#rhaenyra x oc

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Three-headed dragon (Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader)

Summary: Three times Rhaenyra marked you, and one time you did too. Or snippets of the love story I so wanted to tell but didn’t feel confident enough to write.

Warnings: Implied smut. Dance of the dragons. Canon character death (Not Rhaenyra)

Rquested: Yes!

A/N: I have not read the books, and I have only gotten one hickey in my life. I hope my ability to describe it's alright. Ignore the bra and the hegemonic body in the first picture, it's for the vibes.

“How many years have you spent by my side?” Rhaenyra asks, as you fix her hair in the mirror. It’s an important day, even if none of you know it at the time. It’s early. Her husband is off somewhere, no longer sleeping in the same bed as her. She is too pregnant, she jokes. You doubt it. You have long wondered what her relationship with Prince Daemon is. Are they star crossed lovers, who finally get their happy ending? Are they Uncle and Niece, married out of political convenience? You can’t tell.

You know which one you prefer, though. It must be kept secret, this deep-seated, long-lasting admiration for your Princess. You have been through it all, together. Youth, marriages, motherhood, widowhood. Ruining it now, with your feelings, would be foolish.

“Since we were sixteen.” You place different ribbons over her hair, testing, draping. It’s not your job, technically. You are a noblewoman in your own right, not supposed to be here on Dragonstone, but back in the North, where your long deceased husband’s bones rest.

Not meant for marriage, and ready to start your career as a Septa, you had found yourself as a companion to a much younger Rhaenyra. She had secured, in an admirable move, a marriage by proxy with some old lord. You had not even managed to reach the North when he had passed, leaving you as the sole heir to a small castle close to the Boltons.

With such undesirable neighbors, and the news that your Lord Husband was dead, you had decided to come back into Rhaenyra’s service. Her companion through childhood, now by her side during the trials of adulthood.

“Sixteen. Such a long time.” Rhaenyra squeezed your hand, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Served loyally and never asking for anything in return.”

“Only your friendship.” Your love, you wanted to scream. Your love, for you to see me, since I am still here and I want you. Don’t you see how much it has hurt me, when I am yours, yours, and you were Criston’s, then- -

But you say nothing of the sort. Not wanting to ever risk what you had. Love is selfless, you remind yourself. You can’t have her, nor can you own her. Rhaenyra is the Seven Kingdoms, Aegon’s Crown. You cannot hope to own her or rule her. The Iron Throne, as everyone knows, was not made for a woman.

“You are not my friend,” Rhaenyra says, and the shock must show on your face because she laughs. Silver bells filling the room, the laughter of a golden Princess. “You are family, by this point. Haven’t you cared for the boys as if they were yours?”

And it’s true. You have loved those children because they are half her. You have been the preferred aunt, the accomplice, and the one to teach them things as important as the proper way to hold a quill. As the saying goes, it takes a village. The children are your combined efforts, alongside hers, Daemon’s and Harwin’s.

“You are as much a mother to them as I am.” Yours. Rhaenyra is saying the boys are as much hers as they are yours. “I have been thinking.”

You are so grateful for it, you could cry. But that’s not why Rhaenyra likes you.

“Oh? You are capable of it? We must inform the Maesters.”

Rhaenyra laughs.

“More respect for your future Queen.” She tries putting on a scolding expression, but is unable to keep her face straight.

“Oh, your majesty! I never meant to offend?” You give her a mock curtsy, and she giggles a bit more. You love her like this, you have come to realize. Rhaenyra is a woman of many flaws, even as a mother. She has grown into something larger than life, a presence that commands rooms yet manages to remain full of love to give.

“Stop it, you,” Rhaenyra complains. “I’m trying to do something here. Have a gesture.”

You sober up, a smile still tugging at your lips.

“I was thinking perhaps you should start wearing my house colors. And before you say anything, I mean it as an order. I already had you made three new gowns.”

You open and close your mouth a few times.

“Dragon got your tongue?” She teases, cradling her belly.

“Rhaenyra… I… Too much?” Because you are not sure what she is saying, but definitely she is not calling you sister. She would say it plainly, your Rhaenyra. That she is telling you to wear her house colors… That’s what men do. To their wives.

“It’s what you deserve.”

She is informed of her father’s death that day. The only person she allows in the room with her, as she loses baby Visenya, is you. From woman to woman. No one else gets to glimpse the fragile human who lives inside the dragon, not even Daemon.

You declare war dressed in black and red.

The Black Council is filled with fools, despite the support they show to Rhaenyra. You know it. She knows it. That’s why it doesn’t come as a surprise to you when you go to step inside the war room, and a guard bars the entrance with his lance. You have been expecting this moment. Dreading it, even. It was bound to happen.

“I am sorry, my Lady, but you are not allowed inside. Orders of the Prince consort.” Of course. Of course it's Daemon. Despite expecting it, you can’t help but be surprised at his boldness.

You don’t wish to make a scene. You truly don’t. But it scares you more than you thought it would. First, you will be banned from rooms. Then, dismissed, if not outright executed. This day had to come, you knew. Everyone had family on the other side of the war, with all the noble houses having intermarried at least once.

In the years to come, the conflict will be known as one that teared brother from brother. You don’t know this, you will not live to see it. Yet, it rattles in your bones.

“What? Prince Daemon?” You ask a little too loud. It attracts the attention of some other people in the hallway, including Rhaenyra who is just arriving. She looks more regal than ever in a black gown that compliments her pale skin.

Whispers start to break out among the gathered, surely reminding your heritage. Everyone is waiting to enter the war room, and the lance the guard has extended across the doorway is certainly drawing attention.

“What’s going on here?” Rhaenyra asks, placing a hand on your lower back and eyeing the guard with suspicion. The man lowers his head.

“My Queen, Prince Daemon has said…” He starts to explain, but Rhaenyra silences him with a dismissive wave of the hand. Ashamed, you lower your eyes.

“I do not care what he has said.”

“He has prohibited the Lady from entering…” The guard argues. Next to you, Rhaenyra tenses. You know he has already angered her, daring to speak above her like that.

“Is Prince Daemon King? Does he wear the crown?” She asks him, fiercely. The guard, wisely, keeps quiet. “She is my right hand. I will not suffer to see her disrespected.��

And with that, Rhaenyra moves the lance aside with a brush of her hand, leading you inside by the small of your back.

At the table, Daemon stands, moving some pieces along the map of Westeros. His back is to you, but he turns as he hears the commotion that precedes your arrival. A smug little smirk is on his lips, as he sees your discomfort.

“What are you…?” Daemon says, when he processes that you are, in fact, inside the room he had banned you from. Then, he notices Rhaenyra. “Ah.”

He squares his shoulders, getting ready for a fight. You try to pull away from Rhaenyra, but the hand on your back turns into claws, grasping at your dress to keep you right where you are.

“Why did you order the guards to not let her inside?” Rhaenyra speaks in a tone that leaves no room for argument. Daemon has to answer her or else. It’s a tone you had heard frequently when she tries to reign her sons in.

“Because I thought she didn’t belong in the war room, my Queen.” Daemon saunters towards you, no doubt trying to intimidate you. You lift your chin defiantly. Usually, you two avoid each other’s path. He resents your position in Rhaenyra's life, as her most trusted council. You resent that he gets to share her bed.

“You gave a ridiculous order.” Rhaenyra argues, rubbing your lower back in soothing circles, as if you were a spooked horse.

“Not so ridiculous. We have known for a long time there is a spy. Why should it not be your pet?”

“I am not! You truly think I would do something as vile?” Desperate and feeling powerless, you turn towards Rhaenyra. For a second, you truly think she might believe him. It’s the scariest second of your life. Losing her in a trap set up by Daemon? You hope she can see how genuine the next words you speak are. “I would never endanger the children, never endanger you!”

“I know.” Rhaenyra says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I know.”

“Come on. Her family is as green as they come.” Daemon raises his hands in the air, as if asking for patience to the Seven Heavens.

“My family is here.” You say, firmly. “Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Viserys, Aegon…”

“So you say. But they are not your family, are they?” It feels as if Daemon has burned you. Nothing has hurt you more. Not even the accusations about you being a spy, or the time you thought you would have to leave Rhaenyra to marry some Lord in the North.

You have spent all your life next to her. All your best years. Now, you are an old spinster, despite being barely thirty. You have always wanted children, like any noble lady in Westeros. It was too late for it now. No lord would want a widow past her prime.

Yet, you have always thought that the void the lack of children of your own had left could be filled by Rhaenyra’s boys. Secretly, you thought yourself a mother already. What else could you be, when your name had been Jace’s first word? When you were the one holding Luke’s hands as he learned to walk?

Daemon wasn’t saying it openly, but it was clear that was what he meant. Rhaenyra’s children were not yours. As they had not been Harwin’s.

“They are!” Rhaenyra insists, but you are barely hearing it. The thought of it has left you too distraught to care about whatever you are discussing. It feels as if your heart is being carved out of your chest. Were Daemon about to suggest executing you for treason, you doubt you would worry. How could you, when it feels as if he has gutted you already? “We are. She is family. And I will hear no more of this matter.”

Her hand curves possessively around your waist. A claim, for everyone to see. You lean into her, shell shocked by it all.

But Daemon isn’t about to let this go. He pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket, one you recognize too well. You slump in defeat, despite Rhaenyra’s hands urging you to stay upright.

Daemon clears his throat, dramatically.

“And I fear your time with the Princess.” He stresses the last word, making a long pause. You close your eyes, and keep them closed tight. “Has come to an end. I urge you to come back to the Stormlands, where no harm shall befall you. For King Aegon is the most merciful when the misguided sheep comes back to the herd.” Daemon crumples the paper, and throws it to the floor. You wince. “Nothing to say?”

You shake your head.

“Daemon…” Rhaenyra warns, arm around your waist turning into a vice-like grip. You do not understand it, then. It will be a long time before you do.

“Did or did not your father write that?” He whispers, dangerously.

“He did.” You answer, in a voice so small it’s nearly inaudible. Daemon slams his hand on the table, making you jump, and struts out of the room.

You start to sob, quietly. This is it. Rhaenyra is going to dismiss you from her service. It’s true that your father has been urging you to come back home, stating that you would be protected. Begging you, even. Promising all sorts of things, from freedom, to riches, to a husband, to becoming the wife of a Prince. That’s his level of desperation.

It’s unlike him, to worry so much. But you know part of it is not just fatherly affection and genuine concern for your well-being. No. Taking you from Rhaenyra’s side would be the greatest hit the Blacks could take. Lately, you are one of the few things keeping the Queen calm and tethered to reality. You love her, but ever since Luke passed, Rhaenyra has turned almost unrecognizable. She is paranoid and harsh in ways you had never seen before. Crueler. More Targaryen than usual.

And not only that. You hold an unusual amount of information inside your head. Battle plans, supply chains, locations. Everything that has been the key to the Black’s success so far, you know. The information is too valuable to pass on. If you were to turn to the Greens, you would have to share it, be it voluntarily or forcibly. You are not foolish enough to not know it.

“Breathe, darling.” Rhaenyra cradles your face between her hands. “It's alright. I know you would never betray me. Breathe.” She exaggerates her breathing, placing your hand on her chest. It’s only then you realize you have started to hyperventilate. She pulls you into her, hugging you. On the doorstep, Daemon watches.

You don’t know what has gotten into her. Never has she touched you like this. It’s not the first time you kissed. You had both been sixteen and curious, once. But it had not gone further than learning how to kiss another person without it being gross. Because that was what friends were for. Obviously.

She smells like soot and blood. It’s clear she has rushed to your side, not even taking time to change after the battle. You wonder who she killed, this time. What city has she burned, how many of the small folk she and Daemon have doomed?

“I thought… When they said there were revolts on the road….” And her mouth is yours, and you can’t think because you want her so bad you aren't concerned about the consequences. Half the Kingdom is against you, already. You are considered traitors on one side, she is the Queen on the other. What does it matter, really, that it’s called a sin? You will die anyway.

“You are mine. Please. Say it to me, love.” Rhaenyra pleads, kissing your jaw. She looks so gorgeous in armor, you feel like you might die any time you glance her way. And now, you get to have her. It’s intoxicating, having all that power at your fingertips. A goddess come to life, set on claiming you, you and only you.

“I am yours.” You say, kissing her brow. You won’t question it. Not when you are so close to getting your darkest fantasies come true. “I have always been.”

“Mine.” Rhaenyra kisses the hollow of your throat. “You are mine.”

She grabs your hand, pulling you towards a chair. The room you are in is not yours, nor hers. Neither of you care, too desperate for each other. Rhaenyra doesn’t care that her blood soaked armor is staining someone’s chair. You don’t care that your dress is getting thrown around someone's room. Just in your chemise, she pulls you into her lap.

It will have to be burned, after this. There is no way you will be able to salvage the white cotton shift after straddling her lap. The blood sticks the two of you together, but you are too joyous to care.

“I love you.” You say to her, as she bites down on the column of your throat, harshly. Still a little bloodthirsty.

A beat of silence. Have you ruined things before they truly began?

“I love you too.” Rhaenyra says, as she kisses your collarbones. “I love you, and you are mine.”

“All yours.” You answer, breathlessly. Purple flowers blooming across your collarbones, a red angry rose right by your ear. Her bloodstained hands leaving marks upon your arms.

“Yours, yours, yours.” You moan as someone clinging to a lifeline.

“All mine, all mine, all mine.” She answers back.

A bite where your shoulder meets your neck. It’s painful, stinging, your vision blurring into soft flashes of orange and red.

“Just take it for me, please. Please, sweet girl.” Rhaenyra sucks another bruise on your skin. Deep lilac that will bloom into soft green. “I need this. I need them to know you are mine, even if we can’t tell them.”

You pant. There is a certain pleasure to it, being kissed with the barest hint of teeth. But it’s more than just the kisses, what has you panting in arousal. It’s the way she treats your body as her own personal canvas. As if you were a precious artwork Rhaenyra is bringing to life with her kisses.

A maroon chrysanthemum, just over your collarbones. Front and center, the bruise blooms. Her hand, holding your jaw still for the softest torture.

You are uncertain if she is doing it out of fear, trying to make sure you are still there. If she is a bit sadistic, in the way Targaryens are. Or if this is simple, raw reassurance that you are willing to do anything she asks. You save the wondering for later, though. At the moment, you are too busy breaking down under the talented mouth of your Princess.

You don’t want to be separated from her. You know, you know, that something bad is about to happen. Some nights, you wake up, choked up in a bad feeling. You barely recognize her anymore.

Luke’s death had devastated everyone. You thought, after that, never again would you know such pain. You were mistaken. In the months to come, it was as if the children were falling as flies. Everywhere you looked. Jace, Joffrey, Viserys. And through it all, you had been by her side.

Rhaenyra has transformed into something that’s equally beautiful and terrifying. Far more determined and possessive, love harsher and unwilling to let go. Desperation does funny things to women.

As children, your love had been more pure. Untainted but also untested. Your innocence had been lost long ago. But a love that was not pure didn’t mean a love that meant less. it just meant it had grown and changed, as things often did.

Rhaenyra’s heart was not what it used to be when you two were younger. No longer filled with dreams of cake and laughter. But you weren’t the same girl, either.

Before, you had felt the urge to mark her and settled for being marked instead. You had told yourself you were not allowed to have her, that she was Laenor’s, Harwin’s, Daemon’s. And each and each time, you pulled back, curling into yourself. No more. It was not enough, to be hers. No. It was not enough to be owned. You had so little now, you wanted everyone to know she was yours as you were hers.

“Rhaenyra.” You ask her, as she pushes you down to your knees, tossing and turning in the sheets. “Rhaenyra.” As your teeth bruise her thighs, as you bring her over the edge over and over again.

“Darling. Love. Come here.” And you want to sob because it’s not enough. You want her to be yours. You want her to be yours, so you can drag her and the kids away from this madness, far away to a land where the war won’t touch you. Where there is no Iron Throne to destroy the family you have built little by little.

She will never go. Not even after all the boys die. Not even after Daemon is dead, in an incident that’s half an attempt to escape her, half a suicide mission. You have no other choice but to remain by her side, too far in to do otherwise.

Leaving is giving up. Leaving is losing. Leaving is renouncing the Iron Throne, her birthright. She will never go. Rhaenyra would rather tear the realm apart than save herself, and it terrifies you.

What terrifies you more is the fact that despite all the grief, all the pain, you do not regret loving her. You just regret not loving her in the way she deserves, in the way she has been asking for. The clothes, the hands, the bruises. Only now do you realize Rhaenyra has been trying to mark you, claim you. And it’s like you two are finally speaking the same language.

“Promise me.” You whisper against her hair, as you lay in bed together. “Promise you will never take this off.” And you are slipping her a silly thing, a medal of the Mother you always carry with you for protection. It’s not exactly your house’s jewelry, or your cloak, as a man would give to a wife.

Rhaenyra laughs. She finds your devotion to the Faith of the Seven silly. But she gets it, anyway. She puts the medal on, close to her heart.

You loved her differently now. No longer your silver Princess, your childhood companion. In your chest, curling around your heart, a dark possessive thread rests, tying you to her. Finally, you meet her in the middle.

Rhaenyra has always loved you like certain things are meant to be loved. In secrecy. In the dark. Not of her own will, but yours. Rhaenyra didn’t care what others thought. She had been so bold before, trying to get you to step in the light for once. You had not realized it at the time, you had not been ready. You had worried too much.

And now, with no time to worry left, with death threatening your doorstep, you realize exactly what you were missing out on. Every time she walks away, chain glistening between her breasts, you get a secret thrill. She is yours. You know it. It’s your mark Rhaenyra wears close to her heart.

[neonlight2]

Jaehaera (oc) x Daemon Targaryen

War alongside Daemon

Because you asked so nicely… @bluecloudsworld.

Masterlist

“Where the hell is he?”

“Be patient uncle—,” Laenor all but pleaded, his eyes flickering from place to place, searching for a sign, a flutter in the clouds, a piercing squeal, the glimpse of red.

“I knew this was a mistake, no right fool would go into the pits in these conditions, and the fact we are now trusting a madman—,”

“Daemon will help us—,”

“He will ruin us!” Lord Vaemond scream, rage of defeat boiling through his throat. “And Driftmark will be left in shambles because of the King’s neglect and his brothers temperament.”

Laenor could feel the words weighing on his tongue, you’re the reason we lost the first half of this war. But he dare not say it.

While his uncle spoke of temper as if he was not throwing a tantrum this very moment, Laenor knew better than to test it farther. Vaemond got rash when angry, both in mouth and hands.

And the last thing Laenor needed was more inner conflict within his family due to an avoidable squabble.

“Father trusts him,” Laenor reasoned, his hands held out, meant to mend the tension, “and Daemon promised not to do anything foolish.”

Vaemond scoffed at the thought, the rogue prince not causing trouble? What a thought.

“I can’t believe the king is allowing this.”

“Uncle—,”

“It’s bad enough that we have let his fool of a brother lead, let only have to coddle a child.”

“Uncle, be—,” Laenor eyes grew desperate to stop his uncle, eyes straying to behind the ranting lord, whom had no concern for his surroundings.

“A princess no less, who’ll no doubt need coddling—,”

“Oh I’m sure I’ll be fine Lord Vaemond, but it’s nice to hear that you care so much for my well being.”

Laenor’s uncle stilled, arms tense with the outrage he could no longer express. It would seem that he needed practice when reviewing his surroundings.

Turning with a placated smile, the prideful Lord laughed as if everything he said were a mere jest, and those not laughing were too stiff.

“Princess!” He announced, acting down his surprise with mocking joy. “Lovely to see you once again. My god how much you’ve grown! You were at my belt the last time we met, now you’re nearly as tall—perhaps even taller than me.” He realized her true size as she approached him further, stalking up so smoothly one would think she were slithering.

Humming in agreement, Jaehaera passed by Vaemond without a second thought in order to glance at the battle plans scattered about the makeshift table. “Daemon is off surveilling the territory for us, so I’m here to help lead you in his stead,” glancing up, having seen enough to know that there truly was no plan, Jaehaera gave Laenor a playful wink to acknowledge her dear friend, “I hope that does not disappoint you too much.”

“No,” Vaemond quickly lied corrected. “I’m just saddened Daemon did not keep his word as he said. He’s rather…”

“Chaotic?” Jaehaera threw out, moving the map as she pleased, “Dishonest? Undependable?”

Allowing himself to laugh, Vaemond nodded furiously. “Exactly, I’m overjoyed at least you agree with me princess—,”

“I think you should lead the west troops, closer to the coast.” Jaehaera interrupts, tapping against the wood to show where she meant. “You are better suited for the sea, if anything should go wrong you can take your troops to the water and attack from there.”

There was a new tension in the air, and Laenor could since the band about to break.

“Jaehaera, maybe I should take the west, and my uncle should help you—,”

“Laenor, with all of your skill on land, you lack what is needed for sea warfare. Besides,” she glances from her willing, soon to be brother in law, to his uncle, “ a victory on water is as great as any on land. It should be a wonderful opportunity to fully show the power of your house Lord Vaemond, the infamous ‘sea snakes’.”

She’s baiting him, Laenor thought.

She would make him a coward if not mediocre.

“And where do you and Daemon play into this,” Vaemond grits, “the hero’s in the middle of the battle? Wont it be hard to share the spotlight with a showman like Daemon?”

Smiling, Jaehaera leans back, resting her arms on her sword. “On the contrary, Daemon is rather docile when it comes to those he respects. He’s already agreed to play whatever part I have for him.”

She shrugs slightly, “It would seem he’s only dependable to those he’s loyal too. And as for the limelight… Laenor will be the one to lead the siege.”

All went still at her decree.

“What?” Laenor asked, honest in his surprise. “Jaehaera, I am honored by your trust in my abilities but I—,”

Tilting her head, Jaehaera chuckles at the wrinkles building on the young man’s forehead. Clapping his shoulder with encouragement she said, “You’ll be fine. Daemon and I will be at the front, to take some of the brute force off the troops, and you are well versed in strategy. I have no doubt you will lead the troops to see another day.”

Without leaving room for anymore discussion, Jaehaera walked away from the table and held her face toward the sky— eyes closed with searching ears. “Daemon will be landing soon,” she stated with no hesitation. “Get your men ready before he gets here and thinks too highly of himself.”

Laenor laughs this time, shaking his head as he points and waves to his close guards. “Prepare the men and make sure they’re steady in their station.”

“See?” Jaehaera quips as soldiers scurry about her, waiting for the stomping of Vaemond’s furious feet to stop. “You’re a natural.”

“Do you want there to be quarrel between my uncle and I?” Laenor asks in a forced whisper.

“Come now Norry, you know I’d never put you in such an awkward predicament.” Jaehaera teases with fake seriousness. “I want to have a quarrel with your uncle.”

“You’re still using me as a middle man—,”

“Fine, I’m sorry—,”

“No you’re not.” Laenor retorts with a smirk, poking her side.

Caving, the Princess conceded. “Fine, I’m not, but I promise not to use you like that again.”

“Oh?” Laenor inquired. “Than whoever will be your middle man.”

Straightening her posture, Jaehaera smiles widely as her eyes open. “Who else?”

The screech of Caraxes would be familiar to anyone in the realm. It was only shocking to the people of Westeros when too much time had passed without hearing the sound, somewhere in the distance. Farmers would pray to the gods for their livestock to be spared, whilst noblemen clutched their hearts with fear. Jaehaera, however, found the sound sweet like music.

“He really is a showman isn’t he?” Laenor jested, watching the Rogue Prince land dramatically before their very eyes. Leaning closer to the other dragon beside him, he whispered, “You dressed like that to provoke him.”

Scoffing, Jaehaera tilted her head as she watched Daemon dismount his trusted companion. Both almost mimicking the other as they shook off the winds kiss.

“I don’t like being tied down by the weight of armor.”

“You don’t like being tied down at all,” Laenor teased. “So the leather you’re wearing is only for your benefit?”

“For all of us,” Jaehaera mused in a hushed voice as Daemon got closer.

Laenor whispered directly into her ear before rushing off like a child. “I bet you a hour of guard duty that he’ll want to mount you not even three minutes into battle.”

Mocking a shocked expression, Jaehaera’s head swung to the side, staring as Laenor ran away. “Bold of you to assume it will take that long!”

“Assume what Issa jaesa?”

*My goddess

A light shiver ran down the princess’s spine, feeling his lips trail down her neck.

“Behave Daemon.” Jaehaera warned, grabbing the underside of chin to push him away. “You can’t have the spoils until after the war.”

Daemon twisted around to look at her directly, a wicked grin across his face. “Are you saying you’ll reward me today?”

“If you—,”

“You know behavings not in my nature,” he said with a devious glint in his eyes, “give me something easier.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a reward if you didn’t have to work for it,” Jaehaera quipped, deciding it would be best to direct her attention to the fire puppy in front of her. “Why can’t you be more like Caraxes Dae?”

Kissing the dragon’s scaled snout, she embraced the heat of his breathing with a relieved sigh. “He’s always so well behaved.”

“Well maybe I would be too if I got a kiss every time we met.” Daemon stated indignantly, pulling her back into him by her waist.

“You’re so needy,” she whines mockingly. “We have a war to win.”

“So lead the way my little dragon,” he whispered, his nose brushing lightly along the skin peaking out around her shoulders.

“I’m not little.” Jaehaera said in an irritated tone before hissing from a harsh sting.

He bit her.

Properly enough to leave canine marks in her skin.

“Daemon, I swear on Viserys’ crown—,”

Licking the spot as an apology, Daemon steps away, arms in the air. “Just a promise issa jaesa.”

“Of maiming me?” She asked sarcastically, trailing her fingers along the mark to find the puncture.

Daemon’s eyes darkened as he stepped further away, watching her intently. “That I will be the only one to draw blood from you today.”

Jaehaera laughed. “And what if I accidentally nick myself today?”

Squinting at her, Daemon’s mouth forms a strict line. “You wouldn’t.”

“We’ll see,” she remarked, quick to race her way towards the army standing ready, “now hurry along, we have a battle to begin!”

***

The ways of war had always come easy for Jaehaera. She thought that the balance of war was always fair. Death and life. Evil and innocence. She loved that everyone on a field could become equals no matter what station, anyone could kill or be killed. She loved that they would all dance together, close but far, sweating with grief and ambition. It was so incredibly human to her, and more intimate than almost any encounter she had with people.

But even with everything she loved, she hated war with the same ferocity. Jaehaera hated casualties above all else, thinking it the most dishonorable trait.

So she fought with rage. A burning spirit fueled by the cries she imagined ripped from the innocent. The tears they spilled oozing from her skin as she tore through another soldiers muscles, and she watched as their blood painted her red and saw only retribution.

