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#black dragon chapters
caseykeshui · 5 months
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Black knight but with a face 😳😊🖤
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I designed him as a secret half-dragon hybrid thing and I love him ¡!! ♥️🐉
I've had this design for a while now too actually
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bohemian-nights · 1 year
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Arlī(Anew)-Chapter 5
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Word Count: ~7,296 words
Rating: 18+
Warnings⚠️: Uncle/niece incest, brief smut, childbirth, miscarriage, stillbirth
Description: Children are a blessing from the Gods. They fill one’s halls with cherubic laughter. Gracing each chamber that they occupy with sweet little melodies. And yet Dragonstone’s halls remained empty.
AN: This story takes place from episode 5 onward. I’ve changed things up a bit but I’ve kept the timeline intact.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9
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120 AC-Dragonstone
Children are a blessing from the Gods. They fill one’s halls with cherubic laughter. Gracing each chamber that they occupy with sweet little melodies. Their little feet pattering about taking them to some curious mischief that remained thus far undiscovered. A whole new world waiting at their fingertips to be explored. And yet Dragonstone’s halls remained empty apart from the sounds of one small silver-haired girl.
Daenys Targaryen had been born in the middle of a late summer storm. It was an easy enough birth for all intents and purposes. Or at least that's what Maester Orlys had told her mother, but the kindly older man had never given birth himself. He did not know the battle women fought to bring their children into the world.
It had been a restless fortnight leading up to her daughter's birth. Most nights Naerys simply drifted in and out of consciousness rather than fully surrender to the land of dreams. She had been having contractions which had increased with each passing day. False labor the Maester had said. Getting her body ready for the birth of her child even if she herself was not fully prepared for all that lay ahead.
Naerys' water broke before the sun rose. The membranous fluid spread out from between her legs wetting the entire bed. Awakening her from her half-dreams. Naerys in her embarrassment tried not to alert her husband of the change in her condition. Nor the ruined state of their bed.
Daemon had become just as restless as his wife. Taking to staying up half the night or waking before dawn reading ancient texts of various natures in their solar by the hearth. Naerys joined him on occasion when the worst of her insomnia overtook her. Sitting in his lap while he rubbed her belly or stroked her coils. It was by that very same fire that Daemon was found the night before his daughter's birth. Rushing into their bed chambers when Naerys let out a pained scream.
Princess Rhaenys, her daughter Lady Laena, along with the little Lady Strongs, and half of house Velaryon had journeyed from Driftmark for the birth of the youngest Targaryen. Arriving just before the storm came in.
Laena had been more of an older sister than a cousin and the older princess had always been like a mother rather than an aunt. “The seven hells will freeze over before I miss the birth of my grand-niece.” Rhaenys had insisted that Naerys was carrying a daughter instead of the son and heir the young princess hoped to give her husband.
Laena had agreed with her mother. Citing the fact that Naerys belly was high, the same as her own when she carried her girls. “The next one will be a boy no doubt, but this one will be a girl dear cousin.”
The two women clothed still in their robes, for they too had been woken up by Naerys screams, shooed her husband away. Making him wait in the hall and later the library with Lord Corlys, Ser Vaemond, and his eldest son, Daeron. The Velaryon knight had insisted that he and his son accompany his brother’s family for the birth of their youngest great-niece. The only man allowed in the birthing chamber was Maester Orlys.
“To a healthy son and heir my prince.” Ser Vaemond had raised his glass of Golden Vintage with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. The umber man then proceeded to drink the early morning away. His son had to enlist the assistance of a servant, after trying and failing to enlist the service of his uncle, to help him drag his incapacitated father back to his chambers in the Windwyrm tower. The Sea Snakes brother was not seen again until the next evening, blaming a headache caused by “bad wine” for his absence.
Naerys' labor had been long. When she was allowed to push, Naerys felt like she was on the verge of death. Rhaenys and Laena would later say that it was completely natural laughing at her bewildered face. The pain had been unbearable. During a particularly gut-wrenching round of contractions, she had screamed for Daemon who was halfway across the castle. Her husband had heard her nonetheless, but Laena turned the man around at the door of their chambers with the help of her father.
“Best to leave the women to it. They know what they are doing Daemon.” Naerys spied her uncle placing a good-natured pat on the younger man’s arm which Daemon proceeded to shrug off. The man uttered a string of threats at the maester, midwives, and even Rhaenys herself before exiting the room.
Naerys was sure that her husband would have gone off for a ride with Caraxes had the storm ceased, but they did not. Her labors continued through the day without further interruptions. Laena and Rhaenys took turns wiping the sweat from her brow or lending a hand to squeeze. After a series of contractions and subsequent pushes that felt like she was being split into two out came Daenys.
“A girl princess.” Maester Orlys held up the babe for Naerys to see. A small healthy girl rather than the hopeful son and heir of Daemon Targaryen. Rhaenys had been the first one to hold her after one of the midwives had cleaned off the blood and vernix from the babe. A pink little pale thing with a set of lungs on her and a full head of silver curls. Her aunt had said that it was like turning back in time.
Daemon had burst through their chambers after the second round of their daughter’s cries. Naerys could not look at her husband as Rhaenys deposited their babe into his waiting hands. “You have a daughter cousin.” The queen that never was face was set to stone as she inspected her cousin. Looking for any signs that he might voice his disapproval at being handed a girl instead of a proper heir, but the man simply laughed.
