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moonlisid · 1 year

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THE CONQUEROR'S CROWN

MASTERLIST | Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4

GIF CREDIT

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x FemOC!Velaryon (Strong)

Summary: The secret of their relationship is out in the worst time possible, but Visaella does not seem to care. Drown into her own madness, the rage of her grief blinded her and left her thirsty for vengeance. Now she will not rest until she gets her revenge.

Tags/TW: death of multiple characters, blood mention, murder, angst, sexual content (nothing too explicit), death threats, grief, mentions of forced marriage, typical sexism of the time, visaella lost her mind, insanity (?), violence, cursing, aegon is emotially attached to the oc, if there's anything else, pls let me know!

Author's Note: we reached the end. everything that is written with cursive are memories, just so you know. firstly, i'm sorry. secondly, the gif is how i imagined Visaella while writing the story, but you are free to picture her as you wish. thirdly, perhaps i will write some blurbs about the happy moments between these two bc it will be a closure to me lmao. lastly, thank you for reading this story and enjoying it as much as i enjoyed writing it, i hope the end make justice to the rest of the story.

Word Count: 16.1k

Taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @clairacassidy @alexandra-001 @stormgirlfriendd @kravitzwhore @poppyflower-22 @bellameshipper

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Two tired and sweaty bodies were laying on top of a big blanket in the middle of the woods. They were smiling and throwing breathless laughs to the air, exhausted and overwhelmed. They were lost, living in their own world as they usually did whenever they were alone. The fire beside them made them feel warm so their naked bodies did not feel an inch of cold.

Anyone can start again Not through love, but through revenge. Through the fire, we're born again, Peace by vengeance brings the end.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Aegon turned in order to kiss her delicately, muttering sweet words against her lips, touching the soft skin of her legs while suspiring, utterly enamored by the girl under him. He leaned back afterwards, only to see her rosy cheeks and glossy lavender haze. A soft smile was made on her face once he saw the messy hair of her lover, produced by her own hands. They were like that for a couple minutes, with silly smiles decorating their faces while staring at each other with complete devotion.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“I never thought we would be able to do this outside the castle.” Aegon confessed, biting his lip trying to hide his excited smile. “I thought I wouldn’t see you until my father’s next name day.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“But here we are.” She said, “Together, and alone. And for the first time, without being scared of someone finding us.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“You’re a genius, my love.” He left multiple kisses on her face, she chuckled due to the tickles his soft peachy lips produced. “How did you even find this place?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“I saw it on the map on Dragonstone.” She shrugged, “Then, one day, I took Vermithor here and found that cave where he perfectly fits with Sunfyre. It’s right in the middle of Dragonstone and King’s Landing, and far from the Kingsroad. It’s perfect.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“It is as if the Gods gifted this place to us.” He spoke with a dreamy voice. Visaella nodded, tangling her legs between her lover’s.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“I guess we should thank them.” She muttered, kissing him once again.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Aegon cupped her face, starting to leave subtle kisses all over it. Her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks, her forehead, her lips. Every single part of her face was kissed by him while she only could hum and whimper delicate words to him.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He pulled away and stared down at her, his eyes glistening with a glow that she had never seen in another man's eyes, but she liked the way it made her feel.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“What?” She asked teasingly.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Aegon shook his head softly,

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“I don’t think I'm ever going to get tired of seeing your face.” Aegon whispered. The silence of the night was only interrupted by the sound of his voice, and the breathing of the two large dragons inside the cave; Vermithor and Sunfyre. “You are too beautiful.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Visaella just laughed, and Aegon fell in love with her all over again. It was such a magical sound, so special and unique. It was the most beautiful sound in the entire world, he was sure of it.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“You are too kind, my sweet prince.” The girl said, wrinkling her nose and brushing Aegon’s hair with her fingers. “I would bet there are a thousand girls who are more beautiful than I am, and I can assure you that because I’ve been witness to their beauty.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Aegon’s mouth dropped in a gesture of offense, frowning.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“Are you confessing to eyeing other women, my love?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“Of course I do,” She shrugged, and Aegon started to kiss her collarbones. “And I know you do it too.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“Why would I spend my valuable time seeing other women when the most perfect one is already mine?” He muttered against her skin, marking her neck and leaving wet kisses that made her sigh. “It’s nonsense.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“You are lying.” She raised her torso, leaning on her forearms, getting closer to Aegon’s lips and kissing them softly before he went back into marking her breasts. “You are a liar.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“I’m not lying.” His tongue swirled around one of her nipples before going lower to her stomach. Visaella bit her lip. “I have eyes only for you. You’re the only woman that I will ever worship.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“Worship?” She asked teasingly, looking down at Aegon’s face buried on her abdomen, filling her with kisses and soft bites. “I’m no goddess for you to worship me.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“Of course you are.” His lips started to mark trails down her hips, each time he would get closer to her core. “And I will always be on my knees for you.” He gave a soft kiss on the inside part of her thighs, making her shiver under his touch. “Now, let me prove how well I can worship my goddess. Let me serve my queen.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her head fell back the instant she felt his warm mouth against her. Aegon hummed against her wet skin after feeling her sweet taste. She opened her eyes, putting her gaze on the darkened sky that was the only witness of their love.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“Visaella.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The princess was too lost in her memories to even notice her step-father’s voice calling her. The ring on her heart finger was spinning around it while she stared at it with lost eyes; the black band covered with beautiful rubies was the only memory of Aegon she had on her. She tried to get rid of it by throwing it at the wide and open sea, but she could not bring herself to do it.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“Visaella.” Daemon repeated.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The eyes of the girl looked up and saw all the lords looking at her, expecting an answer for whatever they might have been talking about. Jacaerys was at the other end of the table, staring at her with worried eyes. Visaella lifted her chin and quickly hid her hand behind her back, as if she was embarrassed to show the ring decorating her finger.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Pardon me, my lords.” She said, clearing her throat and putting on a smile. “I’m afraid my mind has been a bit lost these last hours.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Your grace, I was expecting an answer from you.” Lord Corlys said, “The fleet will be ready to sail on the morrow from Driftmark to King’s Landing.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Remember that the fleet must arrive after me.” She indicated looking at the giant map carved on the table. “We need to make it appear as if I’m there to bend the knee in the name of my mother. Otto will be the first one to die if everything goes to plan.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Perhaps you should send the fleet at least an hour before Your Grace leaves on Dragon back.” Daemon indicated. “Or, we can find a place to hide near King’s Landing to settle while you go on your fleet.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Isn't it too risky to get closer to King’s Landing?” A lord asked. It was Lord Tully. “With all due respect, your Grace, I think two large dragons are not quite easy to hide.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ But they were. Visaella knew about it because she had been witness to it before. She knew it was possible to hide a dragon, because she knew the perfect place to do so; a site that was full with memories that she would rather forget.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “There is a place.” Visaella spoke, walking around the table. The men moved to let her walk freely. She grabbed a wooden symbol of a dragon and put it on top of the part of the map where it said Duskendale. “The woods of Duskendale.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Daemon looked at Visaella with an raised eyebrow, remembering that name from the letter she had written to Aegon a few nights ago. She just ignored his judgemental stare and looked at the rest of the guards and lords in order to keep explaining herself,

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “There is a cave between the shore and the woods.” She explained. “Large enough to fit at least three adult dragons. Vermithor being one of them.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “And the other one?” Jacaerys asked, curiously.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella just ignored the question and kept talking, “The woods is right in the middle between Dragonstone and King’s Landing, besides it is also quite close to Driftmark and far enough from the Kingsroad. It is the perfect spot.” Her eyes looked down in the instant those words came out of her mind, having instant flashbacks.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “It is decided then.” Lord Corlys, concluded. “On the morrow, Your Grace and Prince Daemon will fly with their dragons towards Duskendale, our fleet will take all the armies toward the place and then, when the time arrives, we’ll begin the attack to the Greens.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “That sounds perfect.” Daemon complimented, “Although, I’m afraid we aren’t thinking about something important. Who kills the beast?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What beast?” Visaella asked.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Vhagar is a threat to all of us.” Daemon warned, “We cannot risk being attacked by her, we would lose.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “There is no need to kill Vhagar. Besides, killing a dragon of her size is almost impossible for a common human being.” She said, “Killing Aemond will be enough to get rid of her, she would be a riderless dragon.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Then we need to avoid Aemond from going to Vhagar.” Jacaerys added, “Leave that to me, I will kill him-”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “No.” The eldest daughter said, “Alicent, Aemond and Helaena will be killed under my command, they will die with the flames of Vermithor as traitors to the crown. Leave them to me.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What about Aegon?” Daemon asked.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella looked at the table for a minute, brushing her fingers against the wood and taking a deep breath. She turned around to see the older man,

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I will kill Aegon with my bare hands.” She decided, “You can have the rest if you like, I heard you’ve had some tense encounters with Ser Criston, you can kill him if you want. I do not care about him.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What about me?” Jacaerys asked, “What am I supposed to do?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You are staying here, in Dragonstone.” His older sister informed him. He was about to complain, but she spoke first. “You are my heir now, Jacaerys. Me going to King’s Landing is a big risk as it is, I will not allow you to go too.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “But I have a dragon, Ella. I- I can help you, I want to help you.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You will help me by staying here, by protecting our home.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The boy was ready to keep insisting on the subject, ready to give a reasonable argument to make her change her mind, but he was interrupted by the words of his grandsire,

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Your grace,” Lord Corlys spoke again, taking all the attention. “That is a matter we must talk about.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What matter?” She asked.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Your line of succession.” Visaella clenched her jaw, and she gave Daemon an uncomfortable look, trying to search for help. He only looked down at his feet, avoiding her eyes. “You are not married, and you need an heir.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Her hand unconsciously reached her stomach, specifically where her womb was located. She thought about the hundred times when Aegon promised her to give her a child as beautiful as her. She dreamt about it almost every night that now the thought of having a family with any other person feels wrong, even after everything that has happened.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Jacaerys is my heir.” She clarified. “And after Jacaerys comes Joffrey, or Jacarys’ future children. I have four alive brothers, my lord. I suppose the line of my succession is not at risk.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You need a son.” He said, “Or a daughter.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “And what are you planning to do about it?” Daemon jumped into the conversation, looking at him with a serious semblance, “She is not married, and at least you have a proper suitor, I don’t think there will be any children from her any time soon.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What about Prince Jacaerys?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella felt her body tense, and her breathing stopped for a second. She looked up at her brother who was already staring at her with widened eyes and his frown slightly wrinkled. The princess later laid her eyes on Lord Corlys, glancing at him with a clearly incredulous face.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What?” Daemon was the first to speak, also shocked by the proposal.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Targaryens have been marrying between brothers and sisters long before the conquest of Aegon.” He explained, “If I remember correctly, Prince Daemon, even your parents were brother and sister, were they not?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “They were.” He agreed, reluctantly. “But Jacaerys is already betrothed.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “A betrothal is just words, there’s nothing done yet. We can call off the betrothal and marry him to Your Grace.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The fact that they were talking about her as if she was not in the room listening to their words made her furious. Other Lords started to agree with the idea, and Visaella felt sick with just the thought of marrying Jacaerys. She could not do it, and she will not.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I don’t think it is a good idea.” Visaella said, “Jacaerys is my heir either way, I don’t see the need to marry.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You need children, Your Grace.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What about Cregan Stark?” Daemon proposed, “His wife passed away a few years ago.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “He already has children of their own.” Lord Corlys said. “I insist, the best option right now is to marry you both in order to continue the line of succession.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “That’s enough.” Visaella stopped them before any other person could keep adding reasons to defend the matter. “I will not stand here, hearing how a bunch of men talk about what is best for my reign by trying to sell me away to a husband I do not need.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Your Grace-” Ser Corlys said, but she cut his words.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “We shall talk about this matter once I become queen.” Visaella answered fastly, “There is no need to worry about those foolish things now when I don’t even have a crown to claim my rightful position.” Her voice sounded angry and annoyed, Lord Corlys nodded, “Once I sit in the Iron Throne we will discuss my succession. You’re all dismissed.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Not wanting to talk any more about the matter, she left the council room and walked away. Ser Erryk, as loyal as always, followed her lead. She was heading towards the beach, finding that bench where she used to sit and watch Lucerys train against Jacaerys. Ser Erryk gave her the space that she needed, standing a few feets away from her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She sat there, releasing a big amount of air that was trapped in her lungs. She looked down at her shoes, playing with the sand under them. The sound of the waves felt empty without the voice of Lucerys. Everything felt empty without him.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She tried not to look forward, knowing that the memories of her brothers training would come to her mind only to make her cry. Visaella allowed herself to let go a couple of tears, she needed to find some kind of relief from all this agony that had been inside of her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Baela left with the boys.” A male voice informed behind her back. “Although Joffrey insisted on traveling on his own dragon.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Now they are safe.” She was quick to brush off the tears that had fallen onto her cheeks, looking up to find her brother’s face. “Thank you.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jacaerys sat on the empty spot beside her sister and looked at the waves crashing against the shore. Visaella just went silent, not knowing what to say. She could perceive how Jace wanted to say something, but the words were struggling to come out of his mouth.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Ella, I- I’ve been trying to find the right words to talk to you since I came back.” He spoke softly.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Talk about what?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jacaerys tilted his head, looking at her with a softened haze, “About Lucerys… and mother.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “And what do you want to say about it?” She shrugged, “He’s gone now. He’s not coming back, neither is our mother.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “It’s not good that you keep all those bad feelings to yourself.” He grabbed her hand, trying to comfort her. “I saw what you did to those men, Ella. It wasn’t their fault, they-”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You know nothing, Jace.” She chuckled with sarcasm, “Those men made me lay in bed, unable to go to Storm’s End in Lucerys’ place. It should’ve been me, not him!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What did you do?” He asked, “Why did they try to stop you?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “It does.” He insisted, “What are you hiding?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Nothing, just leave.” She muttered.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I will not. Tell me.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Jace…” She begged, “Please, stop asking questions.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You never tell me anything.” He spoke, hurted. “You barely speak to me. I know your relationship with Lucerys was different, but I really hope we can live through this grief together… she was my mother too, he was my brother too.” His eyes started to get teary with threatening tears, Visaella’s gaze softened, “Right now, right here, we are every we have left. We need to stick together.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “And what do you want me to do?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I want you to, at least, be honest with me.” He brushed his tears from his face with a careless gesture. “Please, tell me what is going on with you.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She knew he was right. In that instant, there was only them left. There was no point in hiding the truth from him, no use in lying anymore. One of the biggest regrets was the fact that she did not tell Lucerys the truth before he was gone, he deserved to know it.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ And now she realized that Jacaerys also needs to know.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She nodded slowly, understanding what she needed to do. However, she was having an incredibly hard time in finding the words and sorting out her own thoughts to give him the news. A part of her knew that there was a big possibility of Jacaerys starting to hate her for it, but it was the right thing to do, so she just tried,

