#the rogue prince: ft. neera

[the-rogue-dragon]

@qanedanegros Neera sent;

" can you tell me about your adventures? "

🔥FINGERS IDLY TRACED SHAPELESS patterns over smooth skin, absentmindedly the owner of those fingers stared at the roof of his seat at Bloodstone. A cursed place for an unfit King. Despite what many believed in Westeros, the Rogue Prince had never once desired the weight of a crown, yet here at Stepstones he has been crowned King, by his friend and ally Lord Colrys Velaryon. This decision was not just for the Targaryen Prince to control the Stepstones and prevent the Free Cities to lay claim on them, but also for political purposes. Having control of the Stepstones meant getting rid of the pirates, and allowing trade, which favored the Velaryon Fleet.

But the Prince had no interest in ruling, and each day was duller than the previous one. It was perhaps why - as soon as his wife, the bronze bitch, passed -  the King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea, had sent for Neera of Lys. A woman two years younger than him that he had met at the age of twenty when she had first moved to King’s Landing to work on Mysaria’s brothel. Though not a whore, he had spent time with her back in the day, and the two had run into each other ever since. What little remained of his and Mysaria’s partnership had ended after their child died, leaving them to work together - or rather she worked for him as a spy master.

Neera, on the other hand, was a completely different story. Born in Lys, she only knew the tongue of her people when she moved to King’s Landing, which prompted the Prince to always speak to her in High Valyrian, as Lysene tongue was a corrupted version of it, the communication was possible and as fluid as it could be. Curious as the Prince was, he developed an interest for the woman, and invited her to Bloodstone as soon as he became widower. In no time he married her in the tradition of his House, something his brother King Viserys was not informed about, as his relationship with Daemon was still at odds, especially after his exile. Besides he knew that Viserys wouldn’t allow the marriage, given the station of Neera, something the Prince cared very little about.

She was his choice - when he had not been allowed such at the age of sixteen - and he was not going to allow anyone coming in between. Not even his brother, not after the incident with Mysaria. It was a defiant act towards the King of Westeros, but many saw it as a political move, given that Neera was a Lyseni woman. Such union could mean gaining the favor of Lys, but it was unlikely given her family held no power over the Magisters of Lys, so it could be assumed that the Prince had no other interest in her other than genuinely forming a family of his own. Despite this, he did name her his Queen of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea.

As he traced her smooth skin, filled with the scents of her hair, the King of the Narrow Sea hummed as she asked for a story. It could be anything, given what he has been doing - and has done - but he wanted for her to be more specific on what she wanted to hear. Eyes flickered in her direction as she spoke. “I have far too many stories, my sweetling, which one would you like to hear?” He pondered sharing some of his most recent adventures, the war was - after all - still fresh in his mind as it had happened not too long ago. “Would you like to hear about how I won the Stepstones?”

[the-rogue-dragon]

@qanedanegros continues from here;

🔥ONLY THE HOUSE OF THE DRAGON COULD TEAR itself apart and each one of the members were paying for it, on both sides. The rooting ambition for power and the position on the Iron Throne had consumed both sides, destroying the dream of Aegon the Conqueror, and bringing down one of the most powerful families of the realm. The ambition of men like Otto Hightower, was the reason they were currently fighting for what has always belonged to Rhaenyra. Yet the actions of the leech, and the behavior of his grandchildren, had pushed them all against each other, and picking sides and alliances. At first, the unwavering Protector of the Realm - a title given by his niece - had been reckless and restless. However, each passing day, each fall, each death, were wearing down the Rogue Prince - who as exhausted as he was - still tried to show himself strong and ready.

But not just the House of the Dragon was wearing itself down, others too, and because of them. Such was the case of his lover, Neera. He brought her with him from King’s Landing, and build a cottage in Aegon’s Garden, to live with her there in the island of Dragonstone, instead of the castle where the royal family lived, and where he would find himself more oft than not making plans for the war, and leading an army of men who had their own interests besides helping take the throne back. Each night - or as many as he could - the Prince would go back to that cottage in Aegon’s Garden, where he enjoyed the company of his paramour Neera, and was brought hours of a very much needed peace and distractions.

