#rhaenyra targaryen fanfic

[hllywdwhre]

Dreamer, Queen, Prince - Chapter 6

Pairing: Daemyra x fem!OC

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

Masterlist

The next week was spent helping everybody leave the islands. Viserea watched as the last of the ships sailed away with the last of the Velaryon men on board. She felt Daemon’s hand rest on the small of her back and she looked up at him, unable to stop the smile that spread on her face as she saw him already looking down at her.

The two would spend the next year wherever they pleased. Daemon had promised to bring her to Essos to see the cities she had yet to visit and Viserea promised to show him Winterfell. She had warned him of the cold and snow, but he insisted on wanting to see it.

Daemon showed her all of the different cities he had visited before, spending weeks in a city at a time in each one. They showered each other in gifts and the attention they had never been able to show each other before. Letters were constantly exchanged with Rhaenyra and they both had a collection of gifts for her sent to Dragonstone.

Viserea had just finished reading one of Rhaenyra’s letters of her complaining of the men offering themselves to her on their last night in Pentos. They had spent almost two months there and were leaving for Winterfell in the morning where Viserea’s family had said they would gladly host the two of them and their dragons for as long as they wished to stay.

“She sounds miserable. I wish there was some way to help her or be there with her,” Viserea said, saddened at the entire situation. She wanted for Rhaenyra to be there with her and Daemon, for them to be able to explore the free cities together, for them to not have to go through the struggles they had to face in order to be together.

“Is my company not enough to entertain you?” Daemon asked, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her. He placed a kiss on her cheek as he looked over the letter in Viserea’s hands. Viserea chuckled at his teasing comment,

“No, it is not. I need you and Rhaenyra to keep me completely entertained,” Viserea told him with a playful smile on her face, turning her head to look up at him.

“You shall have us both in a matter of time. I will make sure of it.”

Viserea knew his words were true. Daemon would go to the ends of the earth to make sure the three of them ended up together and would let nothing stand in his way.

Viserea wrote Rhaenyra a response, asking where she would be heading next and telling her that she and Daemon would be visiting Winterfell for a few weeks. Only after the letter was sent did she allow for Daemon to pull her to their bed.

The flight to Winterfell took two days, and it was dusk when they had landed outside of the gates. Rickon welcomed them both as family and informed them that strict orders had been given not to communicate to anyone outside of Winterfell that the two were visiting.

The two only spent a fortnight in Winterfell before a letter from Rhaenyra arrived.

“She’s leaving Storm’s End and finishing the tour,” Viserea said, shock clear in her voice, “She said she’ll be returning to King’s Landing in three days time.” Viserea turned her attention to Daemon, her hands shaking slightly as they held the letter.

They were stood in the main courtyard, only joined by Rickon and his son, Cregan. Cregan was practicing his archery with Rickon’s guidance and Daemon and Viserea stood a couple paces back.

Daemon gently took the letter from Viserea, reading over it multiple times,

“We must leave for Dragonstone immediately if we are to return to King’s Landing the same day as Rhaenyra,” Daemon said, a slight sense of urgency in his voice.

“And the dragon and the dire wolf will be joined in marriage again,” Rickon said, interrupting the two with a smile on his face.

“As the fates would have it,” Viserea replied and returned his smile.

Rickon gave both of them a hug, bidding them farewell and sending them both away with a set of warm furs and an extra set for Rhaenyra.

The departure happened in a blur and the two took off on dragonback, flying through the night until they reached Dragonstone.

Amarda was the first to greet Daemon and Viserys as they pushed through the doors of the ancient castle. Viserea threw herself into Amarda’s arms, having missed her greatly.

“So the rumors are true,” Amarda said as the two pulled away.

“What is being said?” Daemon questioned immediately, protectiveness in his tone.

“That the two Princesses are separate and that Princess Viserea had joined you in the Stepstones, only to travel with you once the war was won,” Amarda answered. Her tone was not accusing or disapproving and it was surprisingly gentle.

“Then the talk is true, for once,” Daemon confirmed.

“We are here to be wed,” Viserea said at the same time, feeling the look of unease Daemon gave her.

Viserea knew Amarda would not be the one to cast stones at them and she was proven right when Amarda smiled,

“And what of Princess Rhaenyra?” Amarda asked, an eyebrow raising out of curiosity.

Daemon and Viserea exchanged a glance, unsure how to answer her question.

“I see…” she said knowingly, “Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys will be reunited eventually. The histories can repeat themselves, but that does not mean they will carry the same details.”

“She will be wed to us,” Viserea said firmly.

“But for now, Maester Gerardys is needed to wed the two of you,” Amarda said, turning her back and guiding Viserea and Daemon to the library, where they were met with Maester Gerardys’ figure bent over a table as he studied a large book.

He looked up as the three entered and immediately stepped in front of the table, bowing slightly as he greeted the two of them,

“My Prince, my Princess, your return to Dragstone is a welcome surprise. How can I be of service to you?” He asked, looking between the two.

“We wish to be wed in the traditions of Old Valyria,” Daemon replied and the two of them watched as the Maester’s face turned to shock.

“We need it to be completed today, as we must depart for King’s Landing as soon as the sun rises,” Viserea said after Daemon.

“What of the King’s blessing?” Maester Gerardys asked, clearly taken aback by the sudden turn of events.

“It is not needed for a wedding of Old Valyria,” Viserea said, her voice firm and final.

“You misunderstand me, Princess. I will perform the ceremony as I’m sure Amarda will witness it, you must understand my confusion though,” he replied, a small smile on his face as he tried to show he was not arguing with performing the ceremony.

“I do, but this must be performed with the utmost quickness. Daemon and I need to be wed,” Viserea said, taking a step towards Maester Gerardys and gently taking one of her hands in his, “You are the only one who can perform the ceremony. Do us this, please?” She asked him in a quiet voice.

Maester Gerardys smiled a moment later and nodded,

“Of course, Princess. You and the Prince shall be wed today,” he said, causing a wide smile to break upon Viserea’s face.

A moment later Viserea and Daemon were pulled by various help to separate chambers. They were bathed, dressed in the Valyrian gowns, and Viserea’s hair was now in a low placed and intricate braid. They both wore the traditional headpieces of a Valryian wedding and being walked to a cliff side, their hands intertwined together.

Viserea barely felt the slice of the dragonglass against her lip, or heard the words of Maester Gerardys. Her’s and Daemon’s attention seemed to only be on each other as his thumb gently marked her forehead with a symbol in her own blood. She took the dragonglass from Daemon and sliced his own lip, marking his forehead with a symbol. Each took turns slicing a line down their palms, then joining their hands together.

“Hen lantoti nogar. Va syndroti vãedroma. Mēro perzot gihoti. Elēdroma iārza sir. Izult ampã perzi. Prumi lanti steksi. Hen jeny mäzilarion. Qélossa ozúndesi. Syndroro oño jedo. Ry kivia mazvestraksi.” Maester Gerardys’ words seemed to float in the air around them.

Daemon reached for the goblet with his free hand and raised it to his lips before Viserea took the goblet and did the same.

There was no hesitancy as Daemon leaned down to kiss Viserea. She felt their blood mix and felt no sting of the wound on her lip as the kiss grew deeper. Their sliced palms remained firmly in each other’s and the two only pulled away when a gust of sea breeze blew past them and they remembered they were not the only two standing on the cliff side.

The two, now married, spent the rest of the day enjoying the place they felt was their true home. That night, they were quick to finally unleash the tensions they had felt since the night on the Stepstones. This time, there was no stopping as Daemon’s hands pulled the fabric off of Viserea’s body.

When the two awoke the next morning, they found themselves entangled again under the cover of the sheets.

As the sun rose over the eastern horizon, they made their way to their dragons and took flight to King’s Landing. Daemon wore the crown gifted to him by Corlys as he was named King of the Stepstones, a fact which Daemon reminded Viserea of and pointed out that it meant she was now the Queen of the Stepstones.

When they flew over the water nearing King’s Landing, they spotted the ship carrying Rhaenyra and, much to Viserea’s dismay, Daemon guided Caraxes down and flew dangerously close to the ship, causing it to rock. Viserea kept a safe distance as the ship steadied and followed Daemon and Caraxes on Tessarion to the pit.

The arrival of both the Princesses and the Prince had sent King’s Landing into a frenzy, though Daemon and Viserea received a warm welcome at the dragonpit with many of the caretakers commenting on how happy the town dragons seemed to be currently.

Daemon and Viserea made their way the Keep, both of them ignoring the many whispers as they walked through the castle and the Throne Room.

Neither of them received any announcement of their presence as they walked through the door. Daemon had Dark Sister sheathed at his left side and his left hand held the Crabfeer’s hammer, the crown Corlys made for him still sitting on his head. Viserea walked to his right and when she went to fall a step behind him, his hand came to her back and made sure she stayed in step with him.

Viserea’s eyes flickered to Rhaenyra for the briefest of seconds, just long enough for Rhaenyra to know she had seen her.

When they approached the foot of the Iron Throne, swords were drawn, though this did not stop Daemon as he walked until the point of one was placed against the armor across his chest. His right hand remained on the small of Viserea’s back, though none of the guard dared point a blade to her.

“Add it to the chair,” Daemon said, holding up the hammer for a moment before letting it clatter to the floor.

A member of the Kingsgaurd picked up the hammer and placed his sword back by his side while Daemon’s hands moved so they were crossed in front of him. Viserea kept her head high and her hands by her side, looking every bit as regal as Daemon did relaxed.

“You wear a crown,” Viserys pointed out, “Do you also call yourself “King”?”

“Once we smashed the triarchy, they named me “King of the Narrow Sea”, with Viserea becoming “Queen of the Narrow Sea” yesterday,” Daemon said, causing the crowd to break into a murmur. Before Viserys could respond though, Daemon continued, “But we know there is only one true king and queen, Your Grace.”

Viserea copied Daemon as he knelt before Viserys, looking up at Viserys when Daemon spoke again while removing the crown from his head.

“My crown and the stepstones… are yours.”

“Well, where is Lord Corlys?” Viserys asked, though his voice held only a fraction of the strength it had held when they first walked through the doors.

“He sailed home to Driftmark,” Viserea replied.

“Who holds the Stepstones?”

“The tides, the crabs, and the 2,000 dead Triarchy corsairs, staked to the sand to warn those who might follow,” Daemon answered.

Viserea felt her breath hitch in her throat as Viserys descended the stairs of the Iron Throne and approached them, but she nor Daemon flinched as they looked up at him. Daemon offered. Viserys his crown and Viserea saw Daemno look to their side, her gaze following to land on Otto.

When Viserys handed the crown to the same member of the Kingsgaurd who picked up the Crabfeeder’s hammer and Viserea and Daemon both looked up at Viserys.

He could have their heads in a second. Viserea’s final words to Viserys the year previous was more than enough of a reason to kill her, and Daemon had a long list of reasons the King could kill him.

“Rise,” Viserys said, his voice low and gravely.

Both stood at the same time and Viserea felt relief wash over her as Viserys and Daemon hugged, only to be pulled into a hug by Viserys herself a moment later.

“The realm owes you a great debt, brother,” Viserys said as he released Viserea.

“One that is owed to Viserea as well,” Daemon said, causing Viserys to look towards her and nod.

“Come, both of you,” he said, guiding them both out of the Throne Room and to the Courtyard.

Before the space became crowded, Viserys stood in front of the two of them. His eyes flashed to the cuts on their lips, still fresh and a bright red, incapable of being hidden.

“As of yesterday, Viserea was made your Queen,” Viserys said, quoting Daemon’s earlier words as his eyes moving to stare at Daemon, his voice impassive as he waited on an explanation of some sort.

“Yes. We were wed in the traditions of our ancestors-“

“And what about your lady wife in the Vale?” Viserys interrupted, the anger beginning to seep into his voice.

“She died two weeks ago. I received the raven. She fell ill and the fever did not leave her,” Daemon explained.

“So you wed my daughter a fortnight later?” Viserys accused.

“It was my idea,” Viserea said, her voice seeming to remind Viserys that she was still there, “I apologize for not seeking your blessing, but it is what we both wanted.”

Viserys looked between the two for a long minute and, upon seeing that Viserea remained confident in her words, took them as the truth and sighed.

“I told you and Rhaenyra you could pick your own husbands. I apologize for not allowing you to accept Harwin Strong’s proposal, but I suppose I gave my blessing when I said you could choose your own husband,” he said, clearly not wanting to start another argument that ended with his family separated again.

“Thank you. Although not in the traditional order, your blessing is still a relief and honor to have,” Viserea replied.

As the two brothers began speaking of their childhoods, Viserea tuned them out, her eyes searching for Rhaenyra as each new person entered the courtyard. Alicent soon came to join them and the two exchanged enough words to be seen as civil and polite, but Daemon’s hand came to rest on the small of Viserea’s back and he pulled Viserea slightly closer to him.

Rhaenyra joined them at the end of a conversation about how Alyssa held no interest in tradition or customs and Rhaenyra chimed in,

“Congratulations on your victory, and on your marriage,” she said, smiling at them both.

When Viserys refused to look at Rhaenyra and only raised his goblet to his lips, Daemon spoke,

“Thank you, Princess.”

A long moment of silence followed that was broken by Alicent, offering to take Viserea and Daemon on a tour of the gallery to show them the new tapestries gifted by Norvos and Qohor. No matter her distaste for Alicent, Viserea felt sorry for her when her kind offer was made a joke of by Viserys as he laughed at the idea of Daemon having interest in them.

“I’d like to see them,” Rhaenyra said, her previous smile vanishing.

“Oh, well, then you should not deprive yourself,” Viserys said dismissively, causing Viserea’s anger to spike, though she kept her face blank.

“I shall enjoy them alone,” Rhaenyra replied, turning and walking away.

Daemon, Viserea, and Alicent’s eyes all followed her as she walked to a bench in the corner of the courtyard and Viserys began insisting that Daemon was always Alyssa’s favorite.

Alicent motioned for Viserea to follow as they both walked to Rhaenyra. Viserea allowed Alicent the seat next to Rhaenyra,

“I surmise the tour did not go well,” Alicent started.

“I endured it for as long as I could,” Rhaenyra said, glancing to Viserea as a small smile forced its way onto Viserea’s face as she remembered the many letters filled with Rhaenyra’s complaints.

“To have every young knight and lord in the Seven Kingdoms fawning over you…” Alicent started, looking to Rhaenyra with a joking smile on her face, “What misery.” Rhaenyra looked up to Alicent and Alicent continued on, “It is rare for girls in this realm to get a choice between two suitors, no less two score of them.”

“Those men and boys don’t fawn over me. They only want my name and my Valyrian blood for their offspring,” Rhaenyra argued.

“I think it’s rather romantic,” Alicent said, scooting closer to Rhaenyra and the two chuckled.

“How romantic it must be to get imprisoned in a castle and made to squeeze out heirs.”

Viserea could see it the moment the words left Rhaenyra’s mouth. She immediately regretted them and Alicent’s face fell, her lip trembling slightly. It was a harsh reminder that, while the two had felt betrayed by Alicent, Rhaenyra more so than Viserea, that Alicent had not had much of a choice in her marriage to Viserys either. She had the choice to go to him in his chambers the first night and to keep their visits a secret, but rejecting the King’s proposal could not be done. She was as much trapped in duty as they were, especially now.

Rhaenyra took Alicent’s hand in her own and Viserea didn’t stop herself as she moved to stand directly beside Alicent and place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“How angry is he?” Rhaenyra asked.

“The King went through great effort to arrange your tour. He is… frustrated. But I am glad you are home… both of you,” she said, throwing a glance to both Rhaenyra and Viserea as her voice filled with emotion and she dropped her head a moment later. “I find I have few friends lately. I like to believe I’m still the Lady Alicent, but… all anyone sees when they look at me now is “‘The Queen.’” She said with a sarcastic smile on her face.

Viserea gently squeezed Alicent’s shoulder and she couldn’t deny the empathy she felt for her. Although she and Viserea may not have been the great friends she and Rhaenyra had been, Alicent had still been someone Viserea viewed as someone who she could go to. This was not a thought Alicent could express to Viserys or Otto. Viserea and Rhaenyra had felt alone the past few years, but they had at least had each other. Alicent had been truly alone.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Rhaenyra said, taking Alicent’s hand in her own again as the two exchanged an emotional smile.

After a moment of silence, Alicent looked up at Viserea,

“Do tell us of your year spent with Daemon and the wedding. I was shocked when I heard Daemon say you were Queen of the Stepstones,” Alicent said, smiling up at her.

Viserea began explaining their time they had spent traveling, changing around some details to avoid revealing that most of it was planned so that she, Daemon, and Rhaenyra might be together one day. Viserea told Alicent of how she had visited many different places and how Daemon had met her family in Winterfell, and of how they had only been wed the day prior. She made it seem to be a coincidence that they arrived back the same day as Rhaenyra, telling Alicent that Viserea had convinced Daemon to go to Viserys and apologize and that now that she and him were married, it would hopefully mean Viserys would be more forgiving. She told Alicent that it had been Daemon’s idea to hand his crown over to Viserys, which it had been.

One by one, the courtyard cleared and Alicent eventually left with Viserys, leaving only Daemon, Rhaenyra, and Viserea in the courtyard.

“The two of you have traveled much in the last year,” Rhaenyra said, a slight tinge of jealousy clear in her voice.

“It was not the same without you,” Viserea said, the longing in her voice matching Rhaenyra’s jealousy.

“Soon, little dragons. Nothing will stop us,” Daemon promised, his hand going to pick up the necklace he had gifted Rhaenyra years ago. “For now, I crave the comforts of home.”

“I had not thought the two of you to be particularly comfortable in this home. Though I do suppose you seem changed by your adventures,” Rhaenyra said as she and Viserea followed Daemon to the table lined with food and drinks, “More mature, perhaps,” she added a moment later.

“I was surprised by the Princesses maturity a year ago, and you seem to have matured yourself the past four years, Princess. You’ll get used to the attention,” he promised, bring a smile to Rhaenyra’s face as she looked away from Viserea and Daemon’s gaze on her.

“The attention I can endure. It’s the rest I could do without,” Rhaenyra pointed out, looking between the both of them as she spoke, “My father seems content to sell me off to whichever lord has the biggest castle.”

“We will not let that happen,” Viserea said, luckily her words being covered by Daemon’s own response as there were still a few handmaidens standing outside beginning to clean up.

“There are worse things to be sold for,” Daemon covered, his hand on Viserea’s back as he guided them to sit on the bench on the opposite side of the table.

“He views marriage as only a political arrangement,” Viserea said, looking up at Rhaenyra as she leaned against the table.

“Once you are married, you can do as you like,” Daemon added. Rhaenyra and Viserea exchanged glances, knowing that it was the way it was for men, but never for women.

“For men marriage might be a political arrangement, but for women it can be a death sentence,” Rhaenyra argued.

“Would this it were, I would have been rid of my Bronze Bitch ages before I was.” Daemon offered Rhaenyra the goblet he was holding, which she accepted as she replied.

“Your wife was fortunate. Your new wife more so. You didn’t put a child in her, and if you do this one, it will be one you both want.”

Viserea could not stop the blush that rose to her cheeks at the mention of Daemon and Viserea’s child being one they would want, even if the conversation was far from a romantic one. Daemon looked at Viserea with a smirk on his face, taking her hand in his.

“I doubt a child could grow in such hostile environs. Something my new wife will not have an issue with,” Daemon said, causing both Rhaenyra and Viserea to let out short laughs at his insult, though neither laughs were their true ones.

Both Rhaenyra and Viserea still felt terrified at the idea of having children, as it was what caused the death of both of their mothers.

“My mother was made to produce heirs until it killed her. I will not subject myself to the same fate, and I hope she does not meet the same fate as her mother,” Rhaenyra said, motioning to Viserea.

Daemon reached for Viserea’s hand, holding it in a tight yet unpainful grip.

“What happened to both of your mother’s was a tragedy, but this is a tragic world. You cannot live your lives in fear, or you will forsake the best parts of it,” he said, his eyes trained on Rhaenyra as his thumb ran along Viserea’s hand.

“I have no desire to live in fear,” Rhaenyra said firmly, her eyebrows furrowed together, “Only solitude until I can have the two I want.”

Viserea stood, Daemon’s grip on her hand falling, and hugged Rhaenyra to her. To anyone else, it would look as if the two cousins were simply happy to be together again. They didn’t hear as Viserea whispered Valyrian words of promises they would be together and that nothing would stop them.

Once Viserea had sat back beside Daemon again, he spoke,

“Such a lonely prospect. One you should not endure for long.”

#rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #rhaenyra x daemon #rhaenyra x y/n #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targeryan #queen rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon x y/n #daemon x you #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #daemyra #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #daemyra x oc #daemyra x reader

[aemondsbabe]

Arbor Gold

summary: sharing a drink & toys || rhaenyra treats you to a very special night out

pairing: modern!rhaenyra x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, wlw, public, fingering, use of a toy, vibrators, mentions of alcohol, mommy kink, sub!reader, allusions to oral, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 1.9k

a/n: happy day three of 12 days of smuff!! i was sweating writing this one, i can't lie lmao

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @gameofthronesdaily!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Oh, that’s perfect,” Rhaenyra says to the waiter, watching with a smile as he finishes pouring two glasses of wine with a fancy flourish before setting the bottle on the table, “Thank you.” 

With a polite nod, the waiter takes his leave, leaving you and your girlfriend alone once more. Your eyes scan the room once again, taking in the fancy dark wood paneling on the walls and the way the vintage crystal chandeliers sparkled as they cast a low, moody light over the room; the soft instrumental music coupled with the dull hum of other couples and groups of friends sharing quiet conversations comforted you despite the circumstances. 

Finally, you let your eyes sweep over Rhaenyra and your lips instantly curved into a soft, sweet smile as you took her in, watching as she took a sip of the decadent Arbor Gold wine. This whole little adventure had been her idea – something fun and new to do, she’d said. 

And she doesn’t disappoint, you think with a slight shiver as you shift a bit in the plush booth, the small vibrator she’d taken oh-so much care to work into you earlier presses deliciously against that small, sensitive patch within you. 

“Everything alright, sweetling?” Rhaenyra asks, finally catching your eyes from where you’d been absentmindedly staring at the flickering tea candle on the table. 

You smile and take her hand as she presses in closer to you, your bare shoulders nearly touching. You can’t help but admire her dress, a mirror copy of yours in every way aside from the color – the dark, blood red silk contrasts so beautifully against her soft, pale skin while the dim lights of the small bar dance off of the black silk of your own dress in smooth, pearlescent waves. 

“I’m fine, Nyra,” you can’t help but reassure her with a soft smile as you poke your tongue out to wet your lips before pressing a gentle kiss to the back of her hand, “Just wondering when exactly you plan to start the show.” You tease, nodding to her phone. 

