#rhaenyra and alicent after she made her way back on dragonback

[paulawithsharks]

childhood companions having a little sleepover

[howdoesagrapewrites]

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: fem!reader, cisgender female reader (I'm sorry mascs and nbs, I'll make something for you later) incest/targcest implied for later, platonic and romantic yanderes, yandere EVERYONE x reader, here's a list of every character that will be featured (not all of them are romantic):Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhea Royce, Alicent Hightower, Otto Hightower, Viserys I Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Haelena Targaryen, Daeron Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Laena Velaryon, Laenor Velaryon

Notes: I go by a very strange mix of the series and the books, I haven't seen the series in a while so the timeline will most likely be a mess. I'd like this to be a series but I've been incredibly busy. Extra: at first I thought about making reader Mysaria's daughter, but this is a self insert, so it's best that you look however you like, leaving the mother anonymous. The only physical reference I'll make will be reader's silver hair

>After Rhaenyra was declared the heir of the iron throne, Daemon, insulted, flew away with his mistress, the white worm, who he would conceive a child with, even asking for a dragon egg for the prince or princess to come

>However, Viserys demanded him to go back to his home and wife, he sent Mysaria off to lys, where the stress of a storm in the trip back made her lose the baby

>Daemon never fully forgave his brother, and this left him less than eager to have another child anytime soon

>So imagine his surprise, when 7 years later, there's a rumour spreading in flea bottom like wildfire, about a girl carrying Daemon's bastard

>Many women had claimed to carry a royal child before, thinking this could give them any sort of prize, so Daemon didn't think much of it at first, but when he heard her name, he recognized her as one of his previous "favorites" who disappeared without a trace months ago

>She was said to have taken residence in Essos, and Daemon went on dragonback to find her. She was from the free cities, five years older than Daemon, and a heart as cold as a northern winter, or so they said. She was not expecting Daemon, running away to have the child in peace

>"They said I was too far along when I found out, moon tea would've only harmed me. Besides, it was lucrative in its own way" said the woman. Daemon did little to suppress the disgust on his face when thinking about her being defiled by other men while carrying his dragonseed babe

>She wanted no part in the baby's life, and Daemon, in his particular fashion, informed her he'd take the youngling as soon as it's out of her, may even pay her a few coins to make sure she won't do much as think about keeping it

>A few months passed, and he returned to king's landing with a babe in arms. Demanding an egg in honor of the birth of princess Y/N Targaryen

>This egg would later hatch into the dragon Dagahrion, the princess' bound dragon

>The court was a hot mess, according to Otto, he wouldn't be surprised if the young creature lost its left ear because of all the gossip and ill-speaking of her, just like her father. This was a scandal, considering he was still married to Rhea Royce, who he gravely dishonored time and time again, Daemon was always shameless, but this was crossing a limit, even for him, to call his bastard a princess while refusing to lay with his own rightful wife, disgraceful

>Daemon tried to use you as yet another attempt to get his brother to annul his marriage to "the bronze bitch", but even when he failed, he did everything in his power to legitimize his daughter

>Despite everyone on the council telling Viserys how foolish it'd be to do it, making enemies out of the Royce house, further insulting Rhea, and putting a whoreborn on the line of succession (no matter how far from the throne), all it took was a little yawn and the bright twinkle of your eyes to make him melt, he is fully committed to his role of uncle, even as a doting grandfather, considering his father passed long before her birth

>Viserys sent Daemon back to the Vale, saying he should do his best to give lady Rhea an heir, to make up for the slip and avoid causing the Targaryen house any more trouble. Viserys, for totally not selfish reasons wanted to keep the princess in KL, saying Rhea should not be made to raise his bastard

>Daemon said he'd rather be exiled again than to leave his daughter in Hightower hands to go try to fuck his wife. Viserys was greatly offended by the implication that the Hightowers truly ruled and schemed while he reigned

>To his outmost displeasure, he finally had to let his niece go to the Vale with her father

>Rhea loved you as soon as she set eyes on you, completely separating you from your father's actions, and seeing you as a pure angel in this horrible situation

>But it was so difficult with Daemon around, she just wanted to whisk you away and love you, she'd pray to the mother to be able to breastfeed you, crying when she heard you wail in frustration of your hunger, since it took several wet nurses to get you to drink milk

>But Daemon was always around to remind her you were not hers, that he considered her lowly, not worthy of you. He'd correct you when you learning to speak, and dared to refer to her as "mama"

>It was said the ground of the vale would shake upon them yelling when fighting over you

>But this joy to Rhea was short lived, as Daemon sent you to KL when he had to fight in the war of the stepstones, saying the "nest of vipers" was more deserving of you than she was. When you were three, your step mother had an accident while hawking, many said Daemon orderded for her to be poisoned when she was bed bound, others said the distress of your parting made her lose skill

>It was Viserys greatest pleasure when you were left at his care, his adorable baby niece was now an infant, and somehow you were even more charming, being able to speak, sing and walk

>To no one's surprise, Viserys' reaction was not generalized, with many not being keen on having a bastard running around the castle playing with the princes, by that point, Aegon was 8, Haelena was 7, Aemond was 5, and Daeron was 1, and almost all of them could see people treated you differently

>Rhaenyra was welcoming, baby Lucerys had just been born, and she was delighted to have a girl to spoil, it only helped that Jacaerys loved you as well, and would often fight his uncles for the chance to be with you

>Alicent in particular was not pleased with your presence, thinking you were an uncomfortable conversation to have with her children, especially resentful of the fact her youngest son would be attached at the hip with you

>To Otto, you were an annoyance, a living proof of Daemon's pure disregard for the norms, however, he could rest at night knowing you were ninth in the line of succession, and a girl, who would someday marry a son of a minor house and be too busy bearing children to present a claim to the iron throne

>Even though the Hightowers were tougher than the king, they did eventually succumb to your spell, and became just as enamoured with you as everyone else, in their minds, you were almost a product of spontaneous generation, completely ignoring your shameful father and prostitute mother

>Your arrival also caused the birth of Lucerys (who was again, born with a striking resemblance of Harwin Strong, just like his older brother) to be less gossiped about, after all, your case was much more interesting

>Some people in court starting referring to you as "The princess of flea bottom", this title costed quite a few tongues around the castle, ordered by Viserys, happily approved by Otto

>The Hightower hand was careful not to show too much affection to you, as it was improper and he knew how zealous was Viserys when it came to you

>Aegon was "already too old to be playing" in his words, and kept his distance from you, you reminded him to much of his sticky handed little brothers

>But as if you knew, you chased him around and praised him for his knightly demeanor (in your eyes) and how he's just like the heroes in Viserys' stories. It was not a long time before Aegon now appointed himself as your guard, watching like a hawk over his brothers and nephews when he thought they were being too rough on you

>Haelena loves you from the start, sees you as a little doll, she loves showing you her bugs, you're the only one who listens to her attentively

>Jacaerys and Daeron are only a year old, but always search for you, you think they're cute, something that spikes jealousy on Aemond, he wants you to think of him as someone worthy of admiration, like you see his older brother, he'd even accept being cute in your eyes, but he has none of those traits to appeal to you. You love him and love playing with him nonetheless, but he thinks he needs something else to win your favor

>The Velaryons dote on you too, with Laenor married to Rhaenyra and once your father marries Laena that same year, they are maybe too eager to become part of your family, and regard you as theirs

>Especially Laena, who Daemon allows (unlike with Rhea) to pamper and care for you, but still corrects you when it comes to remembering your origins, Laena may love you, but she's not your mother

>Maybe Daemon does this as a way to imagine you're only his, he doesn't care for the woman who abandoned such a precious treasure, she has been wiped away from your life and memory, you're only familiar with your father, you only belong to him

>You have his silver hair, you have his name, no matter who your mother was, you are his true valyrian heir, his dragonseed

>Unfortunately, Daemon is not the only one whose eyes light up when thinking of owning you

[latuarts]

alicent who made the first move, making her way to rhaenyra— to reach out (“queen alicent has not forgotten the love you once had for each other”) and we see rhaenyra's move is to take different path or avoid her in a way this is her refusal to see alicent as what others around her been telling

(“i do not believe alicent capable of cold murder”) its like rhaenyra is saying after all these years i still know you like the back of my hand the same hand that cleansed the blood off your fingers so she goes after her "true enemies" but then alicent follows her, stand before her. you can say this is her protecting the king, protecting her child but i see it more of alicent offering herself to rhaenyra, to repent

(“whether you come as a lover / i'll return on dragonback / or an executioner. i am ready to receive you”). because alicent sees herself guilty, responsible and equally as others who usurped the throne from rhaenyra at the same time it weight more because alicent betrayed her (“you will make a fine queen”)

so take me, punish me— it may not be the same blood you seek but mine flows in the very same vein of the kinslayer. swirling with grief, anger and the looming death and war above their heads yet still rhaenyra do the same move: avoid her and alicent does the same but she comes back to the same place to meet her, waiting for the judgment but walking away because alicent might have thought or realize rhaenyra would not give it.

(“but remember one thing rhaenyra if you perish in this war it would be because of the love you hold for her / alicent holds love for our enemy that makes her a fool”) and rhaenyra does not realize that its a punishment itself to live, to see how her betrayal and the usurpers sin plunge them to war— she follows her because they are so intertwined by many things: childhood friends, marriage, family, crown and their love for each other that no matter what they do, what actions they take and be it by the very own hands or others—

the consequences will be devastating and they will be felt by alicent and rhaenyra because they are the very center of all of this (“it doesn't matter how much i still love you alicent i think i'm going to be angry at you forever / we gave each other this agony no one else knows what it means to carry it”)

[amaltheas-garden]

tbh i don't think rhaenyra's phrase regarding haelena was said in a malicious way. as rider of the one of largest dragons alive rhaenyra probably supposed that if healena was to fight she would have already entered the conflict physically, probably with aemond at rook rest instead of aegon. i mean tb didn't know that aegon wasn't supposed to be here, so in their mind is more logical for healena to be with aemond instead of the king himself (also bc sunfyre is smaller than dreamfire) and because of her absence rhaenyra assumed that she will not fight with her dragon. i think rhaenyra's affirmations was linked to riding in battle and not in general

I think if we only take show context into account, then that's a reasonable interpretation of that line. Helaena is never shown riding and seems more timid than the other Targs. However, we also have to examine why that line is in the show. It's mostly there to reinforce for the audience the idea that Helaena is not someone who would willingly ride to battle on dragonback, and seems to have a disdain for dragon riding overall as we're never shown her connection to Dreamfyre, similar to how Aegon and Sunfyre's relationship was so heavily downplayed. But in the source material, we're told Helaena claimed Rhaena the Black Bride's dragon Dreamfyre at 11 (or possibly younger), in the section dedicated to Aemond's claiming of Vhagar, which details how dangerous it is, even for a Targaryen, to claim a dragon. Which brings me back to the main point of the line, why would a girl who at 11 years old claimed an adult dragon be unwilling to fly Dreamfyre, even if it meant saving her entire family. Well, F&B already answered that: Blood and Cheese. Arguably the most important outcome of that event was that it completely traumatized Helaena to the point she could no longer ride her dragon. But hotd is very intent on A. downplaying anything bad that happened to the Green characters and B. whitewashing any event that could make Rhaenyra look bad. Rhae's husband is the reason her half-sister went mad with grief and can no longer ride her dragon/be a player against Rhaenyra. Hotd instead went the route of b&c having no effect on Helaena, and the reasoning for her not riding Dreamfyre being because she... doesn't want to? Rhaenyra similarly was broken by the grief of her sons and allowed Jace/Corlys/Daemon to run most of the war effort in her absence, and rode Syrax a grand total of one time in the entire Dance, in the short trip from Dragonstone to King's Landing after Alicent surrendered the city. Yet this season is full of Rhae and Syrax scenes for no other purpose than the showrunners wanting the audience to know who the "real" dragon queen is (they literally invented mini side quests just to have an excuse to put more Rhae/Syrax scenes in). They made Helaena not want to ride into battle solely because they did not want to address the immense psychological harm Rhae's faction inflicted on her innocent sister, and downplay the greens' connection to dragons as it makes them seem just as Targaryen as their rivals, and the showrunners are not interested in a story without clear good and bad guys. The book makes it quite clear the only reason Helaena isn't on Dreamfyre is because of b&c:

"... only two mature dragons remained to defend King's Landing... and Dreamfyre's rider, Queen Helaena, spent her days in darkness, weeping, and surely could not be counted as a threat"

"... and Dreamfyre's rider, Queen Helaena, was a broken woman; the city had as well been dragonless"

"... and Dreamfyre, beloved of Queen Helaena"

"Helaena Targaryen was a broken creature who posed no threat to Her Grace"

(& from GRRM's Not A Blog) "... Helaena’s greatest joy in life is to take to the skies on the back of her dragon Dreamfyre"

[dedicatednotobsessed]

Bonded [Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant!Reader]

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Other HOTD stories [requests open]

Summary: You did not understand what marriage would entail at first with one of the Princes of the Seven Kingdoms. A part of you hoped it would be blissful, although it seemed to be the opposite. Being wed to the middle of son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent, it seemed as though he only wanted to perform his duties and ignore you as though you were not his wife. That was until you learned of the news being with child….

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You brought your cup up to your lips, letting out a sigh as the kitchen maids filled your marital table with food. It seemed to be the same routine every morning; waking up in a cold bed and eating alone. Your husband often avoided you for most of the day, either training or riding dragonback and he came back to perform his duties then the cycle repeated itself on the next morrow.

Being a naive girl when you first came to Kings Landing, under your father Ser Harwin’s care, everything seemed bright. He took you to the capital when you were the young age of five years young mentioning that the Queen had children around your age to play with. The marriage between your mother and father did not last long, your mother dying during child birth and he had not taken on another wife. It was a rumor though that he had taken on the Princess Rhaenyra as a lover and sired her three elder sons.

Everything was bright at first. That was until it was announced that you were to marry the King’s second son, Aemond. He was always nice to you up until then. He often made quips about your father being a bastard breeder and you could not understand until the night Aemond claimed his dragon. You still refused to believe though that your late father had bastard children. He never seemed that kind of man to you.

“Princess, you must eat,” A handmaiden spoke up.

You looked up at the young girl, no more than fourteen years of age. Her face was pudgy and she had loose strands of her blonde hair falling from her braid. “Where is my husband?” You questioned, ignoring her question as you took another sip of your morning wine.

The handmaiden stumbled a bit on her words. “H-he is training with Ser Criston, princess,” She stuttered out while fiddling with her hands.

You hummed in response. A part of you hoped that the answer would be different. Aemond has told you numerous times though that he would rather take his other eye out than spend time with those in blood relation to his nephews.

“Help me get dressed,” You instructed the girl quietly while standing.

“B-but the food, princess….”

You gave her a kind smile. “Go ahead and eat once I leave.”

"My princess, I can't—"

"I insist, please."

Your hands were clasped in front of you, your blue sapphire dress flowing elegantly around you while your personal handmaiden trailed a few steps behind you. The dress was one of your favorites with a dipping neckline and intricate beading along the sleeves. It was a gift from your husband shortly before you were to wed, Aemond having mentioned how it matched your eyes. It was indeed a surprise, but a pleasant surprise nonetheless.

You let out a small hum hearing the singing of steel against steel while you made your way into the training grounds, a rather large crowd gathering around the Prince and Ser Criston. You made your way to the front, a small smile finding your way on your lips while you watched your husband. You may not have always gotten along with Aemond, yet you can admire his swordsmanship. The way he danced around Criston before going for a strike was truly a beautiful sight.

You clapped with the crowd when Aemond easily disarmed the knight of his Morningstar before you walked closer after the crowd slowly dispersed. "Congratulations, my husband. You make it seem quite easy."

Aemond turned his attention to you, his eyes wandering over your body. He tried to hide it but you could see the slight admiration in his violet eye. He hummed in response and turned away from you to put his sword up.

"I missed you when I woke up," You said after a moment.

"Well, you have clearly found me."

You let out a sigh at the annoyed tone in Aemond's voice. You looked down at your hands, lightly fiddling with your fingers while furrowing your brows. "I was wondering if you would like to take a walk in the gardens."

Aemond chuckled as he turned his full attention to you. He always had that smug smirk on his lips, as though he was up to something. "I would rather die to Vhagar's flames, my love." He hooked his fingers under your chin lightly so you could meet his gaze. "I will see you in our marital chambers tonight."

You frowned a bit. "I would like to join you on Vhagar," You said suddenly, your mouth moving faster than your mind.

A loud laugh passed Aemond’s lips. “You would like to join me on Vhagar?” He repeated with a cocked brow. “A stroll in the gardens would be more suited for you, sweet one. You can take Helaena if you would like. Gods know why she enjoys your company.” He scoffed a bit.

You let out a sigh but nodded. “Perhaps another time then.” You only wanted to bond with your husband, yet he seemed to want none of it. Simply because of your parentage.

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“I am sure Aemond was only protecting you from Vhagar.”

You looked over at Helaena with a frown on your lips while you walked with her through the gardens. You had voiced your concerns to your sister-by-law, always finding comfort in her with her gentle aura.

“Perhaps it was for the best,” You said quietly. “I have not been feeling well as of late and I would be afraid to vomit in front of Vhagar,” You admitted with a small giggle.

“I suppose that is not a good introduction.” Helaena scrunched up her nose with a small smile. “Are you feeling better?” She asked after a moment.