Her blade slid against many throats, giving a fast death to those she admired for fighting well. Others who relied on their opponents bad fortune, waiting until they fall to the ground to pierce their hearts— they met more excruciating ends.

Her arms ached deliciously as she stood back, looking at some of her work— bodies on top of bodies—

“You are breath taking in red.”

Fluttering her eyes closed with slight, blissful exhaustion, Jaehaera replied, “You always said I’d be deadly.”

Their breathing mingled, filling the thick silence with heaving air and raised chests. Jaehaera’s eyes had shut tight basking in the sun that peaked out through the fog.

“The people will crown you for this,” Daemon stated, sheathing Dark Sister to his side once more, allowing her to rest. Jaehaera could hear his footstep but didn’t bother to move. “Would you let me serve you, my queen.”

If anyone else had placed a blade to Daemon Targaryen’s neck, they’d be dead within a second. But his words were treason, something no person in the realm could escape punishment for, he would revel in whatever she felt fit for him.

“Must you always seek a rise out of me?”

“It gives me your undivided attention.”

“You are a mess,” Jaehaera scoffed, her sword still steady as she twisted to face him properly.

“So are you, maybe we should bathe together.”

In any other scene Jaehaera would have laughed in his face, made a crude remark back, and leave him with a problem to fix himself. However, she could not look away from him, transfixed by the contrast of the rogue prince before her. His white hair stained with red, his eyes purple with blood magic, yet more black now than ever.

“You lost the bet,” Jaehaera whispered, easing closer to him and resting her head against his chest. Flicking braided hair to the side, she bared the back of her neck to him where a gash laid thick with dried blood. “He was a fine swords man.”

She could feel his heart start to pound, more fervently than ever. Than she felt his fingers, rough and calloused, delicately tracing the wound.

“How will you punish me?” His voice thin and disappointed.

Not for treason against the crown, but for breaking a promise to a woman standing alive before him.

“You’re growing soft Dae,” she said while letting her hand fall, easing the blade from his throat. “We will give our crowns to our King.”

“He would have you keep it—,”

“And I would have myself hanged,” she quipped. Looking up at him, finally, she could see his furrowed brows. “There is a balance to keep,” Jaehaera swept her fingers across his face, relieving the tension, trailing until she met his hair— the hair she was so fond of.

Gripping it tightly, she let her hand swing, and with a brief hiss from Daemon and the shing of her sword— he had lost his mane.

He could barely believe it. Eyes wide with shock as she slid her fingers through the new length, her nails grazing his scalp effortlessly. Years or growth cut off without a notice. His punishment.

A smile grew on his face as he watched he slip back, her own eyes in a daze. “You and your Dothraki customs.”

Shaking his head he braved her tightly, lifting her in the air despite her squeals, Daemon beamed like the sun. “Will you let me serve you now?”

“After failing your mission—,”

“You’ve already punished me for not keeping my promise, now reward me for my efforts,” he all but begged. “Let me clean you at least.”

She rested herself comfortably against him, allowing her arms to brace his shoulders and legs his waist. Jaehaera stared at him blankly before grabbing his jaw and whispering into his lips, “Fine, but cleaning only.”

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There will be a follow up in: Came back a king… and queen

@bluecloudsworld @kyuupidwrites

[hllywdwhre]

Dreamer, Queen, Prince - Chapter 9

Pairing: Daemyra x fem!OC

Warnings: Please check masterlist for warnings. This work is 18+, MDNI

Masterlist

Authors Note: This authors note will include a chapter specific warning that contains a spoiler for the content of the chapter, but I feel, in this case specifically, this chapter deserves an extra content warning.

There will be graphic depictions of childbirth in this chapter.

Their return to King’s Landing did not last long. It seemed Viserys had not forgotten their banishment and reminded them the next day that their home was Dragonstone. Disappointed but unsurprised, Viserea did not argue.

That night though, Rhaenyra had managed to sneak her way into their room, though, and the three enjoyed each other’s company for the last time until Rhaenyra would be able to visit them on Dragonstone.

Viserea and Daemon returned to Dragonstone the next day after bidding farewell to everyone. The weeks after seemed to be peaceful. They exchanged letters daily with Rhaenyra, keeping each other informed of the daily events that took place at Court.

Rhaenyra informed them that Laena did not leave with her mother and father at the end of a fortnight and seemed to have become infatuated with Ser Harwin. She had said she wouldn’t be surprised if their betrothal was announced soon.

At the end of the cycle of the moon, Amarda was helping Viserea bathe after dinner and dismissed the rest of the handmaidens from them, telling them she needed to speak to the Princess in private.

Viserea looked at Amarda in confusion when she asked a question that caused her heart to stutter in her chest.

“Princess, when was the last time you bled?”

Viserea tried to think of the answer and realized that she had last bled back when she and Daemon were still in Pentos, before they had even been married.

“I-it’s been two moon cycles…” Viserea replied, her hands shaking as she stood up from the large stone tub, suddenly feeling nauseous.

Amarda had been Viserea’s handmaiden since she was a child and knew exactly why Viserea hadn’t become excited at the news, but had turned pale and ashen.

“History will not repeat itself, Princess. Maester Gerardys has studied childbirth for a long time after the unfortunate events of Princess Adalyn and Queen Aemma so that he could do everything in his power to prevent the two of you from being harmed,” Amarda comforted as she helped Viserea from the tub and began drying her off.

Viserea nodded, finding some comfort in her words, but being unable to get rid of all of the fear that seemed to have made its home inside of her.

Once she was dressed, she began to walk the halls of the castle, knowing where she would find Daemon. She took her time as she tried to work through her emotions. Terror filled her at the thoughts of all the dangers of childbirth, but a bubbling of delight also began seeping in.

Viserea had never pictured herself being a mother, but she couldn’t deny that she was excited to bear Daemon’s child. She knew she would not be turned into some broodmare, good for only producing his offspring and viewed as nothing else. He had promised her years ago that she would not be turned into another Targaryen Princess that would be wed off to a random lord and used for nothing but political gain, and he had kept his word.

Before they were even married, he had protected and spoiled her and advocated for her. Their entire time traveling after the War of the Stepstones was spent with him advocating her place as future Hand to other nobles and insisting they take her advice for issues they faced. It had led to great praise from them when their problems resolved themselves after heeding her advice. He had brought her to see parts of the world she had not seen before and bathed her in riches simply because he wanted to.

Security and safety. That was what Daemon had brought her, and while she couldn’t ignore the anxieties she felt over bearing a child, having Maester Gerardys and Daemon by her side calmed a lot of them greatly. The only other person she would want beside her was Rhaenyra.

Taking a deep breath, her hands no longer shaking, she stepped outside and made her way to the entrance of the cave that Tessarion and Caraxes had inhabited and found two dragonkeepers waiting outside.

“Leave us,” she said, waiting on Daemon at the entrance of the cave.

A few minutes later he stepped out of the cave, ash covering his face. He looked surprised to see Viserea but the surprise was quickly replaced with happiness,

“The eggs look amazing!” Daemon said excitedly.

Tessarion had produced a clutch of eggs about a week ago and you would have thought Daemon a child again with how excited he had been over it.

Viserea couldn’t fight the smile at her husband’s excitement and stepped towards him, taking his hand in hers.

“A good thing, too, as it seems we will be needing to place one in a cradle for our babe soon,” she said, placing his hand on her stomach and smiling up at him.

Daemon’s excitement turned to shock, then back to excitement as he picked her up and pulled her into a hug. Viserea wrapped her arms around his neck, returning the eager kiss he gave her as he set her feet back on the ground.

“You’re carrying my child…” he said as if he didn’t believe the words himself.

Viserea giggled and nodded. He placed his forehead against hers and kissed her softly once again,

“I’ll be here for everything. I know you’ve feared this moment, but-“ Daemon started, but Viserea shook her head.

“Don’t. You’re right, I’m very fearful of what could happen, but Amarda has said Maester Gerardys has been studying childbirth ever since Aemma passed for Rhaenyra and myself. I’ll be surrounded by handmaidens and he’ll be there, too. I don’t wish to focus on my fear the entire time my babe is in the womb. I wish to focus on the fact that I am bearing my husband’s child on the island of our ancestors while our dragons are producing clutches of eggs,” Viserea told him. Her tone was soft as she admitted her fear, but final. She wouldn’t spend her entire pregnancy fearing what was to come.

Daemon nodded a moment later and kissed her once again,

“I trust your instincts and I trust you,” he said, “you would be the first to know if there was something to fear.”

The two walked back to the castle with their hands intertwined and, while Daemon washed away the dirt and ash from visiting the dragons, Viserea made her way to the library and began writing a letter to Rhaenyra.

My darling cousin,

You’ll be pleased to hear that Caraxes’ and Tessarion’s clutch of eggs still look amazing.

I’m glad to hear that your father has started taking your opinions into account more in council meetings and that the new hand has supported these instead of brushing them aside as the old one had a habit of.

I’m also happy to hear that Laena continues to embrace you as her sister now and hope she and Harwin might find happiness with each other.

Daemon and I do have good news of our own. Amarda asked me when the last time I bled was while helping me bathe and I realized I last bled in Pentos.

While this realization shocked and scared me at first, I find myself growing excited. Amarda assured me that Maester Gerardys has been studying childbirth for a while now and she is confident in his abilities to deliver the babe safely. I won’t deny that I still hold fear inside of me due to our mothers’ devastating ends, but I have told Daemon that I do not wish to live in fear of what could happen as it is not healthy for myself or the babe.

Daemon and I wish to see you soon, whether we must fly there or you fly here. I have gone a year without your presence before and I do not wish to repeat it.

All my love,

Viserea

After sending the letter, Viserea returned to her’s and Daemon’s chambers, finding him shirtless and reading a book in their bed.

“I assume you told Rhaenyra?” He asked, though it wasn’t really a question as he already knew Viserea would have.

She nodded and laid herself down next to Daemon, taking her usual spot under his arm. He set his book down and placed the newly freed hand on her stomach.

“Our own army of dragons will soon hatch,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“I’m sure everyone will be just thrilled at the thought of the banished Prince and Princess having children together,” Viserea replied sarcastically.

“They will, or they will be met with fire,” Daemon replied with a warning in his voice and Viserea knew he meant it. Any disrespect towards their child would not be tolerated.

Rhaenyra joined them on Dragonstone two days later, along with Laenor, Laena, and various members of the Kingsguard. Congratulations were offered to the two expectant parents and Viserea found herself unable to be anything but excited with the people she viewed as her closest and most trusted family members surrounding her.

They spent a fortnight on the Island and this visit seemed to spark a new pattern.

When Daemon and Viserea were not traveling, Rhaenyra and Laenor were on Dragonstone with them. The limited staff meant Rhaenyra, Laenor, Daemon, and Viserea were free to be with each other as they pleased with minimal worries about facades needing to be upheld. Laena was almost always with them as she and Harwin seemed to grow closer every day.

When Laena and Harwin’s betrothal was announced less than a week after returning from their first visit from Dragonstone, Rhaenyra informed Daemon and Viserea that Laena had been informed of the “arrangement” between them. While she was confused, Rhaenyra said she seemed more relieved that it meant her brother didn’t have to keep a second life secret from them.

It was at a dinner during their second visit that Rhaenyra and Laenor stood and gathered everyone’s attention, announcing that Rhaenyra was also carrying a babe.

Later, on the privacy of the beach as the group walked along the shore, Daemon was the one to voice the thoughts that Viserea herself had but hadn’t had the nerve to voice.

“Should we expect the newest heir to take after his father’s looks or his mother’s?” Daemon asked, causing Viserea, Laena, and Harwin’s heads to look towards Rhaenyra and Laenor.

The question could have seemed rude or even treacherous from anyone else, but Rhaenyra nor Laenor seemed to mind. Everyone knew that Rhaenyra and Laenor had promised each other to fulfill their duties and produce an heir for Rhaenyra. Everyone also knew that for every night Rhaenyra and Laenor shared a bed, Laenor shared a bed with someone else and Rhaenyra shared Daemon and Viserea’s bed.

Rhaenyra and Laenor exchanged a glance and Laenor cleared his throat,

“We’re unsure if the babe will resemble its Velaryon or Targaryen blood more. I suppose that is up to the Gods to decide,” Laenor replied.

Daemon nodded, the meaning of their exchanged words being clear.

Rhaenyra had slept with both Laenor and Daemon and there wasn’t a sure answer to who’s babe she carried.

“No matter the resemblance, the babe will be the most protected and loved babe the Gods have ever seen,” Viserea said, meaning her words and offering Rhaenyra a smile.

When both Daemon and Laenor agreed with her statement, any amount of tense atmosphere disappeared quickly and the group went back to their relaxed walk along the shore.

The next seven months went by quickly for the entire group. Laena and Harwin’s wedding was held at Driftmark and a cause for great celebration.

Before it became too dangerous for Viserea to fly, she and Daemon flew to King’s Landing, and she had insisted Maester Gerardys sail to the Keep as he was the only maester that she would allow near her during birth.

Within a fortnight, Viserea was awoken in the middle of the night by her labor pains, and within minutes the midwife, ladies-in-waiting, and Master Gerardys were in the room while Daemon waited outside.

She changed into a plain white underdress and shooed away the hands of anyone who tried to come near her.

Panic filled her. Images of Aemma being held down and sliced open. What she imagined her mother looked like, sick with a fever that wouldn’t leave her.

When a midwife approached her again, trying to place a cool rag on her head, she snapped.

“I said not to fucking touch me!” She swore loudly.

Minutes later, a disheveled looking Rhaenyra entered the room and came to stand beside Viserea, though she didn’t try to touch her.

“Vis, I’m here,” she said, crouching down to Viserea as Viserea gripped the back of the couch and slid down to sit on the balls of her feet. “I’m with you, I won’t let them harm you, you know it.”

Rhaenyra held a hand out to Viserea which Viserea took into her own.

Her labors progressed for hours and Rhaenyra was the only one she would allow to touch her, allow to use a rag to wipe away her sweat, and the only one she would allow near her when she began pushing.

Viserea caught her daughter herself when she was finally born in the early hours of the morning.

“You did it, my love,” Rhaenyra whispered from behind Viserea, kissing her temple as the babe and Viserea both cried.

The midwife was only allowed near Viserea long enough to cut the umbilical cord and help deliver the afterbirth.

Daemon entered a couple moments later, after the babe had been wrapped in a blanket.

He immediately came over to Viserea and Rhaenyra’s side, looking down at the babe she clung to protectively, keeping her against her chest.

“I hear there is a new Targaryen Princess,” he said with a wide smile, running his thumb lightly over his daughter’s forehead and along her cheeks.

“Princess Daenyra,” Viserea replied in a voice loud enough for Maester Gerardys to hear and make note of. “Named after the two who have my heart,” she said in a lower voice.

It was an hour later, after everyone had left the room aside from Daemon, Rhaenyra, and Viserea, and the wet nurse had already fed Viserea, that Rhaenyra’s lady-in-waiting, Elinda, knocked on the door and stepped inside.

“Princesses, Prince,” she greeted with a polite bow, though her voice shook with an edge of nervousness. “The Queen has requested the babe be brought to her immediately.”

Viserea felt her blood run cold but she wasn’t the first to speak.

“Why?” Rhaenyra asked, doing the best to keep the ice out of her voice.

“She did not say, Princess,” Elinda replied.

“Daemon, take Daenyra,” Viserea said. She could already feel the silent anger radiating off of him and she knew their daughter was going to be the one thing to keep him from physically reacting.

“Why?” He asked in a lethal and low voice.

“If she wishes to see my babe, it must be to offer congratulations. I will go see her myself,” Viserea said in a wry voice that revealed she knew that wasn’t the real reason.

Before Daemon could argue, she was placing Daenyra into his arms and pushing herself off of the sofa in the room.

“Elinda, would you help me dress, please?” Viserea asked, speaking over Daemon and Rhaenyra trying to protest her going.

“My daughter will not be going nowhere near that woman without me there,” Viserea snapped out as Elinda helped her get dressed.

Her hair was still in the disheveled braid she had worn during her labors, but Elinda worked quickly to restyle it. Within minutes, she was taking Daenyra back from Daemon and Daemon was supporting one side of her while they began walking through the Keep.

“What is the meaning of this?” Daemon said in a low voice to the two of them.

“A reminder of her power. She is Queen and she can have whatever she wishes,” Rhaenyra said from beside Viserea.

“She can, but it will not be given to her easily,” Viserea said, muttering a few choice words under her breath as she began walking up the stairs that lead to the Queen’s chambers.

Viserea ignored the Lords and Ladies that offered their congratulations, letting Daemon and Rhaenyra, though it was mostly Rhaenyra, reply to them.

She returned Criston Cole’s glare as he noticed the three of them when they reached Alicent’s chambers. Without a word, he opened the door for them and they stepped inside.

“Viserea, I did not mean for you to come, also,” Alicent said in a voice full of false sympathy.

Viserea forced a polite smile and for her voice to come out as polite as she could.

“Yes, well, it is my first. I could not bear the thought of being away from her,” she replied.

“I heard we have another Targaryen princess. What did the handmaidens say her name was?” Alicent asked, coming over to Viserea and gently taking Daenyra from her.

“Daenyra,” Daemon replied, his eyes glued to Alicent as she held their daughter.

Alicent caught the ice in his voice but ignored it, plastering a fake smile on her face while Viserea gently squeezed his hand.

“A beautiful Valyrian name,” she complimented as Daemon and Rhaenyra helped Viserea sit down and the doors opened behind them.

“I heard I have a granddaughter!” Viserys said excitedly, making his way to Alicent and taking Daenyra from her.

“Yes. Viserea’s labors began in the night and Princess Daenyra was born less than two hours ago,” Rhaenyra said.

Viserea could see the way Rhaenyra was trying to bring light to how Alicent had forced this to happen after less than two hours of giving birth, but Viserys’ attention was too focused on the babe he held to notice.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful Princess,” he complimented, looking to Daemon and Viserea with a wide smile. “Am I to assume she is named after your sister and your uncle?” He asked.

Viserea gave him a small but genuine smile as she nodded, “Yes, she is. I would not have had the strength to deliver her without Rhaenyra’s help. It felt only right to honor her.”

“A noble act indeed,” Viserys complimented, either not noticing or choosing to ignore Alicent’s look of disbelief at him believing her reasoning.

A couple weeks later, Rhaenyra’s first son, Jacaerys Velaryon was born. Rhaenyra behaved the similarly to how Viserea had during her labors. Viserea, Elinda Massey, the midwife, and Maester Gerardys were the only ones allowed in the room, although Rhaenyra did allow for Jacaerys to be held by someone other than herself and the wet nurse in the first hour.

Jacaerys shared no resemblance with Laenor, a fact Queen Alicent was quick to point out, saying he must “heavily favor his mother” as she had made the same request for Jace to be brought to her chambers immediately. Viserys paid no attention to this remark, though it was obvious by the way Alicent glanced at the young Princess Daenyra in Viserea’s arms that she believed something else was taking place right under the noses.

After the birth of Jacaerys, Viserea and Daemon were allowed to remain in King’s Landing. They now spent half their time in King’s Landing with Rhaenyra and half their time back on Dragonstone. They never went more than a fortnight without seeing Rhaenyra.

The following year, Viserea and Rhaenyra both welcomed new sons at the Red Keep. Viserea welcomed Maelon Targaryen on the same day Rhaenyra welcomed Lucerys Velaryon.

It was Elinda Massey rushing into the room while Viserea was struggling in her labors that alerted them that Alicent had demanded to see Lucerys directly after Rhaenyra had given birth, and that she and Laenor were currently walking through the Red Keep up to the Queen’s chambers.

“I will have her head on a spike for this,” Daemon growled, his hand being crushed by Viserea’s as another wave of pain washed through her.

“I will not stop you, but only after Rhaenyra is crowned. Damning us all to death will do nothing but ensure her son is placed on the throne,” Viserea said through gritted teeth.

“Queen Alicent is also demanding the same of your babe, my Princess and Prince,” Elinda said. It was obvious by her voice that she did not agree nor wish to be the one passing along the command.

“Fine!”

“Gods be damned!” Daemon and Viserea shouted at the same time.

Daemon looked to Viserea as if she had grown a third head when she agreed.

“She will not get the pleasure of someone saying I’m too weak to go there, nor will she have a reason to separate my child from my side,” Viserea hissed to Daemon. “I made the walk a year ago, and I will do it again.”

For the briefest moment, Daemon saw the exact look his younger brother used to wear on Viserea’s face and he knew better than to try arguing with her.

As soon as the babe had been placed in Viserea’s arms, she was standing.

“Gods be good, the two of you are going to kill me,” Maester Gerardys grumbled, causing Viserea to chuckle.

“I’m assuming Rhaenyra did not allow for the afterbirth to pass before standing either, Maester,” Viserea said, gritting her teeth as another wave of pain washed through her, though much less severe than before.

Viserea passed Maelon to Daemon as the afterbirth passed and allowed her handmaidens to dress her, grateful for Amarda’s calming voice being there to help ground her.

Once the dress was tied, Viserea reached to take Maelon from Daemon.

“I will hold him,” Daemon said, offering his arm for Viserea instead.

“Daemon, I love you, but if you ever try to keep me from holding my children again, you will be a cockless man by the end of the night,” Viserea snapped, her violet eyes burning bright as she looked up at him.

“Fine,” Daemon grumbled, handing Maelon to Viserea, “but you will not walk alone or without assistance.”

“I should hope not,” Viserea said, adjusting Maelon so she could hold him with one arm and grip onto one of Daemon’s arms with the other.

Daemon’s other arm wrapped around her hip, gripping tight to the side of it to help support some of her weight.

“Thank you, my love,” Viserea said, her voice much kinder this time as they walked through the doors of the room.

With Daemon’s assistance, they began walking through the castle, eventually finding a trail of blood.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he grumbled, “I may start a war before the day is over.”

Viserea didn’t reply, her own anger at seeing Rhaenyra’s blood smeared down the halls mixed with the spasms of her muscles rendering her silent.

Lord Caswell’s congratulations were barely heard, though both Daemon and Viserea thanked him as they walked past him.

The rest of the walk to the Queen’s chambers, Viserea did not speak, though she heard Daemon’s forced polite replies to anyone who offered them anything beyond greetings.

When they entered Alicent’s chambers, Viserea found Rhaenyra, Viserys, and Laenor already there.

Viserea ignored the conversation that took place around them as Viserys proclaimed that two Princes being born on the same day was another way of the Gods proclaiming that Viserea and Rhaenyra were meant to be sisters.

She sat down next to Rhaenyra and it was obvious by the looks they exchanged that neither of them were happy about being there and they would both rather be in Rhaenyra’s chambers, which was large enough to house both of their families.

“Born on the same day, and they look similar enough to be twins themselves,” Alicent said, drawing Rhaenyra and Viserea’s attention from each other.

After Maelon and Lucerys’ births, the rumors began spreading. Rumors that Jacaerys and Lucerys were bastards fathered by Daemon. When Laena gave birth to her and Harwin’s twins in the year 116 AC, it both seemed to distract from the rumors and add to them.

Laena and Harwin’s children had the brown, curly hair of Harwin Strong, but their skin was a similar brown color to Laena’s. A color that was missing in Rhaenyra’s sons.

The group gathered a few days later at Driftmark this time. The twin girls, Baela and Rhaena, were showered with love, and a betrothal between them and Rhaenyra’s sons were arranged.

“I hope the betrothals do not come as a slight to you, Princess,” Rhaenys said to Viserea as the two met each other in the library.

Viserea smiled and shook her head,

“Of course not. Daenys and Maelon will not hold the same duties as Rhaenyra and Laenor’s sons. I would much rather the succession of the throne be secured,” she told Rhaenys honestly.

Rhaenys smiled at Viserea and sat next to her,

“I am glad you see it that way. If your opinion on the matter does change, let me know if there is some way Corlys and I can make amends,” she offered.

Viserea shook her head again,

“There is no slight to make amends for,” she reassured.

Honestly, even if Viserea had felt slighted, she would not have said anything. There was no guarantee that Jace and Luke were actually Laenor’s and if Laena’s children married Jace and Luke, it almost seemed as though no harm was done. The Velaryon name and blood would still sit the Iron Throne and inherit Driftmark.

Before the year’s end, Viserea and Daemon welcomed another daughter. This one was named Adlyn, after Viserea’s mother.

[aelyxtarg]

She finds out you are carrying her baby

[cheryroseart]

Commission of Aelora(OC) & Rhaenyra for @/DESOLATELUNA on twitter 💗

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-Please don’t repost without credits❕

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[ioaezz]

HOTD ♱ THE 30TH! ℳOONLIT ℳEETINGS

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ YEARS UPON YEARS THE ELDER SISTER of rhaenyra targaryen wondered as to how her luck never seemed to run out, that is until her unfortunate death that left the valyrian family shaken. whether she was blessed or cursed was up to perception as rhaenyra gave birth to her first child whom shared an eerily similar appearance with the late princess. . .

𝒫AIRING. . . slight!erryk cargyll x fem!oc, gwayne hightower x fem!oc, platonic!targ!family x oc

𝒲ORDCOUNT. . . 2.9k

𝒢ENRE. . . romance, fluff, series

𝒲ARNINGS. . . wounds, maedora’s obliviousness to love that isn’t platonic, lovesick gwayne, ooc gwayne?

ℐOAEZZ. . . don’t ask me anything about the timeline. i hate it.

𝕾er Erryk quickly concluded that it wasn't as easy to wash a cat as he had previously assumed.

"Quick! He's going to flee!" Susannah cried out, her hair a mess and her dress soaked. She ran around the chamber, nearly slipping on the water that had spilled on the floor in an attempt to catch Daemon.

The cat screeched in outrage as Ser Erryk ultimately caught him, his paws flailing around as he tried to scratch the knight, who dismissed the sting in his arms. Maedora hurriedly walked up to him, towel in hand, to dry the poor creature. The linen engulfed the small cat and once Daemon seemed assured that they wouldn't douse him in water again he calmed down in the knight's arms.

"Is he not adorable?" The princess cooed, gently scratching her pet behind its ear as it purred against Ser Erryk's chest. "Yes, princess," the man agreed, unmoving in his stance so as not to bother the cat.

"What a freak," Susannah muttered under her breath, glaring at the cat that was snuggled up in soft and warm fabric while she was stuck in her drenched dress. Maedora turned around to see the damage in the bathing chamber and almost winced at the sight before dismissing her handmaiden to change into something warmer. "Go change Suzy," the princess ordered softly, her friend nodding in gratitude before bowing scarcely.

"Thank you, princess. I shall send servants to clean this mess," she declared before leaving the knight and princess alone. Maedora looked up from Daemon and noticed the cuts on Ser Erryk's arms. Her fingers moved up to cradle his hands as the man watched her in wonder.