“Now where would the fun be in revealing all my tricks?” She gives as good as she gets, her eyes gleaming as she looks you over appreciatively. She takes another sip of the wine, taking the time to swirl it around in her glass before delicately pressing her lips to the rim. You can’t help but bite your lip as she closes her eyes with a pleased hum. “Have you had any of yours yet? You really need to try it, my love, it’s absolutely decadent.”

You reach across the table and grab your glass, swirling the pale yellow-gold liquid around in the same way Rhaenyra did before taking a sip, sighing happily as you taste all manner of sweet, fruity notes. 

You go to look at her with raised brows, about to compliment the expensive vintage as well, when she discreetly taps the screen of her phone. You only manage to get a soft, barely there squeak out as the vibrator comes to life inside you and buzzes softly against the most tender spot within you before Rhaenyra quickly leans over and presses her lips against yours, muffling the noise. 

You sigh gratefully against her lips as your eyes flutter shut, one of your hands squeezes at her thigh, and you’re grateful that each table is adorned with a long tablecloth as your hips seem to buck up by themselves for a second. 

She pulls away after a moment, once she can sense that you’ve calmed down some, and fixes you with a pleased grin before pressing one last, soft kiss against your shoulder. “That good already?” She teases, lifting her glass to her lips to take another sip of wine, “And to think, we’re only on the first level.”

You shiver, knuckles white as your fingers dig into the dark fabric of your dress, your hands pressed tightly against the tops of your thighs as you try and keep your hips still as Rhaenyra taps her phone screen, giggling as she turns the vibrations up a level. 

Your skin is flushed, though you aren’t sure if it’s from the wine or from the incessant vibrations within you. You throw Rhaenyra another helpless glance, your fingers digging into her plush thigh as a warning that your peak is approaching. 

She merely huffs out a soft laugh next to you and reaches out to tuck a lock of your hair back behind your ear before cupping your cheek, her pale eyes dancing over your face as she admires the blush that’s bloomed across your skin. 

“Oh, pretty little thing,” she coos softly, smirking when she notices your lower lip trembling as you desperately try and bite back the moans threatening to spill from your lips, “Are you getting closer, my love?”

You nod as your walls clench desperately around the toy, the movement only serving to press it even more firmly against your sweet spot. You bite down on your bottom lip, your nails no doubt leaving small crescent moon marks against Rhaenyra’s delicate skin, as you try to control your breathing. 

Just as you’re about to whisper that you can’t take much more, the waiter reappears, walking up to your table with a polite smile. You nearly cry as Rhaenyra quickly turns off the toy, although you can’t say whether it’s from relief or frustration from being so, so close. 

“Is everything to your liking, ladies?” He asks, his gaze lingering on you for a second as he looks between the two of you.

“Everything is perfect.” Rhaenyra answers with a cool smile, casually taking a sip of wine. 

“Wonderful, and is there anything else I can do for you all this evening?”

“I think we’re good over here,” she says, smirking as she spares you a glance, “Just bring the check when you get a moment, please. No rush, though.”

“Of course, ma’am.” The waiter says with a polite nod before taking his leave. 

As soon as he’s gone, Rhaenyra presses herself close to you and you almost whine when you feel her breasts press against the side of your arm, her nipples hard and aching against the thin fabric of her dress. A chill goes through you at the realization that she’s enjoying this just as much as you are. 

“That was going to be a big one, wasn’t it, sweetling?” She murmurs softly, one of her warm hands skimming across your bare thigh as she tucks it under your dress. 

“Nyra, please,” you all but gasp, trembling next to her as your center aches, your walls squeezing helplessly at the toy, “Please…” You’re not even really sure what you’re asking for as you beg, your mind covered in a thick fog. 

“Mmm,” she sighs, relishing the way you squirm in her hold as she skirts her hand higher and higher up your thigh, until the edge of her fingers are just barely pressing against the center of your thin lace underwear, “I don’t think it’s Nyra tonight, my little darling.” She says with a soft shake of her head, a few strands of her silvery hair falling beautifully against her cleavage. 

“Mommy,” you correct yourself with a choked whimper, eyes glassy as you peer up at her, “Please, please.” 

“Please what?” She asks, the condescending edge to her voice making your head spin, “Please take you home? Please make you come?” She prompts, eyebrows raised slightly as she smirks. 

“I –,” you choke out, nearly jumping out of your skin when she turns the vibrator back on, not bothering to ease you into it as it buzzes away at a high speed, “F-Fuck.” You hiss, your body already tensing as the knot in your belly winds itself up at an alarming rate. 

“I think you want to come,” she says lowly, nodding her own head as if to answer the question for you, “Luckily for you, mommy’s in such a giving mood tonight.” She studies your face carefully as she pushes your underwear to the side, her eyes positively sparkling once she feels how wet you are. 

You bite your lip harshly, nearly drawing blood, as she begins rubbing circles over your aching bud, not bothering to warm you up as she normally does as her soft fingers press harshly against you. Your head spins as she works you up and up and up, your high building at nearly the same pace as the vibrations within you as she slowly increases the speed of the toy. 

Before you’ve even had a chance to process the sensations flowing through your body, your head snaps to her and your eyes are wide as you look at her desperately, soft squeaks sounding from your throat. She merely looks at you expectantly – she may be in a giving mood but that didn’t mean she had to make the getting easy. 

“M–,” You barely choke out the first syllable before your eyes squeeze shut, your core already starting to flutter around the small toy, “M-Mommy, mommy!” You urgently whisper, finally finding your voice before gritting your teeth, your breath catching in your throat just as you feel the very beginnings of a familiar tightening overtaking your belly. 

“Let mommy have it, sweetling,” Rhaenyra coos, not stopping the movements of her fingers as she feels your bud twitch against her fingers. She murmurs soft praises into your ear as your high washes over you, talking you through it as your hips squirm against the lush fabric of the booth. “That’s a very good girl. Is that such a big one, darling? You did so, so good for me, sweetling.”

Her soft praises nearly send you over the edge again, but thankfully she decides to spare you and turns off the vibrator before slowly extracting her hand from your underwear, taking a second to make sure to move them back into place for you, the small gesture making your heart skip a beat. 

She laughs softly next to you, the sound making you open your eyes and you nearly moan at the sight of her dipping a finger, still shining from where she’d touched you, into the half-full cup of wine in front of her. She takes a second to swirl it around before bringing it to her lips, her eyes gleaming as she sucks at the digit; the sight alone is enough to make your tender walls clamp down on the toy but the small, satisfied moan she makes just about sends you spiraling over the edge yet again. 

“That’s definitely my new favorite pairing.” She teases, smirking at the wide-eyed look on your face. 

“Nyra!” You laugh, your heart racing in your chest as you feel the butterflies in your tummy stir yet again while the two of you dissolve into flirtatious giggles. 

Just then, the waiter appears with the check, which Rhaenyra quickly scans over before passing her credit card to him. She turns to you as soon as he disappears around a corner, the coy look in her eyes making you feel flush all over again.

“I can’t wait to get you home, sweetling,” she sighs softly and presses a kiss against the curve of your neck before polishing off the last bit of wine in her cup, “Mommy is absolutely dying for something sweet for dessert…” She teases, raking her hand back up your thigh.

A giving mood, indeed.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x you #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra targaryen fanfiction #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen smut #rhaenyra fanfiction #rhaenyra fanfic #rhaenyra smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #emma d'arcy #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #my writing #12 days of smuff

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Gaze of the Moon (HOTD One-Shot)

Rhaenyra Targaryen x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: You and your wife, the Princess Rhaenyra steal a moment of peace together as you prepare for the coming birth of your child.

Fic type: fluff, romance, reflection

A/N: I had intended for this to be fem!reader x Rhaenyra but it wound up GN. This is also for @hotd-bigbang's March 11th prompt.

HOTD: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Did you know of that tale?" You asked softly, brushing your wife's hair back behind her ear as she lay against you in the moonlight. "About the second moon who cracked open from the heat of the sun and let the dragons out?"

Your wife let out a deep breath, the back of her skull pressing into your shoulder as she leaned back against you to peer out at the sky- up at the full moon above. She was gorgeous tonight. Radiant, round- both wife and moon.

The silver rays caught in Rhaenyra's loose hair, free tonight from tight braids and silk ribbons. The way you knew she preferred it. She'd been a wild child who'd grown into a proper lady, though you knew she yearned for the freedom of manhood. If she were a man, things would be easier. You both knew this but didn't care to dwell on it. There was no changing what was.

Rhaenyra hummed, eyes catching in the moon's gaze.

"I'm sure I remember my father telling me such a story once," she affirmed softly, lip twitching ever-so-slightly into the ghost of a smile. Your wife spent so much time stone-faced under the watchful eyes of the court vultures that even in the privacy of your own quarters she sometimes had trouble letting the cracks through. You treasured each of them like jewels as they deserved to be. "I used to stay up late into the eve and watch the moon- waiting for her to split and for the night to grow dark save for the fire of dragon's breath,' she admitted, eyes drawing closed as she thought on the memories.

"Perhaps one day, my dear wife," you said, pressing a kiss to her head before allowing your own to lean back against the cold, stone wall behind you. "Tell me, what is High Valyrian for 'moon'?"

You'd been learning her family's language for some time now, and you were certainly getting there. It was just that you preferred to hear the words from Rhaenyra's tongue. And truly, who could blame you when her voice had such royal lilt? Her voice was a balm for the mind. Or your mind, at the very least. You could listen to her speak for an age and then some.

"Hūra," Rhaenyra replied, a soft knowing smirk on her lips. You repeated it back to her, testing the syllables on your tongue. You liked the way it sounded, the way it felt. You reached a hand around her to brush over her swollen belly, round with child.

"If we have a daughter," you said thoughtfully, "Hūra is a nice name, do you not think?" Your fingers danced over her belly, and you both let out a laugh when you felt the babe kick from within her. Rhaenyra's hand joined yours, squeezing comfortingly. You hastily added, "It is not a traditional name, but I like it."

"Princess Hūra Targaryen," Rhaenrya breathed, opening her eyes to peer at her belly. "It does have a ring to it," she agreed, "and if the little one's restlessness is anything to speak of, the babe likes it, too."

You both lapsed into silence for a while, enjoying the light of the moon, the glint of the stars and the sounds of the night. It was quiet at this hour. Your favourite hour. What else could you possibly want for than this? A loving wife in your arms, a babe on the way, a flask of wine to share and the gaze of the moon on you?

"I suppose it is only fair you get to name one of our children," she said after a while. You'd almost thought her asleep in your arms with how quiet she'd been. "Why not the first. Get it out of the way, hmm?" She teased. "What if the babe is a boy?"

You chuckled softly, flicking at her arm in reply to her jape.

"Thank you, wife. Your generosity knows no bounds. I do not think the bairn is a boy, but if he is, I am quite fond of Vēzos. Best keep with the theme."

"One has to wonder where this sudden passion for celestial names has come from, my love," Rhaenyra mused. "Perhaps we will have twins. The Maester did say it was a possibility. Hūna and Vēzos. Moon and Sun-" Rhaenyra shifted uncomfortably as the babe wriggled under her skin. "I like it."

"Strong names," you added, brushing your fingers through her hair softly, aiming to detangle the few knots that caught in your fingers. "Compassionate names. Perfect for bairns destined for greatness."

You suddenly found yourself hoping for twins. A boy and a girl. Siblings to grow up together and protect each other from the horrors that lay dormant in the realm. You could picture them, age three or perhaps four, playing hide and seek in the gardens. Ages ten and four by their mothers' side on the throne. Ages nine and ten crowned joint heirs to the throne. Ages four and thirty sitting side by side on the throne. Ruling, together. Sun and Moon, over their kingdom. Their birth-right. Protecting each other and keeping each other in check. What was best for the kingdom.

The thought filled you with pride. Oh, yes, you hoped for twins. It wouldn't be long now until Rhaenyra was due. Within a month, most likely. It was part of the reason you both were staying up late at night and enjoying the peace. Once Rhaenyra commenced and completed her labours, there wouldn't be much room for peace and quiet.

And yet, you couldn't wait. You didn't like the thought of your lady-wife in pain, but the thought of your quiet chambers filled with the sounds of a babe or two growing big and strong was perhaps motivating enough for you to bear the thought of her pain. You'd be by her side no matter what, of course. Fuck the Maesters and midwives. This was your wife, your babe. You would be there to support her until she asked you to leave.

"We should retire to bed," Rhaenyra broke your thoughts as she began shifting to stand. "We both need our rest for the day to come. I believe we are making arrangements for catering after the birth."

Ah, yes. The feast the King was insisting upon for the birth of his Grand-Sire. As the birth grew closer, more plans needed to be set. Catering, colours, floral arrangements, gifts for the babe. So many things that Rhaenyra and yourself were set to arrange. You may have enjoyed setting the festivities up, but Rhaenyra would be more than happy to sit out if she could.

You hadn't told Rhaenyra yet, but you'd made arrangements with the cooks to send for the ingredients to make Rhaenyra's favourite sweets. Ones she had not had since she were near a babe herself. The rest of the food, however, you both needed to settle on. A job for tomorrow, quite clearly.

You supported her as she stood, following behind. You stretched out the muscles in your arms and legs, creaking with complaint. You could only imagine how Rhaenyra felt. You left the balcony door open to the bedchambers as you helped your wife shift out of her gown.

Once she was settled into the sheets, Rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief. The bed took the weight off her body and allowed her to settle in. You followed, pressing up against her back to keep her warm against the slight chill of the night.

Rhaenyra took your hand and rested it against her belly. You felt any of your remaining troubles melt away for the moment and pressed a kiss to the back of Rhaenyra's neck.

"Good night, my love," you whispered softly, rubbing your thumb over the silky material of her nightdress. "Sleep well, little one."

You drifted off to the sound of Rhaenyra's soft breathing and the quiet chatter of insects out in the gardens below your balcony, dreaming of the bairns to come, and a life well lived.

#hotd spring prompts 24 #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x you #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra targaryen fanfiction #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #rhaenyra fanfiction #rhaenyra fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #emma d'arcy #hotd x reader #hotd x you #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you #rhaenyra fluff #rhaenyra x reader fluff

[themotherofblood]

Can I request a Daemyra X daughter reader. Readers really quiet and barely talks to anyone even her parents. So Daemon and Rhaenyra are suprised when she comes to them all hot and bothered babbling about sex and such. And she tells them she was reading in the library and found a book about masturbation or something and she tried to do it but it didn’t work.

Breastfeeding and of course mommy/daddy kink

heheh this one is so filthy, YALL did not hold back!! Just by description whoever is reading; you already know it’s taboo as fuck, I will post individual warnings under here. Istg if I get one single ask saying you are so disgusting. I going to wish you eternal diarrhea for life 🤍

Masterlist

Dark!Daemyra Targaryen x Daughter!Reader

major tw: incest! infantilism, lactation kink/breastfeeding. major mdlg/ddlg vibes. lots of clit play (LIKE A LOT) squirting, kinda dubcon-ish, age gap and purity culture and aftercare because I’m not a monster

If this isn't your cup of tea, I have others, do not come at me :)

Rhaenyra had sat the court in her own chambers with her husband, Daemon looked behind her chair as they converted with their vassal lords at Dragonstone of politics and economical benefits and more mundane businesses of fixing toeholds and inkeeps. Their children undoubtedly had all been out dragon riding, all expect one. They were sure she was hidden somewhere deep in the libraries of Dragonstone.

You were one of true beauty, fathered by Daemon on some tavern wench; when he found out about your existence he had brought you back to Dragonstone as a babe after you had been legitimized by Viserys. A quiet mouse in the claws of dragons, a mere girl of eight and ten. You never said much or spoke over a whisper, an angel child with silver whisps of the Targaryen family. Rhaenyra had always been taken with you; her own children ran such a muck in her household that having one that sat still for hours at an end was a blessing by the gods.

“The Queen Alicent hopes to find a match for Lady Y/N,�� The maester said hesitantly as he placed the parchment by Rhaenyra.

“Oh fuck that, she isn’t going anywhere.” Daemon barked.

Rhaenyra considered the possibility, you were old enough to be wed and yet she feared that your quiet demeanour would be squandered under the weight of a loveless marriage; Daemon was right, you could remain here where both Daemon and she could protect you. Such a sweet thing out in the world, it was cruel. The council dispersed as Rhaenyra lounged with a warm cloth on her swollen breasts, milk making them sore as baby Viserys had already been fed.

Then in walked Septa Marlow, her veiled face that remained pinched as always and her unkindly eyes looking furious as you- their sweet daughter followed behind with your eyes fixated on the ground.

“Your grace, your grace,” She offered her courtesies to both Rhaenyra and Daemon. It wasn't unusual for her to complain about the princess’s children. However your guilt-ridden face was a rare occurrence.

“What has happened?” Rhaenyra asked, looking to her teary eyed daughter.

“I had found the princess in the library reading- reading filth!” Septa Marlow hissed “Enganging in sin!”

“What sin?” Daemon perked up, rounding the table to lean against it

“Must- must I elaborate my prince?” Septa Marlow grew uncomfortable, fumbling to find words.

“You come in here, accusing my daughter of something. Speak it plainly then.” Daemon said, unimpressed at the the Septa’s chaste words

“She- she was coupling with herself.” Marlow looked as though she was ready to grace the gods. Rhaenyra’s eyes shot to you, tears of shame fell past your eyes as they remained fixated on the stone floor. You refused to look at your parents.

“Thank you for your report, leave us,” Rhaenyra commanded. The septa took her leave, closing the door behind her with a thud.

There was thick silence that followed, leaving the room in a delicate situation.

“Y/N, look at me.” Rhaenyra said, shuffling further into her seat. “What do you have to say for yourself.”

“I- I was looking for newer books,” You began stammering, your voice, as usual, was barely over a whisper “I couldn’t help it, I felt warm and the book said- I am sorry mother, I am sorry.” Your bottom lip wobbled as guilty tears coated your face.

Daemon’s eyes softened, looking at his little girl sobbing for apologies as if you had stolen candy, such a good girl and the poor thing had not a clue of why you felt what you felt. Daemon pointed to the vacant chair next to Rhaenyra for you to sit. You sniffled, still refusing to look at Daemon as you sat on the chair.

“You are growing sweet girl, it is only natural you feel such urges,” Rhaenyra cooed as she tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. Daemon knelt down to match your height, wiping at the tears coating your reddened cheeks

“No one shall punish my zaldrititos,” He said in attempt to stop your silent cries, you kept shuffling in your seat; yanking at your skirts and yet the fear- more so the discomfort from your face just wouldn’t fade “What is it, sweet girl?”

“I-it hurts,” You whispered as your eyes closed in shame again.

“What hurts?” Daemon asked once more, looking over your body to find any visible mark, if that hag of a Septa laid a punishment on you without him knowing; Caraxes was sure to have a fine meal for supper tonight.

“My- my...” You shuffled more, pulling at the skirts around your crotch, it was only then it dawned on Daemon before he looked back to his wife. His heart filled with fire for the girl’s frustrations.

“You didn't peak, did you zaldritos?” He said with adoration in his voice as he caressed your cheek. She looked up at him, teary-eyed and confused “That warmth in your belly like a sneeze stuck in your nose?” He watched as your eyes pondered his explanation before you shook her head.

Rhaenyra tutted behind him, “Oh, you poor thing.” She got up, offering his daughter her hand. You followed Rhaenyra as you were led into their bed chambers. She helped you onto their martial bed, your feet dangling of the edge as you fiddles with your fingers.

“Won’t you show us where it hurts?” Rhaenyra urged.

Daemon nearly felt his cock twitch in his breeches as his wife coaxed his daughter to rest against a mount of pillows. Daemon cleared his throat as he walked to the bed. His daughter’s eyes were nervously darting between him and Rhaenyra; your breath quickening as Rhaenyra pushed your pretty white sandals off.

“Good girl, just let mother take care of you,” Rhaenyra said in a sing song voice, she pushed your legs to the side; making you lift your hips to the bunch your skirts by your hip. Tears of embarrassment began to pour from your eyes yet again.

“Oh- that old hag didn’t even let you put your small clothes on,” Daemon shook his head, breath hitching as he looked right at the glistening mess in between your legs; he moved to kneel right by you as he urged Rhaenyra’s to console their daughter. “That does look painful.” He tutted.

Your pink bloom shielded by a dainty mound of white wisps, groomed to perfection to be a proper lady. He let a finger trail around your outer folds making you shudder. “Show kepa how you touched yourself.” He said stroking your inner thighs.

You nodded in disagreement, trying to hide your face at the crook of Rhaenyra’s neck as you sat flush between his wife’s legs.

“How are we to help you if you won’t show us sweet girl,” Rhaenyra kissed your temple as she guided your hands to your folds. “Be a good girl, show us.” Your dainty fingers began to hesitantly rub at her glistening petals.

You nearly wanted to be swallowed whole as you averted your gaze away from your kepa, small mewls and whimpers pouring from your lips that set both Rhaenyra and Daemon’s blood on fire. The frustration in their daughter's eyes grew further as your hips began to grind against your hand, a fruitless effort at best as your nimble fingers grew tired. He watched as her bottom lip wobbled again as angry tears began to flood at your eyes.

Daemon stopped your hand, his much larger one engulfing yours, fine little princess had not a clue about eliciting pleasures from one’s body.

“There is something wrong with me,” You whimpered to which Rhaenyra immediately differed.

“There is nothing wrong with our little girl, you just require a demonstration,” She cooed, reaching forward to wipe your tears. “Watch your father, he shall make it all better.”

Daemon made you stick two fingers out, your pointer and middle and gently placed them above where you had been caressing. You were confused until he pushed down on your fingers making you gasp, that’s where it was- the aching throb that bother you for hours as you read that God-forsaken book. Daemon smirked at your reaction as Rhaenyra placed more kisses at the side of your face

“Now gently begin again, darling.” Rhaenyra whispered in your ear.

“Yes, mommy,” You replied, much like as she taught you to write when you were little or took you dragon riding.

You began to rub the right circle above the please-inducing flesh, following the slow motions your father guided above your hands. Your toes curled, finding comfort in the gentle stroke on your arm and legs by three hands. You bit your lip hard to muffle the moans threatening to rip through.

“Ah uh- let us hear them little girl,” Daemon reached forward to pull your lip from you teeth. “That feels much better, does it not.”

You eagerly nodded “So good daddy.” You squirmed in your mother’s hold.

Both Rhaenhra and Daemon took much leisure in hearing you moan and whimper for them, a girl that barely speaks a word to them was wantonly moaning and replying to every word they uttered to you. A subtle panic ran through your body as you get that warmth build in you belly again, for whatever awaited you on the other end never seemed to come to you. Both Daemon and Rhaenyra felt your body seize.

“You must soften your body, just as you relieve yourself in the morrow.” She said, rubbing at your arms. You free hand parting away to take ahold of something, Daemon reached forward, entangling your finger in between his.

“Let go, zaldritos- be a good girl,” He cooed, some string in your mind snapped over your father’s command and you felt the tingles trapped in your swollen nerves spread through your body as you shrieked. Daemon hand held onto your tight as your body shuddered through it pleasures.