However, such life was exhausting her, keeping her stressful about his life, each day he was away, or each night he would not return. The Prince understood this, but he never once thought that it would end this way, with Neera wanting to leave back to Lys. It was like the same day he lost Mysaria, for Dragonstone seemed cursed for Prince. Even if back then it had been his brother’s orders who sent her away, this time it was Neera’s own decision to leave him. The morning was well past into the afternoon, and he had not shown up to the Painted Table, to provide with any input on the war, all he did was send word to Rhaenyra, and the Black Council, that he would not be present that day, without any explanation.

Standing by a pillar in the middle of their chambers, the Prince’s back was pressed on it as he leaned carefully - as if in an attempt not to disturb the young woman who was pacing around the room, picking her belongings. His voice has not been more than a whisper when he reminded her that she didn’t need to leave. Only silence answered him for a moment, and Daemon thought that she hadn’t heard him, until finally her tongue spoke. Eyes lingered over the granite of the floor, as if there was something interesting over there, even though his eyes were blurry, and he was not focusing his attention there. “Your place it’s here with me.” He offered mutely, as if raising his voice would cause her to leave faster. “I know I cannot ask more of you than I already have… but was not your choice to come with me?” Purple-wine eyes glanced towards her, like a kicked hatchling. “Why must you leave me now?”

[the-rogue-dragon]

@qanedanegros Neera gets a semi plotted starter;

🔥IT WAS A COLD NIGHT ON KING’S LANDING AND Prince Daemon, Commander of the City Watch had all the intention of mobilizing his men that same night. The raids of the Watch were not something the people would learn about beforehand, they were done randomly with the intention of capturing those low lives by surprise. There was no particular event that would require this behavior, except the cleansing of the city, for the vile scum that polluted the streets, making it dangerous to live on. Indeed no high born Lords or Ladies lived among the common folk, but for the Prince this was not enough reason not to protect those who were under his brother’s rule. Even if Lord Hightower saw it differently.

But the Prince cared little for what that cunt said, or saw better for the realm. He knew that this would be helpful for the city, and was one of the reasons the people celebrated him. It did not stroke his ego to be Lord Flea Bottom, as they called him, but it made him feel humble, and actually believed he was doing something good for them. That night, as the lights of the city were ignited, and as the trade market closed its doors, the City Watch was released like a herd of hungry hounds. The men were fast, and would not leave anyone behind, they knew where the scum lived, or were hidden, the common thieves, the rapists, all of them were going to fear the color Gold.

The Prince watched the scene unfold, as the men captured were brought to a circle, screaming, shouting insults, pleading for their lives, begging. It was a pathetic display that he did not approve of. If they were what they were, and did what they did, then there should be some honor, on their doings, yet there was none. Cowards the lot of them, pretending to find indulgence in the Prince and his men. But not the Rogue Dragon or his golden cloaks were prone to forgive or offer leniency to their crimes. Those who were not innocent would pay for their actions, for they had consequences upon the eyes of the Commander, and all those who followed his orders.

As this happened, the men continued to run through the streets, storm into houses, and take the men and women who were guilty of some of these offenses. A group of two saw a young woman trying to escape, and they ran behind her. “Oi girl don’t run! We’re not going to hurt you!” The men called out grinning to each other. Whatever plans they had, it didn’t look like they were trying to protect her, on the contrary, as they were guiding her to a blind alley. By this time the Prince had moved to do his own part of the raid, unaware of what was happening with two of his men.

[the-rogue-dragon]

@qanedanegros Neera gets a semi plotted starter;

🔥A SERIE OF MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARENCES HAS been keeping the police busy for the past weeks. The case had made it to the news, and the people were already claiming for justice, while others were accusing the girls, for being the reason they disappeared. Their jobs as escorts was not well seen for the most conservative people of Westeros, it was disgusting to hear and read their comments on the matter. Of course most of the people screamed for justice and for the girls to be found either way.