"You are injured," she noted, her tone rather clouded and the knight didn't know what to say except for a superficial 'yes, Princess'. She hummed taking Daemon from his grasp and began her trek back toward her bedchamber. Ser Erryk dutifully followed her like a shadow, the rattle of his armor filling the silence.

"Come in Ser Erryk," Maedora carelessly left the door to her personal chambers open, not waiting for the knight as she placed the bundle that held Daemon on top of her bed. The man wavered for a moment as it was highly inappropriate for him to be alone with the princess, especially in her room but didn't object as he shut the door behind him before stationing himself in front of it as he waited for another command. Maedora walked over to her vanity table, her feet so light against the floor, that it almost seemed as if she was floating around. She dug through the drawers and once she was prosperous in her search she veered around to face the knight who had not moved an inch. "Come, sit," she told him, as she sat down on the velvet couch which was situated beneath an extensive window. Upon the palpable hesitation, Maedora looked up with amusement shimmering in her lilac eyes, "I do not bite."

A ghost of a smile appeared on the knight's face as he sat down, making sure to maintain a fair distance, but the princess paid it no mind as she shuffled closer. Her delicate hands reached for his bruised arms before she laid them across her lap. Ser Erryk was certain that if someone were to catch sight of them, he would be stripped of his titles and honor, but he couldn't find it in himself to care as he basked in Maedora's attention and soft touch. She took a moist cloth and carefully pressed it against the numerous scratches to get rid of the blood, while her other hand comfortingly caressed the back of his hand in a mindless manner.

"Do you hear the birds?" The inquiry took Ser Erryk by surprise as he was roused from his stupor. He glanced at the girl beside him as she carefully tended to his wounds before taking a moment to listen. He strained to hear the faint singing of the birds and wondered for an instant how Maedora had managed to pick up on it so easily before nodding, choosing to remain silent.

"I find their songs rather beautiful. Mother always said that I am sensitive to beautiful things," her eyes flickered to meet his gray ones before looking back down to his hands. She gave no further explanation, leaving the knight to figure out if there was some hidden context behind it or whether it was a fleeting thought that she had wished to share. Nonetheless, Ser Erryk enjoyed her way of speaking and selected not to dwell on any additional possibilities.

"You should make sure to change the dressings before you go to sleep," Maedora proclaimed already standing as she was suddenly drawn to the vase filled with all various kinds of flowers that stood on top of her drawer. "Thank you, Princess," the knight thanked her, his sentences short but heartfelt, which she appeared to appreciate.

"I am aware that my father has sent you to look after me, but I am to remain in my chambers for the rest of the day so you are dismissed," the smile she sent him made his cheeks redden, and if she noticed, she didn't say anything of it. He solemnly nodded and stood from his seat, before he could depart her private chambers he felt her gentle touch stop him. As he turned around, he caught sight of the purple flowers that were in her grasp and said nothing as she handed them to him.

"It is called lavender, it's known for its healing properties," she clarified, almost shy as she had frequently heard other Ladies gossip and giggle about her odd infatuation with flowers. Ser Erryk's expression softened, his eyes conveying a thousand words his mouth could not and that was all the princess had needed to understand what he had wished to say. His rough fingers grazed the stems as he made an effort to carefully accept the flowers so as not to harm them. The contrast of the delicateness of the flower and the rigor of his hand was particularly prominent, but it was rather endearing to Maedora.

The two shared a last smile, wishful words remaining unspoken as he took his leave with the flowers in hand. He didn't bother to pay anyone any mind as he quickly stopped by his own, much smaller quarters to gently put the flowers in a bowl with water. He made sure not to drown them before returning to his post with a much gentler grace than before, which was the effect that the eldest princess seem to have on most people.

Dinner was certainly eventful that evening as Maedora decided to bring her new pet along much to Rhaenyra's delight.

Her mother grimaced at the sight of the cat that was seated on her daughter's lap before sending her husband a look, but the king seemed delighted by the creature.

"Where have you found the cat, dear?" Viserys questioned, curious about his daughter's escapades. It was known to most that the king was infatuated with his eldest and her odd interests which were deemed inappropriate by some, but he always vigorously defended her.

"In a tree," she smiled, playing with the soup in front of her. Her family settled on leaving the question of how she got it out of there unanswered and quickly moved on.

"Does it have a name?" Rhaenyra cooed, already mesmerized by the sweet cat that preened under her affections. "Daemon," her father choked on his soup, servants quickly rushing over to aid him while her mother chuckled. "What a particular choice, sweet girl," Aemma smiled and Rhaenyra took a minute to purely appreciate the moment where the people dearest to her were enjoying themselves without a worry.

The conversation turned towards Rhaenyra and her dragon, Syrax whom she had taken on a flight earlier that day which then turned to her notifying them about an important decision she had taken.

"Sister, I have thought about what you said earlier this morning," Maedora turned to her, curiosity laced in her expression as she gave her full attention to her younger sister who seemed negligibly unsure. Their parents were surprised that Rhaenyra had come to a decision so early on, but were both pleased as they had thought that she would only stretch it on for much longer.

"I believe the way to determine who would be best fitted for you is to organize a ball. We will be able to see all of your potential suitors and select the most promising one," Viserys thought about it for a moment before nodding in agreement, already planning which houses he would need to notify of the event.

"That is a wonderful idea. Thank you Rhaenyra," the younger princess beamed at her sister, proud to have pleased her, and started clarifying further details. "When is this ball going to transpire?" Aemma wondered as she worried about the safety of it all, but she too knew it was time her eldest got married.

"Perhaps after the tourney on my nameday ?" Maedora suggested as she didn't mind the prospect of getting married as long as it didn't interfere with her own interests. "So soon already?" Aemma frowned, not wishing to see her sweet daughter truly become a woman of society, but Viserys quickly soothed her. "It is the perfect timing! There shall be plenty of honorable suitors present for Maedora's nameday that she won't have to go on a marriage tour. It is utmost convenient!" The king enthusiastically spoke.

"Very well then," Aemma's spirit slightly dampened, but she managed to send a weak smile at Maedora who didn't seem displeased with it all.

"Great!" Rhaenyra exclaimed before wrapping an arm around her sister's shoulder, "I will be there with you, and we shall find the perfect husband for you." The two princesses leaned into one another's touch and grinned in contentment. The remaining duration of dinner was spent conversing about Maedora's nameday.

Once she was excused from the table, she snuck away from her handmaiden with Daemon in her arms to her favourite clearing. Night had graced the sky once again, and moonlight lit the way for the princess as she journeyed the familiar path. When she reached the clearing, she let go of her cat to roam around as she approached a dim figure that was lying in the grass, right underneath the angelic moon. A large smile spread across her face once she realized who it was before impatiently running over. The figure who was lying down quickly sat up to see who had arrived, but only managed to let out a huff as the princess jumped into his arms.

"Gwayne!" She cheerfully exclaimed, her arms tightening around his neck as she breathed in his soothing fragrance. The boy's arms wrapped around her waist as a laugh left him, falling back into the grass as the two continued to hug each other. His auburn hair tickled her cheek, but she paid no mind to it as their bodies intermingled, familiar with every part of one another.

"I have missed you, Dora," he nearly whispered, and the girl merely tightened her arms around him. His hand stroked the back of her head that was hidden in the crook of his neck as she nearly laid on top of him while his other hand rested on her waist. The cold night air nipped at their skin, but they didn’t care for it as their bodies kept each other warm. Maedora pulled her face away from his neck to face him for the first time and examined his features with a smile.

"You look pretty," she mumbled as the boy smiled widely, placing a kiss on her cheek. A giggle left her lips as she weaved her hand through his hair, playing with the lengthy strands. "No prettier than you. You are simply ravishing dear," Gwayne had almost forgotten the fervent delight he felt around the princess but was elated to be reminded of it as warmth filled his heart once more.

Blush spread across her cheeks, and the boy took satisfaction in the sight of it as he softly caressed the pink-tinted skin on her face. "You cannot leave me again," Maedora murmured as she engulfed him again, reveling in his affections. "I wouldn't dream of it," the promise appeased the princess as silence filled the clearing. Their breathing was intermingled, and their heartbeats thrummed loudly in their chests.

"I got you a present," Gwayne abruptly proclaimed, and Maedora quickly sat up, her legs straddling her friend beneath her. She absolutely adored presents, and he knew that as he watched her with loving eyes. "What is it?" Her novelty couldn't be contained as she intertwined her fingers with his while he mischievously grinned.

"It is a surprise," the princess let out an impatient whine. Gwayne tugged her back into him, wrapping his defined arms firmly around her.

"I had your maid place it in your chambers but let us remain here for a little while more for I have truly missed you more than you could imagine," Maedora softened at his words as she, too, recalled the days she spent wishfully thinking of him."I love your hugs the most," her words spread warmth into him, and he pressed a kiss against the side of her head as a reply.

Hours were spent in the clearing, Maedora having fallen asleep long ago, while Gwayne made sure to capture everything about her so he wouldn't dare to forget this precious moment. It was only when the sun started ascending and birds roused that Gwayne decided to awaken the princess gently. The sight of her friend whom she hadn't seen in almost a year made her overlook all of her obligations for a moment before he urged her to get back to bed. Gwayne assisted her up and let her lean on him as she tried to wake up entirely.

"My cat," she mumbled, and the boy quickly spotted the white creature dozing off underneath the tree. He led her over to Daemon, and she leaned down to pick him up carefully, but the cat didn't seem to mind as it continued its sleep. Gwayne proceeded to guide the princess back to her bedchamber quietly and sent seething looks at maids and knights who were being too clamorous for his sweet Dora, who had yet to wake up properly.

He pushed the door to her chamber open and ushered her over to her bed before helping her lay down. As Maedora got more comfortable, he made sure she was covered by the duvet before kneeling in front of her bed. The princess opened her eyes, a soft but fatigued smile gracing her features as she peeked at him, which made him smile in turn.

"Sleep, I will tell you all about my adventures in Old town once you awaken," Gwayne vowed, placing a prolonged kiss on her forehead. "Gwayne?" The boy hummed as he played with her hair, admiring her beauty for as long as possible. "Meet me in the trees," the words caused the boy to chuckle before nodding. He pressed one final kiss against her head, his heart yearning to stay with her, but he resisted the heartache as he quietly walked away.

Later that morning, Maedora would awaken with the pleasant surprise of a present sitting prettily on her desk. The princess grinned, shoving the covers aside as she hopped out of bed to see what her friend had gotten her. She took a seat on the desk chair and curiously opened the package, which unveiled two books. One was considerably smaller with a faded pink cover and golden engravings that said 'Fairies of the flowers and trees'. The sight made her smile as she recollected sending him a letter about silly stories that described all sorts of mythical beings, but she hadn't presumed that he'd ever even remember it.

The second book was an opaque green color and appeared extensively ancient. The words on the lid were written in High Valyrian which stunned the princess as she read it 'Flowers of High Valyria'. An excited sentiment surged through her to read it, but she put the books aside as she caught sight of a remote bouquet which was fastened together by a string. The shade of the white carnations matched her hair, and Maedora brought them closer to her face to catch a breath of the scent.

Gwayne Hightower certainly knew how to impress Maedora Targaryen.

the 30TH © ioaezz, 2024.

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Could you please write a prequel to the Daemon x Stepdaughter au where she injures her leg after tripping down the stairs so he carries her back and fondles her body while pleasuring himself after she’s drowsy from milk of the poppy.

A/N: I hope you like it!

pairing: Dark!Daemon Targaryen x Stepdaughter!Reader

summary: she injures her leg after tripping down the stairs so he carries her back and fondles her body while pleasuring himself after she’s drowsy from milk of the poppy.

Word count: 1,3K

Warnings: Somnophilia, groping, jerking off, unconscious blowjob

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

"Don't run!" Jace yelled after you trying to keep up with your quick steps. You giggled loving this game of tag you were playing with your brother.

"You can never catch me" You called over your shoulder. You scrambled down some stairs where your mother and stepfather were sat reading some papers.

You let out a loud scream when you ankle gave out under your twisting in a weird angle on the last step. Daemon and your mother were quick to their feet running over to you worried.

"Mommy! My ankle hurts" You cried tears streaming down your rosy cheeks. Rhaenyra ran a hand through your hair to calm you down.

"i'll take her to the maesters" Daemon was quick to suggest. He crouched down to pick up bridal style in his strong and muscular arms.

"I'll come with you" By then Jace had reached your small crowd. He looked worried as well, being older than you he viewed himself responsible for your safety even now when you were ten and five namedays.

"No you continue with the letters, she's in good hands" Daemon assured your mother. You leaned your head on his shoulder letting your tears soak his shirt as the throbbing grew worse.

"Alright then" She wrapped an arm around Jace to comfort him. Daemon looked down at you with a weird glint as he walked away from them.

The maester's room was not far away and soon you were laying on the bed in his room as he wrapped bandages around your ankle. You held onto Daemon for support through the pain.

"Can you not give her something for the pain? Milk of poppy?" Daemon suggested heart twisting at the sight of you in so much pain. You cried harder when the maester tightened the bandages trying to push down the swelling.

"Of course, your grace" The maester nodded at his assistant to bring milk of the poppy. You accepted the cup without a second thought wanting this pain to go away.

"Shh, everything will get better" Daemon pushed you hair back and let you lean against him when the effect started showing.

You felt dizzy and out of your own body of that were possible. One second you were in the maester's room and the next you were laying limp in Daemon's arms and soon he laid you in your own bed but it was like flashes in time for you, everything happening in a blink of an eye.

Daemon intended to place you in your bed to rest and sleep off the effects of milk of the poppy but you rolled over several times trying to find a comfortable position forcing your dress to rile up showing your silky smooth skin. He wanted to feel it, his hand moved before his could stop himself.

His fingers tickled up from your bandaged ankle up to the back of your knee and you thigh while you laid on your stomach unaware. His cock stirred noticing the dress bunched around your waist showing your linen beneath covering your behind from him.

"Oh gods" Daemon did not know what possessed him to press down on his cock but found it rock hard paining him even more.

"Oh what are you doing to me?" His rhetorical question remained unanswered as you snored away. He slowly pulled his cock out of his trouser needing relief or he will explode.

He groaned knowing you won't feel or hear anything, not when you were under the effects of milk of the poppy. His hand moved slowly teasing himself by running a finger over his mushroomed tip, red and swollen. His other hand groped your bottom feeling the flesh there, just perfect for him, enough skin for him to hold if he were to fuck you.

He whined needy at the idea of him rutting inside of you. With you on your back and your legs around his waist or up in the air or even over his shoulder while he hammered inside of you. His fist moved with the rhythm of his rutting in his imagination.

Or maybe with you on your belly moaning like a bitch in heat as he slammed is hips into your with the intend to fill you with his seed. He longed for the day he could have you on your knees before him sucking at his cock, so big for you, you would have tears streaming down your cheeks chocking and gagging with droll rolling down your chin.

"Fuck" His head fell back as his imagination ran wild, his fist moving at an impossible speed while his other one moved bellow you between the mattress and you to grope at your tits, still developing on size but perfect nonetheless.

"You're so perfect" He groaned eyes racking over your body. His imagination moved on to you on your fours with him fucking you from behind, making scream for the whole world to know who you belonged to. Even better you had a pregnant belly and still needy for him to fuck you despited having been seeded. Daemon would comply without a second thought.

"My perfect girl" He moaned as his peak washed over him. He almost fell on top of you but held himself in time. His eyes widened in joy at the sight of his cum on your bottom, perfect and thick, white in color in contrast with your black gown and matching your white linen.

"One day it will be inside of your cunny, perfect girl" He whispered in your ear. You lifted your head, eyes unfocused.

"Go back to sleep" He ran a hand through your hair. You closed your eyes obeying him feeling your head thud with pain. When he was sure you were asleep he leaned his hips closer to your lips letting his tip run over your lips hardening again already. His body shivered when a couple of drops of his cum coated your lips.

"Holy fucking shit" he cursed. He could not help himself but push further forcing your lips apart and placed his tip inside. You were too far gone to know what was going on but you felt something inside your mouth and sucking trying to get it in imagining it was food.

"Gods" Daemon cried as the suction. You groaned at the loud voice and tried again sucking it whatever was in your mouth feeling your stomach ache with hunger.

"Good girl" Daemon praised pushing the tip of his cock in and out of you. He shivered getting needy all over again.

"Perfect girl for kepa" Father. One of his hand held your head in place by your hair and the other one moved to rub the area he did not push inside of your mouth.

"Kepa" You tried saying in your sleep but it came out muffled with your mouth full. The vibrations were heavenly.

"Yes, kepa is here" he urged. You moaned feeling the effects of milk of the poppy begin to wear off making your head pound. That was the end for Daemon making him cum in your mouth. He groaned so loud he was sure the servants outside must have heard him as they passed by.

"Goddammit" he cursed pulling away from your perfect mouth. He immediately noticed you beginning to wake up the second he recovered from his second orgasm. He tucked himself back inside his trousers hissing at the touch of the fabric still sensitive.

Your eyes opened just after he had tucked his shirt inside hiding any evidence that he was indecent for a second, not like it mattered. You were still drowsy from the drug.

"Kepa" You rolled on your side holding your arms open for him wanting to be comforted. Daemon moved to lay beside you and held you in his arms smirking darkly into your hair.

"Yes, kepa is here" He muttered into your hair. He did not care for anyone walking in with you two in this position, in their eyes he was a father comforting his pained daughter even if you were not of his blood he has always treated you as such.

[prettymuchteddy]

The Invitation

Summary: When Lord Gareth is invited to King Viserys' castle on the nearly desolate island of Dragonstone, he is not prepared to come face to face with the King's daughter, Rhaenyra. However, the longer he stays the more he becomes convinced something is odd about the Princess.

Read on AO3

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Alicent Hightower, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Original female characters

Warning: horror themes, vampires, mild blood, biting, blood drinking, polyamorous relationship, character death, and murder

Words: 3,744

A/N: I was inspired to write this after watching Van Helsing. So it has heavy Dracula vibes. Hope you enjoy it!

A knock came from the door.

The man outside hid underneath the arch of the looming structure. Rain poured down on his coat, soaking through. His boots were flooded by the onslaught of water. He released a shaky breath as he knocked again.

“Hello?” He called out; however, the storm was more powerful than his voice.

Yet, his plea seemingly worked when the mahogany doors creaked open. He stepped inside without a second thought.

The warmth of the castle enveloped his trembling figure. He straightened himself to look presentable. He fought against making a face when his drenched shoes squeaked when touching the dark carpet.

“Lord Gareth, I presume?” A voice asked.

The man lifted his head to find a woman standing a few feet from him. He was quick to notice her beauty. She was pale but not as pale as her white hair which had been tied back in a rigid braid. Her elegant long black dress dragged behind. Her light-colored eyes stared him down.

“Yes, I’m Lord Gareth, um I received an invitation from King Viserys…” His eyes wandered trying to find another soul in the castle.

“I can assure you; you’ve come to the right place. My father was the one who wrote you the letter.”

“Your father?” The man seemed confused.

“I’m Princess Rhaenyra.” She smiled.

“Oh.” He fixed his posture. “Forgive me, Your Highness, I was not aware.”

She waved a hand. “There’s no need for such formalities, Lord Gareth. My father is not here at the moment.”

“Pardon? King Viserys isn’t here?”

“No, he went on a hunting trip, but he’ll return in the morning.”

The man glanced at the door. “Forgive me for arriving so early.”

“Again there is no need to apologize. I can arrange a room for you.”

“That’s very generous of you, Your Highness, but I do not want to impose.”

“There’s a storm outside and it’s a long way down the hill again, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Are you sure I wouldn’t be a bother?”

“Of course not, we would love to have you.”

He picked up his bag. “Thank you, your highness.”

She smiled and reached out her hand for him to take. “Welcome to my house, my lord, I hope you find it to your liking. We here in Dragonstone are known for our hospitality. So much so people tend to never leave.”

The flight of stairs seemed to go on forever. Each step resulted in a small groan from the man as he climbed up. The castle’s massive size became clear when the ceiling rose to its curved arches. Dark chandeliers hung from the ceiling and how they had even placed them up there was its own mystery. A chill brushed by his neck the higher they went. He kept his calm, following her down a narrow path. The stone walls made it seem like a barricaded fortress rather than the elegant castle he had expected.

The princess turned down a hallway. Her steps were oddly silent against the wooden floorboards. He dragged his bag behind with a tired arm. His heavy feet stomped across the red carpet. Despite his noise, the princess did not utter a word, her relaxed and quiet presence was not interrupted in the least. She abruptly stopped in front of a door.

“This will be your room for the night.”

With a limp hand, he reached out and turned the handle. The door swung to reveal a plain room with a simple bed, nightstand, and cabinet drawer. It was painted in a dull beige color, and there was no piece of décor in sight. Even the floor lacked a carpet. This was it?

Gareth glanced back at the princess. He expected her to look inside the room and realize its conditions were lacking as well. Perhaps recognize that an error had been made.

She was serious however, there was no mistake.

“Get some rest, my lord. I’ll call you down for supper time soon enough.”

She left before he could respond.

He turned back to his room. “No better rooms in this place? I doubt it,” he muttered to himself.

Gareth closed the door behind him. He dropped his bag to the floor, letting it land with a thud. The exhaustion of the day’s journey was beginning to set, and the bed was looking tempting. His eyes were drooping from tiredness. He laid down on the bed, deciding to close his eyes for a little bit. Just as he was falling asleep, he could see a soft glow before succumbing to the darkness.

He awoke when he heard someone’s voice. It was as clear as the cool air he breathed. His eyes scanned the living quarters. The room was darker than before, but nothing was out of place. Only the sound of his own heartbeat rang through. No one was here, yet he swore something whispered in his ear.

Leaning down, he pulled up his boots from the floor.

A shuffle came from behind the door.

He froze.

In the small gap of the door, there was little light. Carefully he approached the door. His timid hand grabbed the handle and opened it to reveal nothing on the other side.

Within the corner of his eye, he saw something move. His gaze went down the long hall. The noise sounded again.

Gareth followed the noise down through the halls. He passed by the individual doors, leading to an open area. He realized he was in a large drawing room from the sofas and small tables. Seated at the head of one of these tables was a woman with dark hair. Her eyes flickered to him.

“Hello,” she spoke gently.

“Hello…” He paused. “Forgive me I wasn't aware there was someone here.”

“Well as you can see, I’m here.” She smiled.

He chuckled lightly. “Yes, clearly.”

She gestured toward the seat across from her. “Would you like to sit?”

He glanced back to the chair. “Yes, thank you.”

“How do you like to play?” She asked while setting down a stack of cards. “Any wagers?”

He glanced at her while she shuffled the deck. A necklace hung around her pale neck. Her smile was gentle and soft, just like the rest of her. She was beautiful beyond words. He relaxed his shoulders.

“Ten gold coins.”

“So, you’re a betting man then?” A voice said.

He flinched. From the corner of his eye, he saw another woman seated beside him. He whipped his head around.

Her hair was a fiery red, cascading down her shoulders. The deep blue eyes scanned the table, quickly finding a pile of cards already set. She grabbed them, bringing them close to her chest.

“You’ll be playing too?” The brunette asked out loud.

“Always,” a low voice answered.

Gareth turned to where another woman had sat beside him. Her fingers caressed the cards as she organized the deck she’d been dealt. Her dark brown eyes were like deep pools he felt he could almost jump into.

“Will you be placing anything to wager?” The brunette inquired to the others.

“No,” the redhead said promptly. “I’ve learned my lesson in the past.”

“I wouldn’t suggest gambling,” the most recent arrival mentioned. “It’s a terrible habit.”

“Old habits tend to be difficult to stop.”

She leaned closer. “Even when they’re terrible?”

“Terrible things tend to be the most exciting,” he flirted.

Her lips curled up in amusement. “How so?”

“Have you ever been to the North?”

“No, sadly never gotten the chance.”

“It’s a frigid wasteland with half-barbaric living conditions. Yet you can feel your blood pumping there as the harsh wind blows on her face. Makes you feel alive.”

She hummed in interest. “Have you gone to very many places?”

“Yes, and I’ve written of them too. I have quite a few books under my name.”

“I must read your work sometime, Lord Gareth.”

“I’d love to show you, lady…”

“-Alicent,” she finished for him. Her gaze went toward the other women present.

“Since you’re a guest Lord Gareth, would you like to set any rules?” The brunette asked.

He tore his attention away from Alicent and back to the cards. He only then realized he had no idea what they were playing.

“Need help?” The redhead whispered near his ear.

He was caught off guard by her sudden presence. She did not look like she cared as she leaned closer.

“Is there a specific way you like to play, lord Gareth?” She stood from her seat and positioned herself on the edge of his armrest. “We have our own way of doing things here on Dragonstone, but we’re always happy to amuse guests.”

The warmth ran to his face when her hands ghosted over his hair. He found it hard to look away from her. His throat was dry as she looked him up and down.

“Are you always this shy, Lord Gareth?”

He couldn’t find the words to speak. Her lip quirked up in amusement. He was not prepared to feel her lips on his neck. Good gods help him. Her soft breathing made his breath hitch.

Everything was becoming a hazy blur as the other women stood from their seats and approached. He swore his senses would have driven him mad if the door had not opened roughly.

The redhead suddenly jumped off him. He blinked a few times before remembering where he was. The embarrassment flooded his features within moments.

The princess was standing between him and the other women. “Dyanna, what have I told you about how we treat our guests?” She scolded the redhead.

Gareth straightened himself to try and save whatever dignity he had left.

“And Lenora, Alicent, you cannot simply enable what she does.”

They lowered their heads when the princess spoke to them. He figured they were probably servant girls. Still, he did find it odd that they all wore white dresses and had jewelry. Perhaps they were ladies-in-waiting instead.

“Lord Gareth,” the princess finally acknowledged him. “Supper is ready, please follow me.”

He did as she asked and walked behind her toward the dining room.

The table was already set when they walked inside. Two plates of food were waiting for them and wine filling the brim of two goblets. Princess Rhaenyra sat at the head of the table without a word. She calmly took her utensils and began cutting into her meat.

There was thick silence enveloping the dining room. The clacking of the silverware filled the dry atmosphere. He avoided looking directly at the princess.

“Lord Gareth,” she abruptly cut through the tension. “Forgive my ladies for their behavior. They simply got excited. We don’t get very many guests often.”

“It’s alright, Your Highness. I’m sure your ladies did not mean any harm.” He paused. “Have they served you long?”

“I’ve been with them for ages. With so much time together, you grow fond of each other.”

“It does help that Dragonstone is such a small island.”

She hummed to herself. “They say that home is where the heart is. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“You wouldn’t consider traveling?”

“Oh, not anytime soon, though I did much in the past as did my father.”