You could feel yourself look back to consciousness where everything didn't sound so muffled; you could feel your kèpa petting your hair and your muña peppering kisses down your neck. You blinked your eyes open, still breathing heavily, a lazy smile spreading over your lips her your cheek burned in humiliation over how you came undone for them.

“Must have felt so good,” Rhaenyra hummed as she lifted your fingers to her mouth and suckled on them before letting Daemon savour your taste.

“Mhmm, such a glorious delicacy,” Your father cooed at you.

You felt him shuffle lower, his breath hitting your sensitive mound as your eyes shot open. “So sensitive,” He used his thumb to gently circle your peaking bud from its hiding. He pushed your folds further exposing the reddened bud to the known world. “Such a tiny thing giving you all that pleasure,” He tapped at the exposed bundle of nerves making your jerk against Rhaenyra’s hold.

Daemon looked up, giving you a hardened gaze of a warning. Your father wasn't a strict man, and yet you always wanted to please him. You followed the rules, you finished your meals whole and went to bed at a proper hour; you under no circumstances wanted to anger him.

He let out a cool blow of air from his lips right onto your nerve, making you dig your hands into the sheets to not flick away from him. “It still looks frustrated, does it not Rhaenyra?”

“Yes, yes it does.” She agreed with her husband, letting her soft fingers pad at your nerves, you pathetically whimpered at how sensitive you were but did nothing to fight her advance. She began rubbing circles at your clit once more as Daemon rested on his knees, watching your untouched weeping hold clench and relax over the ecstasy you were in.

“Is your muña making you feel good?” Daemon asked, his fingertips still caressing your legs.

“kessa...Kessa!” You shrieked as Rhaenyra began to rub at your nerves faster, your legs tightened trying to fight the oncoming surge of sensations. The overwhelming sensations again began to water your eyes as you clothed onto Rhaenyra’s arm for dear life.

“Ah...there it is- such a good little girl,” Rhaenyra praised as your cunt spasmed, your legs shaking as your peak consumed your being yet again.

Daemon’s fingers yet again found your cunt, spreading your lips apart to admire your quivering little num, his fingers flicked at the flesh as you still recovered from the aftershocks of your second peak, you fought against them this time; your pussy was unable to take any more of this torment. Daemon pointed at you.

“Kepa deserves a turn, does he not?” He cooed, you still squirmed under his hold trying to wriggle yourself free “Whether you want it or not little girl.”

“One more riñītsos,” Rhaenyra kissed your cheek.

“Daddy- I will die,” You exaggerated, frightened tears spilling from your eyes as the tingles running through your nerves became far too over powering

“You won't die silly girl, kepa and muña will never let you die.” Daemon chuckled, Rhaenyra pushed forward to his down your abdomen as Daemon clutched a tight hold under your knees as he prepared to feast on his babyslut’s cunt. That quivering red little rosebud just begging to be in his mouth. He spat on your cunt before latching himself directly onto your bundle of nerves.

This time you screamed, the loudest anyone might have ever heard you in your lifetime. Rhaenyra consoled you, pampering your skin with her lips as she whispered words of encouragement in your ear. Just as a mother specified its child, Rhaenyra pushed the fingers she used in your cunt in your mouth; muffling your desperate cries as you suckled on them; tasting the sweetish sour slick on her fingers.

Daemon pushed your hood out even further flicking his tongue right under the hood, making you cry louder “Aw riñītsos, is that the very tingly part, is kepa licking your sensitive bit?” Rhaenyra shuffled the top of your gown down, letting your perky breasts spill free. She rolled your hardened pebbles in between her spare fingers. It was far too much, you were going due, you were sure of it. You tummy hurt from his hard you were clenching.

Daemon wanted nothing more than to feel his fingers in your untouched velvety core, yet he wanted your maidenhead unspoiled; something he planned on claiming him on a later occasion. Perhaps your forthcoming name day, he would pamper you old day just so he could watch your little body sob underneath him.

Daemon tapped at you clit “So tingly all over,” He piped, mocking your tears before rolling the nub in his fingers “We are making you feel so good, what do obedient ladies say sweet girl? What's the word?” He gently pinched at the red nerve. You were trying to muster the word at the tip of tongue yet couldn't over the incessant mocking.

“Aw, my love- her little nub is so red, our princess is so sensitive isn't she.” She pinched your nipples harder.

“What the word zaldritos?” Daemon laid a spank on your mound making you scream out the word over your mother’s fingers

“Thank you, thank you- krimvose,” You sobbed,

“Good girl,” Both Daemon and Rhaemhra praised in unison as kepa began rubbing at you clit harder before latching himself on one last time.

“So many tingles- I know, a few more,” Rhaenyra held on tighter to your thrashing “Oh dear- there- oh look at the mess riñītsos!”

Your peak gushed all over the bed, coating Daemon’s mouth as your eyes rolled back. Your chest rapidly rises and falls. You were dying, you were sure of it. Daemon and Rhaenyra at both smiled at each other triumphantly as their parental instincts took over.

Daemon lifted his tunic off his body, using it to wipe at your drenched thighs and mound and helping Rhaenyra off the bed and onto her cushioned arm chair before gently placing you onto her lap. He wrapped the two of your with a blanket before yanking the wet sheet of their bed and crumpling it to the floor.

Servants began to pour in to find a perfect picture of a family where a daughter took comfort in her mother’s arms before bed and the father readied himself for bed. He had them rekindle the fire for you, even with dragon’s blood running in your veins you were some how always cold. Only once the servants took their leave, Daemon kneeled at your level as both him and Rhaenyra fussed with your gown.

“You were so good for us riñītsos,” He cooed as he helped you stand, he yanked once more on your gown; letting it pool by your feet.

You rested your weight against him as Rhaenyra ran a warm watered cloth against your body, she reached in between you legs to clean and you whimpered

“I know, sweet girl. Almost done.” She coaxed.

“From now on, whenever you feel the tingles. You come straight to us zaldritsos.” Daemon said as he caressed your head against his shoulder, you lazily nodded “Words, my girl.”

“Come to you for tingles.” You mumbled.

Once all was said and done, Rhaenyra found a solution for her swollen breasts as you regressed further, she freed a breast from her sleep shift, opening her arms out in bed for you to lay in. You lazily latched at her nipple as spurts of sweet milk filled your mouth, you hummed; hungrily drinking from her as Daemon undid the bed curtains before joining his girls in bed. He picked out a book; one of your favourites for him to read out for you.

That night you dozed in between you parents arms, tummy full of milk as your mother cuddled your bare body from one end and your father from another.

It was an unsaid rule, parents never pick a favourite child and yet it would be written in history that their riñītsos was definitely the golden girl.

#daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #got x reader #daemon targeryan #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #houseofthedragon #hotd thoughts #hotd smut #daemon smut #rhaenyra smut #oneshot #prince daemon targaryen #ruiewrites #daemon x rhaenyra #daemyra x reader #daemyra smut #dad daemon #girl dad daemon #daemon targaryen smut #house of the dragon smut

[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.

#rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra x oc #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x fem!reader #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen smut #rhaenyra smut #rhaenyra #rhaenyra targeryan #rhaenyra the cruel #queen rhaenyra

[ichorai]

number 13 ; rhaenyra targaryen.

track thirteen of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; rhaenyra targaryen x lannister!f!reader

synopsis ; in another life, she could’ve been with you, she was sure. a life of bliss and a life not ruled by the laws of men.

words ; 5.4k

themes ; angst, mild fluff

warnings / includes ; takes place from e3-8, rhaenyra and reader are bisexual, allusions to sex, infidelity, foul language, lots of time jumps sorry ;-; nearly two decades is crammed into this, reader is later married to jasper wylde and has his children, mentions of other hotd characters, jason lannister being annoying, not quite a happy ending cries :(

The celebration for Aegon’s second name day was in full swing. Large, lavish tents were erected, decorated with flowers and greenery of all sorts. Every which way you looked, there were tables full to the brim with cakes and pastries and cheeses, goblets of wines and platters of fruits. Outside the tents lined stalls offering roasted meats dripping with rich oils, exotic delicacies from Essos, and all sorts of extravagant animals parading for show. 

You’d taken to watching the blue peacocks with muted fascination—it was the first time you’d seen birds that large. Sure, the doves at Casterly Rock grew plump and lazy, but they were no grand feat.

Your brothers, the lion twins of house Lannister, Jason and Tyland, stood by your side. They were bickering amongst themselves about who would be the first to speak to the Princess, Rhaenyra Targaryen. They weren’t being too quiet about it either, loudly proclaiming that the other twin would have to wait their turn.

“Toss a coin,” you boredly said, picking up a golden-green grape from a gilded tray on a nearby table and popping it into your mouth. “Though, knowing you two, you’d probably be too bull-headed to decide who gets heads and who gets tails.”

“I get heads!” both of them announced at once. They glared at each other for a moment, before Tyland propped his hands on his hips and blew out an exasperated sigh. 

“Fine. You go first. The one that goes last will be the one that she remembers, anyway,” Tyland told his twin, his Lannister pride getting the better of him. He arched an eyebrow and jutted his chin out to the Princess, who’d just strode out of the tent. 

You tore your eyes away from the ridiculous birds, fixing your gaze on Rhaenyra. Her hair shone a pearlescent white beneath the sun’s brilliance, nearly as bright as the golden rings she twirled about her fingers, hands clutched closely to the deep red bodice of her dress. She was a grand beauty, you surmised. It was no wonder your brothers were so desperate for her hand—though you were certain they only wanted her for the power that came with her rather than the Princess herself. 

A smile twitched over your lips upon seeing Rhaenyra lean over the sweets, sneakily plucking a lemon slice off of one of the cakes, popping it into her mouth just as quickly as she had swiped it.

Off Jason went not a second later, content with speaking to her before his brother. In his mind, he was sure she’d fall in love with him on the spot—how could she consider anyone else when he could offer her anything she wanted? A handsome, strong husband, as much gold as she could yearn for, and the promise of children with golden-silver hair?

“She doesn’t look too pleased,” you murmured to Tyland, studying the way Rhaenyra’s features soured with distaste the longer Jason spoke.

The corner of his mouth tilted upwards in mild amusement, but he said nothing else. Instead, he slunk off to disappear within the tent, needing to speak to the King about urgent matters concerning Prince Daemon’s reckless endeavors.

Jason could feel his little sister’s stare bore into the back of his neck. It made him nervous, despite his larger-than-life ego—he itched to prove to his family that he was capable of winning the Princess over. 

“Was your own second name day as grand as this?” he crowed, trying his best to appear nonchalant. 

Barely sparing him a glance, Rhaenyra folded her fidgeting hands behind her back. She trained her eyes on the large bonfire situated across the field. “I honestly don’t recall, and neither will Aegon.” There was a twinge of disdain in her voice, but that went largely unnoticed by Jason.

“Lord Jason Lannister,” he said, bowing his head ever so slightly.

Rhaenyra half-smiled. “I gathered that from all the lions.”

Hastily, Jason chanced a look down at his apparel—he was decked in crimson and shimmering gold and embroidered lions of all sizes. He was practically a walking banner for his house. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

“Your twin serves on my father’s council,” Rhaenyra told him, narrowing her eyes in scrutiny. 

Snapping his fingers, Jason beckoned for a servant to come forth and bring him a chalice of wine. “Tyland is frightfully dull, gods love him. My sister finds me far more entertaining.” It wasn’t a complete lie—Jason would often take you riding outdoors whilst Tyland took to reading in complete silence with you. Jason merely surmised that you enjoyed your time more with him rather than his twin. He plucked a goblet off the tray and held it out for Rhaenyra to taste. “The finest honeyed wine you’ll ever try. Made in Lannisport, of course.”

He didn’t catch the way Rhaenyra subtly rolled her eyes. “Of course,” she said. She took a small sip, humming mildly. It tasted like every other wine she’d had. A part of her wondered if the sister Jason had been talking about was around. Was she in the tent, amongst the women gossiping around the Queen Alicent? Immediately, her mood soured once more.

“The Kingswood is a fine hunting ground,” Jason started speaking again, eager to spark a flame between them. “But the best spot is to be found at Casterly Rock. Have you been?”

“Once,” Rhaenyra replied. “On a tour with my mother, when I was young. Honestly can’t recall much of that, either.”

With a grin, Jason kept boasting on, “The Rock is thrice the height of the Hightower in Oldtown, taller still than the Wall in the north.” He stepped closer to her. “It’s been said that if one were to stand in the tower on a perfect day, one could see clear across the Sunset Sea.”

“Must be quite something.”

“I don’t have a dragon pit, of course,” he said, voice lowering an octave, “but I do have the means and the resources to build one.”

Arching a brow, Rhaenyra leveled her eyes with his. Amethysts against emeralds. “Why would you need a dragon pit?”

“To house dragons, of course,” he bluntly replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’d do anything for my Queen. Or… my lady wife.”

There was a beat of silence. Realization and anger flooded her features all at once moments later. 

“Thank you for the wine,” she said with a stiff, polite smile, handing him the chalice. With that, she stormed off, making her way back to the tent. 

You watched her disappear, before fixing your eyes on Jason. You wondered what in seven hells Jason had said to make her so upset. Knowing him, he’d probably soiled the mood with his ridiculous self-importance.

Inside the tent, Rhaenyra made a bee-line to her father, interrupting the conversation he was holding with Lyonel Strong and, as her rotten luck would have it, Tyland Lannister. 

“Is that what I am to you?” she hissed. “A prize to proffer about to the great houses?”

Pursing his lips, the King calmly told his daughter, “You’re of age, Rhaenyra. And Jason Lannister is an excellent match.”

“He’s arrogant and self-serious!”

From behind the two, Tyland could barely hold back his victorious laugh. 

“Well, I thought you might have that in common,” Viserys said. Rhaenyra recoiled with a scowl at his words, as if she’d been struck. “Since you came of age, I’ve been slowly drowning in a lake parchment flung from every corner of the realm. Marriage proposals, all. And I have tried, oh so often, to discuss it with you! But you’ve refused me at every turn!” His voice raised with frustration. Several curious heads turned to see what the commotion was.

Baring her teeth, Rhaenyra insisted, “That is because I do not wish to get married!”

“Even I do not exist above tradition and duty, Rhaenyra!” the King yelled.

Rhaenyra hotly spewed out a protest, but was quickly cut off by Otto Hightower. The two were reeled back in from their argument, noticing everybody’s prying eyes on them.

“You must marry,” said Viserys to Rhaenyra. And that was that. 

He turned to Otto, asking what it was he needed to say, effectively dismissing Rhaenyra. The Princess angrily pushed her way out of the tent, the heels of her boots scuffing deep into the dirt once she exited.

“What do you think has got her knickers all twisted?” Jason asked, taking a large bite into a sizzling skewer of meat. The two of you watched as Rhaenyra made her way to the tethered horses beside the tent. 

You shook your head, exasperated. “You’re such a fool, Jason. You know nothing about women. Did you even try to ask if she wanted to marry you, instead of presuming it to be so?” Before he could respond, you were already walking off, leaving your indignant older brother in your wake. You stopped by the sweet desserts on one of the long tables, picking up a delicate slice of lemon cake.

A coil of nervousness sat within the pits of your stomach as you approached the Princess. You were near the same age as Rhaenyra, if not just a few moons younger. If it were anyone else, you would’ve easily made friends without hesitation. But this was the Princess—she was royalty.

And it didn’t quite help that she was so beautiful.

“I’m sorry about him,” you said, pulling Rhaenyra’s attention away from the horses, to you. She spun the golden rings about her fingers in quick motions. She studied your face first, before darting down to the simple dark dress you were wearing, detailed with yellow embroidery. It took her a moment to realize that you were Jason and Tyland’s sister—you shared many physical similarities with your brothers, though Rhaenyra had to admit that you were far prettier than they were. “Jason is an imbecile. He thinks his own cock should be gilded with gold.”

Your words made Rhaenyra smile, the corner of her eyes crinkling as she laughed. A strange sort of pride festered within your chest.

“I take it the Lannister twins are your brothers?”

“Unfortunately, Princess.”

She hummed in amusement. Her eyes flickered to the cake you were holding.

“Would you, uhm—” You cleared your throat, a nervous flush creeping up your neck, spilling over the skin of your cheeks. “Would you like the lemon slice? I saw you nick one off before my brother came to you. I… I usually find it a bit too sour for my taste. Would be a waste for me to toss it away.” 

After a moment of consideration, she nodded, and you held it out for her to take. She murmured a sound of content at the tart sourness, before shooting you a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” She fiddled with her rings as you absent-mindedly tugged at a loose thread on your dress. “I understand how you feel. I mean, obviously not as much pressure as you, I’m sure, but… my father wants to marry me off as soon as possible.”

Rhaenyra’s features softened ever so slightly. “It’s terrible. Fathers forcing us into marriages we don’t want. If I was born a man, none of this would be a problem.”

You turned your head to glance over at Jason, who had already moved on to flirting with other ladies of the court. “I’m glad I was not born a man. Or else, I’d be afeard of turning out like my idiot brothers.”

There it was again. Rhaenyra chortled at your words, her grin growing wider. 

“I’m also glad you’re not like them. You’re far easier to talk to. Much less…”

“Of a Lannister?” It was your turn to laugh. You wrinkled your nose humorously. “Yes, there’s enough lions in our castle as it is. I’m content just being me.”

With a nod, Rhaenyra scanned her gaze along the crowd. “It was nice meeting you, Lady…”

“Y/N.”

Her violet irises glimmered. “It was nice meeting you, Lady Y/N. Thank you for the lemon. Enjoy the festivities.”

You nodded and gave her a slight curtsy, watching as she straddled one of the horses. A part of you wanted to ask where she was off to, but you wisely stayed silent, instead taking a bite of your cake. It was pleasantly sweet on your tongue, just slightly acidic with its aftertaste. 

She gripped the horse’s reins and pressed her knees into its flank, urging it into a fast gallop. The Princess disappeared into the forest, Criston Cole shouting after her, hot on her heels.

During Rhaenyra’s tour for a husband—a tour that her father forced her into, one that she was not at all keen on—she made a stop at the Westerlands. Dozens upon dozens of eligible suitors lined the halls of Casterly Rock, awaiting their moment to present themselves to the Princess.

She was bored, to say the least. None of these men appealed to her.

Certainly not Jason and Tyland Lannister, who’d been relentless in their approach ever since she stepped foot in the castle. They showered her with gifts and gold and heaps upon heaps of riches. 

It’d only been a few hours, and Rhaenyra found herself wondering where you were.

“Lord Tyland,” she called, and the tall, blonde man perked up.

“Yes, Princess?”

“Where is your dear sister, might I ask?”

For a moment, Tyland faltered. What would the Princess want with you, of all people? 

“She’s usually in the library at this time of day,” he replied, miffed. “Would you like me to go fetch her?”

A touch of a smile reached Rhaenyra’s lips. “No, it’s quite alright. Would you be so kind as to escort me to her?”

Both Jason and Tyland exchanged indiscernible looks before Tyland bowed his head and beckoned her along, down the hall. “Right this way, Princess.”

The library was a grand hall, decked with hundreds of looming oaken shelves housing many rows of old, worn books. Tyland silently led her further inside, where there was a small alcove by a window, streaming golden light within the otherwise dim library. You were curled up by the glass, soaking up the light, reading fervently through a tome of alchemic history.

At the sound of footsteps, your eyes snapped away from the yellowing pages, widening upon seeing the Princess.

“You’re dismissed, Lord Tyland,” Rhaenyra told your brother.

Tyland opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. With a nod and a sharp look in your direction, he took his leave.

“Princess Rhaenyra. I’ve heard you’re on tour,” you said, slightly breathless. With fumbling hands, you shut the book closed and put it off to the side.

She clasped her hands behind her back, watching you with both caution and intrigue. “I am. It’s a dreadful affair.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What brings you here, though?”

“I wanted to get away from your brothers.”

You knocked your head back and beamed as you laughed. Rhaenyra smiled then, wide and true. It was probably the first time she’d smiled since she set off on this wretched tour.

“You and me both, then.” With that, you stood up, smoothing out the creases in your soft crimson dress. The color certainly brought out warmth in your eyes, she thought. “Come. I can show you around the castle, if you’d like.”

“Please,” she said, breathily. She briefly thought about the long line of suitors waiting for her. None of them seemed worth the time. 

But you seemed worth all the time in the world.

The two of you linked arms, and you led her out of the library. It was a beautiful castle, with much to explore—but Rhaenyra found it hard to concentrate when all she could think about was your soft skin pressing against hers. 

After you’d shown her the lavish halls, the marbled pathways of the gardens, and the history room full of artifacts and prized Lannister heirlooms, you finally stopped by a gilded staircase.

“Up there are my chambers. My brothers sleep on the other end of the castle. I doubt you’d want to go there.”

The two of you giggled with each other, and she leaned even closer.

“Can we go up?”

“To my chambers?” you asked, hesitant.

For a moment, Rhaenyra feared she’d stepped over some unsaid boundary. She liked you a lot. Perhaps more than she should, for this was only the second time she’s met you. 

“It’s alright if you don’t want to—”

“No!” you blurted, hands shooting out to hold hers. Your thumb brushed over her several rings. “Come. I was just surprised, was all. Nobody’s ever really wanted to come to my room before.”

The two of you made your way up. Not once did you relinquish your hold on her—and not once did Rhaenyra pull away. Tension crackled between you, but not the hostile kind. This was… this was the type that kindled fire within your chest. The kind that made your breaths grow shallow and your cheeks grow heated.

Your chambers were tidy and spacious, with a four-poster bed against one wall and a gold-detailed table across the room. Several windows were open, showcasing a beautiful view of the seas, glittering hues of clementines and tangerines.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, breathless, resting her hands upon the windowsill. “No wonder Lord Jason boasted about the view here.”

“Jason would boast about anything,” you snorted, coming to stand beside her. “But it is beautiful.”

Rhaenyra turned to look at you, finding you much closer than anticipated. She studied your features—the slope of your nose, the way your lips were parted ever so slightly, the beauty mark just below your right eye. 

“Have you ever laid with anyone, Y/N?” she asked, voice quiet yet bold.

Surprised at her question, you reared your head back with raised brows. But she only stepped closer, her nose nearly brushing yours when she leaned forward. A bout of shyness overtook you, warmth spilling over your cheeks. 

“No, Princess,” you whispered breathily, head tilting. She glanced down to your mouth when you nervously ran your tongue along your bottom lip. 

A second of silence. 

Rhaenyra took one more step, and you could feel her whole body press flush against yours. A part of you wondered if she could feel your heart thrumming loud within your ribcage. She watched you, waiting for any sign of uncomfort.

With that, she kissed you. Your noses slotted, your lips melded, and her hand cradled your face as you fisted the expensive fabrics of her dress. It was near magnetic, the way you two clicked into each other.

She tasted of lemons, you hazily registered. Of course she did.