You let out a sigh and nodded. “The sickness does not last long, although it comes back on the next morrow.”

She furrowed her brows. “When was the last time you bled?” She questioned.

You could not help the small laugh that passed your lips. “What does that have to do with my sickness?”

“Y/N,” Helaena said, her voice as soft as the grip on your arm. “When was the last time you bled?” She repeated. The Targaryen Princess herself had twin children with her brother husband Aegon the Second; a boy and a girl who were no older than two.

Your smile slowly turned into a small frown as you thought it over. You looked down, placing your hand lightly over hers. “It had been a couple of moons now,” You responded quietly, your face paling in realization.

Helaena hummed in response. “Perhaps you should pay the maesters a visit. I can take you there if you wish.”

“Hel—“

“It is just a precaution.” Helaena began to turn you and guide you back into the keep.

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You chewed on your bottom lip gently as you paced back and forth in your chambers, your shaky hands wrapped around a cup of wine. The maester had confirmed your worst fear; your swelling being a little over two moons now. You were not scared with the thought of swelling with child. You were scared of the thought on what Aemond would do if you gave birth to a daughter and not an heir. He had proven to not be the gentlest of husbands in your marriage.

You glanced up when the chamber doors opened, your grip tightening on your cup at the sight of Aemond. You swallowed a lump in your throat before turning away and finishing your wine.

“How was your ride with Vhagar?” You asked after a moment, clasping your hands together as you turned towards your husband.

“I did not have a chance to. Helaena instead on me having tea with her.” Aemond stood by the door, his eye lingering over your body and it did not go unnoticed when his gaze lingered on your stomach. “She wanted to discuss with me about something.”

“Oh?” You cocked a brow. “What did she want?”

Aemond shook his head. “It is not important,” He replied walking closer. “I thought I would grant your wish on coming with me for a ride.”

You furrowed your brows at the sudden kindness. “Would you really like me to join you?”

He nodded while walking behind you to grab your cloak for you. Aemond stood in front of you clasping it in the front, looking up at his face as he lightly fixed your dark curls. Your eyes wandered down when he grabbed onto your hand. The skin of his hands were rough and calloused from years of sword training, yet his grip was soft.

“Come,” He said softly while squeezing your hand gently before leading you out of your marital chambers and towards the old fighting pits.

Although you suggested to go dragon riding with your husband, the nerves were still running through your body. Vhagar was the largest dragon in all of Westeros and you were afraid that she would hurt you or worse, become her next meal. Of course that would never happen, unless Aemond grew bored of you that is.

A small smile curled onto Aemond’s lips feeling you lean into him and he chuckled. “She is not going to hurt you,” He assured you.

You looked up at him, having not heard a genuine laugh ever come out of his lips. “Are you certain?”

Aemond smiled down at you. “Kessa, issa jorrāelagon,” He said softly. (Yes, my love)

You furrowed your brows. “What does that mean?”

Aemond’s smile only widened before he turned towards Vhagar as she lifted her massive head. He took your hand gently and placed it on her neck lightly, chuckling at how you shook.

“You do not have to be scared,” He whispered in your ear.

Your eyes locked onto Vhagar though as she let out a huff while staring at you. Aemond lifted his hand off of yours slowly, his dragon moving her head forward. Your breath caught in your throat while she nudged her snout into your stomach.

You looked down in confusion as she continued to nuzzle into your stomach, feeling Aemond’s hands move to your waist. You couldn’t help the small yelp that passed your lips when he lifted you up.

“Relax,” Aemond told you with a chuckle as he climbed on behind you and held onto you tight, pulling you into his chest.

You closed your eyes while laying your head on his shoulder, laughing a nervous laugh when he chuckled at how scared you were. You felt his hands settle over your stomach, lightly placing a hand over his.

“How far along are you?” He whispered in your ear.

You bit your lip gently, realizing what Helaena wanted to discuss with Aemond. You took a deep breath and looked up at him. “A little over two moons now,” You replied quietly.

There seemed to be a sparkle in Aemond’s eye with a soft smile on his lips. You were scared for a moment as he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. He reached up and placed a hand lightly on your cheek before closing the gap. His kiss was gentle, not like the other kisses before.

He slowly pulled back and leaned his head against yours, your hair whipping lightly in the wind. Aemond looked down at your stomach, his fingers splaying out.

“Issa byka zaldrīes,” He whispered out.

You scrunched your nose lightly. “What does that mean?” You asked curiously.

Aemond looked back at you and smiled more. “My little dragon,” He whispered out.

You felt tears prick your eyes before you leaned up to kiss him once more. It may have taken some time, but Aemond finally became the husband you dreamed of considering you were the daughter of the late Ser Harwin Strong. It only took you to swell with child and for his only friend to approve of you.

[drakaripykiros130ac]

“Errors were made in the hours following King Viserys’ death.”

So much said through that line alone in the teaser. It would have been more believable to have Otto’s voice trembling while saying it.

By errors, he should mean the multiple crimes the greens have committed. Kidnapping, seizure, theft and murder for starters. I mean Otto himself hanged Lord Caswell for the simple suspicion that he was leaving to warn Queen Rhaenyra of her father’s death and the usurpation.

But that’s not what Otto meant. He doesn’t give a damn and in no way acknowledges the crimes his faction committed. What he meant was that the murder of Lucerys before a war had even officially begun, would give the Blacks just cause to retaliate. And he knew perfectly well that this is the opportunity Daemon had been waiting for.

Daemon had wanted to gut him for many years, and now that there was no Viserys to stop him, Daemon would come for all the Hightowers. And what’s more, Lucerys’ murder gives the Blacks the right to shed some Hightower blood and be perfectly justified for it.

I have seen posts with people blaming Rhaenyra for Lucerys’ death (the absurdity of it!)

First of all, at the time, no official war had been declared. Rhaenyra was even considering peace terms.

Secondly, Jacaerys and Lucerys were sent as envoys, not soldiers in battle. What certain people fail to understand is that even in war, there is a code of honor to be respected. You warn the enemy in advance that you intend to declare war, for starters. Another important aspect - envoys are not soldiers! Therefore, envoys are not to be harmed. Borros Baratheon understood that, and even he tried to protect Lucerys from Aemond’s wrath.

The boy was sent as an envoy, and as such, especially when war had not yet been declared, should be given safe passage back home.

Aemond went after him on a dragon 50 times the size of Lucerys’ and directly attacked him. Lucerys was murdered in cold blood before he could reach home from his mission.

Rhaenyra did not send her sons to their deaths. They are not babies. They are teens, on dragonback, sent with messages to the great Lords of the Realm. Jacaerys is a perfect example of a successful envoy. He did his job well and secured the support of the Vale and the North (who have the most powerful armies in Westeros).

Lucerys was unlucky to find Aemond at Storm’s End. How was Rhaenyra to know that the psycho would be there or that he would dare break a code of honor, attack and murder a child sent as an envoy?

Alicent clearly didn’t instill any honor and decency in her own sons, regardless how much she preaches those two qualities. Shows what a terrible mother she is.

Did she do as Rhaenyra did before sending Aemond to Storm’s End? Did she tell him that he is to go there as an envoy and not take part in any fighting, because no war has yet been declared? Did she tell him the importance of respecting a code of honor? I doubt it. But even if she had done so, I doubt Aemond would have listened to her now. She should have raised him right when he was a child and told him a few things, like:

1. It’s not ok to hit young girls

2. It’s not ok to insult someone’s recently deceased parents!

3. Throwing the word “bastard” around is dangerous

Oh and…

4. Outright killing an envoy gives the opposing side the right to wage war and spill blood as well!!!

Alicent really is “mother of the year”, isn’t she? Maybe she could have used the time she spent rubbing her feet for Larys’ pleasure to actually educate her children.

So yeah, all the “errors” made will cost the greens greatly. It will cost their entire bloodline.

For all Daemon and Rhaenyra lost themselves, they still won and achieved what they set out to do: they eliminated the greens’ bloodline and ensured the Iron Throne for their own children and descendants for the rest of the Targaryen dynasty.

[handsome-wise-strong]

I think that's why Im (if not most of us are) drawn to lucemond, its so angst filled. The doomed pair, because we know if their houses weren't so poisoned from the inside, they could've been THE duo of the series.

Sure, maybe they still would've been enemies, but it could've been resolved differently. Many possibilities that the lucemond fandom gets to explore.

Insert some trauma experience or whatever cause its GoT, boom. 'If we die, we die together', or some round about way of 'you fight good'.

Also, like REALLY AEMOND. BLUE. OUT OF ALL THE COLORS YOU CHOSE LUKES COLOR?! Okay, we get it. Do not separate.

See that’s my thing, anon! There are so many possibilities you could imagine for Luke and Aemond. So many different roads for them to have gone down instead of the one they did… but on the other hand, was there ever really any hope for them? Let’s take a look at who they parallel, shall we?

Luke and Aemond are pretty much married in the tradition of their house. (Be delusional with me here for a moment) Not much is known about traditional Valyrian wedding ceremonies except that the couples are wed by blood and fire. Luke and Aemond spilled each other’s blood in the presence of fire. This is a very obvious parallel to both Rhaenyra/Daemon and Rhaenyra/Alicent, especially the latter, because they do the same thing their sons had just moments after the fact.

But on the note of Luke and Aemond being practically wed in that sense, then it’s only natural to compare them to other married couples of their house. That’s where more obvious parallels come into play. Targaryen men have a bad habit of killing their spouses (either intentionally or unintentionally) and Aemond falls prey to that habit as well. Daemon kills Rhea Royce intentionally. Daemon kills Laena Velaryon unintentionally. Viserys kills Aemma Arryn, both a mix of intentionally and unintentionally. And Aemond kills Lucerys both intentionally and unintentionally. The parallel is made stronger by the fact that both Luke and Laena were killed by Vhagar. Daemon, Viserys, and Aemond all sharing looks of horror and disbelief after their spouses die also makes this all the more strong. Once you notice it you can’t unsee it!!

Let’s talk more parallels. Lucemond are pretty much a Daemyra duplicate. Luke being like his mother, the younger of the pair, always being watched by his uncle and in turn, always looking back at his uncle. Luke and Rhaenyra both watch their uncles spar with intrigue. Aemond and Daemon both desire their younger nephew/niece. (I want you to put out your eye. Give me your eye or I will take it / I want Rhaenyra, I’ll take her as she is) Aemond and Daemon both look miserable when seeing Luke and Rhaenyra interact with their betrothed partners — which links directly into Lucemond paralleling Rhaenyra/Alicent as well, as Alicent also looks miserable and furious watching Rhaenyra and her betrothed dance. Alicent gives Rhaenyra a scar, Lucerys gives Aemond a scar. A bit haunting is the Rhaenyra line to Alicent, “I want to fly with you on dragonback,” which we see Lucemond do later on as Aemond chases him across Shipbreaker Bay. A scene which links them directly to another couple again, Daemon and Laena! The scenes are so similar and so different, and it’s eerie seeing Luke and Laena both look back over their shoulders at their partners, Luke with horror and fear and Laena with amusement. Daemon and Aemond move the exact same way, leaning back on their dragons carefreely with smiles on their faces.

Smaller Lucemond parallels to other couples include Rhaenyra/Harwin. Luke giving a shit-eating grin to Aemond with a pig between them, and Harwin giving the exact same look to Rhaenyra, again with a pig there! Harwin calling Rhaenyra boy, and Aemond calling Luke boy.

Why have them parallel so many other canon couples or implied romantically connected characters if they were not meant to be seen as the same? Why have Luke say the line, “I am not free to marry, I am already betrothed.” while looking directly at Aemond if they were not meant to be seen as a married couple?

In conclusion, what I’m trying to say is that this story has been told a thousand times over in the asoiaf universe and in House Targaryen in particular. Lucemond was always going to be a tragic story. But that’s what makes them so beautiful and compelling to me. Their inherently doomed narrative is also probably why so many others were drawn to them like we were, anon! And why so many wonderful and creative fics revolve around their dynamic.

I say keep ‘em coming! I personally can’t get enough of them.

[bbygrldaemon]

Worse Things

Chapter 02

flashbacks high valyrian

ao3 link | spanish translation

Daemon reread the letter for the hundredth time, making sure he was reading it correctly. A raven had arrived from King’s Landing about an hour ago; it was from Grand Maester Mellos. The moment he had seen the raven approaching, a sudden sense of dread had settled in his gut, which only intensified when Maester Helliweg came to him with a grim expression and a letter in his grasp.

The queen was dead. Aemma was dead. She had died during her fifth birth along with the babe she had been carrying for eight moons. It had been a boy—what Viserys had always wished for. The gods had a cruel sense of humor. Aemma’s pregnancies had always been complicated; Rhaenyra was the only baby who had lived longer than a few hours. She had given birth to a stillborn baby almost a month after Daemon had given birth to his son. He had thought that, after that, Viserys would give up on his desire for a son, but his brother never knew when to stop. Aemma got pregnant once again almost two years later, and they took extra precautions this time, with the queen barely leaving her apartments or bed.

Daemon had corresponded with her and Rhaenyra the whole time. He would tell Aemma about his days with his son so she would have something to entertain herself. The queen would tell him about Rhaenyra, how she had taken after him with his love for riding, and how much she enjoyed hearing about his days with his child. She also wrote about how much they both missed him and often requested that he visit them soon.

The prince had planned to visit the Red Keep a little after Aemma was due to give birth, wanting to meet the baby and perhaps help his omega friend with the child. But now his plans had suddenly changed, as the letter also urged him to travel to King’s Landing for the funeral. He considered telling his wife, but he already knew that she would try to forbid him from going, claiming it was too sudden and that it would take them too long to get there. If he suggested going on dragonback, she would argue that their son was too young—even though he had already taken him on his first flight, not that she needed to know that. Besides, he knew Maester Helliweg would tell her eventually if he hadn’t already.

He decided to ask Dyana for help packing his and his son’s clothes. He grabbed Dark Sister from where he had hidden it when he came to live at Runestone and secured it on the belt around his hips. He wasn’t going to tell or even ask permission to leave; he would just deal with the female alpha’s rage when he got back. He didn’t even tell Ser Luthor directly—he just left a letter where he knew the guard would find it, explaining where he was and asking him to join him as soon as he read it.

Daemon quickly made his way to the small mountain where Caraxes liked to spend his time, carrying his two-year-old son in his arms. He made sure his son was secured and wouldn’t fall from the saddle, and Caraxes took off in the direction of King’s Landing.

They arrived in the capital just before dawn. Daemon left Caraxes in the dragon pit and took the waiting carriage to the Red Keep. Upon arrival, they were greeted by Otto Hightower and his daughter, Alicent Hightower, much to Daemon’s disdain. Alicent had been brought to the capital to serve as a companion for Rhaenyra last year. Although the Hand’s daughter was four years older than the princess, they got along well enough.

“The king extends his apology for not welcoming you himself,” Otto Hightower announced as Daemon stepped out of the carriage.

“Hello, omega Daemon,” Alicent greeted him politely. One thing he hated about the beta was that she always addressed him by his sub-gender. It almost felt like mockery, though he knew it was just how she had been raised.

“Hello, Alicent... Otto,” Daemon responded, gritting his teeth at the mention of Otto’s name.

“Where is your alpha, Prince Daemon?” Otto inquired, looking him up and down with a critical glare.

“She will not be attending. The news came suddenly, and she was unable to put her responsibilities on hold at such short notice,” Daemon lied, smirking. His son squirmed, and Daemon adjusted him in his arms.

“ Muña, I’m tired, ” Baelon whined in High Valyrian. Even though Rhea hadn’t wanted their son to follow Targaryen traditions, Daemon had taught Baelon to speak their mother tongue. He had conceded to not placing a dragon egg in Baelon’s cradle, but he wasn’t going to give up on this. Baelon was a Targaryen prince—he would speak the language of his ancestors, and he would have a dragon. Daemon would make sure of that.

“ We’ll go to bed soon, my love, ” Daemon reassured his little son, kissing his forehead to soothe him.

“It hardly seems appropriate for an omega to travel alone, especially with a two-year-old son at his hip,” Otto interrupted, eyeing Baelon. “Who would protect you should trouble find you, as it always seems to follow you, my prince?” he added with disdain, a scowl on his face.

“I can assure you, Lord Hand, that I am more than capable of defending myself and my son,” Daemon replied, his hand lowering to the hilt of his sword as he held Baelon closer.

“I don’t doubt your fighting capabilities, my prince, but you are a mother now. It’s well known that some wild senses dull to make room for more... domestic ones,” Otto countered. “Besides, you came here without your midwives, maids, or sworn sword. Who will help you with your son? Surely you wouldn’t want a maid you don’t know caring for him.”

“Well, fortunately, my old personal maid is here in the capital, since you yourself called for her to assist with the queen’s pregnancy and sent Dyana to replace her,” Daemon smirked at the sour look that crossed Otto’s face. “I’m sure you’ll see to it that she’s assigned to Baelon’s care since you seem so concerned.”

“I—” Otto began, but he was interrupted by one of the Kingsguard.

“Apologies, my prince, Lord Hand, but the king has made it clear that Prince Daemon should be shown to his apartments immediately so he can freshen up and rest after his long journey,” Ser Harrold Westerling informed them.

“Of course. The prince and his son shall rest well for tomorrow,” Otto said, feigning concern. Daemon adjusted his hold on his son and made to follow Ser Westerling.

“Rest well, omega Daemon,” Alicent bid him farewell.