“Truly?”

She nodded. “Tell me, Lord Gareth, do you tend to travel much?”

He lifted up his gaze. “Yes, I do.”

“How often are you away from home?”

He sighed. “Months at a time usually.”

“I’m sure your wife gets lonely without you around.”

“I’m not married, Your Highness, my wife passed on many years ago.”

“My condolences.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you at least have an heir waiting for you at home?”

He gave a short laugh. “Not really. I only have a daughter; nothing will pass to her.”

This seemed to grab the princess’ attention as her gaze was torn from her food. “You have a daughter? How old is she?”

“Ten and three.”

“She’s very young,” the princess muttered.

“Indeed. She spends her time with her maids and ladies.”

“Are you so sure? You do travel often.”

He gulped down the wine. “I imagine that’s what she does. I admit, I know very little of where her time is spent. But what man isn’t in the dark about what women think?”

“One must be around to understand,” she whispered.

“She’s used to it, I’ve traveled since she was a babe. Believe me, Your Highness, when you marry and have children, you’ll see for yourself.”

The princess’ eyes seemed to flicker oddly. He blinked a few times. The wine was surely getting to him.

“If I should be so lucky.”

She stood from her seat, neatly tucking her chair back into its original position. Her gaze returned to him.

“Would you like to tell me more as we wait for the desert? I can show you some of my father’s relics from his travels if you’d like.”

Gareth stood from his seat, slightly confused but willing to amuse the princess’ request.

The hall became narrow as they went downstairs. Whatever chill he felt before was amplified further by where they were headed. With little decorations, the stone structure was beginning to look more foreboding. The only things that he could find to dress the bare space were a few portraits hung along the sides.

He looked over at one painting of three people. He recognized the girl in the portrait as the princess despite how young she was. Her white hair was loose with a crown resting on top. Beside her was a man and a woman, both with the same pale hair. Gareth imagined them to be her parents. They stood in front of the drawing room he had come upon earlier, though the room was painted a different color there than it was now. The portrait had dust along the frame. He wondered why the king had chosen to let this part of the castle get like this. They had servants clearly.

“Did your father take the jewelry during his travels?” He asked.

“Pardon?” The princess’ face scrunched up slightly.

“I noticed that one of your ladies was wearing an older relic.”

Rhaenyra nodded carefully. “It is likely, in all honesty, I like to give them gifts often.”

“I believe you might be spoiling your servants too much, Your Highness,” he chuckled.

“How come?”

“The relic your lady Lenora, I think was her name, was wearing is over three hundred years old.”

Rhaenyra hummed in interest. “Truly?”

“Yes, during my travels I’ve gone to many castles both ruled by lords, and some left in ruins. One of them was Harrenhal. It used to be the seat of House Strong, but the family line went extinct more than three hundred years ago. Their sigil was a hand with the colors red, green, and blue. The necklace your lady wore had that same hand in the pendant and the gems were of the same house colors.”

“Huh. For a relic it seemed to be kept in very good condition, I would hardly know.”

Gareth smiled. “Well princess, not everything is like what it seems.”

The princess beamed. “Always fascinating to learn new things.”

He glanced outside through a window. The storm was growing worse as its howls shook the glass.

“Does King Viserys always go hunting so late in the night?”

“No, he hasn’t in many years.”

“Was today a special occasion?”

“When he left the castle, it was to celebrate the birth of his son.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“He’s not here. He’s with my mother. They’re resting downstairs. Would you like to meet them?”

Gareth tilted his head, slightly. Curiosity overtook him. He didn’t know the queen and prince were here. The king failed to mention them in the invitation he sent.

His feet guided him to where the princess moved. Confusion began to fill his mind when the lights dimmed the more they walked. A stillness gripped the castle. Princess Rhaenyra held the door open for him. He stepped inside of a dark area.

“Right up ahead,” she said.

His eyes narrowed in the shadows. He was cautious of where he stepped. It was completely quiet. A wall stood out to him as something shined when he got closer.

They were silver plaques placed on the stone. It had engravings written. Aemma Arryn 82 AC to 105 AC, Baelon Targaryen 105 AC to 105 AC.

His eyes followed the wall to where two crypts rested.

Gareth stepped backward. “I don’t…you said your father was celebrating.”

“He was…when he left.”

He looked over the years again. 105 AC. That was five hundred years ago.

Rhaenyra began pacing slowly along the cellar. “Usually there would have been more time, but I don’t like to keep my loves waiting too long.”

The man narrowed his eyes as if confused. “I don’t understand…Where’s King Viserys?”

Rhaenyra reared her head. A smile curled on her lips where sharp teeth pointed out. Those unusual violet eyes of her began glowing in the dark. “There is no King Viserys. There hasn’t been for many years. I am the Queen of this castle.”

His expression twisted in shock.

Rhaenyra paid no mind to it, however. “Enjoy your gift,” she said out loud.

The man’s brows furrowed. “What?”

He had little time to process her words as within seconds the three servant women were upon him. They grabbed his arms and pulled at his dress shirt, tearing it to shreds with the strength of wild animals. He tried to push them away, but they latched onto him with a ferocity he couldn’t understand. The redhead, Dyanna, dug her nails into his skin to bare his neck out. A scream ripped from his throat when her teeth pierced through his exposed neck.

“Don’t be shy now,” The princess mocked with a sweet voice. “Were you not eager before when my fiery Dyanna had her lips on your neck?”

He kicked at their hands on his limbs, but they were strong, inhumanly so. The brunette was quick to try to stop his resistance by biting into his shoulder blade. Her sharp teeth dragged against the bone underneath his skin. Another scream of anguish vibrated through the crypt.

“Or when my sweet Lenora invited you for a game under the cover of night? I believed a man like yourself to have more honor than to meet a maiden in the late hours.”

He grabbed at a lock of hair and pulled it, hoping it would be enough to get them away. A hiss came from one of them. He caught a glimpse of glowing blue irises with the white in the eyes being completely gone, replaced with a black emptiness. His hand which gripped at the hair was snatched at the wrist. A loud snap rang out. Gareth screamed as his wrist went limp to his side.

“No clever quips to say to my devoted Alicent? Did you think yourself on her level with your dull travels and flimsy writing?” The princess continued.

The fangs would not let him go. He squirmed in their hold but felt his strength leaving him. The pain was too much. His eyes closed one final time.

Alicent was the first to pull away. She let his limp arm fall onto the cold floor. Her fingers wiped the blood running down her throat, careful to make sure it did not land on her dress and stain it.

The corpse fell with a dull thud when the other two released their grip.

Lenora licked the blood off her lips, her dark brown hair cascading down her face. “You spoiled us this time.”

Dyanna wiped her hand of any droplets. “Yes, how very generous of you.” She raised a suspicious brow.

Rhaenyra gently lifted up her chin. A small smile on her features. “Am I not allowed to be kind to my own wives?”

Dyanna smirked. “I never said it wasn’t welcomed, only a surprise is all.”

Lenora looked over the corpse, a pout on her face. “Rhaenyra are you not hungry? You didn’t have a bite.”

“I’m alright. He was meant for you three.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am, though I’m touched you thought of me.”

“He didn’t put up that much of a fight,” Alicent nonchalantly. “Do you think he was exhausted already?”

“No, if anything he slept very soundly,” Dyanna scoffed. “I could hear him snoring all the way from my coffin.”

Lenora giggled. “Is that what that was? I thought it was one of the rats.”

“That’s an insult to the rats,” Dyanna mused.

“How did you get this one?” Alicent glanced at the body.

“You heard him, he loves to travel, so I imagined his interest would be piqued if the king of Dragonstone wrote him an invitation.” Rhaenyra looked at the dead man. “Turns out I was right.”

“Any relatives that may come looking for him?” Lenora inquired.

“None that will miss him very much,” Rhaenyra stated.

Dyanna wrapped her arms around Lenora’s waist. “I very nearly thought he would figure it out.” She eyed the brunette’s necklace. “He was rather perspective.”

Rhaenyra approached Lenora, gently caressing the jewelry adorning her neck. “He came close but not close enough, unfortunately for him.”

“You’d think with your little stunt in the drawing room, he’d realize something,” Alicent mused.

Rhaenyra turned to Dyanna. “About that, next time my love, be a bit more patient. We don’t need to get so aggressive so early.”

Dyanna smirked, showing off her fangs. “But you love it when I’m aggressive.”

Rhaenyra tilted her chin up, affectionally. “You know what I mean.”

Alicent felt the air shift, becoming warmer. “It’s almost morning.”

The princess smiled at her wives. “That’s enough excitement for one night. Let’s get some rest.”

Lenora and Dyanna were the first to begin heading toward their tombs. Alicent stayed behind scanning the corpse.

Rhaenyra noticed. “What is it, my love?”

“I was wondering how I should get rid of it. I don’t want it leaving a foul smell.”

“I appreciate your concern, Alicent, but I will take care of it.”

Her first bride sighed. “You understand we can handle things for you? Your kindness is not lost on me, but we can take care of you as well.”

“I know, and you already do take care of me.” Rhaenyra lifted up her chin softly. “Now get some rest.”

Alicent smiled. “Don’t take too long, we’ll be waiting for you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[thegreengnome]

Could you write one where Rhaenyra falls in love with handmaiden!reader on Dragonstone?

Sorry, for the delay in requests, I have just started back up at work! But I will get through all the requests I promise! Anyway, I hope you like his one!

Dipping her little finger into the bathtub. Y/N winces at the too-hot water. Too hot for her but perfect for her mistress. The steam rising from the tub steaming up the room.

Satisfied with the temperature. Y/N empties the remaining bottles of smelling soaps into the steaming tub. Y/N was not ashamed to admit that she used her favourite smelling bottles.

The room was set up ready for the Targaryen princess, the bath in the centre, her robe hanging over a chair and her dressing table ready for the princesses to be pampered afterwards. Y/N walks into the adjoining room to attend to her lady who had been sat patiently waiting for her bath.

“Tis ready for you, my lady”

The princess looks up with her wide crooked smile, putting her book to the side of her, she stands. Y/N notes that the book now safely tucked away contained the histories of Westeros. A subject the young maid found ever so tiring when read to her but knew the princesses loved to re-read.

Leading the delight into the chamber next door, Y/N helps her disrobe before assisting her into the tub. Noting the ease at which she slid into the boiling water with a quick burst of jealously.

The sigh of relaxation that leaves the princess is a sound that brings Y/N joy. To help her mistress in any way was her purpose in life and a job she did with pride.

“Wash my hair for me dear Y/N”

Obliging right away, Y/N saturates the gleaming hair in the now warm water, lathering up a generous number of oils into her palms. Threading her fingers into and between the hairs, making sure that the oil was spread all about. Her fingers scratching at Rhaenyra’s scalp.

They were both now truly content. A princess and her maid or more accurately a princess and her lover.

There love was a simple one. No expectations. Just the two of them in their own little world.

Once happy with the now clean hair, Y/N helps Rhaenyra dry off. Making sure not to take too long least her mistress catch a cold.

Rhaenyra huffs out a laugh at the look of pure utter concentration on Y/N’s face as she makes sure her princess is dry. Her tongue stuck out at all angles as she wiped her down.

“I think that is enough, my sweet”

Cupping her maids jaw, she moves her thumb back and forth before moving it down towards her chin, gripping it gently to make sure she had the girl’s full attention.

Using her grip, Rhaenyra brings the maid closer and closer until their lips brush. The kiss is slow and sensual. The grip on the chin remains.

“Now” pulling away from one another “We have some time before the feast. How ever shall we spend it?”

Y/N loved the cheeky smile that so few seemed to have witnessed “I may have an idea or two” and if the maid had to drag clean water back up to the room afterward to wash the princesses back off who was she to complain.

[livingdreams97]

Rhaenyra Targaryen -"The Personal Guard." (Part 5)

Rhaenyra Targaryen x Male reader/oc

Summary: The barely known third son of Lord Lyonel Strong, surprisingly ends up becoming the personal guard of none other than the Targaryen princess, after an incident in the forest.

Words: 4.927

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POV You

I wake up thanks to the intensity of the light in the room and the background noise of the city. I shift a little in bed, feeling a weight on my chest and I open my eyes scared. But I immediately relax when I see platinum hair and know who it is.

So I relax back against the mattress, closing my eyes and enjoying the quiet of the morning.

But my relaxation is short-lived, when I realize that it is already daylight and that Rhaenyra is still in my bed. I open my eyes again scared and start to move the princess.

Y/n: Rhae wake up.- I ask a little fast, scared that somehow someone will find out what happened last night.

Rhaenyra: Five more minutes.- she murmurs, snuggling closer to my chest.

Y/n: We don't have five minutes.- I whisper stressed. -It's daylight and people are already awake.- I tell her, pushing her aside and getting up quickly from the bed. -They can't see you leave my bedroom, especially at this time of the morning and with the clothes you were wearing last night.- I assure her nervously, putting on my clothes in an fast and clumsy way.

Rhaenyra: Y/n calm down.- I hear her from my back and I turn to see her surprised.

Y/n: That I calm down? - I ask surprised. -Don't you understand that if someone sees you leave my room, they will be suspicious? - I ask her a little scared.

If someone sees or thinks they see the princess leaving my room so early in the morning and wearing the page clothes from last night, people will be suspicious and start talking. And that can lead to many more than negative consequences.

Rhaenyra: Y/n.- she calls me calmly, pulling the sheets aside from her body and getting up completely naked from the bed. -No one is going to see me leave your room, okay.- she assures me walking towards me at a calm pace.

I am only able to look at her with my mouth slightly open and detail every part of her skin. I can also see the amusement in her lilac eyes at its effect on me and how much she enjoys it.

Rhaenyra: Just trust me, okay? - she asks me running her hands over my chest until they reach the back of my neck.

Y/n: You know that i trust you.- I assure her caressing her waist.

Rhaenyra: Then calm down and kiss me good morning.- she whispers with an amused smile, before pulling my neck and joining our lips in a calm kiss.

We kiss quietly for a few minutes, before we break apart and Rhae puts her clothes back on from last night.

While she gets dressed, I put on clean clothes and my armor like every day. Once we're both ready, Rhae starts walking towards a wall in my room, where there's a drawing and once there she starts playing everywhere.

Y/n: What are you doing? - I ask confused approaching her.

Rhaenyra: My uncle explained to me yesterday that each room in this castle has a door to a secret passage and that these passages are usually hidden behind drawings like these.- she explains and I look at her confused.

Y/n: And if your uncle told you that as a joke? - I ask, looking carefully at the drawing.

Rhaenyra: And how do you think I escaped from the castle yesterday without being seen? - she asks me with a raised eyebrow and a smile full of superiority. -I just have to find the lever that activates it. Bingo.- she says and touches something causing the wall to move a few centimeters.

Y/n: Don't even think about it. - I deny avoiding her accusatory look and full of pride for being right.

Rhaenyra: I told you.- she gloats with a smile full of superiority.

Y/n: Whatever.- I downplay its importance by pushing the door and feeling a current of cold air hit my body. -Are you sure that this is safe? - I ask a little unsure.

Rhaenyra: Yes, no one knows of the existence of these corridors except Daemon, you and me.- she assures me pulling my hand to get me out of the corridor. -Now you leave your room and walk to mine as you do every morning.- she orders me and I shake my head in amusement.

Y/n: Whatever Her Majesty says.- I say with amusement and take two steps back to leave, but her hand on my wrist stops me.

Rhaenyra: I think you're leaving without something important.- she assures me with amusement in her voice. -My kiss.- she says with her lips pouting and I shake my head, leaning in to leave a light kiss on her lips.

Y/n: See you shortly.- I whisper against her soft lips before pulling away and seeing how she disappears behind the wall.

I just look at the wall with a smile, before turning around and finishing putting on the rest of my armor.

Once fully prepared, I leave my room and walk towards the princess's with all the calm in the world. I don't want to walk too fast and raise any kind of suspicion.

So as I walk, my head can't help but go back to the night before and remember everything that happened.

But my moment is interrupted, when a royal guard of the king walks towards me and stops just a meter away.

Rhaenyra's POV

I get to my bedroom as quickly as possible, taking off my page clothes and putting on my nightgown. I hide the used clothes in the hallway and quickly close the door.

I run to my bed, completely undoing it and trying to make it look like I slept in it tonight.

Once I'm happy with the result, I walk to the door to tell the guard to call my service so I can start my morning.

Once my service enters my room, they begin to make the bed and prepare a hot bath for me. As quickly as the bath was ready, I got into the tub and let the water run all over my body.

Before leaving my bedroom, they had taken out the clothes that I would choose today and placed them on my bed.

Once I'm ready for the day, I comb my hair and wait for Y/n to show up at my bedroom door. The weird thing is, it had been a while since we'd parted ways in his room and it was taking a long time. Or at least that's how it seemed to me.

My attention goes from my reflection in the mirror to my bedroom door, when someone knocks softly on the door, waiting for a response from me.

Rhaenyra: I'm dressed Nora.- I say thinking it's one of the girls from my service.

So I continue combing my hair, while I hear the door open and the noise of metal moving. That makes me know that it´s not my servant and I look towards the door quickly.

An immediate smile appears on my face, when I see Y/n walk through the open doors of my room and take a few steps towards me.

Rhaenyra: You've taken a long time.- I comment with a smile, but it disappears quickly when I see his attitude and the way he avoids my gaze.

Y/n: Princess.- He greets looking at the floor, I come out from behind the divider that is between my bed and the rest of the bedroom, and I look at him with a small smile.

Rhaenyra: Come closer.- I ask, making a gesture with my hand.

He hesitates for a moment, before looking at the open door and making sure no one is there. He walks to where I am with a calm step and I can tell that something is wrong by his frown.

Y/n: Princess, I have a message from the queen.- he tells me with obvious concern and my smile disappears again.

Rhaenyra: What message? - I ask a little scared, taking a few steps towards him and from his attitude I know it's not good.

Y/n: She wants to meet you immediately next to the tree of the gods.- he answers me with some insecurity.

Rhaenyra: And what is it about?- I ask confused and worried about her attitude.

He looks at me for a few seconds, then looks at the door and back at me. He quickly walks towards the door, closes it as quietly as possible and runs towards me.

Y/n: On my way here, one of the king's guards stopped me and informed me of the queen's message.- he begins to tell me in a hasty manner. -When I asked him why, he told me that early in the morning the king met with his hand and apparently he brought worrying rumors about you.- he tells me and I open my eyes wide.

Rhaenyra: What rumors? - I ask quickly, getting closer to him and holding his hand to try to reassure me.

Y/n: He hasn't told me.- He shakes his head. -What he has told me is what he has heard, but not in detail and apparently it is something big.- he admits with some fear in his eyes.

Rhaenyra: Calm down.- I whisper raising my hands to his cheeks and caressing them delicately. -I'm sure it's nothing important.- I try to reassure him.

Y/n: It's important.- he assures me with fear.

Rhaenyra: Most likely, she wants to talk about my failed tour to find a husband.- I say, bringing his face closer to mine. -Don't worry, I'll take care of everything.- I assure him standing on tiptoe and leaving a small kiss on his lips.

Y/n: But what if it's not like that? - he asks me with concern. -And if someone discovered you last night with your uncle, or with me? - he asks nervous and scared.

Rhaenyra: No one has discovered nothing, yes?- I assure him with a slight smile. -Everything's fine.-  I assure him calmly, watching him nod in agreement and take a deep breath. -Now help me with my hair, so I can go see the queen as soon as possible.- I ask, leaving one last kiss on his lips.

I break away from him, grabbing his hand and pulling him over to where my mirror is. With some difficulty, he helps me gather my hair into a low braid, and in less than ten minutes we find ourselves walking the halls of the castle.

We walk in silence through the corridors, greeting the people who cross my path and trying to be as friendly as possible.

Once in front of the garden gates, I take one last look at Y/n and take a deep breath before opening the gates.

I go out into the garden, seeing Alicent under the tree of the gods and with a calm step I approach her.

Alicent: What happened last night? - she asks me with a shaky voice, as soon as I'm close to her and I stop immediately.

Rhaenyra: Why do you say so? - I ask feigning innocence and realizing that Y/n was right; someone had saw me last night.

Alicent: My father has made terrible accusations about you.- she answers with a certain anger on her face and I remain silent. - Were you with your uncle? - she asks me, although it seems more like a statement and that's when I realize what she means.

Rhaenyra: I...ah...hadn't seen him for years, we were having fun.- I count without really knowing how to start.

Alicent: Tell me the truth, Rhaenyra.- she says aggressively, walking towards me in a somewhat threatening way and with her face reflecting anger.

Rhaenyra: Your father accuses me of something? - I ask trying to maintain an impassive and confused posture, so as not to discover myself. -About what? From drinking wine? Going out at night? - I ask with some sarcasm.

Alicent: From fucking Daemon in a brothel.- she responds directly with anger and a certain disgust in her voice.

I stay silent, processing what my old best friend just said and thinking about how to get out of this situation. Because even if nothing happened with my uncle last night except an unwanted kiss, I did sleep with someone and no one can know that.

Rhaenyra: But what? What a vile accusation.- I defend myself contracting my face in offense.

Alice: Really? The Targaryens have strange customs.- she spits at me with poison. -And Daemon knows no limits.- she points out and I know that in the latter she is right.

Rhaenyra: Alicent, your highness, sister, you know that I would never...never do it, it's just gossip.- I plead with a slightly broken voice, approaching her with some concern and trying to earn her compassion.

Alicent: My father is not a gossip.- she immediately denies in defense of her father.

Rhaenyra: Well, they will have deceived him.- I answer quickly. -He couldn't see such a thing.- I deny seriously.

Alicent: Why not? - she asks in the form of an attack.

Rhaenyra: Because it didn't happen.- I deny honestly, knowing that nothing happened with my uncle and that it's impossible for someone to see such a thing.

Alicent: They told him they saw you.- she comments quickly and that sets off my alarms.

Rhaenyra: How?- I ask confused. -Who accused me before your father?- I ask her with interest and confusion.

She remains silent, not knowing what to answer for a few seconds. When she tries to answer, she just opens her mouth and stops not knowing how or what to answer me.

Rhaenyra: I am the princess and questioning my virtue is an act of treason.- I remember her surrounding her and stopping in front of her back.

Alicent: I don't know for sure.- she answers turning around and with a softer tone of voice.

Rhaenyra: Hasn't your father told you?- I ask curiously.

Alicent: He has told the king.- she answers through her teeth, using an angry tone again. -I heard them.- she admits and I look at her with treason.

Rhaenyra: So you're accusing me of some slander you've heard.- I comment with pain for her attitude.

Since my father was promised our relationship disappeared, I no longer saw her as my best friend who was almost like a sister. But for her to accuse me like this for something she has heard hurts me.

Alicent: I just want to help you Rhaenyra.- she defends herself by taking a couple of steps towards me.

Rhaenyra: Okay.- I admit deciding to be partially honest. -We drank in a tavern, in several taverns. It was getting late and I wanted to go back, but Daemon wanted to continue and being my escort I had no choice. - I start telling her trying to sound honest and not see the lie.

Alicent: Continue... in a brothel? - she asks in a broken way and looking at me with pain.

Rhaenyra: We saw a play... and I was just watching. I didn't do anything.- I defend myself immediately seeing how she turns her back on me. -But Daemon drank too much and abandoned me for some whore.- I tell her trying to sound convincing. -I should have imagined it.- I whisper with false pain.

Alicent: So you didn´t...?- she leaves the question in the air without wanting to finish it.

Rhaenyra: Do I really have to deny it? - I ask her a little offended seeing how she shows me her face again. -Daemon has never touched me.- I say with all the sincerity in the world. - I swear to you, Alicecent. In the memory of my mother.- I beg hr to believe me, because my uncle has not touched me and I do not want anyone to think otherwise.

Alicent: It was foolish of you to risk that they could question your virtue.- she assures me, letting go of my hands. -The king has endeavored to find you a consort. Me too.- she comments seriously. -If that gentleman believed that you have been... sullied, he would spoil everything.- she reproached me angrily.

Rhaenyra: I know, Your Highness.- I agree with her. -I'm sorry.- I apologize immediately.

We remain silent for a few more moments, before ending the conversation and each one embarking on a different path.

I go back through the door through which I had gone out into the garden, meeting a nervous and restless Y/n on the other side of the door.

Y/n: What did he tell you? - he asks me in an accelerated way as soon as he realizes my presence

Rhaenyra: Nothing that I couldn't solve.- I try to reassure him.

Y/n: But what did she wanted to talk to you about? - he still asks with some concern, approaching me and stopping a few centimeters from me.

Rhaenyra: She wanted to talk about ..- I start but I'm interrupted by my previous personal guard.

Ser Criston: Princess, the king needs your presence in his chambers.- He speaks reaching out to us and causing Y/n to distance himself from me.

Rhaenyra: Now?- I ask a little exasperated by everything that is happening this morning.

Ser Criston nods and waits for us to move. I look at my personal guard and nod to let him know that we are going to get moving.

He nods me very subtly and the three of us head towards my father's bedroom.

After the conversation I've had with Alicent, I know that most likely he's going to ask me the same questions and the conversation won't be as "calm" as it has been with the queen.

Because although Alicent was clearly angry and has shown it in more than one moment, I can assure you that she has ended up believing me.

So if she has believed me, talking about it with my father will be noisier and unlike with Alicent it will be easier.

I have always been my father's blind spot and he has always spoiled me. So I don't think the conversation ends badly. I just hope we're done soon and I can stop running from one side of the castle to the other because someone wants to talk to me.

When we reach the doors of my parents' room, the guards who guard their doors open them and let me into the bedroom.

I take one last look at Y/n, before taking five steps inside and hearing the doors close behind me.

I look at the place, seeing the replica of the old Valyria under construction and next to it a dagger inside a burning brazier. I move closer to the brazier, watching the dagger and the way the fire caresses the edge.

I reach my hand towards the handle of the dagger, but before my fingers touch the object a voice sounds in the place and they startle me.

Viserys: That dagger belonged to Aegon the conqueror.- he informed me coming out of the shadows. -And before him to Aenar, and before Aenar... it's hard to know.- he says walking towards where I am.

Rhaenyra: Wow.- I murmured surprised.

Viserys: Before Aegon's death, the last Valyrian pyromancers hid their song in steel.- he tells taking the knife out of the fire, revealing a writing on the edge and offers me the dagger in stealth.

Rhaenyra: "From my blood the prince who was promised will be born and his will be the song of Ice and Fire."- I read what it says on the red-hot knife and I look at my father.

Viserys: The responsibility... that I have bequeathed to you, and what I have transmitted to you matter more than the throne, than the king and much more than you, and your desires.- he says with venom and reproach in the last part. -Jaehaerys would have disinherited you.- he assures me, keeping the dagger.