When she finally pulled away, chest rising and falling rapidly, you found yourself chasing after her lips, eyes hooded with want.

She laughed at that, kissing your cheek once, then fluttered several over the bridge of your nose.

“What about the tour, Princess?” you murmured just before she captured your lips once more.

“Fuck the tour,” she replied, tugging you towards your tall bed.

Her words made you laugh, overcome with giddiness. “Fuck the tour,” you agreed.

A year had floated by since Rhaenyra’s tour. Much to your dismay, your father had you betrothed and wed to Jasper Wylde in a matter of a few moons. He was a handsome man, but you found very few things to speak to him about. It was clear that Jasper saw you as little else than something pretty to fuck—after all, you were the fourth wife he’d taken. Probably wouldn’t be his last, either.

There was only one positive that came out of your marriage to Lord Wylde.

You lived at the Red Keep because of your husband’s place on the small council as the Master of Law. And that allowed you and Rhaenyra to stay close, kindling the fires of your secret romance, along with your more… sexual escapades.

Life in the capital was utter bliss. Save for the few times Lord Wylde bedded you, of course. Those weren’t quite pleasant—most of the time you simply shut your eyes and let him do as he pleased with you. You much preferred your time with the Princess than with your own husband.

Times such as now, for example: your arm wound with hers as the two of you strolled in the Keep’s expansive gardens. You leisurely bent down to sniff the blooming flowers, the bushes bearing assortments of roses and peonies and marigolds. Rhaenyra was complaining about her father bringing up proposals again, all huff and puff and pout. 

“Why are you smiling?” she queried once you shot her an amused glance. “This is serious!”

“Rhaenyra, my dearest,” you told her, grin widening as you clutched her hand all the tighter. “I care very much for your struggles, I do, but your pouting is quite funny.”

With a sigh, the Princess reached out to trace a finger along the petals of a flower. You watched her movements, your smile falling away. “I suppose you don’t have to worry about it anymore. You’ve got your husband already.”

“Yes,” you hummed, stepping closer so that your chest pressed flush up against her forearm. “Lord Jasper is… tolerable. But he never pleasures me the way you do.”

Her purple irises seemed to darken in a matter of seconds, darting down to your parted lips. With that, she seized hold of you and you hurried out of the gardens, back into the castle. In your haste, you both tripped over your skirts and the many staircases, your giggles echoing over the stone walls. 

Once the two of you had successfully snuck into Rhaenyra’s chambers without any spectators noticing, her lips immediately slanted against yours. It was an embrace of fiery passion, as your hands spidered down to her waist and yanked her closer, reaching behind to blindly undo the threads of her dress.

“You’re getting better at this,” she murmured when you pulled her dress off in a matter of minutes, leaving her in just a thin shift. She began trailing hot kisses down your neck.

Gradually, the two of you made your way to her bed, leaving a haphazard trail of tossed-off clothing along the way.

It was a blissful evening, to say the least. But the days of wine and roses wouldn’t last long, the two of you soon came to realize. 

Later that same moon, Rhaenyra was betrothed to her second cousin, Laenor Velaryon. And, to your turmoil, you found that you were pregnant for the first time with Jasper Wylde’s babe.

Ten years passed in a flurry, filled to the brim with many joyful ups and even more tumultuous downs.

You had your two children: your eldest, Petyr, was the spinning image of his father, with dark locks of hair and molten brown eyes. He was quiet and observant, never one to speak his mind. The youngest, Aella, was a bright and bubbly young girl, her curly hair a shade lighter than her older brother’s, but they shared the same eyes. In short, they didn’t look much like you.

That was one thing you shared in common with Rhaenyra. 

After she was wed to Laenor, she had three sons—each of the boys harboring none of the traditional Valyrian physique of silver-white hair and purple irises. Instead, they bore an uncanny resemblance to Lord Harwin Strong, a man you knew Rhaenyra was seeing for quite some time. There were even instances where you joined in with them, but those were few and far in between. 

Your children were close friends with hers, and you and Rhaenyra were happier than ever.

That was, until Laena Velaryon passed away. Which, much to Rhaenyra’s intrigued curiosity and your dismay, Daemon Targaryen was a single man once more. You were never quite fond of him, judging from his infamous reckless behavior and callous nature, only highlighted by Rhaenyra’s fond recollections of him during her childhood. 

Eerily soon after Laena’s death, Laenor also mysteriously passed away. Something was afoot, and you only pieced things together once Rhaenyra approached you the next day. She did not look like she was in mourning for her late husband—in fact, she glowed more than anything. 

“Come with me,” she whispered to you in the dead of night, gathering your hands in hers and staring straight at you. “I’m leaving for Dragonstone to be with Daemon. We’re to be married. I want you there.”

She said your name then, all sweet and silky, as if her tongue was coated with honey.

Your lips parted. Shock, incredulity, and anger flashed across your features all at once. “Rhaenyra, your husband died yesterday.”

“I know,” she said. “He’s…” 

There was a pause.

The two of you gazed at each other. You could feel your heart starting to fracture, even though you weren’t even sure what exactly was happening just yet.

“Come with me,” she repeated. “We can be happy together in Dragonstone. It’s a beautiful castle.”

Your eyes flitted across the hall, to the closed doors you knew led to your children’s chambers. 

“My husband wouldn’t stand for it,” you told her. 

“I’m the Princess. The heir to the Iron Throne. He wouldn’t have a choice,” she stressed.

Blowing out an unconvinced scoff, you shook your head. “I have children now, Nyra. I can’t afford to be as irresponsible as you are.”

The woman in front of you drew her hands away, clearly stung. “Your children would have a good life on Dragonstone. Luke has even taken an affection to Aella, my love.”

A part of your heart crumbled when she called you hers. Nonetheless, you shook your head again.

“These are dangerous times… the realm is growing uneasy. I just don’t think it’d be safe there for me and my children. Besides… a lion has no place in a den of dragons.” 

You chose your words carefully, but clearly, they weren’t careful enough.

“I leave by daybreak. The ship will have space for you,” she murmured lowly, but she took a decisive step back.

Salt pricked the corners of your eyes. Stinging, burning, hurting. You wanted to kiss her for offering, and yet you wanted to slap her for leaving you.

“Goodbye, Princess,” you said, bowing your head. 

Anguish colored over her features. With not another word, she turned and began to walk away, her dark dress fluttering in her wake. She left you there, heartbroken, the both of you not knowing that that was the last time you’d ever speak to each other.

Six years crawled on by—slow and dragging. Life at the Keep without Rhaenyra had proven to be rather dreary. You missed her, awfully so. Things just weren’t the same without the Princess—your lover around.

The realm was beginning to split, it was obvious by now, especially with King Viserys growing increasingly ill and rarely making an appearance outside of his chambers. Greens against blacks, supporters of Queens against supporters of Kings, Targaryens against Targaryens. 

Personally, you fully believed that Rhaenyra should take over her role as Queen once her father passed, but your husband seemed to think differently. You would hear him mutter aloud at times, his and Otto Hightower’s plans to put Aegon on the throne. Your brothers were none too quiet on the matter, either, both the twins boldly vocalizing their distaste to see a woman ruling the realm. A part of you wondered if they were all hatching a plan to supplant Rhaenyra during small council meetings instead of tending to actual matters of importance.

Not only that, Alicent Hightower grew more and more bitter over the years, practically ruling in her husband’s stead alongside her father. It seemed nearly the entire capital had turned their back on their future Queen they swore fealty to. 

You oft worried for your children and their safety, especially with the looming threat of war on the horizon. It was a messy affair, that was made clear, and you were nearly certain that none of it would end cleanly. 

The news that Rhaenyra was coming back to the Keep to reaffirm Lucerys’ claim to Driftmark didn’t delight you as you thought it would, for so many years. Instead, it made you worry even more—nothing good would come from her visit. She was a past love for you now, a woman you scarcely knew anymore. And yet your heart still ached when you thought of her. Of the life you didn’t choose by remaining in the capital.

Besides, Rhaenyra wasn’t here for pleasure. She wasn’t here to see you. She was here for her son—the very son that sliced out Aemond Targaryen’s eye. Alicent would not see kindly to Luke taking over Driftmark, especially with her suspicions of his true heritage. 

Tensions ran high in the castle, that was safe to say.

And so, that was why you brought your children to the Godswood, a place of peace and much-needed quiet. Everybody was abuzz in the castle. Murmurs and whispers and an uncomfortable weight hanging about the air. You couldn’t stand any of it.

You leaned against the trunk and shut your eyes for a moment, listening to the whistling wind and the chirps of birds. Petyr quietly read a book beside you and Aella traipsed over the gnarled tree’s roots that poked up from the soft grass, giggling to herself. They were good children, you thought. They didn’t deserve to see war in their lifetime.

“Do you think Lucerys remembers me?” Aella asked, her arms spread wide open as she balanced herself on a large stone. “We were so close when we were young.”

You cracked an eye open and spared her a sweet smile. “I’m sure he does, darling.”

She’d always harbored affections for him, ever since they were young children. It ran through the family, you surmised.

Your mind flooded with memories of all the times you spent with Rhaenyra here. Stealing kisses beneath the shade when nobody was around, holding hands in the gardens, hurrying down the halls of the castle with linked arms. The two of you were only children then, but it was the happiest you’d ever been.

That was where Rhaenyra found you. 

In truth, she was trying to find Princess Rhaenys to discuss the matter of betrothals, but she was glad she stumbled across you. You were just as beautiful as the day she left, Rhaenyra thought, her purple eyes curious as she watched you affectionately lean against your son. You spoke then, calling out to your daughter to be careful after she tripped over a fallen branch.

Gods, even the sound of your voice made Rhaenyra’s chest feel heavy. She ran her palms down the fabric of her black dress, over her prominent baby bump, and anxiously turned her rings about her fingers. 

After Rhaenyra studied you a little longer, she noticed that there was a distinct sort of heartache with your expression—one that Rhaenyra was sure she mirrored. So much of her wanted to step out of the shadows. She wanted to wrap you in her arms, kiss the beauty mark beneath your right eye, and tell you how much she missed you.

But she didn’t do any of those things. The two of you hardly knew each other now. Merely two strangers that used to know each other in a different lifetime. 

Rhaenyra could hardly swallow around the lump in her throat. Her feelings for you hadn’t mellowed with time, even though she’d convinced herself that they had during her time on Dragonstone. But seeing you right there made years of self-preservation come crashing down in an instant. 

First loves were always the most painful.

And with an exhale that trembled much more than Rhaenyra would care to admit, she turned on her heel and took her leave, off to find Rhaenys. 

In another life, she could’ve been with you, she was sure. A life of bliss and a life not ruled by the laws of men. 

But this was not that life.

And Rhaenyra had come to accept that.

a/n ; thank you for reading !! i made picrews for how i pictured the lannister!reader to look like (you obviously can picture her however you want, though), along with her children, petyr & aella wylde :)

#rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen fanfiction #rhaenyra targaryen fluff #rhaenyra targaryen angst #rhaenyra targaryen smut #rhaenyra targaryen imagines #rhaenyra targaryen x you #rhaenyra targaryen #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfiction #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x oc #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic

[frost-queen]

A mother's love (Daughter!Reader x Rhaenyra Targaryen)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco,   @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine

Touching your forehead it was almost unbearable. The throbbing pain that pulsated around your skull. What ever infected you this morning, you had no idea. The only thing you knew was sicking it out was not an option. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. Wanting to block out so many inputs that kept giving your brain the thrill of it’s life.

Lifting your head up, you removed your fingers from against your forehead. Suddenly noticing your brother Jace staring your way. Brows furrowed with confusion written all over him. A simple gesture of his, speaking loudly. What are you on about? You shook your head with a soft smile to indicate to him it was alright.

That nothing was plaguing you. Jace mouthed if you were sure, making you nod. A quirk of his eyebrow and a subtle step back showed you he wasn’t going to bother you with it any longer. You were so caught up with communicating with your brother, you hardly noticed anyone else had taken in interest in you and your doings.

Your grandfather, the king, clearing his throat. It made you turn your head to him. Seeing how impatient he got from you and your brother disturbing the gathering. Bowing your head, you asked for forgiveness, hands folded neatly in front of you. He moved his fingers up from the iron throne he sat in with a simple nod.

Pressing your lips together, you remained silent not wanting to disturb the gathering. Across the room stood the greens. Aemond quirking his eyebrow at you. Tilting his head slightly as if observing you. Using your brows, bringing them up in a swift motion, you asked in code what his problem was.

Aemond looked briefly away, hearing the words of the king. When he looked back upon you, he brought his brows together looking pitiful. The pain in your head kept bugging you. Then there was the chill all over your body. Hot and cold at the same times. Shivering whilst drops of sweat forming underneath your hair.

King Viserys got up, as you all dropped down to bow or curtsy. All watching him leave. When he left, your family slowly followed. Aemond coming by your side. Before he could say something, Aegon commented snarky. – “Looking rather pale cousin. Trying on a new look?” – he laughed loud.

Aemond pushed his brother’s head away. Aegon tensed his jaw ready to leave a rude comment when both your brothers came joining you. – “Got something to say Aegon?” – Jace said, placing his arm on your shoulder as you had all come to a stop. Luke standing on the other side, arms crossed, daring Aegon to even speak another word.

Aegon puffed loud, flipping his hand at Luke. Luke scoffed loud at how silly he was. – “Are you alright Y/n?” – Aemond asked wanting to touch your forehead. You slapped his hand away before he could touch it. – “I’m fine!” – you lied. – “Aemond is right, are you alright Y/n? You seem a little sick…” – Luke joined in, pointing it out.

You slapped his hand away as well. – “I am fine!” – you shouted out again to mark your point. Biting through the sting of pain through your body, you strutted away. – “Y/n wait!” – Jace coming to run after you. – “I’m fine Jace.” – you commented over your shoulder. He took a hold of your elbow. – “You don’t look fine. You should lay down. I’ll tell mother.”

“No!” – you pulled away rather sudden. – “I’ll handle myself! Not a word to mother!” – you insisted with a glare. Jace swallowed, lowering his head as you walked away. You entered the gathering room. Your uncle Daemon quirking his eyebrow up at your late arrival. You picked up the wine, going to the table in the middle. Daemon moved a bit aside as you leaned over to pour wine in his cup. – “You were late.” – he whispered to you. – “Apologies uncle.” – you whispered back, noticing your mother look your way from across the table.

He took one observing eye upon you. Taking you by the wrist the moment you wanted to pull away, startling you. – “Are you alright Y/n?” – he asked lowly. You nodded ignoring your own sick body. – “I am fine Uncle.” – you spoke softly, moving back. You went to pour the next lord’s cup and so on. Moving to the background, you kept the wine container in your hand. Mind blanking out. Vision becoming unclear as your heartbeat went up.

Sweat staining your body in all sorts of places. No matter how strong you tried to be, it was getting too much. Having ignored your own body by continuing with your daily duties. The voice of your mother speaking faded out as your knees went weak. The wine splashed onto the stone floor, the ceramic breaking. Everyone jumped up, startled by the sound. – “Y/n!” – Rhaenyra called out, picking up her dress to run over to you.

Her daughter who had fainted. Daemon was by your side soon enough. – “She’s burning up.” – Rhaenyra stated having touched your forehead. – “Let me.” – Daemon spoke wanting to pick you up. Rhaenyra shook her head, putting a stop to him. – “No!” – she moved her arms around you, picking you up. – “I’ll take care of my daughter.” – it took her more strength to carry you, as you weren’t a little girl anymore. Daemon wanted to escort her, but Rhaenyra wouldn’t want it.

She carried you back to your quarters, placing you on the bed. Sitting with you on the bed, she took a deep breath. – “Why didn’t you tell me you were ill daughter of mine.” – she whispered, wrenching a cloth in the basin of water. Dapping it gently onto your forehead to cool you down.

“Your health is more important than your duties.” – she leaned forwards to give you a kiss on your head. – “iksan vaoreznuni muña.” I’m sorry mother. Rhaenyra smiled letting her hand go down your cheek. – “daor jorrāelagon naejot sagon vaoreznuni ñuha jorrāelagon” No need to be sorry my love.

She answered in High Valeryian. Wetting your hands with the cloth, she smiled. – “I am here to take care of you Y/n.” – Rhaenyra and you hugged briefly. She staid by your side, taking care of you. Your brothers weren’t allowed in as a part of you was glad. Otherwise they would only scold at you for lying about being unwell.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

#imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #daemon targaryen #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #lucerys valeryon #jacerys velaryon #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen imagines #rhaenyra targaryen x #rhaenyra targaryen x y/n #rhaenyra targaryen fanfiction #hotd #hotd imagines #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Ok so how about Rhaenyra x Harwin’s wife!reader being gay at Court and confusing the fuck out of everyone who were expecting them to hate each other.

I just know there'd be a polycule if he had been married lol

I wanted to squeeze this into Pride month, but time was not on my side. Anyway, thank you for your request. I've altered it slightly to fit my WLW agenda, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!

Warnings: Allusions to smut, but nothing too spicy. Mentions of character death. Word count: ~700

You’d never liked to share. It had been something you had learned to do because you had to. If you wanted the affection of your Princess, you’d have to accept that the Commander of the City Watch desired her too. Rhaenyra was all too eager to please you both, and so you’d settled into an arrangement which allowed for her to entertain the both of you.

By day you were the dutiful wife of Ser Harwin Strong and lady in waiting to Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. By night you were tangled between Rhaenyra’s sheets, a deep seated ache of satisfaction settling within you as you watched her fall apart around your tongue and fingers. That was unless it was his night, and then you’d go to sleep alone, pushing down the acrid sensation of jealousy that rose within your throat, threatening to suffocate you.

It wasn’t that you minded Rhaenyra being with Harwin; your marriage to him was purely out of convenience, an alliance to placate the Strong family’s desire for him to finally settle down, and to avert suspicion of the close nature of both your relationships with the Targaryen Princess. Who would dare to question Rhaenyra spending so much time with her lady in waiting? And who could deny your lord husband for simply wishing to be in the presence of his lady wife? You felt no envy when it came to your husband, you didn’t love him, but there was plenty when it came to Rhaenyra. She’d never fully be yours.

You had done your duty in giving Harwin children - another ruse to avoid supposition - and birthed him a son and a daughter. You loved your children dearly, but had taken no joy in the act of creating them. Harwin’s body felt wrong against your own, it was hard where Rhaenyra was soft. The familiar scent of rosewater and dragon smoke you’d come to love was nowhere to be found in his natural musk. You were grateful to have struck an agreement with him upon the birth of your second daughter that no further marital visits between the two of you were necessary.

Rhaenyra’s own children bore no resemblance to Laenor, which was both amusing and unsurprising to you. You and your husband kept her so busy, she scarcely had time to couple with her own, but you had the distinct impression that she had no desire to, and neither did he. You’d overheard the whispers at court; your children and hers could have been siblings. Essentially, they were, but that was something you’d never admit aloud, and neither would she.

It is a bright, warm day and you are basking in the rosy glow of having your Princess all to yourself. Harwin has been called away to deal with a matter at Harrenhal, leaving you and Rhaenyra alone. The pair of you have spent the afternoon enjoying the Red Keep’s gardens and sipping on light peach wine, the effects of which have made you feel carefree, lightheaded and more than a little careless in the familiarity of your interactions.

You are oblivious to the pointed stares of those seated around the dining table as you wrap your lips around Rhaenyra’s fingers, lapping the viscous liquid from the tips of them as she laughs softly while hand feeding you honeyed fruits. The sweetness envelopes your tongue, causing you to emit a satisfied “mmm”, as she watches you, a hunger that you know all too well lighting up her vibrant blue eyes.

The two of you giggle recklessly as you stumble towards her quarters, not caring who sees as you haphazardly pluck at the lacing of each other’s gowns. You make no effort to be quiet when the pair of you writhe against each other, hot and sticky, as the humid air clings to every naked curve put on display. A desperate clash of lips, teeth and tongue that leaves you both exhausted but happily sated.

It is only when the morning comes and brings with it the arrival of the news of the fire at Harrenhal that your demeanour becomes more subdued. You fight the urge to smile at the revelation of your husband’s death, horrible though it is, you have never liked to share.

#rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen smut #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd smut #rhaenyra targaryen fan fiction #rhaenyra targaryen fanfiction #rhaenyra targaryen fan fic #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #hotd fan fic #hotd fanfic

[hllywdwhre]

Dreamer, Queen, Prince - Chapter 4

Pairing: Daemyra x fem!OC

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

Masterlist

*115AC

The hurt Rhaenyra felt over Viserys, and mainly Alicent’s, betrayal festered into an anger that Viserea watched unfold over the next three years. Both girls spoke only when necessary when the King or Queen were in their presence. Viserea and Rhaenyra now both held their tongues in council meetings and spent all of their free time on dragonback.

The two’s relationship had grown stronger and stronger over the years, both of them healing from the hurt of feeling as though they were constantly betrayed. They knew their truest allies were each other.

The first ‘I love you’ to be spoken in a romantic sense had fallen from Viserea’s lips the night of Viserys and Alicent’s wedding, along with a symphony of moans as the two spent the night exploring every inch of each other.

Amarda and Ser Ryden both knew of their relationship now, though neither seemed to mind it and helped keep it hidden. Amarda was moved to Dragonstone due to her old age. Viserea insisted the maesters there would be able to help her and the work would be easier. Ser Ryden remained beside Viserea.

Viserea’s trips to the city had become less frequent, although Blood and Cheese seemed to have been spoken to by Daemon as they never threatened Viserea again and had begun being even more protective over her. The one time Rhaenyra joined her, they wouldn’t let the two of them travel more than a couple paces ahead of them.

The dreams hadn’t come in a long time. Nothing of Aegon’s birth. Nothing about the Stepstones. Nothing about anything.

The two Princesses sat under the Godwood, both of them in riding gear from that morning and seeming to pour over the studies that they needed to revise. Neither of them could focus on the words in front of them, between the nameday celebrations they knew were taking place and the singing of the lute player.

His singing suddenly stopped and Viserea looked up when he greeted Alicent.

“Did I tell you to stop?” Rhaenyra questioned and Viserea forced back a smirk at the look on the player’s face, “From the top.” He had just begun singing when Alicent called for them,

“Rhaenyra? Viserea?”

Viserea rolled her eyes, knowing it could not be seen from her position next to Rhaenyra. Alicent had always been one for formalities and proper addressings, yet you could tell when she was trying to be especially nice because she would drop them and address them only by name.

“Yes, my Queen?” Rhaenyra answered.

“Your presence is wanted in the outer courtyard. The royal hunt readies to depart.” Alicent told the two.

“We have decided to remain here and read instead.” Rhaenyra spoke for both of them, never looking up from her book.

“You may go, Samwell.” Alicent’s dismissal caused the lute to immediately cease.

“You are to stay by order of the Princess.” Rhaenyra said quickly.

“The Queen commands you to leave the Godswod at once.” Alicent said.

