#daemon x tyrell!reader

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Se Zaldrizoti’ Prumia - Chapter 7: Father and Daughter (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapter 7: Father and Daughter

A hunt, a reunion, and a conflict. A normal day in Westeros then.

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | 

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist | 

Warnings: Nothing of note, save for parental trauma and a notable lack of Daemon shenanigans.

Word Count: 5.8k words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 

A/N: OH MY GOD IM ALIVE???? Yeah, it appears I am 😭 I'm so sorry about the long wait on this chapter, the past two weeks have been wild for me ever since I came back from my vacation. 1. My dad crashed his car? 2. I had like five projects due during the past two weeks and I had to write in a report and evaluation about my project groupmate who essentially did nothing 😐 if I could beat someone's ass without getting suspended, istg... 3. I've been suffering from a lot of chest pains recently, which kinda stopped me from doing my thing for a while 4. I had insane writers block for like a week and it was horrid 😖 but luckily, I'm back now, and hopefully updating more often! And also I've learnt that my classmate is following me on tumblr, I am a little mortified, but hello regardless. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! 💕 no Daemon cameo unfortunately, but he'll be back next chapter, and messier than ever.

lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics !

109 years after Aegon's Conquest

The doors to the room burst open, and you stepped in, a little out of breath. Lord Hobert Hightower and the Hand, who were standing closest to the doorway, were engrossed deep in conversation when you walked in, and you heard something along the lines of “It’s only a matter of time before Viserys names him heir.” You try not to frown at that, nodding politely to them before heading over to the crowd gathered over at the other side of the room, cooing at the heir in question: little Aegon, who was celebrating his second nameday. 

“Ah, Y/N!” Viserys exclaimed happily, gesturing for you to come and stand between him and Alicent, whose face was radiant with happiness. Viserys signalled for the wet nurse to step forward, and before you knew it, little Aegon was in your arms, babbling in that toddler frenzy of his. The assemblage of lords and ladies stepped closer to you, much to your discomfort, as you forced a cheerful smile and bounced Aegon up and down in your arms, which made him squeal with delight. “I fear that Aegon might come to see you as his mother sooner or late, Y/N, given how much he adores you.” Viserys claimed. You flush at his words, and Alicent soon steps in, smiling, “Tis true. Aegon always perks up when he’s in your arms.” You were sure you would melt into a puddle if you were subject to any more of their compliments. “You flatter me, Your Graces.” 

In the periphery of your vision, you saw Ser Tyland Lannister attempt to get Viserys’ attention, and you handed back a now fussing Aegon to his nursemaid. Alicent shuffled over to the feast table, and she smiled brightly as you approached. Placing a hand on her swollen belly, your heart fluttered with delight when you felt a slight kick. Though the horrors of childbirth still plagued your mind, being there for Alicent’s relatively smooth birth with Aegon had made your fears lessen a little. 

“How’s the babe?” you ask. “Only active when you’re here, it seems,” Alicent laughed. “They never seem to kick for anyone else other than you. I think they will adore you as much as Aegon does.” You chuckle, stroking Alicent’s belly gently. “What if the kicking is a sign that the babe will dislike me?” Alicent patted your hand, “Definitely not. I have no doubt in my mind that you will be dear to the babe.” she said with conviction. You blush at her words, “You flatter me, Your Grace.” 

“Can someone tell me where in the Seven Hells Rhaenyra might be?” Viserys’ frustrated bellow drew you and Alicent out of your tender moment. Alicent’s face twisted with worry, and you were sure your face was a mirror image of hers. “You came in later than the rest of us. Did you see Rhaenyra anywhere?” You shake your head glumly, “She wasn’t in her chambers, or her apartments.” Alicent sighed in exasperation, “Viserys has questioned nearly every courtier in the room, and not a single one of them has a clue. Where might she be?” You chewed your lip, thinking back to the snippet of conversation you had overheard between the Hand and Lord Hobert. “She’s upset right now. The two of you were…” You refrained from finishing the sentence when you saw Alicent wince. “Do you have any inkling on where she might go to cool off?” “I don’t belie-” A look of realisation dawned in Alicent’s eyes. “You know somewhere?” You ask her urgently. Alicent nodded, “I’ll go find her. You should stay and satiate yourself before the journey.” “Are you sure?” You ask her, concerned. Alicent squeezed your hand gently. “Don’t worry about me. I think I can get Rhaenyra to see reason.” 

You glance pensively at Alicent’s retreating figure. Sighing, you approached the refreshments table, smiling gratefully as a servant handed you a plate with some slices of roast pork. You heard your name being called, and turned around to find Viserys. “Your Grace-” you moved to curtsy, but Viserys stopped you, “I told you, no need for such stuffy courtesies when you are with me.” You smiled wryly, “I thought it wouldn’t apply in a room full of courtiers.” Viserys waved away your words, “You are my family, Y/N. There are no such constraints within your own kin.” You smile sadly at the word ‘family’. It was a little sad to say, but you definitely did feel more of a kinship with the current members of House Targaryen over those of your own house. 