Rhaenyra: For lying? - I ask confused and a little curious about what he has to tell me. -You still haven't asked me what really happened.- I defend myself when my father starts to walk away.

Viserys: The truth is not what matters, but appearances.- he reproached me with some annoyance. -You have exposed yourself with your actions and we will both suffer the consequences.- he informed me approaching me.

Rhaenyra: If I had been born a boy, I could sleep with whoever I wanted.- I reproach him with a bit of anger. -Having a dozen bastards and no one in court would be unmoved.- I point out the reality of this whole situation.

Viserys: Right. But you were born a woman.- he reproaches me through his teeth.

Rhaenyra: That's why you will strip me of my titles and name Aegon as your heir.- I reproach him, knowing that it is what many in court and especially in his closest circle want.

Viserys: I should! - he yells at me angrily. -But I must keep the kingdom united, not show more discord.- he makes it clear. -There will be no more courtships, you will marry Ser Leanor Velaryon and you are going to do them without any protest.- He considers the conversation closed and I look at him scared.

Rhaenyra: The son of the sea serpent? - I ask with venom. -Now I am the solution to your political problems.- I reproach him through my teeth.

Viserys: You are my political problem! - he exclaims even more annoyed and then surrounds me. -Your marriage to Ser Leanor Velaryon will unite the two most powerful houses in the kingdom. Joining the strength of our dragons to their fleets, no one will dare to challenge us.- he explains from my back. -The house of the Dragon will remain united for another generation.- he assures causing me to turn to see him.

Rhaenyra: I'm not going to marry Ser Leanor Velaryon.- I seriously deny.

I'm not going to marry anyone other than Y/n Strong, much less after what happened last night. I will not accept being my father's bargaining chip and pay for what he did to reject Laena Velaryon a few years ago.

Viserys: You will marry whoever I tell you to and this discussion ends here.- he orders angrily.

Rhaenyra: No.- I deny, staring at him for sure, I'm not going to give in.

Viserys: Rhaenyra.- he growls annoyed. -You will do what you are told, because until now you have had all the options in the world and you have wasted them. You have not been able to choose, so I have already chosen for you and you will do what you are told.- he says emphatically.

Rhaenyra: You promised that I would choose and I have done it.- I throw into his face with fury.

Viserys: No, you haven't.- He denies annoyed. -We prepared a tour of several moons so that you could choose and not only did you not choose a suitor, but you ended the tour prematurely.- he reminds me with venom.

Rhaenyra: But that's not true.- I deny in my defense.

Viserys: What part of everything I've said isn't true?- he asks me sarcastically. -That you ended the tour early, that you came back without choosing a consort or the headaches that you are causing me? - he asks, getting more and more angry.

Rhaenyra: The one that i haven't chosen a consort.- I answer honestly. -Yes, I've chosen it, but you haven't given me time to tell you and you're already marrying me to a Velaryon to fix what you messed up by refusing Laena's hand!-  I exclaimed angrily at him.

Viserys: I don't care. You will marry Leanor Velaryon and that is my last word.- he says, ending the conversation.

Rhaenyra: If you make me marry Leanor, I plan to get on Syrax and you will never see me again.- I assure him with all the honesty in the world.

Viserys: Don't threaten me, because I'll make them lock you in your bedroom until we have to go to Driftmark and until your wedding day.- He threatens me, pointing his finger at me.

Rhaenyra: It's not a threat, father, I'm being honest and I plan to comply with it.- I assure you. -And even if you lock me in my room, I plan to escape somehow and I assure you that you will not see me again.- I insist with sincerity and security.

Because locking myself in my room won't prevent me from leaving, since now I know the secret passages and escaping will be easy.

Viserys: You're not going to talk to me like that, young lady.- He threatens me with his finger.

Rhaenyra: It's not a threat, it's a choice.- I clarified with a calmer tone. -I'm giving you the choice between allowing me to marry whoever I want, or forcing myself to marry Laenor Velaryon and never seen me again.- I explained the options, seeing his pensive face.

He stays silent for a few minutes, processing the information I've given him and deciding what to do.

I just hope you take my ultimatum seriously, because I'm completely serious and as much as it hurts, I won't last to run away.

Viserys: Who? - he asks tiredly after a while in silence.

Rhaenyra: Who what?- I ask confused.

Viserys: Who is the consort you have chosen?- he asks letting out an exhausted sigh.

Rhaenyra: Lord Y/n Strong.- I respond with a certain amount of nervousness, because of how his reaction will be and what he will say.

Viserys: Your personal guard? - he asks, opening his eyes in surprise.

Rhaenyra: Yes.- I answer with a nod.

Viserys: Why him? - he asks with obvious fatigue from the whole situation and the conversation we are having.

Rhaenyra: Because he's kind, he cares about me and not just because it's his job, he's interested in what I like, he treats me like any other person and not like the heir to the throne, because he's intelligent and among other things because he likes me. He makes me feel loved, cared for and protected when he is around.- I enumerate as honestly as possible, seeing how the muscles in my father's face relax and take on a softer gesture.

Viserys: I guess a promise is a promise and I have to keep it.- he sighs, scratching his forehead. -I suppose that not having sent a scroll to the Velaryons yet is something positive.- he comments and I look at him with a shy smile.

Rhaenyra: Does that mean I won't have to marry Leanor Velaryon and I will marry Y/n Strong? - I ask trying to stay calm.

Viserys: Yes.- he nods causing me to let out an excited cry.

Rhaenyra: Thank you, thank you, thank you.- I thanked running towards my father and hugging him carefully.

Viserys: You don't have to thank me for anything.- he whispers against the top of my head, hugging me back. -But the wedding will take place as soon as possible and in my own way.- he assures me and I nod effusively.

Rhaenyra: As long as I marry Y/n I don't care about the form or the date.- I admit with a huge smile. -But I have a doubt.- I comment separating myself from him and making a serious gesture.

Viserys: What is your question, daughter? - he asks me a little more relaxed than when we started the conversation.

Rhaenyra: What do you plan to do with the vulture that perches on your throne? - I ask, referring to his hand and father of his wife.

Viserys: What vulture? - he asks confused.

Rhaenyra: Your hand.- I answer caressing one of the buildings on his old Valyria model.

Viserys: Otto Hightower has served two kings with loyalty and fidelity. - He defends him immediately.

Rhaenyra: He wants you to name Aegon as heir, and he's willing to do anything to get it. Even to spy on me to get me out of the way.- I assure him and i don't have to see anything other than how fast he has come out with rumors about me. -You tell me about the vision of the Conqueror and the need to strengthen and unite the entire kingdom. But how will you achieve your goal if your hand only watches over its interest? - I ask him with sincere concern.

Viserys: Any lord or lady who asks for an audience with me, my current and previous councils, all look out for their interest. It is something inevitable- he tells me without giving much importance to being used.

Rhaenyra: I disagree.- I shake my head. - I will do my duty and marry Lord Y/n. But fulfill yours as king.- I say to end the conversation.

After one last look at my father, I walk towards the doors of his bedroom and open them to leave his room.

I just hope he listens to me and gets rid of Otto Hightower, because all he wants is to come to power somehow no matter what the price.

And if I've learned anything in this life, it's that a person as ambitious as he is dangerous.

It is always said that you have to keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. But in this case, the enemy is Otto Hightower and it is best to have him as far away as possible, and without any kind of power or influence in the castle.

[howyouloveyourdragon]

Only Fair

Prologue Part I

so only the prologue relating to my ao3 version of Only Fair will be posted on tumblr (both parts) as far as I can decide right now but i hope if you do decide to keep reading on ao3 that you enjoy! of course the original rhaenyra x reader only fair will also be receiving updates but the two will diverge heavily in plot and only fair ao3 will likely be updated more frequently thank you for reading ♡

pairing: rhaenyra targaryen x fem!half-sister!oc alternate universe: A/B/O, canon divergent pronouns: she/her Summary: Rhaenyra Targaryen has never been fond of the siblings forced upon her but she was willing to accept them until they were made of her former best friend. At two and twenty, having birthed her first child, she made a choice. She was going to treat them with the respect of a peer and young royalty but nothing else. They may be her father's spawn but they are not her siblings. But after years pass and her husband has fallen, she finds that not all of them are as besmirching as she had imagined. Perhaps one in particular is even quite favourable. Viserra. A sweet girl, she remembers that. Viserra... Viserra has always been kind, gentle and fierce. She had always admired her siblings and their dragons more than her books, and imagined how one day she might soar as high as Aegon does upon Sunfyre. Her brother shares everything but very rarely does he allow her flight. Though perhaps she has made an error, she does not need dreams and unfulfilling dreams, she needs to seize her own fate and she must quickly... warnings: none in this chapter that i know of other than perhaps a short discussion on child neglect dividers: saradika

Rhaenyra can still remember the day that her once-friend’s screams echoed around the Keep for not one but two twin girls in early morn. She can still remember mounting Syrax at the sounds of her cries and squeezing her eyes shut in hopes to ignore it–the same way she ignored the announcement of Alicent’s second and first pregnancy. She did not return for six weeks in favour of Dragonstone and when she returned? She avoided every leering stare and finally agreed to begin touring for a suitor. One she knew she would not take…Until she did. Viserra in contrast–which the court did often–was a sweet slip of a thing in her youth and her eldest sister did not intend to entertain her befuddled ramblings. Of course she had been, an arm always looped in her elder brother’s and her mother combing through the rough coarse curls of child's play. A coddled child and smothered in warm embraces throughout her youth. Glowing from praise as The Golden Princess. Except for perhaps the King’s. His stare was as blank as the toys she adored just as much as her father’s attention. It was the rare gem she craved, exploring the depth of a cave and more just to catch that glistening sparkle. She didn’t mind the cool disposition or forgotten namesdays, she had something better. She had her siblings and nephews at her side and the promise of a kind suitor (she particularly favoured the Tully boy who had brought her a fish the size of her arm the year prior.) And she had held onto that promise until she was ten and three namesdays passed. And instead of returning Viserra’s quizzical stares, Rhaenyra avoided her as she avoided all her siblings once two more boys were born…  

“No.” “Oh please!” Young Jacaerys whines, pounding his fist on the desk. Viserra jumps and flashes her sights to him, brows raised and warning. She is sitting within a violet armchair in the auburn library, a thick book between her hands. Instantly, the boy simmers and tucks his palms into each other and his head tilts down. “Sorry.” He mutters this time and her lips tilt at the success. Then she sighs. “High Valyrian is not something that you can place half your will into, it is a language carefully threaded and sewn like the seams of a dress. It must be perfected.” Jacaerys wrinkles his nose yet she takes no notice. “But I want to join in!” He argues, hands curling into the skirt of his aunt’s rust dress and kneeling down in front of her. It was more reminiscent of a rotting orange than that of a dress but now was not the time to insult her. She tuts. He pouts his lips and tilts his head to the side this time. “You and Aegon are always leaving me out! Oh please, oh please!” He begs like a puppy grovelling for fresh scraps. Her eyes scan over him, regret already stirring her insides. His eyes are wide and pleading. “Please?” He asks, more gentle this time. At that she hesitates. Jacaerys was a somewhat sweet boy when he wanted to be and he always brought her a new book when it entered the realms of the library, always begged for her to read it to him. Perhaps it was a puppy crush or perhaps it was simply a want for approval. That she had also noticed and if she could stop him following her brother around like a lost lamb she would. But alas he was rather convincing. So her lips pressed firmly together and she scans over his much shorter figure and then sighs. “Fine.” She relents, wincing at his grin of victory. You’d have thought he had just succeeded a boar with his bare hands. He grins impishly at her, the light of his excitement almost blinding. She was already dreading her decision. “What have the maesters taught you already?” He blinks at her and another sigh parts her lips. “Oh the Seven help me on my quest.” She murmurs quietly, snickering when his fist prods her. “Meet me on every second day and I shall try.” He nods quickly and wraps suffocating arms around her. “Kar-Karo” Jacaerys struggles, cheeks tinging pink.”Karamvose?” He tilts his head up at her and she tries to fend off her own amusement. “Kirimvose.” She corrects. “Kirimvose.” He repeats with a grin. And then she leaves. 

Her lilac eyes slowly raise in guilt, fingers shifting and tearing at the beds of her nails. A nervous girl, since she had been brought into the life of court, and a trait she was often chastised for by her Septas and grandsire. Septa Morring’s coal sights narrow and her lips thin. She carefully stiffens her posture and clenches her jaw as she awaits an answer. Panic swells in the quick pace of her breath. Viserra draws her lower lip between her teeth and bites down before she can stutter a half-hearted response. She swallows but the act is difficult under the control of her rampant thoughts. Finally she releases her lip and takes in a breath but before she can humiliate herself as much as she’s dreading, her face snaps to the side, a small voice is already speaking. “One violet, one green were both to be seen. The first female alpha since Visenya herself.” The Septa sighs but waves her hand begrudgingly and allows Viserra to seat herself again. She does so quickly. “Very good Helaena but it ‘twas not your answer to recall. You may all gather your things but do not take such haste again, young princess.” The Septa casts an impenetrable stare at young Helaena. Finally Viserra breathes and nudges her sister, muttering a “thank you” before swiftly grasping her hand and tugging her alongside their embroidery to the thick door opening. 

They both ignore as the Septa prays after the session, giggling into one another’s ear. The long winding hallways are calmer as always at this time but as Viserra catches sight of her mother and Ser Criston Cole, she beams. Viserra may not have been her mother’s favourite but she favoured her mother over anyone else in the room. It is in an instant that she drags Helaena toward them, Helaena’s smaller legs struggling more than Viserra’s but unheard over the excitement. Helaena sighs with her lips tilting. Viserra releases her sister–alongside her embroidery which skitters across the long hall–and launches forward at the knight who stumbles back. Her mother’s disapproving sigh is present as ever but they both know that she is smiling. It is specifically why Viserra did not launch herself at her mother instead. Ser Cole stiffens as always, even after all this time, and gently pats her hair down. He worries for many reasons but at the head of all of them, he worries about the pain his armour must bring her. “Your Septa again?” He asks carefully with narrowed eyes. She blinks her own soft ones up at him and it is enough to make him grimace. He nods. “I will take care of it, princess.” He has to pry her hands off him but Alicent quickly snatches them up to hold and lace her fingers with Viserra’s own. Replacing the rejection with comfort as she had done so often before. Viserra watches as his figure leaves, he is as swift as the dust of parchment and as protective as the steel he bears. “You mustn’t run off such as this.” Alicent chastises, leaning down to land warm palms on her child’s shoulders. “It is not the behaviour of a princess. Despite the tone, her voice is soft. It is what Viserra favours most about her mother. Soil eyes pierce lilac and Viserra slowly whines. Then she pouts. “My fingers hurt, needlepoint is horrible! It hurts and-and only Helaena ever likes the sigils I make! The Septas are mean and Aeggy doesn’t even hang them up in his chambers anymore, he puts them in a drawer.” Alicent sighs, perhaps the coddling has gifted upon them some petulance. “We are not owed our appreciation, young darling. You must recall that.” 

“But uncle Daemon said–!” “I do not care what your beloved heathen said, I am your mother!” The Queen snaps, gone is the doting parent. Viserra blinks in shock before leaning back and softening her previously wrinkled nose. Alicent sighs, pinching the bridge of her own. She opens her eyes and smiles tightly. That familiar shame wraps her in a scratchy blanket. Alicent thins her lips. “Now, have you seen your brothers? They should have been back from their studies by now for luncheon.” Viserra shakes her head. She pauses for a moment then her brows pinch. “Have you seen your nephews?” The words are tentative this time, almost frightened for the answer. Her fingers dig into Viserra’s gown. Again Viserra shakes her head. It’s quick that a needle sharp lump thickens in the Queen’s throat. “Right…” She murmurs, her thoughts skip over her brain, desperate to be the one she voices. THe Queen looks to Helaena firmly. “Go and take your sister into your chambers, teach her your embroidery.” While the elder grimaces, Helaena smiles. She receives a dark look and huffs, folding her arms. She nods, suddenly remembering why she stopped asking where her fish went. Her palm is grasped with trepidation but still Helaena’s gentle fingers tug at her. “The small and the elder refuse to fly.” The younger princess murmurs with that same dreamy expression that her sister loves so dearly. 

“Sweet Laena,” Rhaenyra smiles warm as a winter fire at her supposed sister-in-law. The relationship between them had always been odd but never in a bad way. Things tend to tense within the blur of two alpha claims…and having to hide that claim. Laena’s dark eyes flitter up at her from beneath coal lashes. She smirks. “Good sister,” Laena returns in a quick beam. “I am glad to see you, I apologise for it being so long since the last of our…meetings. I have missed you.” Rhaenyra’s violet eyes drift to cast over the familiar broach encircling snowy coils. A twitch signals her lips. Her fingers caress it. “So it has but we are both with child, it is to be expected. I might say that Pentos is rather beautiful at such an hour,” The lilt of her voice lands to blanket atop them. Discretion is not her priority, Laena's softening figure and closing eyes are. A chuckle drips between the heir’s brash lips. “Is Vhagar doing well here?” She asks, hand moving to cup the other woman’s swollen stomach. Laena smiles and flutters her eyes open, mischief lacing them. “As much as a dragon can. She has grown restless at her lack of flight, I must confess.” “Ah,” Rhaenyra nods. “Syrax is the same while I am with child. You would think I had passed onto the next world rather than being under that condition. I am rather relieved that she was gentle when she met Luke. I was almost fearful she would blame him for my predicament.” A chuckle passes between them. “They are fierce creatures, not of our hand nor of our whims.” “Hm,” Rhaenyra wrinkles her nose. “I believe so, as does my father.” Laena bristles slightly but not for long. She looks down at her feet. “Daemon has missed you.” She comments, nerves weaselling through her teeth. A bitter taste swells on both their tongues. “Hm,” Rhaenyra nods, irritation spurring. “Well, he can only blame himself.” Laena sighs involuntarily. “You know his words do not connect with his mind,” She argues in vain. Rhaenyra grimaces. “And you know that he is a childish man grown and capable of handling his own consequences.” Rhaenyra thins her lips. “Nevermind this talk, how are little Baela and Rhaena?” “They want a brother,” The younger one smiled tightly. “Though they wish they do not have to see me in this state.” “It shall pass,” Rhaenyra assures, squeezing her hand. “I promise this to you. It will pass and you shall bring your babes onto Driftmark soil, delight in the pleasures of Dragonstone and wherever else you might wish.” 

“Daemon is not quite acquitted by such thoughts.” “Then he needn’t come.” Rhaenyra snips, a bitterness lying upon her tongue. “He is my husband.” Laena announces in frustration. Rhaenyra pauses and lets a silence pass before she nods. “Yes…I apologise for my misgivings.” Her tone is sharp but her eyes are kind. Gentle. Conflict was not new in their relationship. Fierce dragons rarely settle for compromising thoughts. Laena’s eyes track her lover’s form. She could not pretend that the childlike behaviour Rhaenyra complained over resided in her own blood. It could be rather amusing. Rhaenyra grimaces and roams her own bump, rubbing it gently. Rhaenyra takes a step forward and cups her omega’s face, rolling her thumb over her cheek. “We will see one another again.” Laena confirms with a sigh. “After the babe has come.” A frown settles across Rhaenyra’s brow. She scoffs. “You do not expect me to leave you in this state, surely–” Laena holds up a palm. “We do not need further rumours.” Rhaenyra’s jaw drops. “We are Valyrians, Targaryens, we have conquered both the sky and land. What are rumours worth if they cannot harm us.” Laena’s eyes narrow on her sternly. “We both know that they will tarnish your claim. They already suspect that your boys are not Laenor’s, we do not need them to suspect they one in your womb is of Daemon’s seed.” “Daemon is not even here–” “But he will be. Leave.” Rhaenyra sighs at the command. “I do not wish to cause you stress.” She utters dejectedly. At the first calm words leaving her lips, Laena reaches to grasp both her princess’ hands and squeeze them. “Then leave us. Return home, return to the Red Keep and I will await your letters.” Her lilting voice summons both restraint and power. Rhaenyra had always been the more impulsive of them both. Fire mingles her veins stronger than Laena’s of sea salt. Rhaenyra’s violet eyes flash down at newly joined hands and she nods slowly. Again her eyes flicker up at Laena’s. She doesn’t have to apologise because the words ring in both of their ears. Both of their hearts swell in anxiety and warmth. Both of their stomachs twist at the thought of her leaving. 

But it must be done.

It isn’t with especially good solace the next night that Viserra’s fingers thread through Aemond’s hair, securing a braid at the back as he quietly seethes. “I will have a dragon.” He grunts to which her hands still. “I know.” She coos gently, it is no secret that her brother is not fond of their nephews nor their teasing. Or Aegon’s for that matter. “Have…” She hesitates, tucking her lower lip between pearl teeth. Aemond’s eyes flit up at her, his head resting in her lap as she arranges the braids to entwine with each other. “Have what?” He prompts. “Have you considered claiming one?” Silence swarms and suddenly she feels the need to rectify herself. “Not yet of course but…well father claimed Balerion after he presented.” Nerves tighten her muscles and anxiety creeps up her throat in the form of acid. At the mention of their father, the tension grows thick and regret seeps into her gut. “Perhaps...” He murmurs in thought, eyes slowly tracking to the ceiling. “Might you as well? Claim a dragon?” “He was ten and six, that is a mere three years from I, and Aegon claimed Sunfyre just one summer ago.” Viserra continues, fingers stalling in his hair. Aemond grimaces. “That is too long! You do not understand that they tease me more than they do you.” He pouts, his brows furrowing as he does so. “Then they shall regret it once we have grown.” She dismisses with the ease of denying a second cup. “And all shall envy you instead.” His lip twitches upward but he stalls. “Why did his hatch?” He then asks quietly. Viserra’s brows slowly knit together. “Who?” “Daeron’s.” Silence hangs with the weight of a curtain. “Do our ancestors think us so unworthy that they would gift him such genes but not us too? What makes him different?” Hesitation covered her like a cup to a spider. She squirms slightly which must have clued Aemond further for he did not vent further. He merely lets out a huff. 

She taps his cheek and shimmies so that he has to lift his back. He frowns as his eyes flicker to hers, twisting himself to face her. She lands each hand on his cheeks and looked into his eyes. “You are fierce.” She begins, attracting a furrowed brow. “You are valiant. I can feel it in our blood. You have the essence of every great Targaryen and someday you shall be celebrated as such.” Heat swells in her brother’s cheeks, resembling the raucous flames of Caraxes himself and he grins up at her. “I shall present and prove myself to you and to–” He vows which she is quick to protest, jutting a pointed finger to his chest. “No. You shall prove nothing to anyone, it will only lead to your downfall.” She knows he is not listening when he bites his lip, the give-away to when he is lying despite not utterances. An owl sounds from behind them out the window and they both glance into the blackened sky while it twinkles like a blanket strewn with a thousand diamond pieces. A bird soars through the darkness. “That shall be us one day.” Aemond states boldly. “And we shall be greater than any other dragonlord, to that I swear you.” A smile warms across Viserra’s face. “I can already see it.” She murmurs softly, arm looping with his. “You shall be the greatest alpha anyone has ever seen. There shall never be a tourney that you cannot conquer as your own. No battle that you cannot bring to your own mercy.” 

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Rhaenyra x reader with incest if it hasn’t already been crossed out?

Baby teeth (Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Cousins. You hate them or you love them. And Rhaenyra knows exactly how she feels about you.

Warnings: Incest. One use of Daddy.

Requested: Yes! The first one I fill, too. Here you go! I hope you enjoy this, since it’s my first time writing Rhaenyra.

There is something dangerous about the boredom of young maidens. That’s what Septa Marlow used to say. Rhaenyra never understood it properly. Not until now.

As you entered the Hall, hot in Daemon’s heels and with an expression of absolute contempt, she wondered what could possibly be your reason for coming. It was well known that you two weren’t friends. Viserys and Daemon made actual efforts to keep you apart, after a particularly nasty episode during your shared childhood.

Even at four years old, you were a nasty little thing. All the worst parts of Daemon and Rhea Royce, rolled into one. Rhaenyra had taken your favorite doll, arguing that she was a Princess and so deserved to have it. You had dug your little baby teeth into her calf so hard, she still wore the evidence of your wrath.

Back then, Rhaenyra had wailed for hours, as Viserys rubbed her back. Daemon had tried to get you to apologize, and you had just stuck out your little chin defiantly and refused to budge.

“It was mine.” You had said. Daemon, new to parenthood and not sure about how to handle you, had passed you to his wife. They had argued for hours, screaming for the whole Red Keep to hear. Daemon said your mother hadn’t raised you right. Rhea had screamed back that you had inherited his nasty nature.

If she had to choose a memory to define your personality, she would pick that afternoon. Demon child that you were, you had sat outside their room, playing with your doll. Rhaenyra never again forgot your triumphant smile.

About to become a married woman in less than two days, Rhaenyra finally understood what Septa Marlow meant about boredom of young girls. It was not achieved in an exemplary show of self reflection, no. Exempt as she was now from those silly lessons, Rhaenyra barely gave it more thought than she gave to her childhood bedtime stories.

It was from looking at you, that it started to make sense. Not because you were purity, respect, and shy subservience all incarnate, but because you weren’t. When Viserys had felt like a particularly invested parent, he used to compare you to her.

“Look at your cousin.” He would say. “Daemon tells me she is great at the harp. And she attends to the Sept daily.”

It had fueled her to be better. Because she hated you. She despised you. You had bitten her, like some sort of feral cat. You were not a Princess, but a mere Lady, yet seemed to show her in every area that you dedicated yourself to, according to Viserys.

Either Daemon had lied to him, or he had lied to her. Because did a proper lady show up to a wedding in a black and bronze dress cut in the dornish fashion? No, she did not. Yet as you walked towards the high table behind your father, Rhaenyra could not help but admire you. There was a confusing beauty in your exposed arms and collarbones, in the barest hint of a thigh that could be seen from the side when your gown moved.

It was a surprise to no one that Daemon crashed the wedding. After all, it was in his style to do so. No one bated an eyelash at it. Instead, all eyes were on you. Your gown was a statement if Rhaenyra ever saw one. House Royce stood proud today, not House Targaryen.

She wondered what Daemon thought about it. Not only were you wearing a risqué gown, but you were making a declaration. You were the daughter of Rhea Royce, and you wouldn’t be silenced. A brave stand, especially if the rumors were to be true.

Rhaenyra had heard about it, of course. Your mother’s passing and the alleged hand Daemon had had in it. You looked to be the only one looking for justice for Rhea Royce. Rhaenyra understood the feeling well. Too often, Targaryen men disregarded women in favor of advancing their ambitions.