Daemon had heard of this case for more than once source, being one of the best private investigators in the city. The police had contacted him days after the first case, when they realized they couldn't do anything on their own. But by then, he has already been contacted by Mysaria, the owner of the business that worked with these girls. Mysaria has been a friend of his for a long while now, and Daemon has been her client in several occasions as well. She had decided to put her assistant Neera in a safe place, and what was better than former cop now turned PI, Daemon Targaryen.

That was how Neera was now in his apartment, at the side of Mysaria who drove to his place to take her, and her belongings. "Are you sure you don't want to stay too?" He asked his friend, but he knew the woman was going to be doing her own job trying to find her girls. Daemon was already inside of the case, so he was working on getting as much information as he could.

[the-rogue-dragon]

🔥“Perhaps the Prince should give children to his wife, not to his… concubine.” The words of the Hand of the King resonated in his ears like drums before a battle. Each word hitting like the sea broke on the rocks, relentless, unstoppable, definitive, uncaring, consuming. The salt of the sea coursed through his wounds, but he would not flinch at it, he would not react to the poisonous words of the Hand. No one would see, no one would notice if he schooled his features. But his tightening jaw betrayed him. His child… his child had died under a storm in the Narrow Sea or those were the news. He couldn’t hold that child in his arms, couldn’t watch them walk for the first time, babble their first word… It angered his mind and made his blood boil.

“Careful, my Prince, we wouldn’t want anything happening to her, don’t we?” The leech taunted - more like a serpent did its prey, a smirk playing on his lips. “What are you talking about, Otto?” The King interrupted, unsure of what was going on between the Hand and his brother. “Prince Daemon’s child with the whore is alive, and in King’s Landing.” He spoke calmly, eyes darting with amusement towards the Prince. A herd of the strongest men of the City Watch would have been needed to stop Daemon in that moment from throwing himself towards the Hand. Yet it only took the presence of the King at his side to stop him from going with what his mind desired. It would be a fitting end, his sword claimed for blood and Daemon wanted nothing but to drown it on his. Yet he did not move, nor did he react to the taunting words.

House Targaryen has always been known for their fire - the fire of their dragons, and their own. There were rumors that said each Targaryen baby was first a dragon that within the womb became more human, and yet the dragon in them was always present. Daemon’s was in his heart, growling loud and clear, burning everything in its path. Yet that day - like the night he learned about his child’s fate in the Narrow Sea - that fire extinguished momentarily.. That night, the Prince drank himself to sleep, and cursed his brother fiercely. This time, however, the fire that always ran hot in his veins became cold like the ice of the North, and so did his dragon. Those who saw him walk past them - after leaving the council room - had seen something shine in his purple eyes. There was no fire this time, it was a dark storm that promised to unleash on all of them.

The Maester who left document of this moment assures on their writing, that when the Prince of the City walked - that night - out of the Keep, a storm from the North devastated the city. Snow was rare on King’s Landing, and if some member of House Stark had been there they would have claimed that winter had arrived. But winter was yet to arrive in the way House Stark has been expecting it. However, no one could deny that a storm of snow fell upon the city, as the Prince strode through the Street of Silk in search for his concubine. Dark Sister pressed at his hip, his hand on his hilt, yet no one dared to cross him, or stop his rage that seemed to match that of the weather.

It was said that the door of the brothel of Lady Mysaria had been kicked open by the wind, and that the candles were out in one breath. That by the door stood a white haired man with purple eyes as dark as the clouds on the sky, and the women screamed frightened at the presence of whom many believed to be a White Walker. But such creatures had not been seen in Westeros in many years, and only the few candles that had survived, illuminated the figure in such a way to scare the girls who did not know better. The brave ones ran to lit up the candles, and the Prince walked inside, with the calculated presence of his own dragon Caraxes, eyeing each and one of the women, until his piercing eyes stopped at one. “You lying cunt.” His words were tight in his teeth as if something stopped him from speaking them. “You sent word to me that my child was gone, that the storm has taken it from you. And yet here I find, not by you, that our child lives, and has been doing so for eight years. EIGHT YEARS!” He spat angrily. “Give me a reason not to cut your throat, or let the Hand do his job.”