Daemon only nodded in acknowledgment before following the Kingsguard. Halfway to his chambers, a maid he had never seen before approached him, causing him to stop in his tracks.

“My prince, I can take Prince Baelon from your hands,” she said, extending her arms as if to take his son.

Daemon immediately backed away, pressing his son closer to his chest. “No,” he growled, startling her. “He’s staying with me.”

“I apologize, Prince Daemon. The lord hand ordered me to make sure the little prince is brought to the royal nursery,” the woman explained, cowering under his intense gaze.

“Of course he did. My son will be staying in my room with me, and I only want Elinda caring for him when I can’t,” Daemon said with a frown, gently rocking his son. The maid bowed quickly and left, allowing Daemon and Ser Westerling to continue to his rooms.

Once they arrived at his apartments, Daemon set his restless son down near the fireplace. He let out a long sigh, rubbing his lower back—he hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until now.

“My prince, His Grace has appointed me as your personal guard until Ser Luthor Largent arrives,” Ser Westerling informed him. Daemon gave a nod of acknowledgment but stopped the guard before he could exit the room.

“Where is my niece, Ser?” Daemon questioned.

“The princess hasn’t left her chambers since… the queen…” the guard trailed off, not finishing the sentence.

“I understand. Thank you…” Daemon said quietly. Ser Westerling bowed slightly and left, closing the door behind him.

Daemon noticed that his and his son’s belongings were already neatly placed inside the wardrobe. There was also a chest full of toys next to one of the couches near the fireplace. He sat beside it and opened the chest. Baelon was already there, eager to see what was inside. Daemon pulled out a few dragon figurines and handed them to his son, watching with a soft look of pure love and devotion.

The Rogue Prince had rejected his omega nature for most of his life. He never wanted to settle down or have children. His dream had been to travel all over Westeros, free to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. For a time, he lived that life, though his travels were limited—his brother would always protest, coming up with excuses to keep him grounded, citing Daemon’s status as an omega. Even so, Daemon would sneak out on occasion, though he’d always receive a scolding when he returned.

He had once been called Lord Fleebottom by the smallfolk, the reason being that he would frequent the brothels there. There were always rumors roaming around of how the prince of the city, another one of his labels, would buy complete brothels for the gold cloaks and have orgies with multiple alphas. Some people claimed to have witnessed this and even seen the prince drinking moon tea every night. Only half of it was true really, up until Rhea he had never let an alpha fuck him properly, but he never bothered to deny the rumors. 

Daemon had always believed he would be a terrible mother, thinking that his omega traits had been repressed for too long to surface naturally. He had never found an alpha he deemed worthy enough to carry their child, and even though his marriage to Rhea was not his choice, the outcome wasn’t as bad as he had feared.

Baelon had become his reason for living. When Daemon found out he was pregnant, he had been scared and briefly considered asking the maester for moon tea to end it. But in the end, he decided against it. During the pregnancy, the maternal instincts others spoke of never seemed to come, leaving him to believe that his omega side had been suppressed for too long. He had assumed that the love he felt for Rhaenyra would be the closest he’d come to loving a child of his own. But he had been so wrong.

The moment he held Baelon after hours of excruciating labor, a deep and overwhelming love took root in his heart, alongside a fierce protectiveness. It was a feeling unlike any he had ever known—something completely new.

“ Muña, I’m tired, ” Baelon cried out, pulling Daemon from his thoughts. He sighed, looking at his son.

“ All right, my love, let’s get you ready for bed, ” Daemon said gently, scooping him up into his arms.

He requested a bath to be drawn for both him and Baelon. Once it was ready, Daemon asked the maids to leave, quickly washing himself and his son. After ensuring they were clean, he dressed them both in nightclothes.

Since a cradle hadn’t been brought for Baelon yet, Daemon tucked the little alpha into his bed and climbed in beside him, wrapping his arms protectively around his son. Baelon snuggled closer, tucking his nose into Daemon’s neck and inhaling his scent. Daemon kissed the top of his son’s head and buried his own face in the boy’s soft brown hair, breathing in the faint scent of sandalwood and oakmoss. With Baelon in his arms and his comforting scent filling his senses, Daemon finally drifted into a peaceful sleep.

—————————————

He finally saw his brother and his thirteen-year-old niece at the funeral. Viserys looked terrible—his skin pale, his eyes sunken with dark patches beneath them. He stared into nothing, looking lost, sadness heavy in his gaze. Rhaenyra wasn’t any better. Tears streamed down her blotchy face, and her eyes were red and swollen. When Daemon saw her, he pulled her into his arms, and she broke completely, becoming inconsolable.

His eyes drifted to the funeral pyre where Aemma and her son’s bodies lay, wrapped in white cloth. Syrax stood on a small mound nearby, awaiting her rider’s command. Baelon rested on Daemon’s left hip as they stood directly behind Rhaenyra, while Viserys was off to one side, closest to the pyre. Behind them, a gathering of lords and ladies from the high houses had assembled, including his cousin Rhaenys and her husband, Corlys Velaryon.

Rhaenyra stared at the pyre, almost trance-like. They had been standing there for some time, and Daemon, concerned for his niece, approached her from behind.

“They're waiting for you,” he whispered gently.

“ I wonder if, during those few hours my brother lived, my father finally found happiness, ” Rhaenyra said, her voice distant, without turning to face him.

“ Your father needs you, now more than ever, ” Daemon couldn’t help but reply. Despite knowing that much of this sorrow stemmed from Viserys' selfish choices, he couldn’t bear to see the bond between father and daughter fracture further. They needed each other, even if neither would admit it.

“ I will never be a son, ” she said weakly, as though forcing the words from her lips. Daemon held Baelon closer, trying to shield his son’s tearful, swollen eyes from view. He couldn’t stop his own tears from falling, his heart aching for his niece’s pain.

Rhaenyra slowly approached the pyre but hesitated before giving the command. She glanced at her father, longing etched in her expression. For a brief moment, she waited for him to meet her gaze, but Viserys didn’t look back. He barely moved, still fixated on the pyre, lost in grief.

Turning away quickly, she faced Syrax “ Dra– ” her voice broke. “ Dracarys! ” she finally called out.

The yellow dragon responded to her rider's command, advancing towards the pyre. When close enough, Syrax opened her mouth, releasing a torrent of flames that consumed the bodies of Aemma and her child. Daemon could only watch as the fire blazed, taking with it the only other omega in his family. Once again, Daemon was alone.

—————————————

The last week had been sheer torture for Daemon. He was not only tasked with caring for his 2-year-old son but also his 13-year-old niece and his 28-year-old brother. As an omega, it fell upon him to ensure Rhaenyra and Viserys ate all their meals, even if he had to force-feed them. Despite Viserys forbidding anyone from entering his apartments, Daemon had found a way in through the secret tunnels. The omega would not allow his brother to push him and Rhaenyra away so easily. Viserys spent most of his time in his chambers, fixated on his model of Old Valyria, while Rhaenyra wandered the castle, often in Alicent's company, which Daemon found unsurprising.

Ser Luthor Largent, Daemon's sworn sword, had arrived in King's Landing two days after the funeral, warning him of his wife’s foul temper. Apparently, Maester Helliweg had failed to inform her of the queen’s death, thinking Daemon would have sent word himself. It wasn’t until Rhea found his chambers empty that she realized he had left, taking their son and his dragon. At first, she assumed Daemon had finally run away. However, when the maester informed her of the news from King’s Landing, she quickly realized where her omega had gone. Ser Luthor hadn’t stayed long enough to witness her reaction, departing Runestone as quickly as possible to join Daemon in the capital.

Now, Daemon found himself standing outside Viserys’ room, having left his still-sleeping son with Elinda. He hadn’t broken his fast yet, but seeing his brother was more pressing. The alpha had blocked the secret passageway to his room and had been ignoring Daemon’s protests for what felt like hours. Daemon was furious—not only had Viserys been avoiding him, but also Rhaenyra. That was the last straw. His brother could shun him all he wanted, but not his daughter—not after Aemma.

“I apologize, my prince, but the king was adamant about not letting anyone in,” one of the Kingsguard said, blocking his path.

“Well, I’m not just anyone, am I? I’m his brother,” Daemon shot back, attempting to bypass the guard. The alpha grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Don’t touch me!” Daemon snapped, struggling in the guard’s grip, his voice rising. He reached for Dark Sister, but before he could draw the blade, Ser Luthor Largent arrived.

“How dare you lay hands on a prince, and an omega no less!” Ser Luthor shouted, wrenching the guard's arm away from Daemon.

At that moment, the door to the room swung open, and Viserys emerged.

“What’s all this commotion?” the king demanded, his voice laced with irritation.

“Tell your guard dog to keep his paws off me and stop barring me from seeing you,” Daemon spat, glaring at the guard.

Viserys sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Daemon, I think you should return to the Vale.”

“What?” Daemon shouted in disbelief, just as the Hand of the King, Otto Hightower, appeared in the doorway.

“Why would you say that?” Daemon demanded, his voice cracking.

“Brother, I’m grateful you came for Aemma’s funeral, but we’ve received a raven from Runestone,” Viserys explained. “The letter was from your wife, asking that we send you and your son back at once. She wasn’t informed of the queen’s death and had no idea where you had gone.”

“I—” Daemon began, but Otto Hightower interrupted.

“I believe it would be wise to heed the king’s wishes, my prince,” Otto said with a smug smirk.

“My brother’s wishes or yours?” Daemon challenged, stepping closer to the Hand and locking eyes with him.

Anger simmered in Daemon’s chest. He couldn’t believe Viserys was letting Otto Hightower dictate his actions. The familiar scent of burnt sugar and cherries, signaling his distress, filled the air. The alphas nearby recoiled slightly, some covering their noses, while Ser Luthor moved to stand protectively between Daemon and the others.

“Daemon, control yourself,” Viserys said sternly, stepping closer and grasping his arms. “This is exactly why I want you to return to the Vale. You’re in distress, brother. You need your alpha near.”

“I don’t need that deceitful bitch near me,” Daemon snapped, yanking himself out of his brother’s hold as though he had been burned. His scent intensified, filling the room.

“That’s no way to speak of your alpha wife, Prince Daemon,” Otto chastised, straightening his posture in mock offense.

Daemon ignored him, turning to Viserys. “Stop pushing me away,” he pleaded. “You’re my brother. You can’t just cast me aside.”

Viserys averted his gaze, and Daemon’s heart sank. “Really?” he whispered. “You’re not going to say anything?”

Without waiting for an answer, Daemon spun on his heel and stormed away. He could hear Otto protesting behind him, but the omega paid no heed. He wandered aimlessly through the castle, eventually finding himself near Rhaenyra’s chambers. Suddenly, the faint scent of cashmere wood, cinnamon, and red thyme caught his attention.

Drawn in, he moved closer to the source. He found himself standing outside Rhaenyra’s door. Criston Cole, her sworn sword, was nowhere in sight. Before Daemon could stop himself, he opened the door, only to be hit by a strong, earthy scent that made his head swim.

Inside, Rhaenyra was curled up in the corner of her room, clutching her stomach in pain. The moment she caught his scent, she turned to him, her violet eyes wide and desperate. It hit him then—Rhaenyra was in her first rut.

Daemon approached, mesmerized by the scent. He knew he should leave, and get a maester, but he couldn’t move. Rhaenyra rose from the floor and moved toward him, her eyes locked on his.

When she reached him, she grabbed his neck and pulled him close, growling. Daemon felt her bury her nose against his scent gland, inhaling deeply. He snapped out of his daze and tried to pull away, but Rhaenyra’s grip tightened.

“Rhaenyra, stop,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “You’re in rut. I need to fetch a maester.”

“No,” she growled, pulling him even closer. “You’re mine.”

Daemon whimpered as her scent overwhelmed him, making him lightheaded. He tried to fight it, but he couldn’t. His body betrayed him, and he bared his neck further.

“Rhaenyra, please…” he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper.

But Rhaenyra didn’t relent. Her nails dug into his skin as she whispered, “My omega.”

Her lips brushed his neck, her tongue tracing his scent gland. Daemon trembled, his mind fogged with her scent. He couldn’t think straight. But when he felt her sharp teeth against his scent gland, something inside him snapped. He shoved her away with all his strength, stumbling back.

Rhaenyra stared at him, shocked before her expression darkened. She lunged at him again, but this time Daemon was quicker. He bolted from the room, running straight to the maester’s chambers to inform them of his niece’s rut.

Later, he soaked in a bath, scrubbing his skin raw in a desperate attempt to rid himself of Rhaenyra’s scent. Even after Elinda reassured him that he no longer smelled of alpha, he couldn’t shake the feeling that her scent still clung to him.

Even at night with his nose buried into his son’s hair, the smell didn’t leave him, almost as if it had clung to his nose and refused to dissipate. Daemon didn’t realize when he fell asleep, but it had been one of the best nights sleep he had had in a while.

—————————————

“I corroborated this report with three separate witnesses, the intention was, by all accounts, to entice and seduce,” Otto informed the king, “I must insist for there to be repercussions for this grotesque act. Even if he is your own brother, your grace.” The king only nodded before dismissing him. Otto left the room with a smirk on his face.

—————————————

Daemon entered the throne room after being urgently summoned by his brother. “You bear the image of the Conqueror, brother,” he remarked, seeing Viserys sitting on the Iron Throne, crown on his head, Blackfyre in hand.

“Did you do it?” Viserys asked, his tone sharp. The scent of his anger was thick in the room, radiating from him. Daemon halted just in front of the Kingsguard standing watch.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Daemon replied, confused, unsure of what his brother was implying.

“You will address me as ‘Your Grace,’ or I will have my Kingsguard cut out your tongue,” Viserys snapped. “Rhaenyra’s rut. Did you provoke it?”

Daemon stood silent, stunned his brother would accuse him of such a thing. “I don’t know where you heard that, Your Grace, but it is a blatant lie.”

“I have three witnesses who claim they saw you enter the princess’s chambers before she went into rut—how you just stood there while she tried to bite your neck,” the king said.

“They’re lying,” Daemon let out a disbelieving laugh, shocked that Viserys was even entertaining this idea. He hadn’t provoked Rhaenyra’s rut, though he had frozen in place when it happened. He was sure no one else had been around—or at least, he thought so. His brother’s frown deepened.

“My family has been torn apart, and instead of standing by my side or comforting Rhaenyra, you seduced her—nearly letting her claim you. For what?” Viserys pressed. “To cling to the inheritance you still think is yours? To deflower her so I would have no choice but to disown her, and name you as my heir?” The king’s accusations hung in the air.

Daemon lowered his gaze, knowing his brother had already made up his mind. Nothing he said now would change that. He could almost hear Otto Hightower's whisper in his brother's ear, twisting everything.

“You have no allies at court but me, I have only ever defended you, and everything I’ve given you you’ve thrown back in my face,” Viserys shouted, his anger intensifying, filling the room.

“You’ve only ever sent me away,” Daemon shot back. “To the City Watch, to the Vale—anywhere but at your side. Ten years you’ve been king, and yet not once have you asked me to be your hand,” the omega angrily yelled back, getting annoyed at his brother’s claims.

“Why would I do that?” Viserys asked.

“Because I’m your brother, and the blood of the dragon runs thick,” Daemon replied, glaring up at the alpha.

“Then why do you cut me so deep?” Viserys’s voice softened for a moment.

“I’ve only ever spoken the truth. I see Otto Hightower for what he is,” Daemon began, but Viserys interrupted.

“An unwavering and loyal—”

“A cunt,” Daemon spat. “A second son who stands to inherit nothing he doesn’t seize for himself.”

“Otto Hightower is a more honorable man than you could ever be,”  Viserys countered shaking his head. “He doesn’t protect you—I would.”

“From what?” Viserys asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Yourself,” Daemon answered without hesitation. “You’re weak, Viserys. And that council of leeches knows it—they prey on you for their own ends.”

Viserys was silent for a moment. “I have decided to name Rhaenyra my heir,” he said, pausing before continuing. “You are to return to Runestone and your alpha wife at once—and you are to do so without quarrel. By order of your king.”

Daemon stepped forward, but the Kingsguard blocked his path, hands on the hilts of their swords. He looked to Viserys, expecting him to order them aside, to assure them that his brother would never harm him—but Viserys said nothing. Daemon lowered his eyes. “Your Grace,” he muttered, before turning and leaving the throne room.

In his chambers, Daemon angrily packed his and his son’s belongings. Tears streamed down his face, but he ignored them—he needed to leave the Red Keep immediately. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ser Luthor standing by the door.

Daemon woke his son, shushing him as he began to whine. “ I know, but we need to leave now, my little dragon, ” Daemon whispered, holding him close. With Ser Luthor’s silent assistance, they made their way to the Red Keep’s entrance, where a carriage awaited.

Daemon mounted Caraxes, his son securely strapped to him. Without needing a word, the Blood Wyrm took flight, leaving King’s Landing behind.

—————————————

“Corlys of house Velaryon, lord of the tides and master of Driftmark,” announced Ser Westerling to the crowd gathered inside the throne room.

The Sea Snake stepped directly in front of Rhaenyra and kneeled to her, “I, Corlys Velaryon, lord of the tides, master of Driftmark promised to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir the Princess Rhaenyra. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies, in good faith, and without deceit. I swear this by the old gods and the new.”

“Lord Hobert Hightower, beacon of the south, defender of the citadel, and voice of Old Town” the commander announced.