Hadn’t Daemon done that to her in a ploy to get her off the race for the Iron Throne? Left her there, standing in the middle of a brothel, possibly to face her ruin? She betted he would have not been so happy, so easily pulled away, if it were you in that brothel. He would have burned it down and salted the earth to protect his little dragon.

You were oblivious to it, of course. But the only time that Daemon had been in agreement with Otto Hightower had been when Viserys shyly suggesting taking you as a wife. The row had been explosive, or so she had been told. One arguing that he was King and could do as he wished, Otto screaming it was giving Daemon too much power, and Daemon screaming that he was a perverted old man.

He had not seemed to care about the age difference so much in regard to her, though. Hypocrite. Yet love had a way, it appeared, of bending one’s moral compasses. Or making one grow one, in the case of Daemon.

She envied you for that, too. While Viserys had been willing to pawn her off to an old man or a child, Daemon had been insistent on finding you an age appropriate match. It was why you were still unmarried, despite being only two years younger than her.

As her father pulled a chair for you and Daemon to sit, Alicent made her own entrance, wearing a green gown. The same color Oldtown lit up in when Hightowers went to war.

“It seems she has outdone me.” You pouted, towards no one in particular. Your voice was different from what Rhaenyra remembered. Deeper and accented. You spoke in the clipped tones those in the Vale had, more proper for calling horses than noble speech. It reminded her of her mother.

“It’s my wedding, cousin.” Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes at you. Why did you have to show off all the time? You came in here, looking more like a Royce than a Targaryen and had to flaunt it in everyone's faces. “Neither of you are supposed to outdone me.”

“Girls, girls.” Her father placated, placing a hand on her arm. Rhaenyra glared. You glared at her, right back. “You both look gorgeous tonight. No need to fight.”

“Ah, right. How could I possibly forget?” You whispered, right back. “It’s all about Princess Rhaenyra tonight. And every other night. With my father, with yours…” You trailed off, bitterly. Daemon smiled at Viserys, tense. No one wanted the reminder of what had happened between Rhaenyra and him.

The Velaryons, meanwhile, look between the attendants with polite masks. But Rhaenyra can tell Rhaenys is just dying to say something. She is not very fond of her and your comment has given her the ammunition she needed.

Alicent tries to interject, perhaps redirect the conversation, but Rhaenyra is not listening. All she can see are your defiant eyes.

If you wanted to play, it was fine by her. Rhenyra was more than willing to go a few rounds. Her ego was bruised enough that she doubted anything you could say would actually hurt her. But it didn’t mean she had to tolerate your disrespect laying down.

“Dearest cousin, I notice you growing a bit thick on the hips. Tell me, have you traded the dragon for the horse?”

Lyonel Strong nearly spits out his wine. You give him a sweet smile and then say something that freezes both Rhaenyra and Alicent.

“Oh, not so often as you do. I heard you went riding with your white cloak. Where is he? I thought he might appreciate my dress tonight.”

Rhaenyra sees red. It’s the only explanation because she is dreadfully rude. She throws you the half of a pomegranate, which you gracefully catch.

Viserys laughs awkwardly.

“I think we should begin the feast. The Lady Targaryen is looking famished.”

“Of course.” Daemon immediately caught on, following his brother’s lie. Rhaenyra wanted to slap him. Was it him, who had slipped that piece of gossip to you? “How considerate of my niece for noticing.”

“She has grown into a fine flower. Although not without thorns.” Viserys whispers to Daemon, much to Rhaenyra’s disgust. It’s evident that he is talking about you. Was it only the distance from court, what kept you from taking Alicent’s place? Would her father have married you if Daemon had offered you?

After all, you have all his worst qualities. After nearly tangling in the sheets of the man, Rhaenyra is not afraid to admit it.

As if taunting her, you flash her a feral little grin. Pearly teeth on full display, you bite savagely into the pomegranate. Rhaenyra’s calf throbs in sympathy.

Her eyes are fixated only on you. She ignores Laenor’s attempt at making conversation. There is a drop of red juice gathering on your lower lip. There is a sudden urge to rub her thumb over it. Of pinching the appendix with her teeth and biting until she draws blood, all rabid hound.

Cousins. You hate them, or you love them, there is no middle point. The drop slips lower, towards your chin. You have the manners of a peasant, smearing the juices all over your face. Messy girl.

“Is there something on my face?” You ask a very flustered Corlys Velaryon, licking your lips. Daemon tuts in disapproval, but does nothing. Rhaenys looks on the verge of slapping you, but most men in the hall seem to enjoy the display. Even righteous Criston Cole looks your way for a second.

A droplet of juice travels down, down, down, between your collarbones and towards the valley of your tits. She thinks of biting down the soft hollow of your throat and not letting go until you were sweet. “Cousin, please.” Pretty eyes filled with tears, mouth agape. She can see it so clearly… Blood on your throat, all over that pretty little dornish number… Rhaenyra blinks. A trick of the light, surely. For a second, it looked like you actually were covered in blood.

“Daughter.” Daemon says, and tenderly cleans your lips with a napkin. His hands linger a little too long on your throat. Rhaenyra doesn’t know whether he wants to strangle you or is genuinely trying to clean you up and preventing yourself from making a spectacle. She understands both urges. “Please. Why don’t you go greet your other cousins?”

You give him a sultry look, from beneath your lashes. Another pout.

“Oh, Daddy…” You purr, and it’s clearly not directed at him, but to the man your eyes are fixated on. Corlys Velaryon, yet again shifting uncomfortably on his seat. Daemon clenches his fist. Her father clears her throat and gives Rhaenyra a pointed look. Get her out here, his eyes seem to say. Before Daemon punches your future father-in-law and ruins your wedding. “You are no fun.”

“Cousin.” Rhaenyra says, all high and airy. In truth, she too wants these men to stop looking at you. You are hers. Disrespectful fools, can’t they see you already claimed her? “Care for a dance?”

“Of course, Princess. Thought you never ask.” And you get up, insolent little brat that you are, and take her hand. Was it all a ploy? Were you flirting with Corlys Velaryon only to get her alone?

Insufferable brat, that you are. Of course you were.

She wonders, sometimes, what is it, that you want. You don’t care for her. You are as much of a spoiled princess as she is, yet you refuse to see it. Embracing the Royce side of your heritage favored your delusions of normalcy. Learning to hawk and hunt, riding as well as any man would. You have a dragon, of course, but it wears the Royce’s sigil proudly on its neck, and not one of the Targaryen collars.

What is it that you want? Rebel against Daemon? You resent him, surely. For leaving when you were a mere girl, and showing up to the Vale when you are a woman grown, expecting you to bend to his will. Rhaenyra can understand that. She, too, has been babied by Targaryen men. Not even Daemon, despite his lust, sees her as a woman.

It must make for an interesting dynamic. You are headstrong. So it’s Daemon. In your eyes, he abandoned you and your mother to go fight his little war and then tried to get his marriage annulled, making you a bastard, all in a ploy to bed his niece and take the throne. Said niece is only two years your senior and childhood nemesis.

She has heard you are soon to be married, but not yet to whom. Her father leans towards marrying you to Harwin Strong, son of his Hand. A way to keep Daemon under control. The match is slightly more age appropriate. They had yet to decide the problems of inheritance, though.

Rhaenyra doubts Harwin will want you, a dark, bad behaved thing who is always on edge. She has caught him looking at her more than a few times, and you are nothing alike. Oil and water. Well, more like silver and bronze.

As you walk together towards the makeshift dance floor, hand in hand, the crowd parts for you. Rhaenyra lifts her head, proudly. The music that is playing is fit for a couple’s dance, no doubt playing in hopes of luring her and Laenor to dance.

It will not be happening today, it seems. Because Rhaenyra places you in the line along with the women, taking her place among the men. Your hands feel warm in Rhaenyra’s hands, and she smiles. A true Targaryen always runs hot.

You smile back. Rhaenyra circles you, almost predatory. She drinks you in. The untamed spirit. The bewitching eyes. The bristles of teenage rebellion you have yet to shed.

The best parts of Daemon. What had pulled her in. Yet, not the same. Not at all.

You circle back, eyes narrowed. At the high table, your fathers watch. Both of them are pleased by what seems to be the end of the hostilities. They have no idea how you vex Rhaenyra, with those enchanting eyes of yours. How much she wants to find out what's inside that pretty skull, what makes you tick.

Then, the unexpected. As Rhaenyra extends her hand, about to make you twirl, you twirl her instead. Taking the lead from her. You twirl her, and as she comes out of it, it turns into a battle for dominance again. Rhaenyra starts doing the figures for the male partner a little more aggressively, clapping near your ear and forcing you to move to her will.

You struggle, at first. Then you give in. Sweet little cousin that you are, submitting to your Princess and future Queen. Yet, your smile is as ferocious as ever, shiny teeth just begging to sink into her and pull. Feral. As always.

The dance finishes with the two of you standing close, so close Rhaenyra can count every one of your lashes. Your chest rises and falls, lifting your tits tantalizingly. She thinks of licking the sweat from the valley between them, of biting the soft flesh. Of your beautiful little gasps.

Would your eyes light up in bed the same way hers do? After all, Viserys and Daemon are brothers. Both of you share some subtle similarities. Rhaenyra wonders if laying you down on her bed might be like having sex with her reflection. A distorted one, perhaps.

You stand in black, while she does it in white.

“We shouldn't.” Your voice breaks the spell. Despite your eyes constantly darting towards her lips, which Rhaenyra cannot help but lick, you seem spooked. She brushes a hand against your cheek, softly. Tilting your head just so to kiss you. “This is wrong.” You say, expression delightfully tortured. No matter your protests, you close your eyes, leaning into her.

She is so close to breaking you.

“You are a Targaryen.” It's the wrong thing to say. You pull away from her touch, frowning.

“And you are about to get married.”

“Aegon the Conqueror had two wives.” Rhaenyra presses. She is willing if it means having you. If your ancestor married sisters, why can't Laenor marry cousins?

“Does Laenor look to you like a man who could handle a wife, much less two?” You smile, showing her your canines in a bitter gesture. “My father seduces whores with that same line. Get your own.”

Joyfully, you go, right into Ser Harwin's arms. You start dancing with him. You don't look as good as you did when dancing with her. Your blush and your little giggles seem to put the man under a trance. Rhaenyra scowls. So much for wanting her. Good gods, were his affections so fickle? Were yours?

Wanting entertainment for the night, she glances at Daemon. Ugh. Dancing with that girl, Laena. Men. Always led by their cocks.

She doesn't want Daemon. She is not sure what she wants, in truth. Does she want you because you are so much like him? Or did she want him because he reminded her of you?

What was first, the dragon or the egg?

Rhaenyra is the one with fickle affections, much to her horror. As she stands in the middle of the dance floor, she feels adrift at the realization she has a type. Targaryens. Rhaenyra likes you, defiant little grins and all. But what really warms her blood is the thought of you and her being similar.

Is that what Daemon felt when looking at her? This deep connection, the urge to grab you and pull you away from Ser Harwin's arms, whose hands are straying lower and lower down your back. And you are letting him. You are letting him touch you, and sure, he is handsome. But you are a Princess, even if not in title. You are hers, as much Daemon is Viserys's.

Rhaenyra knows you want her. How could you not, when you looked at her with those eyes? As your own face crept closer and closer, it was clear Rhaenyra was not the only one who wanted that kiss. You had played along.

Now she is dancing with Laenor, making a pretty show. Your eyes track her every movement, despite being in the arms of your soon-to-be fiancé.

Everything is as it is supposed to be. You grin at Harwin, but Rhaenyra knows it lacks your usual strength. You are not at ease with the man and it shows. Oh, what wouldn't she do to pluck you from his arms and dance with you again.

Perhaps there is a way. Rhaenyra hides her smirk, passing it off as a smile to Laenor. As soon as the dance ends, she rushes to your side.

“Dearest cousin, you must stay with us for some weeks.” She says, interrupting you and Harwin. The man looks vaguely amused, a flicker of interest in his dark eyes. “The wedding has me thinking about our mothers, and how soon such a joyous occasion might come for you too.”

“Hm.” You answer, raising your eyebrows. The mention of your mother is a low thing to do, but it's the truth. Look at you, a maiden ripe for the taking. Marriage alliances, enviable prospects, yet motherless.

“I was thinking, as my marriage progresses, I could hope to be of guidance, just as Queen Alicent has been for me.”

“Guidance?” You ask, frowning. Maybe Rhaenyra had laid it a bit thick. She must redirect, less you spook again.

“There is much to be learned about marriage, of course. And it's my duty as the eldest cousin to prepare you for it.”

Ser Harwin's eyebrows raise. You give her your signature feral little grin. She wonders what those teeth will feel like again on her skin. Hesitantly, you place your arm on hers and allow her to pull you off the dance floor.

If you had yet to know or not the joys of the marital bed was no matter. The excuse was as good as any for getting you to stay. Rhaenyra would have to thank Daemon for that one.

[neonlight2]

Came back a king… and queen

Masterlist

She could taste the water, sweet on her teeth as it slid down her body, washing away the red that had stained her bronze skin. Her arms ache with fatigue, seemingly resting against the surface of the water. Every so often she’d let her fingers break the tension, dipping into the cool blanket of relief. Swirling behind, black as ink, her hair clings to the water alongside the body keeping her back warm. The same warmth that made her legs twitch and ache all the same, yet not from numbness.

She could feel him. The pure opposite of everything surrounding them. Hot to the touch, unlike the water which was so blissfully chilled. Rough and scratched, his fingers made her shiver as he caressed her, mercilessly breaking the smoothness of the water surrounding her skin.

Relentless, he touched her furiously as if to trap her there forever, to make her forget anything beyond the cave which they sought harbor in. Arms wrapped around her so tightly, if it weren’t for his heat and restless habit of roguishness, she would call him a snake. A serpent meant to pull her to the depths. Yet, she knew his nature was truly to hoarder her away like treasure, in a cave where this was all they would do. Where he would bathe her in pleasure.

He’d call her a nymph. Seducing him with every move, every look she graced him with, every single breathe she took in his presence. God he’d worship her like this every day if only she’d let him. He’d have her relaxing against him, beneath him, curling into him as she was now with his hands between her thighs. This was his reward, a space in the heaven within her.

Daemon knew just by the furrow of her brown, the tremor of her lip, and the way she gripped his hair from behind her— she was seconds from letting go.

“Won’t you let me indulge you forever Issa jaesa?”

“We can’t be late Dae.” She practically sung, spinning around as they dashed through the halls by themselves.

Glancing all around them, they could see the castle had grown dull without either of them. Candles half dead with wax drowning the flames. The servants had been all about no doubt. From what Rhaenyra had told them, as well as the letters sent by Edeline, the kingdom was in absolute shambles. Mimicking the worry of Viserys, a king facing war and a father without his daughter.

“They don’t even know we’re here Jaehaera,” he answered with a slight grumpy look on his face. His eyes trained on the pearls dripping off her body.

The people of the islands had crowned them both, but to Daemon’s delight, they took his calling her a goddess to heart.

They believed her a deity. A god sent from the highest sky into the depths of the sea, rising to war and ensuring peace for those that follow her.

So they dressed her in silks white as the sand and pearls that shared a likeness to raindrops in certain light. Falling across her face, waist, and breast. Daemon couldn’t decide who’d be least pleased by her attire, his brother or the green cunt who stood beside him.

Jaehaera tutted at him, a grin taking over her face— teeth sharp and white. “Don’t pout at me, my Prince. I rewarded you, don’t be greedy.”

If it weren’t for her excitement, Daemon knew his will would not be strong enough to withstand the urge to capture and devour her in the corner of this very hall. “It’s my nature. I’d wish you’d except yours.”

Scrunching her nose at him, she turned around and ceased her dancing. Now walking like a soldier, sword resting loosely on her bare hip. “Just behave would you? Let him at least see me safe before you make any outlandish remarks.”

Speeding his stride to catch up to hers, Daemon slipped his hands to her hip, stopping her before the door, where soldiers gawked in awe at the two. Helping her fasten the blade to her side, he let his eyes wander before smiling widely. Pride swelled in his chest upon seeing the mark resting between her breasts. She’d let him place it there. And he wished the world to see it.

“I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

“That’s a dangerous promise—,”

“Vow.”

“What?” She scoffed, staring at his in disbelief.

“It’s a vow. If I break it, you must kill me.”

“Must?”

“You may, if you wish.”

Staring at him, her eyes boiling with intrigue, she ordered, “Announce us would you, Daniel?”

Daemon could hear the guard scrambling to do his job, probably in shock by the sudden order, or more likely in a craze that the princess knew his name. What he didn’t know was that she knew all of their names. It’s something that still drove Daemon mad.

Which is why he vowed to himself to always surprise her. He wanted her to know him, but he needed her to never tire of him.

Thus the nature of their relationship.

“Prince Daemon and Princess Jaehaera have returned!”

The hall, once bustling with lords and advisors, went quiet at the declaration. They all scattered as the grand doors opened, revealing the two most restless dragons the kingdom had ever beheld.

Both approached the king in their own way. Daemon in his usual swagger, leaning back on his heels as he grew closer to his brother. While Jaehaera all but ran to her father, quickly dropping to her knees before him despite his numerous attempts to stop her. She dipped her body to the floor, then offered her sword as if it were her heart.

“Would you put it with your others, my king?”

The spectacle was dawning on all those that watched. Those who knew little but the rumors of the princess were taken aback by her display. Other, however, knew better.

The guards in which she trains with, sir Harwin and Cole, especially found this to be amusing. Knowing she harbored a flare for dramatic expression.

Otto thought it ridiculous. The sight of a princess, baring her sword to the king, having gone to war, and now returning with next to nothing on. It was a scandal. Don’t get him started on the crowns both royals wore.

His daughter, not far from his side, watched Jaehaera with big eyes. She had been amazed with the girl the second she’d met her, but there seemed to be nothing the princess couldn’t do. Her heart yearned to envy, but she could only find herself able to fawn. Over her accomplishments, her strength, her freedom, and how ethereal Jaehaera looked.

She watched with eagerness, waiting for the kings to embrace her, so Alicent may have a moment of her time—

“Get up and embrace your worried father,” Viserys said in a pleading tone, already standing as if he would pull her from the ground himself.

Jaehaera’s head lifted, baring her smile again to the world before hugging her father.

“I will not take your sword,” he stated, making Jaehaera’s heart sink, “you have far more things to do with it.”

“Then take mine,” Daemon threw his on the floor carelessly by their feet, peering at the crowd with a predatory gaze.

Coming back to his senses, Viserys waved his hand, silently ordering sir harwin to place the sword among the many others of his throne. Daemon didn’t miss the teasing glances between the knight and princess.

“You wear a crown in my presence?” His tone was warning, but held no real malice.

“We both do father,” Jaehaera answered, leaving his side briefly to take the Pearl encrusted headdress off. “But only to gift them to you.”

A small smile quirked onto Viserys face, lovingly gazing from his daughter to his brother. “Is this true?”

Nodding, Daemon stepped closer to the pair, a grin of his own growing. “We know there is only one true king of the realm.”

Rhaenyra saw her family whole, totally for once. Her father hugging her brother like children again. And Jaehaera gleefully looking around for her. When their eyes met, Rhaenyra swore her heart fluttered quick enough to make her believe it had stopped.

She had gotten taller. How it’s possible she didn’t know. Before she had left, Jaehaera was only a few inches taller than her, now she could be all but a foot. She had seen her mere weeks ago, yet she had changed so much. Jaehaera always seemed to change every time she left.

Her hair was near her knees and Daemons had been cut. Rhaenyra would hear all about it later.

Running to her with purpose, Jaehaera hoisted Rhaenyra into the air. Clinging to her like a child, the two girls marveled at the other.

Barely letting her go, Jaehaera offered the Pearl crown to her, a grin of determination set firmly. “I want you to have it Nyra.”

And before she could argue, Jaehaera pulled her by the waist as she placed it on her head. “Wear it for me please?”

She knew she would not deny her. They never do.

Alicent watched as her two friends hugged each other, happy and longing at the sight. She knew it would be her turn soon enough, that she mustn’t be impatient, Jaehaera would never forget her. She’d just admire for now, watch as Rhaenyra dawned Jaehaera’s crown, looking somewhat comical yet beautiful all the same. She watched as the raven haired girl towered over the other princess, occasionally caressing her as they gazed at one another.

Alicent would be a fool not to notice the way they looked at each other. With love, pure she still thought, but more all the same. It just wasn’t as blaring as Jaehaera and Daemon’s affections. Only those who truly knew the princesses would know. And she did.

She knew. But she cared little because she was part of that love, or at least that’s what she hoped. That all the time, shared glances and deep conversation, meant something more. Maybe she meant something more?

Her heart leaped when Jaehaera’s eyes flitted her way. The princess smile remained wide, but her eyes sparkled with something new— making a swarm of butterflies erupt from Alicent’s stomach, flying to her mouth. She wanted to scream hello, perhaps giggle like a smitten girl, but she couldn’t. Keeping her mouth closed, she glanced quickly at her father before waving at Jaehaera.

Jaehaera sent a wink in her direction, something not uncommon, she was a flirt and playful at heart, but something didn’t feel right.

It wasn’t until the princess’s brow lifted with a familiar fondness, only to dart away and finally wave at Alicent with a new smile, that she understood. Turning her head to look behind her, Alicent saw her.

Jaehaera’s favorite maid, Edeline— whom her father called a ‘pet’— stood in the shadows, leaning against a pillar with love stricken eyes.

There was the envy, and it was growing, green like an illness. It made Alicent feel sick—

“Have you missed me desperately Ally?”

Alicent jolted at the girl’s quick and overcoming presence. Willing herself to gasp out a ‘yes’.

Tilting her head, Jaehaera observed her friend closely, bringing her thumb to smooth the lines denting her forehead. “I didn’t worry you too much did I?”

Gulping Alicent shook her head, “I’ll always worry, but I trust you to know what you’re doing.”

Smiling gently, Jaehaera ran her hands down Alicent’s, finding her hands to kiss the scars she knew would reappear in her absence. “I’m so proud of you Ally.”

Jaehaera didn’t need to say anything further for Alicent to understand. She’d scolded herself numerous of times for biting and scratching at her finger, knowing Jaehaera would return and be saddened by the image. There were far less than in the past.

Leaning closer to her, Jaehaera whispered in Alicent’s ear, so low that she almost didn’t hear her.

“Go to sleep early, I’ll come see you later tonight. We have much to discuss.”

Then she was gone.

Moving from Alicent’s side, Jaehaera was like a phantom, guiding her young maid to the shadows to disappear with her.

And while she was already willing her eyelids to grow heavy, Alicent couldn’t help but wish for girl to trip and fall from the stair which lead to Jaehaera’s chambers. For she would be in her arms all evening, in the way she wanted to be tonight.

She couldn’t understand how Daemon and Rhaenyra would allow such a thing—

Until she saw their dark eyes following where hers had been.

She realized, they could do nothing but watch.

But she could.

Or rather, she knew someone that could.

…

[hllywdwhre]

Dreamer, Queen, Prince - Chapter 1

Pairing: Daemyra x fem!OC

Warnings: Please check masterlist for warnings. This work is 18+, MDNI

Masterlist

*112 AC

Viserea leaned down low against the saddle of Tessarion,

“Aderī! (Quickly.)” She shouted, smiling as the wind whipped in her face. Rhaenyra and Syrax were close behind them as they neared the dragonpit and Viserea was determined to win their race. As the four came dangerously close to the pit, Viserea called out to Tessarion again,

“Paerī, nepot. (Slow, to the pit).”

The dragons touched down at the same time and Viserea waited until the two dragonkeepers had Tessarion’s attention before dismounting. Giving her dragon one last loving pat on her neck, Viserea made her way over to where Rhaenyra stood with Lady Alicent Hightower.

Viserea bit her tongue and forced a polite smile onto her face as Rhaenyra and Alicent spoke for a moment more. They boarded the carriage together and Viserea kept her eyes out of the carriage window while they rode through the streets of King’s Landing. She didn’t bother joining in on the conversation. She and Alicent had never seen eye-to-eye on most things and she wouldn’t be the one to make Rhaenyra choose between her two closest friends, so staying quiet during the conversations between the two was the best thing she could think to do. Mayhaps it was jealousy, but Viserea refused to let her mind wander down that path. Every time she thought about it, she was left even more confused than before.

After exiting the carriage, Viserea stayed in step with Rhaenyra and Alicent, participating in their conversation just enough to not be considered rude. They approached Queen Aemma’s door and all three were swiftly let inside the Queen’s chambers. Alicent greeted the Queen, then gave a small bow to the Princesses, excusing herself to allow the two to visit with Aemma.

“My girls,” Aemma greeted with a warm smile which the Targaryens returned. “Must you two continue flying while I am in this condition? You know I do not like it.”

“Your Grace-” Viserea started, only to be stopped when Aemma held her hand up,

“Viserea, you have been my daughter for years now. Unless you wish for me to only address you as Princess, I ask you to stop referring to me as your Queen. Aemma will do fine,” Aemma told her, causing the girl to smile and nod her head.

“You don’t really prefer us flying while you're in any condition, mother,” Rhaenyra pointed out, causing her mother to chuckle, “Did you sleep?”

“I did,” Aemma answered.

“For how long?”

“You know I am the mother here, I do not need looking after.”

“Well all the attendants surrounding you seem to be focused on the babe, I can only count on myself and Viserea to attend to your needs.”

“Soon enough you two will both be going through the same discomfort. It is our duty to the realm,” Upon seeing both girls grimace, Aemma continued, “The knights ride into battle and we fight a battle here, ensuring our legacy lives on, and doing so with a stiff lip. Now go bathe, both of you. You smell of dragon.”

Viserea and Rhaenyra both bid the Queen goodbye and placed a kiss on her forehead before exiting the room.

“I know it is our duty, but I do not want to become a slave to that bed,” Rhaenyra said once they were far enough away that they could not be heard.

“Neither do I. I do not wish to become a slave to my husband either. Only viewed as a title with a womb that can give him and his house more power,” Viserea replied. This was a topic the two had discussed multiple times at depth.

“What is it you wish for in a marriage?” Rhaenyra asked Viserea, looking to her with genuine curiosity written across her features. Viserea blushed lightly as she answered,

“A marriage to rival Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys’. We would be wed in the Valyrian manner with cut lips and palms to bind us to each other. Someone who looked at me and did not view me as just a Targaryen Princess, but looked at me and recognized the power Targaryen Princesses truly held. Aegon did not lock Visenya and Rhaenys away to their bed chambers and force them to provide him with heirs. He had them fight alongside him and gave them a voice in his court by always taking their opinions into account.”

“You seem to have thought about this before.”

“And you have not?” Viserea asked, already knowing the answer.

“I am to be wed to Syrax and cake alone. Never to a man,” Rhaenyra joked, causing both her and Viserea to burst into a fit of laughter.