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I had a thing… with- uhm, with Aegon.” The words were crashing against each other, but Jace was able to understand.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “A thing?” He asked, confused. “What do you mean? Like a- like a rivalry or-?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “We were together, Jace.” She interrupted him, “In the same way that our mother was with Daemon, in the same way Lord Corlys is with Princess Rhaenys. We were-” She stopped herself before finishing the sentence and corrected herself. “I was in love.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jacaerys leaned back, straightening his posture and looking at her with astonishment, as if he had not understood what she had said. Visaella did not look him in the eye, too embarrassed to even dare to look up, and too scared to face him. She was staring at their hands.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Ella…” Jacaerys whispered, “Since when?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Since Aemond’s accident, I think.” She shrugged, “I don’t know, I don’t remember.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You’ve been with him for six years?” His voice was demonstrating how shocked he was, it was a bit funny how his expression would change so quickly, “Why? How?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I don’t know.” She shook her head.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “That’s why those men took you, right?” Jacaerys asked, “You were going to see him and that’s why you were treated as a traitor.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella nodded, “Perhaps, if I hadn’t been so blinded by the love that I had for him, none of this would’ve happened.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Why would you say that? It’s not your fault.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “He always told me he didn’t want anything related to being King. He even told me that the only reason why he hasn’t escaped yet is because he wanted to escape with me.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “And did you want that?” He asked.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I thought about it… multiple times.” She confessed, “Everytime he would say those things, I would spend the entire night thinking about escaping with him to Essos.” She laughed, but it was a bitter one. “Now that I think about it, perhaps it was all an invention in order to take me out of the picture and steal the throne. Aemond has always wanted it.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “It’s a bit shocking, if I’m honest.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You didn’t see it coming?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I mean,” He chuckled, “Sometimes I would catch him staring at you from head to toe, but I thought he was only being a pervert.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Well, I don’t blame you. He has quite the reputation.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Both siblings went silent once again. Their hands were still tangled while Visaella was caressing him with her thumb, just how she used to do with Lucerys whenever he –or herself– was anxious or nervous. It was a small gesture that brought both of them lots of comfort. It appeared to work with Jacaerys too.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You will kill him now?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jacaerys voice sounded so soft and low, it was barely audible and easily blended with the sound of the sea. That question brought a hundred of emotions to Visaella, who only managed to mumble some words.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I guess I’ll have to.” She muttered. “He is the usurper. He stole my mother’s birthright.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “But will you be able to do it?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I really hope so.” She bit her lip, nervously. “I trust in the rage I feel, that it will not let me get blinded when I see him.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Let me go with you.” He begged, “I will help you, I swear.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You will be more useful here, Jace. Taking control of Dragonstone, this place cannot be left alone in case they decide to fly over here.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Ella, please-”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I can’t lose you too, Jace.” She spoke harshly. He frowned his lips looking down at his shoes, “It’s enough with Lucerys and with mother, you cannot leave too. You already said it, it’s you and me right now. We are all we have left.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What if you don’t come back? Then what will I have left?” He raised her voice, “The boys are too little to even understand what is going on, how am I supposed to live with that burden by myself?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Then what? Do you want me to stay here and send Daemon alone?” She scoffed, “To leave my own army on their own? No way.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I want you to take me with you, I want to fight by your side. We are siblings is what we are supposed to do.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “It has already been said, Jacaerys. Enough with that.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella stood up, but her brother’s hand grabbed her wrist, making her stop. She turned around and saw the sadness in his eyes, which caused a slight pain on her chest.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I sent Lucerys to Storm’s End.” He said, Visaella’s heart stopped, reviving all her inner pain. “Lucerys is dead because I wasn’t there to protect him. Mother is dead for the same reason.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Jace-”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Please, at least let me protect you.” He begged, “Please, Visaella.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The girl stared at him with the same look as him; one filled with sorrow. She frowned her lips, thinking about what is the right thing to do on that occasion. His begging eyes reminded her of Lucerys’, and then it was impossible for her heart to deny something to him.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She nodded, and Jacaerys hugged her tightly. She felt the pain of her inner wounds, but she decided to ignore it. She hugged him back, stroking his hair and closing her eyes. She felt his tears falling on her shoulders, and his soft sobs were not easy to ignore.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jacaerys was everything she had left right then.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You’re going to spill the wine inside the tub!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella laughed, her vision was already blurry due to the effect of alcohol on her body. Aegon hid her face in the crook of her neck, chuckling softly. “Aegon, stop- You’re making a mess!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Pardon me, my love.” He said between laughter, leaving a delicate kiss under her ear. “I feel a bit dizzy.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Give me that,” She said, grabbing his cup and filling it with wine. She stole a sip from it before giving it back to him. “There you go, my sun.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Aegon grabbed her and hugged her tightly against his chest, loving how intimately it felt to have her bare skin against his. Visaella leaned her head back, resting on his shoulder. Aegon started to leave soft strokes on her belly, sighing in her ear.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “How I wish I could be here forever.” He muttered, “All my problems would be solved if you were here with me every day.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella could not help but smile, “Soon we’ll get lucky enough to do it.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What if we don’t?” He asked, his voice sounded worried. “My mother is quite eager to marry me off with Helaena.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She turned around, making a mess on Aegon’s bedroom floor. He chuckled after hearing the water splashing against the carpet, and his smile only widened once he saw her face staring at him. She sat on his lap, and soon he was touching the skin covering her waist and hips. Visaella started washing his hair with care, being completely careful and loving. Aegon started to hum without even noticing it.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Don’t be so pessimistic, my sun.” She said while pouring water on his platinum hair. “We will be able to be together one day. We’ll just have to wait a bit.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “How long?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “My eighteenth nameday is a few moons away.” She thought a bit, “Perhaps, you can come to Dragonstone with that excuse and present to my mother your wish to marry me.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I don’t like waiting.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I know you don’t.” She laughed, “But be patient for me, please?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Aegon pouted his lips before nodding. Visaella smiled and kissed him gently, tasting the flavor of wine in his mouth. He held her tight, caressing her back and playing with her wet hair strands.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I love you.” He whispered against her lips.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella rubbed her nose against him, making him chuckle. “I love you too, my sweet prince.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The princess took a big breath once her head was out of the water. Her hands quickly went to her face, brushing off the hair strands that were covering it. She looked around her room and she found an empty bed. She looked through the window at her side and noticed that the sun was already up in the sky, announcing the arrival of a new day.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She felt the coldness of air on her shoulders and she hugged herself for a couple of minutes. Lately, every single action has been a reminder of something that she has done with his company; even a simple activity such as taking a bath would be enough to see his face once again. He was carved in her memory, and there was no way to escape from him.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella stood up from the bathtub, covering her naked body with her silk robe. She let her hair loose afterwards, and started to brush it in front of a mirror seeing the water dripping from her head to the floor.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Soon, she got dressed, and she did not wear her typical attires; she wore a black vest that was covered with metal details imitating the scales of a dragon, it was hard material that shielded her whole torso and shoulders, along with black leather pants. It was similar to her rider’s clothes, but this had way more protection.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Later, a maid braided her hair enough to leave her face uncovered. Then she gave her something to eat; it would probably be the first and last meal of the day, so she enjoyed it as much as she could. Perhaps it would be her real last meal.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ After finishing it, and before leaving her room, she looked at the ring on her finger, and she made it spin around it. She thought about letting him there, in some random place inside of her chambers. Instead, she just put it back on her heart finger and left the room with her scabbard around her hips, which had her sword and two daggers.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ser Erryk received her in the hallway, bowing his head in a subtle move.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Your Grace, Prince Daemon is waiting for you in the dunes along with Prince Jacaerys.” He informed her, “The dragons are ready and the fleets have already left for Duskendale woods.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella stopped walking and turned to him, looking confused. “Why are you still here, then?” She asked, “Shouldn’t you be in one of the ships, leading an army?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Prince Jacaerys commanded me to stay here, protecting the castle.” He replied.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Nonsense.” She shook her head, “You will be my Lord Commander, they need to see you there.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Prince Jacaerys-”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I don’t care what Jacaerys said.” She interrupted him, “Ser Erryk, you are my most loyal guard, I will need your presence in the battlefield. You're coming with me.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She started walking again, but soon the guard’s voice made her stop. “But, your grace, all the ships are gone.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You’ll be riding Vermithor with me.” She said, shrugging as if it was not a great thing.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Your grace, I don’t think I could-”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Grab your sword, Ser Erryk, we need to hurry.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She ordered him, and the man only nodded and followed her trace. People would bow whenever she passed by them, they would stop doing whatever they were doing only to do that small action. Visaella did not like it, she did not feel like a queen yet. She barely lets them call her ‘your grace’, and it was only because Daemon persuaded her by telling her she was now representing their leader.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She managed to see the three dragons and the dragon’s keepers holding them in their place. Jacaerys was talking with Daemon, who seemed to be giving orders and explaining something. Both men turned around to see her, but only Jacaerys smiled while Daemon only bowed his head as a greeting.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella walked towards Vermithor, and started to caress his bronze scales. Her head leaned against his and she whispered, “Rytsas, ñuha pazavor valītsos (Hello, my loyal boy.)” Vermithor sighed as a response, “Kessa sagon iā bōsa tubis (It will be a long day)”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “He is very fond of you.” Daemon spoke behind your back. “He is a loyal dragon, not everyone can have that. ”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “He is.” She agreed, “I’m lucky to have him.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Daemon’s hand fell onto her shoulder. She looked at him, and he smirked. It was the first time since the day of the feast that she felt some comfort in him; perhaps it was because he was the only parental figure left in her life, and she felt like she needed some kind of guidance in her life from now on; a guidance that he could provide.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Your mother and Lucerys would be proud of you.” He said, Visaella haze softened. “I am proud of you.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Why?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He laughed, as if she had just asked something terribly obvious.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Look what you’ve done.” His hand cupped her face and she did not feel the need to take a step back in order to stay away from his touch. She thought it was rather reassuring. “You are eager to defend your mother’s legacy until your final breath. You finally opened your eyes and saw the Greens for what they truly are; a group of traitors that deserve their punishment.” He spat the last words with rage, while a grin filled with disgust crossed his face. It faded as soon as he looked at her again. “You will be a great Queen, Visaella, as long as you don’t let your feelings blind you.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She nodded, as if she was wordlessly promising him to follow his advice. And then, Daemon hugged her tightly. It was an odd action coming from him, but she doubtfully accepted the gesture by patting his back.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ When they separated, Visaella looked at her side, seeing Jacaerys staring at them with a confused expression on his face. He quickly walked towards them, and stood beside them trying to find some explanation.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Did something happen?” He asked, addled about the prior scene he had witnessed.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “No, everything’s fine.” Visaella answered. The boy looked at Daemon and then looked back to her sister.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Why is Ser Erryk coming?” He pointed to the man, “I told him to be here protecting the castle.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I told him to come with us,” She replied, “He is my Queensguard, my most loyal guard. I need him in battle with me, not here.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Then who will stay to protect Dragonstone?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I sent a raven to your grandmother Rhaenys.” Daemon stepped in the conversation, “She will settle here along with Baela. Meleys and Moondancer will be guarding it, with a small group of guards.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Problem solved.” Visaella muttered, “Now, stop wasting time, we should leave before it gets late.” She ordered. Daemon and Jacaerys immediately obeyed, walking to their dragons. “Ser Erryk, it is time!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The knight walked towards the dragon with care, too scared to even stare at it. He saw how Visaella just caressed his scales while using a rope ladder to climb onto the black and golden saddle on top of Vermithor’s back. Ser Erryk reluctantly followed her path and nervously climbed onto the dragon, seating behind the princess.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Vermithor stood up when his rider gave him the instruction to do it, “Sōvētēs, Vermithor.” He shook the sand off of his body in a harsh movement that did not even alter the princess, but terribly frightened the brave guard. He gave two steps before starting to fly in the direction of a very well known place for him; the woods of Duskendale.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ During the whole flight, Ser Erryk did not say a word, too terrified to even move. The landing was the worst part; due to his big size, Vermithor was not so delicate, so he always had a hard time arriving on the ground. Visaella was already used to it, but Ser Erryk almost fell.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “How was the trip, Ser Erryk?” Daemon teased him while he was getting off the dragon, smiling mockingly at him. The knight did not answer him, and Visaella rolled her eyes.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The three dragons were kept in the cave resting. Visaella looked around, feeling an uncomfortable sensation in her gut. Thousands of memories came to her mind and it made her shiver.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Lord Corlys was arriving at the shore once they got to the cave, and a few hours later, they joined them to rest and eat before the big attack on King’s Landing.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella was starting to get anxious, a bit nervous too. The pressure might be too much for her, but she knew it was too late to regret the decisions she had made; the day could end on her death or with her being the queen of the Seven Kingdoms, no inbetween.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The idea of having Jacaerys by her side brought her some comfort. He was sitting on a trunk beside her while eating a piece of deer one of the guards had hunted. He was looking around, moving his legs nervously; Visaella put a hand on his leg trying to calm him down, Jacaerys looked at her with his mouth filled with meat.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You are nervous.” Visaella claimed, “We will be okay.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I know that,” He said with difficulty, trying to swallow the food in his mouth,”It’s just I’ve never been in battle before, what if I do something that costs our lives?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “No need to think about those things, Jace.” She tried to smile, but nothing came out on her face. “We will do fine, we will win this. I promise you.” Jacaerys nodded and he smiled at her. The sweetness of his gesture reminded her of Lucerys and she got teary eyes almost immediately.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ When the sun started to set, everybody started moving. The ships were ready to sail, the dragons were fed and it was almost time for the attack to start. Daemon was busy giving orders and revising the plans and strategies with Lord Corlys and Ser Erryk, while Visaella was walking around, trying to compose herself before exploiting.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She walked away from the big group, around the trees and the bushes. She leaned against a tree while trying to take deep breaths of air, a knot formed on her stomach and suddenly she felt overwhelmed; as if she had just realized what she was about to do. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, she felt her heart fastened so her hands grabbed the tree behind her, in an attempt to feel the texture of its trunk and get distracted by it. It barely worked.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She opened her eyes and saw the sky. The stars were starting to come out, she counted them. Aegon always used to say that whenever he was feeling overwhelmed about anything he would count the stars to relax. So she did, and she felt her breathing starting to regulate.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She looked at her hands for the millionth time and saw the ring on her finger; she took it off.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The ring started to spin between her fingertips while her eyes looked at it, observing every detail, color and relief in it. She clenched her jaw, knowing that the ring was everything he had left of the memories she shared with Aegon. She thought about throwing it away for many days now, thinking that it would be better if she could get rid of every piece of him. Perhaps, it would be easy to move on that way.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She saw a hole in the tree behind her, it was small and it was empty. She looked at the ring for the last time before putting it inside. The memories of Aegon will be staying there, in the place where they used to freely show their love towards each other.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It was the right thing to do, she thought.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Ella!” Jacaerys' scream made her jump. She moved her head to see between the trees, and Jacaerys was moving his arm in order to catch her attention. “It’s time, we’re leaving!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She saw the ring shining inside the tree’s hole, she covered it with some dirt to avoid someone else to see it and then she walked back towards her brother. Jacaerys was beside Vermax, caressing him while seeing his sister approaching with a fastened pace. His eyes widened with surprise when she hugged him tightly. She closed her eyes and buried her face on his shoulders. He did nothing besides hugging her back.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Ella-”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Please, be careful.” She muttered against his shoulder, “I beg you, please, be safe out there.” Her voice sounded shaky, as if she was trying not to cry. “If you see things getting complicated, I need you to promise me you will fly to the Eyrie to meet the children, to take care of them.” She pulled back and grabbed his face with both hands. A motherly look was seen in her eyes, “Please, Jace, promise me.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I- I promise you,” He nodded, and Visaella kissed his cheek before hugging him once again. “I thought ‘we will do okay’.” He joked, “You said that yourself.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “It’s a battle, Jacaerys.” She spoke softly, “We never know what might happen.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Everything is going to be fine.” He said, copying her own words. She tilted her head, and Jacaerys remembered, “But if things get ugly, I will escape. I promise you that.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Good.” She nodded, “Now, it’s time to go.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She stroked his hair one last time before going towards Vermithor once again. Once she was already seated on the saddle, she gave one last look back to the woods. It was probably the last time she would be there.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ When Vermithor landed on the main entrance of the Red Keep, the guards took off their swords immediately, pointing them to the giant beast in front of them. Visaella smiled proudly at her dragon, before starting to go down the rope ladder.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She walked in front of Vermithor, presenting herself to the knights and watching them getting close. They never let their guard down.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “My name is Princess Visaella of House Velaryon, and I’ve come in the name of my mother, Princess Rhaenyra, in order to speak with the King’s Hand.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ One of the guards stepped forward and looked at her from head to toe. He intended to move closer to her, but Vermithor moved his head, scaring him away.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What do you want to talk about with him?” He asked.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “With all due respect, Ser.” She spoke with a fake politeness, “I don’t think that something of your interest. Please, tell him to come.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “The Hand will only accept a reunion in his chambers.” The guard explained, “We can guide you to him if you wish.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Vermithor might have felt the despair she felt when she thought everything would come out in the wrong way, because he put his head closer to the guard, in an attempt to intimidate him. Visaella let herself enjoy his terrified face before controlling her dragon.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Lykiri, Vermithor.” She commanded him. He took a step back before laying down once again. “Now, please bring the Lord Hand, tell him it’s important.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The guard walked inside the castle while Visaella waited there. The nervousness was consuming her body and soon she started scratching her own fingers, trying to free some of that tension.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Her whole body stiffened up when Otto came to her sight. He had the nerve to walk towards her with a smile, as if they had done nothing wrong, as if Lucerys was not dead because of them. The rage suddenly took control over her body, and her jaw clenched as her eyes darkened.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Princess Visaella,” He greeted her with a small bow, “I didn’t expect your presence around here.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I’ve come to talk.” She declared, “There are some important matters that need to be discussed.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Otto nodded lightly, “Perhaps we should go inside, I would be more comfortable if-”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “No.” She hurried to say, “I wouldn’t feel comfortable in a room with only your presence. Not under the circumstances of our present.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Well then, so tell me, Princess.” He said, “What have you come to talk about then? Did Daemon change his mind about our terms?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She frowned, not knowing what he was talking about. She held back the urge to ask him, knowing that she needed to follow a script written in her mind.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I came to bend the knee,” She confessed, Otto looked at her strangely. Visaella looked quickly at the sky, waiting for Daemon's signal.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Why?” He asked, doubtfully.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Beg your pardon?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Why are you bending the knee now?” He said, “After your brother’s murder, why?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She swallowed hard after hearing him pronouncing his name, as if he had the right to do it after everything he had done.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She thought about her answer and she almost bit her own tongue for it.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Because my love for Aegon is bigger than anything else” The words felt so bitter, so filled with lies. She had to blatantly lie. “I came here to serve him, as- as her loyal friend.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Otto did not seem to be convinced at all, it was the opposite actually. He stared at her with pure confusion on his face. Visaella gave up then, the thought of her being caught immediately came to her mind while Otto was observing her with an intense gaze, showing how much he did not trust her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Allow me to doubt you, Princess.” He looked to a guard and tilted his head. The guard started walking towards her. “But, I must speak with King Aegon before letting you in.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Vermithor roared when the guard was close enough to touch Visaella, and the man fell backwards to the ground. Otto frowned,

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Princess-”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The sound of Caraxes’ singular shrill roar was heard while he flew above their heads. Visaella felt something in her chest, Daemon heard Vermithor and flew over there to check on her, ruining the entire plan.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Fuck, fuck, fuck, Visaella thought.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What is he doing here?” Otto asked, raising his voice.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Vermithor stood up, spreading his large wings and roaring once more. Otto looked at her, now he was scared, and she gained back the control of the situation. The look of pure terror on the old man’s face will be carved on her memory until the day she died,