“Are you sure you did not clone yourself little one?” He beamed at his wife as he kissed the top of their daughter's downy head. The babe had stopped crying after she had been handed off to her father. “Ao jurnegon raqagon aōha muñnykeā, issa byka zaldrīzes. Kirimvogon se Gods syt bona.” You look like your mother, my little dragon. Thank the Gods for that.
Naerys had never seen her uncle smile as much as he had that night. He would not put the babe down. Only when she began to fuss out of hunger did he hand her back to her mother. Stroking a large hand down her cheek while whispering words in Valyrian as she nursed from her mother's breasts.
The name Visenya had been discussed. Along with both of their mothers' names, but Daemon and Naerys agreed that neither Alyssa nor Shaera suited the little girl before them. Naerys had not planned for a girl. She had been sure that the babe she carried within her those nine moons was a son.
“There is no need to think of names kepus. We shall name our son Aenys.” Daemon had not questioned her insistence though Naerys wished he had when out popped their little dragon and they could not think of a suitable name for her.
The name Daenys was settled on after Laena’s suggestion. “She looks like a Daenys.” Laena declared with a soft smile while looking down at the babe as she bounced her in her arms. Daemon had procured a golden dragon egg from Silverwings newest clutch. Placing the egg in the newly christened girl’s cradle. The Rogue Prince stood watch over his wife and daughter's bedside. Placing kisses upon their heads or taking a rough pale to gently stroke their cheeks. Both mother and child slept fitfully through the night.
Despite her exhausted state, Naerys refused for a wet nurse to be called. Birth was only half of a new mother's battle. The princess was determined to nurse her own daughter. Waking up to feed Daenys whenever she cried for her.
Dreams floated through Naerys' mind whenever she managed to drift off. A tangled web of children and dragons though she could never quite make out the fine details. Naerys had decided on their meaning and had told her husband so the next morning. They were dreams of future babes to come. Their future heir. Their next child would be a son. She was sure of it.
Nothing on this earth comes for free. Not even Targaryen’s were exempt from that fact. They paid for their dragons with the price of blood. Blood that made them mad with the delusions of Gods. Gods with no real claim to this land or the subjects they ruled over. Foreigners In a foreign land. Conquerors of flesh, blood, bone, and ashes. A price too high for many.
There had been four pregnancies after Daenys birth. Three miscarriages and one stillborn. Naerys body rejected each one. Each paid with the price of blood. The first three had ended too soon to tell the sex of their babe. Usually ending no later than the second moon of her pregnancy. They were little imperfect creatures. Some with no eyes. Others missing an arm. There was never enough to burn. Never enough for a proper Targaryen funeral.
It became numbing after a while. An expected pain for Naerys. One which Daemon had tried to shield her from. “You need to rest sweetling.” They had stopped trying for a year. Her husband had forced it. Three pregnancies in less than three years put a strain on one’s body. Maester Orlys brewed her a steady supply of moon tea. Her uncle watched her downing every bitter cup after one of the maids reported seeing her chucking the contents into her chamber pot.
He refused to bed her otherwise. Naerys in her shame had tried to bed her uncle after a night of drinking. Surely he would forget about the encounter if he was drunk enough. He had not. Daemon would not touch her for a fortnight.
When her moon blood came and went he returned, but he refused to bed her properly. Tongue fingers and unmentionable objects were used to bring her to a peak, but her uncle would not put his cock in her. It had been torture for them both. Naerys folded within a week with the reassurance that they could try again for an heir. The man had surprising willpower when it came to denying her what she most wanted in the name of her health. At the start of the new year, the moon tea was disposed of.
The last one had stuck around until the sixth moon. Naerys could feel the babe kicking. Just as strong as Daenys had been. Daemon had taken their daughter’s small little hand in his own much larger one and pressed it to her belly. The girl had beamed up at her and giggled with glee when she felt where her sibling lay. Babbling on in Valyrian to her growing bump.
They had journeyed to the capital for Princess Helaena’s tenth name day. Rhaenyra and Laenor were once again the ones to greet them upon their arrival. However, this time they were joined by their two “sons” along with their newest edition, the little Joffrey Velaryon.
“She’s a pretty little thing aunt.” It was said with the same smile Rhaenyra always greeted Naerys with. A strained smile that now extended to her daughter. “She doesn’t look anything like you uncle.” Rhaenyra had tried to greet Daemon with “kepus” when they had landed outside the Dragon Pit, but the man snapped at her.
“I am your uncle Rhaenyra. You may call me nuncle if you wish, but not kepus.” The crown princess had not uttered the Valyrian word for uncle again. Instead, she had taken to openly glaring at Naerys whenever she referred to Daemon as such. The younger princess paid her no mind. She had staked her claim. There was little Rhaenyra could do about her place in Daemon’s life.
“You are my kepus husband just as I am your wife. I have given birth to your daughter and I carry your son, your heir within me, not some Hightower knight’s.” It was breathed out into her husband’s ear as she sank her soaked folds down onto his waiting cock with practiced ease. Her husband pounded up into wetness leading them both into a blissful haze.