Temper would be Viserea’s downfall. She knew it and she could not stop herself as she stood from beside Rhaenyra and looked to Samwell,

“Your Queen consort commands you to leave, but your two Princesses and future ruling Queen command you to stay.” Viserea said, calming only when Rhaenyra stood up beside her and whispered,

“Ñuha prūmia. (My heart).” Rhaenyra looked to Samwell, who looked as though he was making the most difficult decision of his life, “You may leave.”

“The King wishes for you two to join us.” Alicent said, her voice as polite as ever, as if Viserea had not just said what she had.

“The King has much to celebrate. He does not need me.” Rhaenyra’s voice held no emotion as she looked to Alicent.

“He wants for us all to be together. Perhaps… the hunt could be… fun.” Alicent’s words held no confidence, though she tried.

“Is it the King’s command?” Rhaenyra asked, neither of the girls’ faces changing as Alicent’s hopeful expression changed.

“Yes, but it-“

“Then at once, Your Grace.” Rhaenyra said, gathering the book from the ground where she had set it.

“But it needn’t be.” Alicent tried again, “None of it needs to be this way in truth.”

“No, it used not to.” Viserea said, following behind Rhaenyra.

They were changed into something more presentable than riding gear and shuffled into a carriage along with Viserys, Alicent, Aegon, and a couple handmaidens of Alicent’s that Viserea hadn’t bothered to learn the name of.

“Well, isn’t this splendid? The whole of our family off to celebration and adventure in the Kingswood.” Viserys said excitedly, trying to crack the tension that was ever present around the four adults.

After a particularly rough bump in the roads on the outer edge of King’s Landing, Rhaenyra looked to Alicent,

“Should you be traveling in such condition?” There wasn’t any malicious undertone or sarcasm in her voice. Rhaenyra had lost her mother to childbirth and still grew concerned any time a woman with child was around. This didn’t change for Alicent.

“The maester said that being out in nature would do me well.” Alicent replied.

“Well, you will be with your own child sooner than late, and make me a proud grandsire… both of you.” Viserys said, a genuine smile on his face as he looked between Viserea and Rhaenyra who exchanged uncomfortable glances.

Neither were stupid. They both knew that they would be expected to marry, but both were beyond stubborn. They would only marry if it meant that they could continue being together… and that meant their options for potential suitors was limited greatly. They also knew they would be required to produce heirs. That only added to the complicated nature.

“It’s not so bad. The days are long, but Aegon came quickly and without fuss.” Alicent said, soothingly.

You could tell by the look on Alicent’s face that she hadn’t meant her comment the way it had come across, but that didn’t change the effect it had immediately on everyone in the carriage.

Viserea reached for Rhaenyra’s hand, comfortingly taking it in her own and running her thumb along the back of it.

“You should both ride out with me today, join in the chase.” Viserys said, trying to cut through the tension again.

“I’d rather not.” Rhaenyra said immediately.

“I don’t feel up for riding today, feeling rather nauseous.” Viserea said at the same time.

“The boars squeal like children when they’re being slaughtered. I find it discomforting.” Rhaenyra added on, smiling as Aegon began babbling in the handmaiden’s lap.

“It’s a hunt, girls. How would you two like to participate?”

“I’m not sure why I must.” Viserea said this time, the underlying meaning in her words clear. ‘You don’t truly view me as a daughter. I don’t have to do anything here.’

“You are both my daughters, the Princesses, and you two have duties.” Viserys’ smile looked more forced this time as he replied.

“As we’re ceaselessly reminded.” Rhaenyra replied in a low volume.

“I’m sorry?” Viserys questioned.

“As we are ceaselessly reminded.” Rhaenyra repeated louder.

“You wouldn’t need to be reminded if you two ever attentended to them.”

“No one’s here for us.” Rhaenyra finally said, her voice still calm but the frustration clear.

The rest of the carriage ride was spent in silence, Viserys having no reply, and the silence was only broken by the applause from the gathered crowd at the hunting grounds.

As if proving their point, neither Princess stepped out of the carriage and it was only Aegon who was announced and praised. No one questioned where their future Queen was, further proving they still viewed Aegon to be their future King.

Viserea took Rhaenyra’s hand in hers, using the slight privacy of the carriage to kiss the back of it before they stood and exited.

When they entered the tent meant for their family, they both wandered aimlessly until they found a group of women sitting around the Queen, gossiping about the war in the Stepstones. Viserea nodded at the glance Rhaenyra gave her and they stepped closer, both of them taking glasses of wine.

News of the war was frequent, but they still absorbed every word whispered of it. No matter how he had hurt them, they still feared for Daemon’s safety, and Corlys was a man they both respected and neither wanted to lose. They watched as Alicent introduced Lyonel Strong and someone started rambling about how the Stepstones were suited only for savages.

“Perhaps the Princesses… can give us some insight.” Lady Ceira called to them.

“Neither of us really could, as we have never been to the Stepstones.” Viserea said, smiling politely at Lady Ceira and chuckling nervously.

“Your dear uncle is the great mind behind this war. Is he not?” She questioned.

“We wouldn’t know. We haven’t spoken to Daemon in years.” Rhaenyra answered this time while both of their polite smiles faltered.

“Since you supplanted him as heir.” Lady Ceira pointed out, taking both of the Princesses by surprise at her accusatory tone.

“Daemon made his choices, Lady Ceira.” Alicent defended, “Princess Rhaenyra was more suited to the role.”

The defense brought slight smiles to both Viserea and Rhaenyra’s faces, some small amount of anxiety about Aegon being named heir being calmed by Alicent defending Rhaenyra’s claim.

“He’s made a mess and the King must put an end to it. Send fleets and men and clear out the Triarchy for good.” Lady Redwyne suddenly spoke, stroking the dog she held in her lap.

“But the crown is not at war.” Viserea said, her and Rhaenyra exchanging confused glances.

“The crown… is at war, Princess. Though the King refuses to admit it, we’ve been dragged into it by your uncle and the Sea Snake.”

Strike one, speaking to Viserea as though she was stupid. Strike two, insulting Daemon. Strike three, insulting Corlys. Even though Rhaenyra wasn’t usually the first to snap between the two Princesses, she would snap if you thought to insult three people she cared about in one sentence right in front of her.

“And how have you served the realm of late, Lady Redwyne, by eating cake?” Rhaenyra questioned. The atmosphere immediately tensed and the only sound that could be heard from the group was the dog eating the cake from the woman’s plate.

Viserea left first, though Rhaenyra followed close behind her and they made their way outside.

“I wonder Princess, was your own second name day as grand as this?” The golden hair and lion across his chest gave away that the man was a Lannister, his attention to Rhaenyra gave away that the question was in no way meant for Viserea.

Viserea stepped away as he approached the two, dismissing herself and trailing away to find a familiar face that she could stand to be around. She approached a table where she saw Harwin Strong standing and silently stood next to him, pretending to be interested in his work at skinning the rabbit he was working on.

“Is Prince Aegon’s nameday not enough to entertain you, Princess?” Harwin asked, a half smile on his face to show his words were purely a joke.

“Not so far, it’s the same political talk that I can hear in the keep, but this time I am nowhere near my dragon in order to escape it.” Viserea answered honestly, finding herself chuckling when Harwin laughed at her response.

Viserea kept her gaze locked on the Lannister lad and Rhaenyra as they spoke, chuckling again at Rhaenyra’s clear distaste for the wine he had offered her.

“I suspect a dragon would make a pretty great escape.” Harwin said, looking between Viserea and the two people that truly held her attention.

“It does, especially one of Tessarion’s size.” Viserea replied, her volume dropping and turning to a warning. The warning wasn’t meant to Harwin, but the Lannister who had now stepped entirely too close to Viserea’s Rhaenyra for her comfort.

“I’ve heard she’s outgrown the dragonpit.” Harwin offered, his voice weary as he continued to watch the scene play out.

“She has. She can now only be kept outside of it. She’s outgrown Caraxes, Meleys, Dreamfyre, and Silverwing. They suspect she is the same size as Vermithor, though we have not seen him since my grandsire’s death so it is hard to say if he has grown more.”

“A mighty dragon for a mighty Hand and Princess.”

Harwin’s sentence caught Viserea off guard and she looked back at him with shock in her face at his open praise of her, and of his acceptance of her future place as Hand of the Queen and therefore Rhaenyra’s claim. It was a refreshing contrast from the distaste people usually held when speaking of their future.

“Thank you. It is a great compliment coming from someone with your accomplishments.” Viserea said genuinely, looking up as she noticed Rhaenyra disappear back into the tent where their family was at.

“Go ahead.” Harwin said, motioning with his head to the tent, “I will not monopolize your time when your future Queen looks as though she may need her Hand.”

“Thank you,” Viserea said, quickly following after her.

She walked into the tent a moment too late, seeing heads turned towards Rhaenyra and Viserys as Rhaenyra argued that she did not wish to get married and Viserys shouted about how he does not even exist above tradition.

Otto seemingly interrupted them and Viserea made her way next to Rhaenyra as he told Viserys of a sighting of a white hart. Viserea nor Viserys noticed as Rhaenyra disappeared from the tent and Viserea was all too late as she stepped outside of the tent and saw Criston Cole following behind her on horseback.

Viserea did not follow, knowing that Rhaenyra would have dragged her along if she had wanted her to come with her. She needed time alone and Viserea could understand that.

As the hunting party gathered, Viserea mounted her horse and found herself beside Harwin again as they made their way through the Kingswood.

“I suppose it was a problem beyond the Hand?” Harwin questioned with his voice low so that only the two of them could be heard.

“There are some problems only a Princess and King are able to handle.” She replied.

“Are these problems perhaps… ones that both of you will face as Princesses?” Harwin asked and Viserea looked over to him.

He didn’t show a thirst for the information that usually came along with gossips. He looked as though he simply wanted to speak to Viserea. She nodded,

“Yes. Neither of us wish to marry, and yet we must. Although, finding someone we could even tolerate marrying is a bit difficult when you’re having to fight through figuring out who wants to marry you and who wants to marry the heir to the Iron Throne and the Hand of the Queen.”

“I suppose that would make marriage a chore rather than a celebration.” He conceded, both of them watching as Viserys spoke to a couple men about the sighting.

“I think I’d like to join you in the hunt, Lord Strong.” Viserea suddenly said, watching as Viserys returned to his horse to leave.

“Are you sure, Princess? It will be night soon.”

“Yes, Lord Strong, I am. It is the King’s wish that we join in on a hunt, he did not say which one or how long the hunt could take me.” Viserea looked over to Harwin, a smirk on her face and Harwin’s laugh soon joining the air of chatter around them.

Viserea rode alone with Harwin through the forest. She paid attention to the tips and tricks he gave her about hunting, finding herself surprisingly interested in it. He, in turn, paid attention to every answer she gave him as he questioned her about her life.

What was growing up in the castle like? Did she and Rhaenyra really mount Syrax and Tessarion at just 7? Did she really have a dream about mounting Tessarion? Does she really sneak out to the city? What was the scariest moment of her life?

“When a blade was held to my neck and I thought I was going to leave Rhaenyra alone.” Viserea answered without a hesitation or second thought… including the second thought that would’ve told her that Harwin didn’t know about any of the details surrounding that story.

“Pardon me, Princess, but what?” Harwin asked, a look of shock and amusement on his face, clearly entertained by her answer.

“One of my trips into the city, I had a blade held to my neck.” Viserea answered, unable to stop herself from trusting Harwin.

“Did they know you were the Princess?” Harwin asked incredulously.

“That was their reasoning.” Viserea said simply, “Although reminding them of what would happen to them once word got back to the person who had hired them seemed to do some good..”

Harwin had a number of questions written on his face, but Viserea answered none of them unless they were voiced.

“How long ago was this?”

“Right before the war of the Stepstones.”

“And you were scared of leaving Rhaenyra?”

“Her claim will already be challenged enough as a woman, her hand being dumb enough to get herself killed by sneaking out of the castle doesn’t help Rhaenyra solidify her claim. I’ve also promised to protect her and give her my honest word about any trials she may face, I can’t do that if I’m dead.” Viserea’s excuse came easily to her. She had repeated it to herself numerous times over in case anyone ever questioned why she was so devoted to Rhaenyra.

Viserea could tell by the look on his face that Harwin did not believe Viserea’s answer was the full truth and that his next words were chosen very carefully,

“The Princess is lucky to have a Hand that shows such loyalty to her before she is even instated as the Queen.” There was a question in his tone, and Viserea knew it was a dangerous game to play, but she chose her reply just as carefully as he had his.

“Yes, she is. It’s a loyalty that’s been noted to possibly cause trouble in my future marriage.”

A look of contemplation crossed Harwin’s face, but Viserea showed no sign of insecurity in her words. She had not openly admitted to being with Rhaenyra, and on the surface, her words revealed only that she was loyal to the Princess above all, which was to be expected of the future Hand. Whatever internal battle he was facing, he must have resolved as he spoke again,

“If your future husband has an issue with your loyalty to the future Queen, then he does not understand what is needed to marry a Princess.”

“And you do?”

“A Princess and Hand to the Queen’s loyalty is not something that should be used against her.”

“You’re correct, but why would you be okay with your wife showing such loyalty when she is supposed to show it to you?” Viserea questioned, no longer paying attention to where in the woods they were walking as her attention was solely on Harwin.

“Because loyalty to the Realm comes above all.”

The sun had set and the moon was high in the sky by the time Viserea and Harwin returned to the clearing. There was no sign of Rhaenyra and Criston’s return and Viserea felt a tug of anxiety in her stomach.

“Ser Criston is perfectly capable of keeping the Princess safe, Princess.” Harwin said, offering a hand to Viserea to help her dismount her horse.

Viserea stepped down, thanking Harwin and her eyes landed on Viserys and Alicent beside the fire, Viserys’ hand on Alicent’s round stomach.

Viserea slept restlessly that night. She hadn’t realized how used to Rhaenyra’s company she had grown until there was a sharp absence of it. They were unable to share a bed every night, but even on the nights when they were in their own chambers, Viserea knew that Rhaenyra was safe. She knew nothing that night.

The unknown mixed with Harwin Strong’s proposal along with his promise to allow Viserea to remain “loyal” to Rhaenyra without question kept Viserea wide awake most of the night. She did not believe Harwin to be one to lie. She knew his father all of her life, knew how he had been raised and what he had been raised to believe. Still, she had trouble trusting such a seemingly perfect proposal.

She wasn’t sure when she was finally able to find sleep, but Viserea awakened suddenly and with a start.

Rhaenyra was safe, covered in blood, but safe and unharmed. Viserea replayed the dream in her mind over and over and finally noticed another detail. Rhaenyra would be visited by the White Hart.

A smile settled on Viserea’s face and was still present when a handmaiden came to wake her, alerting her that the hunting party would be leaving soon, as they had found a hart.

She departed with the hunting party, figuring when she couldn’t find Harwin that he had gone back out the previous night to continue the hunt. She was proven right when they all approached and Harwin was holding a rope used to restrain the hart and giving commands of how to hold it steady.

Viserea couldn’t help the small bubble of laughter that left her lips at Otto’s disappointment of it not being the White Hart spotted the previous day. Her smile was quickly erased at hearing the sounds of the hart in pain when Viserys was unable to kill the animal with one blow.

She found Harwin’s eyes and held contact with them, not being able to bring herself to look as Viserys landed the final blow to put the animal out of its misery.

After the hart had been loaded up to be brought back to the clearing, Harwin made his way on horseback to ride beside Viserea.

“You seem to be in a better mood, Princess.” Harwin noted, “Has the Princess returned?”

Viserea shook her head, her voice quiet to avoid being overheard by the other hunters,

“She will, and she will return with a new fire in her.”

“What has brought on this new fire?” Harwin asked, her voice now as quiet as Viserea’s.

She simply shook her head, fighting back a proud smile. Rhaenyra’s spotting of the White Hart would be her news to tell, if she so chose to.

“Did you sleep well?” Harwin asked, not bothering to prod at Viserea’s lack of an answer.

“I did not, and yet I feel as though I have. It must be the fresh air and celebrations.”

Both of them smiled at each other, knowing the reasoning for why she felt so well despite the lack of sleep was a sarcastic lie. It was, however, a Princess’ answer.

He didn’t question her on if she wished to accept his proposal and Viserea was grateful. It was not just her decision to make.

They entered the clearing and parted ways again. Viserea stood obediently beside the royal table, and when neither Viserys or Otto offered Alicent a seat while she held Aegon, Viserea took the child from Alicent’s grasp and listened to his babbling.

After a while of playing with Aegon and entertaining his happy babbling, silence settled over the camp that even the toddler was able to sense. Viserea lifted her head to see many members of the celebration watching as someone entered the camp. Viserea smirked as Rhaenyra walked past the table, covered in blood with a boar being carried by the horse she had used yesterday. Rhaenyra’s face showed no sign of emotion, but her head was held higher and Viserea could sense the newfound confidence Rhaenyra carried.

The return to Kindslanding was uneventful. Rhaenyra batted away any maesters, insisting she was fine, and once she was clean and they could clearly tell the blood wasn’t hers, they believed her. The two Princesses had no time alone together until late into the evening.

Viserea had, once again, snuck into Rhaenyra’s chamber as soon as Ser Ryden had told Viserea the hallways were clear. She threw herself onto the bed next to Rhaenyra and the two cuddled closer to each other without thought.

“I take it you now feel much less insecure about your claim to the throne?” Viserea questioned.

A smile broke onto Rhaenyra’s face after a look of confusion faded away.

“And I can assume that you had another dream?” Rhaenyra returned.

“I did. I saw you on the top of that cliff when it approached.”

“A sign from the gods that I am the rightful heir.”

“Two signs if you include my dream of it.”

Rhaenyra leaned forward, pressing their lips together in an innocent yet emotional kiss.

“Thank you, my future hand. You always held faith and confidence in me, even when I couldn’t do it myself.” Rhaenyra told Viserea with a voice full of sincerity and emotion.

Viserea felt a flush rise the her cheeks at the look Rhaenyra gave her. It would have been obvious to anyone who spared a glance to the two in that moment the love the two felt for each other.

“You are my cousin, my future Queen, and my heart. You have given me no reason to lack either faith or confidence in you. My loyalty and love is something you will always have,” Viserea told Rhaenyra with the same amount of emotion in her voice, “I also believe there is a third sign the gods have given us that we are on the right path.”

“What is it?” Rhaenyra questioned, her eyebrows furrowing together.

“A proposal from Harwin Strong along with a promise that he understands how strong my loyalty to you is and does not wish to interfere with it.”

Viserea explained everything that had happened after she had left while Rhaenyra listened intently. This proposal was the very thing they needed in order to keep their relationship. All that would be left would be Rhaenyra’s marriage.

The next morning, they were summoned again by the King to the Small Council chambers. When they entered, the room was tense and Ser Addam was accepting a roll of parchment from Viserys who had told him to make sure he delivered it to Daemon himself in Dwarfstone.

Rhaenyra and Viserea looked to each other, though neither of them let the confusion they felt show on their faces. Only once the room had emptied did Rhaenyra voice her confusion,

“Dwarfstone?”

“I’m sending word to Daemon. Aid is sailing to the Stepstones.” Viserys answered, looking at Rhaenyra and Viserea as they approached the chairs next to his own.

“Did he make call for help?” Rhaenyra questioned.

“He would sooner die. But his king does not mean to allow that.”

Viserea sat beside Rhaenyra, both of them quiet now. It was a habit built over the last couple years. Neither of them voiced their opinions much anymore, except to each other after the meetings. Not after the dismissal they faced last time they tried voicing their opinions, ones that, ironically enough, were about the current topic of affairs.

“Do you not think my decision correct?” Viserys asked, his hands resting on the table as he looked between the two women.

“It is no consequence to what we think… as we are often reminded.” Rhaenyra replied, causing Viserys to give an exasperated look to Rhaenyra that he soon gave to Viserea when she, too, remained silent.

“Daemon is thorn enough in my flesh. Will you two insist on taking after him? Must everything be a battle?” Viserys asked, still looking between the two.

Rhaenyra had an ironic smirk on her face as she and Viserea exchanged glances. Viserea kept her face blank.

“If you refer to your attempt to marry me off to Casterly Rock.” Rhaenyra replied bitterly.

The briefest flash of anger crossed Viserea’s features at the mention of the Lannister’s failed marriage proposal, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

Viserys sighed, “I am sorry, Rhaenyra. I was trying to help you. Will you not be helped? Why must every effort on your behalf be resisted, as if to the death?” His voice grew frustrated as he looked down at his daughter.

“Because you mean to replace me, with Alicent Hightower’s son, the boy you always wanted.” Rhaenyra said with a voice full of her own frustration mixed with desperation, “You have him in hands now. Y-You have no further use for me. You might as well peddle me for what you can. A mountain stronghold or a fleet of ships.”

Viserea could hear the way her words shook and the pain that laced through them. The confidence she held after seeing the White Hart could not replace what she so desperately craved, a craving that Viserea knew as well. A father’s love and approval.

Viserys looked confused at Rhaenyra’s words, as if none of this had ever crossed his mind. He looked to Viserea,

“Do you feel the same? Do you feel as though your position as Hand of the Queen is no longer, and that I will peddle you away for political gain, also?”

The sudden attention on her with such a vulnerable question took Viserea by surprise and it took a moment for her to respond,

“Yes, I do.” Viserea said, in a rare moment of vulnerability that she usually kept between her and Rhaenyra.

A part of her wanted to elaborate and say more. To tell Viserys about how having a Lannister propose to Rhaenyra, while she knew that Harwin’s proposal had not been brought to the King first, and that meant he had set no one up for her, had felt like a slap in the face. The moment it had happened, her anger had been due to her possessiveness over Rhaenyra. She knew that Harwin’s proposal was not one Viserys had arranged, and later that night, she had felt as if she wasn’t as important as Rhaenyra. She knew she wasn’t in some ways; she wasn’t the heir, she wasn’t his true daughter, and she was now third in line to inherit the throne and would be fourth once Alicent’s second child was delivered. Still, to arrange a proposal between Rhaenyra and nothing for Viserea only firmly reinstated the belief she held that Viserys never viewed her as his daughter like he said, and that she became an orphan the day Aemma died.

She said none of this as Viserys continued to stare at her, his confusion changing to a look of apology.

“The two of you have misjudged me.” He said, his focus now flitting between the two.

“All know it. Jason Lannister knows it. You said it yourself, the lords of the realm gather like vultures to a carcass, hoping to feast on my bones,” Rhaenyra argued with him.

Her maturity she had gained over the years shown through, as she would have turned this into a screaming match three years prior. Now, she kept her voice calm and spoke firmly.

Viserys sighed again,

“It is true that as royalty we must marry for advantage, to forge alliances and bolster our strength. You have always understood this. I myself was promised to your mother when I was-“

“Ten-and-seven years of age.” Viserea and Rhaenyra said as one.

“We’ve heard that story since we’ve had ears to.” Viserea said, both her and Rhaenyra looking up at Viserys with challenge in their eyes.