The hand’s older brother stepped into Coryl’s previous place and kneeled. “I, lord Hobert Hightower, beacon of the south, defender of the citadel, and voice of Old Town promised to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir the Princess Rhaenyra. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies, in good faith, and without deceit. I swear this by the old gods and the new.”

“Boremund of House Baratheon,” was announced.

The man slowly stepped in front of Rhaenyra and with hesitation kneeled to the princess, “I, Boremund Baratheon, promised to be faithful to King Viserys and his named heir… the Princess Rhaenyra. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all enemies, in good faith, and without deceit. I swear this by the old gods and the new.”

After all the lords of the high houses kneeled and proclaimed loyalty to them, Rhaenyra turned to the iron throne where the king stood, “I, Viserys Targaryen, first of his name, king of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the first men, lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the Realm who hereby name Rhaenyra Targaryen, princess of Dragonstone and heir to the iron throne.”

After Viserys finished, everyone in the room bowed their heads to the king and his named heir, Rhaenyra Targaryen.

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[eschercaine]

Am I the only one who doesn’t like Rhaenyra and Alicent’s friendship on the tv show?

On the books... yes, they initially got along. That is until Alicent gave birth to Aegon and Aemond. And when Viserys I died, Alicent usurped her stepdaughter and placed her son on the throne.

If Rhaenyra has a friend, it’s not Alicent. It’s Laena Velaryon.

Whilst Princess Rhaenyra misliked her stepmother Queen Alicent, she became fond and more than fond of her good-sister Lady Laena. — The Rogue Prince

And Rhaenyra attended her during the birth of her child.

And in 119 AC, when Laena found she was with child again, Rhaenyra flew to Driftmark to attend her during the birth. — The Rogue Prince

I’ve been reading some passages from the books on A Search of Ice and Fire and Rhaenyra and Laena were best friends, indeed. They visited each other on dragonback with their husbands. Daemon and Laena were not in Pentos, they were in Driftmark.

So... this “droll tragedy” on the tv show never happened.

With Driftmark and Dragonstone so close, Daemon and Laena oft visited with the princess, and her with them. Many a time they flew together on their dragons, and the princess’s she-dragon Syrax produced several clutches of eggs. — The Rogue Prince

I don’t know how the directors, producers, showrunners, and the writers come up with “Rhaenyra and Alicent are besties” WHEN LAENA VELARYON IS RIGHT THERE.

And Laena’s death on the books is much better than what is shown in House of the Dragon.

After three days of delirium, Lady Laena passed from this mortal coil. She was but twenty-seven. During her final hour, it is said, Lady Laena rose from her bed and made her way from her room, intent on reaching Vhagar that she might fly one last time before she died. Her strength failed her on the tower steps, however, and it was there she collapsed and died. Her husband Prince Daemon carried her back to her bed.

I hate that the Ryan Condal and Sara Hess did Daemon dirty. Yes, he had done terrible things, but he loves and cares about Laena.

Afterward, Princess Rhaenyra sat vigil with him over Lady Laena’s corpse and comforted him in his grief.

Honestly, when I read it, I wanna see all of it come to life on screen but I guess I expect too much.

I’m disappointed that they wasted their friendship and replace Laena with Alicent instead.

And again, if they want to be true to the books, why not just... put it out there?

[camilbarnessss]

¤ The Dance of The Dragons ¤

{ Aemond Targaryen }

《 Part 8 》

The One-Eyed Prince and The Rogue Princess married. Secretly, but they did, even after all the schemes and plots of their families so they couldn't. The lovers made their own discreet plot as well, and it is working just fine. Daera understands their position, the causes of their harsh decisions. However, anyone who was wronged like Aemond so many times was, is going to feel some sort of hatred, wether it's subconsciously or consciously, towards the people who did it. That is a hard true. But, what Aemond ends up doing above the skies of Storm's End, out of rage, and eternal resentment...ultimately starts the domino effect that would lead to The Dance of the Dragons, which will mean the lost of his sanity...and his love.

《 The Invitation's Second Season 》

Masterlist

Warnings: constant swearing, infidelity, lots of angst, mention of rape, mention of corruption, forced abortion, TARGARYEN INCEST [cousinXcousin]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Enjoy your reading!!! Likes, comments and reblogs will be highly appreciated ♡♡♡

■ ■ ■

The night is long. And, though many in the castle may be wishing for it to be over already, the arriving of the next day will not suit gladly to some. Specially to the royal family, to be clear, who, ironically, are the ones more desperated for the day to be over.

After the violent encounter between the princes Aegon and Daera, in the former's chambers, Ser Erryk, his sworn protector, stayed at the outsides of the rooms. The white cloak now stands with firmness in front of the doors, in silence, remembering the fight and acussations of the princes he witnessed, not even an hour ago.

After the others left the quarters, a serious Aemond tried to take his brother to Maester Orwyle, for him to clean and treat properly the bleeding wounds on both his arms. Nevertheless, Aegon was in total denial, and started drinking recklessly -crying as well- while yelling madly to his younger brother to fuck off and to leave him alone.

Not putting up with any of his shit, prince Aemond fucked off the room, and left his drunk brother alone in his misery. On his way out, he mocked Ser Erryk, as he has done before a few times, pointing out what a sworn protector he is, that couldn't get past the Velaryon pups to save his prince. The Cargyll twin, as he must, remained silent.

Prince Aemond, afterwards, desired to reach to his wife's chambers, to also try to take care of her own injuries and, besides, to talk with her. However, the prince was catched in a hallway by his grandfather, The Hand, whom he had a talk with about his reckless and dangerous behaving in the supper. When Otto asked for Aegon, wanting to reproach him to, Aemond only answered that his brother was "rotting himself deeper".

While the young princes of the realm were having their private and brutal quarrel, the adults of the royal family shared, as a matter of fact, a warm moment. Well, Rhaenyra and Alicent, to be clear. The Queen and The Princess agreed on the matter that the latter will be returning to The Keep, in dragonback, within a short time, after seeing the children home. Rhaenyra would be returning to King's Landing along her older step-daughter, Daera, for she still oughts eight more days of her monthly visits to her godschildren, and her dear cousin.

Subsequently to the fight, Lucerys, Rhaena and Baela had departed to their bedrooms by themselves after they were commanded to it by their two older siblings. Matters to say that, before they went to their chambers, and after Luke had a quick talk with his mother, he communicated to all that they will be leaving soon, later in the night, back to home. He, as well, told his older sister that she would be coming back with the company of Rhaenyra, which she heartily agreed to.

The siblings didn't want for their parents to know about the fight of Daera and Aegon, for that would only worsen the doings of the dinner. Thus, Daera didn't go to see Maester Orwyle either. Had it been Maester Gerardys they would have gone to him, for he knows how to keep secrets. But, unfortunately, he remained in Dragonstone while they are at the capital.

Hence, the one attending to Daera's wounds, is her husband...her fake husband.

In the round dining table of Jacaerys's rooms, he is seated along his wife, who has both her arms extended in front of him. Two chandeliers are lighted near them, and then, the whole chamber is sinked in the darkness of the starry night. The tiny flames of each candle dance in the air, keeping them warm.

With delicacy and caution, Jace passes a humid rag on her arms, carefully cleaning the wounds with slowness. The bleeding has ended, minutes ago, and now he is just cleaning the blood left, caring a lot about not touching the injuries to often, for they are still very fresh, and irritated.

She has Aegon's eight scratches on her arms, and seems to not care about them, for she has not complained even once about the pain.

Daera sighs through her nose, pressing her lips as she watches the ugly long wounds she now wears in her skin.

-And, so, Dyana will join us in our way back home-, the princess goes telling, with a low soft voice-...She will be better at Dragonstone-, she whispers.

-I agree-. Jacaerys sighs, tired. He is slouched in his chair, with a really bad posture, in front of her, carefully cleaning her blood with the rag-. I am so glad she'll be out of this place-. He sighs, again, and then tsks his tongue-. You know? If we could only know how many girls he has damaged, we would take them all with us-. For a moment, he stops his doings, lifting his head to look at her, with impotence.

When he looks up to his wife, he finds a soft crooked smirk on her lips, and a tired shine on her eyes, staring at him with a pity sadness. Within some silent seconds, he sighed, understanding her without the needing of words.

-You are right-, Jace whispers, looking down again to keep cleaning the blood-. Solutions are not the problem. Things like that must not even happen, in the first place-. The prince mumbles, ashamed. The princess nods quietly, exhausted, losing her gaze on some point-. My uncles are...total guttersnipes-, he grunts lowly, frustrated.

Daera gives a slow blink, thinking of her cousin. Not Aegon, much less Daeron, but Aemond. She remembers his speech in the supper, the tauntly toast he gifted to her brothers. He called them Strong, in front of everybody, and she just can't believes it. He has always make sport of mocking the bastards, of course, but never before had Aemond been so blunt about it, not in front of the adults of the family. He didn't even care about Rhaenyra, his half-sister and mother of the boys, or about Daemon's presence, the one who decapitated Vaemond Velaryon for an equal mock made to his family.

No, Aemond just did it, after being dead silent and ignoring her gazes during the supper. Luke had been eating his own head since the fighting for his succession began, for he thought he did not deserve it. The last thing he needed was his uncle pointing out his alleged bastardy. Jace wasn't rooting for it either, because he himself has also been anxious about his future kingdom and how he'll be received by it.

Aemond didn't seem to care about her either, in that moment, for she had been so clear with him about how nervous and tense she was about all the visit, and the hearing, and he just seemed to ignore that too. Recklessly, her husband lifted his cup to haunt her whole family.

Daera sighs through her nose, briefly scrunching her lips.

-I am sorry for what Aemond said, at the dinner-. She mumbles from a moment to another, making Jace to blink slowly, as he keeps rubbing the rag on her arms-. He doesn't know what he's talking about-. The princess hisses, sincerely angry with him, but not in the way Jace might pressume.

-I care naught about what he has to say-, Jacaerys answers with confidence, and a calm voice-. I know who I am-, he states.

The princess presses her lips, looking at him with a tiny smile of pride, silently nodding.

Jacaerys may have got a little too tempered back in the Strong Toast, and could not hold himself of clashing his fist against the mummer's face. Two things led him to that: the disprespect towards his wife, and the disrespect towards him and his brothers.

"I have my own memories", the one-eyed dared to declare, alluding to the times he got to sleep with princess Daera, last year, before she cut off any relation and fondness of him, or that is that the lot believes. Little did they know that the "memories" prince Aemond was making reference to, were made just the past night, when she rode him passionly in the intimacy of their secret island.

However, as we are seeing the things from prince Jacaerys's eyes -for the moment- let us imagine what he must have felt when recalling that he married his cousin-sister, in the first place, to protect her and save her from the ruthless being that, tonight, Aemond assured to be.

-Sister-, he calls her in a low murmur, as he keeps cleaning her wounds with delicacy, looking at them-. We have been wed for...a year, already-. He points.

-Indeed-, she answers him along a short giggle. He breathes a quick smile, soon closing his lips with doubt, and hidden nerves.

-Regarding the- the thing that we did today, at your chambers...-, Jace starts to recall, raising his brows. Daera raises hers as well, shivering for a second when remembering that she still oughts to tell Aemond about that-. I wanted to ask you if...-he sighs-...if you feel like you took the right decision, about leaving all of your feelings for Aemond completely behind-. The prince asked, lifting his head to look at her right in the eyes.

She opens her lips, staring at him with an honest surprise.

Daera wasn't expecting that question, for this is literally the first time he asks about the matter, since they agreed to never do it again. What is her answer? A one she cannot say outloud. That she loves Aemond, from the bottom of her heart, still to this day. That she feels that this was the right decision, to keep loving him, no matter what.

However, her eyes light up with dearness as she watched the brother she was forced to wed. To be honest, she loves to feel this protected, not only by him, but by her entire family too. The wounds in her heart caused by the disagreements of those days have healed. Whilst she forgot about the despair and the endless fights during that time, she remembers their worriness and desire for her to be well, and good. They were only taking care of her, as she always does with all of them. How to ever blame them?

Curious, Jace looks at the tender smirk that formed on his wife's lips.

-You are smart, good-hearted, loyal...and quite handsome-, Daera raises her brows funnily. He instantly snickers, looking down, and she laughs as well. Jacaerys smiles softly, looking up at her again, staring at the dear glim in her eyes-...You are a good husband-, she whispered, sincere, giving him his answer.

Jace smiles, blushing, and looking down again. He has left the rag on the table, and now he softly holds her left arm, where the lesser wounds are, in his hands.

-You are a good wife...-, he whispered back, lowly, tenderly caressing her wrist with his thumbs, feeling her warm skin.

Daera smiles tinyly, looking at his hands. "I am hers, and she is mine", Jacaerys stated the day of their wedding, officiated by the religion of The Seven, looking at her eyes while saying it. It is a pity, to be honest, that he actually does not posses a good wife, for she fucks another man while being married to him, because she also married that other man and, doubtessly, she belongs to him instead.

Jace keeps rubbing his thumbs on her arms, doing it so slowly, and tenderly. The silence in the room is a comfy one, with only the burning candles to be heard. Jace raises his gaze, looking for her eyes.

They were already on him, watching him in silence. The prince, inevitably, starts to remember the things his wife did to him on the afternoon, seated on top of him, and dancing majestically in there. The memories made his brown eyes to glow dark, and his throat to gulp.

Princess Daera is an expert reading a man's desire and, with no doubt, she easily read it on her brother's gaze. Even with shame, he keeps remembering how she kissed him so wildly before. Daera blinks, feeling his caressings, and looking at him too.

Alyssa comes to her mind. Counting this night, it will be two already since her real husband impregnated her. Time is essential, and she can not lose it at all cost. She needs to do this and, well, Jace seems to want to do this.

Jacaerys clears his throat, feeling he has been staring for too long.

-Ah- uhh, let me go wash this-. The prince mumbles, letting her arm go, taking the rag, and standing up from his chair. Seeing him go, Daera blinks slowly, tilting her head to a side.

As he walks, Jace hears her chair moving, which made his steps to go slower. He almost turned around, but flinched at the moment of feeling two hands getting hold of his shoulders.

Daera makes him to turn around, breathing above his lips. Jace immediately gasps, and the rag fell on the floor, being forgotten.

-Daera-, he whispers, surprised.

She repeatedly shushes, placing her hands on his burning cheeks, and getting her face closer to him as she began to walk, pushing his body with her forwards steps. He gulps, watching at her lips, and not caring about where she was taking him.

Jace's back crashed against a wall, which took out a sudden groan from him, surprising himself. Daera extended a cocky smile, opening her eyes big, and gripping his shoulders tightly.

-You hide it so badly-, she whispers, approaching to him without shyness.

-What?-, he breathes fast, and then groans again when feeling her body starting to press against his. His manhood, all mighty, twitched at the second of feeling her.

-Your wanting of me-, she answered with a thin voice. Stiff, Jace breathes fastly, staring at her eyes-. I don't want you to hide it-. Daera cooes, directing one hand to his pants, and grabbing the between of them.

Jace immediately moaned, so shakily, almost melting right there in the wall, if it hadn't been for her other hand coming up to his jaw, grabbing it with her five fingers.

-Don't keep anything to yourself-. She asks, starting to rub the palm of her hand on his pants, feeling the tight bulk in them.

Jacaerys moans, shocked, curving his brows as he feels the magic touches on his croatch. He moans, time after time, even though they are soft and slow. Daera can't help but to gulp when she feels his cock again, for it is ridiculously big, fleshy and- fuck, strong.

She notices he moans before the lightest touches, and it amuses her to some point, for it is blatantly obvious that he has never had hands on his body, but his own, if so if he does those things. The princess, inevitably, laughs.

-You are so sensible, Jace, aren't you?-. She whispers, with her nose skimming his. Weakly, he tsks his tongue, all blushed while he moans-. You've never been touched like this, have you?-. Daera has her fun, smiling, rubbing his crotch from up to down.

-Never-, his thin voice answers, barely being able to talk, while she does it with all the causality of The Seven Kingdoms.

-I can tell, prince-. She snickers, looking down, and curving her brows when finding the bigass erection on his pants, as if it has been like that since an hour ago-. My gods, what was in that supper?-, she whispers, bemused.

-I apologize-, he whines, ashamed. Oh, but that's the last thing he should be.

-Ugh, lusty brother-. Daera sighs, taking one of his hands with one of hers-. You must never apologize for surprising a woman-, she says, pressing her other hand tighter against his trousers. Jace trembles, groaning-. And neither you must neglect her-, she funnily mumbled, placing his hand, in one of her breasts.

Her brother nearly fainted at that moment, legs trembing and chest coming up and down, mouth always open. He was stiff before, but now he's melting, feeling the warm soft hill -as he prefers to call it- in her chest. He moans, breathless, when the hand above his made him to start squeezing it, as if it was one of those toys Joffrey has, a leather ball full of water.

-Holy lords, Daera-. The young prince sighs, watching stoppless how her breast gets squeezed under her blouse. Her neckline is so shyless that he can see the flesh getting tight under his hand-. My gods...-his head tilts to a side, mesmerized by the feeling, and the sight.

-Jace-, she sighs his name, closing her eyes as she gets her lips closer to his-. I want to make you a man-, Daera murmured, sensually, over his mouth. The prince whines, speechless before her confession.

It is not the first time she would be deflowering a man.

Daera herself makes the position to give a turn, and now her back is the one against the wall. Jacaerys moans, automatically leaning against her hand and body, making her to laugh for a second. Afterwards, she grabbed his neck from behind, and ended the distance between their lips.