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Tell him to calm down!” Otto demanded.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella did not say anything, she just stood there while Vermithor was getting as angry as her. Suddenly, an arrow flew beside the princess and hit the dragon’s scales. It did not do him any harm at all, it barely tickled him, but the Princess saw this as a threat towards her beloved dragon, and she would not allow that.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What is going on?” Otto asked again.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You all killed Lucerys,” She said, “You killed my mother and two of my siblings.” She spat, her eyes filled with hatred. “And yet you feel entitled to smile in my presence.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Otto started to walk backwards, knowing that he was in great danger. Another arrow passed beside her, hitting Vermithor's thick skin once again. She looked up and saw two men preparing their archers to shoot him.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You stole my mother’s throne, you killed my sweet boy.” She walked, positioning herself under Vermithor’s neck, “Now you will pay.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Princess-” He was looking up at the dragon and giving swift glances to her, scared of taking his eyes away from the beast.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I will burn every single one of you.” She threatened him, “I will burn this entire castle and city if I have to.” The guards were starting to walk towards the entrance door. “My mother did not want to be Queen of the Ashes.” She spoke softly, “But I do.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Visaella-!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Dracarys.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Vermithor spat a cloud of fire on the men in front of her, and the ones that were stupidly throwing arrows at her. She started hearing their screams, watching them squirm in the ground trying to put out the flames that were burning their flesh, and she could not take her eyes off of Otto’s burning body. She felt a big relief when she saw him kneel in front of her out of the pain, it was better than any other feeling.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It brought her greater pleasure than any night she spent with Aegon, and that is when knew how good it would feel to kill every single one of them.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She walked between the burning bodies, her chin lifted with pride as she walked inside the main door of the castle and started to make her way towards wherever Aegon was. There were thousands of maids and servants running and screaming while she was walking up the stairs.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ They deserve to be scared, Visaella thought, they bent the knee for the usurper and betrayed your mother.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella sneaked inside the castle without being seen. The commotion and panic of the people were quite helpful as less people were paying attention to her. She tried to walk with her head down, always paying attention to her surroundings in case someone would recognize her, but no one did.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She was almost chanting victory when she saw Ser Criston Cole trotting in her direction and being followed by at least twelve other guards. Visaella panicked, and she opened the first door she found, hiding in an unknown room.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Her movements were quiet and stealthy; the door did not make a sound and her steps were barely heard. She went unnoticed, remaining silent until she heard some voices near her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I told you this would happen!” She heard a whine from someone she could not recognize. “It was just a matter of time after what the Prince did to that poor boy.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella peeked from where she was hiding, and saw two maids hiding behind a big piece of furniture. One of them seemed as if she could not stop crying. They had not noticed her presence in the room yet.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Poor Princess Rhaenyra,” One of them lamented, “I can only imagine her pain when she found out.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “The worst thing of it all, it’s what the people are saying.” She whispered, “I’ve heard in the corridors that Prince Aemond took Prince Lucerys’ eyes and gave them to his betrothed back in Storm’s End.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A hole was installed on her chest, and the whistle on her ear came back. Her brow lowered and her lips became a line showing her serious semblance. Her body started to heathen up, and her hands became fists, one of them surrounded the sword handle on her scabbard.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I heard that the King celebrated with him.” One of them continued, now Visaella’s heart stopped. “He threw a feast for his brother.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “How terrible-”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The princess made herself seen by the maids, who widened her eyes scared after noticing her presence. Visaella was shaking, she was crying and her face was red. She looked down at the maids with pure abhorrence on her darkened eyes. They saw her hardened stare filled with rage and they closed their eyes, thinking she might kill them.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Where is Aegon?” She asked, her voice sounding deeper than usual.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “He- he was- he was walking…” The maid was stuttering, deadly scared of Visaella, whose knuckles were starting to get white thanks to the strength of her grip around the hilt of her sword. “He was walking to his chambers…”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Was he alone?” The maids nodded, “Good.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella drew her sword before opening the door abruptly, stumping outside the room and starting to walk fastly towards Aegon’s chambers. Raging tears were escaping her eyes, she was fuming; breathing too fast.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A guard caught her, but she was quick enough to cut his throat with her sword. Then came another, and another. Visaella was letting all her anger take control of her senses, being completely numb by it, by the end of the fight she was already covered in blood and her arm was bleeding due to a deep cut.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She knew the path very well, so it was quite easy to arrive at the hallway where Aegon’s chambers were located. She peeked through a corner at the end of the corridor and saw a guard standing outside the room. Visaella picked a stone and threw it on the floor in order to make noise and caught the attention of the guard. It worked.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The guard walked towards the corner with the hilt of his sword in his hand. Visaella waited for him as he slowly went forward. She grabbed one of her daggers, and once the guard was close enough, she stabbed him on the neck in a quick movement, without even letting him react.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ His dead body fell onto the ground and she used his white cloak to clean her dagger’s blade. Then, she got inside the chambers.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A certain feeling unbeknownst to her positioned in her gut. She closed the door behind her and looked around, trying to find him. His scent reached her nose and it was a triggering sensation that almost made her cry, it drove her mad and her mind was engulfed with the tons of memories that came to her mind. She even was able to feel his touch on her hips once she closed her eyes.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She shook her head and woke up from the tortuous trance that her own mind put her in, and quickly tried to compose herself. Only then, she had the strength of going inside the room. Her eyes were scanning around trying to find him, until her eyes fell onto his messy bed.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ There he was.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Aegon was sleeping, he was shirtless and only a pair of thin pants covered his nudity. His hair was spreaded on the white pillow, and his milky skin was still covered with marks; marks that she had done. He was sleeping on the right side of the bed, leaving the left side completely empty. There was an empty bottle of wine on the nightstand. She looked around and she was surprised to see her red gown with a wine stain on one of the sofas.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Her haze softened a little, but then her mind started poisoning her feelings again. He was there, sleeping safe and sound, seeming so relaxed and calm, while she barely had enough sleep these last days. She had been living in a nightmare, and yet Aegon seemed to be so content in his bed. It was not fair.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He made a feast, Visaella thought, and the madness started to succumb her once again. You were grieving and he was having a feast.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Just as if he was able to feel her presence, he started to move. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, and stretched his body. His heart stopped once his vision cleared and saw Visaella standing in front of the bed, he sat up and his eyes softened instantly; he was so bewitched by her presence that he did not notice the stains of blood on her armor. He did not even notice she was wearing an armor.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Her skin shivered, and she did not know if it was for the cold breeze that came inside the room, or the intense haze of Aegon on her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “My love…” He whispered, astonished. He crawled desperately over the bed until he got close to her. “My sweet love, is that really you?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He stood up from the bed and walked carefully towards her, as if he was scared she was some illusion of his imagination. He tried to touch her face, but she grabbed his wrist with a strong grip, Aegon widened his eyes, taken aback by her unexpected action.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You made a feast.” She claimed. Aegon frowned, confused at her words.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Wh-what?” He muttered.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Lucerys died… and you made a feast.” Her voice sounded so hollow, so monotone.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Aegon looked at her eyes, and he saw it again; the same hatred that she used to hurt him the last time they saw each other. He leaned backwards, and just then he woke up from her spell and realized that she was covered in blood.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Are you hurt?” He asked, worried.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You lied to me.” She accused him, “You used me.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What are you saying?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You trick me… you used me to take my mother’s crown.” A tear fell from her eye. Aegon tried to wipe it off, but Visaella leaned back. “You fucking liar.” She whispered.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Ella, I did this to protect you- They forced me to do it.” He explained, frowning, “I’ve never lied to you, why are you saying those things?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Protect me?” She scoffed, “Lucerys is dead for what you did… My mother is dead. How dare you call that ‘protection’?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It seemed as if the news of his half-sister’s death had shocked him more than Visaella expected. His eyes looked confused, almost lost.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Rhaenyra is dead?” He questioned, astonished.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Because of what your brother did.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What happened with Lucerys was an accident, Ella. Just let me explain everything-”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Aegon’s words stopped once Visaella’s hand started to squeeze his throat. He looked at her with horror reflected on his face while his mouth dropped open trying to breathe. Her grip was strong, even Aegon was surprised by her strength; her eyes seemed to be lost. He tried to escape from her grip, but he could not do it. Then he just closed his eyes, being unable to bear that malignant stare on him again.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Don’t you dare to say his name.” She spat, “Don’t you fucking dare to defend your murderer brother.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I did this-” He spoke breathlessly, searching for air, “I did this so we- so we can marry.” He whined.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella freed him from her grip, and she started to push him. “Stop lying!” She yelled at him, while he was trying to make her stop. “Fucking liar!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Stop it.” Aegon said, grabbing her arms and putting them behind her back, she kept squirming trying to escape. “Stop it!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She started to cry all over again, breaking down in front of him. Aegon noticed the ache of her heart by seeing through her hardened haze. He leaned his forehead against hers, and he felt the warmth of her breath.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “They told me I’ll get to marry you if I accept the crown.” He whispered, “I did it so we can be together, why don't you believe me?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You killed Lucerys…”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I didn’t.” He shook his head, desperately trying to prove his innocence. “Aemond did.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Under your command.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I didn’t order him to kill him. Please, my love, you have to believe me.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You stole the crown, Aegon!” She yelled, her face was covered in tears by then, and burning with rage. “If you would’ve rejected it, Lucerys would be with me.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “They forced me-”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You have a dragon…” She interrupted, “Why didn’t you fly to Dragonstone?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I sent you a letter.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Stop lying!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I am not!” He raised his voice, tired of the situation, “Stop fucking screaming and listen to me!” Visaella whined, “I fucking love you, I would leave everything for you, I would do anything for you! How can you not see?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Her lip trembled, “And yet you did nothing to prevent Lucerys’ death.” He went silent, “You didn’t even punish Aemond for what he did.” She cried, “You knew how much I loved Lucerys, you knew how much this would ruin me, and yet… you did nothing.” She looked right at his eyes, wanting him to see her face once she pronounced the following words, “You ruined my life, Aegon.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ His grip around her hand weakened, her hurtful words made him close his eyes. He wished to be dreaming, he begged to wake up with her between his arms that day when everything started to go down. He pledged to the gods.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You don’t mean that.” He mumbled.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I do.” She spat. Her words were venom, and it was burning Aegon’s heart. “You ruined everything! You ruined me!” She managed to get out of his grip and she pushed him far from her. Aegon stumbled, “Look how miserable I am now, and it’s all because of you!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Don’t say that.” He whispered, shocking his head while his teary purple eyes looked at her. “Please, don’t.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I wish I hadn’t believed in your words, in your lies.” Aegon hummed in pain, “I wish I had never let myself be with you. I was a fool.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Ella…” Aegon begged.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “And I warned you, if you ever touch them again I will kill you.” She remembered him. “You didn’t listen, so now I'm here to keep my word... I will kill you.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Her words were harsh, they pierced through his heart like a dagger and it made him feel miserable. The worst thing of it all is that he wanted to be angry at her, but he couldn’t. He wanted to scream at her, tell her to fuck herself for treating him this way after everything he had done for her, he wanted to yell a thousand of atrocities at her face so she could feel an inch of his pain, of what he was feeling right then. But, he could not bring himself to do that. He had felt abandonment a long time ago by his own parents, being neglected and left aside from his family. No one showed him what love truly was until she arrived in his life to save him. He could not afford to lose her, not after he had tasted her sweetness and devotion. Not after everything they have been through.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ So, instead of getting mad, he begged her. He fell onto his knees and hugged her hips so tightly that Visaella gasped. She tried to push him away but he was too strong, and she was weakened by her own sorrow.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Please…” He whined, “Please, my love, please. I love you, you need to believe me.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You don’t love me.” She cried, “You don’t do these things to someone you love.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I’m sorry!” His voice broke between his screams, “Please, forgive me!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Her knees felt weak, they were shaking. Aegon’s face was buried on her belly, not caring about crushing his nose against the cold metal of her armor. He wanted to be as close as he possibly could. Visaella was sobbing loudly, everything started to ache. It was too much, it was too painful.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Too many emotions were drowning her body.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I love you, I love you.” He repeated. “I’m sorry. Please, love me.” He whined, “I can lose you, please. Tell me you love me too.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I can’t.” She spoke. “I can’t love you anymore.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “No! No, no!” He stood up and he grabbed her face. “Look at me, my love. Please, please!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Stop it.” She muttered.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I love you!” He screamed at her face, touching her skin.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Aegon, shut up.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I love you, my sun. I love you, please!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Shut up!” She closed her eyes, not being capable of looking at his eyes.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Forgive me, my love. I can’t lose you, I love you.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Stop it!” She screamed, “Stop it!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I love you-”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Her lips smashed against his, and Aegon moaned out of relief and pain. His lips were dry, but they were still as soft as always. Visaella whimpered against him, feeling Aegon’s hands grabbing her body and bringing her closer to his. It was desperate, intense, it was a kiss that made it count for all those agony days without each other’s presence. Aegon felt consolation, he devoured her mouth shamelessly, whining and sighing against her tongue and feeling her taste. Visaella’s hands were tangled on his platinum hair, feeling his softness one last time.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ When she pulled apart they were breathing fast, their lips swollen and wet. They stared at each other’s eyes, Aegon’s were filled with love but she could not see it. He smiled at her, feeling unburdened by having her back into his arms.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ His eyes were glistening, his purple eyes were softened. Until a shook look took over his face.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ His hand covered his throat while the blood splashed on his naked chest and on her clothing. Aegon’s eyes were filled with horror while he started gulping and choking with his own blood. Visaella looked at the front with a lost stare, trying to ignore the sound of Aegon’s body falling dead on the floor.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She was shaking, and her legs were trembling desperately. She fell on the ground and looked at the lifeless eyes of her lover. She let out a loud sob, starting to cry desperately. She hated him, she hated him for making her do this. For forcing her to despise him.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She looked up, staring at her reflection through the mirror; she was covered in blood. Aegon's blood. Her chest was moving fast, she was sobbing uncontrollably, her eyes displaying the hatred she felt. There was no mercy in them, she was blinded by the rage and vengeance. Those sweet eyes were no longer there, there was no kindness left. She went mad, and killing Aegon was the livid proof of it.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella crawled to the balcony, still whimpering and crying, she felt the smell of smoke reaching her nose and once she reached the door frame, she used it as a support to stand up. Her shaky hands grabbed the railing, and she observed the view; everything was burning, screams were heard. The heat of the fire felt so close to her that she could feel its warmth. She looked at the sky and saw Vermithor flying on top of the Red Keep, he stood on a burning building and roared.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She was just starting to get worried about Jacaerys and Daemon when a cold blade was positioned on her neck. She gasped out of impression, and a laugh was heard against her ear.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Prince Aemond will be thrilled to see what you’ve done to the King.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He grabbed her carelessly, almost dragging her outside the chambers, forcing her to keep up with his fastened pace. Her legs were not steady, they were crashing against each other making her drag her body around the corridors.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The man never let the knife go, constantly putting it against her flesh and even cutting a little of her neck. Visaella did not fight him at any time, knowing that she was at a big disadvantage, and that she would probably lose any kind of fight at that moment; she was still shaken with what had happened; with what she had done.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “When Daemon finds you, he will kill you.” She muttered.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Not if Prince Aemond kills you first.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She did not recognize where they were going, the big castle seemed like a maze and it appeared that not even the guard knew where he was taking her. He was just walking around, as if he was trying to find something –or someone.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The presence of a familiar face came in her way. He stood up in front of the both of them and she frowned; it was one of the twins guards, but she was not able to recognize which, as the light was too dim. She only begged for him to be the right twin.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Where are you taking her?” The guard said, looking at her covered in blood and then to the other guard holding her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “To Prince Aemond.” He replied. “Why don’t you do me a favor and tell me where he is, Arryk?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She tensed after hearing the name, starting to feel unsafe once again.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “No.” He shook his head. “Give her to me, I know where Prince Aemond and Queen Alicent are, I’ll take her to them.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Or you could just tell me.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “No.” He denied again, “Only me and Ser Criston know where the Queen is hiding, I will not give that information to a strange guard.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The man behind her clicked his tongue with annoyance before removing the dagger from her throat and throwing her to the ground, just by the feet of the guard. He looked down at her at the same time she looked up, he grabbed his flail and Visaella covered her head once he raised his arm.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She closed her eyes, expecting the impact but instead she heard a body falling next to her. The guard's body. The man was continuously beating his face until it was unrecognizable, and it left a huge blood stain that almost reached the princess.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She crawled away from him, and the twin kneeled by her side.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Your Grace, are you okay?” He spoke softly.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Ser Erryk…” She answered with relief.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I was looking for you.” He said, “Prince Daemon wants to see you, he claims to have a surprise for you.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He offered his hand, and she took it without even thinking twice about it. She stood up with his help and he guided her through the castle. She looked around, and there were dead bodies of white cloak guards laying around on the cold floor. It was a gruesome view, but it was proof that they had won. That thought made her feel some kind of peace within her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ However, Ser Erryk did not let his guard down until they reached the main entrance of the Red Keep once again, Vermithor was the first thing she saw through the open gates, and later she managed to see three wooden poles with three people tied on them. As she was getting closer, she finally recognized the silhouettes of Aemond, Alicent and Helaena.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Daemon turned around and watched her approaching him with a victorious smile. Jacaerys was by his side, standing up straight with his arms behind his back. He seemed to be unharmed, and that made Visaella feel relieved.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Finally Your Grace is here.” Daemon announced once his daughter reached his side. “That one was tough,” He said pointing at Aemond, who was staring at them without expression at all. Next to him was Alicent, who could not stop shaking, “Ser Erryk was able to catch him before he could escape to find Vhagar.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Where’s Aegon?!” Alicent asked, almost screaming in despair. “Tell him I want to see him!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella ignored the woman’s words and kept talking with Daemon, “Ser Criston?” She asked after not seeing him among the others.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I took my liberties with him.” He said with a malicious smirk, “But, I assure you he will not be an issue for you.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Good.” Her eyes traveled to her brother’s face, “Are you okay?” He did not verbally answer, but he nodded.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Bring me Aegon!” Alicent insisted, “I want to see my son!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella turned around at her, expressionless. Alicent looked at her state with eyes filled with terror. The princess’ eyes were orbitated by madness, her whole face changed. The fact that Alicent thought that she would let Aegon live after what he had done to her family was just too insulting for her not to react. She took her words as if Alicent did not think she was strong enough to kill him.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Visaella, please!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Aegon is dead.” She spoke coldly. The woman frowned and her lip trembled, “I sliced his throat open and watched him bleed to death.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “No…” She denied, incredulous. “You wouldn’t do that. Not to him.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “But I did.” She shrugged. “The usurper is dead.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I don’t believe you.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The princess walked towards her, nothing was found beneath her purple eyes. Alicent was frightened by her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Do you want me to bring you his head?” She asked teasingly. “He still lays in his chambers.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “He loved you!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She scoffed, taking a step back and whispering, “No, he didn’t.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Behind her back Daemon smiled pleasantly.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella walked towards Helaena, who remained serene even after everything she had seen. The silver haired girl looked up to her, she had teary eyes but there was no sign of tears on her cheeks.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I’m really sorry, Helaena.” She said softly, “You were the kindest of them all… Perhaps you do not deserve such a cruel and ruthless death,” She clenched her jaw and looked down. “But neither did Lucerys.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Helaena whispered, “The emerald kinship will prevail, a small child with his sire’s face.” Visaella ignored her words, walking towards Aemond.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Being in front of him was as if a wave of rage washed over her body. Her breathing turned sharp as soon as she saw his face, the despise on her eyes was easily seen and her hands were itching to grab her dagger and cut his throat. However, she held herself back by taking a deep breath and say,

