that you were hoping that this would reach Viserys' ears, that one of the servants would write to the king to inform him of the spectacle you and Daemon were putting on so that Viserys wouldn't want to have anything more to do with you.

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