“I loved her. She made a man of me. I do not seek to replace you, or you, children. You’ve been much alone these last few years. Alone and angry with only each other’s loneliness and anger to company each other. I will not live forever. I wish to see the both of you contented, happy even.” Viserys’ voice grew in anger and frustration as he spoke to them, but it never rose to a yell, a true sign of the effort he was putting into keeping the conversation from becoming an argument.

“And you think a man will do it?” Rhaenyra challenged.

“A family.”

“I had a family.”

“What would you have me do?!” Viserys asked, his voice continuing to grow in volume and desperation.

“If it was for advantage you would’ve wed Laena Velaryon and Aegon would have never married Adlyn Stark!” Rhaenyra pointed out, knowing that her father could not refute either point.

Viserys’ marriage to Aemma started as a political gain. The North had an army and the Vale was the only army large enough to rival it if the North ever decided to rise against the Crown and become an independent kingdom again. Aegon’s marriage to Adlyn Stark was seen as a slight to the Vale that took months to resolve. They questioned if the Crown didn’t truly see their army as strong enough to stand against the North and if that was why Aegon had married Viserea’s mother, to provide an even better alliance. It took months of fighting, though no bloodshed, for the Vale to believe that Aegon’s marriage to Adlyn hadn’t been a slight. It wasn’t until Adlyn’s body was returned to the North and the Vale saw Aegon honoring Adlyn’s wishes that they believed the marriage had been of love.

Viserys nodded, conceding and admitting Rhaenyra was right,

“That is true enough. You two must marry, strengthen your own claim, shore up your succession, multiply.”

Viserys stepped around the corner of the table as Rhaenyra’s head hung in dread.

“As to your matches, make them yourself. Search him out. Find ones that please the two of you, as I did.”

Both of the girls looked to Viserys with shock written clearly on their faces and then exchanged glances with each other. If they were allowed to choose their own suitors, Viserea would be allowed to marry Harwin. Finding someone to feel the same way Harwin felt would be a challenge for Rhaenyra, but it could be done.

The two agreed that they should tell Viserys of Harwin’s proposal in a couple days. Viserea and Harwin would be seen together throughout the castle multiple times and then they would tell him of Harwin’s proposal. They feared Viserys would become suspicious if Viserea, who had just expressed her distaste and disinterest in marriage, was suddenly agreeing to one with a man that she held no romantic interest in. However, given that Viserys had just stated they could make their own matches, Viserea spoke quickly and abandoned the previous plan,

“I wish to marry Ser Harwin Strong.” Viserea said, looking back to Viserys, “He offered during Aegon’s nameday celebrations, and I wish to accept his proposal.”

Viserys’ face was overcome with shock now at the news. Before he could speak, Viserea continued on, trying to plead her case before it could be rejected,

“He is the heir to Harrenhal, a place that could withstand thousands of men trying to attack it and has the most fertile lands in the Seven Kingdoms, and his father has always been a loyal Master of Laws that the Crown has trusted for years. To unite the Targaryen and Strong houses would make it impossible for us to ever be conquered. Dragons to rule the sky, a castle that a thousand men could never pass, and farmlands to ensure hunger would never be known.”

The silence that stretched after Viserea’s speech seemed to last a lifetime as Viserys took in Viserea’s words.

“I shall think about it. I wish to speak with Lyonel Strong about this before accepting.” Viserys finally answered.

Viserea nodded, just grateful at the moment that she had not been denied.

Rhaenyra and Viserea both stood, beginning to leave the room when Viserys called for them again,

“I did waver, at one time. But I swear to you now, on both of your mothers’ and your father’s memory, neither of you will be supplanted.”

Rhaenyra and Viserea gave him a small nod, looked to each other, and then exited the room.

Waiting on Viserys’ answer over the next few days had both the Princesses on edge.

Harwin had begun treating Viserea as though he was truly courting her and that he had not already proposed to her. Viserea had told him everything on one of their afternoon walks in the gardens. He seemed to believe that Viserys would accept the proposal, while every passing hour without an answer left Viserea believing the opposite.

Rhaenyra was unsure what to think. She wanted to believe that her father had meant his words about allowing them to choose their own suitor, but the lack of response made her just as uneasy as Viserea.

Three days after Viserea had told Viserys she wished to marry Harwin, she and Rhaenyra were just returning from their morning flight when they were greeted by not only Harwin, but a member of the Kingsgaurd who said that Viserys had summoned Viserea and wished for her to be the only one present. Anxiety washed away the good feelings that flying had brought her and she parted ways with Rhaenyra and Harwin.

When she stepped into the council room, she already knew his answer by the look he gave her.

“I will not allow the marriage,” Viserys said.

Viserea was as shocked as she was not. She didn’t get the chance to ask why before Viserys was explaining,

“The loyalty of Harenhaal to the Crown is already guaranteed by our own Master of Laws. Other houses would see it as a slight if father was the Master of Laws and son was betrothed to a Princess and future Hand. We must expand our allies.”

Viserea stayed silent for a couple minutes, allowing the silence to become unsettling and Viserys to grow impatient at her lack of an answer. Shock was replaced by anger and betrayal as she tried thinking of a response that wouldn’t sound childish.

When she did finally speak, the volume of her voice was calm, but her tone was venomous,

“The only true allies I have in this court are Rhaenyra and Tessarion. You claim to see me as a daughter the same as Rhaenyra, yet you plan a proposal for her and reject the proposal I bring forward after claiming the suitor would be my choice. I may hold the title of Princess, but I will always be cast aside and used as a pawn, the same as my uncle. I will be forced into a loveless marriage with someone whom I do not wish to marry and my only hope will be that, once Rhaenyra is Queen, she annuls the marriage as I will never consummate it.”

Viserys opened his mouth to speak, but Viserea continued one, unable to hold back the hurt and anger she had kept bottled up any longer,

“I will not be married off to a man who does not wish to be married to Viserea Targaryen and only wishes to be married to the future Hand of the Queen. I will not become a broodmare whose fate is to wind up slaughtered the way Queen Aemma was because my husband values an heir over his wife,” Viserys’ face turned to one of shock as Viserea revealed she knew the truth of how Aemma passed, but Viserea did not pause to allow him to respond, “I will marry and produce heirs with Harwin Strong or Daemon Targaryen, or I will have my hand forced into marriage and do everything I can to ensure that I never produce an heir so that Rhaenyra will annul my marriage the moment she is crowned Queen.”

As soon as she was done speaking, Viserea turned her back to Viserys and, ignoring his calls for her to stop, left the council room. The look on her face must have been enough to scare people away, because none of the Kingsgaurd or handmaidens around the castle said anything more than a greeting of “Princess” as she made her way to her chambers.

She was not surprised to see Rhaenyra, now out of her riding gear and in one of her dresses, sitting on her bed, and Rhaenyra didn’t seem to be surprised by the news of Viserys’ rejection of the proposal.

Viserea angrily told her everything that had been said, not even realizing that she was now speaking in High Valyrian, a true testament to her anger.

“What do you wish to do, my love?” Rhaenyra asked her after she had finished reciting her conversation.

“I am unsure. I am unsure about what I wish to do or how I feel about everything happening around me. I was not even aware I still viewed Daemon as an option for marriage until I said his name. You are the only thing I am sure of and I refuse to be married off to someone who will not allow us to be together,” Viserea answered, still pacing in front of Rhaenyra.

“I know it is you who is supposed to offer me advice, but might I suggest something?” Rhaenyra asked.

Viserea stopped her pacing and nodded, “Of course, my heart. I always value your advice.”

Rhaenyra stood up and closed the small gap between them, taking both of Viserea’s hands in hers and leaning her forehead against Viserea’s,

“Leave King’s Landing, not forever, but for a while. Show him that you mean your words. You said you would take our uncle’s hand in marriage, perhaps you should pay him a visit. I doubt he will take the aid offered by the King in the war, and I believe my father has underestimated the two of you both. Fly to the Stepstones and show father that you are not a young girl that can be walked all over.”

“That would mean leaving you,” Viserea said, shaking her head to dismiss the idea and Rhaenyra smiled at the small argument.

“I can handle myself for a few weeks. I’ll tell father I wish to tour Westeros to look for a husband and you can stay with Daemon or on Dragonstone or even visit our cousins in Driftmark. We can write to each other and, whenever we are ready, we can return. Perhaps leaving King’s Landing will bring us new opportunities… perhaps it will bring us a way to have the marriage we dream of.”

Viserea’s eyes snapped to Rhaenyra’s, studying her closely to see if she meant her words.

“You believe now to be the time?”

“Yes.”

Viserea studied Rhaenyra’s face and, once seeing that Rhaenyra truly believed now was the time, she nodded.

They both knew they didn’t have much time and that it would only be a matter of minutes before someone came looking for one of them, so they worked quickly. Rhaenyra quickly placed multiple changes of riding gear into a bag while Viserea put on her armor. Armor was made for both of the Princesses in case someone ever managed to attack the castle or they ever had to quickly leave, and Viserea never thought she would be wearing it out of her own free will.

Before Rhaenyra exited Viserea’s chambers to distract anyone in the halls, Viserea pulled her in for an emotional kiss. She removed the earrings from her ears that Daemon had gifted her years ago, leaving the ring still on her hand, and gently placed them in Rhaenyra’s hand. She didn’t know how to explain it, but it felt like giving her the earrings was a way to symbolize the three of them together.

Rhaenyra looked down at the earrings in her hand, then back to Viserea and nodded. She knew what Viserea meant by them and she kissed Viserea once more before turning and slipping out of her chamber doors.

Viserea heard Rhaenyra’s false frightened scream and then the running of people past her door and made a break for it. She left her room with her bag over her shoulder and her helmet tucked under her arm and quickly began wandering through the hidden passages in the castle.

She was helped into a carriage and gave the word to bring her to the dragonpit. Once there, she ignored the questions of any of the guards about why she was in armor and mounted Tessarion. Viserys wouldn’t be surprised that Viserea left on Tessarion, but it would only be minutes before someone alerted him that she was wearing armor.

Tessarion took to the skies the moment she was given the command and Viserea began making her way towards the Stepstones.

Tessarion listened to every command and pull of the harness that Viserea gave as they flew. Being away from King’s Landing brought Viserea a sense of clarity and a new sense of determination. She would do anything she needed to in order to make it so that she and Rhaenyra could be together and prevent either of them from ending up married to someone who would oppose their relationship.

#rhaenyra x y/n #rhaenyra x oc #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #queen rhaenyra #daemon x y/n #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon Targaryen x reader #daemon x oc #daemyra #daemyra x oc #daemyra x reader

[certifiedskywalker]

She Keeps Me Warm - Rhaenyra Targaryen

nyrathecruel asked: Could I request Rhaenyra x handmaiden!reader where they’re drawn to each other from the moment they meet and bond over their mutual trust issues regarding losing loved ones while slowly falling in love on Dragonstone? Like Nyra is cold and distant with everyone else, hesitant to let anyone in, but she just clicks with reader and whenever they’re alone, Nyra just melts and goes all soft, all affectionate touches and sweet nicknames and tender looks? (Two of my fav nicknames she’d call reader are: my little one, and Perzītsos (little flame) Maybe even a bit of soft smut, though it doesn’t have to be smut if you’re not comfortable

Anonymous asked: Could you do a Rhaenyra x fem stark reader pls :)

A/N: I had TWO IDEAS for these requests! So stay tuned for another fic publishing soon!

They were not well-kept secrets, Daemon’s unsavory proclivities. So, in turn, Rhaenyra went to neither effort to hide her misery nor how you, a simple handmaiden from the North, seemed to be its only remedy. 

“Enter, perzītsos. He has gone.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the low sound of Rhaenyra’s voice and you pulled your ever-listening ear from the ironwood door. Your hand, fumbling with the wiry giddiness of a lightning bolt, found the cool handle and pushed with a turn. Tongues of yellow and orange greeted you with licks of diminished warmth along with the sight of Rhaenyra, bathed in the same glow. She sat, body spread and extended over the plush armchair before the fireplace.

“Apologies, my Princess, I did not wish to intrude on-”

“What have I told you?” 

Her voice was low still, her eyes still fixed on the dwindling flames, as she addressed you. Heat rushed up to your face and washed down like the tides of the Narrow Sea. Your mouth opened slightly before you closed it, your muscles suddenly all-too-alive. Luckily, the Princess of Dragonstone, Heir to the Iron Throne, clarified. 

“You must call me Rhaenyra,” she turned to you then, light eyes darkened by the colors of fire and smiling softly. “I will not have you hiding behind formality or dutiful, Northern niceties.”

“Apologies,” you echoed, swallowing hard. “I did not wish to intrude on your lawful husband…having you.” 

Rhaenyra’s smile faded, ebbed into a flatline of stone sternness you recognized from meetings with the maester. “He left before dusk on Caraxes, an hour or so before by which I told you to arrive. There was no having of any sort.”

She moved to her feet then, her shoes knocking against the heated stone floor of her chambers as she approached you like the Blood Wyrm in her crimson gown. Her eyes were squinted slightly, focused on you, your face, reading how your eyes slowly widened with her every careful step. It was the same manner in which she approached you the first time: calculated, a predator eyeing prey. The lightning returned again, sending you into a brewing storm that culminated in Rhaenyra’s lips.

When she stood full before you, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the column of your neck. Your breath hitched immediately, and trepidation caught in your throat.

“Princess,” you whispered, though it sounded more like a gasp. Rhaenyra immediately pulled away from your neck, revealing her furrowed brow and playful scowl. “I still do not understand.”

“My perzītsos, what more is there to understand?” Her hands raced up the bodice of your gown to your neck. Her hands were warm dancing along your most sensitive skin. 

“Prince Daemon-” “Is off sowing dragonseed,” Rhaenyra said, though the ease with which she used the term alarmed you. “Just as my court remains adrift gathering council. All men, all cold, making me colder and I will not have that. I will have you.”

Rhaenyra pressed her lips back against your neck, closer to your jaw. You shivered again, your body knocking against hers instinctively, careening into her warmth. The tip of her nose tickled your skin as her lips went lower, nipping at your collarbone. Your hands rose to her waist, the whaleboning of her corset bodice. Beneath the fabric, you could feel her breathing grow more erratic. Your own breathing grew shallow with excitement, so much so that you pushed the Princess gently away. 

She gave you a worried look, her hands caressing your flushed cheek. “Do you not wish to have me?”

White hot, dragon fire panic shot through your veins. “No, no, I-”

But Rhaenyra was recoiling despite your manic clarification, already reigning in herself, her want. She was cooling into her hardened self, the soul sent off to Dragonstone by the eyes of the critical court in King’s Landing. You had seen it too many times before. How practiced Rhaenyra was as holding parts of herself back.

You reached out, just as she had, with your lips finding her neck first and your hands on her gowned hips. She was stiff under your touch but for a moment until she quickly melted into you as your mouth moved up. You pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek before pulling away, eager to see her pleased, unworried; eager to see the Rhaenyra she only seemed to show you.

“I don’t understand what it means,” you breathed out, not entirely knowing what you yourself meant, only that whatever it was made your heart sing.

Rhaenyra seemed to reach and read the most clouded part of your mind, obscured to even you. Her smile returned in glorious full and you felt your heart tickle in your chest. In turn, you felt your own lips quirk upwards, ready to swallow the newness of it all.

“You mean perzītsos?”

You nodded, unsure at first, but, sure in how it made Rhaenyra smile.

“Perzītsos. Little flame. You burn in me. You keep me warm,” Rhaenyra softened, then, her smile ebbing ever-so-slightly. “In the darkest moments, you keep me alive.”

Without wasting another second lost in the storm, you barreled through and crashed your lips into Rhaenyra’s. It felt like you were falling until you actually were as Rhaenyra pulled you down onto the silken sheets of her bed, and the rest was warm.

#game of thrones #got #house of the dragon #hotd #rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #targaryen #hotd imagine #hotd fanfiction #hotd imagines #hotd fanfictions #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon imagine #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen imagine #rhaenyra targaryen fanfiction #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra fanfiction #rhaenyra fanfic

[msmorningstaarr]

prompt 19, pairing of your choosing 🫶🏻

Hey you 💟 HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVEEEEEEE!

You asked, so here it comes:

to tame a dragon. | brat!Rhaenyra Targaryen x brat tamer!Reader

ao3 | masterlist

word count: 2.8k

pairing: brattamer!Reader x brat!Rhaenyra

warnings: established relationship, queen rhaenyra targaryen, sub/dom dynamics(reader dom rhaenyra sub), oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation, mentions of voyeur, some gender dysphoria on reader’s part(?), reader is really engaged in pleasing rhaenyra, no age gap, reader has no physical description, bottom rhaenyra x top reader, rough sex, team black won AU, please tell me if there’s any tag left!

Send me smut prompts! (all pairings in asoiaf universe)

“If you’re going to act like a little brat then I’m going to treat you like a little brat.”

————————————————

The flickering candlelights form shadows behind your sweaty bodies as you and Rhaenyra smile gently at each other after you take her to utter pleasure on her bed. The queen breathes heavily and her eyes flutter with passion looking at your face. In the warm afterglow of your intimate moment, a sense of serenity envelops the room. The air is thick with the sweet scent of candles, their flames dancing in rhythmic harmony with the fading echoes of your shared ecstasy. Rhaenyra's fingers trace delicate patterns on your skin, and the room is filled with a soft, contented silence.

As you both catch your breath, the queen's eyes continue to study your face, still aglow with desire and admiration. Her gaze holds a mixture of vulnerability and satisfaction, a silent acknowledgment of the connection forged between you. In that moment, the world outside the chamber seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you entwined in the aftermath of passion.

A gentle smile plays on Rhaenyra's lips, a tender expression that mirrors the intimacy you just shared. The queen reaches out to caress your chin with her fingers, her touch a soothing balm to both your bodies and souls. The flickering candlelight casts a warm, golden hue over the room, casting a spell of intimacy that wraps around you like a soft embrace.

“Was it of your liking, Your Grace?” You ask her, stroking her face softly as Rhaenyra regulates her breathing.

The queen beams at your question. “I enjoyed a great deal of it, my lady.” She replies, smiling at you. “But now that I have fulfilled my desires, is it still possible for me to fulfil yours?”

“My only commitment is to your pleasure, my Queen,” You speak, embracing your body in a tender manner as both of you sit on the mattress. “If you are fully pleased, then so am I.”

“Well, it is very kind of you to worry about me and only want to please me.” Rhaenyra would then chuckle softly and Rhaenyra would caress your face, her eyes still glued to hers. “But as your Queen, I command you to have your desires too, because I am rather selfless and I want you to feel pleasure like I just felt it.”

“You have no idea of how much pleasure I feel any time you come on my fingers, lips and now riding my thigh, Your Grace,” You chuckled back, stroking her silvery white hair as you gazed intensely at Rhaenyra. “I also feel very pleased to watch you taking pleasure with your husband.”

For a long time, Rhaenyra and Daemon loved to have you as their spectator for the performance they eagerly presented for you. It started innocently, you felt aroused by the way Daemon would manhandle Rhaenyra in front of you, even daring to rip her undergarments apart in urgency for her cunt, dripping wetness for him and exhilarated to have you watching them. With time, the desire for Rhaenyra only grew inside of her until it came the day you could finally have a taste of her. And how sweet she tasted… far better than just having to watch her with him. As time went by, you contemplated wishing you were a man to bury yourself inside Rhaenyra, taking her in all fours, spreading her legs widely so your seed would reach her fertile womb with no troubles.

“You like watching when I am pleasured by my husband?” The queen asked, smirking now, looking at the lady with an innocent look but with the sparkle of the fox of what she was about to speak.

“Yes…” You replied, pulling Rhaenyra to straddle you again. Her scent remained the same and mixed with yours as she cups your face and enticingly sighs as her hips bounce over you, desperate for more of what you have to offer her. “I love seeing you spreading your legs for him. I love when you climax around his cock, when you cry desperately for more of him in front of me, Your Grace…” You murmur, squeezing her rear and nibbling the queen’s ear, who moaned softly to your sultry words.

“Oh…” Rhaenyra would bite her lower lip now, fully delivered to arousal. As she gently rode you, she decided to ask you something, with those same innocent eyes and with obvious hints of a mischievous tone. “So, you like the sound of my voice when I moan or cry for my husband to enter my body?”

You smiled and nodded at Rhaenyra. “Although I still wish I was a man to feel myself inside of you.”

Rhaenyra would shiver and her body squirmed a bit when you teased her like that. The royal also moaned quietly, preparing herself to speak the words that you wished to hear at that moment. “Well… you are not, but I still let you feel my insides and touch me there anyway.” The queen hummed, feeling your delicate hands reach her arse to squeeze, making her head to arch back and nipples harden quickly. She bit her lower lip in the process, waiting for you to touch her like she lusted.

“It’s not the same, Your Grace.” You said, lowering your hand to her folds and getting a bit of her fluids with your middle finger to caress it over Rhaenyra’s swollen clit to keep teasing her. “I wanted to make you feel fully pleased, to look in your eyes when you ride my cock, to steal you away and wed yourself to me… to put my babes on your belly…” You spoke, still teasing. “Would you like to be my wife if I was a man?”

Rhaenyra had her skin shuddering in delight when you caressed her sensitive area so precisely, eagerly moving her lower body to give you more access and having you pleasuring her like this. “If you were a man… I would be your wife, your lover, whatever you wanted me to, I would be it.” Rhaenyras replies, moaning and biting her own lower lip, showing how much she was enjoying this moment of teasing that she was receiving.

“I would have made you the happiest queen in the world.” You replied, smirking. “But unlike your lord husband, I would not share you with anyone.” you continued, adding some pressure over her clit as you kept torturing her with slow moves. You knew almost too well that she desperately needed to release. The queen was already impatient and needy, the more you controlled her body with your grip, the faster she would try to ride on your fingers, her walls clenching around nothing. And when she grew impatient, the brattiness took care of her mind almost instantly.

“I do like being spoiled with attention and being the center of attention. Daemon knows it well,” she began, faintly speaking as moans left her lips. “Therefore, he holds no grudge nor jealousy by sharing me with you, my lady. It keeps me aroused for more, because he makes me feel so wanted and so much loved… I think you should learn from him how to please a woman better.” Rhaenyra teased you, leaning in to kiss her forehead and to hug her. You narrow your eyes because you know what she wants. The queen is greedy and wants it all on her time. Pushing you to the edge sounds like the better option for her.

“Could you repeat yourself for me, Your Grace?” You ask her, pulling off your hands from her sweet spot and leaving Rhaenyra slightly annoyed.

“I would love it if you learnt to please me better, as so far the only way you really manage to please me is by making me ride you until I come on your thigh.” Rhaenyra teased you with a bratty smirk and leaned her body to hug you again, kissing your neck. “I think you should be a little bit more aggressive than you are right now. Because I am getting a little bored from how submissive you are.” She muttered… finally activating all your triggers.