[the-rogue-dragon]

@qanedanegros continues from here;

🔥THE NAKED FIGURE OF THE PRINCE was visible as he was not fully covered beneath the blankets. He had not bothered to do so, as his skin was rather warm from their previous activities. Turning on his side, purple eyes glanced over the figure of his companion. She was breathtakingly beautiful in an ethereal way. Some people were more earthy, others were fire, others seemed to flow like water, Neera, however, seemed to float as if she was made of air... perhaps why he felt so at ease with her.

Their situation was by far not ideal, Daemon knew well that he King would rather exile him than to let him marry a girl from a brothel. Yet he would find a way to go through what he wished. Idly fingers reached over her face, tracing figures on her skin as he answered to her question. "I wish to start a family with someone who cares for me as much I care for her." He explained as if that was the most obvious thing someone could desire.

[the-rogue-dragon]

The King and Queen of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea.

The rumors of the time claimed that Prince Daemon, after crowning himself King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea, married a Lyseni woman - Neera - in order to keep his subjects calm and more accepting of his rulership. The truth was far more different.

Neera not just became his wife, but also the mother of four of his children.

@qanedanegros thank you for this incredible / fun / angsty / amazing au we have created. A blessing to write / chat with you and be your friend.

[the-rogue-dragon]

🔥MARRIAGE HAS NEVER BEEN something the young Prince had ever cared for. It has never been on his priorities - as he expected to forge a life of adventures crossing the Narrow Sea, exploring beyond the Wall, or even beyond each continent at the other side of the Shivering Sea. Conquer a land like Aegon has done, and become King himself elsewhere. Even if the responsibilities of it all did not please him. Daemon Targaryen was six and ten, recently knighted and gifted with Dark Sister. He was a dragon, and as such free to roam the skies, yet his grandparents would find a way to latch a chain around his neck and force him down.

They could keep it as quiet as they wished, but in the Red Keep rumors and gossip spread like dragonfire. It did not come as a surprise to him, when he learned his grandmother wanted to force him into a marriage. The same chain that has been put around his brother’s neck - even if he went willingly - would be used for the Rogue Prince. But what Alyssane did not know was that Daemon was not going to settle without a fight. The Vale was on the horizon - so the rumor said - as if the Vale didn’t have enough with a Prince, they needed both. Greedy little cunts, the ladies of the Vale, he thought the day the rumors arrived to his ears.

But to his amusement, the Vale were not the only ones interested in the young Prince. No, from across the Narrow Sea, a young woman was searching for a spouse, and her pompous father had made a show out of it. That was how the Targaryen Prince saw the spectacle from his own chamber’s balcony. Leaving his sword on the table, he decided to wield just his dagger - in case of danger - when leaving towards his grandsire’s balcony. “It seems there is always someone from Essos trying to gain a way into a Prince’s heart.” The Prince spoke without malice as soon as he arrived at the balcony and stood next to the man. An unharmful jab at his grandsire’s past, when Rogar Baratheon had chosen someone from Tryosh to be his wife.

Of course he has been warned of the guests, and the guests’ intentions, and the Prince has been receptive to the idea of meeting this woman - more so when told she had the blood of Valyria. It was not secret that the dragonlords of old would travel to Essos - especially Lys - to marry their women and continue the lineage of the Valyrian blood. The Prince was not too fond of the idea of marriage, but perhaps she would be a good option. Granted, if she was not a spoiled little brat. “It looks a bit desperate on their part.” Daemon mentioned Jaehaerys as they both stood watching the spectacle unfold in the streets. “And starting the tour on King’s Landing? It just shows how much they will push for this. Why did you agree, grandsire?”

[the-rogue-dragon]

🔥A SCOFF ESCAPED HIS LIPS AT HER WORDS, the dragon sitting in his chest raising as his blood became fire, and the rage shone in his purple eyes. The storm of the Rogue Prince was not like that of the Stormlands, it was a volcano like those that ended Valyria too many moons ago. And the doom was yet to repeat itself. A thunder broke the silence as the sea brought from the household of Baratheon the relentless weather that found his day of birth, when Alyssa Targaryen screamed at the top of her lungs as she tried to bring another dragon to the world. This damaged world.