The prince groans when they started to kiss with no restriction. Her mouth seems to always be hungry, he has noticed, and it makes his nerves to go higher, but also his pants to go tighter. He feels her rubbings on his cock, the pulling on his hair, the licking on his lips. Seven heavens, this woman is something else.

She lets out a sharp moan, feeling his manhood poking her womanhood stoppless. Daera gulps, not wanting for lust to take over her mind, and she keeps kissing him with her head as empty as she can allows it to be.

Though Jace began to shyly squeeze her teat on his own, which sincerely took out another moan from her lips.

We can find prince Aemond, at the moment, walking around The Red Keep's bones, behind every wall and hallway, deep hidden from anyone's eyes.

Aemond went to his chambers after the talk he had with his grandfather, if it can even be called "a talk", for it was only Otto speaking about cautiousness, and reproaching, over a thousand times, his imprudent toast at the supper. He stayed on his rooms around fifteen minutes, in case someone else went looking for him, like his mother, or his own wife, Daera. Neither appeared.

So, after waiting that amount of time, he was the one who went to look for her, desperately. Aemond wrapped himself in his black leather coat, and entered the secret pasaageways of the castle, knowing his way very well around them.

He runs in circles around his mind, reviewing time after time what he is going to say to her. They have to talk about Vaemond Velaryon, his speech at dinner -he doesn't expect less-, why she was covered in blood this morning, and...Alyssa.

A moan. Aemond hears a moan. From a moment to another.

The prince stops short, his entire body suddenly tensing. Blinkless, he looks around with his big eye, feeling how his heart halted its beating within a second. That moan, easily recognizable for him, was Daera's.

It is now that the prince is starting to hear those sounds around him and, after a quick blink, he realized they were coming from back in the hallway, from one of the many rooms he is walking behind of. A snap after this realization, he hears another moan, but this one was male. Weak and pathetic.

Aemond loses no time. He makes no slow dramatic move. No. He firmly turned around, and walked with big long steps towards the place he was hearing those sounds from. Sadly, the closer he got, the more his body began to lose its steadiness, and began to shake entirely.

He was approaching to Jace's chambers, he noticed. The light of candles started to slightly reach his face as he walked closer to a wall of tiny holes, rhombus shaped. Through the infinity of holes, he could see a figure was leaning against it. No. Two figures. One of them of...of silver curly mane.

Aemond's legs failed for a brief second, and his eye, never blinking, opened bigger than ever. His heart broke, and his ears whistled with sharpness. The prince opens both his hands, placing them in the wall as he sees through it with a teary gaze, and an open mouth.

Right at the other side of the wall in which The One-Eyed Prince placed his hands in, princess Daera, his wife, shares a wild deep kiss with prince Jacaerys, her husband, while she makes him to grab her breasts. One of her hands is moving, right on his pants, touching him. They are both moaning, and they are both...looked at by him.

Aemond's blood stops flowing through his body, his head spins, and he becomes dizzy. He gets nauseous, it gives him a headache. His heart breaks.

He doesn't know what is happening, he feels helpless, and betrayed. What is betrayal, if not the cradle where rage and fury its born? What is rage, if not what he is the owner of, right now? What is fury, if not what blinds a man's eyes, and clouds his mind?

Bitter tears come up to his only eye. And, with them, the unleashing of his doom.

Not even with the slightest idea of her husband being right behind her, Daera keeps moaning, and keeps touching Jace with no shyness. The boy is feeling so good, flinching and groaning with every touch, whining when she bites his lips.

Everything would have turned out perfect, for her. She would have bed Jacaerys, and the security of her upcoming child would have been secured forever. But, alas, it seems that none of it was truly meant to be.

After another moan from the young prince, a sharp thud shook the chambers, suddenly. The wall where they were kissing and touching trembled abruptly, as if the strongest lightning had struck it, as if the maddest fists had lashed out at it in a single, but extremely violent punch.

-Oh!-, Jacaerys immediately flinches, separating from her lips. Daera jumped as well, grunting, for she felt the wall shaking right behind her head, hurting her.

-What the fuck?!-, she reacts with confusion, turning her gaze to look at the wall.

-What was that?-. Jace asks, startled, looking all around. His wife, on the other hand, fixed her eyes on the rhombus shaped holes-. Is the earth shaking?-, he fears, worried.

Daera's blood started to get cold, in the baddest of ways, and the saliva in her mouth dried all up. That stroke came from the secret passageways, she is sure, for she has walked through them a thousand times, right behind this very chamber. The princess thinks, telling to herself that there is only one more person who customs the secret passageways as much as she does.

Her real husband.

-Oh-, a thin squeal leaves her throat, and her legs started to shake-. Oh no, no!-. She weakly whispers, curving her brows, and then suddenly pushing Jacaerys away from her.

-Daera!-, he calls-. Are you alright? What is it?!-. He asks, worried, grabbing her shoulders.

Daera squeaks, getting his hands off her, and walking away from the wall, and from him, with a heavy uncontrolled breathing. She is pale, as far as possible, and her eyes filled with fear and anxiety.

-Daera!-, Jace insists, looking at her back.

-I- I must leave-. Her throat trembles as she speaks, and grabs it with nerves, lightly squeezing it.

Aemond saw us. Aemond saw us. Aemond saw me.

-I can't-, she whispers, voiceless, shaking her head.

-What?-. Jace curves his brows, not understanding anything.

In that very moment, a loud wild roar of a dragon shakes the wholeness of King's Landing. The Queen of All Dragons caused the fuss, as she opened her mouth big with rage and fury, letting out a great long squeal of distress.

Princess Daera opens her eyes big, and tears began to reach them as her body quickly ran towards the balcony of the chambers. Daera came out within a second, almost slipping out, but not caring, and immediately looking up at the sky.

Vhagar took off from the beach with angry fast flappings, quickly raising powerfully in the skies, and rapidly getting lost into the multiple grey clouds of the night.

-No-. Breathless, the princess Daera whined.

She turned around, and within a second she flee the chambers of her husband with no proper explanation. Jacaerys stood at the middle of his rooms in total shock, speechless, looking at the open door she left.

Still in Maegor's Holdfast, Daera quickly arrived to her apartments, closing the door and locking it while sobbing, mumbling a thousand nonsenses with extreme angst, feeling a heavy weight on her chest, and all of her body.

Without thinking it twice, the princess goes into the secret passageways, running as fastly as she can, not even allowing herself to breath. Her heart is beating so quick, and her calm from before is only a memory now, haunted by fears and worries. She goes through the passageways like a fish on water or, better said, like a dragon on the sky.

And, speking of such...

Daera had never reached the beach so quickly, but under this trying circunstances, she forced herself to do so, and she very much did, not caring about her breathing, or bare feet. She doesn't stops at any second, running wild and fast, making the sand to fade in the night's breeze as her soul runs savagely on it.

The Golden Ray is now alone at the bay, not having his usual companion, Vhagar, sleeping at his side anymore. Nevertheless, he is restless as well, and has been growling and shrieking anxiously since a few minutes now.

When Kalistrox saw his rider finally making act of presence in the beach, desperately running towards him, he let out a roar and, with hurry, approached towards her while shaking his golden long neck. At the same time, he lowered one of his wings to the ground, quickly asking her to jump in.

-Kalistrox!-. She names him with a squeal, not waiting anything to walk up his strong golden scales, reaching her saddle with teary eyes-. Fucking hells, fuck, fuck!-, her voice breaks as she sits down.

The dragon growls with restlessness and concern, shaking his neck again.

-Sovēs! [ Fly! ]-, the princess quickly commanded, holding tight to her saddle.

Kalistrox shows all of his long sharp teeth when he flapped his huge wings and, with a single flap, lifted all of his big body from the ground, taking off within a second. All the sand around was abruptly thrown against the black stone rocks of the surroundings. Some of that sand has been burned, since this morning.

Daera's chest comes up and down endlessly, while her eyes watered even more when the wind started to tickle them. She gulps, holding her saddle tight, convincing herself that everything will be alright, that she knows how to deal with Aemond. It is not, at all, the first time.

Kalistrox growls, going swiftly and quickly.

■ ■ ■

Lovers Island enjoys starry clear skies, at the moment, along a fresh tender breeze caressing the seas around, and the white sand of the island itseld. The palm trees are calmed, and the stone mountains at ease.

It is beyond a lovely night, definetely prettier than the past one, where it rained and flashed until dawn.

It's almost ironic, to not say cruel, for the latter ugly night of Lovers Island will turn out to be a far better one than this. We soon shall know why.

Prince Aemond is kneeled in the floors of the hut he and his wife made with their own hands. Right in front of him, barely some centimeters away, the fireplace burns with heat and life. A black cooking pot is placed on the fire and, in it, a white liquid already boils.

The prince is patch-less, and his blue sapphire reflects the fire on it. Said fire, at the same time, shines over the crystal tears he is endlessly crying. Aemond weeps with sorrow, looking at the pot as his body flinches, time after time, in the middle of his cry. His heart weights too much, as does his mind, thinking a thousand thoughts at once.

His head, how cruel it is, makes him repeat the scene of Jacaerys and Daera kissing against that wall, both of them moaning, and touching the other. No matter how much he repeats it in his memories, the prince still doesn't gets it.

Why? is a question constantly yelled in his thoughts. Why? Why? Why would she do this? Why would she be allowing herself to be touched by him? Why has this day go from bad, to merciless? Why him? Why me, to wield all this misery?

The sound of loud flapping reaches his ears, causing him to slowly raise his head. The prince gulps, knowing that Vhagar, after landing him in the island, immediately took off again, too stressed by his own stressed. His dragoness is away, he can feel, and so that only leaves one possible dragon arriving at the shores of the secret place.

The One-Eyed Prince opened the door of the hut with a shaky punch, leaving it wide opened as he walked outside with trembling legs, sobbing with distress. Though the island is totally dark, the fireplace of the insides lighted enough the surroundings.

The dragon arriving is no one but The Golden Ray, who landed with quickness, harshly clawing his paws to the sand. Aemond watches this with his chest coming up and down, and his tears only down.

When Kalistrox lowered his neck, the prince could see his rider weeping with anguish, hurriedly coming off her saddle. She, when seeing him too, sped up all her moves even more.

-Aemond-, she gasps as she walks down her dragon's wing-. Aemond, my love!-. Breathless, she starts running to him, barefoot.

Aemond can't even talk, crying just too hard, though he barely is making any sound. He shakes his head and presses his lips, closing his eye and taking a step back, not even wanting to look at her when remembering, again, Jace's hand on her body.

As his rider ran in the sand, Kalistrox growled, and raised from it with a big long flap, heading towards the skies while his huge heart beats with discomfort.

-I can explain it!-. The breathless princess says as she is getting closer to the hut's light. Her husband, red-faced, whimpers with weakness, looking down-. I was going to tell you, Aemond, I swear! This is not what it looks like!-, her crying voice promises, and she sighs shakily, approaching more to him-. My love-. She cooes, going to hold his cheeks.

But before her fingertips would do their usual magic on the prince's skin, this one hissed, and growled with pain, stepping away from her touch.

-You touched him!-, Aemond revealed to have a shaky broken voice, sharper than ever, making Daera's lungs to go breathless, and her brows to curve-. You kissed him, you FUCKED HIM!-, he yelled with despair, opening big his red teary eye.

-No no no, I didn't, I was going to!-. She immediately denies, giving him a broken smile. Aemond gasps, speechless-. I MEAN, NO- I was going to, yes, but- but! Let me explain myself! I swear this makes sense!-, Daera desperately stutters, shaking her head from side to side.

-During all this year, you have been...-, he starts to babble, bemused, feeling his legs failing. She gasps, quickly raising her brows-, you've been fucking your bast-

-I haven't!-. Daera steadfastly interrupted him, taking a step towards him, lifting her head to look at his eye-. Listen to me, Aemond, listen!-. She walks even closer, and her husband sobs, with his throat afflicted, looking at her with despair bathing on his tears-. I was going to tell you, and I was going to do it, yes-. The princess sighs with tiredness, lifting her brows-...For us-, she weakly whispers.

The prince blinks hugely, getting even more scared now, and more lost. Daera tsks her tongue and, afterwards, grabbed both his hands, taking them to her body. Then, they ended up on her belly, feeling it extreme warmness.

Both of them stare at each other. She, with softness. He, with fear.

-For our family-, the princess whispered, heartily. Her husband froze-. I must bed Jace, Aemond, to secure for me a prudent pregnancy...and the safeness of our daughter, or son-. Daera raises her brows, feeling his static fingers on her belly. Inevitably, she gulps, desperated for him to show any reaction-. I ain't doing it for desire!-, she quickly points, honest-. I am doing it for my love for you...and my love for our child-. She mutters with sincerity, and dearness, gripping his hands.

Up until this moment, Aemond had always believed that the worst wrong ever done to him was the merciless mutilation he suffered in the hands of the Strong bastards. Now, when the love of his life has shamelessly confessed to be completely willing to sleep with one of the bastards, to fool him into believing he sired her child, Aemond's believings have changed.

Daera furrows her brows, and her eyes flicker when she feels Aemond's hands departing abruptly from her belly, and sees his body trembling when he gasped in a desperate search of air.

-Aemond-. She names, worried.

The tears began to burn his skin, and the realization his mind. The prince realizes that his wife has known. During all this time. She has known he was to sire a bastard.

-If we could just...go inside-. Daera softly whispers, approaching to him-. We can talk it better in there, its freezing out here-. She says, raising her brows, and seeing him trembling-. I can cook you some sou-

-WHO ARE YOU?!-. Aemond yelled with fury and a shaky throat, abruptly turning to look at her with mad eyes.

Daera freezes in that moment, shocked, opening her eyes big. A roar was heard from Kalistrox, in the skies about. Her heart starts to pound with fear, and confusion. Who is she? What does that even means? How dares he?

-All- all these years! All the shit I have told you that has been done to me! Everything I have said to you!-. Her husband starts to shout, his usual soft voice turned into a sharp raspy one, that of a desperate man-. YOU know how much I have suffered, YOU know everything that has been plucked away from me! And...-, Aemond shakes, as his tears soak the sand below-, AND YOU WANT TO GIVE ME A BASTARD?!-. The prince nearly kneeled when he screamed that, pointing at himself furiously.

Daera's body tremble, but her eyes remain as sober as possible. Breath, she tells herself. It is not the first time dealing with her husband's mindset.

-I carry no bastard-. She simply denies, almost whispering. Aemond breathes fastly in front of her, if he is breathing at all-. You are married to me, and I am married to you. And I will give you a fucking proper child, Aemond-. Her harsh voice states.

-You just said you MUST fuck the wastrel so that no one know I AM the real father of it!-. Aemond reminded with a loud tone, opening his eye big-. THAT, in your belly, IS A BASTARD !-. He heartlessly pointed at her.

Matters to say, it is not either Aemond's first time messing with his wife's mindset. Much she kept herself from exploding too. Until now.

-WHAT THE FUCK IS YOU PROBLEM?!-. Daera shouted with rage. More tears gather in her purple eyes, which are looking at him with hurt and bemusement-. THIS...!-, she grabs her belly with a trembling hand-, is a child! MY child!-. The princess sobs as she walks closer to him, and he shakes his head, feeling it twirling-. Ours!-. Her voice whimpers with despair, curving her brows.

-Ow, fucking hells, DAERA!-. The prince roared desperately, closing his eye and stepping away from her, grabbing his head in the middle of his sobs.

-Yes, I- WE will have to pretend that the babe is Jace's! I am sorry! I too wish things would be different, Aemond, believe me that I do!-. She screams with a broken angry heart, looking for his gaze-. But THIS is our reality, the reality in which we agreed to have a child! WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU EXPECTING?!-, Daera yelled loudly, hurting her throat when doing so, wanting him to see the truth.

Aemond opened his mouth, as if he has been about to scream, but air left his lungs, and he whined with weakness, closing his eye, and squeezing his face with his hands under the tearful, upset gaze of his worried wife.

-I have been stupid...-, the prince weeps with shame-, fooled by the fake dream that I could be a father-, he confesses, sinked in sorrow.

-No, no-. Daera sobs, curving her sweaty brows as she hears Kalistrox's strong flappings from the sky-. You can be, Aemond, you can be a parent-. The princess whines, tired, slowly approaching to him-. We can...despite the circunstances-, Daera whispered, looking at the tears hanging on his pointy jaw-...We wouldn't be the first ones-. She brokenly smiles, with hope.

However, her husband brokenly sobbed, and turned his face to look at her, with glum.

-Who are you?-. He repeats, once again, not believing this is his Daera speaking.

His Daera's heart sinked deeper on her chest.

-I AM YOUR FUCKING WIFE!-. She yelled with pain and despair. He keeps treating her like she is insane, like she is the worst person in the world, when all she has done is been the best companion to him, the best listener and comforter. She only wants but a child of him, the purest demonstration of their love. Why is he treating her like this, then? Heartless-. Stop looking at me like that!-. Daera sobbed with weakness, punching his chest with her trembling hands-. I am your wife!-, she repeats, hurted.

-And I love you-, he cries, painful, shaking his head-. But now I am seeing, wife, clearer than ever...-. Aemond covers his mouth for a second, sobing on his hand-...that you indeed are one of them-, the prince declares.

-"Them" who?!-. Daera roars, pushing him again by the chest.