Daemon had forbidden her from riding Silverwing by the fourth moon of her pregnancy at the advice of Maester Orlys. Dragon riding alone was too strenuous for her already delicate constitution and small stature. However, that did not stop other arduous activities.
“Ao kostagon nykeēdrosa kipagon aōha tolie zaldrīzes byka mēre.” You may still ride your other dragon little one. Her uncle never let her take full control during “her rides.” Always seating her atop him, bouncing her in his lap while she clung to him, burying her silver coils into his neck and mouthing at the pale pockmarked skin there. The amorous sounds of the lover's coupling echoing throughout their chambers.
The prince was possessive, but so was his dear little niece-wife in her own way. Naerys could not stand the way Rhaenyra looked at Daemon with want while she spoke the word kepus to him. Daemon was her husband. The father of her children. Not Rhaenyra’s. All it took was one mention of Ser Gwayne whispered into her husband’s ear while his blood ran hot in the mist of their rapture to set things right.
“She’s quite the Valyrian beauty like her mother.” A look of pride was evident in the Rogue Prince's brow as he affectionately petted his daughter's chubby face. It was laughable to question the legitimate status of their daughter, but it was an offense that Daemon would not let pass.
Though she had inherited most of her mother’s looks, there was plenty of Daemon in Daenys. Daenys had her father’s violet eyes rather than her mother’s dark amethyst ones. When she smiled it mirrored Daemon’s infectious grin. The expressions the little princess made with it echoed her father’s.
“As I’m sure this one will favor his sire.” Daemon’s free hand that was not holding onto their daughter reached out to caress his wife’s belly. Rhaenyra could not take her eyes off it. Her face was rapidly paling as if she had seen a ghost. Naerys was reminded of her cousin's reaction to the news of their first pregnancy.
The color completely drained from Rhaenyra’s face at breakfast the morning after Jace’s name day feast. The crown Princess had to be prompted by her father to congratulate her uncle and aunt. After which Rhaenyra went to bed early claiming exhaustion from the festivities of the previous day. She did not see them off when they finally departed for Dragonstone.
Naerys could not help but shift around uncomfortably which did not escape her uncle’s notice. Her husband’s face began to redden with anger and it looked as if he might snap once more at his older niece, but Laenor hastily ushered his own wife into their carriage that would take them back to the Red Keep.
Where Rhaenyra treated her daughter with cold indifference her sons could not help but adore their little cousin. Jace and Luke were of an age with the young Targaryen princess as well as their cousins the Lady Strong’s, Baela and Rhaena. The fivesome could be found getting into mischief around the castle, giving their nursemaids and parents much grief. Naerys was happy for her daughter's enjoyment. Though she was exhausted from chasing after her daughter while six moons pregnant.
Alicent had advised her son’s to be kind to their little cousin, but they were less than enthused with Daenys. A fact that seemed to annoy Daemon, particularly when it came to Aemond’s opinion of their daughter. “That boy my brother calls his son is jealous of our little dragon.” The man had sworn that he had seen Aemond eyeing their daughter's dragon hatchling with envy.
Naerys did not doubt her husband's beliefs, but Alicent’s oldest sons were boys on the verge of manhood and Daeron was at an age where he wished to be like his brothers. It was only natural that they would not coo over a girl babe. Daenys herself did not suffer from a lack of attention from her uncle’s youngest children. Their sister more than made up for it.
Helaena had taken to dressing up Daenys as if she were her little doll. Parading her around the Red Keep while introducing her to the passing lords and ladies of court as “my little sister.” The younger princess had not minded being babied and doted upon by her elder cousin until she placed a spider in her hands while they had gone to watch the boys in the training yard. “Spiders are excellent judges of character sister. This one’s name is Willard. Say hello Willard.”
Daenys violet eyes widened in confusion. Flickering between her cousin's wistful face and that of the spider in her hand before she descended into wails. The training yard plunged into chaos at the sounds of her distress. Helaena’s septa, who was tasked with the care of the two young princesses, was a skittish mousy woman who was half scared of her charge and the pests she kept as company. The woman did little but add to the confusion of the episode with her shrieks all the while Helaena had tried to calm her cousin. “He is a friend sister. He means no harm!”
Ultimately it was Aemond who had “rescued” the little princess from harm. Taking the spider and releasing it back into the “wild.” As a result, Daenys began to follow Aemond around the castle calling him “Ser Knight.” Glued to him as if she was his shadow. Even going as far as making crude favors for the boy which he accepted with a strained smile under the watchful glare of his uncle.
Aegon laughed at the pair when he saw Daenys muddy skirts trailing after his brother hand in hand with her septa(Naerys had sent for the woman after the spider fiasco) in the training yard or when the princess moved her seat so as to be closer to her cousin.
Dubbing Aemond Daenys nursemaid with a chortle during their visit to the Dragon Pitt one morning. An act such caused Alicent’s middle son to turn beat red while the oldest son was pummeled by pebbles from Daenys who did not take kindly to “her knight” being mocked. Sporting a bruised cheek Aegon had apologized to his brother and Aemond became more agreeable to his small cousin toddling after him.