Teased by her words, you instantly grabbed her by her hips and swiftly shifted her body, throwing Rhaenyra on the mattress roughly. “You wish for me to be rougher, my queen?”

Rhaenyra would smirk as you threw her on the bed with an odd strength. That was an unexpected behaviour to happen between you. Your sex with her was gentle and involving, never rough. Rhaenyra would stretch her legs a little bit, feeling completely surprised by this action done on her. “That is certainly much better than me having to be in charge of everything.” The queen replied, rolling her eyes as she provoked you.

“If you’re going to act like a little brat then I’m going to treat you like a little brat.” You warned her, whispering in her ear.

Rhaenyra pulled your hair slightly to increase the teasing. She smirked at this as she felt her body being pinned down. The queen of Seven Kingdoms being put in her place by a merely lady would be an easy way to meet Seven Hells through an execution, however, Rhaenyra enjoyed being dominated by you and only you, that her body collapsed as your menacing words reached her ears. As rebel as Rhaenyra was, she would look straight up into your eyes as she was being held down, and said with that mischievous grin on her face. “And how are you going to punish me for my brattiness, my lady?”

You beamed mischievously and introduced three of your fingers inside of Rhaenyra. “You will only stop coming when I decide from now on. Is that understood?” You ask, already moving your fingers back and forth. Rhaenyra would feel her breath getting shallow as her eyes widened and she had a sharp inhale through her nose as she felt the three fingers of you exploring her inside walls. “Then you better hope you don’t regret it, Princess.” Rhaenyra replied, her voice quite shaky but still filled with the attitude she has had this entire time, very feisty and playful.

“I will only stop when your brattiness leaves this beautiful body of yours.” You spoke, fingering Rhaenyra. With those words and with the actions done by you, Rhaenyra's breath became even shallower as her eyes started to close and opened a few times while her body started to tremble again, this time from other stimuli rather than having to focus on controlling herself. With one hand, you used her fingers inside of Rhaenyra and the other hand was used to stimulate her over her sensitive bundle of nerves.

The queen gasped and moaned when you started to do circling moves around her clit fastly, nearly driving Rhaenyra to complete madness. The noises coming from Rhaenyra’s lips indicate that it was already making her body collapses as if she was convulsing and it made it really difficult for the queen to keep herself quiet.

Her breathing would seem to fail and her eyes would close again, opening only from time to time to look at you, as Rhaenyra seemed to be nearing her climax again. You smirked to see the whimpering mess you were creating on Rhaenyra. Your fingers worked eagerly to see the Queen orgasming once more. But as promised, you did not stop and went down with your mouth to suckle Rhaenyra, not giving her time to rest.

Rhaenyra would be taken by surprise with the new action you took, but she knew how much of an addicted you were when it came to please her. Since the queen's voice would tremble very much as you used your mouth to perform another action to her body, Rhaenyra grabbed onto her lover's head and pulled the lady to her body to increase the pressure between her cunt and your lips. Rhaenyra could feel the waves of pleasure hitting her body as she was very near to climaxing again and the sounds she was making now would make it quite obvious.

You eagerly suckled, kissed and used her tongue all over Rhaenyra’s sweet spot and went even more hungry as you felt the queen trembling, crying and sensitive to her touch as her peak would reach her once more. Rhaenyra's body kept trembling as her cunt announced her inevitable peak, like a storm arriving by sudden, drowning everything. Her body would twitch and her breaths would get shallower again. Rhaenyra moaned loudly and paid no mind to the others who could hear her. She closed her eyes and opened it again from time to time. Tears of pleasure left her eyes as her vision got blurred by the overwhelming feeling you just gave her.

You, on the other hand, did not stop and kept working your tongue on Rhaenyra until she called out your name in full bliss and overstimulation. Rhaenyra's body was fully quivering and she would squirm a little bit as she would climax so easily once more, crying in desperation. However, before Rhaenyra could take her body away from your lips, you had already locked Rhaenyra to have her intimacy attached to your lips after the imminent climax of Rhaenyra. “No, no, Your Grace… I told you I will not stop…” You provoked her, stimulating Rhaenyra with your fingers in slow strokes around her sore clit.

What the queen was expecting after all of her climaxes, was to be released and to take her time to breathe again and get her rhythm back, as you would always do to her. Rhaenyra had underestimated you, thinking you would not be capable of taking her to the edge. To have some more stimulation applied on her and letting Rhaenyra not be free to move away from it you immobilised her hips with your arms and your lips hungrily met her aching core once more, working your tongue on her sweet spot, suckling and licking the sensible skin.

That was utterly the most wholesome sensation the queen had already experienced. “Please… This is too much… I beg you…”

You smugly tried to smile as your lips kept working on her centre. She was already begging. “I see the brattiness is getting out of you, my love… come for me, once more. I know you can, Your Grace…” You faintly spoke, feeling Rhaenyra squirm in desperation as orgasm hit her like wildfire exploded her body. Rhaenyra had her last climax after all. The queen knew she would not stop, but had no idea of how committed you were to take her breath away. Being made to have it again after everything she just went through in almost no breaks is what was causing her to be more tired at this point. That combined with her brattiness, or her desire to be a rebel against this treatment, made her moan again but with these words coming out of her: “Please, stop doing this to me…” You watched Rhaenyra completely numb in the bed after climaxing four times in a row, trembling and whimpering after that whirlwind of sensations, breathing heavily.

“You wanted me rougher, so I did it, my queen.” You replied, finally leaving your lips from her and wiping your mouth, covered in her juices. Rhaenyra seemed to be so tired and numb after what she just went through. Everything the lady just put her through was something unexplainable to the queen and she was deeply in need to breathe and calm down right now. “What you just did to me… Was too much… But it still felt good…” She replied, with a hoarse voice and with a low and trembling tone, although still faintly giggling.

Slightly guilty for overtiring your queen, you go back to your gentle mood and worry about her feelings and well being, wanting to check on her immediately. “I feel I was too rough on you and for thus I apologise to you… do you wish to rest?” You asked, cuddling Rhaenyra and kissing her neck gently. The queen would moan while she was being cuddled and kissed gently on her neck. She would then shake her head in a negative way, to signify that she did not want to be let go.

“No… You were too rough… But it was… Good…” She replied softly, and as she was still speaking she would grab you by the back and pull you to her, looking for your lips and kissing you eagerly. You smiled and buried your head on the crook of the neck of Rhaenyra. The royal kissed you dearly and pulled her closer as well, wishing for it to never end. When their lips parted, you smiled sweetly at Rhaenyra and spoke.

“I do not plan on going this rough on you. Just do not be a brat to me.” You said, giggling.

“Impossible for me, my love… for those would be empty promises.” Rhaenyra snarkily replied before falling asleep in the arms of her lover, being bratty for a last moment.

————————————

a/n: This is my birthday gift for you, @martellspear 💕 I hope you have a wonderful birthday and a bright year ahead of you! It took me so long to write it, but here it is! Please, comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated 💝 have a good reading :)

#ao3 #asoiaf fanfiction #fanfic asoiaf #game of thrones fanfiction #a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x reader #bd/sm brat #hotd fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #house targaryen #house targaryen fanfic #hotd #smut prompts #themed ask games #request #hotd smut #queen rhaenyra

[themotherofblood]

Prologue . 1 | RIVER OF FIRE | THE LADY | D.T x R.T x READER

series masterlist | main masterlist

~ where ever you stray, I’d follow. Begging for you to take my hand ~

“Rhaenyra? Rhaenyra… she is the gust of spring air after a bitter winter. She is a child’s first laughter. She is my knight. Our days spent climbing trees and visiting Aemma. Rhaenyra insisted that Syrax is finally large enough to saddle two but I refused her, what if I fell? I am a little too young and too pretty to die just yet. But too Rhaenyra, she is my happiness and I her lady.”

The summer of one hundred and ten years after Aegon's Conquest, you'd remembered the days to be so vibrant. That was your fifth year at Kings Landing, and the second year since the fourteenth day of the fifth moon since you had realized you held passions for Rhaenyra Targaryen.

There was a true sense of sisterhood between Laena, Alicent, Rhaenyra and you. The little ladies that ran the Red Keep a muck, the hordes of giggles and dozens of fabrics that followed everywhere you went. Alicent and Rhaenyra, the older girls of four and ten, Laena and you were two and ten finding yourself in a closer bind of sisterhood, that and your shared love for exotic fauna.

Your fingers had been deep in dirt, planting away yet another exotic seed that Lord Corlys procured for you and Laena, they never understood how you managed to grow them but you did. They thrived in the summer months, while your hands mindlessly packed soil, and your eyes remained on Rhaenyra as she rested her head in Alicent's lap. You couldn't quite decipher the stinging burn in your chest as you watched Alicent twirl Rhae's silver locks in her fingers.

Laena was a silently observant person, she looked between your eye line before dragging you to lay in between the blossomed flower beds. "I wrote for my brother yesterday, demands of sweets and sieges of poetry were demanded of," you told Laena, truly trying to distract yourself. Laena giggled as she shook her head. The softness of her voice echoed with chirps of hummingbirds, the sun crisp against her skin just as it shimmered against yours.

"Silk and gold threads from Lys, and more shells. Father promised me more." Laena continued as she toyed with her sea blue sleeves. "And thanked him on your behalf for the seeds."

Even as you remained deep in conversation with your companion, your eyes held an envious gaze toward Alicent; you hated feeling this way. She was your friend too, you were all friends with each other and yet this unfamiliar feeling gnawed at your insides for over a year. You giggled and chuckled along at all the court gossip of the older ladies being wed and betrothed to the knights of their dreams.

"Lady Laena," Daemon called out from behind you as you shot up to look at him. This man intimidated you to your core and yet provided you with the wisest of wisdom. "Your mother calls for you," he gestured at Laena. She wished you farewell before running off, you shuffled up awkwardly, unaware of what to do, so you turned your eyes to Rhaenyra and she was still too engrossed with Alicent. Your envious gaze bore holes into the brunette girl; you were meant to be friends but you simply couldn't help yourself.

"You ought to look harder, you might envision an arrow in her head." Daemon mused at your glare, you scowled at him and got up. Shrugging your skirts free of dirt and grass.

"You may jest at court all you like, leave me out of it my prince," you looked up at him with a scowl, lip jutted out as your returned to watching Rhaenyra enviously.

"Ah- I humbly apologise princess," he bit his lip from chuckling further at your frustrations, he held your upper arm to stop you from running away.

"How about you join me for a walk? The day is far too beautiful to be wasted," he offered, extending his arm out of you to take. You looked once more to Rhaenyra lounging with Alicent and then you agreed. You didn't want to be alone at that moment. You walked with him in the royal gardens, nobody questioned anything. He was a frequent visitor to his brother's daughter and you. You had found a quiet corner to lay flat on the grass again as Daemon nursed on a flask of...wine.

He offered you some, which you immediately spit out over the bitter taste making him laugh even louder. "Blegh...," you shivered the taste away "what is that?"

The corners of Daemon's eyes crinkled, "moonshine," he shrugged taking two swigs before putting the flash away.

"It's disgusting, death," you coughed getting the burn away from your throat.

"How is your, city watching going," you began an awkward conversation, fully aware that he was about to question you about your sour behaviour today.

"The heathens of King's Landing ought to fear the colour gold from now on," he stated, looking to the skies. There was an odd moment of silence before he spoke up again. "Perhaps Viserys would send out less of an army every time you princesses visited."

"What were the daggers for? Alicent stole your pretty doll or something," he quirked his brow at you, in truth he was concerned that you might have pounced onto Otto Hightower's spawn, having a history of brawling with young lasses at court who dared to test your patience; he hoped you'd fess up. You shook your head to disagree.

"She would never steal my dolls, she has plenty of her own," you stated, ripping at the grass next to you. Pulling them through one by one as a frown pulled over your forehead once more. The image unwavering within your mind, Alicent asking- no, demanding Nyra's attention from dawn to dusk. Yet today they wore matching coloured gown, Nyra wore matching gowns with you, not Alicent. The portrait a bitter taste in your mouth, how do you explain that to a prince notorious for being wild, unchained.

"So you admit, scary little Dornish princess does play with dolls," he teased, referring to the rude remarks that never seemed to stop at court about you.

"What did you expect? That I play with human skulls?" you scoffed, pouting and looking even more upset. The balls of grad that filled your small fists, you lurched at Daemon and then finally caved. "Rhaenyra seems to enjoy Alicent's company more than mine."

"Well," Daemon began, the thoughts swirling in his head projecting across his face "they are friends, and so are you...?" He pushed along, clearly another motive lingering at his tongue.

"Yes we are- we are just friends," you hesitated to elaborate further, afraid you wouldn't find the weight words to profess what you felt.

"Not very ladylike to lie is it, princess?" He cock his brow up, accusing you to weasel your confession out of you.

"We are more than friends I think, more than sisters." You confessed, tethering yourself to the edge of the truth.

"Ah," Daemon let out a knowing sigh "Young love."

"It's wrong," you hissed "It is love, however." you tutted, shaking your head for having these thought, your mind yet agains filling with the image of curt Septa Marlow with a cane in her hand. Death, that's what such thought entail by the Seven.

"Would you be happier if you told her, having a partner is a blessing," he smiled, honestly happy about what you felt for his niece, there wasn't a moment where Daemon wished not to thrive within the mess that was his family, but something so pure and confused sat by his feet. Finding remorse in his heart for both girl, perhaps they would taste the choice he never got should Daemon be King someday as his brother's heir.

"You have a partner, are you happy?" clearly toying with his disdained marriage, he scowled at you. "You spend the better part of the year with us and the rest with your paramour."

"Where have you heard of my paramour?" Daemon let out a questioning scoff, pondering on where might the little princesses had managed to hear of his whore mongering habits.

"Lord Hand may have mentioned something at supper," you shrugged, "The Mother better not provide me with a husband like you, I might lose my mind."

"You are two and ten, what do you know of love." He japed throwing the grass you threw at him back.

"More than you, the writers are better at professing love than you my prince. Perhaps I could lend you a book." You teased back.

"Perhaps you could," He chortled, leaning back against the tea bark.

"You should bring Lady Rhea a cat, perhaps a white one." You offered, genuine advice, everyone loved cats; apart from Queen Aemma, they made her sneeze like a mad woman. "She'd be more agreeable."

Damon laughed, "She may actually poison the poor thing."

You never understood why Daemon was so open to half the things you and Rhaenyra hurled at him. Young ladies often confessed to their septas but you were sure she would have painted your palms red with a cane if you confessed that you loved a girl. The more your head toiled with those immoral questions, you grew silent once more.

"Apart from your lady wife; had you ever found love?" You asked him out of sheer curiosity.

"You are far too young to worry about such things little princess." He said while shaking his head, his eyes soft as he tried to find a solution to your juvenile problems. "Perhaps if you do want to confess your love, you ought to kiss her."

You shot up straight, looking at him confused "What if do and then I'm with a babe- I don't want a babe; I'd be ruined!" You hissed

Daemon slapped his palm on his forehead "Who has told you of such falsehoods?"

"Septa Marlow did." Your mind began wondering, what would Rhaenyra's babes look like...

"Demented hag," He muttered under his breath "I can assure you, princess, one does not come with a child from a kiss; if that were so. King's Landing would be swarming with my bastards."

"Oh- so I can kiss her?" You blushed, and a new hope flared in your chest.

"Yes, as much as you like." He smiled at your excitement.

"Your grace," A servant girl bowed as she entered the gardens "Dinner has been served in his grace's solar."

Daemon escorted you to his brother's solar, Viserys was already in his seat with Aemma. Just as their family poured into his solar, Aemma's face lit up. You moved around the table, bowing to Viserys before pressing a kiss on Aemma's cheek before sitting down next to her. Her mothering began the second she saw you, tutting at stray pieces of grass tangled in your hair.

"How are feeling today, your grace." You questioned about her condition, yet another pregnancy that she announced four moons before and since then her face began paling, she couldn't join you in the Godswood to help you garden your plants.

"Better, the babe should begin kicking soon enough." She said as she rubbed her belly.

"The boy shall add another to your army I reckon," Viserys japed, letting out a fatherly chuckle along with Daemon.

The doors creaked open when Rhaenyra finally arrived, she too pressed a kiss to her mother and then her father's cheek before sitting herself across from you. "Forgive me, I was carried away with Alicent."

You wanted to scream at the back of your mouth, you didn't want to feel this way. Alicent was your friend, you were a good girl and not a bully. You were being cruel to her in your head but you couldn't stand how much time Alicent was taking away from Rhaenyra. Taking her to the fool's shows and bird watching, she even took Rhaenyra to the Sept. Rhaenyra does not pray, let alone believe in the seven!

You toyed with your food for a while, pushing peas back and forth with your fork, to which Viserys took note "You ought to eat child." He voiced his concerns about making your fork stop its scraping.

"Forgive me, your grace, I'm not very hungry." You shrugged "May I please be excused?"

Viserys looked around the table and sighed, nodding. You said your farewells and sprinted to your room. You breathed out deep stress-infused sighs, grumbling under your breath as you cuddled a pillow on your window bed.

Stupid...stupid girl for thinking she would feel the same way for you, other than a sister.

What if she felt that way for Alicent? Mayhaps that's the reason she began to pull away from you...

It was sinful in so many ways, pillow biters. That's what the older ladies sniggered about in the halls. Were you a pillow bitter? Could girls even be pillow bitters? You tried to concentrate on the book you decided to finish and yet your mind just wouldn't seize its endless blathering.

Your door opened after a series of knocks, in walked Queen Aemma with two servant girls, hauling along a tray of fruits and a glass of milk. "It isn't wise to go to bed on an empty stomach, it will ache tomorrow." She patted your hair, choosing to sit opposite you. "Finish the whole thing."

You whined at the cup of milk, you didn't exactly hate the beverage but gods did it taste absurd some days. She gave you a comforting push, smiling as you tried to consume the cup in one go; perhaps that way your tongue wouldn't linger in its flavour afterwards. You sighed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Good girl," She said, looking out the glaring moon that graced your window "Now tell me what disturbs you? Is it your home again?"

If only it were that simple, you stopped crying about your home more than three years ago, your father abandoned you and your brother was the sole reason your blood still stained its Dornish colours. You meekly shook your head, hoping she would leave the subject at that.

"If it's people at court sweetling, if they malign you in any way. You must tell me." She gently held your jaw, lowering her face to make you meet her glistening eyes.

"Yes, your grace."

"Alright then," She leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, before letting you reciprocate with one on her cheek "Do not stay awake for too long."

You remembered your conversation with Daemon, more so how he always seemed to acquire what he wanted by the sheer strength of his will. The sheer strength of your will, that's what you need. Just a little bit of bravery, for what is the worst that could happen. They have your gelded for making an impasse at the only crown princess of the Targaryen dynasty.

You padded your feet over next door, greeting Ser Westerling who was stationed outside your and Rhaenyra's apartments for tonight. Her room was empty, though prepared for her slumber as fresh incense burned off her receiving table, linens just moved around to sleep in. You shuffled yourself onto her bed. Sitting on your knees at the centre.

"Rhaenyra I love you, in a not sisterly way..."

"I speak from the depth of my heart, I profess my devotion to you sweet princess... no...no that is far too melodramatic."

You began speaking to yourself in your head, insanity, pure insanity. You were sure if you thought too hard; you'd lose yourself in your own mind full of cats, dragons and knights and ten versions of Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra's chamber doors finally opened, she shuffled in; pulling at her earrings as she kicked her slippers away before pulling a sack from her pockets to place on her dresser. Humming a little song under her breath before her eyes fell on you sitting in her bed, she squealed. Placing a palm on her chest, clearly shuddered in shock.

"Seven- what are you doing here?" She questioned, eyes wide as she pushed the little sack away further.

"You didn't come to hug me before bed- so I thought I would visit you." You shrugged awkwardly

"I- I was with Alicent, lost track of time." She said as she stretched the back of her neck.

"Oh-"

Don't say it

Don't say it- you fought your tongue with all your might

"Princess, do you not wish to be my friend anymore?" You said sounding insecure and solemn.

Rhaenyra looked taken aback "What makes you say that."

"You spend all your time with Alicent, going to the markets, the Sept and spend your evenings in her solar... it's just she is your friend too but I rarely see you anymore." You mumbled your words out in one giant sentence.

"I- you silly duck." She curled her lips in her mouth to stifle a growing smile. "We were making preparations for your name day." She confessed, looking amused at your pouted face.

"So...you do want to be my friend." You questioned again to be clear.

"Why would I not." she exclaimed throwing herself onto her bed "You shall always be my dearest companion." She pulled you down into a hug.

Tell her

Tell her

Daemon's voice taunted you.

"Can I kiss you?" You blurted out, your palms began to sweat

Please do not me have gelded

Or beheaded

Rhaenyra looked at you quizzically before turning her head to offer you her cheek. That too in definition was a kiss but that wasn't what you meant. You fumbled with your fingers as your brain racked up ways to confess your passions for your dearest princess

"I meant- have you ever noticed how Viserys always goes straight to Aemma whenever she visits him, the first he does is kisses her." You said trying not to fumble over your words "Well, whenever you visit my stomach flutters in butterflies and all I want to do is kiss you."

Rhaenyra tilts her head, looking confused yet almost grasping at what you meant.

"I love you," You confessed

"So do I." She replied innocent words shared many times over between the two of you.

"No- I love you like a knight would his lady." You elaborate, again fear flaring in your chest.

Please do not have me exiled

"Like a knight loves his lady...?" She repeated, thoughts flooding behind her purple eyes "So are you the knight or the lady."

"I- what?" Her reply confused you, was she happy; was she mad? You couldn't quite place an emotion on her face "Uh- the lady."

"Then I love you like a knight too," She replied smiling ear to ear.

"Wait you do?" You were sure the smile that spread on your face made you look like a drunken fool but you had not a care in the known.

She nodded eagerly "Do we kiss now?"

"I believe so," You agreed, heat rushing to your cheek as your pursed your lips towards her, her soft lips pressed against yours as she graced you with a chaste kiss.

The two of you broke apart in a fit of giggles, Rhaenyra blushed red as you fanned at your warm face.

"That was very nice," she said awestruck, before pulling you closer for another.

"My knight," you whispered against her lips.

next chapter

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #desiblr #houseofthedragon #house martell #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon #house of the dragon smut #daemon fic #rhaenyra targaryen #young rhaenyra #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen x harwin strong #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #queen rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #rhaenyra x fem!reader #daemon x you #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon x reader #river of fire series

[arabellasleopardcoat]

The Empress (Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Turns out, the corpse in your bathroom is a Queen. A very annoyed one, who claims you are hers.

Warnings: Making out, nudity. Mature language.

A/N: Rhaenyra's Ending! Part of my Halloween celebration. Part 1 here.

The woman's screams remind Rhaenyra of her own during childbirth. Though, perhaps, less pained and more frightened. She looks up. All the noise seems to be coming out of a woman around her age, perhaps younger.

The woman is sweet looking, but gods, what a pair of lungs she has.