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “After what you did, I dreamt of many ways to kill you.” She confessed, “I hoped the Gods would make your life miserable, I hoped you would die in the most painful and horrible way possible.” She laughed, “You will die last, because I want you to see. I want you to see while your mother and sister die screaming, so you can feel an inch of my pain.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Aemond tensed. He tried to make himself look careless, but Visaella knew he was growing desperate as there was nothing he could do by now.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Was it worth it?” He spoke with a deep and raspy voice, looking down at her. Visaella frowned. “Killing Aegon,” He clarified, “Was it worth it?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella knew he was trying to touch her nerve and make her break in front of everyone, but she would not let him get the pleasure to see her cry. Instead, she smirked.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Put him aside,” Visaella ordered, “And make sure he has a good view.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She walked back towards Daemon and Jacaerys while Ser Erryk along with other guards started to take Aemond off the wooden pole. He was positioned in front of Visaella, watching the scenery in the first row.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Soon, Vermithor started moving towards the women. Alicent closed her eyes the minute she saw the beast getting closer; Visaella watched her as she started to pray to the Seven, and hummed pleased by seeing her despair.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Queen Alicent Hightower, Princess Helaena Targaryen. I, Visaella of House Targaryen, first of my name and rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms, sentence you to die.” Helaena muttered the same words as before, but once again Visaella ignored her. Alicent took a deep breath and watched her children for the last time. “Dracarys.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The fire brought warmth to the cold night. Visaella looked down at Aemond who was kneeling in front of her with Ser Erryk holding a knife against his throat in order to keep him still. She smiled, pleased with herself after seeing the despair in his eye. She felt an inner peace after seeing him suffering; she had the same look on her face once she found out about Lucerys, and it was such a pleasant feeling to see the same distress reflected on him.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Once the fire started to fade out, Visaella made a subtle sign to the guards and positioned Aemond between the two calcined bodies. He looked completely wrecked, his hardened look now was a defeated one. If he was going to die, he was glad he would die along with his family.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I will not even justify your murder by giving you a reason… we both know why I am doing this.” She put her hands behind her back and straightened up her body, “But I will ask you something, and you shall answer; why did you do it?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He did not speak back.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You owe me an answer, Aemond.” She spat, “Why did you do it?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “It was an accident.” He muttered, his voice sounding raspy and low. “I never meant to kill him.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She scoffed, shaking her head and looking at him incredulously. “An accident.” She repeated, “You fucking liar.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I’m speaking the truth.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “How can I trust in the words of a kinslayer?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He laughed, bitterly, “You are one too.” He said, looking at her through his eyelashes.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella pouted her lips, and nodded softly. “Yes, I guess I am.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Her loyal dragon prepared himself once again. Aemond straightened up his body and lifted his chin, showing himself unafraid of what she may do. They were staring at each other’s eyes without breaking eye contact, filled with hate and resentment. Visaella did not bend, she remained still in her position without letting him intimidate her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She smiled, and Aemond frowned confused at her reaction. “Ipradagon zirȳla. (Eat him)”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The silver haired man widened his eyes after hearing her voice, realizing that he would not have the same death as his mother and sister. Vermithor growled loudly, taking his time. Aemond looked up at him just when he opened his mouth and swallowed him fully. The look of shock on his face will probably be carved forever in Visaella’s mind, as a gratifying memory.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She turned around only to find everyone looking at her. She looked to the faces of the present people, she managed to see fear in some of them. She walked towards Daemon, who arched his eyebrow when he saw her expressionless face, expecting her to be broken and crying until her eyes felt sore. But she was intact, with just a few dry tears on her face.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Gather the Green Tropes that are left.” She commanded, “Send ravens to every single Lord and Lady in the realm. Tell them to come to King’s Landing to bend the knee to the rightful heir to the throne, or else they will suffer the same consequences as them.” Her head moved pointing at the place where the burnt bodies were. Daemon bowed his head as affirmation.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Visaella looked at Jacaerys who was staring at the floor without being capable of looking at her. She grabbed his face between her hands and forced him to do it; he was crying.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She reached his forehead and left a soft kiss in it, “We won, brother.” She whispered, “Now we can finally live at peace.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jacaerys saw her eyes and nodded assuringly. She gave him a soft smile before starting to walk away to the inside of the castle that now belonged to her at the same time that Vermithor flew away.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ As she was getting further from the rest, her smile started to get bigger. She had fulfilled her duty, she kept her word and avenged her family, gaining back what belonged to her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Her smile just showed how relieved she felt. It was over now, she finished the war before it could even start. She knew very deep inside her that her mother would be proud of what she had done for her. Now she could finally live in peace.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Two months later all the Lords had come to King's Landing, with Lord Stark being the last one to arrive. They were gathered in the Throne room, along with servants, some peasants, and the guards. They were all waiting for her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ When the gates were opened, everyone turned to see her delicate frame, and a silence took over the place. She was wearing a black gown, with metal ornaments that imitated a dragon’s scales; it seemed like an armor. Her hair was perfectly braided, not a single hair strand was out of place. She was looking completely gorgeous.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The princess started to walk in the large hallway that divided the two big groups of people that were there to witness her coronation. She saw the front, at one side of the throne was the Maester Gerardys along with Daemon, and at the other side was Ser Erryk and Jacaerys. The last one was looking proudly at her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She saw around the audience the faces of many lords and ladies that she could recognise. Some of them as Lord Stark and Lady Arryn were staring at her with subtle smiles, while others as Lord Lannister and Lord Baratheon were caught with scared hazes; they had supported the usurper after all, and they were afraid of what she might be capable of doing with them.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She felt the weight of everybody’s stare on her, that made her feel nervous. Her nails started to pinch the flesh of her hand, trying to make her calm down and relax. She needed to enjoy her big day after everything she went through to get there.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Once she arrived right in front of the throne, she kneeled before the Maester. He took a vase filled with liquid and started the ceremony. Two stomps were heard before the Grand Maester spoke,

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “We gather here, to be witnesses of this great event.” His voice echoed around the room, it sounded loud and clear. “The rightful heir to the Iron Throne, has defeated the usurper!” He dipped his thumb in the water and marked her forehead with it. “May the Warrior give her courage, may the Smith lend strength to her sword and shield.” She looked at Daemon, who was smiling down at her, and then she looked at the hand-shaped pin decorating his vest. “May the Father defend her in her need, may the Crone lift her shining lamp and light her way to wisdom.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The Maester slowly gave the vase back to Jacaerys, and then he grabbed the crown; Aegon’s crown. He passed it to Ser Erryk, who took a step forward, grabbing it and lifting it up for everyone to see.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “The Conqueror’s Crown passed down through generations, and now it will lay on our Queen’s head.” She held her breath once she felt the weight of the crown on top of her head. “Let the Seven be witness: Visaella Targaryen defeated the usurper, and claimed her position as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He offered his hand, she delicately took it and stood up. He was the first one to bow, followed by the Maester, Jacaerys and lastly, Daemon. She sighed deeply, and she turned around. Joffrey, Viserys and Aegon were on the front row looking at her with excitement; their sister is now the queen, they might have thought. Baela and Rhaena were next to them smiling slightly at her. Everyone seemed pleased to see her with the Conqueror’s Crown on her head.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ They were all signs that she had done the right thing.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The Maester cleared his throat, “All hail the Queen!” He yelled. “Visaella of House Targaryen, first of her name. Queen of the Andals, the Rhyonar and the First Men, lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the realm.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A silence was taking over the room, until Ser Erryk screamed, “Long may she reign!”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ In unison, all the presents repeated his words, creating a deafening echo in the room that made her feel shivers down her spine. Visaella stood up tall looking around with her jaw clenched, and proud of what she had achieved.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ However, in a subtle movement, she touched her belly. A small, melancholic tear fell down her cheek knowing that the last piece of Aegon was growing inside her.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The emerald kinship will prevail, a small child with his sire’s face.

#aegon ii targaryen #house targaryen #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen #aegon x reader #oc!female #game of thrones #aemond targaryen #hotd #angst #mini fanfic #multiple part series #lovers to enemies #daemon targaryen #team green #fanfic #hotd x reader #team black #hotd fanfic

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sephirothsplaything · 3 months

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So dear author, can I get an extremely intimate, passionate and romantic nsfw imagine/oneshot Daemon x poc/black fem! reader, in which they are married, but reader has been acting strangely for weeks and Daemon is kind of worried/intrigued by her behavior (since she is distant and doesn't talk to him about what's going on) and he goes to Nyra (they're friends) to try to find out what's going on and she just reassures him. But what he doesn't know is that Reader is pregnant and is trying to find a way to tell him. So with the help of Rhaenyra (who is the only one besides her who knows) reader prepares a surprise for him (more like a love nest, complete with candles, flowers, sweets, bath and massage)… While they are there taking a shower together and talking about the amenities of the day, she is giving him a back massage and kissing his scars, then she apologizes for acting strange and tells him the real reason and then he worships her while they make love, please? (sorry for my English, and if it's too long and full of details, feel free to ignore)

I'm ngl Daemon and I struggled a little with this. I really had to lock in for him to be character-accurate, but I sincerely hope you like it! And thank you for requesting I had plenty of fun.

Daemon Targaryen x black fem! reader NSFW

CW: smut obvi, slight pregnancy kink, and breeding kink if you squint and body worship.

Word count: 1320(honestly i have a thing for writing long stuff)

Daemon’s eyes followed as you briskly walked past him.

You hadn’t spoken to him all day. In fact, these days you hardly speak at all. You’d often eat your supper alone or walk with only the company of your handmaidens.

Daemon isn’t one to worry,he had larger matters to attend to than whether or not you're upset with him.

That was his personal opinion at least. Rhaenyra seemed to adamantly disagree.

“There is something bothering her, it is plain to see.” Rhaenyra said. Daemon had come to her for advice, or rather he’d hope Rhaenyra would confirm his thoughts.

“She’s being ridiculous.” Daemon scoffs. Deep down he had to admit, your dismissal of him irritated him immensely. He really did love you, no one could deny this. So why the avoidance?

Rhaenyra scoffs at Daemon. Clearly, what was obvious to her might as well be invisible to him.

Rising up from her seat, Rhaenyra shoots Daemon a pointed look.

“Take care to be more gentle with her.” She says. And with that Rhaenyra exits the room, leaving Daemon swirling in his thoughts.

You paced around your room. You knew you’d have to tell him eventually. Your belly would soon grow for all the world to see.

“Y/N?” You heard Rhaenyra’s voice call out to you. Ordering your handmaids to leave the room,you invited Rhaenyra to sit by you. She takes your hand in hers,thumb brushing the top of your hand.

“He needs to know.” Rhaenyra sighed out. Of course she was right,as always.

You folded your hands together,deep in thought. Daemon was always caught up in one matter or another. You were unsure on how to speak to him.

“Perhaps you should arrange for something special?” Rhaenyra suggested. You stared at her in confusion. You and Daemon’s relationship was interesting at best. It was never boring, he’d frequently bring you back things such as fine jewelry or books from other kingdoms.

“I am unsure as to what he’d like.” You admitted,slightly embarrassed. Rhaenyra smiles at you.

She found it amusing how you, too, seemed oblivious.

“He’ll enjoy anything you give him,I think.” Rhaenyra assures you.

So here you were,leaning up against the outside of your tub. Your curly white hair rested against your brown skin. You chose to wear a simple linen dress. As nervous as you were,you were in no mood to be decked out in overindulgence.

You had sent for Daemon awhile ago. The longer you sat in waiting, anxiety began to set in. Taking a breath,you took in your surroundings. The bath had since been drawn and the petals of your favorite wildflowers had been scattered onto your bed and the floor.

But what if he didn’t like it? What if he thought you were a fool for making such an effort? What will happen when–.

“Y/N?” Daemon’s voice cuts through your thoughts. He walks around your room,taking note of all the decorations you’ve set up. You lift your head up slightly. It was like you were going to puke any minute.

Daemon finds you on the floor of the bathroom. You offer a half smile at him. Daemon crosses his arms,leaning onto one of the walls.

“And what’s all this?” He asks.

“I just thought perhaps we could take a bath together.” You mumble.

Daemon doesn’t respond. He stares at you for a moment. Then slowly, he passes you by to the bath. He removes his shirt, followed by his pants and undergarments. Getting into the water, he leans back into the tub.

“Well?” He raises an eyebrow at you. Following suit,you remove your dress. Sliding behind him,you lean onto his back. A comfortable silence wafted in the room.

“Caraxes and Syrax have brought forth a new clutch of eggs.” Daemon said. You hum softly as you begin to massage his shoulders. He sighed,leaning back further into you.

“Perhaps I should take an egg for myself then.” You giggled. You hadn’t yet found a dragon for yourself,much to Daemon’s dismay.

You went quiet after that. You still haven't told him. Daemon runs his hand down your arm,silently coaxing you to speak to him.

“I’m pregnant.” You say,voice quivering a little. Daemon stills at the news and you think that you really might throw up, for the second time.

“Is that what you’ve been dancing around?” He finally speaks. You take a breath but the nervousness doesn’t leave your gut.

“I know you’ve been so busy I wasn’t sure if you’d be pleased.” You say quietly.

“You are going to bear my child,why wouldn’t I be pleased?” He scoffs.

You couldn’t find a response for him,so back to silence it was.”

“Do you know that I care for you?” He asks,voice stern.

“Yes.” Your response was immediate.

Daemon stands up,he turns to face you.

“Then,allow me to take you to bed and show you?” He suggests.

With that he slips an arm under your plush thighs,carrying you to the bedroom.

Daemon lays you out on your bed. Your body is flush against him as he kisses you deeply. His hands trail down to your stomach and linger there for a moment. You shivered at the contact.

Daemon kisses down to your stomach and down to your thighs. You whine impatiently and he shushes you.

Daemon devoured you like a man starved. His hands grip harshly onto your plush thighs, sure to leave bruises in the morning. You moan softly, your hand finding its way to his hair as your fingers softly brushed them.

Daemon hummed softly. Then, he removes his mouth from you,beginning to place kisses fervently all over your body. He sits back on his knees,taking you in. The coils of her hair were splayed out on the pillow like a halo. Your brown skin was nearly hot to the touch.

Mother to his child. Daemon couldn't begin to verbalize how perfect you were.

“Perhaps after this child, I should give you another.” Daemon purrs. You gasp in surprise as he drags you by the legs,bringing you closer. Lining himself up with you,he thrusts in one fluid motion.

Curses and moans filled the room,the sounds gracing your ears. It was all so overwhelming,waves of emotions welling up in you all at once. As he continues his harsh thrusts,you think you can hear him mutter about how tight you were for him.

Your legs wrap around him tightly,urging him on. You felt the soft stabbing of his cockhead up to your most sensitive spots. You whisper out his name,hands making their way towards him, hands interlocking.

Daemon knew you were close,he could feel your walls squeezing him like a vice,ever the tease you were.