Daenys seemed to enjoy her time in the company of her cousins. That is she enjoyed the company of her cousins apart from the youngest of the bunch. Little Joffrey was a sweet babe, but Daenys was used to being doted upon even though she insisted she was not a baby herself. Daenys could often be found with a small scowl that rivaled her father's jealous gaze whenever Naerys lavished affection over her baby cousin.
“You will have to share me with your siblings one day my love.” Daenys was far used to being the only child around and as a result, was used to being admired above all else. The young princess had become spoiled. All she had to do was bat her silver eyelashes and mother and sire, Daemon especially, were all too keen to meet her requests.
She would not sleep in her room and would often make her way to her parent's door sometime during the night. Slipping herself into their bed under the guise that there were monsters under her own bed or that her chambers were too dark. She was attached to her parents at the hip and was far used to having both at her beck and call.
“Nyke jāhor daor.” I will not. It was said with a little frown and surprising conviction for a girl of only three name days old. Daemon had roared at their daughter's declaration. Calling her his little dragon while saying how she was like her mother. Naerys was less than amused.
“Aōha byka zaldrīzes gets ziry hen ao kepus daor issa.” Your little dragon gets that from you uncle not me. Daenys may have her mother’s looks, but she was truthfully her father’s daughter in temperament. Daemon had not gotten better at sharing his things. Lest of all his prized “possessions.” His daughter had inherited his possessive nature over her mother. Naerys' husband had not been able to deny it.
“Should she not be Lady Targaryen rather than Princess father?” It was the last day Rhaenyra and Helaena sat on each side of their father at the feast. Alicent was regulated to sitting after her daughter a slight to some, but Naerys saw that the Hightower woman almost looked happy to be sat away from her husband or further away from Rhaenyra. Perhaps it was both.
Rhaenyra made the appearance of being cordial to her babe cousin. She had realized that Daemon would not take kindly to his daughter being given the cold shoulder, but one did not have to look hard to see how she truly felt.
It was in the tight-lipped grins that never reached her lilac eyes or how she stared blankly at the small girl when she felt that no one was looking. Naerys tried to keep her daughter away from the crown princess, but the girl adored her cousins, even the bastards among them, and Rhaenyra was never far from her boys
The ailing king replied to his daughter’s inquiry as if she was oblivious. “She will be Lady of Dragonstone after my brother has gone to his grave Rhaenyra. As you will be queen after I have gone to mine. Gods willing it will not be anytime soon.” Rhaenyra fumed, but the matter would have been put to bed had not Ser Otto Hightower spoken.
“Should not one of your own sons inherit Dragonstone after Prince Daemon your grace?” The former hand of the king had been permitted to journey to the capital from Oldtown for his granddaughter's name day. The man had mostly kept to himself, but he was a practical man. Waiting to strike when the opportunity arose.
“If the babe is another girl or Gods forbid another-” Ser Otto had not been able to speak another word before Daemon flew from his seat across the table. Ordering for Dark Sister to be brought from their chambers. The dragon had awoken and the rest of the Great Hall had gone silent.
Everyone knew of the miscarriages. Maesters from the citadel as well as court had been called for. Dragonstone had become a revolving door of maesters, midwives, and healers brought back from as far away as Essos. Rumors flew from Dragonstone to Oldtown. No one said anything to Naerys face, nor Daemon’s lest they risk meeting the wrong end of Dark Sister or Caraxes, but she knew what a look of pity was when she saw it.
It was the king's words that put the ordeal to rest. “Choose your words carefully Ser.” It was said with gritted teeth. Viserys stood up clutching his dinner knife in his good hand while pointing it at his bewildered good father. “You will not speak ill of my niece nor my brother's children.”
The king sounded as exasperated as he looked when he turned towards his brother. “Sit down Daemon, Ser Otto knows his place. Let us enjoy the rest of this feast in peace.” Ser Otto did not breathe another word, nor did his gaze ever venture towards Daemon who appeared ready to strike at any moment, for the remainder of the feast, leaving early so that he was not caught unaware.
Naerys' labors began later that night. This time the princess awoke from her short slumber to blood pooling out from between her legs. Grand Maester Mellos as well Archmaester Orwyle were called for. Daemon flew to Dragonstone for Maester Orlys not fully trusting the maesters at court, but it was too soon. They all knew it. The babe was not supposed to arrive for another three moons. The birth was a blur. Over before Naerys could wrap her head around it. There was no joy to follow.
Their babe had been a girl. Smaller than Daenys had been, but just as beautiful. She would never open her eyes or wail out at being thrust into the world as her elder sister had. They named her Alyssa.
Naerys cradled her in her arms. She would not let the silent sisters take her. Stroking her pale cheeks as she sang lullabies to her babe. It was only after being administered dreamwine as Daemon held her were the sisters able to take Alyssa’s body away. There had been enough to burn this time. Naerys buried her head into Daenys neck when Daemon gave the command to lit the funeral pyre afire.
Daemon placed a cup of moon tea in front of her two moons later. Naerys wanted to try again. She was healed. They needed an heir. Her husband refused to bed her until she agreed to his demands. There could be no more children. He had meant it.
“Gaomagon ao daor jaelagon syt nyke naejot bare ao iā tresy? Iksin nyke daor sȳz enough syt ao valzȳrys?” Do you not wish for me to bear you a son? Am I not good enough for you husband? Naerys spat at him as she threw the cup at him. Daemon had not even flinched as some of the hot liquid splashed on his impassive face.