“What..? Why are you..?” Rhaenyra asks, eyeing your curious attire. You are naked, save for a sheet wrapped around you. The room appears to be one used for bathing, yet it has a strange artifact Rhaenyra has never seen before. It's like a seat. “Are you alright?”

“Me?!” You shriek, a little hysterical. You step closer to the wall, and suddenly, a blinding white light forces Rhaenyra to avert her eyes. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my bathroom?”

Ah. So Rhaenyra was right, she was in a bathing room. She is a bit unsure as for the why, though. More troubling is the fact that you don't recognize her.

“You don't recognize me?” She asks, blinking a bit to get used to the sudden shift in light. She gets into a kneeling position before rightening herself.

Your eyes narrow. You examine her face, and her clothes. Then, your expression morphs, lips stretching into an incredulous smile.

“Rhaenyra.” You mutter. Rhaenyra fights the urge to roll her eyes. She hates the familiarity in which you address her. She doesn't know you, and by the looks of it, you are a commoner. You are not allowed to call her by her given name.

“It's Princess to you. Don't be so familiar.” It comes out much more clipped than she would have liked, but your attitude angers her. She must reassert herself far too often, being a woman. No one would dare try calling her father or her uncle by their given names. She gives an arrogant tilt of the head. “And you are?”

You tell her your name, shakily sitting down on the seat. That, too, Rhaenyra doesn't like. She is the princess, the seat should be offered to her. Yet, when looking at you, shoulders slumped, she doesn't have the heart to reprimand you further.

“Are you alright?” Rhaenyra asks, getting up. For some reason she is unable to comprehend, she feels urged to comfort you. “Where are we? Did the light hurt you?”

Those are good questions. It made sense to ask them. You are a possible ally in a strange situation, one that won't hurt her. It has nothing to do with the sinking feeling on her stomach when your smile dropped. Not at all.

“No… I… I am not hurt. I made the light.” You explain, sounding still a bit dazed. Rhaenyra presses her hand to your forehead, checking for a fever. You don't seem to have one, but your cheeks are strangely rosy.

“You made the light?” She repeats, confused. It must mean you are some sort of witch, but she is not too sure why she would appear here. An enchantment gone wrong, perhaps? But if you were powerful enough to summon a princess, then it meant you could be useful.

“I… Oh, this went wrong.” You sigh, rubbing at your temples. You are still staring at her with surprise written all over you. Rhaenyra feels pleased at being right about you. A witch, but one unaware of the extent of her powers, or perhaps not educated. She could get someone to teach you. It never hurt a King to have a little magic on their side, after all.

“What did you intend to make?” She asks, tenderly brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You are pretty, for a witch. Perhaps your uses could extend to somewhere else apart from fires and woods, and wherever witches worked. “You were about to bathe? Why am I here?”

“I am not sure.” You look absolutely disarmed by the tender touch, and so, Rhaenyra decides to keep at it. Her thumb brushes the slope of your nose. Your skin is soft as a petal. Poor thing, you must be starved for caresses, with the way you lean into her. “A witch did a spell for me. But it went wrong.”

That was unexpected. So you were not a witch yourself, but you consorted with them. It was alright, she supposed. Rhaenyra was not one of those Seven Pointed Star's fanatics, who couldn't tolerate a bit of…. Deviance.

“What was it meant to do?” This time, her finger traces your lips. As if enchanted, your mouth parts. Rhaenyra waits with bated breath. Fortune favors the bold, after all. Will you part your lips for her? Or will you move away?

You are not that bold quite yet. You scrunch up your nose and move your head away. Rhaenyra does not mind it. Most women are not, at first. They do not have the advantage of being introduced into the world of pleasure by the Rogue Prince himself.

“Unblock my love life.” You sigh, tiredly. Your eyes are kept firmly on one of the walls, unwilling to look her in the eyes. You are embarrassed about it, and Rhaenyra fights the urge to coo. You poor, poor thing. All by yourself. So caught up is she in that thought, she almost misses the explanation that follows. “This is not Westeros, Princess. You are not meant to exist here.”

“Where are we?” She asks you. Rhaenyra is starting to get an idea of what is happening here, and she thinks it's not as bad as you are making it sound. You are hers. It is good to know, but what is more interesting is knowing how to move forward from it.

“Another world. My world.” You look up at her, as if expecting to be yelled at. It saddens her. Rhaenyra brushes your cheek with her thumb. You tilt your head up, like a flower to her sun.

“I see. So you are meant to be mine?” She asks, almost predatory. She is probably scaring you, Rhaenyra can tell by the way your eyes widen. Perhaps she is coming on too strong. She doesn't care.

You being hers, now that was a nice thought. You were pretty, and untouched by the horrors of Westeros. An innocent, really. She understood now why her uncle liked his women young. There was something addicting about innocence.

Having already lost hers, Rhaenyra did not want to repeat it. But rather, experience the pleasure of losing it again. And you would be perfect for it.

“I… I do not think…” You mumble, but truly, you have already given in. Your eyes are dark with desire, she can practically taste the sweetness of your surrender.

Rhaenyra presses closer to you. She kisses you, slow and sweet. You can't help but melt into her, allowing her to hungrily lick inside your mouth.

“You are so kind.” She says, when she pulls away to allow you to catch your breath. Your eyes are still closed. You make an almost hurt sound, lips searching for hers already. “So good.”

Rhaenyra leans in, and kisses your neck. You sigh, sweetly. She perches herself on your lap, pressing steady kisses to your throat. Poor thing that you are, so touch starved. Her mind is already racing, thinking of ways to keep you. She won't leave such a precious girl as you are all alone again.

She wishes, not for the first time, that she were a man. Then, he could take you to wife, and no one would dare bat an eye. The Princes from House Targaryen have been doing as they please since they first took the Iron Throne. It's only the fact that she was born a woman that prevents her from doing the same.

Daemon would have taken you already, damn the consequences. Laenor could take you as his second wife, but with the lack of titles you sport, it's unlikely. No one believes him capable of handling one woman, much less two.

She knows what the court says about her children. Rhaenyra is not dumb, nor deaf. She doesn't understand why it is a sin, though. Why should it matter at all? They are only children in the Red Keep who had been born out of love.

No one is more loved than they are, no one has a more charmed childhood. It's a sad thing, but many boys in the Seven Kingdoms do not have the luck to have a single father in their life. What is so wrong with Jacaerys and Lucerys having two?

Your hand goes to her hair, softly directing her mouth to where it pleases you most. You are not made for the cold. That much is clear. Before she had kissed you, you had been a quiet, mousy thing. Sadness had oozed out of you in waves. Under her fire, you had bloomed. You need passion, something that shook you and made you vibrate. You are the perfect treasure for her to guard.

But how to take you with her without causing an even greater scandal? Perhaps, you could be her handmaid. Then Rhaenyra thinks of your pretty hands, getting all rough from the hard work, or the Seven forbid, a Lord raising his voice at you, and she dismisses the thought.

Your hands grasp softly at her waist, touch unbearably kind. Your eyes are slightly hooded, expression full of want and admiration. It reminds her of someone.

“How do you feel about being shared?” There was only one person she could trust for the job. Well, perhaps two. But there was no way her father would allow Daemon to marry a commoner. He had tried that already.

Harwin it was, then. He was as devoted as you were, terribly kind and warm. He understood how sex could mean worship, love, or nothing at all. Rhaenyra could picture it, already. How his hands would envelop your hips, how small you would look next to him. How he would treat you, as if you were made of spun glass. You would make cute children, all with his soft eyes and your gentle smile.

The thought aroused her as much as it frightened her. Sharing you… What if Harwin wanted to keep you? You would make a good wife to him, she could tell. A good couple, so his father would finally be off his back about marrying and producing his own heir.

If he were a Targaryen, he would try. Daemon, she knew, would try to steal you from right under her nose if he thought he had a chance. It was why she would not pick him to marry you, either.

Harwin wasn't like that, though. He was loyal and steadfast in her support. Adding you into the mix… He might grumble at first, but Harwin had always liked pretty things. That's why they worked so well.

It would mean fully committing to him, of course. Yet, was it really that different from what they now had? They shared children already. A wife could not hurt the dynamic.

“Shared?” You recoil a bit, nearly pushing her off your lap. Your face says it all.

“I can't… Women are not allowed to love other women, where I am from.” Rhaenyra explains, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. If you were free to love who you wished in this strange world, your behavior would make a little sense. It would explain why you had offered yourself so freely.

“Where you are from? I… I am not going there.” You shake your head, energetically. Being denied is not something Rhaenyra is used to, yet she likes you more for it. You had a spine. Good. It would serve you well in Westeros.

“You are. Aren't you meant to be mine?”

“Well, you are meant to be mine too.” You answer, petulant. Apparently, being reminded that you are hers has upset you in some matter. Perhaps, you disliked her tone. But you will have to get used to it. She is soon to be Queen. A Queen does not bow to pleas or arguments, no matter how sweet.

“I am the heir to the Iron Throne. I have children. I must go back.” The rest is unspoken. You seem to be unimportant, in the great scheme of things in your world. Why would you not want to follow?

Your face scrunches up. You look about to cry.

“Here, let me…” Her hands start to unwrap your towel. You look startled, but do not fight her. One of her hands squeezes at your thighs, smiling at the softness there. “Good. Harwin will love these.”

Rhaenyra is, of course, taking a bit of advantage of the situation. She had seen enough of your figure to know Harwin would want you. There is nothing that he loves more than being smothered between a woman's thighs. But she wanted to see for herself.

She, too, can't wait to bed you. But that would come with time. You need to get used to the idea of being hers, and exactly what that means, first.

“I find this very rude.” You scowl, pulling your towel back to cover yourself. “I do not want this Harwin.”

“I will take you with me. He is my current lover, and he is not yet wed. There is no better way for us to be together.” Rhaenyra kisses your stomach, over the towel. She kneels as she does so, pleadingly.

She hopes this might move you. There will be no negotiating on her end. You will come, and you will marry Harwin, because she orders it so.

You give her such a heartbroken look, though, it is hard to stay firm. Rhaenyra cups your cheek in her palm.

“Come on, sweet girl. Be mine. I beg you. You won't have to bed him if you don't want to.” She caresses your cheekbone, softly.

“I… I…” You hesitate, clearly torn. Rhaenyra coos at you. You are so sweet and kind, she can't help but feel bad about what she is about to say. But it is for your own good.

The alternative is, of course, just having tonight. A night, to keep you pushing forward from what's left of your lives. Rhaenyra doubts that she could be that strong. Having you a night, knowing you are his, but unable to keep you the next morning.

“Are you happy here? Knowing you could have… Could be so much more?”

“Pet to a Princess.” Your voice is bitter. You scowl at her, all pouty lips. She is used to that routine, it is one she had perfected herself, during her younger years. It amuses Rhaenyra greatly. Never in a million years she would have expected herself to take on the role of her uncle. History repeats itself. Or so they say.

“The love of my life.” She kisses the corner of your mouth. Right now, you need reassurance, but mostly, you need her to take charge. Gods know that when she was in your position, she would have loved for Daemon to resolve her problems. “Get dressed. We will find your witch.”

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[artemiscrocksgf]

pleasure | rhaenyra x fem!reader

rated: mature, explicit 18+ (minors DNI) nsfw

pairings: rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader

summary: “There are other means of pleasure”

warnings: smut, some explicit language, fingering (receiving and giving), oral female

word count: 2.5k

loosely inspired @delfiore 's story <3

a/n: this is my first time ever writing smut or fanfic in general so please forgive me if this terrible!! but if u do enjoy i'd appreciate if you like or reblog

The grand hall filled with chatter, as the King hosted his festivities in honor of his son's fifth nameday with the Lady Alicent Hightower, now Queen Alicent. It had been years since you had returned to Kings Landing though back then you were a mere child – now a lady to be paraded to the court for a husband.

Rows of tables fill the hall, each accompanied by the royal Houses of the kingdom allied to the King. You slowly trail behind your father, the soft glow of the candles and the sounds of the orchestra warmed the air of the Red Keep – the feeling almost nostalgic to your childhood. Your father was among the Kings' council, your mother a dear friend to the late Queen Aeema meaning you often frequented Kings Landing.

As you made your way to your table, indulging in false pleasantries with people you did not know, you found your eyes wandering the hall for a certain Targeryan. Your gaze lands on the empty seat beside King Viserys' royal table, a twinge of disappointment pierces your heart letting it soak for a split second you turn your attention back to the feast that lays in front of you. That was one of the many riches you adored during your stays at the Red Keep, the King did know how to throw a grand feast. Although you try your best to distract yourself, filling your cup with the juice of the grape – your eyes cannot help but drift to the empty seat.

You let your mind turn off as you fake conversations, nodding absentmindedly at the politics thrown at you. When a glimpse of silver-blonde braided hair catches the corner of your eye, she walks towards the King, her guard on tail. You subtly watch her movements, she looked the same as you once remembered but something had changed about her — she stood more confidently. Her eyebrows furrowed as she sternly spoke to her father, you were seated too far to hear the conversation but you could tell neither one of them was happy. Ending the conversation, Rhaenyra abruptly exited the hall ignoring the calls from her father and her guard.

You wait a few moments before excusing yourself from your table, quietly leaving the festivities. You wonder the torchlit corridors, your footsteps echoing the stone pavement. You search the grounds when you catch her sitting on a stone ledge with her knees in her arm. Her face was lost in thought oblivious to your presence, "A gold dragon for your thoughts Princess?".

Following the voice that startled her, Rhaenyra turns, her eyes lighting up when she sees your familiar face. "I did not know you would be attending…" she smiled, pulling you into a gentle embrace, "I would have greeted you if I had," her fingers lingering across your arms. Her fingertips stop at the Valyrian steel bracelet that adorned your wrist. She smiles softly, "You still wear it?" fumbling with the red stones encrusted around the bracelet.

"Of course, it was a gift from the Princess… now heir to the Iron Throne! I shall treasure it with my life." you laugh holding your hand across your heart.

"Heir… to the Iron Throne.." Rhaenyra repeated, her smile fading as she picked at the threads on her embroidered gown. Her expression was not of one that was happy with being named Heir. Rhaenyra exhaled through her nose, letting out a sigh in annoyance. "My father sent me on tour to find the most suitable knight or lord for my impending betrothal…" she paced back and forth. "All of them were halfwits who would not know the difference between their own balls and a dragon's egg." she scoffed letting out her annoyance, "Just the mere thought of having to bed with any of them makes me want to be ill". You sat down on the stone ledge, trying to stifle your amusement at the Princess' disgust.

"This is not a laughing matter, you will not find this amusing when you are devoid of pleasure," Rhaenyra hissed, her arms crossed. Just the thought of Rhaenyra experiencing pleasure sends a blush across your cheeks. "What is it I hear? That you are to be betrothed to Lord Jason Lannister of Casterly Rock?" she teases.

It would be a lie to say you did not find the Princess attractive, but the feeling of heat that seared from your center was something you had not felt for Rhaenyra before. Perhaps the wine had given you confidence or perhaps the haze of desire that clouded your mind drew you towards her — her eyes softly watching your movements as you stood toe to toe.

"There are other means of pleasure," you murmur, your fingertips grazing the sleeve of her gown, your words lingering in the quiet air. What you and Rhaenyra were doing was unfit for the Heir of the Iron Throne, unfit for any becoming lady but the adrenaline that pulsed throughout your body hid your worry.

Her eyes drifted to your mouth, "Tell me," she prompts. Rhaenyra steps forward, the warmth of her body heat lingers, as her deep blue eyes burn into yours. She was so close to you, you could smell her scent – a mix of lilies and dragon, everything about her was intoxicating. Without realizing what you were doing, you reach up cupping her cheek as you bring her closer to your lips when the sudden slam of the grand hall doors startles you both.

She hastily grabs your hand, pulling you with her as she runs down the corridor, the voices from the hall becoming quieter as you run farther away. She pulls you behind one of the stone columns, hiding from the guards that patrolled the halls. Seeing the opportunity she continues running your hand still in hers. Before you could even decipher where you were, Rhaenyra tugged you into a dark room locking the door behind her. You lean against a pillar trying to catch your breath as you study the room you were in, "Are we in the spare quarters?"

Rhaenyra lights a candle illuminating the room, "Do you recall when we would sneak out of our chambers and come here to drink in the late hours," she laughs, the sweet sounds of her laughter making you smile. She catches you staring at her lips while she extinguishes the match, a cocky grin spreading across her face. Heat rushes to your cheeks maybe from the embarrassment or from the heat that filled the air, "Or when you convinced me to ride dragon back with you" you reply diverting the attention, "Gods, we gave our parents a fright when they saw us — my father stationed a guard outside my chamber every night for a week after that,".

"I did not hear the end of it for a month!" she whined, both of you reminiscing on the memories of your childhood. You move towards her gently holding her hands, "Rhaenyra forgive me for not visiting you sooner." You smile sincerely as you rub the back of her hand with your thumb – Rhaenyra's composure changes, her eyes darkening giving you a coquettish glance.

"You are here now," she murmurs, her fingers caressing yours. Pulling you closer to her, she wraps her arm around your waist causing you to let out a small gasp from the sudden contact. Her hands were on your torso, the warmth of them seeping through the fabric of your gown. Goosebumps travel up your spine as you feel her fingers linger up the base of your back to the nap of your neck, gently resting her thumb on your jaw. Your breath catches in your lungs as the Princess brushes her hand on your cheek. "Show me the other ways" her soft eyes locked on yours, slowly pulling you closer to her lips nose skirting yours as her lips hover mere inches away. Her lips brush yours, moving against yours hungrily, and in a way that leaves your mind dazed and your lungs nearly breathless. Rhaenyra's lips smother your small moan as the warmth of her tongue skims against yours.

You pull away from the kiss, a frown spreading across Rhaenrya's face, her lips missing yours. You hold her hand guiding her over to the dressing mirror, pulling her in front of you as you both stand looking at the reflection. She tries to turn and face you but you hold her firm, "Stay," you command.

The rise of your chest is pressed against her back, your hand following the curves of her body - the other tangling in her gown as your lips gently press against her shoulders. Her eyes follow your gentle touch, her lips parting slightly when your palms gaze down her stomach. You reach the hem of her gown and pull it up, your fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps. The effect you have on her leaves you with searing heat from the center of your core. Leaning forward, you slid your hands further up her thigh, Rhaenyra's breath quickens as her skin prickled with heat under your touch. Your hands part her thighs, the distracting caress of your touch has her eyes sink closed, her breathing grows heavier. Your fingers trail the top of her wetness, circling her clit and then down to rub over her dripping entrance. Sliding your fingers through her soaked folds, back and forth they tease.

Letting out a soft whimper, Rhaenyra pushes your palm closer to her wet lips. With a smirk, you rest your cheek down against her shoulder, circling her clit, you tease the entrance of her wetness – slowly sinking the tip of your finger inside her. Her knees buckle with your touch – gliding like silk you easily slip in with ease—all the way up to the second knuckle. You watch her in the mirror, as you slip two fingers into her slit, slowly drawing them out, your finger slick with her wetness. You thrust them back in, setting a steady pace, making her eyes roll back with pleasure with every stroke. Rhaenyra wrapped her arm behind her grasping your face, as you curled your fingers pumping in rapid beats against her wetness. "Seven hells," she moans, her face flustered as her hips grind into your palm.

"Open your eyes," You coo into her ear, Rhaenyra's back sinks further into your chest, almost causing you to lose your balance. Your other hand gripping her breast through her gown, her eyes locked on you as you continue to sink further in her. Thrusting in her, you feel her body seize up tight – squirming underneath your hold, you continue to pump your fingers through her orgasm. As she heaves for a breath, you slowly pull your fingers out – dripping with her cum. You turn her around, capturing her mouth in a deep kiss, your hands gripping her face as you back her into the pillar. You lower yourself kneeling as you lift her gown, getting a perfect view of her wetness. Letting out a gasp Rhaenyra trembles as she feels your mouth teasing her entrance, her eyes instantly rolling back as you lick her wet folds. Her hand tangled in your hair, "Fuck" she cries, your tongue pushing in and out of her. You send her into another frenzy, her sensations spilling over as you savor the taste and the noises that she makes.

She slowly brings your face up to hers, her hands tangled in your hair as she pulls you in for a kiss, your mouth parts as you feel the soft brush of her tongue. You feel her lips tug into a smirk as she pulls away, grappling with your gown she guides you to her bed.

Her fingers toyed with the string of your gown, gently tugging and pulling until the material pooled by your ankles, leaving you bare. Doing the same, Rhaenyra tugged the cloth over her head freeing her breast. You lay down on her bed, admiring her exposed body. The ethereal lines of her face, and the softness in those blue eyes as she watches you. It drives you wild. Straddling on top of you, her hands explore your body – the flats of her fingertips rolling over your nipple. "Rhaenyra you do not need to", your voice shaky.

"I want to pleasure you as you did me,". Leaning down, she molds her mouth to yours, Rhaenyra nips at your bottom lip, her lips smothering your soft moan as she draws you in for another kiss you. Pulling away, she slowly moved down your body leaving wet kisses across your bare skin until she was between your thighs. A whine escaped your lips, unable to close your legs as a burning tension collects in your core. Rhaenyra lowers herself, arching her back to get the perfect view of your wet folds – her fingers trace circular patterns into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, sending ripples to your throbbing center. You tense as the tips of her fingers brush down your wet slit, back and forth she teases.

"My love…" letting out a needy moan, "I will not be able to take it if I do not feel you inside me", aching for her touch, you shift your hips closer. With no warning, Rhaenyra thrusts her fingers into your entrance – your hands gripping her sheets as she plunges deeper into you. Deep inside your core, her finger brushes against the rough spot of nerves against your walls. You tense as you feel Rhaenyra slip two fingers inside, your walls stretching around them, sending waves of pleasure through the walls of your cunt. Her two fingers slick with your wetness plunge deeper without resistance. Doing her best to replicate what she had experienced, her mouth slips around your clit – tracing circles with her tongue. Waves of pleasure cascade through every nerve in your body. Her mouth laps your entrance, gently sucking your clit while her fingers are still thrusting inside your clenched walls. The sight of the Princess devouring your swollen lips sends you over the edge, and the bubbling energy coiling in the pit of your stomach violently spills over. Head thrown back and panting, Rhaenyra continues to lick you through your climax, her fingers plunging faster into you. You feel your muscles tense as the orgasm grows, pulsing around her fingers – everything tightens like a vice, stars imploding behind your eyelids. You whine and subconsciously try closing your legs as the ecstasy sends waves from your core to every nerve in your body, Rhaenyra's hand dipping further into your thighs, her other hand pinning down your legs.

Your ears ring, the ecstasy bursting through your trembling body. Your knees buckle, your eyes squeezed shut – the feeling descending upon you in a vicious wave. Your chest heaving, you pull Rhaenyra from your thighs to your mouth capturing her in a deep kiss.

"Realm's delight indeed.." you smirk.

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