Climaxing, you felt the mixture of his cum as well as yours flow down your thighs. Daemon stays in you for a while,ensuring that not a single drop was wasted. After some time passed,he slowly pulled out of you. Shuddering at the feeling of his warmth leaving you,Daemon pulls your body to him,wrapping his arms protectively around your waist.

The two of you were silent for a while. Daemon gently stroked your back, His head turned to you slightly.

“I assume you’ve come up with names for the child,all that time you were ignoring me.” He says,a slight humor in his voice.

Giggling, you agree you had.

“Aemon if it’s a boy and Rhaena if it's to be a girl.” You decide. Daemon smiles down at you before placing a kiss on your forehead.

#black oc #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon targeryen x reader

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piinkyypriincess · 3 months

Text

SWEET SUMMER ORANGE

Targaryen Dynasty & Fem!Teen!OC

"Green must find her way to orange, or all is lost. The dragons will dance and die, surrounded by fire and blood.”

Multiple Main Pairings!

Main Focus ~ Fem!OC and Targaryen Dynasty (Yandere, Obsessive, Protective)

Warnings ~ Bad Parenting, Mentions of Past Teen Parenting, Criston Cole, Mentions of Otto Hightower, and Helaena's Prophecies.

Spoilers ~ Tons!!

Masterpost ~ Here.

Beta Read/Edited ~ No (No Beta Lmao)

Word Count ~ 1.8k Words.

Chp Summary ~ Queen Alicent Hightower has a special talent where every word that exits her mouth is like spat-out poison.

Chp 1 ~ Weeps of Water

The Green Viper Queen-Consort, Alicent Hightower, was lonely.

In her lonesome, she sat mulling over her thoughts. Although, she wasnt alone, she was constantly surrounded by ladies – who only spoke when spoken to. And the lords conversed with her – but they looked to her Father to speak for her, as if she wasn't the Queen-Consort.

For years she had suffered, confined inside her mind and no one who would listen; no one but The Seven.

Her Father deemed that he knew what was best for the realm. That he was doing what was best for his family's survival, that he would do whatever it took to make sure his family stayed alive.

He wouldn't allow them to die – not after his children's Mother's unfortunate, tragic death.

Alicent simply won the affections of the King when attempting to console him about his late wife; then she had to perform her duty as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

It was just unfortunate that she bore a male heir for Viserys; Otto was just making sure that his family would be safe as Aegon became the challenge to The Throne.

What would it mean for Alicent's family to stay alive, if it was broken beyond repair?

It would sooner rip itself apart by the seams as Aegon drank himself silly, Aemond beat others near death, Helaena mumbled useless nonsense, and Daeron nosing himself into adventures.

Alicent did not dig deeper into her thoughts as her only daughter, Helaena, came into sight; sitting with Dyana in the Garden.

The two oldest children, twins Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, are inseparable. The two are conjoined at the hip practically; even as Jaehaerys listens to his sister and Mother converse cryptically about insects while they indulge in needlework.

Dyana watches over Maelor, the youngest of the triad at six, as he plays with a wooden turtle toy and pushes it at his brother's calf harmlessly. Jaehaerys smiles down at the boy, running his knuckles over the boy's brow.

“Helaena, grandchildren,” Alicent nods at the servant girl to leave and she does; attempting to collect the young Maelor who grips his brother's knee.

“Haerys no,” The child draws out the word ‘no’ and wraps his arms around his brother's neck as the older bends down. The small child hoists himself onto the oldest sibling's lap.

Jaehaerys places a hand in his younger brother's hair, knotting his fingers through the boy's curls. His other arm cradles the child closer like stolen treasure and he makes a low cooing sound; his voice deepening more every day into a low rasp.

“Rūs, please, calm down,” Jaehaerys mutters a sentence Alicent cannot understand so low that she can barely make out syllables. The woman dressed in dark green does not doubt that the words were of High Valyrian.

Maelor squeals in the back of his throat quietly as his brother presses a kiss to the fat of his cheek.

Jaehaerys looks up at his Grandmother, dark purple eyes swirling with carefree emotion, “Maelor can stay surely, Grandmother?” He mutters eyes flitting back down to the child who gets comfortable on his chest.

“Of course, my dear,” She starts with a small smile.

Jaehaerys doesn't speak to her often, only keeping their interactions short as he has a keen eye out for the two estranged women.

The boy is known in Kingdoms as the Realms Jester; equally as unserious and dangerous as he wields a sword with fervor.

She wishes that her Grandchildren – If not her children – would speak to her.

However, they do not. Alicent attempts to carry out more conversation, but fails miserably.

She watches as Jaehaerys bends his head to nose at the crook of the boy's neck; she's always noted how possessive Targaryens were of their young, forever protecting them with blazing eyes.

Jaehaerys may keep an eye on his two estranged family members, but he always has a hand on Maelor; she believes it may be tiring.

It was for her at the age of five and ten.

“Jaehaerys, wouldn't you like to give Maelor to Dyana? Surely you don't enjoy to concern yourself with the trifles of children at your age,” Alicent truly means well as she attempts to place her hand on his shoulder.

The Hightower woman was raised by a Viper with a sharp tongue, most of his words slighting and poisonous in its wake. She truly attempts to transport herself to how she spoke with gentle ease as a young teen – but without the weakness or hesitation.

Jaehaerys' smile gives out and turns into a flat line as Maelor whines, pressing himself closer to his brother. The boy fists the other's soft yellow tunic with a sharp cry in Valyrian that she cannot understand.

Alicent doesn't realize until the last second that her youngest grandchild is no babe, and can understand the weight of her words.

“I will go if you don't want me here,” The child says, voice sapped with sadness. Maelor's purple eyes start to well with tears, the glint of green in them starting to shine like an evergreen tree.

“No crying, ñuha dōna valītsos, you will stay,” Jaehaerys bounces the boy mindlessly with the whisper, making the boy slump against the older.

Jaehaerys eyes shine with something hard; a deep black obsidian crests over within the purple as his grin becomes one of a wolf.

“Surely,” The boy starts, with teeth sharp and words playful, “I do, indeed Grandmother, concern myself with my brother's trifles as they are nothing more than weeps of water in a world filled with wine.”

Jaehaerys bats his long pale lashes and turns his body, hiding Maelor in his chest as his movements brush Alicent's hand off of him.

“Tell us, Grandmother, where is Father now? Surely he would want to trifle himself with his youngest sons, no?”

“Or maybe he is the trifling one himself filled with poisoned wine?” This is what Alicent knows her oldest grandchild itches to say as he insinuates infidelity upon Aegon.

The boy speaks with his head high as Alicent gasps a breath, she looks towards the servant girl who debates leaving but doesn't know whether to take the child.

“You can leave us now Dyana, thank you,” Jaehaerys responds with a smile, eyes soft and kind at the woman just five years older than his five and ten.

The tension shifts as the servant curtseys, and Jaehaerys coos at Maelor whose eyes droop.

“Oh, sweetling, you've worked yourself tired,” Jaehaerys rises from his chair, seemingly taller than her as he secures his sword on his hip and the growing child on the other.

Jaehaerys is a clone of Aemond; his long blonde white hair tied in a sleek male bun behind his head, a lock of shorter hair in the front brushing his cheek.

“Come, let us rest under the Weirwood, huh, ñuha tresy?”

Alicent doesn't know much of the High Valyrian language, the proclamation of Jaehaerys claiming his brother as his child is unknown to her ears.

The word Kepa is whispered into the shell of the fifteen-year-old's ear, making him rumble with delight.

That word, Alicent would understand, as she heard it mumbled from her three kids when they were children. Maelor knows to hush when uttering that word when referring to Jaehaerys.

The older wished his boy could yell it freely instead.

Alicent makes an internal note to speak to the Maesters about having her Grandchildren focus more on their Septa and Septons.

Jaehaera wears a yellow dress matching the color of her brothers. The sleeves drop down around her hands in ruffles that sway as she rises from her chair.

"I will join you, brother,” She says monotonous. Jaehaera turns to kiss her Mother's head before curtseying to Alicent.

“My Queen,” Alicent can feel her heart crack.

Queen is all she ever is and would be.

Alicent nods and after a pregnant pause of silence, she sits down next to Helaena who continues her needling of an insect.

She can hear Jaehaerys recall gossip in the court boisterously as they walk along the stone pathway. Alicent wishes someone would speak to her about petty gossip, she wishes her grandchildren were free with her.

“How have you been, daughter?” Alicent smiles tentatively and tries not to touch Helaena as she flinches easily.

Her spring child hums thoughtfully, “A succession of blue, what could be not true, as the sea breeze calls clearly as the second sons do,” She remarks, almost entranced in a mist as her eyes widen and she pauses her work.

Alicent swallows thickly, eyes misting over as she presses her lips in a thin unamused line. “Whatever do you mean, my child?” This is what she always remarks when Helaena starts to mumble her nonsense.

Suddenly, Helaena grasps Alicent's hands tightly; cold fingers pressing into her delicate skin. Alicent doesn't think she's even touched Halaena since she was six summers old and could weep at the affection.

“Open a blind eye, for the orange is sweet and green is bitter,” Alicent doesn't take note of the prophetic words, only focusing on the pads of her child's fingers which grip her palm.

Ser Criston approaches the mother and daughter stiffly, bowing his head in respect before speaking.

“Your grace, The Hand of the King, Lord Otto Hightower, wishes to speak with you and the small council,” The knight steps back after saying his words, awaiting the Queen's response.

Alicent looks back at Helaena who has forgone holding her mother's hand and angrily stitches her insect pattern into cloth.

Alicent rises, smoothing out the top skirt of her dark green dress; she embraces the feeling of the whale bone-lined corset digging into her side.

The silver embellishments across the dress weigh down her movements and she touches the star of The Seven that hangs peacefully around her neck.

“God's be good,” Is what she thinks as religion is all she can call upon for mercy.

Ser Criston gazes upon Alicent with a look of urgency and respect. Alicent clears her throat and folds her hands in front of her.

She stands tall and strong as one from the House of the Dragon should, with a faux bravado of one of them.

The woman thinks of what her Grandchild said. “Nothing but mere weeps of water in a world filled with wine,” Alicent's cup is spilling over with it, the red staining everything she touches.

“Daughter, I expect to see you at supper. Lead the way Ser Criston,” Alicent leaves without another glance at the Princess, her hands clammy around each other.

Helaena nods and smiles shyly at her mother's retrieving form. Alicent Hightower may not have been a mother to her, but in this dance, she will walk a path of fire, or poison.

Helaena prays to the old Gods and the new ones, "Green must find her way to orange, or all is lost. The dragons will dance, and die, surrounded by fire and blood.”

Helaena prays to the God's, her fingers shaking, because she knows the God's can be good, just as well as unforgiving.

High Valyrian Translations ~

Rūs ~ Baby.

ñuha dōna valītsos ~ My sweet boy.

ñuha tresy ~ My son.

Kepa ~ Dad/Father.

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bohemian-nights · 1 year

Text

Arlī(Anew)-Chapter 4

Word Count: ~5,431 words

Rating: 18+

Warning ⚠️: Uncle/niece incest (mild smut)

Description: “She has yet to give you a child.” Naerys hand flew to her stomach. Peering through the crack in the door that Daemon had left to take a look to see the scene that was playing out in their chamber.

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 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

————————————-🐉————————————

116 AC-Kings Landing

“That was then Rhaenyra,” Daemon's quiet voice could be heard from their solar, awakening Naerys from her restless nap. She had tried to sleep but had not been able to find an agreeable position in which she could take her mid-day slumber. Instead, she lies in the realm between reality and dreams. Constantly drifting in and out of consciousness.

In the fortnight they had spent at the capital it seemed as if Naerys could not get enough rest. She woke up tired and went to bed in the same state. Her days had become a monotonous string of court proceedings that she struggled to find her footing.

The sun set and the sun rose and a new day of court would begin. An endless parade of pageantry and tittering empty-headed smiles. The young princess longed for the quiet solitude of Dragonstone. Some nights she would lie awake going through every interaction she had that day.

Laena, her husband, and the rest of house Velaryon were stuck on Driftmark. A coming storm had made their journey to Kings Landing impossible. Alicent and Rhaenyra had taken it upon themselves to entertain her in her cousin's absence. If it was not Alicent with her constant teas, sewing circles, and worrying looks it was Rhaenyra and her jibs. Searching her face to see which one would hit its target.

Naerys' husband's general absence had not helped matters. She knew that her uncle had not meant to neglect her. Perhaps neglect wasn’t even the right word for it. The simple fact of the matter was that duty had called. One could hardly say no to the king. Least of all when he is your elder brother.

Daemon was back in the Viserys good graces. All was forgiven since the debacle of their wedding had put further strain on the brother's relationship. Daemon had been invited to attend small council meetings. Lord Strong surprisingly did not object to her husband’s presence on the small council. The lord undoubtedly wanted to keep the peace and was willing to make sacrifices to do so. The rest of the council had followed the hand’s lead.

The rogue prince's seat at the meetings was in an unofficial capacity of course, but some position on the council would no doubt be offered to him once more. He would take it. Daemon was never one for the shadows. Dragonstone was less than stimulating to the mind. At court he was in his element once more.

Naerys herself had been offered to attend a council meeting, but Rhaenyra had put her off from taking up the offer. “Naerys will be bored out of her mind uncle. Wouldn’t you aunt?” It was said with the same condescending tone that she always spoke with. The remark stung, but not as much as her other taunts.

“Children are a joy.” Rhaenyra had found her bullseyes. As Rhaenyra cooed over her black-haired sons, Naerys had to hold back from snapping at the woman. The realm's delight had gotten with child without having to bat so much as an eye. She had given birth to two healthy sons. Two healthy heirs. Not all women were so lucky.

Naerys apparent lack of children had been a source of gossip throughout the Red Keep. Rhaenyra had seen to it. Among the ladies at court, the detail of her empty womb was a favorite topic of conversation. She’s barren. She can not give him children. Poor thing. Perhaps the prince will take a lover again. The young princess would have faltered under the growing weight of the chatter had she not suspected that their efforts to have an heir might yet be fulfilled.

“It wasn’t very long ago.” Rhaenyra’s high-pitched whisperings interrupted the younger girl from her memories. Bringing her back to her present reality, Naerys reached for the robe hanging off her changing room's screen to cover her nakedness. The capital was much warmer than Dragonstone. Even when Daemon did not join her in sleep, she remained comfortable throughout the nights.

“She has yet to give you a child.” Naerys hand flew to her stomach. Peering through the crack in the door that Daemon had left to take a look to see the scene that was playing out in their chamber. Her husband stood by a freshly lit fire with a drink in his hand. Rhaenyra’s back was turned towards her as she faced their uncle.

“So has Laenor.” Naerys could see Rhaenyra visibly wincing from where she stood. Her body jumped slightly at their uncle's words. Daemon looked unbothered, almost bored with the flow of conversation as he swirled the amber liquid in his goblet before taking another slow sip. He had not taken his eyes off the firelight in their chambers.

“She may never give you heirs.” A sneer was evident in her voice. Her spine stilling, holding her head high once more. “What good is my cousin, a Valyrian bride, good for if she has not done her duty to you?” It was a bluff. Naerys could not be put aside so easily. The king would not allow it. Both Ser Vaemond and Lord Corlys would raise hell if an accident were to occur. She was the blood of old Valyria, not a common Andal lady.

“She’s my wife Rhaenyra.” He had lowered his voice. Daemon had finally turned around to glare down at the realm's delight. The dying light of the day coupled with the glow from the fire cast his eyes in a tenebrous haze. “You will do well to remember that.”

“Lady Rhea Royce was your wife as well.” Rhaenyra let out a bitter laugh as she continued on. Unconcerned with the shadows that crossed their uncle's face. “What did you call her? Your bronze bitch. Have you forgotten her already?”

It was easy enough to forget that Daemon had ever been married to another. Her husband never brought up his ill-fated union with the vale woman. Naerys had never even met the woman. She only existed in the outer reaches of her mind as a faceless memory.

“You promised me and yet you married her.” Her cousin's anger and desperation had grown into something else. Rhaenyra grabbed Daemon. Pulling the tall man into her space. “You promised me.” Her husband did not move from her cousin's grasp. Daemon began to stroke her forearm. The touch was intimate. As if they had done it a million times before. Rhaenyra’s words echoed in Naerys' mind.

Naerys did not know what the two got up to during her visits or what happened between the two before their respective marriages. She would not ask now. The past lay in the past. It was best kept that way. Daemon was ever the attentive husband these days. She would not bring up old misdeeds, but it seemed that these wounds appeared whether she wanted them to or not.

“Rhaenyra.” It was said with a sigh. The venom was gone from his gaze. Her husband closed his eyes briefly as if to gather his bearings. His fingers continued their descent across Rhaenyra’s arm. Naerys could feel her blood begin to boil. She was grateful that no objects lay within her reach or else she would have hurled them at her uncle's head.

“Kosti sagon biare kesīr.” Daemon did not reply. His fingers had finally ceased their movement. He cast his violet eyes towards the door where his wife hid behind. Naerys froze hoping he had not seen her.

“Would you abandon Ser Harwin so easily?” Naerys could see her husband leaning down as if to whisper a poorly kept secret in her cousin's ear. Rhaenyra had taken a lover herself. She was not left without companionship. She found her own distractions.