Now, on a similar morning the sky broke Dragonstone in two, and the dragons roared at it, Caraxes particular growl rising in his chest, as the dragon sensed its rider’s pain. But then the calm - as Daemon lowered his head and a smirk curved his lips, another defeat. Sweeter perhaps than those on the battlefield, sweeter and yet deadliest, as if the Tears of Lys had been fed to him in that moment, and they wrapped themselves around his neck, closing around it ever so powerful, until he couldn’t breath. A sword to the chest would have been cruelless, it would have been preferred than this wreckage of a cottage falling around him.

“Had I known how much the whore from Lys had to endure at my side, I wouldn’t have allowed you here.” Words could not hurt enough, not like the fissure that expanded on his already cold heart. But a cold heart was made of ice, and ice was breakable all the same. “I wouldn’t have taken you here, given you a home to warm up. I wouldn’t have asked anything from you, as I clearly give you nothing in return. Perhaps you were better off in King’s Landing at the mercy of the Greens.” That was what she implied, and the Prince did not feel like explaining himself or attempting to change her mind. Let her believe what she needed to put a distance between them, let her return to Lys.

A Targaryen alone in the world was nothing but a terrible thing - and he felt alone fighting in the war of his niece, who cared more about her rightful place than anything. He had believed to have a companion in the shape of Neera, but in the end she couldn’t see what it meant to be next to a man like him. She couldn’t endure it, and he knew then not to blame her for what he had dragged her into. It was not her fault the position she has been in, it has been his, whether he was ready to admit it out loud or not. And clearly he was not. “It is Prince Daemon.” He corrected her softly, reminding her now that she was not talking to him, but to the Prince that he was, and removing from her the right to call him by his first name. The walls as powerful as the one in the North, rose around him as he tried to protect himself from the pain, for he couldn’t allow himself to mourn, not again, he had a war to win.

He had not forgotten who had been next to him, yet little did it matter if he remembered this or not at this point. She would be gone, as little there was for him to do now. The next time his voice filled the room it was steady, cold, and unwavering as if he was talking to the men he guided into battle. “There will be a ship ready at the docks for you, in an hour no less. It will take you back to Lys.” There were more words that he swallowed, that they wouldn’t do any good to say. The Rogue Prince turned on his heels then, in an attempt to leave the chambers, so he could personally make sure that the ship would be ready as soon as possible. But he stood by the door, with his back to her, as he tried to push past the chokehold around his neck. “Each night I returned to this place seeking you out for I knew what I came back to. Each day in the Painted Table I couldn’t wait to get back to you, for the only thing in my mind was the comfort of you. I know of the fear you carry, I understand the exhaustion of it all, believe me, I see it in your eyes each day. But the man that was Daemon..." Not the Prince ."..Could not hold his excitement to go back to his home. You claimed to have lost him each morning, but you didn’t. Now you do.”

[the-rogue-dragon]

🔥HISTORY WAS NOT MEANT TO REPEAT ITSELF but this was something the House of the Dragon has not yet understood. One would have thought that after Maegor, no one would try and take the place of the rightful heir - strong or not - yet here they were. Had Aegon not been crowned by his grandsire, then Rhaenyra would be sitting on the Iron Throne and the realm would be in peace, House Targaryen would be at peace. But peace was never an option for a proud House, where each member clawed at the crown as dragons did over shiny things. An outsider may not understand what it meant, but Daemon knew that it was not just about the throne, but legacy, and for him it was about his brother. So of course he was involved, this was not just about Rhaenyra.

Despite it all, just now he has been realizing how terribly wrong this war has been, even when he has done his fair share of terrible things in the favor of the Blacks. Things he would do again if he had to, to secure his brother’s legacy to continue by ensuring his heir would take the throne as she was meant to do. His quarrel was not against Aegon, or Aemond, or Helaena, nor was it against Daeron and Alicent, but Otto Hightower himself, the reason they stood now like this, tearing each other apart, piece by piece, son by son, blood by blood. Both sides destroyed what Aegon the Conqueror built, and thus darkened the memory of his brother.