“Gaomagon ao daor jaelagon naejot glaesagon naejot ūndegon īlva tala riñar ābrazȳrys?” Do you not wish to live to see our daughter's children? Daemon held her in his arms as the weight of Naerys' despair came crashing upon her.
Naerys felt as if she was a helpless child as her husband wiped away her tears, rocking her back and forth as he did with Daenys when their daughter was in a foul mood. There had been so much loss in the past three years and yet she was willing to risk more. She had to.
Daemon called for her aunt and cousin to visit. “You could die, Naerys.” They had gone down to the beach. Resting on top of a piece of driftwood. Watching Laena chasing after her daughters and Daenys. The tide had waned. “Think of your daughter. Would you leave her alone in this world?”
“She would not be alone.” Daemon loved their daughter more than life itself. He would move the heavens and earth for her. Their little dragon would never be alone. The ache would dull and Naerys would become a distant memory, but Daenys would have her father. Daemon could always take another to wife. He had done so once. He could do so again, though Naerys hoped that his eyes would not land upon the one woman he had wanted all those years ago.
“She would not have you.” Naerys yielded once more. For six months at least. Another bargain Daemon accepted. The prince still needed an heir. She had seen the way her husband looked when they journeyed to the capital. Seen the way his eyes lit up with longing as he spared with one of the strong boys or Alicent’s sons. All men wished to have heirs. Her husband was no different though he claimed otherwise.
Daemon had taken to treating Naerys as his heir. He would perch her on his lap on Dragonstone’s throne during petition meetings. Explaining to her why he had made each decision. Depositing her on a nearby bench in their training yard as he spared with his men.
He had tried to give the girl a practice sword, but she threw it away with interest in favor of her dolls. Daenys had become his little shadow. Following his every move. The two were rarely seen without the other. Their daughter relished in the attention she received, but she was not a proper heir. A son was needed.
This would be her last pregnancy. Maester Orlys had warned her. Her body would give out if she were to have another one though it would likely never quicken on its own again. Daemon had taken to treating her as if she were glass. Their daughter had followed his lead. It could be suffocating at times. One or the other would constantly fuss about her. Though it was much more amusing to see the little Daenys order her mother about than her stern father. Naerys accepted it as the price she would pay for her babe.
“Lord Strong and Ser Harwin are dead.” Ser Vaemond wasted no time with formalities. Though he did lend a strained smile. He had arrived on Dragonstone at twilight one evening in the ninth of Naerys final pregnancy. Apart from the servants and Maester Orlys the castle was empty. Daemon and Daenys were out riding upon Caraxes around the island. They were due to arrive back any moment.
The two had been hesitant to leave her, but Naerys had convinced them otherwise. She had been experiencing false labors, but she was not due for a. Her maids rarely left her side in the absence of her husband. Even if her labors were to begin in earnest, the two would be called back to Dragonstone with enough time to spare.
“Rhaenyra has fled to my brother’s keep. Apparently, she and the queen had a disagreement.” They were always at odds. The two could not see eye to eye even if their lives depended upon it. “She’s brought those boys she calls sons with her.”
“They are her sons' uncle.” It did not matter who sired her cousin's sons. Rhaenyra gave life to her boys just as Naerys had given Daenys hers. No man, father or not, could change that. Children were children to a mother.
“You should see it. She’s more bereft than Laena.” Poor Laena. She had brought her daughters to Driftmark for peace and yet there would be none. Her husband, the father of her children, had died while she still stood to give birth to his last child. A child who would never meet their father. Naerys was not sad to learn of Ser Harwin’s demise, and even less sorry to hear of Lord Strongs, but she was sad for her cousin and her children.
“She has her rights.” Naerys sighed, placing a hand on her belly. The babe had made its presence known with a swift kick. Ser Harwin was the father of her sons as well. Her lover and a confidant of sorts. Rhaenyra should be able to grieve the loss of Ser Harwin as well as Laena. Truthfully Rhaenyra might have cared for the strong knight towards the end more than his wife had.
“To think that she is to be our queen after her idiot of a father departs this earth.” Ser Vaemond sneered with every word he spoke. Naerys bristled. She knew where this conversation was going. “You should be queen.” Vaemond had been her father's fiercest supporter. Aenys Targaryen was Baelon's eldest son. From an ill-fated union with her Velaryon grandmother, but a union that put him second in the line of succession after his own uncle's death.
When Naerys father died he had tried to push her mother on the issue, but she was too young and her mother far too fearful. She had fled from court taking Naerys back to Driftmark with her when her father had died. Shaera Velaryon had not trusted the council her good grandsire kept. “I should have never let your mother take you away from court.”
“I am no queen uncle, we both know that.” Naerys was a babe, younger than Daenys, when the great council had been called. Her claim had easily been pushed aside with a laugh in favor of her half-uncle. No one wanted a queen upon the Iron Throne, especially not one that still needed a nursemaid. Naerys had come to realize it was for the best. The Iron Throne was a curse she had been lucky to escape. “Why are you here?” The hour was growing late and Naerys was growing weary of where the conversation was heading.