“I had no choice.” Rhaenyra sputtered at her uncle's question. Her desperation returned as she reached out to bring him near her.” I was alone. We both were.” Excuses fell from her lips, but came upon deaf ears. Daemon spurred his niece’s advances this time. Moving further away from her grasp back towards the fire.

“I am not alone Rhaenyra.” Daemon turned his back fully towards the fire to face Rhaenyra, but he did not look at his niece as he had said the words. Naerys felt her husband's gaze lock onto her. A grin spread across his face which seemed to grow when he saw the fury within his wife.

Rhaenyra had yet to see her, but the woman was burning up with her own barely contained-rage. She almost fluttered past her as she made her way to exit their chambers, but her lilac eyes finally landed on her cousin. The princess yanked open the iron-framed oak door, bringing in a draft, to face her cousin. Naerys pulled her robe tighter around her body to ward off the chill.

“He never stays in one bed for long.” Rhaenyra’s eyes cast down at Naerys stomach with a mirthless sneer. The older girl bent down slightly to spit her next words in her cousin's ear. “If he ever puts a babe in you he’ll just move on to the next one.” The older girl cast one last look at their uncle, before storming from the room.

A wave of dizziness came over Naerys. Daemon was by her side with surprising speed. His smirk had fallen as he helped her into his chair, seating her on his lap before handing her a goblet of water fussing over her as if he were a mother hen. “I’ve sent for Maester Orlys.” He urged her to drink the cooling liquid. Her anger at her husband faded with each sip. “We are not going.”

Naerys had nearly forgotten Jacaerys name-day feast. Rhaenyra had pushed it back as far as she could, but now that Ser Harwin and the Velaryon party had finally arrived the feast was to take place that night.

“We must.” They hadn’t much of a choice. Their absence at the festivities would be noted. Daemon may not care what the “sheep” gossiped about, but Naerys would not add fuel to the growing pyre. They still had to do their duty.

Naerys made ready to climb off her husband’s lap though her Daemon would not release her. He merely shushed her as he brought the back of his hand up to stroke his niece's sable cheek. He gave her a dark look before he leaned in, catching her open mouth by surprise. Their pink tongues danced tangling with one another briefly before her uncle pulled away.

“Ao issi issa vys issa byka mēre.” Daemon buried his silver head in her neck. He was breathing her in as he softly petted the silver coils at her nape. Naerys let herself be fawned over. Her husband's words and gentle ministrations soothed the last remnants of the dull ache she had felt moments ago. “You mean more to me than you could possibly know.”

It occurred to her that for all of his bolstering and saccharine remarks Daemon had never spoken those three little words. They had been married for a year now and yet in some ways Naerys still felt like she did not know her husband at all of his true opinion of her.

Was a man like her husband even capable of such feelings? Was he even capable of feeling that way toward her? Love was not a requirement of marriage, but Naerys was certain that she carried half of him inside of her. Surely that meant something. Was she to share a child with a man who ran hot one minute and cold?

“Get dressed sweetling.” Daemon snapped Naerys from her thoughts with a start. Releasing her from his lap with a final kiss on her temple before turning quickly to head to his own antechamber to do the same.

The rogue prince did not stop to check back on her, but his wife did not miss the glance he gave her before he had left to change. Nor did she miss when he hesitated to leave her in the first place. Naerys knew that she was burning under his fire, but perhaps he burned in hers as well. Or perhaps she was too hopeful. Believing in fairytales, words made of wind, and gallant knights where there were none to be found.

If it was something Naerys mother's family were known for it was how to make an entrance. In Velaryon fashion, they arrived late. They were the last ones to arrive at the Red Keep for the little prince's festivities and what an entrance they had made. Particularly Laena’s girls.

The little darlings had stolen the show. Baela and Rhaena were not yet half a year old and yet their presence dazzled the court. They were small little things that had inherited their mother's silver waves and the lilac eyes of house Velaryon. Sans their coloring, which was all Ser Harwin, they looked like the spitting image of their mother.

Naerys held onto the belief that babies could change until she saw Luke and Jace near their sire. Laenor’s “sons” had not a stitch of their “father” in them, nor their mother for that matter. One had only to look at Ser Harwin to see who fathered them.

Naerys had not meant to ambush her cousin, but Laena had arrived too late for a private chat over tea as she had wanted. She and Daemon were officially due to depart for Dragonstone in the coming days. Regardless of whether they made that journey together or not, the feast was likely Naerys' only chance to learn the truth of the situation.

Her cousins had not denied the affair. “My daughter will be queen,” Laena smiled at the passing ladies of the court as they took a turn about the room. “My youngest will likely be the lady of Driftmark.” She was a daughter of house Velaryon and a dragonrider. She held her head high as they passed by her husband. Ser Harwin smiled at his wife, bouncing one of their daughters in his hold. “I am happy with what I have dear cousin.”

Naerys could not understand how her cousin could be so calm in the face of everything. Laena had the patience of a septa. The young princess did not believe she could endure being around her husband’s mistress day in and out, much less embrace the situation with open arms. She would have grown mad by now, but her oldest cousin possessed a quiet acceptance that was lacking in even those twice her age.

Princess Rhaenys bristled whenever Rhaenyra or her sons came near. She seemed to avoid her good son altogether. Leaving for the opposite side of the room when the captain of the city watch ventured too close to her. Her behavior was a stark contrast to how her husband approached the subject of their grandsons and their sire

Lord Corlys for all intents and purposes appeared unconcerned. Baela, Laena’s oldest, was already betrothed to the future king of the seven kingdoms. From Laena’s own mouth Rhaena would be betrothed to the heir of her father's seat. As long as her uncle's blood sat upon the Driftwood throne he would not deny the strong boys the privilege of the Velaryon name.

Naerys' other uncle was a different matter. If there was any question of Ser Vaemond’s views on the future king and the Lord of Driftmark one need only to see the sneers the dark man gave his good niece and her sons to decipher his true opinion.

Laena was called away to deal with a teething Rhaena. Naerys was left alone. Daemon stood on the opposite side of the hall with Lord Boremund and her aunt Rhaenys. Her husband met her eyes, giving her a smirk. She might have gone over to join them, but though he was good-natured she always found the storm lord too brutish for her tastes.

“You glow my princess.” A foreign voice emerged from the shadows. Naerys turned to its source to come face to face with a ghost. Lords and Ladies gilded around the great hall with practiced ease. Not paying any attention to them. Naerys wondered if the woman was a figment of her imagination, but she knew that her eyes did not deceive her when Rhaenyra stared at her from where she sat at the high table with a mocking leer.

Lady Mysaria stood as an unnaturally pale thin creature cloaked in a hooded robe. Naerys had only seen her husband's former mistress from a distance. She had been a child then, but The woman had not changed much from her memory.

“Thank you.” Naerys did not know how else to respond. It was best to take her words at face value than see them as something more. The woman reached out a milky hand to brush her stomach. Her hands were cold. Cold enough to feel through the layers of dark gown she wore. Naerys tried not to flinch at her touch. Something told her not to falter under the pale woman’s stare.

“You have not told him have you?” The white worm continued to caress her stomach. Naerys dared not to breathe. She feared that if she did her body would give into the cold. “Children are fickle creatures. A blessing from the Gods that can be so easily taken away before they are even born.” She smiled and the chill spread. “Fear not princess, your husband shall have his heir.” Mysaria turned her violet gaze on the other side of the room towards where the princess had last seen her husband.

Naerys did not want to follow it, but she could not resist. Lord Boremund and Rhaenys had left from Daemon's side. Their presence had been replaced by a visiting Lysenni lady. Her white hair gleamed and reflected off of the hall’s ember glow. The lady had her hand resting on Daemon’s arm.

The rogue prince leaned into her hold bending his silver head so that she may whisper in his ear. Whatever she had said made the two descend into laughter. Naerys felt her face heat up. She tried to contain her fire, but she felt herself spiraling at the next words the white worm's breathed into her ear. “His heir and more to spare.” Mysaria was not known for her gift of prophecy, but she had known Daemon.

He will get bored of you. Rhaenyra’s unspoken words rang around in her head. She could no longer hear the noise of the festivities around her. Daemon had his fill. Naerys was just a plaything to him. A useful necessity that he was bound to, but the bonds of marriage meant little to her husband. He was back to where he wanted to be. He can not survive in one bed alone. It did not matter what pretty words he muttered to her in the dark of their chambers. Daemon was not built for it.

“Are you well princess?” Ser Gwayne had removed himself from his post and was by her side before she could blink. Holding her forearm up with practiced ease. Concern was written plainly across his face. Lady Mysaria had slinked back to whatever hole she had crawled out from, but the princess could still feel the chill she had left behind. Naerys felt eyes watching her every move. She could barely breathe under their stares.

“Would you escort me to my seat Ser?” Naerys did not have to explain she would not make it there herself. The Hightower knight was not the only one who had noticed her distress. Daemon was thundering across the Red Keeps great hall. The fury of the dragon blazing in his eyes.

Naerys met Ser Gwayne’s dark eyes before nodding her head in the direction of the oncoming storm. I do not want him whisking me off somewhere to simper out more empty words. The knight gave her a small smile in understanding. Taking her arm to escort her into the crowd, but Daemon had made their way towards them before they could.

“Thank you Ser Gwanye, but your assistance is no longer required.” Daemon sneered at the younger man. His empty sword hand twitches at his side. Viserys had not allowed her husband to bring Dark Sister to the feast. Only the guards had a need for weapons. Naerys thanked the Gods for her uncle’s foresight.

“I will go when the princess dismisses me.” The Hightower knight stood his ground this time. His dark eyes stared her husband down. The two were at a crossroad. Naerys wondered if the two would cause a scene.

“She is my wife Ser. You will release her this instant or you will not see to the end of this feast your dear sister has so dutifully planned.” Daemon's grip tightened on her. Only relaxing it when she let out a wince. Naerys would not meet his eyes. Her husband had no right to his foul temper. He had embarrassed her enough for one night. She would no longer placate him.

“Aunt,” a small voice called from the edge of the crowd. Aemond stood beckoning Naerys over to where he and his siblings sat on the far end of the high table. Naerys had never been more grateful for the distraction. Ser Gwayne let her go upon hearing his nephew, but Daemon would not fold.

“Our nephew calls for me my lord.” Naerys felt herself burning up as she finally lifted her head to gaze up at her husband. “May I go to him or are you mistrustful of little boys as well as the knights of your brother’s City Watch?” She expected her husband, but instead, he began to drag her to the king's youngest children.

They passed by the Lysenni lady Daemon had been enchanted with moments before. “Princess.” It was said with a curtesy and a polite smile. One which Naerys did not return. How could she expect her to when she had so blatantly made a pass at her husband with her in the very same room?

“She’d sooner take you into her bed than see me in it, you spoiled thing.” Daemon went to caress her arm, but the princess jerked from his touch. Her husband’s boldness would never cease to astound her. Naerys dug her heels into the floor. A move that she would regret as he threw her over his shoulder. Some of her uncle’s visiting guests looked their way, but the lords and ladies of the court were far used to the rogue prince's antics.

“Are you ill aunt?” Aemond asked with a frown as Naerys' uncle deposited her in an empty seat to Helaena’s left. Daemon moved to sit in the chair to her right, next to his brother's second son.

“Your aunt is fine.” Daemon placed a kiss on the back of her hand before setting their joint hands on the oak table. “She’s just tired.” Naerys sunk her nails into the back of her uncle's hand. It was not enough to draw blood, but it did cause the prince to grunt in discomfort.

She challenged her husband with a raised eyebrow. The man relented with a smirk breathing a threat into his niece’s ear. “Behave or you will not be able to walk tomorrow.” Naerys released her claws with a glare.

The children seemed to pay no mind to the older prince and princesses' heated exchanges. Aemond began to prattle on about some Valyrian text he had come across to his “nuncle.” Aemond and Damon's relationship had improved greatly. It was in no small part to Naerys.

With Naerys' increasing dizzy spells Daemon had forbidden her from flying alone. The royal couple would take turns riding Caraxes and Silverwing together. Carving out some time in the day to visit their dragons. By the second week of their stay in the capital, Aemond would often wait for them at the Dragon Pit entrance. Trying to catch a glimpse of their dragons with wonder in his eyes.

The young prince had no dragon of his own. His egg had long since turned to stone. Aegon had already begun to tease his brother about his dragonless state. His siblings' dragons were too small to ride, but they would soon even little Daeron would become Dragonriders while their brother remained without so much as a dragon to call his own.

The queen was not overly fond of her children’s dragons, but she understood the importance of the bond between a Targaryen and their dragon. She knew how her second son longed for an end to his dragonless state. It took little to convince Alicent to allow him the privilege of a dragon ride. Daemon had not been able to say no either after she had ambushed him while he was still coming down from his high one night.

“I would be grateful kepus if you— if you were to take Aemond with you and Caraxes on your next ride.” The two lay panting in each other’s embrace. Naerys combed her fingers through silver locks as he lay on top of her. The princess winced as her husband replaced his spent cock with his fingers. “Kostilus kepus.”

Daemon's eyes remained glazed over as he watched his digits move in and out of her spasming cunt. Fucking his cum back into his niece while his thumb drew small circles on her clit. “Ao issi sīr gevie byka mēre.” The rogue prince suddenly removed his fingers from within her as the princess was on the crest of another release. Naerys whined at her ruined climax, but her husband only shushed her. “Ao drējī issi vēttan syt issa”

Some of his seed leaked out wetting the silk sheets below, but the lovers paid it no mind as Daemon brought his fingers to his niece's waiting mouth. Naerys eagerly lapped at their combined spends while her husband gave into her demands.

The boy had been ecstatic when Daemon had helped him climb upon Caraxes back. Naerys watched them from the dragon pit entrance with a less than enthused Ser Criston who acted more like the boy's father than his mother's guard as they made their descent into the horizon. Aemond took to the sky’s with a fever she had not seen apart from Daemon and Laena.

Naerys reached for the goblet of water that was placed in front of her. Most of the nausea she had felt in the past had dissipated, but the dizziness remained. Helaena looked up at her with a smile. She was a sweet quiet girl, if not a bit spacey. Alicent’s daughter placed a small hand on her belly with a wistful smile.

“Do not fret aunt. My sister shall be healthy and beautiful.” Dragon dreams. Naerys did not know what to say. Daemon narrowed his eyes at their niece's words, but he made no comment. Only Aegon would grace the table with his thoughts on his sister's riddles.

“Mother isn’t pregnant you nitwit.” Aemond looked as if he wanted to throttle his own brother. Even Helaena had turned her nose up at the unruly boy. Aegon’s ill-mannered behavior remained unchecked by both the king and his mother. His sire seemed to barely acknowledge his existence while Alicent remained at a loss for how to best deal with it.

The king made his way to retire for the evening. He had stayed far longer than he usually did at the feasts of late. Those seated at the high table rose with him as was customary before Viserys would depart. Naerys tried to rise with the rest of the table, but Daemon rested his hand on her shoulder to stop her. As she looked at the pale hand Naerys felt what little was left of her restraint vanish.

She no longer cared if she made a scene. Let the court see how the rogue prince viewed her. The princess managed to shake free of her husband's hold. In her haste, she rose too quickly. Tripping over the leg of her chair she had pushed too far back, Naerys felt herself lose her balance. Her husband caught her before she could hit the Great Hall’s stone floors.

Daemon's voice was the first Naerys heard when she returned to consciousness. She felt sluggish and drowsy. The princess spied from the corner of her eyes one of Maester Orlys’ tinctures on her vanity. Whatever the kindly man had given her had a foul aftertaste.

“How long have you known sweetling?” Daemon did not look angry as he sat in a chair that had been placed by their bed dragging the back of his hand softly across her cheek. He in fact reminded her of a kicked puppy. His gaze was as tender as his touch. The rogue prince looked more like a boy of ten than a man grown. Naerys supposed that was really what he was underneath his bravado.

“When Alicent first invited me to tea.” She felt a weight lift off her shoulder at the revelation. Naerys had her suspicions before, but she had not been sure until Alicent had made it plain to her.

“Ser Gwayne was only trying to help.” Daemon winced. He should have been there for her, not the Hightower knight, but he would apologize for jumping to conclusions. It was not in his nature to express regret for his actions. Naerys understood why. Their fires burned too hot to allow them to. “How far along did Maester Orlys say I was?”

“Three moons.” The baby would arrive in time before the new year. Enough time to get her affairs in order. Enough time to travel to Dragonstone and then Driftmark if she so wished. Naerys wondered if she could fly there now. Daemon answered that question for her.

“We can journey back home.” He gave her a small smile. Petting her silver twists as if she were a child. Her handmaids must have come in at some point to braid up her hair. Something that she would be thankful for in the morning.

“You may stay.” Daemon began to tense up at her words. She reached out in search of the scars on her husband's neck. Stroking the rough skin with a soft hand. It was funny enough, but Naerys felt much calmer now. Looking back on the day the princess had realized that she had let others draw conclusions for her now. Conclusions that only one man could provide.

“I will go to Driftmark.” She tried to sound absent-minded as she said it. Continuing to trace over her husband's scars, threading her fingers into his hair. A storm cloud came over her husband. Naerys could not contain her smile at seeing her uncle's reaction.