-The law breakers!-. Aemond roars back, seeing blurry due to all of his tears. His wife sighs, breathless, nearly confused, looking at his eye-. You are your father's daughter, no doubt!-, he scoffs, bemused-. Your uncle was coldly murdered today for telling the truth and you- you- you- YOU JUST DON'T CARE!-. The prince accuses with a loud desperate roar, which echoed along the whole island.

Kalistrox roared, menacing, and within a second, Daera did so too.

-HE brought that to his fucking self!-. She yells with her eyes big open, not doubting of her words, remembering all the insults towards her family-. He was reckless!-, she hisses.

-HE WAS TRYING TO SAVE HIS HOUSE!-. Aemond screams, and she scoffs, blinkless-. A house you make fucking part of!! How can you be so cruel?!-, the prince yells, soaked in tears of despondent.

-It is not cruel to protect my family, nor is defending it!-. She instantly defends herself, steady, taking a step forwards-. And if some cunt has to die for that to be achieved, then the cunt must fucking burn!-. Daera roars with fierceness, tilting her head to a side.

Aemond opens his mouth, speechless, his heart almost stopping. Daera sees that face of him, and laughs.

-Ow please, PLEASE, spare the fucking act, husband!-. She hissed from a moment to another, making him to flinch-. Am I my father's daughter? Very well, then you are your mother's fucking son!-. The princess spat her words with poison and quickness, not taking any breath-. Little you talk about your stupid brother! That bloody useless rapist!-. She roars, shaking the arms in where she has the long ugly wounds the same rapist left in her-. Little you talk of the craven your mother is, hiding beneath her cloak all of her son's monstrosities, as the coward she is!-. The princess grunts with taunt and no shame, clenching her teeth.

In that moment, the prince became truly outraged.

-SHUT UP!-. He shouted, as spoiled as his older brother, and his wife laughed once again, taunting him, proving her point. He will not allow it-. You have no right!!-, Aemond hisses, pointing at her, and not even giving her a chance to speak-. STOP DISRESPECTING MY MOM, STOP MOCKING MY RELIGION! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!-. He starts to scream as wild as a peasant on a brothel. His wife's face truly started to get sour, breathing everytime faster before all of his screams to her-. STOP FEELING SO FUCKING ENTITLED TO FUCKING EVERYTHING!-, Aemond roared with madness.

-HOW DARE YOU COMPLAIN TO ME, WHEN IT WAS YOU WHO DID YOUR FUCKING SHOW AT THE FUCKING DINNER, YOU RECKLESS IDIOT?!-. Daera exploded as madly as him, hissing with no breath and, once again, pushing him, now harsher than before. Aemond grunts, closing his fists at the sides of his body-. JESTING ABOUT OUR MARRIAGE, INSULTING MY BROTHERS! YOU-

-AND HERE WE GO, defending them again!-. Aemond laughs with no fun, just as she did before.

-"Strong boys"?! Are you fucking shitting me, Aemond?!-. Daera moves her head from side to side, bemused-. Do you know what my father would have done to you?!-, she asks, scared and angry.

-Daera- FUCK!-. The prince yells, raged, feeling his whole body trembling. The fury caused by hearing Daera defending the brats is one that is beyond compare-. That is the problem, that something happens to the ones that say the bloody truth!-. Aemond roars, filled of despair-. They have you...as their fucking marionette, defending the indefensible-. He taunts with poison.

-Shut the fuck up, Aemond-. She warns, raising her brows. His blood only boils hotter.

-No but they deserve so much more of what I said...That fucking whore's bastards-. Aemond spits his words, narrowing his eye, and making his wife to shiver strongly-. I...-, he shakes his head-...I want to set them on fire-. He whispered.

-Aemond-, she gags, breathless-. Take that back-. The princess mumbles, not blinking once, feeling her heart stopping before the nightmare that flashes in front of her eyes.

He, though, dreams with that nightmare to be true.

-I want to crash Jace's skull, with Ser Criston's morningstar-. Aemond whispers, filled with poison, looking at her. Daera gasps, curving her brows, horrified-. I want to collect everything they owe me-. The prince assures.

-I DARE YOU!-, she shakes with rage and fear, lifting up her brows. She, then, wondered herself why she is feeling that much fear? Does she...believes him capable?

-I want to take an eye out of Luke's face-, Aemond goes whispering, singing, almost smiling to himself while his wife gasps stopless, choking with her own saliva.

-If you put a hand in him...!-, she cries, covering her mouth while the tears pass it.

-Every time I see him, Daera, I just wished I was maiming him until blindness, to leave him so emaciated that not even a sapphire would fits there...-This was his calmest tone of the night, yet so bone-chilling, and gross.

-WHO ARE YOU?!-. The princess screamed, attacking him with his own raving question. That made Aemond's tears to fall faster, and his gaze to fill with surprise-. You- YOU LIVE FOR VENGEANCE! Son of a bitch, YOU LIVE WITH HATE!-, she painly accuses.

-AND YOU WITHOUT HONOR!-, he accuses her back, crying endlessly.

-Well that is how you married me!-. Daera points with her shaky voice. Her throat aches, as well as her chest-. And how I married you as well!-, she sniffs her nose, shaking-. Like it or not, that is how we will have our child, Aemond-. She states, weak but firm, lifting her sweaty brows.

Aemond sobs, staring at the love of his life with sourness, exhaustion...and pity.

-No-, he thinly whispers, starting to take some steps back-...No we won't-. The prince murmurs, turning around, and going into the hut, without announcement.

The princess Daera stays in the same place, shaking, sobing, confused. Her mind is empty, and her heart heavy. The heat of the discussion being so suddenly interrupted left her with no thoughts. She just trembles, alone in there.

Her dragon, Kalistrox, keeps flying around the skies of the island with similar feelings. To be honest, The Golden Ray is rather anxious. He is more than familiar with the discussions his rider has with her husband, they are more than usual. However, this one feels entirely different, so different that he just wants for his dearest to climb on the saddle, to take her away from here. Her husband, familiar to him as well, is acting extremely weird. And he doesn't like it. And where is even Vhagar, in all of this, the man's dragon? Far from his stress and madness, he'd wager.

Vhagar did good in flying away, for she didn't witness what is about to happen. Kalistrox, on the other hand -the princess's poor golden boy-, had no idea of what was to come.

After some moments, Aemond walks out of the hut again. He goes with wary slow steps, his teary gaze down, his thin lips pressed. And a steaming cup on his hands.

Daera's legs trembled within the second.

-No-, the princess says, voiceless-. No, Aemond-. She takes a step back, afflicted.

The prince stops in front of her, still looking down, not having the strength to look at her eyes. He opens his dry trembling lips, not breathing through them.

-Drink it-. He whispered, with his voice broken.

-No, no! No, please!-. In that moment, the princess's whole spirit breaks in two, as well as her soul and heart did-. No, no!-. Her throat aches.

Aemond gulps, handing her the cup. Handing her the Moon Tea.

-PLEASE!-. Daera fell on her knees when she shrieked, not holding herself anymore, not even being able to breath properly anymore-. I want to have my child! I want to have my child!-, she cries brokenly, placing her hands in the sand, and gripping it with force.

The prince gulps, once again, keeping every sound for himself, listening to his wife's cry as his heart, too, breaks in a million pieces. But he must do this. She must.

Aemond kneels as well, in front of her, so mechanically, handing her the cup again, pressing his shaking lips. Breathless, Daera looks at him, with a pain and sorrow greatest than any.

And when she finds him there, with that cursed drink, and those sad but "duty" eyes, she let out a sharp desperate shriek, taking the cup, and throwing it very far away from them.

-NO!-, she yelled.

The cup flew in the air until crashing against a rock from the beach. All the Moon Tea ended up in The Narrow Sea, quickly swimming away from all the despair and anguish of that island.

Aemond just blinked, and stood up, walking back to the hut again. From there, he heard his wife weeping, screaming and pleading from the sand with no end. The prince stumbled on his way, and leaned his forehead against a wall, letting out a silent sorrowful cry, grabbing his own chest with desperation, feeling it so heavy, and shattered.

-Please don't make me do it! Don't make me do it, Aemond, PLEASE! PLEASE, I AM BEGGING YOU!-. Princess Daera had never cried so loudly, so broken and ugly, twitching in the sand as she finds no scape from this feeling.

She had never pleaded before.

-...You allowed me to get you with child, knowing what that would mean...-. Aemond's weak voice gets closer again, and she can hear his steps while she cries and yells-...and you didin't tell me-. He stated, exhausted.

-The- THE BABE WOULD LOOK LIKE ME!-. Daera lifted up her face with despair, and a last hope, clinging to his legs when having him in front of her. Aemond stands stiff, with a new steaming cup in his hands-. I swear it- she- she would look only and just like me! Velaryon genes are stronger! Brown skin, curly hair- I SWEAR IT, AEMOND, PLEASE!-. The princess cries with a lump in her throat, feeling almost unable to talk. His lips tremble, while he watches her sobing weak wife from above-. PLEASE!-, she weeps and whines-. No one will know!-, Daera promises.

-I will!-. Aemond's shaky crying voice answered her. His tears are falling on her cheeks, mixing with her own-. And I- and I have the right to ask you this, because I didn't know, Daera, I didn't! And- and I am...!-. He was about to apologize, but then considered it useless-. I want children, NOT BASTARDS!-. The prince stated, strongly closing his eye.

With that, the princess definitely felt any hope leaving her body. Helpless, she is. Has she been the fool, then, dreaming about this? Was she so wrong, as her husband points her to be...for wanting a family of her own? For wanting...his family?

With the weakest will of the Seven Kingdoms, Daera took the cup from his hands, with her own, trembling. She whines shakily as she gets the cup near to her lips, her dry tired lips. Aemond watches her with endless tears, mouth fully closed.

-Alyssa...-, the saddest weep left her soul. And then, she began to drink it all.

When he started to hear all the gulps, and when he heard his daughter's name, Aemond trembled, and he abruptly turned around, walking long steps away from her.

-Aemond!-, her broken voice calls his name. He ignored it.

He covered his face with both his hands, burying himself in silence, only hearing the endless cries and whines his wife is yelling to the skies when she takes breath to keep drinking the tea. Cries and whines from her he ignored, for the first time ever, for four reasons.

He is convinced this is the right thing to do. He resents the image of her and Jacaerys. He has been dumbly fooled into this. He has all the right to regret it.

Ow, Aemond...when you look back at this night, and recall your own claimings and words, how great the price will be to see...that you were wrong.

A sound brought him out of his thoughts. Another cup, breaking again. The prince turns around, tiredly and slowly, just to find the cup all broken in the sand, with not one drop of tea left in it. She drank it all.

And when he looks upper, his remaining breath left him before the surprise of seeing Kalistrox back in land again, purring worrily towards his rider as she, sobbing, walks to him, almost crawling.

-...Dae-Daera?-. The prince calls, voiceless, slowly turning around.

In the middle of thin weeps, Daera is nearly dragging herself in the sand, holding her own belly while she approaches to her dragon with weak steps. Tired, heart-broken, and now child-less, the princess feels she is melting into the ground with every step she takes.

-Kalistrox-, she weakly calls, looking at him beyond the heavy tears on her eyes. Her golden sweetheart purrs with sorrow, approaching in the sand to make her walk less.

-Daera!-. Her husband calls her with hurry, and a shaky voice, as he turns around, and begins to walk towards her with quickness.

Ignoring him completely, Daera sobs as she climbs Kalistrox's wings up, feeling his scales poking against her bare feet, but she endures it with no pain, already too hurted anyways. She sniffes her nose, reaching her saddle as the tears get her dragon's back wet.

-Daera, no, wait!-. Aemond starts to run when he sees her taking seat-. Daera!-, he tried to reach her.

But The Golden Ray is a jealous dragon, deeply bonded to his rider, and so within a second he faced the prince with his mouth open and a sharp broken roar coming out of it, menacing and harsh, seriously warning him to back off just with the sight of his long shap teeth, and the stains of blood and ash in them.

Shaking, Aemond gasped and walked back with his throat afflicted, seeing his wife unfazed by the menace of her dragon towards her husband. Oblivious to it, she kept crying, and held her saddle tighter.

-Don't leave me alone, please, we need to talk this!-. Aemond insists with despair, and then the golden dragon started to crawl in the sand with quickness, getting ready to take off-. No no, NO, DAERA, DON'T LEAVE!-. He pleads desperately, opening his eye big, and walking backwards-. WE NEED TO TALK IT!-, he begged, heart-broken.

But the princess is too weak at the moment, and unfamiliar to her husband's latter acts of cruelness. Is she to fault, by desiring to leave their talk for later? She is not.

She turns around her face, looking at him for the last time. His skin is red, his eye desperated, his sapphire sad, his lips trembling, his voice begging, his body exhausted, his mind blinded. His all...driven by resentment.

-DAERA!-, she heard, lastly, a cry from him.

Afterwards, Kalistrox took off the island, and within a second he rised in the skies with strong flappings, and heavy-hearted growls, listening to the unstoppable cry of the girl on his back.

That left prince Aemond by himself, in Lovers Island.

He fell on his knees when the golden dragon disappeared from the sight of his only eye. In him, a broken cry lashed out from the bottom of his soul. His fists started to punch the sand, time after time, crying two names to the skies.

Daera, and Alyssa.

He doesn't know how many time he stayed whining in there. He doesn't count how many tears he cried, for that would be impossible. He doesn't know how many curses he threw against the bastards, nor how many prayings he yelled to the gods.

One thing is for sure. Prince Aemond Targaryen fell in the sand, fainted by exhaustion. And when he woke up, he woke up in a new world.

One of war.

■ ■ ■

Again, this night has been too long.

It has been barely two hours since the supper ended, and perhaps a little less. The ship of Princess Rhaenyra and her family is already being prepped in Blackwater Bay, for they are leaving within an hour, back to their dear home, Dragonstone.

The princess Helaena is at a room not proper of hers. She is in Daera's chambers, quietly seated on her bed, expecting for her cousin's arrival while she plays with her fingers, silent, always looking around.

The children, Jahaerys and Jahaera, are with their grandmother in her apartments. Queen Alicent is reading them their usual night time tale, tenderly rocking them in her arms as she reads to them. Afterwards, she will put them to bed, and then go to attend to her husband's own night rutine, for he is being bathed, at the moment, by the masesters.

Helaena, as we know, usually makes company to her children while they are with their grandma. But, in this night, after the supper, she feels that something weird is happening, or will happen. Either way, she came to Daera's chambers, for something tells her that it has to do with her and, besides, they haven't talked in the whole long day.

When the secret doorway of the room is suddenly open, Helaena jumped in the bed, immediately turning to look at there. She was not expecting, at all, to find Daera arriving with such a glum casted on her. Her cousin walked inside in the middle of a crying that it seems it has lasted years, and with steps so weak that it seems she is about to faint.

Helaena's eyed dyes of concern. She didn't wait a second to stand up and quickly run towards her, curving her brows, and looking at her sweaty ones.

-Daera-, she names with worries while she approaches. Then, she notices the long red wounds that are placed in both her arms-. Oh- oh Daera!-, the princess gasps, nearing even quicker to her.

Daera mouthed no word and, instead, she let her body fell into her cousin's arms, not holding herself any longer. Helaena wept with sorrow, instantly hugging her into her arms as tightly as possible, grasping to her as if she was tearing apart, whispering her name a thousand times.

-Daera, Daera, ow Daera...-. The older princess murmurs as she hugs her. Daera cries in her chest with no stop, sinked in pain, hugging her waist tightly, not having the strength to talk.

Helaena asked nothing. She grabed her hands, and started to guide her towards the bed. Daera walked with weariness, but was always held by her cousin's hands, which gave them the strength enough to reach her mattress. When arriving to it, both princesses threw themselves in.

They ended up face to face, with the hands of one in the back of the other, keeping close. Red-faced, Helaena watches Daera's so hurted expression. She is in a true deep pain, which worries her endlessly. Too bad with words, she tries to calm her instead by caressing her hair, doing it as softly as an angel would.

Weakly, Daera blinks in the middle of her weep, noticing Helaena's light tears, which came up to her eyes at the moment of seeing her crying. The brown skinned princess sighs, weary.

-Helaena...-she whispers lowly, placing a hand behind her head, to cup it with her five fingers. The older princess, blinkless, stares at her eyes with her lips open, attentive-. You...-, Daera gulps, ashamed-...you will be aunt no more...-. She, then, confesses, falling in a greater pain.

When the news reached Helaena's ears, the princess didn't hold long a broken sob scaped her mouth, one of confussion and sadness. And not too long after, she was crying as desperately as her cousin, the both of them joining the other on weak whines and sour tears, almost like being one.

■ ■ ■

In Flea Bottom, the night life is at its peak. The streets are filled with people who dance, fight, eat and fuck. The music is loud, as well as the laughs and the screams.

People walk all around from one place to another, doing good things, doing what things, who knows. Between all of them, the prince Aegon Targaryen goes with tired eyes, a drunk smile, a bottle of ale on his hand, and a paramour's hand on the other, but we are not to attend to his matters right now.

At The House of The Roses, in The Street of Silk, moans and grunts of full pleassure go through all the walls of the fine establishment, for the whores are giving to the lords and peasants what they live -and pay- for: cunts.

Dyana heartily ignores so much sound as much as she can. In her private room, she covers her face with her pillow, trying to mute the disgusting sounds that are coming from everywhere. Eternally thankful, though, she is for not being among them.