But his immense duty to his brother and niece, his devotion to them, could not be understood by an outsider, and this was proven by Neera. She didn’t see the reason for his fight, of his constant plotting and planning, or the reunions at the Painted Table. For her - so it seemed - all this just kept Daemon away from her - selfishly. The Prince contemplated this, as he quietly glanced her way, as Neera continued to set aside her belongings, trying to erase herself from the cottage he had built for the two of them. If she left - an intrusive thought appeared - he would burn the whole place down, to erase any memory of her presence on the island.

Such thoughts vanished as she spoke, and his eyes avoided her once more. Hands turned into fists as he tried to control the urge to remind her that he was all of them, that his titles were him, and that he was his titles, but both of them knew different. He was his title at court, but in her bed, in her arms, he was just simply Daemon. A man who had little to offer as he did not own lands, just a name and coin, and a dragon to take her for a flight. He was a second born son, he had nothing except his titles. No crown, no position. “The same man that comes to your arms each night, the same man who wakes up in your arms each morning.” Could it be that she had forgotten? could it be that at the end of the day she didn’t know him?

A dragon was quick to anger when hurt, and this one was no different, as he turned around in her direction, he snapped. “So you came here for you and no one else, it’s what you’re saying?!” A growl abandoned him, a rumble from the insides of his chest, where his dragon resided. “To keep your worries at bay, and play house with me? This is a war Neera! This is not a playground, where we can pretend and be happy. My entire House is falling apart, my family is falling apart and all you care about it’s that what little I can do it’s keep me away from you?!” Rage blinded him as all he could see was fire in that moment, his own blood boiling, and yet he wouldn’t hurt her, not physically at least, for he was not that kind of man, he would never be, no matter how stressed or out of control he was.

“We’re not losing each other! At least I don’t see it that way, you are losing the veil that blinded you for the reality around us, you’re seeing what I see each fucking day I stay here!” And she has been the only lifeguard in this storm, yet she was swimming away from it all, leaving him stranded as if he meant nothing. “You’re tired, you’re stressed… What about me then? I lost my brother, I lost my entire fucking family to the ambitions of a cunt! And you rub in my face your desire to go away because you cannot stand what little I try to do to preserve something of this family… anything.” His voice breaking as emotions gathered around his throat, choking him.

[the-rogue-dragon]

🔥EVEN WHEN HIS APARTMENT WAS NOT BIG ENOUGH for more than one person, he couldn't find in himself to deny Mysaria's idea of having Neera staying at his place. It would not be for long - he guessed - only for as long as the case continued, and he was certain that they would find the person behind these disappearances rather quickly. The police had him in the case, and he was the best in the area, there wouldn't be any resting until he found this criminal and the lives of these girls could carry on without having to live in fear.

"I know it's not big enough for three, but it's all I can offer." He knew already that Neera was going to be taking his bedroom - since there was no guest bedroom - he also knew he was going to take the couch in the office, for the rare occasions when he felt like sleeping. "You need to stay out of this case. I know you worry, but the best you can do now, it's to support the other girls, and try to keep the business closed, as much as it's possible." Money could become a problem now that they wouldn't be working, and income would not be going their way. "I will talk to my brother... see if I can get a loan from the enterprise and help you and your girls."

Mysaria knew that when Daemon suggested talking to Viserys it was serious, given that the brothers have not been on speaking terms for a while now. "And you don't need to pay me at all. We will manage here, I'm sure." He gave a short nod to Neera, as she looked around. "She's a guest, and under my protection, the last thing I will ever do is to charge you for this." And he didn't even need to charge her for his services either since the police would take care of his fee.

Once Mysaria was gone - after saying goodbye to Neera - Daemon locked the door behind her and turned around to face his guest for the foreseeable future. "Come, I will show you around. There is no guest room, so you will be taking mine, and I will stay in the couch of the office." Which has been the room she had already seen. Taking her to the bottom right he opened the door. "Your new bedroom. Here you've access to the bathroom, and at the end of the hallway there is the kitchen." He explained. "I made room in the closet for your clothes. If there is anything you need, you can ask me for it."