Daemon noticed it, but he made no comment as he fell to his knees to kiss the top of her crown before burrowing his silver head into her neck. “I am yours you stubborn girl. I am no one, but yours as you are mine.” The man was exhausted. A day of pointless fighting had worn them both out. “We will go to Dragonstone. I’ve had enough of this city and it’s gossip.”

“I could lose it.” Daemon tensed up once more underneath her fingers. He removed himself from her neck. Violet eyes met a pair of amethyst orbs. It was bad luck to speak of such things. Especially in the early days, but the thought gnawed at her. So many things could go wrong. Naerys never considered herself a very lucky person.

“Ao issi daor nykeā jaes kepus.” Daemon was a man. He behaved as if he were a dragon, but he was still a man and Naerys was a mere woman. They were flesh, blood, and bone. They could not bend fate to suit them. Mortals had their limitations. The king talked of prophecies, but Daemon was little better with his blood obsession.

“Your mother doubts you byka zaldrīzes.” Her husband bent down to place a kiss on her still flat belly. “She worries too much.” Lifting up to face her once more Daemon grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. Lending her the strength that had left from her body. “Iksā ñuha ābrazȳrys. Iksā emare ñuha riña. Īlva riña. Iksi jāre lenton.”

Naerys was too tired to argue with her husband. There was still plenty to sort out, but the day had been long. The princess let herself be petted as she drifted off into a dreamless wonder. She would worry about their future in the morning when her head was clear.

Translations:

Kosti sagon biare kesīr: We can be happy here

kepus: uncle

Ao issi issa vys issa byka mēre: You are my world my little one

Kostilus kepus: Please uncle

Ao issi sīr gevie byka mēre: You are so beautiful little one

Ao drējī issi vēttan syt issa: You truly are made for me

Ao issi daor nykeā jaes kepus: You are not a god uncle

byka zaldrīzes: little dragon

Iksā ñuha ābrazȳrys. Iksā emare ñuha riña. Īlva riña. Iksi jāre lenton: You are my wife. You are having my child. Our child. We are going home.

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allkordelia · 2 years

Text

Do You Love Me

You were on the bed in daemon's chamber waiting for him when you felt a flutter in your belly, your hand moved over rubbing it feeling a bit out of it that this was happening.

You laid flat on the bed looking up at the ceiling, when daemon wanted you to come with him to king's landing from driftmark you thought it be an fun adventure being in a new place, staying at the red keep, getting treated like royalty, and having daemon's undivided attention.

It was one of those dreams you always wish will happen when you were a child, but in yours you never imagine the rogue prince take a liking to you of all people. You sigh thinking about how you got to this state of living with the targaryen prince, it wasn't a good memory to go back on but it did seal your fate with your lover in the end that made it worth it.

You were on the couch in dragonstone when your mind went to the past couple of months of you being with daemon, you hummed to yourself at the fun you had between the sheets and out of them you never wanted it to end. But, that feeling was shortly lived after weeks of staying in the red keep. He started confining you to his chambers while he was away doing his "duties", and when he finally got bored of his duties he took you away to dragonstone where he stayed with you for a month or two before leaving you there to your own devices.

He didn't even tell you that he was leaving until you found out when you saw him riding on caraxes from the balcony of his chambers, and when he finally came back he brought another woman with him with tan skin and dark hair. You remember waiting for him to come back to his chambers so you could demand to go back home for leaving you here all alone, it was nearing midnight when he walked through the door the first thing you grabbed was a book you brought from his huge library.

Before you got the chance to throw it he had you on the bed naked and fucked out of your mind to point that you forgot what he did to make you angry, after that night he didn't come back not until the next day and then he didn't come back the following day but he did the day after that so it took the seventeenth night since he got back for you to realized that he was jumping between you and the other woman. It was, mysaria, the name you come to found out as the other woman night today when you were waiting in front of the fireplace for your tea.

You twist and untwist the white curly streak that you got from your father around your finger as you stared into the fire, the knock on the door made you shoot up from your seat and hurry to crack open the door.

"Did anyone see you?" The older maester shook his head.

"Good." You opened the door wider seeing the white teacup on a small plate in his hand.

"You should give it a couple of minutes or more to cool down before drinking, m'lady." You nodded taking it from his hand looking down at the light amber liquid.

"Mind you, m'lady. Beware that this tea has very dangerous effects." You looked at the older gentleman frowning a bit.

"I'll take that in consideration, thank you have good night maester." The old man bowed walking away before you closed the door you looked up snd down the hall to make sure their weren't anyone spying on you.

You walked back over to the couch you blew on the steaming cup, the smell of honey and mint engulf your senses before setting it down on the table, you moved your hair from your face and behind your ear before grabbing the book next to you to past the time as you wait for the tea to cool down. As you were reading you heard the door to your chamber's open making you stand up and turn to see daemon, you moved to the side blocking the tea from his vision.

"Daemon." You said flatly.

"Issa jorrāelagon." He smiled moving his eyes all over you.

"Shouldn't you be with your other mistress night." He came to stand in front of you as his hands moved gently up and down your arms.

"I took her back to king's landing."

"Really? Does this mean you taking me back to diftmark." You asked trying not to sound too hopeful, daemon wasn't looking at you as he caress your collarbone.

"You want to leave me?"

"Of course not, but rather than leaving me here all alone you can take me back home...and come get me again once your finish with your duties." He laughed in your face as you said the most peculiar thing.

"So, you can start opening your legs for the sailors and knights...?" He said finally looking at her.

"I don't think so." He pecked you lips before trailing his kisses down your neck.

"I'm just saying–" he cut you off muttering into your neck.

"That's your problem. Your talking when you should be getting on your knees and pleasuring your prince." He hands were grabbing your backside as he leaves love bites on your neck, he tries to back you to the couch but you stumbled knocking against the table making the tea and small plate make a clanking sound.

"A bit late for tea, isn't it." He asked after catching you before you fell, you looked to see he was looking down at it with curiosity.

"Just something to help me sleep...you know how I am when I'm in a new place," you said you could tell he wanted to inspect the light amber liquid making you slide you hands from his arms to his abdomen to his get to his belt making you unbuckling them to draw his attention back to you.

" You should undress you smell." He turned his head back to you before letting out a pleased hum when your hand rubbed his cock through his pants.

"I thought you like my scent." He says taking off his leather jerkin tossing it to the side, only in his white tunic showing off his chest before he leaned his head against her own.

"Oh, I do...just not when it's mixed with another woman perfume." You backed up away from him before flopping on the couch.

"Is that a hint of jealousy, my love?" He asked staring down at you making you snort.

"please..." you muttered leaning your head back on the rolled arm of the couch, "...I have nothing to feel for such things as envy over who you fuck."

"So, you wouldn't care if i bring another woman back here?" You turned your head looking at him.

"No, it's your castle...you are the prince and future heir. I am your whore you do not belong to me so you can do as you wish. My only purpose here is to please and make you happy." You shrugged slightly as you watch him walk closer to you before kneeling down by your side.

"So, if I tell you stay here with me forever, will you?" He asked his fingertips grazed your expose legs and thighs.

"Yes." You answered feeling a bit of ill in the pit of your stomach, in the amount of time of being with daemon. His slowly started to becomeproprietorial over you to the point that you felt suffocated and it makes you mad that you couldn't really do much about it.

You couldn't tell him no because of his temper you know that daemon wouldn't put a hand on you, but there are other ways to hurt a woman without using violence.

"I'm pleased to hear that especially since..." he said softly trailing his kisses from side of your thigh up to your waist, "...I want to see your belly swell with my sons and daughters." He chuckled before peaking the top of your stomach causing you to tense up and sit up making him sit on his knees. You looked at him stunned at his words, he tilt his head to the side with a small grin making you scoff.

"Don't jest about something like that." You exhaled heavily.

"What? You do not wish to have childern, I mean I get it children can be such irritating creatures." His hands running up and down your calf and thigh while looking at you, you glanced at him before looking away into the fireplace.

"I do want childern...I just don't want them–right now." You said looking down at your hand playing with your ring.

"You mean you don't want them from me." You snapped you head him as he wore a serene look.

"I didn't say that–"

"No, but you were thinking it and it's okay." He said rubbing your knee making you bite the inside of your bottom lip as you felt relieved.

"The gods will decide when it's time for us to have childern, and until then we will have to keep trying." He gave you a placid smile before kissing your knee, making you let out a nervous giggle feeling that same dread creep up in your stomach again.

"...yea." you leaned forward grabbing the tea before you were stopped by daemon's hand wrapping around your wrist, a bit of fear shoot through as you looked at daemon as he took the cup of your hand.

He smelled it before he gave you a soft scowl getting up, "Daemon–" you started.

"Are you pregnant?" You looked at him for a minute.

"I don't know...I been throwing up all day." He look down at you with a narrow eyes before glancing down at him.

"Your lying again." You shook your head opening your mouth, " ...you know why I know your lying, because the maester told me you been visiting him for the past six days straight since I been back." You looked up at him with a wary look as you swallow thickly.

"Daemon–"

"Do you want to drink it?" He asked calmly.

"I-I don't–I–"

"It's a simple question, do you want it?" He said again looking down at you, you hesitated looking st him before glancing at the cup.

"Yeah, I want it." You whispered bracing yourself for his wrath.

"Ok." He held the cup in front of you waiting for you to grab it, you look at him curiously as you looked between him and the cup.

"Take it." He urge straighten his arm a bit towards you, you exhale feeling s bit shaky as you pulled your hand up to grab it only for it to be thrown at the fireplace. The cup hits the stone causing it to shattered and the liquid to stain the carpet, you looked at daemon as if he lost his mind as he gave you a curious look back.

"What the in seven hells, daemon? Are you mad." You stood up looking at him.

"I could be asking you the same thing, did you really thing I was going to let you kill our unborn son." He took a step forward only for you take a step back.

"Daemon, please. We can not have this child." You pleaded backing up as he walk towards you.

"We can and we will..." You stopped s good distance away from him as we stood behind the couch.

"I'm not having this baby."

"...you make it sound like you have a say, I am your prince you do as I say–"

"No!" You snapped.

"I will not raised your bastard, daemon. I will not give him the life that was burden upon me by my own lord father." You hissed, you told him this long ago about your father, you never mentioned a name but he knew and you told him of your life in the brothel with your mother and he told me about his own childhood.

"I'll marry you–"

"Please. How long will that..hmmm? Your just going to get bored and leave to found something better and when you do so will I." He looked stern at you taking a step closer but you stood your ground.

"Your not taking my son and if i have to I will lock you away in the highest tower I can found and have you remain there until our child is born."

"And then what? You gonna parade him around the royal court, they will not accept him as their own when they found out that his mother's a bastard whore."

"You can't be a whore if you only had one customer...which was me." He nonchalantly.

"Not the point I still worked in a pleasure house–" you dismissed his comment.

"As a cupbearer." He rolled his eyes closing the distance between you both as his hands went to your arm.

"I understand your concern but I want to have this child with you, I want to be with you." You shook your head in pain.

"For how long? I can't be stuck in this castle all alone with no help and have my child questioned if his father loves him or not."

"I will never leave your side or our child, I would rather burn than to be absent father," his hand grasped your face before leaning his head against your own, "I'll never abandon you or our baby I promise." You covered his hand with yours before nodding.

The door opened making you turn your head to see daemon, he was gone all night with his golden cloaks killing and maiming criminals. He eyes wondered around the room quickly before landing on you he smiled coming over to you, you moved away from to the other side of the bed as he tried to kiss you.

"Uh-uh stop right there." You put up a finger stopping him in his tracks as he went to climb on the bed.

"Your not getting in our bed smelling like a dead rat." He rolled his eyes backing up and moving his side of the bed and kneeling by side you.

"Can I atleast get a little peck?" He asked.

"No." You deadpan, "maybe if you change and take a bath, I considered it." You smiled mockingly.

"I can't have to attend the small council, my brother wishes to see me." He rolled his eyes leaning his head on the bed.

"Yeah, after the screams of your victims echo through the wee hours of the night, I'm not surpised." He hummed before getting up.

"Let's get this over with." He sighed.

"You have fun." He looked down at you with a look.

"No, your coming with I want you there when I announced our marriage to my brother." You gave a strain look a bit nervous, it been five months and daemon kept his word as he stayed by your side through the pregnancy. You be lying if you said that you weren't nervous anything can happen, and you mean anything as sweet as viserys is he is a bit dense and likes to listen to his hand rather than his own.

Nobody knew that you were with child when we arrived daemon made sure you went straight to his chambers unnotice, he wanted to tell his brother face to face rather than have gossip spread through the castle and spoil his plan. You had a cloak on hiding your body as you walked with daemon holding your hand, you walked in the room to found just three members of the council already here.

"Prince Daemon." They all stood up and bowed to him, no one looked your way as they took their seats. You wanted to stand near the window that overlooked king's landing, but before you could move Daemon pulled you to sit next to him making your nerves multiple with each step. Your free hand moved to your stomach when the doors opened reavling the king and his hand, you were such a nervous wreck that you couldn't even get up and so respect so you just looked down at your lap instead waiting for this to be over.

You were surpised that otto didn't say anything to your presents neither did the king, so the meeting begin and they discussed what happened last night. It seemed like time moved slow as they talked, you glanced at daemon who wore a bored looked as he listened to lord strong talk no wonder he hated coming to these meetings they were so fucking dull. You kept yourself from yawning for the fifth time already, how can anyone stand to listen to otto talk when all he been doing is countering everyones response while the king sat there like a statue.

"Now, that we got that resolved. Daemon. What did you wish to announce." Viserys asked looking over at his brother.

"That I have found a wife and she's expecting." He smiled widely looking at you before looking back at his brother, viserys along with the rest of the men looked stunned.

"O-oh, daemon. That's good news." He looked over at Otto a bit lost for words, before looking back at daemon.

"We will be getting married in the beginning of spring." You looked over at Otto who leaned forward with his hands in front of him.

"And may I asked, m'lady. What house are you from?" You swallow as everyone eyes were on you.

"She's doesn't belong to a house–"

"So, she's a commoner. What do your father do?" He asked.

"I never knew my father, my lord." You answered, "...what about your mother?" The king asked making you looked at him hesitated to answer.

"She was–She worked in a brothel back at diftmark, my king."

"Not only a commer, but a bastard one at that." Otto sighs glancing at the king who wore a small frown, daemon looked at Otto with a void look before turning his attention back to his brother.

"I wish to marry her and I want you there to witness it," the king looked conflicted before he can open his mouth otto spoke up.

"We have already arranged a marriage in The Vale with House Royce to lady rhea royce of runestone." Daemon scoffed.

"The Vale? In the Vale, men are said to fuck sheep instead of women. I can assure you, the sheep are prettier." He said snarky glaring at Otto, you bite your lip holding in snicker.

"She is a good and honorable woman from a great house, while your..." Otto looked at you with disfavor causing daemon put his hand over his sword handle, "...paramour comes from no house has no titles, and fundamentally is a bastard and daughter of a whore. She and her unborn child will bring nothing but shame upon this house." You link your hand with daemon's hand from under the table feeling the rage radiating off him.

"Your words hold nothing to me, she is the woman I wish to marry." Otto rolled his eyes.

"Your grace–" Otto looked to king viserys but daemon cut him off.

"I could have stayed in dragonstone..." he said catching viserys attention, "I could have gotten married without your knowing I could have let you found out through gossip and hearsay but I didn't." Daemon confessed.

"I came to you face to face instead, out of my love for my family and for her. So, I ask you brother for your blessing to marry the woman I love." The men and you were taken back by daemon's words, no one ever heard daemon beg he wasn't weak like that but it seems for you he make a exception.

"You have my blessing."

"Your grace–" Otto said shocked.

"No, I made my decision." The king got up making everyone follow suit, he walked over to you grabbing your hand.

"Welcome to the family." He smiled making you shake his hand thanking him, he left with a brooding otto following after him leaving only you and daemon alone.

"How do you feel?" He asked.

"Like I'm about to be sick." You giggle nervously turning to him, " I can't belive he said yes." Your turned your head to the door where everyone left.

"My brother have a soft heart, one of his biggest weaknesses but also one of his redeeming qualities." His hand rested on your cheek making you to him giving him a teasing smile.

"So, you love me?" He looked down at you before shrugging with a thoughtful look.

"Maybe. Do you love me?" He asked, you made a looking as if you were thinking.

"Hmmm, I'm getting there." You smiled making him lean down and kiss you, but like before you dodge it having him kiss your cheek.

"Come on. You are I need of a bath." He hummed walking behind you with his arms around your waist.

"Will you join me?" He whispered near your ear making nudge him with your elbow slighly making him chuckle.

"I'll think about it." He hmmed again kissing your neck as you giggled echoed through the halls.

#daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x black!reader #black!reader #black oc #x black reader #black reader #blackoc #asoiaf #asoif/got #asoif fanfic #hotd fanfic #daemon targaryen imagine #dark!daemon targaryen x reader

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xximpressions · 2 years

Text

House of the Dragon Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

As of March 11th, 2023

Oneshots

Send a Request!