“I remember when you were your daughter's age.” The umber man went to touch her belly. The babe let out another kick. This one was less active than his sister, but his kicks were just as strong. Naerys wanted to flick her uncle's hand away so that she may soothe the restless babe within but she dropped her own hand to the side. “Daenys is just as beautiful as her mother.”
“She’s four.” A betrothal was out of the question. Her uncle knew that. Even if Naerys agreed to it Ser Vaemond Velaryon could not have possibly come all this way for a union between one of her uncle’s grandsons and their daughter that would not be consummated for at least ten years. It was not up to her to decide her daughter’s fate anyway. The Velaryon knight wanted something else.
“Ser Otto Hightower has been reinstated as hand.” It was said innocently enough. Though one could never tell with the commander of the Velaryon fleet if it was a threat or a warning until his temper made itself known. Her uncle continued to stroke her belly.
“Otto Hightower is not a man to be trusted.” Another kick sharper than the rest. Naerys moved her hand to grip the painted table. Biting down on her lip to ease the discomfort. Her uncle had made a servant show him to Dragonstone’s map chambers when he arrived. The man wanted a stage for his theatrics.
“He is keen on seeing the rightful heirs sit atop both the Driftwood and Iron thrones.” Ser Vaemond finally removed his hand back to his person. Turning his violet gaze to the map in front of them. “Perhaps Dragonstone’s as well.” A warning and an offer. The first of many messengers to come.
Naerys knew the wants of a second son well. She had married one and grown up partly in the care of another. Otto Hightower, Vaemond Velaryon, and Daemon Targaryen were not really much different from one another. They all wanted to set themselves apart from their elder brothers. To carve out their own legacy so that their names may live on in the history maester’s diligently recorded.
The hand’s legacy was to be the Iron Throne. Or at least that is what he hoped for when he married his daughter to the king. In Ser Otto’s eyes, Rhaenyra was only supposed to be a placeholder until Viserys' son could be born from this union. The birth of Aegon should have changed the line of succession, but the king would not push aside his son for his beloved firstborn.
Rhaenyra remaining heir did not stop Ser Otto from wanting to seize the Iron Throne for his grandson. A want his daughter no doubt shared with him. It was Aegon’s birthright. Son’s come before their sisters no matter their birth order. Why would the king remarry if not to secure a son after him? Why break over a century of tradition for one woman? Why pass over scores of Targaryen women, Rhaena the Black Bride, Rhaenys, and Naerys herself only for the throne to land in the hands of an entitled woman? Viserys spat in the face of them all to ease his guilty conscience.
Naerys doubled over in pain, not from a kick, but from an unmistakable contraction. Leaning on the painted table she felt a steady stream of fluid trickle down her legs. The princess lifted up her skirts to reveal a dark puddle on the chamber’s stone floor. Just as the last one ended another wave of contractions arrived. Her labors had begun for the final time.
Birth was never easy. The birthing bed always posed a risk, but it was a woman’s war. A mother's burden. Death hung in the air ready to take both mother and child at the drop of a feather, but the reward, in the end, was worth it. To hear the cries of a squirming healthy babe made the pain bearable. Naerys had only been rewarded with that sound once. She was desperate to hear it once more.
A messenger from Driftmark had come while Naerys struggled to bring her babe into the world. Laena had gone into labor as well, but she and the babe had perished. Vaemond had tried to shush the man away but Naerys had heard. Her cousin had always been harder than her. Vivacious and full of life yet she had succumbed to her labors. What hope was there for her?
“Will she live?” Naerys did not know when Daemon had arrived back, but her husband stood pale and grave-faced at the door to their chambers with Maester Orlys. Speaking in hushed voices so as not to disturb her. The maester and the midwives had given up on telling her to push. It was a fool's errand at this point.
Naerys had neither the strength nor the energy left in her body to do so. She was exhausted. Each round of throbbing spasms that wrecked her body began to meld into one another. She could barely move. She could not tell her head from her hand. Feeling herself slowly drifting towards something unseen.
“No my prince, but the babe might.” Their heir might live. If he were to cut her open they might have a son, but there would be a price that would be paid. Naerys had been too young when her late aunt had died trying, but she remembered seeing the bloodied sheets.
“And if we do not?” Daemon’s violet eyes cast his gaze toward her. Naerys eyes felt another round of contractions radiating throughout her body. She could only whimper out in pain. Curling further into herself. The ache within her was overwhelming.
“She will live my prince.” The maester wavered at his next words. His dark eyes traveled past Daemon’s to land upon her belly. “But the babe will die.” They could not save both her and the babe. A choice was to be made. A sacrifice she was more than willing to make. For Daemon she would pay that price to bring their son into the world.
“Do what needs to be done.” Daemon’s voice was just as solemn as his face. Naerys had not thought of death truly until that moment. She was no stranger to death. Even when she was a girl death followed her around as if she was an old friend. Taking both her parents with him before she had known what life was.
Naerys had not known her father, but she remembered glimpses of her mother's face. Her laugh. Her smile. Soft brown hands that would lovingly braid her hair. “My daughter needs her mother and I need my wife.” She thought she had hallucinated what she heard until Daemon moved towards where she lay a writhing sweaty heap on their bed.