The mistress of the place, Tulia, was true to her word to the princess. No man has touched not even seen the young girl, Dyana, and she has been properly fed since then as well.

Some knocks from the door turned to be louder than the moans, so the girl immediately hears them, lightly furrowing her brows. Shy, she walks towards her door, not knowing who might be on the other side. For a moment, her mind tricked her into think it was prince Aegon, making her to shiver.

-Who is it?!-. She asks, with a nervous tone.

-We come on the behald of Princess Daera Targaryen, who has asked for your presence at the royal harbour!-. The firm voice of a man answered her from the other side.

Dyana blinks slowly, moveless. She gulps, and speaks again.

-Which is the secret word?-. She asks, firmly.

The princess and the girl, indeed, arranged to have a secret passcode for when the former sends her guards to look for her. A word that only the princess herself could have said to the guards, meaning that they were truly hers.

The man on the other side sighed tiredly, and then he spoke.

-Cunny-, he said with shame.

In that moment, Dyana's eyes lighted up with the greatest of happiness and trusts, immediately opening the doors with a surprised chuckle of relief.

And so, the Lord Commander of the City Watch, Ser Harrold Westerling, gives her a soft sided smile.

It was a matter of time until Dyana was walking out of that brothel with only a small bag carrying her few belongings. The girl walked out with a shiny smile on her face, and four guards of Targaryen armours followed her every step with firmness, along the Lord Commander.

This is being watched at, from a very safe distance, by a pair of very cautious and curious eyes. A thin tall lady of exotic eyes, beautiful face, and a long white gown, looks at the girl being scorted by those royal guards. The happiness on her face doesn't have a price.

Our mysterious lady, The White Worm, narrows her eyes as she analyzes the girl's departure.

-An this all orchestrated by The Dragon's Goodness herself then, is it?-. The exotic accent in her voice asks with interest.

-Yes, my lady...-. The voice of another woman answers behind her.

-And the bodies of those three?-. She tilts her head to a side.

-...There is burned sand in the beach, my lady-. She is answered.

The White Worm furrows her lips into a very tiny smirk, and her eyes narrowed with curiosity, silently nodding.

■ ■ ■

Not too long after, two wheelhouses were coming out of The Red Keep. In one, go the servants and midwives that had joined princess Rhaenyra from Dragonstone. In the other, the princess goes with the lot of her family.

The sky is at its darkest color of the night, for the dawn is still hours away.

The whole family looks exhausted and weary, and they are not to blame, for this two days in the capital definitely were some busy and tiring ones. They are all sleepy, to be honest, though Joffrey and the twins are straight out snoring, shameless.

Before leaving, the kids only said their goodbyes to their grandma, the princess Rhaenys, who would be staying another day in The Keep. The older sister as well kissed goodbye princess Helaena and her godschildren, promising them to be back within two days.

As a matter of fact, princess Daera was actually asked -dearly by Helaena, and politely by Alicent- to simply stay in the castle instead of going back to Dragonstone just to return so instantly, to not tire herself. However, the princess kindly refused the offer, alleging that she wanted to see her family to arrive well. This is a half truth, for she also wants at least those days to be by herself, aparted from Aemond, to think about all the things she has to think of, and to have her sorrows in the privacy of her true home. She will be returning with Rhaenyra, and then she'll treat with Aemond, already with a cold head.

In the royal carriage, Daemon rocks his son, Aegon, with calm, having his eyes closed. Rhaena's head is on Luke's shoulder, resting in there, and he is with his head on hers, also reclined in her. Rhaenyra has Baela's head near her chest, where she calmly breathes, and in Baela's legs Joffrey sleeps with comfort. Jace, slouched, has his arms crossed, and at his side, Daera has Viserys hugged to her chest, rocking him.

The whole family is silent, at the moment, desiring to be abed already. Daera wears a long-sleeved blouse, rare of her, but because she is hiding the wounds of her arms. Her eyes are lost in some blank point, and her eyes shows nothing but dejection. With her heart broken, and an empty belly, the princess's mind bathes in sadness. She can't take Aemond's words and actions out of her head.

Without her knowledge, Jace is constantly eyeing her, silent and shy. He still has no clue of what happened, before in his chambers, when lust suddenly left her, and she became all histeric, just to then leave running. When he saw her again, when all the family gathered to leave, she gave him nothing but a crooked smile and a soft caress in his back. No explanation. And now he sees a sad glim on his wife's eyes, which has him deeply worried, and confused.

In one moment of the trip, Rhaenyra inhales deeply through her nose, raising her brows.

-I think it will be the best for the babes to go in the ship-. She informs, caressing one of Baela's hand-. The night is too cold, for me to take them in Syrax-. The princess adds, and her husband nods in silence, agreeing-...I shall go with them-, she sighs with a little smile, eyeing her twins.

-We'll enjoy your company-, Rhaena smiles at her. She'll be returning home in the ship as well, not in Caraxes's back with her father, as she arrived before.

After hearing his mom, Luke gives slow blinks, thoughtful. He thinks about how, now without a doubt, he'll be the future Lord of The Tides, successor of his grandsire, the legendary Sea Snake. If he wants to fill his shoes, even though he believes he can't, he has to start with something.

-I shall go in the ship as well-. Lucerys informs, surprising most. Daera got out of her thoughts immediately, furrowing her brows a little.

-Very well then-, his mother agrees with a side smile.

-Are you certain, Luke?-. A soft whisper from his older sister, at his side, makes him to slightly clench his jaw, looking down-. You know you get easily greensick-, she murmured, doubty.

-I am most than certain-. He answers with confidence, nodding. Daera curves her brows, sighing.

-Well, perhaps I shall join you too-. She tries to smile, tilting her head.

-No-. Luke denied within the second, almost trembling. Everybody goes speechless-. I can by myself!-. He stated as firm as he could, not looking at her.

Rhaenyra blinks hugely, staring at her son with confusion, while the others gulped and kept silent, leaving the boy with his decision.

When he answered her like that, Daera simply looked away, slowly. She feels her heart aching, as well as her belly, not understanding why he had to talk to her like that. Why is everybody treating her this way?, her already sad mind complained. The princess looks down at her arms, finding the innocent and beautiful babe in there. Viserys. Daera fights against tears that fighted back to come to her eyes, sour and tired ones. Oh, Alyssa...

Moments later, the royal carriage made its first stop. The royal harbour.

-Alright, this is us-. Rhaena sighs, being the first one in standing up. Luke quickly followed, pressing his lips.

While Daera stood up with carefulness, holding Viserys while opening the carriage's doors, Rhaenyra also stood up, and headed to her husband with her hands opened.

-Hmm-, Daemon hums lowly, carefully handing her Aegon.

-There we go-, Nyra cooes with tenderness, taking the babe, and leaning front to the prince-. I'll see you later-, she whispers.

-Yeah-, The Rogue Prince mumbles, giving a quick lovely kiss of farewell to his wife, who smiled to him with warmth.

-There-, Daera hands Viserys to Rhaena, who takes with with care, hugging him to her chest-. Alright-, she sighs, turning around, and coming down of the carriage with a single jump.

-Wait- where are you going?-. Baela asks with confusion, having Joffrey still sleeping on her legs.

-I will receive someone in here-. Daera informs, making her family to blink with curiosity, except Jace, who already know what she's talking about-. I'll head to the beach from here, anyways, Kalistrox is there-. She reminds, helping Rhaenyra to walk down the stairs.

-Right-, her step-mother nods with interest, caressing her belly. Daera glanced at it for a quick second, gulping.

-See you in Dragonstone!-. Rhaena waves her hand to the carriage, while she and Luke, carrying both twins, head towards their ship.

-See you!-. Baela farewells with a tired smile, while Daemon briefly waved his hand too towards them.

From his seat, Jace stares at Daera with his lips open, wanting to say something to her, anythinh. She, after sighing, looks back at him, and creates a tiny smile in her closed mouth.

-I'll meet you in the skies-, the princess says towards her family. And after her father hummed, she closed the doors with a light push.

Afterwards, the carriage is again pulled by the horses, going away. Baela, Jace, Joffrey and Daemon now are heading to the Dragonpit, where they'll mount Moondancer, Vermax, Tyraxes and Caraxes to fly back home.

The royal harbour is some quiet nice place, where only the sailors are around besides the family, getting ready the last tiny details for the royal family to set sail. The seas are calm, and the sky starry.

Daera stays firmly standing, in silence, crossing her hands over her belly, and keeping a weary face. Luke and Rhaena walked to the ship with the twins, being accompanied by the loyal midwives, Relia and Joveth.

Rhaenyra planned to follow their path. But, honestly, how could her? It was not hard to notice the sadness on her older step-daughter's face. Generally, Daera is good at hiding her true emotions, but at the moment she is just so tired and burned out that she has forgotten about keeping her face masked, which made her step-mother's heart to ache.

-Daera...-, Nyra's voice gets closer, causing the girl to flicker briefly, turning her head to look at her.

-Uh, yeah?-. Daera forces a smile, tilting her head.

-I see your sadness, child-. The older princess confesses as she approaches. Daera opens her lips, surprised-...Has something happened?-, she asks, so softly, arriving in front of her.

The brown-skinned girl blinks with exhaustion, looking down. Her momentary weakness allowed tears to gather in her eyes, especially when she glanced at the bulged belly of The Heir. Six months in, what a marvel. For a brief time, Daera truly hoped she could have the joy of that, of bearing a child of the man she loves. But turned out he suddenly desired he didn't want the same, and made her to...get rid of it.

Daera presses her lips strongly, afflicting her throat with sorrow. Rhaenyra instantly flickered, furrowing her brows with worry.

-I just...-the young princess sniffs her nose, gulping-...I just have been thinking about my mother-. With a thin voice, and a heavy feeling, she says a half true-. You know that I, all of a sudden, am thinking of her...from time to time...-, she whispers.

Rhaenyra blinks, sighing briefly. There are times -most of them- when she truly forget she is not the mother of Daemon's daughters. She has tended to Daera, Baela and Rhaena since they were all little girls, the older eleven, and it would be a lie to say that she doesn't feels they are her own.

But, keeping those thoughts to herself, she draws a small sad smile on her lips, slowly taking the girl's hands in hers, making her to look up again.

-I, too, am always thinking about my mother-. Rhaenyra confesses with a soft whisper, staring at her teary eyes-. I, too, miss her much, days and nights...-, she nods, heartily.

Daera gulps, holding herself as much as she can from starting to cry her soul out in mere harbour. She gives her a little smile, one that Nyra answered with dearness, caressing her hands.

-There would be no problem, at all, if you wish to join us in the ship-. The Heir mumbles with easiness, shrugging. Daera blinks, almost convinced, opening her lips-. There are still left some biscuits of your grandma, and...we'll boil tea, to make them some company, what do you say?-. Rhaenyra warmly smiles, tilting her head.

The mention of tea made the princess to instantly back down, shivering, for she immediately thought about the boiling Moon Tea her husband made her to drink. Now that she thinks of it, it seems that he had already prepared it, before she even arrived and before they even began to discuss about the child, because the tea was boiling as if it had just been taken from the fire.

-Umm-, Daera gulps strongly, furrowing her lips-. Um, no, no, I rather fly with Kalistrox-. She affirms, gulping again, and forcing a smile-. I want to...uh, arrive as soon as possible, to finally sleep-. She lets out a brief giggle, raising her brows.

-Very well-. Rhaenyra agrees with easiness, caressing her hands-. But, if you wish to speak about our mothers, or anything at all, when we arrive home...know that we can do it-. She tenderly whispered to her, taking a step forward.

Daera stares at her with a tired smile, silently nodding. It is not to doubt, that the relationship between she and Rhaenyra changed completely after the day she became the mother of her baby brothers, when she stood by her side in the birthing bed at all moments. Nyra's easiest childbirth ever.

-Thank you...-, the young princess whispers.

Rhaenyra reads her face with the dearest of smiles, sighing in silence through her nose.

-Princess Daera, princess Rhaenyra-. The voice of the Lord Commander made both Targaryen women turn around, still holding hands-. Your ward, princess-. Harrold nods towards the younger.

With him, a young blond girl of green eyes stands with nerves, and a shy smile, looking at Daera. She instantly smiled back at her, while Rhaenyra tilted her head with curiosity.

-Thank you very much, Ser Harrold-. Daera smiles to him, and he nods, also with a little smirk-. You may go now, Ser, I'll see you in two days-. She dismisses him with gentleness.

-Arrive well, my princesses-. The Lord Commander nods, to then turn around, and walk out from the royal harbour.

-Pri-princesses...-, timidly, Dyana bows her head to them. She carries in her hand a dirty small white bag.

-No need, sweetling-. Daera speaks with softness, and then she shares a look with Rhaenyra, who raises her brows with interest-. This is Dyana-, she introduces her with a smile.

-Dyana-, Nyra smiles towards the girl, curious.

-If it pleases you-, she is fast to say, smiling nervously.

-Dyana will be joining us to Dragonstone-. Daera informs to her step-mother-. Hands are never not of need-, she adds, softly speaking.

-We agree-. Rhaenyra mumbles, knowing that there is obviously more story to this girl, but she decided to keep her curiosity for another moment-. Come, let me take you to our ship-. Gentle, she nods towards her.

Briefly, Dyana glances at the younger prince, who nods with a little smile to her. Afterwards, the young girl gulps, excited, and starts to walk with The Heir to The Iron Throne, guided by her.

-Is this all you bring with you, sweetheart?-. Rhaenyra softly asks, placing a hand on her back, and looking at the small bag.

-Uh, yes, princess-. Dyana answers, shyly.

-That is alright...-, The Heir smiles at her.

Daera breathes deeply in, filling her lungs with the fresh air of the night, giving herself strength. Then, she nods, turning around, and beginning to walk in the opposite direction to the ship, staring forwards.

Rhaenyra turned her head for a second to look at her. And, from the boat, Lucerys also looked at his older sister, seeing her walking away without looking back. He gulps, already feeling greensick.

Once again, Daera is now walking through the beach, with the wind blowing all her hair and skirt as she walks forwards at all times. Tears are rolling her cheeks down, again, but her face is made of stone, and her jaw clenched.

Little does she knows what is about to happen.

Kalistrox growls with familiarness as he sees her approaching, already offering her his wing.

Little does she knows this is not the worst pain she had felt.

Daera breathes with steadiness as the tears roll down her face, and she takes seat in her saddle, fiercely.

Little does she know that she has yet to have the most painful loss of her life.

Luke sees at the sails hoisting. Rhaena cooes the twins with a smile. Rhaenyra rubs her belly. Baela caresses Moondancer's neck. Daemon smirks when he sees Caraxes. Jace mounts Vermax with confidence. Helaena brushes her hair in her balcony. Jaehaerys babbles in her knees. Rhaenys sleeps in her chambers. Aemond lies, fainted, in Lovers Island.

Little does she knows...how stained her hands will be.

Kalistrox let out a sharp mighty roar when he rised in the skies with power, flapping his big golden wings as his rider holds her saddle with force and strength, going with her lips opened, and her eyes tearfully serious.

When that mighty roar shook the city, the people of King's Landing looked up, the people in The Dragonpit looked up, the people of The Red Keep looked up, and the people in the royal ship did so too.

And, while everyone looked at The Golden Ray soaring powerfully in the skies, The Rogue Princess turned her head to look only at one place, to the castle. She wrinkled her lips, gulping her sour sad tears, thinking about The One-Eyed Prince.

Then the storm broke, and the dragons danced.

■ ■ ■

[featherstcnes]

there was no going back after this. rhaenyra knew this. whatever happened here today, this was either the beginning or the end of something, and she wasn't sure which she preferred. she didn't know how to truly grasp any of this. there was an old version of herself, just even weeks ago, that would have begged for peaceful resolution with alicent. if they could go back to when their children were young, when they were barely more than babes, surely, there had to be a path forward where they did not end up on opposite sides of a war. it was pointless to think of it -- it did not get them anywhere.

she had always been honest with alicent, and deep down in her soul, she knew alicent had always been honest with her. alicent could have had her killed back when she visited the sept, but she did not. instead, she had let her go. her hand moved to the scar that adorned her arm, given to her by the woman standing across from her. she could almost feel the fresh sting of it against her skin. it was what always happened with alicent -- every time she stood across from her, she felt like she was once again transported back in time.