The two told each other they would meet at the Godswood and Rhaenyra made her way to the Small Council room as it was her day to be the cupbearer for the King.

It was one of the first things Viserys did. After making Viserea a member of his family, he declared both her and Rhaenyra to be cupbearers, saying they could each spend a day by his side, and that if there was a matter of extreme importance being discussed, there would simply be two cupbearers in the chamber.

While Rhaenyra carried out her duties, Viserea was bathed, redressed, and her hair was freshly braided. Ser Ryden met her at her door when she went to exit and begin heading to the tourney.

“Princess, there is someone here that wishes to see you in the throne room,” he informed her as he began guiding her to the throne room.

A wide smile came across Viserea’s face, already knowing who awaited. When she entered the throne room, it was to no surprise of hers that she saw Daemon seated upon the Iron Throne, though she could hear Ser Ryden behind her gasp at the disrespect.

“You play a dangerous game, Uncle. One might think your actions disrespectful and let you feel the wrath of a dragon,” Viserea greeted in their mother tongue of High Valyrian.

“Are we so sure that the Queen is to have a boy? This throne might end up mine yet,” Daemon said, a playful smirk on his face as he looked down at the Princess from where he sat.

“The King said he had a dream that it was a boy. Though he also said the boy was born wearing the crown of Aegon the Conquere so I am unsure of how much faith to place in his dream.”

“Is it not possible that the babe being born with a crown is a metaphor for him being crowned king later in life?” Daemon asked Viserea. She gave a shrug in response,

“Every dreamer is different. My dream of Rhaenyra and I was straightforward, but I do not know what Danys saw. It is alway possible that her dream was not actually of Valyria burning and she was left to decipher the meaning of her dream.” The limited knowledge on dragon dreams was something that had driven Viserea to tears many times; unable to tell if nightmares were just bad dreams, or if her family would truly face the fates she dreamed of.

“Describe the dream again,” Daemon commanded with a voice full of curiosity.

Viserea had explained the dream to him multiple times over by now, yet he asked to hear the story of it every time. She had no qualms with explaining it again and again to Daemon, for he seemed to be the only one, aside from Rhaenyra, who seemed curious about the dreams. Others seemed to be in a state of awe after hearing it and many at court used “meeting the dreamer” as a bragging right to their peers. Daemon and Rhaenyra were the two that helped her look at every possible angle with her dreams, prophetic or not, and decipher if there was another meaning to them. So Viserea retold the story of her dream and the events that had taken place the next day.

“If the whispers are to be believed, I will be gifting you a new saddle for your dragon, soon,” Daemon said, apparently not being able to come up with any other meaning for Viserea’s dream and changing the topic of conversation.

“The dragonmasters say she will outgrow the pit at the rate she is growing and possibly grow larger than Meleys and Caraxes in the coming years. There are many adult dragons down there that Tessarion has grown larger than,” Viserea spoke in the common tongue now, though anyone could have told she was proud of her dragon by the look on her face.

“It seems fitting that the Targaryen princess named for Visenya would hatch and bond to her own dragon that is bound to reach the same size as Vhagar.” Daemon wore a proud look on his face as he spoke.

“I believe Tessarion will outgrow Vhagar and that we are looking at the next Balerion.”

The voice came from behind Viserea and she turned to see Rhaenyra approaching her. “Nice to see you again, Uncle. What has brought you back?”

“The tourney in my honor, Princess,” Daemon answered, stepping down from the Iron Throne.

“He still is not sure that mother's babe is the heir,” Viserea told Rhaenyra, to which she nodded.

“And until she brings forth a son, you are all stuck with me.” Daemon stopped in front of the two girls, looking down at them.

“Then Viserea and I shall both hope for a son,” Rhaenyra said, smirking up at Daemon and causing Viserea to giggle.

Daemon smirked back at Rhaenyra then looked to Viserea with the same fond expression before pulling something out for each of them.

“I brought each of you something. Do you know what they are?”

Viserea and Rhaenyra each reached for the object he held out towards them. He had brought Viserea back a ring and earrings, which she gently took. The steel felt cold in her hands and she realized what it was at the same time as Rhaenyra.

“Valyrian steel,” they said at the same moment.

“So we can all have a piece of our ancestry. Turn around,” Daemon said to Rhaenyra.

Viserea took out the earrings she wore currently and put in the earrings Daemon had brought her while Daemon helped Rhaenyra fasten the new necklace. After he had fastened Rhaenyra’s necklace, he took the ring from Viserea and gently placed it on her hand.

“They were intended to be worn together, but I do believe you two are one of the same. If both of you wear it, the set might as well be worn by the same person,” Daemon remarked, causing both of the girls to look at each other and exchange smiles. “I’ll see you both at the Tourney.” He said, dipping his head respectfully to the girls before leaving the throne room.

Rhaenyra and Viserea looked at each other after they had watched him leave, then began making their way to the Godswood, where they were both due to go over their studies with Alicent.

“How was the Council?” Viserea asked, reverting back to speaking in Valyrian so that the matters handled in the council would stay private.

“The Maester asked about the Rogue’s progress on the City Watch, father brushed it off and said he was ‘occupied’,” Rhaenyra started, distaste clear in her voice and it was obvious to Viserea that Rhaenyra was giving her the nice version of what was really said, “the Sea Snake is worried about a Triarchy in the Stepstones being led by a man who calls himself the Crabfeeder and what it could mean for our ports. No one paid that any mind because soon the Tourney was brought up.”

Viserea interjected before Rhaenyra could continue, “The trading ports? If there is danger near them, I side with the Sea Snake. Those ports cannot be lost.”

Rhaenyra gave Viserea a look that said she agreed, “The Tourney holds father’s attention over the ports. Who wants to think of war when the future king is supposed to be born?”

Viserea did not reply, knowing the question was a rhetorical one. Her thoughts raced everywhere as they continued walking to the Godswood; some of them on Aemma’s labors, others thinking of the Tourney, others thinking of the ports in the Stepstones, and a small portion of her thoughts thinking of the ring on her finger, the necklace around Rhaenyra’s neck, and the earrings adorning her ears.

For once, Viserea was happy to see Alicent. She offered a distraction. Viserea could focus on the stories of the rulers before them instead of the matters at hand. She answered all of Alicent’s questions, and helped Rhaenyra answer the ones she tried to simply play off. Viserea watched as Rhaenyra laid her head in Alicent’s lap and continued brushing off all of Alicent’s questions, even as Alicent grew frustrated.

She stayed seated when Alicent stood up and let a smirk play across her face when Rhaenyra recited Princess Nymeria’s tale of fleeing across the Narrow Sea. Viserea knew Rhaenyra could recite most of the book, and that she was much smarter than she let on, and in the moments she showed it, pride would flow through Viserea.

As they walked back to the castle, the three of them laughed as Rhaenyra cussed the Septa, and let their topic of conversation change to that of who was attending the Tourney.

Viserea was awoken early the next morning, the light of day not even shining through her windows yet. Groggily, she stumbled to the door of her chambers, opening it and finding two handmaidens standing there.

“The Lord Hand sent us to ready you, Princess. A Small Council meeting has been called.” Stepping back, Viserea allowed the handmaidens to enter.

They dressed her quickly, and one of them styled her hair in a simple braid, given the short amount of time they had. Neither of them spoke to Viserea, knowing she was not talkative in the mornings, and Viserea was grateful. She thanked both of them once they were finished and stepped out of her room, being greeted by Ser Ryden.

“You look as lovely as ever, Princess,” he greeted, walking beside her as they made their way to the Council room.

“I do not feel it, Ser. I feel as though I have just been called out of bed before the sun has risen,” Viserea said bitterly, though the knight knew none of the bitterness was directed towards him.

The two met with Otto and the King as they neared the room,

“…it was an unprecedented roundup of alleged criminals of every ilk. Your brother made a public show of it, meting out the summary judgments himself. I'm told they needed a two-horse cart to haul away the resulting… dismemberments when it was done,” Otto said, paying no mind to Viserea as she joined them.

“Gods be good…” She heard Viserys mumble as the entered the Council room.

“The Prince cannot be allowed to act with this kind of unchecked impunity,” Otto continued before being interrupted by the Lord Commander, Redwyne.

Daemon’s presence sent a jolt through Viserea and it took her a moment to remember her duties. She walked to the side of the room and picked up the wine, beginning to fill the cups of the attending council members, though Daemon and Corlys were the only two to acknowledge her with a thanks.

Viserea stopped behind Otto’s chair, her eyes on the blood streak that stained Daemon’s gold cloak.

“Do not let me interrupt, my Lord Hand. You were saying something about my impunity?” Daemon spoke, both he and Viserea watching as Otto looked to the king to continue the conversation.

When he stayed silent, Otto moved to his seat, causing Viserea to have to quickly step to the side to avoid being hit by the chair. Lyonel Strong reached for Viserea’s arm to steady her and Daemon’s look towards Otto turned to a glare.

“You are to explain your doings with the City Watch,” Otto said, paying no mind to Viserea.

“What about them?” Daemons questioned. He sat down along with the rest of the council when the king sat down.

“Your new “gold cloaks” made quite an impression last night,” King Viserys finally spoke.

“Did they?” Daemon replied, causing Viserea to force back a smile.

“The City Watch is not a sword to be wielded at your whim. They are an extension of the crown,” Otto continued before being cut off.

“The Watch was enforcing the crown’s laws. Wouldn’t you say, Lord Strong?” Daemon and Viserea both looked to Lord Strong, who looked taken aback. He stuttered out a “My Prince” before Otto was speaking over him again.

“Making a public spectacle of wanton brutality is hardly in line with our laws,” the Hand said.

Viserea couldn’t help herself as she stood still between the Hand and the Master of Laws and let her eyes flicker between Otto and Daemon.

“Nobles from every corner of the realm are right now descending King’s Landing for my brother’s tourney. Do you want them to be mugged, raped, murdered?” Daemon’s face looked bored as he continued speaking to Otto, “You mightn’t know this unless you stepped out of the Red Keep, Lord Hightower, but much of King’s Landing is seen by the smallfolk as lawless and terrifying. Our city should be safe for all its people.”

“It’s true,” Viserea spoke, causing all heads to turn towards her. The blush that graced her cheeks matched the red in the gems of the jewelry gifted to her by Daemon which she currently wore. “The smallfolk don’t allow their children to roam the streets as they once did.”

“And how would you be aware of this?” Otto asked, looking up at her.

“Princess Rhaenyra and I notice it when we fly above. The children used to chase our dragons through the streets and now their parents keep a hand on them to prevent them from doing so,” She replied confidently, the lie coming easy to her. She would not tell them how she truly knew, though Viserys and Daemon both knew the truth and she could tell by the look the King was giving her.

“I agree that the city should be safe for all of its people, I just hope you don’t have to maim half my city to achieve this,” Viserys said, trying to calm the tension in the room.

“Time will tell,” Daemon answered easily, still looking up at Viserea.

Viserea looked away when Corlys voiced his support for Daemon and made her way around the table to top off anyone’s cups that needed it. She came to a stop next to Daemon when Otto brought up Daemon’s marriage. A sour taste filled Viserea’s mouth but she forced her face to remain blank.

“We understand from Lord Yorkers that you’ve not been seen in the Vale or at Runestone in some time. Queen Aemma was very proud to have arranged your union with Lady Rhea,” Otto continued on.

“I would think my bronze bitch is happier for my absence.” Daemon’s statement caused Lyman Beesbury and Lord Strong to both take sips of their wine, while Corlys and Viserea made eye contact and exchanged similar looks of amusement.

“Lady Rhea is your wife, a good and honorable lady of the Vale-“

“In the Vale, men are said to fuck sheep instead of women. I can assure you, the sheep are prettier.”

“You took a vow before the eyes of the Seven to honor the Lady Rhea in marriage.”

“Lady Rhea doesn’t seem to enjoy the Prince’s company either, is he to force himself on her?” Viserea quipped, an eyebrow raised toward the Hand.

Before Otto could reply, Daemon cut in again, seeing that Otto’s temper was about to turn on Viserea.

“I’d gladly give Lady Rhea to you, Lord Hightower, if you’re in need of a woman to warm your bed. Your own lady wife passed recently, did she not?”

Viserea nor Daemon flinched when Otto jumped from his chair, sending it toppling over.

“Perhaps you aren’t ready to move on just yet,” Daemon said, causing Viserea to cover her chuckle with a small cough.

“You know my brother makes sport of provoking you, Otto. Must you indulge him?” Viserys asked, his own exhaustion at the dynamic evident in his voice.

As Otto utters an apology and picks up his chair, Viserys looks up at Viserea, silently reprimanding her for aiding in Daemon’s comments. The King turned to Daemon and spoke once Otto had sat back down.

“The council has, at great expense, bettered the City Watch to your exact standards. Enforce my laws, but know that any further performances like last night’s will be answered.”

“Understood, Your Grace,” Daemon said, standing up from his spot, “Was there anything else?”

“That is all. You and Viserea can both be dismissed.”

Viserea was not surprised at her early dismissal, knowing it was the response to her comments and to her admitting she was sneaking around the city again.

She placed the wine down on its table and walked to the end of the table, where she took Daemon’s arm that he offered to her. She looked up at him as they left the room, clear confusion written on her face but no answers were given until the doors of the room were shut behind them.

Daemon answered her unspoken question, “I really do enjoy getting under our dear Hand’s skin, and offering the Princess my arm to escort her from the room and show that I do know how to use my manners is a great way of doing so.”

Viserea forced herself not to let the laughter consume her body, though the broad smile she wore showed just how amused she was at Daemon’s actions.

“I am glad I’m not the only one who enjoys watching his face turn red. It was worth being dismissed from the meeting early and any stern words I’ll receive from the King about my sneaking into the city if it means taking him down a peg.”

“You should be more careful, Princess. I am watching how you handle yourself in these meetings, and I cannot offer such a rebellious person a place in my council,” Daemon teased.

“Your council?” Viserea questioned, “Going by the King’s word, it will not be your council. It will be his son’s. I will be promised no place on the future King’s council so I might as well make sure my place is noted in the books. I do not wish to just be remembered as another Targaryen Princess married off to a Lord in order to further whichever King’s political gain.” Though her tone was light, her words held some weight.

“I shall see to it that you are remembered as more than that,” Daemon told her, his words completely erasing the joking atmosphere between the two. Viserea doesn’t doubt his words for a moment, looking up at him and offering him a small smile.

“I look forward to seeing how you carry out that promise,” she told him.

The rest of the day flew by uneventfully for Viserea. She had attended another council meeting of little importance later in the day, and recited the events of the two meetings to Rhaenyra in her chambers before they went to bed.

She did well when the Septa tested her on the histories and the Septa rewarded her with another book from the North, specifically from Winterfell, though this one was clearly written for her. It was a detailed history of the Starks and must have been written by the Starks own maester. The book was heavier than most, but Viserea knew some of that weight was mental. She had learned what she must about her family in her classes, but couldn’t bring herself to study more about them. It made her feel closer to her mother, but she found the cost to be just as large as the reward.

Viserea was never ashamed of who her mother was, in fact, she frequently wore dresses of Stark grey intertwined with Targaryen red to honor her mother and her mother’s family. However, she could only sometimes bring herself to do more than that. She loved Aemma as a mother figure, and she knew that Aemma loved her as if she was her own. Viserea was grateful for the love she received from her father’s family, but that did not fill the hole she felt of not having her own mother there with her. Learning about the Starks made her feel closer to her mother and farther away at the same time.

Viserea was more than grateful for the afternoon dragon ride she was able to take with Rhaenyra, though they kept the flight short in case Aemma’s condition changed at all. The short time in the air helped clear her head and she was back to her usual self by the time they returned to the pit.

That night, after Viserea had told Rhaenyra of the council meeting and they had bid each other a good night, Viserea fell asleep quickly. The sleep did not last long though.

She did not remember what the dream started as, but it quickly turned to one of horror. Aemma in pain, blood soaked sheets, and two pyres being burned by dragonfire at Rhaenyra’s command. She was shaken awake by Ser Ryden, concern written on his face as he checked her over for injuries and started to call for the maesters.

“No, don’t!” Viserea commanded, through a tear soaked face. “It was a dream, nothing is wrong with me.” She said, falling against Ser Ryden and sobbing into the cool metal of his armor.

“I need Nyra and Daemon.” She told him, pulling away. There wasn’t a single protest from him as he left the room to retrieve the two, coming back less than a moment later with a disheveled and concerned Rhaenyra.

“The Prince is not in his chambers.” Ser Ryden said, “I checked them myself on the way to the Princess’.”

Rhaenyra quickly made her way to Viserea’s bed and the two hugged each other tightly.

“Is it bad?” Rhaenyra asked her after a couple minutes of their embrace. Viserea took a shaky breath and nodded,

“Horrible. The other nightmares were nothing like this, they weren’t prophecies, this was.” Viserea told her, pulling away to look at Rhaenyra.

“What is it about?” Rhaenyra asked. Viserea tried to reply, but felt the tears start again and took a couple deep breaths to calm herself,

“I feel like if I say it out loud, it will make it come true and you will hate me for it.”

“I could never hate you.” Rhaenyra said quickly, taking Viserea’s hands in her own. “You see prophecies. They are already set in stone, you do not make them.”

“It’s mother.” Viserea said.

She gave Rhaenyra a moment to decide if she wanted to hear more and, once she nodded for her to continue, told her of the prophecy. She left out the gruesome details, telling her only that she saw Rhaenyra giving Syrax the command to burn their pyres.

“There’s more.” Rhaenyra wasn't asking, she knew that Viserea was withholding part of the dream.

“Trust me and hear me when I say that you do not want to know. It is not something you need to be haunted with.” Viserea’s voice was cold and serious, making Rhaenyra nod.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Rhaenyra asked her, though she had already begun pulling the blankets back for herself.

“Please.” Viserea replied.

The two girls laid down next to each other, with Viserea pulling Rhaenyra into her side. Neither of them said another word. Neither of them knew what to say. They simply took what little comfort they could in each other’s presence.

Rhaenyra nor Viserea slept much the rest of the night, the two waking each other up due to a bad dream or anxiety the moment the other fell asleep. When their handmaidens saw to them the next morning, both girls looked as exhausted as they felt and neither of them wanted to attend breakfast.

The Princesses’ late arrival to the tourney did not go unnoticed by Viserys, who threw both girls a sidelong glance. Viserea and Rhaenyra both apologized to the nobles they had to climb across and Viserea sat on the side of Rhaenyra not occupied by Alicent.

When Viserea nor Rhaenyra showed much interest in Alicent’s gossip of Lady Elinor being secretly pregnant, Viserea saw her curve her body to face them and she dropped her voice.

“Are you feeling well?” She asked with a voice of genuine concern.

“Rea was sick last night, I stayed with her.” Rhaenyra lied quickly, though Viserea shook her head.

“She can know.” Viserea said, dropping her voice down and turning herself to the two girls beside her. “I had another dream last night. It was… gruesome to say the least.”

“Might I know the subject?” Alicent asked the two.

Viserys stood from behind the three of the girls,

“It has just been told to me that Queen Aemma has begun her labors!” He announced, smiling widely as the crowd cheered loudly.

Upon seeing Rhaenyra and Viserea exchange glances with clear worry written on their faces, Alicent quickly realized what the dream was about.

“Is there a way to stop it?” Alicent asked, but quickly backtracked “Apologies, you two would have already done it if you could.” She told them, taking one of their hands in each of her own.

“I won’t discuss the details of what I did see. They aren’t pleasant.” Viserea looked to Alicent, whose face was laced with curiosity and a sad look.

“She would not even tell me, only that she saw me burning the two pyres.” Rhaenyra said, her voice still dropped low, though all eyes were on the knights dueling below.

The three girls’ attention was drawn away from each other for a moment as the Master of Revels introduced Daemon and watched as he and his horse passed along the knights lined up.

When he pointed his lance to Gwayne Hightower, Viserea forced herself to keep the amused smile off of her face. Alicent was okay sometimes and Viserea had grown used to her presence due to Rhaenyra’s close friendship with her and she trusted her not to wrong them, but that was the nicest she could speak of the Hightower family.

Daemon dismounting Alicent’s brother caused all of the nobles and royals in the box to lean forward and Rhaenyra to gently rub Alicent’s back in a calming manner once her brother stood up.

“Nicely done, Uncle.” Rhaenyra told him.

“Quite a skilled performance.” Viserea said.

“Thank you, my Princesses.” He tells them both, smiling at them after removing his helmet. He lowers his lance towards Alicent, “I’m fairly certain I can win these games, Lady Alicent. Having your favor would all but assure it.”

The same feelings of jealousy that Viserea had spent hours in solitude debating rose as a bile in her throat as she watched Alicent blush and stand up before placing the favor on Daemon’s lance.

“Good luck, my Prince.” Alicent wished him.

Viserea looked to Rhaenyra who was already looking at her. Both of them had frowns on their faces that they forced away when Alicent returned.

As the tourney continued on, Viserea’s favor was given to her cousin, Rickon, who invited her to see Winterfell.

Upon seeing Ser Criston Cole dismount Lord Boremund Baratheon, Rhaenyra called over Ser Harrold and Ser Ryden and questioned if either of them knew of the Cole man.

“We have been asking the same thing, Princesses and my Lady. I’m told Ser Criston is common-born, the son of Lord Blackhaven’s steward. Other than that, and the fact he has now unhorsed both the Baratheon lads, I could not say.” Ser Harrold told the three girls.

The three move to the guard-rail when it is announced that Ser Criston has chosen Daemon to tilt against. Viserea’s attention is drawn away from the fight and she grips the guard-rail tight enough that her knuckles turn white due to the strange feeling taking over body.

“Prince Daemon Targaryen wishes to continue in a melee!” The voice barely breaks through Viserea’s trance while she concentrates on taking deep breaths to steady herself. She hardly registers the rest of the world, only noticing from the sound of the crowd that Daemon had apparently been bested by Ser Criston and feeling Rhaenyra’s hand rest on top of hers.

“Sit.” Rhaenyra commands her, leaving no room in her voice for argument and Viserea doesn’t try to.

She begins to make her way to her seat, but is waved over by Princess Rhaenys, while Corlys stands and allows her to take his seat.

“Thank you, my Lord, but you did not have to give up your seat.” Viserea tells him.

“Nonsense. You looked as though you were about to faint.” Corlys spoke in Valyrian to the Princess, avoiding drawing any concern to them.

“Are you that concerned for your uncle’s wellbeing?” Rhaenys asked though she knew that was not the cause for Viserea’s episode.

Viserea looked to her cousin, her dark hair and lilac eyes complimented each other and the rare combination radiated power that Viserea had nothing but respect for.

“I always worry for my uncle, but no, that is not the reason for my… unease.” Viserea struggled to find the word that fit exactly what she was feeling.

The three of them turned their heads when they noticed Viserys and Otto leaving the box, and though she had not eaten anything since the night before, Viserea still felt she might be sick. She looked back to Rhaenyra and Alicent and was grateful neither of them had seemed to notice the absence.

“It is the Queen. You’ve had another dream and the Princess and Lady know of it.” Rhaenys’ declaration did not surprise Viserea; Rhaenys was a smart, strong, and observant woman.

Corlys’ looked down at Viserea when she nodded,

“You can feel the dream happening?” Corlys asked and Viserea shook her head.

“I don’t feel her labor pains, but I feel that the dream is happening. It did not happen when I predicted our first dragon ride, though I was still a child and the excitement of my first flight was the only thing I noticed.” Viserea looked between Rhaenys and Corlys as they exchanged glances.

The three of them stood as more cheers and screams of the crowd suddenly grew louder. They glanced down and saw that multiple fights had broken out which brought a sneer to Rhaenys’ face.

“Some way to celebrate the birth of our future king.” Corlys said with distaste.

“Their lords sent them to the tourney field with fists full of steel and balls full of seed. None of them have known real war. It is a wonder that war did not break out at first blood.” Rhaenys spoke in the common tongue now and moments later Otto returned to the royal box.

He whispered something into Corlys’ ear and went to the next member of the small council. The unease Viserea felt was gone, washed away by grief. She did not need to hear the Hand’s words in order to know the message he delivered.

A flurry broke out in the royal box and Viserea stood quickly, pushing her way through until she stood just outside of it, awaiting Rhaenyra. Once Rhaenyra joined her, Viserea immediately took her hand, letting Rhaenyra lead the way as she wordlessly followed her.

As they arrive at the Queen’s chambers, Viserea bites her tongue to avoid letting any tears fall. They both step into the doorway but neither cross the threshold. Aemma had already been taken out of the room and Viserea’s grip on Rhaenyra’s hand tightened as the short flashes of blood and pain from her dream began flashing through her head. When Viserys does not move from his spot, Rhaenyra is back to pulling Viserea down the hallways, not stopping until they reach Rhaenyra’s own chambers where she begins pacing in front of her bed.

“I was never good enough for him. A daughter with a womb, never a son with a cock.” Rhaenyra’s words shocked Viserea, but not because of what she said. The anger in her voice was surprising.

Viserea stepped closer to Rhaenyra, stopping her from walking and hugging her tightly. She felt Rhaenyra’s tears soak the shoulder of her dress and the two sat on the foot of her bed and her own tears soon began soaking Rhaenyra’s dress.

The tears eventually stopped flowing and the two of them moved to lay in the middle of Rhaenyra’s bed. Each of them had their arms wrapped around each other while Viserea laid on her back with Rhaenyra’s head on her chest.

“I feel selfish. I was able to know my mother and I grieve the loss of only one. You have now grieved the loss of two and it is you who comforts me.” Rhaenyra spoke, her voice gravelly.

“Our losses are not meant to be competitions, Nyra. You comforted me last night and I was delivering news of Aemma’s and your brother’s loss.” Viserea said, playing with a strand of Rhaenyra’s hair that had fallen.

“I will have to give the command?” Rhaenyra looked up at Viserea as she asked.

“I saw you give the command and since your father’s dragon has passed, the responsibility would fall to you. However, you are the Princess of the Realm. If you wanted me to give the command to Tessarion, I would oblige… and I am sure Daemon would offer Caraxes.”

“No. I will not pass off my responsibilities to someone else so that I may wallow in my own pity.” Rhaenyra said with a firm tone.

Viserea nodded and the two sat up when they heard a knock on the door. Rhaenyra cleared her throat before saying,

“Enter.”

Viserea’s favorite handmaiden, Amarda, entered followed by one of Rhaenyra’s. They each carried a tray of food and gently sat them on one of the tables of the room.

“I thought you two would enjoy your dinner in the Princess’ chambers tonight. The King had his delivered to his own chambers.” Amarda explained, offering a hand to each of the girls to help them stand.