“Byka mēre.” Little one. Daemon placed his hand in hers lightly squeezing it. Naerys tried to return the grip but she failed. “Ao jāhor jorrāelagon naejot indigon skori pōnta ivestragon ao naejot” You will need to push when they tell you to. He kissed her forehead brushing away the sweaty coils that fell from her braid. Her uncle's face has been overtaken by grief.
Naerys in her hazy state spied a midwife handing a large set of clamps to the maester. They reminded her of giant spoons. “Kostilus issa dōna riña. Indigon syt issa.” Please my sweet girl. Push for me. His voice was strained. Daemon brought his forehead to her own as another midwife spread her legs apart.
The princess winced as she felt the cold metal of the clamps being pushed into her before coming to a stop at her babes head. She had to push. Just a little one, but she had to try. Her husband squeezed her hand once more. With the remaining strength left in her body, she made a feeble attempt at a push. After the first round, the pressure became too much to bear. Naerys felt herself fading into the abyss.
When she came to, she heard the babbling of Daenys and her septa in their solar. A reminder that the Stranger had seen fit to spare her. The linens had been freshly changed. The smell of death was gone from the room though an air of dolefulness lingered on.
Naerys placed a hand on her slowly deflating belly and turned her head to gaze upon the near empty crib that was placed near their chambers warming fire. Only a dark dragon egg their daughter had picked out lay in it. Heat for a dragon. A dragon that would remain unclaimed if it ever hatched
“Skorkydoso gaomagon ao feel byka mēre” How do you feel little one? Daemon’s melancholic voice broke her from her thoughts. Her uncle's eyes were bloodshot and his complexion resembled that of a ghost, but he gave her a small smile. Relief. He felt relief with every breath that his young wife still took.
Naerys felt sore and listless beyond belief. She knew that her breasts would begin to leak soon and she would more than likely be forced to drink some milk of the poppy for the dull aches she felt, but the physical reminders of birth did little to compare to the mental torment she felt inside.
“What was it?” She barely recognized the sound of her own voice. The croak it made did not belong to her. It could not have. It belonged to some other woman. Not her. Some broken little lifeless thing. Not a daughter of House Targaryen.
Daemon looked hesitant to answer. Shifting on the balls of his feet as he held his head down. He sighed before grabbing her hand. Bringing her willowy arm up to his thin mouth. Placing a kiss on the back of the smooth skin there. She knew what the answer would be, but she needed to hear it from his lips.
“Nykeā valonqar. Ziry gōntan daor botagon syt bōsa.” A boy. He did not suffer for long. Their child was gone. Their heir was gone before he could live. There would never be more children. No more babes to fill their halls. At least not from Naerys. She was not strong enough to birth a healthy son for her husband. She had never been.
“Nyke emagon qringōntan ao istin tolī.” I have failed you once more. Naerys let out a pained sob turning her head into her pillow. There was not much the Targaryen man could do but comfort his weeping wife. Joining her on their bed. Gathering her in his arms as he let her cry into his chest for their lost children. “Nyke emagon qringōntan ao se nyke kostagon daor tepagon ao tolī.” I have failed you and I can not give you more.
“Ao could dōrī qringaomagon issa dōna riña” You could never fail me sweet girl. Daemon rocked her as if she was a babe. Wiping away her tears and placing half-hazard kisses across her streaked cheeks. “Ao emagon given issa tolī than nyke gūrogon. Ao issi alive, bona iksos skoros matters.” You have given me more than I deserve. You are alive, that is what matters. Naerys was reminded of Daemon’s pleadings a year back. If only she had listened to him then. She could not turn back now.
Ao3 Link:
Tags:
@misssilencewritewell @parizparis @thanyatargaryen @i-love-morally-gray-characters @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @bubblebuttwade @m-indkiller @pearlstiare @beggarsnotchoosey @green-lxght
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im-not-a-l0ser · 4 months
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Did I ever show my latest laptop bag?
Ignore the grey stuff, that was stuff I tried to colour black over and it didn't really work
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If you're wondering how I did this, I used a white posca paint marker (or any other acrylic paint marker I suppose, I just don't recommend the industrial stuff) to draw the bases and stuff, and then coloured over it with sharpies.
Explanation of everything under the cut
Going clockwise from the left, we've got my Stranger Things and DnD quadrant: the Hellfire logo silhouette (I'm too afraid to colour it in), two D20s, a D8 I believe, and some little bats.
The top quadrant is my It section, which is the first one is did: with the classic lover thing, R+E from the kissing bridge, and a red balloon. I quite like the simplicity of that bit.
Onto the right quad, it's kinda random, it's just got the DW tardis Dr Who logo, and the symbol on the Black Book, which is the most recent thing I've added. At the top of the section, there's a few symbols that I tried (a squip pill, an acorn, two separate failed slurpees, and a star for hamilton) and then regretted and tried to colour over, but failed.
The fourth quadrant is much smaller, just the BMC creeps. Under that, and diagonal lines coming off each top corner, is Pac-Man type pathways. The bottom has Pac-Man, along with the ghosts Inky and Blinky. The left side has a strawberry and Pinky, and the right one has Clyde and cherries. Each path has the classic Pac-Man dots.