" and you trust me, then? " rhaenyra asked, looking at her. " your sworn enemy, according to all of this conflict around us? " her words were not graced with the same amount of fire she wanted them to be. maybe there was a bit of hope from her, just waiting for a bit of something that she needed to hear leave the woman's lips. she parted her lips to say more, to say anything, and any attempt to was quickly broken by alicent taking her hand. something about this, about a touch so delicate, so intentional ... she took in a breath. i cannot be wholly free without you. there had been so much venom thrown at each other for so long, that hearing something genuine and so between them felt incredibly foreign.

please. " alicent, please. " she whispered, gaze focused on hers. " tell me what you would have me do. " she repeated her words from before, a hint of desperation in her voice. " i have made so many sacrifices for this senseless war. i do not even know where my children are because of this, i -- i have... we both have lost so much. " she still was keeping her gaze with alicent's, afraid to look away. " do you think i would not want to imagine a life where i could leave all of this behind? where people did not undermine my every move? " while her council was more willing to budge on some things, it still felt as if she had to force people to listen to her to move even the slightest bit forward.

rhaenyra gripped onto alicent's hand for a moment, shaking her head the smallest bit. " do you think i have not imagined a life where you were not taken from me? "

her eyes softened, her other hand that was not in alicent's grasp moving to touch the other woman's arm, holding onto it. it was the closest she had been to alicent in what felt like a lifetime where there was not a weapon between them. " i have not forgotten of my plea to ride away with you on dragonback, " she started in a whisper. " it's just... too late, alicent. " what was she to do? jace would never forgive her, and daemon? well, she was sure he would find his own way onto the throne, just as he had wanted. it was foolish for her to even be thinking of what could occur if she would leave. she could not. " i wish it were not. "

alicent hears her name come from rhaenyra's lips in a soft whisper, and her stomach starts to turn. she already knows that the rejection is coming, but knowing doesn't make it any easier. my path has been made for me. doesn't alicent know exactly how that feels? hasn't her path been written in stone since the very first moment her father told her to walk into viserys' chambers, leading to all of this? as much as she wills herself to hope for a better future, she knows that it will be a fractured future. she can run far and free as long as she wants to, but she will never be fully free. rhaenyra's eyes are a sea of complications, and they wash over her as the other woman makes eye contact with her again. something deep inside of her stirs. she knows this feeling, she can recognize the tug deep in her soul, and she wonders if rhaenyra feels the same. she wonders if it's taking everything in rhaenyra to say no. she wonders if she wants to come with her, to escape all of this.

rhaenyra steps forward, and speaks to her, her soft voice loud in alicent's ears. her own hands are shaking, gripping onto her cloak, as though holding themselves back. "i --" she starts, stopping herself with a falter. she licks her lips, swallowing, speaking shakily. she has no will to force her voice to steady. she is allowing herself complete vulnerability. "it would be remiss of me to lie and say otherwise. i never allowed myself a vision of the future which felt like..." freedom is almost a foreign word on her tongue. "... which felt safe. free from duty. there are not many i trust."

she holds rhaenyra's gaze, hoping that she understands what she's trying to say. somehow, the words i trust you, i love you, are not coming out. she's not sure she even knows how to speak those words. instead, her hands reach out of their own accord. the other woman is so close, she barely has to reach to take her hand, pulling it free and into her grasp. she can feel that rhaenyra's hands are shaking too. holding eye contact, she resists the urge to pull her closer. "rhaenyra, you are my..." lifeline. salvation. her voice drops to a whisper. "i cannot be wholly free without you."

possibly the most selfish thing she's ever said, but also the most truthful. a life, alone and away from all of this, with herself and haelena and rhaenyra. she would even have rhaenyra's children join if she wanted that. let the men have it out. let them be free. in truth, she hadn't even intended to ask rhaenyra to come. she knows she can't. it had slipped out, much as the rest does, a truth that can no longer be contained.

and so, she pleads. she knows the answer, but she cannot help but hope. she knows she still means something to rhaenyra. she was foolishly hoping that would be enough. with fresh tears in her eyes that make it difficult to see, she almost whines her next word. "please."

[doxypsychlean]

What If We Changed The Rules

Rhaenyra Targaryen x Alicent Hightower

Warnings: NSFW(not in this one, but will be in the next part (if I ever write it lol)

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

Request:

A/N: Why is writing NSFW shi so haaard 😭 I'll probs come up w a p2 for this one, but first I've gotta learn how to write smut lol. That's what you get when you spend most of your life writing abt gore and violent ish...

"I want to fly with you on dragonback, see the great wonders across the Narrow Sea, and eat only cake."

"I'm being serious."

"I never jest about cake."

"You aren't worried about your position?"

"I like this position. It's quite comfortable."

The memory of them spending time together in the Godswood, with Rhaenyra's head resting on Alicent's thigh, faded away.

She was. Worried. Now. Everything had changed. So much.

Alicent was now married to her father, and Rhaenyra- to Laenor. The young woman sighed as she pushed herself off the weirwood, and made her way towards the exit. Right as she was about to leave, Rhaenyra turned around. She stared at the place her and Alicent stood once.

"What happened last night?"

Rhaenyra could still see her, standing there. The way her hands were folded in front of her body, trembling slightly. The lavish dress Alicent wore. Red. The color of her house. Rhaenyra's color.

"What do you mean?" Rhaenyra asked her that day.

"My father has made some worrying allegations about you."

The look on Alicent's face made Rhaenyra cringe. What was it that could've made her feel this way towards her...

"Were you with your uncle?"

"Oh, I...I haven't seen him in years. He took me into the city for some fun."

Rhaenyra felt confused. She had done nothing wrong...Well, not really. It wasn't like she hadn't been drunk before. The only difference was that time her and Daemon had gone out into the streets of the capital, and after some wandering around, they had stopped in one of the taverns. Maybe Alicent had heard about how Daemon and Ser Harwin had had to carry her back to her quarters, Rhaenyra too drunk to walk. Or that she had vomited all over Ser Criston as the knight had tried to help get her back on her feet after Rhaenyra had fell.

"Tell me the whole of it, Rhaenyra." Alicent said as she walked towards her, her beautiful features twisting with anger.

"Your father accused me of something. That I drank wine? Left the castle after dark?"

Rhaenyra had replied with a smug look. Alicent had never been a fan, but she had made it look like going for a drink was a crime.

"That you fucked Daemon in a pleasure house."

Rhaenyra let out a chuckle as she remembered how she stared at Alicent, completely dumbfounded and heartbroken.

"What?"

"Did you?"

"This is a vile accusation."

"Is it?"

Of course it was. Rhaenyra had rejected everyone because of her. She had stalled for as much as she could, coming up with the most ridiculous reasons as to why she shouldn't marry this or that lord. All because of her. Her Alicent.

The hope didn't die, even when she found out her father, the King, had chosen Alicent as his new wife and Queen. It didn't die even after Alicent gave birth to her half-brother, Aegon. She wanted it to. Rhaenyra needed for it to die. For her feelings towards her friend to dissappear. But they never did.

So she pulled away from her. Rhaenyra started to avoid her. That didn't help either. Every time she saw a woman with brown, curly hair walk around court, Rhaenyra's head would whip in that direction. Then it would drop, once it hit her it wasn't Alicent.

The years passed quickly. They weren't girls anymore. Both of them were mothers. Rhaenyra knew the people would start to question hers and Laenor's marriage, if there were no children. She had to come up with something.

Ser Harwin Breakbones. The strongest knight in all the realm. That wasn't why Rhaenyra chose him to father her children, no. It was his brown, curly hair. His kindness. His good heart. His devotion. Just like Alicent's.

He knew it. Rhaenyra didn't love him. She loved how when she closed her eyes and ran her hands through his curly brown locks, she could pretend it was Alicent that laid in her bed. Even if it was just for a bit.

────────────

"Your Grace."

"Princess Rhaenyra." Alicent greeted back.

"Please, join me." Rhaenyra said, hand stretched towards the empty chair next to her.

She took in the green dress Alicent was wearing. She'd much rather have her in her colors, but she had to admit, green had always made Alicent Hightower stand out. The way it looked against her fair skin made a shiver run down Rhaenyra's back.

Alicent walked to her, then sat down. She was picking at her cuticles, an awful habit she'd had ever since they were girls. Rhaenyra noticed it immediately, Alicent was nervous.

"Rhaenyra, I have heard awful rumors..." Alicent said, voice flat. Her eyes spoke the truth, however. She was nervous. "Of a certain book you have in your possession."

"And where did you hear those rumors, your Grace?" Rhaenyra teased, not so subtly.

She knew exactly where. It was an old wedding gift, one from her uncle, Daemon. The Rogue Prince gave it to her shortly after her wedding ceremony with Laenor Velaryon. To mock her. To ridicule her. To rub it in her face. How she'd lost Alicent, and gained Laenor. From one person that didn't want her to the other.

Rhaenyra knew the servants couldn't have possibly read what was written in the book, seeing as it was in High Valyrian. But they'd definitely taken notice of the lewd illustrations that covered the pages. Of men and women, men and other men...women with other women.

"I find it to be most concerning that you would have such a thing just laying around, Rhaenyra." Alicent ignored her question, cheeks tinted red and eyes looking everywhere, but at her. "Especially when the children could walk in and find it."

The young princes, Alicent's and Rhaenyra's boys, were known for barging in their family members' private quarters without ever considering to knock before they come in. For that much, Alicent was right.

"I apologize, your Grace, I haven't thought of it this way..." Rhaenyra muttered, a smug grin creeping up on her face.

"I would have it burned, if it were mine. This kind of... readings..." Alicent cleared her throat, one hand reaching up to pull at the neckline of her dress. "...only fill one's head with impurities."

"It is only natural, Alicent. We are human." Rhaenyra replied.

To her surprise, Alicent rose to her feet. Her hands went to her front, nails digging into her pale skin. They were shaking, Rhaenyra realized, just like they had on that day.

"Have you no shame?!" Alicent spoke harshly, eyes bulging. "After everything you've done, you dare bring such vile things into our home! And then you make excuses!"

Rhaenyra stopped breathing for a second, eyes narrowing in anger. Her lips were now as thin as lines, as she bit her tongue.

"And what is it that I've done, your Grace. Speak the words, if you believe in them."

"Do not toy with me, Rhaenyra! We all know..."

Her fist landed on the table, lips pulling back.

"We all know what, Alicent?" Rhaenyra spat out the words. "You know nothing, but lies!"

"Is that it? What about Daemon? And Ser Criston? And..." Alicent choked on her words. She couldn't bring herself to speak his name out loud. Not his.

The silver haired woman stood up, just as fast as her Queen had moments before. She pushed the chair that stood between her and Alicent, it falling to the ground with a loud bang.

"I told you back then what I am telling you now. There has never, ever, been a thing between me and my uncle or that snake, Criston." She said, the words coming out way too calm for how she actually felt. "And Harwin...I did what I had to, you know it just as well as I do. And yet, I did not want him. I did not desire him."

"Then who?" Alicent let out a maniacal laugh, hand reaching up to stop Rhaenyra before she could get too close. "Tell me, Rhaenyra. Let us see what lie you will come up with next!"

"You!" The Princess shouted out, nor caring if anyone would hear. "It's always been you! But you're too fucking blind to see it!"

A shocked gasp came from the Queen as her hand dropped back down. She stumbled backwards, knees shaking.

"Think about it." Rhaenyra followed her. "Think about it good. About how I've been chasing after you all my life."

"Rhaenyra!"

Alicent hissed out, her eyes looking around for anyone that might see or hear them. While her attention was turned towards the gardens, she failed to see Rhaenyra come right in front of her. She didn't even realize her back was now pressed against the railing of the marble gazebo they were standing under. Or how Rhaenyra's hands caged her in, leaving her no space to move.

"Do you think I pulled away from you when you married my father, because I felt you'd betrayed me?" Rhaenyra's hushed voice rang in her right ear. Alicent finally turned to look at her, taking notice of how close their faces were. So close, she could feel Rhaenyra's ragged breaths on her skin. "They stole you from me. I had no way of getting to you. And I felt guilty."

"Why?"

The Princess let out a pained laugh. Her eyes dropped down to the Queen's lips, then went back up to her brown eyes.

"Because every night I fell asleep to the thought of how jealous I felt that it was my father, that had you in his bed. And not me." Rhaenyra shook her head, silver hair coming to frame her face. "Because every morning I woke up to the thought of how jealous I was of not being born a man. If only I had, I could've had you. If only..."

Both women were shaking, each for their own reason. Rhaenyra was in shock, she'd just told her Queen her best kept secret. She felt sick. She was expecting to finally hear Alicent Hightower, her only love, reject her and then start spilling insults at her. To watch her as she ran away, breaking whatever was left of Rhaenyra in the process. The fear drained all color from her face.

Alicent was in shock too. All the memories flashed in her head. The shame she'd felt once she'd come to terms with her feelings for the Princess. The way she had tried to keep them down, ignore them. The pain of having to listen to her father talk about how the King was starting to look for a good match for Rhaenyra. The anger and heartbreak that had struck her, once she heard of the vile talk about her, sleeping with Daemon. The way her heart shattered when the midwife handed her little Aegon, the babe having the same locks of silver-white hair as the Princess. The jealousy that had been eating at her through the years, getting stronger whenever she caught a glimpse of Prince Daemon, Ser Criston or Ser Harwin. Especially Harwin Strong.

"You never...Why did you never tell me?" She choked on her words as she slammed her body against Rhaenyra, hands wrapping around her.

Rhaenyra stood there, paralyzed. She didn't move, didn't speak. Only stared at the bushes, eyes glazed.

"Rhaenyra?" Alicent pulled away, hazel eyes now searching the blue ones of the Princess. But they were empty. Of thoughts, of feelings. Of anything.

"You know, I wanted to burn it. To tear it to pieces..." Rhaenyra said, voice gravely flat. "But...I kept it."

Alicent opened her mouth, then closed it. The puzzled look on her face said enough. Rhaenyra continued.

"Whenever I flicked through the pages, I saw you. Standing there, in front of me."

"Oh, Rhaenyra..." The Queen let out a heavy sigh.

"I have wished for my father's death more times that I can count. Not because I wanted the throne. But because of you." The Princess pulled away, turning her back towards Alicent. "Because then you'd be mine."

Alicent circled around her, then stopped right in front of Rhaenyra.

"Show it to me."

"What?"

"That book." The Queen repeated. "Show it to me."

Rhaenyra let out a low chuckle. She grabbed Alicent by the hand and pulled.

The two women left the gardens.

[syraxridden]

the  first  time  she  mentions  fighting,  the  two  are  strewn  atop  her  sheets  lazily,  her  head  resting  atop  his  chest,  his  fingertips  tracing  constellations  against  her  bare  back.  i  want  to  learn  how  to  lift  a  sword,  criston.  and  his  chest  rumbles  with  laughter,  hand  stilling  and  splaying  against  her  skin,  eyes  fluttering  shut  for  a  lengthy  pause.  something  violent  awakens  in  her,  rage  and  something  else,  something  more  ;  perhaps  a  decade’s  worth  of  FURY  for  not  being  taken  seriously  as  a  woman,  for  being  scoffed  at,  for  not  being  seen  as  equal  despite  being  HEIR.  she  doesn’t  mention  it  again,  and  neither  does  criston,  the  two  seemingly  content  with  pretending  that  rhaenyra  is  what  alicent  and  otto  hightower  seem  intent  on  saying  she  is  :  a  harmless,  innocent  young  woman.

she  says  the  very  same  words  a  few  years  after,  this  time  while  undoing  her  braids,  her  chamber  awash  in  shades  of  silver  and  gold  and  pewter,  a  canvas  painted  by  the  sunrise  that  claims  kings  landing.  harwin  is  resting  against  a  pillar,  cheekbones  and  hair  glowing  in  the  setting  rays  of  the  sun,  a  deity  of  old  reborn.  i  want  to  learn  how  to  lift  a  sword,  harwin.  and  here  there  is  nothing  but  contemplative  silence,  and  the  eyes  of  a  commander  assessing  a  potential  recruit.  azure  lingering  on  slender,  lean  arms  and  muscle-packed  thighs,  along  with  a  core  made  resilient  after  years  spent  on  dragonback  and  against  the  ferocious  gusts  of  wind.  he  looks  at  her  after  that,  gazes  meeting  in  the  polished  glass  of  her  mirror,  and  his  lips  curve  up  into  a  wry  smile,  gruff  and  proud  and  approving.  

the  next  day  she  finds  a  sword,  polished  and  gleaming,  with  an  amethyst  embedded  in  the  hilt.  it’s  no  beauty  of  old  valyria,  rasps  harwin,  lifting  the  weapon  as  if  it  weighs  nothing.  but  she’s  perfect  for  you.  and  so  she  wraps  her  fingers  around  the  wrapped  hilt  and  lifts  it,  loosening  a  rather  loud  sigh  at  the  unexpected  weight.  weakness  ;  but  something  that  harwin  strong  has  seen  from  her  over  the  years,  something  that  she  has  allowed.  he  peered  into  her  very  soul  years  ago,  had  looked  past  the  blood  stained  matted  hair  of  her  ancestors  and  seen  who  she  was,  and  from  that  moment  everything  had  clicked  into  place.  he  had  always  been  hers,  and  now  she  would  always  be  his.  teach  me,  commands  rhaenyra,  feet  spread  apart,  settling  into  position.  show  me  what  i  need  to  know.

rhaenyra  brandishes  the  weapon  as  if  she’s  a  warrior  of  old  valyria,  silver  hair  billowing  in  the  breeze  that  the  open  windows  bring  into  her  chambers,  chin  held  high  as  daemon  regards  her,  the  prince  lounging  atop  their  bed.  i  swore  i’d  never  be  weak, she  says,  almost  whispering.  i  swore  i  would  be  able  to  defend  myself,  and  in  doing  so,  i  would  be  defending  my  throne.  my  family.  those  i  love.  and  there’s  another  wind  that  ruffles  her  locks,  lingering  against  the  nape  of  her  neck,  the  breeze  scented  of  sandalwood  and  bergamot  and  man,  a  scent  she’d  lost  after  a  fire  in  harrenhal.  my  princess,  it  seems  to  say,  i  always  knew  you  could  do  it.  and  the  breeze  leaves  the  way  it  entered,  leaving  only  the  audible  crackling  of  embers  and  wood.  daemon’s  feline,  catlike  smile  never  seems  to  falter  as  he  stands,  reaching  for  dark  sister.  another  lesson  for  you,  ñuha  jorrāelagon.