“Thank you, Amarda.” Viserea offered her a small smile which she returned.

Rhaenyra and Viserea ate what they could stomach of their dinners and were briefly separated long enough to bathe and dress in their nightclothes. They joined each other in Rhaenyra’s room again afterwards and eventually received the news that Baelon had also passed.

A second sleepless night was spent together and the handmaidens offered no surprise to see them in Rhaenyra’s room together the next morning as they brought them their breakfast. The two were soon dressed in black dresses and cloaks and being ushered to the funeral.

It was late afternoon by the time everyone was brought out to Rhaenys’ Hill, the morning being spent inside and dealing with nobles offering well wishes to the remaining Targaryens. Viserea did not bother wiping away her tears as the Septon spoke. She kept her posture straight and her head high, her free hand by her side and the other laced with Rhaenyra’s. She did not know if she had offered her hand in an attempt to comfort Rhaenyra or herself, but she was glad when Rhaenyra took it. She could force herself to maintain a regal posture and not be ashamed of her tears, but she could not force herself to stand without the other princess.

The crowd turned to look towards Rhaenyra, signaling it was time for her to say the word, though she made no move.

“They’re waiting for you.” Daemon spoke gently from behind the two.

Viserea saw Rhaenyra’s jaw clench in anger and she ran her thumb across the other’s knuckles. Daemon stepped to stand on the other side of Rhaenyra and offered his arm to her.

“Come. We’ll go together.”

“I wonder if, for those few hours my brother lived, my father finally found happiness.” Rhaenyra snapped, her breathing getting deeper.

Viserea kept quiet, agreeing with Rhaenyra’s words, but knowing her input would help nothing.

“Your father needs you… more now than he ever has.” Daemon said, looking to Viserea next, “Both of you.”

“We are not sons.” Rhaenyra said, dropping Viserea’s hand and stepping forward.

Daemon takes a step towards Viserea so they stand shoulder to shoulder. They both watch as Rhaenyra raises her head to speak and then pauses. Viserea can sense it before it happens and grabs Daemon’s wrist, stopping him from going to her again.

“Daor. (No.)” Viserea said, stopping Daemon. She knew Rhaenyra needed to do this on her own and that she would not appreciate the help.

“Dracarys.” Rhaenyra spoke. The dragon stepped forward, letting out a low moan, as if feeling Rhaenyra’s pain herself. A moment later and the dragon’s fire was cascading over the two pyres.

Viserea did not move from her spot as others began leaving the hill. She reassured Rhaenyra she would be inside soon and saw from the corner of her eye Alicent and Rhaenyra walk off together. Daemon did not move from Viserea’s side. When the hill finally emptied and the last of the smoke rose from the ashes left of the two members of their family, Viserea finally spoke.

“The gods are cruel. I have now attended four funerals for my family, and there is no positive to outweigh the grief. Rhaenyra and I both grieve the loss of a mother, I grieve the loss of a father, and the father Rhaenyra so desperately needs has never learned to appreciate her. ‘The Realm’s Delight’ they call her, and he has never opened his eyes to see how true those words are.”

“He loves her, loves both of you-“ Daemon started, though he was cut off by a harsh laugh from Viserea.

“I have no doubt in my mind that he loves us, but he does not love us the way he would have loved Baelon. He does not love me the way he loves Rhaenyra. He has already begun discussing possible future betrothals for Rhaenyra, but does not mention any for me. He may love us, but he treats her as no more than a political pawn and he does not even treat me as that. His first royal decree on the very day he was made King was that I was part of his family and I was to be treated in the same respect as Rhaenyra, and it is he himself who failed that.” Viserea’s words were laced with bitterness as she stared ahead with a few more fresh tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

“The two of you do not see how much he truly loves you.” Daemon replied, his voice sincere.

“He did not notice anything was wrong with me at the tourney. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys noticed before he did. She was the one who put it together that I had another dream. Alicent noticed that something was wrong before he did! Alicent whom I do not speak to unless I must! The man who I am supposed to view as a father saw nothing wrong with me or his blood born daughter!” By the end of the rant, Viserea was shouting through tears and grateful that the hill was empty.

Viserea felt Daemon pull her towards him and she allowed herself to melt into his embrace and wrap her arms around him in return. After a couple minutes, Viserea had calmed down and she pulled away from him, wiping away any sign of her tears.

“You had another dream?” Daemon asked her, not commenting on her previous show of emotion.

“Yes. I called for you and Rhaenyra last night, but you were not there. I did not tell Rhaenyra the full extent of it and I never will. She doesn’t need to know what her mother went through in her final moments.” Viserea said, her tone surpassing its previous bitterness and turning to one bordering hate by the end.

“What was the full dream?” His voice was cautious, as if he was afraid that asking would only make her angrier.

“The babe was in breach. They were both going to die no matter what, but Aemma was never told that. He held her down like a pig for slaughter as the Maester suggested a new way being practiced in the citadel. She died terrified and in pain. Her screams will not leave my nightmares anytime soon.” Viserea told him.

“You do not plan to forgive him for this.” It wasn’t a question that Daemon asked. He already knew the answer.

“You and Rhaenyra are the only Targaryen family I have left.” Looking up at him, Viserea’s lilac eyes were cold and Daemon understood that her words were true to her.

[aelyxtarg]

Rhaenyra and her wife's dragon Vermithor

[ioaezz]

HOTD ♱ THE 30TH! ℬEES 𝒜ND 𝒥OUSTS

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ YEARS UPON YEARS THE ELDER SISTER of rhaenyra targaryen wondered as to how her luck never seemed to run out, that is until her unfortunate death that left the valyrian family shaken. whether she was blessed or cursed was up to perception as rhaenyra gave birth to her first child whom shared an eerily similar appearance with the late princess. . .

𝒫AIRING. . . slight!erryk cargyll x fem!oc, gwayne hightower x fem!oc, platonic!targ!family x oc

𝒲ORDCOUNT. . . 4.6k

𝒢ENRE. . . romance, slightly angsty maedora but nothing too bad, fluff, series

𝒲ARNINGS. . . wounds, jealous!gwayne, otto scheming

ℐOAEZZ. . . already losing motivation to continue writing (╥﹏╥) anyways! i imagined harry gilby as laurel tyrell specifically when he played in the last kingdom!

𝕿he week passed by agonisingly slow, days melting into another as Maedora attended her lessons miserably. Septa Cantrell seemed stricter than usual, according to her, she was becoming a woman grown. That meant the likelihood she'd be able to escape the feral Septa became smaller by the day.

Her words frightened the princess in a way. She wished to remain a child for the remainder of her life but alas she had grown used to the notion of being a woman. The only thing that truly fascinated her was the concept of becoming a mother.

The idea seemed outlandish to most, the Princess was immature nearly incompetent of taking care of herself let alone another human being. Perhaps it was simply the influence in her life that led her to such a conclusion at such a young age, not that she'd ever find out as she'd forever remain trapped in a world as misogynistic as the one she lived in.

Truthfully, Maedora didn't truly comprehend what it took to be a mother. For years, she'd attempted to convince herself that children were born from flower seeds and not from women's wombs, but her Septa managed to trample that ludicrous belief out. She hadn't been around plenty of mothers except for her own though she hadn't seen the struggles Aemma went through to raise her two daughters as she had been a mere child when Rhaenyra was born. She couldn't grasp that once she'd have her child, it would belong to the Realm and not to herself like she desired. To her, it was a way to cure her loneliness in a world this cruel, one that couldn't understand her in a way she believed someone of her own blood would. She wished to share her beliefs with her child, so one less person in the world would suffer the dreadful view that most lived with. Though it all seemed a distant dream for now.

"Sister! We must make haste if we wish to make it on time for the tourney!" Rhaenyra called as the two flew over the city. Maedora glanced over at her before nodding, saddened that she would have to part from her dragon, Cricket, once more.

Cricket was unironically named after the insect species that the princess was particularly fond of at the time. The dragon was considerably smaller than most dragons like Meleys or even Syrax and had softer features, but she was quicker and more agile than any other dragon that couldn't for the life of them, take off without everyone in a ten-mile radius knowing of it.

The two dragons hovered above the dragon pit before landing carefully so as not to harm anyone. Cricket shook her head while Maedora climbed down. Once her feet were stable on the ground, her dragon nudged her snout closer to the princess' face and blew a gush of air playfully. The white-haired girl giggled, patting her devoted companion on the head before sauntering over to the carriage with her younger sister in tow. The two girls settled down, each on their respective side as the horses started moving. The vehicle drove back towards the castle, where they would have to change quickly.

"Mother won't be pleased that we went flying on your nameday," Rhaenyra grinned as she tinkered with her riding gloves, which she had pulled off when they dismounted their dragons. "She is never pleased whenever we fly," Maedora smiled before turning to look outside of the small window. The younger princess eyed her sister for a while, wondering how she felt, as she would have to announce her betrothal tonight.

"Are you afraid?"

Maedora took her time to think of an answer though she frowned at the fact that her younger sister was already worried about things like that. She wished to assure her, but she wasn't one for comfortable lies and neither was Rhaenyra, but to answer honestly is to face the harsh reality.

"I believe only a fool wouldn't be," her abrupt words surprised Rhaenyra slightly, who was more used to her sister communicating in soft-spoken riddles. She knew Maedora was smarter than she led on, but to suddenly witness it, was startling at the very least. Rhaenyra gulped, nodding in understanding as she looked down at her hands as if deep in thought. The older princess looked at her sister in sympathy before intertwining their hands in an effort to soothe her.

"I desire to remain a child forever, though that is not possible. But I believe if I were to continue this wishful thinking, I would become miserable, wasting years yearning for the past while failing to see the beauty of the present." The words did little to quell Rhaenyra's worries, but she knew that she'd never be alone as long as she had her sister by her side. She mustered a remote smile and squeezed Maedora's hands to let her know that she was feeling alright. "Let us not dwell on this matter anymore, and enjoy your six and tenth name day."

They reached the castle not long after that and ran as quickly as they could towards their chambers to get dressed for the tourney that would commence in a mere hour. "Princess! There you are!" Color returned to Susannah's face as she finally found Maedora, afraid the Queen would have had her head on a spike for having lost her daughter again.

"My apologies, I was out with my sister," the princess exclaimed while maids immediately swarmed her, pulling her in various directions so they could start prepping her. Three of them busied themselves with her hair which was styled into even more elaborate braids than standard, while two others drenched her face in all sorts of foreign products. Lastly, they assisted her into her gown which was personally selected by the Queen who had decided to order a red dress with intricate flower engravings which were accompanied by a pair of well-fitted silk gloves that corresponded to the red color of the gown.

Maedora sucked in a breath as Susannah tightened the corset, her breathing becoming labored though her attention was aimed at her chest. The narrow corset pushed her breasts up to appear more prominent which made the girl grimace. Despite this, the princess looked at her reflection with an expression of astonishment.

"This gown is truly exquisite," she breathed when her handmaiden finally finished strangling her. The woman behind her nodded in agreement, watching on with a content smile. Tears gathered in Susannah's eyes and once the princess took notice of it she quickly spun with a teasing grin.

"Are you crying, Suzy?" The girl in question scoffed, already wiping her tears before straightening. "Do not kid yourself, princess. There was simply some dust in my eyes," Maedora watched on in silent amusement as she hummed, clearly not convinced.

"But I must admit you have never looked better," Susannah smiled slyly, while the princess turned back to her reflection with her head tilted. "Though no prettier than the stars that are to shine upon us tonight," her handmaiden furrowed her brows. She decided not to dwell on it, simply clutching the gift she had prepared for her friend.

"I have a gift for you," the words enticed Maedora from her daze as her eyes lit up in excitement, watching Susannah move around in the mirror, "it is not much, but I hope you will come to like it." A large smile broke out on the princess' face once she caught sight of the daisies in her friend's hand. "Are you jesting with me? I absolutely love it," the two girls shared wide smiles, their friendship deeply rooted in their hearts. "Could you place them between my braids?" Susannah nodded, carefully putting the flowers in her hair before stepping aside to admire her lifelong friend.

"There shan't be a single man that won't be enchanted by you," their hands interweave as they faced one another, cherishing the precious time they spent together without anyone heaving down their necks. Unfortunately, all nice things came to an end as the door to Maedora's chamber abruptly opened, revealing her younger sister in a pale blue dress.

"Sister!" Rhaenyra smiled widely, her eyes enlarging at the sight of her elder sister in her red gown, "you truly are the fairest lady in all the Seven Kingdoms." It was a known fact across the Realm that Maedora was adored by all of her family members but no one idolized her more than her younger sister. Although she may seem a little odd at times and perhaps even childish Rhaenyra would always look up to her.

"Have you looked at yourself, dear sister?" Maedora grinned, letting go of Susannah's hands before looping her arm into her sister's. Rhaenyra blushed bashfully as she giggled, the two sisters started strolling towards the carriage that was awaiting them downstairs. The halls were vacant of the residents who had most likely already arrived at the stadium where the tourney was to be held.

"Have you gotten your favor?" Rhaenyra questioned, not looking down at the stairs she descended after years upon years of practice. The older princess hummed, pulling a carefully crafted garland with gladioluses intertwined between the leaves. Her younger sister marveled at the detailed handwork. "I must admit sister, your garland looks much more promising than mine."

Maedora smiled softly, looking down at the almost flower-like crown she held before turning back to her sister. "Thank you Rhaenyra, I can only hope it shall bring my knight victory," the younger princess nodded, letting go of her sister's arm to get into their carriage. "I am sure it will, though I suggest your knight should take care for my knight shall fight ferociously," she chuckled which made a grin appear on her sister's face. "We shall see," was the only thing Maedora uttered, her gaze directed at the scenery they passed.

The ride was bumpy, the sounds of the wheels turning against gravel filled the comfortable silence that enveloped the two sisters, both lost in the labyrinths that were their minds. Maedora played with the garland, tracing the delicate flowers she manually placed there herself. Her mind wandered to parts she'd prefer untouched such as the fact that she would know who her betrothed would be by the end of the night.

However, her attention was quickly caught by a bypassing bee that flew past their carriage which began her curious wonder of whether she could ride a bee like she did Cricket. If she was smaller, of course, she couldn't imagine how many bees it would take to carry her weight. Perhaps a thousand bees could form a dragon that-

"Maedora!" The girl looked up, her eyes wide only to realise that they had arrived. "Where has your mind wandered off to?" Rhaenyra chuckled, waiting for her elder sister to leave their vehicle first, as customary. The princess weakly smiled, her mind still floating between the bees as she clambered out of the carriage. Her eyes flitted over towards Ser Erryk and Ser Harrold who stood beside the entrance of the immense building where the royal seats were. She took sluggish steps towards them before a familiar flower graced her sights. Maedora strode right past the knights, Ser Erryk cast a glance at the older knight, who only shrugged before following behind his princess.

"Princess, the tourney is to commence in a few minutes," he reminded her kindly, but she paid him no mind as she lowered herself to the ground, but before her knees could touch the soiled earth she felt someone holding her back. She turned to the knight, eyes wide as he touched her on his own accord for the very first time while he looked apologetic. "Please, princess, do not dirty your dress. Let me place my cloak on the ground, so your gown shall remain clean," Ser Erryk pleaded with her and once he didn't hear any protest from the princess, he released his gentle grip on her to remove his pristine white cloak. The fabric was spread out underneath her, though she couldn't bring herself to look away from the knight.

"You shouldn't have Ser Erryk," her voice was softer than she had intended, though she came to realize that she did not mind. The knight looked down at her, their proximity closer than it should have been, before sending her a remote smile that was almost nonexistent. "It is alright, do not worry yourself," he spoke, motioning for her to sit down, which she did with a bright smile, her eyes sparkling as she looked down at her gloves.

"You are very kind, Ser Erryk," those weren't exactly the words that were often used to describe the man, but he gratefully accepted them with a bow. "Thank you, princess," the girl merely smiled at the sound of his voice, her fingers reaching to grace the petals of the gladiolus flower. The light pink was shades lighter than the radiant red of her silken gloves, but she carefully plucked it before moving to stand with Ser Erryk's assistance.

"This is a Gladiolus, they are quite rare in these regions as they only bloom once per season," she hummed, mindlessly walking towards the stands where her family was awaiting her arrival. The knight nodded thoughtfully, listening to her words with much care. The wooden stairs echoed their synchronized footsteps, Maedora's hand trailing the railway as she twirled the flower in between her fingers.

Ser Erryk remained five steps behind her, as he always did while, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His cloak returned to its rightful place on his shoulders, though grass stained some of the chaste white cloak. The princess took note of it so she could make sure to request her father to hand him a new one, a better one.

The chatter of people filled Maedora's ears as she reached the last step, breathing out a sigh of relief as she didn't exercise as much as she probably should. She quietly walked over to where her mother was seated, who quickly took notice of the princess. Aemma smiled widely at her daughter, admiring the dress with shimmering eyes.

"Maedora," she breathed out with obvious relief. If someone were to ask her whether something was the matter she would have said 'nothing' but frankly she was slightly anxious about whether her eldest daughter would show up as Rhaenyra had arrived at the stand alone. When asked about her sister's whereabouts she merely shrugged, mentioning something of a flower which only worried the Queen as she knew how mesmerised her eldest daughter got by them.

"There are truly no words to your beauty, dear," Aemma smiled, the princess returned the gesture enthusiastically before placing a gentle kiss on her mother's cheek. She turned towards her father who was deep in conversation with his hand Lord Otto Hightower before softly tapping his shoulder.

The King turned towards her with a frown, though it evaporated the moment his eyes laid upon her figure. "My Gods," he gaped, a joyful expression emerged on his face as he gazed at his firstborn child, who seemed to glow in the faint spring sunlight. "You look beautiful," he spoke as if there were no truer words, the princess giggled sweetly and the sound only seemed to broaden Viserys' smile. The girl placed a quick kiss upon his cheek, as she always did, before turning to her father's Hand who looked on in silence.

Lord Otto offered her a small smile once he noticed her gaze landed on him. Her lips quirked into a smile as she greeted the man warmly. "Good morrow Lord Otto," she twirled the flower between her nimble fingers while her father watched on in elation. "Good morrow to you as well, princess. I do hope you are enjoying your sixth and tenth nameday. I must admit that you truly are as beautiful as the Small Folk claim," his praise made the girl smile bashfully, not used to any compliments from the usual solemn man. "Thank you, Lord Otto, that is very considerate of you to say," she sent a final bright smile towards the two men before moving to join her sister while occasionally stopping to receive the congratulations from some Lords who sat on her father's council.

A sigh left her lips as she fell down into the seat beside Alicent's who watched on in amusement along with Rhaenyra. "I hadn't thought you would have made it here," her sister grinned as Maedora sent her a perplexed look, they had arrived together after all. "I would have thought you were chasing butterflies by now," she finished which made the elder princess smile slightly before looking down at the flower in her hands.

"Which one is that?" Alicent's voice was kind as it always was, her tone inquisitive whenever she asked Maedora about flowers. The princess smiled at the girl whose cheeks turned a light shade of pink once she took notice of how close their faces were, "This is a gladiolus, it signifies victory, strength, and integrity. I would gift it to you, but I don't suppose you will be competing in my name." Alicent faintly smiled at the jest, though it quickly fell from her face as she turned to face the arena. She was yet again reminded that she was no man but a mere woman. The princess took no notice of the change in attitude as she admired the flower, not particularly excited for the tournament.

"Be welcome! I know many of you have travelled long leagues to be at these games. But I promise you, you will not be disappointed." The King quickly silenced the mindless chatter of all those who had come. "When I look at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories. And this great day has been made more auspicious by the news that I am happy to share: Princess Maedora shall choose a man to husband!" However, that was only partially true, as Rhaenyra was the one to do the choosing. Nevertheless, it struck a chord with the crowd as they cheered loudly. Their prying eyes averted to the eldest princess who gazed off into the sky, already off on her adventures with her bee companions.

"May the luck of the Seven shine upon all combatants!" Viserys finished before sitting back down with a huff, while two knights entered the arena to commence the jousts. Maedora merely tuned out their grunts of pain and the clashes of swords, squinting to look up into the radiant sky. She tilted her head at the sight of a rather squarish cloud that resembled a lamb in her opinion. She could make out its furry legs along with its short tail- she shook her head, it wasn't a lamb but a skunk. At least an exceptionally short-tailed skunk, but she was convinced as she caught sight of the stripes on its back.

The sight in front of her darkened, the skunk-like cloud hidden behind the figure of her sister, who had moved to stand. Maedora blinked owlishly, turning her head to see what was going on. The knights from before were replaced with two different ones by now, and one of them stood underneath their balcony. Rhaenyra moved towards the edge, a sway in her movements as she said something to the man before throwing her garland over his lance. He had clearly just asked for her favor.

"Who was that?" The question startled Alicent who had assumed the princess to be far gone before collecting her composure. "Oh! It was Ser Harwin of House Strong," the girl quickly clarified. The princess nodded, she was fond of the knight though not in the way her sister was, and virtually wished him good luck. She wasn't too sure whether he'd receive her good fortune, especially not as he took a rather harsh land on his shoulder by the Lannister knight.

"Have you spoken to Gwayne yet? I heard him asking about you earlier this morn," Alicent questioned, a curious lilt to her tone as Maedora shook her head. "I haven't seen him," her reply was chaste as she noticed her cloud had deformed into something else entirely which led her to frown in concentration. The square was more evident in the figure, with something rectangular placed upon it. Maedora's eyes lit up in realisation, her lips quirking upwards as she recognised it to be a cake. Though now she longed to fill her belly with the delicacy.

The princess glanced back at the tourney that was held in her name, Ser Harwin had been named victorious but because of his severe injuries, he wouldn't be able to contest in any more jousts, which dejected her sister visibly. The knight sent Rhaenyra an apologetic glance, though she only grinned at him, concealing her disappointment so as not to hurt the kind knight. "A pity, he would have truly stood a chance at winning this," Alicent remarked, the two sisters nodding in agreement while two new knights entered the arena.

The auburn-haired girl straightened up at the sight of her brother, her face furrowed in concern as the two men rode closer to the stands. Gwayne had taken off his helmet, clearing his voice to ask for the princess' favor, but the knight of House Tyrell beat him to it. "Princess Maedora Targaryen! I was hoping to ask for your favor," the two younger girls turned toward the girl in question, who could only blink in surprise. "Go on!" Rhaenyra laughed as her sister slowly moved towards the railing of the balcony. She looked down to see Gwayne, fury plastered across his face as he glared at a pretty man named Laurel Tyrell.

The knight had luscious brown hair that almost turned into a shimmering golden hue as the sun shined down upon him. His eyes were a deep brown color, warmth radiated from him which quickly garnered Maedora's attention. His armor was beautifully crafted, flowers delicately engraved into the metal, which reminded the princess that his House was known for their beautiful plantation. She offered him a smile, lifting her arm to offer him the garland, before Gwayne suddenly spoke up from where he was seated on a white steed.

"I wish to ask for Princess Maedora's favor as well," her brows raised in surprise while her mouth fell slightly open, she turned to look at her mother as to what to do, but the Queen seemed just as surprised by this as her. She could only offer her daughter an encouraging smile while the King laughed loudly, amused by this whole ordeal, while his Hand rubbed his chin thoughtfully. In truth, Otto had not been anticipating his son to put himself out there like that, as he'd never expressed the desire for it. Notions crawled into his head as he wondered how he'd never thought of them before. He only had to cast a single glance at his son to realise that he was absolutely infatuated with the princess, who seemed to reciprocate the sentiment. His eyes fiercely lit up with a newfound determination, his gaze turning to the eldest princess, praying she'd choose his son over the knight of House Tyrell.

The princess turned back to look at the two knights, who patiently waited for her reply. Gwayne's heart hammered inside of his rib cage, his fingers tightening against the reins of his horse while Laurel seemed to be quite lax. The knight's eyes bore into Maedora, his gaze reminded her of their last escapade together, and she couldn't find it in her heart to betray him in this way. Honestly, she had made up her mind the moment her eyes landed on him and leaned over the railing, placing her garland over Gwayne's lance as whispers erupted throughout the crowd. The knight positively loosened, a charming smile gracing his features as he nodded at his Princess. "Thank you, my Princess. I won't disappoint you," his promise was filled with determination, his father didn't miss the possessiveness in his tone and watched on in satisfaction. Gwayne sent her a final look, his eyes sparkling as if the stars resided there, and Maedora could only nod with a joyous smile.

Laurel seemed to handle the rejection with grace as he smiled at the Targaryen, bowing his head slightly before moving to his position. A sigh left Maedora's lips as she turned to move back to her seat, where both Rhaenyra and Alicent looked at her with surprised eyes. "I was convinced you would have given Ser Tyrell your favor!" Her sister quietly exclaimed, her friend only nodding along. "Have you not known that I have been friends with Gwayne for years now?" Maedora questioned in bewilderment while the two girls looked at each other in surprise. "How could we have not known about this?" The younger princess sighed, leaning back in his seat as she processed the newfound information.

"Did you know about this Alicent?" Rhaenyra wondered aloud. The auburn-haired girl shook her head before hesitantly replying, "No, we are not very close. He rarely speaks of his personal life though I should have seen it coming since he requested your presence earlier this morn," Maedora seemed perplexed as she knew the boy to be restless, recounting her all of his stories while they hid from prying eyes but chose to remain silent. The three girls turned towards the joust, intent on watching what was about to transpire.

Gwayne let out a sigh, lowering his helmet as his sight became restricted. He tightened his hold on his lance, the pressure of winning for his princess weighing heavy on his heart. Especially now as Maedora was searching for a betrothed. He had felt hurt that she hadn't mentioned it to him when they'd met up in the field, having had to find out through his father at dinner the previous night. His eyes had snapped up, his lance nearly falling from his fingers as his brows furrowed. Nobody seemed to notice the shift in his behavior except for his father who internally complained about Rhaenyra making matters more difficult.

Gwayne had restrained himself from asking whether he'd been considered a suitor, wishing to convince the two princesses on his own accord. His father had oftentimes contemplated marrying Gwayne to some Lady of the realm, but the boy managed to hold his father off for years now as he had only ever wished to be with Maedora. Their relationship was difficult to explain, neither fully romantic nor platonic. The invisible line between friends and lovers was carefully walked on, with Gwayne holding himself back from fully jumping into the darkness as he wasn't entirely sure whether Maedora would be there to catch his fall. The girl's mind was a mystery to him, she'd never chased after boys as she remained ignorant to their obvious flirting.

He kicked his heels into his horse, surging forward with determination laced into his features that were hidden from sight. Laurel Tyrell rode his mount confidently, his lance held tightly as his steed galloped towards Gwayne.

Rhaenyra watched on curiously, concluding that this was to be a peculiar joust.

the 30TH © ioaezz, 2024.