Underneath the four quadrants is the pocket of my laptop bag, where I've put the four card houses, plus a jester hat, with my pride flags. Starting on the left we have a classic rainbow pride flag heart, then a nonbinary club (clover), next an asexual spade, a trans diamond, and lastly a genderfluid jester had.
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theumbrellawoman · 1 year
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What do you mean this wasn’t what basically happened
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xxpeppermintxx109 · 7 months
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green lies, black hearts - chapter xxxiii
summary -
a lesson in avarice
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undeadchestnut · 2 years
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So, ah, I got all caught up with the Dragon Ball Super manga the other day and 😳
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kim dokja's constellations fighting to the (incredibly probable) end for him 🥺🥺
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kalolasfantasyworld · 3 months
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Noelle Silva
Valkyrie dragon armor
This is the art that I announced earlier 💙
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muffinlance · 1 year
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Scaled Over 3: The Golden-Eyed Girl
Latest chapter || Read from the beginning
The privateer had found the prize of the pile: a solid black molt, buried under the more common blues and grays of her people. He rubbed its edge between his thumb and forefinger.
“Younger than I thought, with how few of these make it to market. A teenager around the prince’s age should be shedding more. Is… he getting enough to eat? …She?”
“I’m sure they are,” Katara said, trying not to feel her own skin crawl. It wasn’t impossible to tell a dragon’s age from the thickness of their molts. Obviously. But it was a skill that required a fair bit of hands-on experience.
Story Summary:
At thirteen, Zuko knelt on the Agni Kai field and proclaimed himself his father's loyal son. But when fire touched his face, his dragon form begged to differ.
Dragon!Zuko AU.
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blueteller · 1 year
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Behold~! My Dodam Miru fanart! 🙌
I actually kinda like how it turned out! My first time drawing a dragon in detail! I'm so happy
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sweetestpopcorn · 5 months
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It f_cking happened
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pttucker · 5 months
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"I, the master of the Black Flame, Han Sooyoung, shall awake the Dragon of the ancient seal! Oh, the Constellation darker than darkness itself, oh, the abyss deeper than the flowing night…" She really didn't want to mutter out this chant even if she were to die, but with the situation being what it was, her lips began reciting it all by themselves. Her left arm reacted to her incantation and wiggled around; a Dragon's roar could be heard coming from a distant somewhere. "Here in this place, reveal yourself!" [Constellation, 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon', is getting ready for the 'Advent of Half-God'.]
Okay, Sooyoung's whole thing with the black flames and Abyssal Black Flame Dragon and the bandages on her hand/arm and just her overall power aesthetic has been giving me this vague sense of familiarity and now with this "let's summon an evil darkness dragon out of our arm as a last ditch effort that's definitely not a good idea" I think I just figured it out.
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thedawningofthehour · 8 months
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The challenges of trying to find snippets you KNOW you've written-but can't remember if you put it in your notes app. Or one of the emails you've sent to yourself. Somewhere in either of your scraps documents, one titles dothscraps and the other dothmaster, both well over a hundred pages and not organized in the slightest. One of the other documents that aren't chapter titles, including such descriptive names such as third29backup and third14forreal. Or one of the documents I named after whatever song lyrics were stuck in my head at the time, such as flashbamalakazam, which gives absolutely no insight into what the the writing inside contains.
I have no idea what I'm doing, guys.
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novadorks · 6 months
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finally finished orv after two years . . . what do i do with my life now
#started in junior year hs dropped it for a while then started reading again at the start of this semester and now im finally done !#dont know whether to cheer or just crumple up and start crying bc wow that was a ride#i thought the ending was tragic but then i moved on to the epilogue and oh my godd#the way kdj was crying and miserable bc he missed his companions and he wanted to be with them so Badly#but when kimcom finally Finally chase him down and come back to him theyre too late and hes already disspitated into other world lines#and after that like. whenever kdj pulls some shit and dies the next chapter always starts with an ‘i’#and hes back and alive and kicking and Thinking but after that epilogue chapter there isnt a chapter in his pov theres no more ‘i’s and.#it just made me incredibly sad bc we dont get to see his pov ever again bc hes truly gone unless we as a reader can imagine him alive again#anyways sad things aside it is Incredibly funny that lee hyunsung just became a wanted man in the 1865th round lmaoo#+ uriel sun wukong and black flame dragon forming a band together ??? truly the most randomest thing in the epilogue#++ yoohankim need to stop beating the shit out of e/o and learn to talk their feelings out Please#+++ sooyoung’s love for dokja has me miserable o-|-< she would wait for him an eternity write for him an eternity im so sad#three times she endlessly wrote a novel for him to read three times she waited to see him for so long <//3#you bet im imagining the happiest conclusion i can for them#they WILL live happily ever after in that big house together as long as i have something to say about it!#orv
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hourly-yugi · 1 year
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usagirln120 · 5 months
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Crossover Hogwarts AU
A crossover Hogwarts AU consisting of Boku no Hero Academia, Corpse Party, Danganronpa, Encanto, Fairy Tail, Haikyuu!!, How to Train Your Dragon, It, Kimetsu no Yaiba, Miraculous Ladybug, Naruto, One Piece, Shingeki no Kyojin, Stranger Things, The Black Phone, The Owl House, The Quarry, Until Dawn and Yakusoku no Neverland.
Accepts ask about this AU.
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