Series

Raging Fire (Completed): Your Uncle has betrothed you to the King's brother, and when you meet, you are not at all what he expects. (Velaryon!reader)

Heir to Valyria: What if the Targaryens survived the Doom of Valyria only to discover three centuries later that they were not the only family to have made it out? When such news comes to light, the Rogue Prince may be the only one to keep this new House as a friendly ally rather than as a deadly enemy. (Valyrian!reader)

Chapter 1: Intro

Chapter 2: You and the Prince learn new things about one another

Chapter 3: A stroll through the gardens

Chapter 4: You are wed

Chapter 5: The standoff

Chapter 6: Your trial

Chapter 7: The Hand has escaped

Chapter 8: You meet with your Queen

#daemon targaryen #daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfic #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targeryen x oc #daemon targeryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x black!reader

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sayafics · 10 months

Text

Masterlist

The Walking Dead

• Rick Grimes

• Daryl Dixon

The Witcher

• Geralt of Rivia

Chicago One

• Jay Halstead

• Will Halstead

Harry Potter/Marauders

• Regulus Black

House of the Dragons

• Daemon Targaryen

• Criston Cole

#daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon x reader #rick grimes x oc #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x reader x daryl dixon #geralt x oc #geralt smut #geralt x reader #masterlist #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen #regulus black x oc #criston cole x oc #criston cole x reader

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chromiumagellanic06 · 27 days

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The Silver Knight: Warrior, Princess, Wife

Daemon Targaryen/Original Fem [Targaryen] Character

Chapter 29: Complete

MASTERLIST

Summary: Aemond's desires come to truth as Daemon and Naera wed in the way of old Valyria.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: NSFW Content! It's not THAT explicit, only vague kissing and fondling, heavy implications, suggestive themes, breeding kink, etc.

Aemond knocked tentatively on the ebony door, feet shuffling as he turned to his back, then each side, not at all calmed by the endless echoing corridors of the Keep. In his hand he held an ornate box that lay carved with ancient Valyrian runes—the result of his escapades in the King’s Stores, that he had taken it upon himself to deliver to his uncle and half-sister as a marital gift.

And then some. He had a question to ask, assistance to seek from the person he had grown to trust may understand. His half-sister was as selfish as he felt, he knew, and his uncle her husband even graver in his deeds. They were the perfect match, in a way—blood and fire, the epitome of what it meant to be Targaryen. The world would know no peace.

“Come!” He heard Naera scream from within, and he turned the heavy door on its hinges, silent. And entered the solar. It was strewn adrift with papers and letters, books and fresh parchment. Pots of ink sat beside collections of quills, ornate and rough-spun huddled alike, beside bottles of Dornish Red and some strange concoctions in twinkling glass bottles that ranged from the looks of curdled milk to liquid jade. He could smell ginger, at his first step, lemon at his second, and ash and embers when he sat.

Naera sat on her chair, eyes trained on a letter. She read it, expression bearing a soft frown that he realised was the natural way her lips fell, until she smiled, crumpled the pages in her hands and tossed it into the fireplace.

“Good morrow, Aemond.” Aemond turned to the window, one good eye watching the sun make its descent into the waters.

“It is to be evening soon, sister.” Naera followed his gaze to the window, to the haze that would soon be ushered with twilight. Her face glowed differently, he saw. Much had changed since they last met, even if only a moon had turned. As for him.

He’d made his moves carefully, spent stollen moments with the object of his every desire. He’d plucked her flowers she had never held before, told her tales of truth and sometimes even of valour, stollen kisses under the cover of shadowy night, and held to his stealth for protection. It wasn’t enough.

“Ah.” She turned to the door to her chambers, and said, aloud, “The sun sets soon, make some haste, dear groom.” He saw that she still wore a gown of black silk, not the garments of their tradition. He heard laughter from the other side, slurred words in their mother tongue that Aemond couldn’t quite decipher, but he recognised that Naera sat blushing and silent afterwards.

Blushing, for all her warrior-like ways. It was rather different from his sweet true sister’s blushes. Naera seemed scandalised, mischievous, a light flush of red on her cheeks, an embarrassed smile on her lips, but Helaena, Helaena blushed so red he feared he’d have to fetch a maester, turned so high and brilliant, eyes sparkling, lips chapped together that he--right.

He set the box down on the table, “A gift to commemorate your union.”

Naera smiled, inching the box closer to herself for a look. “Thank you—” but the door opened with a shudder.

Aemond’s uncle walked in, scuttered, rather—his steps were hasty. He was dressed in traditional garbs—red and cream, his silver-white hair left free to hang an inch above his shoulders, Dark Sister in her scabbard in his hand.

“No,” Naera covered her eyes, “A Tyroshi priestess once told me that gazing upon your betrothed on your day of marriage is considered ill-luck.” A burst of laughter left her lips.

“And a Valyrian book once told me that I may gaze at my wife as often as I wish.” Daemon left his sword on the table, snatched his wife’s hands away from her face and kissed her lips, with lust and haste, then kissed her forehead, and ran out the door. Aemond watched his back as he left, baffled as to when he had retaken the sword.

“I closed my eyes!” Naera screamed after him. Still laughing, she turned back to Aemond, “What can I do for you, brother?” Brother. He smiled back at her, unable to stop himself.

“Tell me, sister,” he breathed, licked his lips, hesitant. That is why he’d come, he knew. Sure, pay respects to his favourite family members after Helaena, congratulate them on their union, but there was always the other cause. “How can I take her?” Her, her, her; his Helaena, splendid, ethereal beauty wrapped in a promise of treason.

Naera sighed, and he was glad that she’d understood without him having to spend more words.

Naera poured him a cup of wine, water the colour of blood settling into a silver cask, like rubies spilling from a dark slate. Naera froze as she filled it, eyes distant, lost. Then, she asked, voice betraying her dreamy loss of the moment, “Does the Trident have Green Waters?”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head, handed him the cup and returned to her chair.

Aemond swallowed the wine in a breath, eye not leaving his sister’s face. She had paled, that sickly palour returning to her face. She blinked frantically, sipped a cup of water.

“You cannot take her, Aemond,” Take what you want, she had told him some moons ago—and he realised his folly. It was akin to a jerk to wake him from a long sleep.

Gods, what had he been thinking? He couldn’t take her, how could he? Where would they go? What would they do when men came seeking them? Had he been so blinded by his love, that he’d forgone all practicality? He’d hoped that she’d have an answer but—“You can maybe ask her.” He furrowed his eyebrows, a ghostly pain returning from under his eyepatch.

Naera sighed, “A maiden’s word must be your shield if you intend to have her.” Rapers went to the Wall at best, to the headsman at worst. Disgraceful.

“I do not mean to defile her,” Aemond defended, “I wish to wed her—to—” to see her wear the garbs Naera would at dusk, to drink her blood and hold her hand and vow to protect her for all their lives. That was what he wanted.

Naera refilled his cup, “I know, and she knows. The world does not.”

“You could—”

“What?” His sister’s eyes grew cold and cruel, her voice tuned to injure, to pick at his folly and tear him a regretful wound, “Tell the world that you love her? It isn’t so simple.” Aemond looked down, unable to meet those crystal eyes. Every word she spoke was true, and that hurt. Leave the world, he thought, Mother is the one we need convince.

“You can only love for so long without being loved, brother,” Naera sighed, chin dropping to her palm, elbow banging against the table, “You can only run if she wishes it also.” Run with me, Helaena. We’ll wed in the faith of the Seven or that of the Valyrians. We’d be one heart, one soul—just say the word.

“She wants me, I am certain of it.” She hates Aegon, and knows well that their days near quickly. If only mother saw through her schemes.

“It is only mother, even the King—”

Naera shook her head, “Fuck the King,” he smiled at her brashness, “fuck your mother and your cock of a grandsire,” he felt a pang of shame after the moment passed. He hadn’t defended them, he realised. He agreed with his sister. His mother, fuck Alicent, who wouldn’t see past the grey shroud of duty to gaze at the world in all its colour. Love, was the colour he wished to see, he reminded himself. He had caught a glimpse, now he wanted a full look. “Aemond,” she summoned his wits back to her, “Ask her, confide in her, and run, together.”

Dusk hung heavy in the isle of Dragonstone, a curtain of fog descending on the shores as fires were lit and the Blood of the Dragon gathered near the volcanic crypts. It was a cacophony of red and black, the colours of their heritage—silver hair and purple eyes, fire in their veins, all gathered in respect or obligation.

The priest fanned the coal and flames, ornate chalices and candles gathered by Rhaenyra arranged on a block of rock marbled with red and yellow—it was slab of frozen fire mined from the haunted crypts of the Dragons.

Daemon could hear them murmuring through the fog from where he stood on the sandy beach. He could make out the Hightower cunt’s voice, could see her black gown flapping in the breeze even through the fog, and it only irritated him. The Blood of the Dragon had gathered, so why, pray why had the stupid lanterns joined in? His robes were scratchy and cold, the calm breezes did nothing to allay his urgency. The sun was falling into the sea, a streak of gold and saffron following it, and the mists grew pink and red as though the sky itself bled. It was time

The waves rustled the sands calmly as she took his side. Wrapped in a robe nearly identical to his—cream and ruby, adorned with gold, an ornate headdress laid between her braided silver locks. Beautiful. The curve of her nose, the pink flesh of her lips, her eyes—crystals clearer than diamonds painted blue and red, gods.

His ire vapourized, that familiar panging of his heart returning, thud, thud, his heart now beat only for her, it seemed.

He took her hand wordlessly, her chilled touch sending shivers through him, and in his mind, he spoke a prayer.

Let me hold this hand forever.

The rocky shores bristled against her bare feet, reminding Naera of the time she had scaled the ports of Asshai from the rocky ends. It hurt, but it was worth it. Daemon’s hand was warm in hers, his grasp tight and binding, as they crossed the threshold to where their family waited.

The fires flared when they made it to the clearing, the sky reddened like a maiden’s blush—if the Gods could betray more of their intentions, she did not know how. With the cold of the fog, and the warmth of his hand, the serene calmness of this event came a gradual understanding that this was right. She was meant for this—to be his, to hold his hand, to wield her sword for them, to sleep and wake and live beside him. Her uncle who had never cared for her, but now he cared not what the world said as long as he could have her.

Her family stood around the flames; the two branches of the house split over the priest. Viserys stumbled close, wilting hair and face, though he had a guilty smile on. He’d done this in some hope of companionship, but it had grown into a sickly sort of love, he knew.

He took her hand, clasped it in his cold damp one, and pressed a shuddering kiss to her forehead. Naera smiled at him, watched him return to Rhaenyra’s side—Rhaenyra, who smiled in a way most disillusioned, who stood with her husband, her sworn guards, her children, her court, choosing war even in that moment. Across the priest was Alicent, face contorted in distaste for such old ways, her children at her side, all in red and black, a treaty of peace. Aemond gave her a curt nod when she met his eye, a tingling smile on her lips.

The priest—one of the old Keepers of the Dragonpit who still followed those old doomed gods—began his droning, hymns sung to Meleys, the goddess of love and fertility, to Teraxes, to Balerion—to nearly every god, but Naera cared not. This had been the scene, she knew—Daemon shrouded in fog, silent and still, calmness in his eyes.

The priest handed him a blade of obsidian, a shard of glass as black as night that glowed in its shadowy beauty. He ran it down her lower lip, skin splitting instantly, blood pooling. He dabbed his thumb on that red, red, red beauty, and smeared a straight line on her forehead.

I name you woman, fire in your veins, it meant.

She took the blade, and did the same for him, his blood warm against her thumb as she drew three bent lines on his forehead.

I name you man, blood in your nature.

He traced the dagger over his palm, striking a wound deep and true to stand out amongst all thousands scars that he brandished. A line of red dripped down his skin. Naera traced the same wound on her own palm—Of my own will, I thus give you myself, and their hands joined in a flash of pain and flame.

The priest began, “Hen lantoti ānograr va syndroti vāedroma,” Blood of two joined as one, lifeblood dripping to mingle and mix, tethering them to each other.

The priest wrapped a ribbon the colour of night and light over their held hands, blood dripping down through the binds.

“Mēro perzot gīhoti elēdroma iārza sīr,” Ghostly flame and song of shadows.

He handed Naera a chalice of stone and glass, as dark as night, and she tilted the vessel till salt and iron flooded her tongue. Our blood to bind.

“Izulī ampā perzī prumī lanti sēteski,” Two hearts as embers forged in fourteen fires.

Daemon mirrored her acts, his face twisting as their blood laced his tongue. He swallowed it bravely, and watched Naera’s eyes. Close, so close.

“Hen jeny māzilarion, qēlossa ozūndesi,” A future promised in glass, the stars stand witness.

Naera breathed, breaking into a delicate smile again, “I shall be your side forever.”

He took her other hand, eyes never leaving—lilac and lilac, crystal clear and shallow pools of glass. “I shall hold your hand forever.”

“Synroro ōñō jēdo ry kīvia mazvestraksi.” The vow spoken through time of Darkness and Light.

She inhaled, cold, wet air flooding her nose in a rush, and she gazed, gazed, gazed at him, his eyes that refused to leave hers, the wealth of his wisdom yet to be cultivated, the gift of his existence forever claimed by her. She said, “I will defend you.” Against the night, against the light, against whatever was to come. Against every wish to exile, every spat with the greens, every ill word with the King, she will stand by him, she will protect his honour as though it was her own.

He smiled, though both love and mischief twinkled in his eye, “I will warm you.” When the night was dark and full of terrors, when the end came and her will faltered, he shall be with her, he shall give her fire and light. He will warm her bed and hers alone, warm her body when the cold came, warm her spirits over every loss and share her joy over every victory.

Naera said, “I will give it all up for you.” Dorne, Volantis, Pentos, the Dothraki Seas, Asshai, and her dreams—Yi Ti, the Jade Sea, whatever lays east of the Shadow, the very wonders of the world could be laid abandon. She loved too easily, but even the gods had proclaimed this union as perfection.

“I will never hurt you.” Not as he once had, no, never. He will never disappoint her, never let her down, never leave her behind, never let her think that he could survive without her.

“I will love you.” Daemon’s heart lost a weight he did not know he bore, a delightful, fiery blaze in his chest, a joy uncontainable. His, his, his. She was his, every flicker on her eyes belonged to him, every mocking word his, every act of bravery, every witted word. He loved already, but he could love better, now that she loved him also.

His hand flew to her face, thumb smearing the blood at her lip, red, red, red, and to show that he cared, that he loved, that he was willing to understand, he said, “For the night is dark and full of terrors.”

She leaned on her toes and kissed his lips.

His laughter would be her lifeblood, she realised as his heaving breaths reverberated through her chest, made her feel warm, made her feel him, his spirit and not just his body.

“D’you know what they’ll all say,” he spoke into her neck, his nose breathing cool air over the red mark of his bite, “When you grow round and great with my child, again and again?”

She laughed, a fleeting giggle morphing into a ridiculed laugh, “What?” He pulled her into a different corridor, away from their chambers.

“The Princess must really love her uncle’s cock,” the vulgarity made her roll her eyes.

“Maybe they’ll think that the prince has no control over himself,” Naera challenged, “Keeps getting his sweet niece with child, the poor woman.” He pushed her against a wall, cold stone of the corridors of the Keep making her flush and hum, and his hands roamed her flesh like a man starved.

Their lips met, tongues melding, breaths fading until the newly wedded couple panted for breath.

“Poor woman?” His eyes twinkled with the sort of courage that came with deeds best not committed.

“They needn’t know,” she kissed his cheek, arms winding around his neck. “They needn’t know that the idea of bearing her uncle’s seed fills the niece with a selfish joy that she cannot account for.” With a deft flick of his hand, her robes parted, rough linen tearing aloud.

“Oh, but the uncle knows,” he descended on her neck again, “He knows very well how much his niece loves having his spend in her womb.” He hoisted her legs up, lips falling to her breasts.

“Yes, oh, yes he does,” she moaned, wits departing her, fingers tugging at his hair, leading him to the other breast. He complied greedily, nipping, licking, kissing the flesh, leaving red and purple marks on every patch of free skin.

Her garbs were torn and ruined; her headdress abandoned in the hands of Laenor before they had scurried to the corridors in some mad bout of lust. Gods, lust was only one word for what she felt. She felt charged, as though lightning had struck her very soul. She felt fiery, as she often did when he stood beside her.

One kiss to his lips and the sentiment had caught on as a candle-flame blazes into an arsonist’s dream.

Now her swelling flesh was in his hands. She had lapped away the drying blood of his lip, sucked at the tear in his skin till the wound was raw, and now, she was at his mercy once again.

“Daemon,” she called, making him stare into her eyes with his own, lilac flowers and bloody amethysts. Beautiful. His hair was tousled, red streaking his forehead, but his eyes, those eyes that were over a decade older than her own yet were livelier than she had been just moons ago.

“Naera,” he called back, as had become their ritual, and she recalled the sweet bliss of hearing her name from his lips again. Completion, he made her sound complete, made her believe that she could conquer this new land that was marriage and slay this new demon that was mistrust.

Footsteps.

And the moment broke, but he was smiling as he leaned his face close to hers, covering her form from view.

“Fuck off,” he chastised behind himself, swaying his wife slowly. “Can’t you see—” but Naera put a finger to his lips, her eyes trained over his shoulder. Daemon turned tentatively, half-expecting his brother or the Hightower cunt or the cunt lord of hands but no.

He hugged his sweet wife tighter as she gave a subtle nod to Aemond, her half-brother—his sister Helaena’s hand in his, her face caught blushing a bright red, as they rushed through corridors and passageways, hastened and cautious. When their footsteps echoed away, Naera laughed.

“The Hightowers fall on our wedding after all.”

To be, or not to be…

…continued

MASTERLIST

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