“Speaking of kin,” Viserys’ voice turned serious. “I am in need of a favour from you, Y/N.” You snapped to attention. “Whatever you need, Viserys.” He sighed, looking mournful and irritated at the same time. “It has been nigh three years since I have wedded Alicent. Time after time, I have tried to approach Rhaenyra, but she shuns me away every single time. The rare chances she actually sits down and listens, she sulks like a child and only provides me with short responses.” Viserys sighed again, whatever sadness he had turning into disappointment and exasperation. “This is not the way the heir to the Iron Throne should behave.” He looked at you beseechingly, “I implore you, Y/N. I believe what Rhaenyra needs is for a motherly figure to talk to her, and persuade her to abandon such foolish antics. I fear Alicent would not be able to serve such a role, since Rhaenyra’s ire is directed at the both of us. But you,” You swallowed nervously. “I’ve seen how close Rhaenyra kept you after Aemma’s death. For months, apart from Alicent, you were her closest confidant. I know naught of what has transpired between the two of you, but I believe you to be the best person for this tiresome task. Will you do methis favour?” 

Your expression was resigned, but you forced out a smile nonetheless. “But of course. I will do my best, Viserys.” He closed his eyes in relief, clapping you on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you, Y/N. Thank you.” You gave a tentative smile back, painfully aware of the numerous eyes glued to the both of you. What you failed to notice, however, were the heavy gazes of Otto and Hobert Hightower on you. 

An awkward silence weighed upon the royal wheelhouse as it made its way to the Kingswood. You glance uncomfortably between Viserys, Alicent, and Rhaenyra, watching with some pity as Viserys attempted to make conversation with his irascible and sullen daughter. A miniature dragon thrust in your face soon drew your attention however, and you looked down to frown admonishingly at little Aegon, who blinked his wide violet eyes at you innocently. The little devil, you were sure he was trying to garner your attention on purpose. Earlier, he had been weeping inconsolably, much to the nursemaid’s and Alicent’s distress. But when you had taken him into your arms, he had ceased his tears immediately and gave you a cherubic smile, which made Alicent give you a knowing smile and Rhaenyra to look at the both of you in disdain. The expression of disdain had yet to depart from Rhaenyra, as you played patiently with Aegon, flying his dragon miniature around him and smiling as the toddler spun his head around to follow the motions of the dragon with rapt fascination. 

The tension in the wheelhouse was not lightening in the slightest bit, as Viserys began talking about Rhaenyra giving him grandchildren, of all things. You had to stop yourself from groaning in exasperation. If Viserys truly wanted to reconnect with Rhaenyra again, why was he digging himself into an even bigger hole? He should know that after Aemma, Rhaenyra would be disinclined to entertain notions of childbirth. You wanted to put your head in your hands, but Aegon poked you in the cheek. 

“No one’s here for me!” Rhaenyra’s angry outburst halted all activity in the wheelhouse, including Aegon’s. You froze, looking up at Rhaenyra, but her bitter gaze was focused solely on her father. All of you endured the rest of the ride in silence. 

The rocking of the wheelhouse soon came to an end. You remained seated as Viserys and Alicent stepped out to the raucous cheers of the crowd, allowing Aegon’s nursemaid to take him from your arms. You remembered Viserys’ plea, and took in Rhaenyra’s wistful expression. “Hail, hail! Aegon the Conqueror babe, Second of His Name!” You grimace when you hear the tasteless remark. 

Rhaenyra’s fists were clenched at her sides, and her eyes were shut. With frustration, or with sadness, she didn’t know. Suddenly, she felt a gentle hand taking her fisted hand and unclenching it. She didn’t need to open her eyes to see who it was. “I don’t need your pity.” Rhaenyra tried to sound snappy, but her voice was hoarse. You didn’t answer, instead intertwining your fingers with Rhaenyra. She reluctantly opened her eyes, only to see you directing a hostile glare to the outside commotion, as more and more voices heralded Aegon as the Second of His Name. Rhaenyra couldn’t help but smile at that, letting some of the tension seep out of her muscles. 

At least there was someone in her dark and lonely corner, even if that someone’s trustworthiness had yet to be ascertained. 

You were sitting next to Alicent, as she held court with the various noble ladies who had attended the hunt. You listened, silently sipping from your goblet as they conversed about the ongoing war in the Stepstones. You watched as Larys Strong and Rhaenyra soon joined in the conversation, though a slight frown of distaste was soon visible on your face, when Lady Lannister and Lady Redwyne in particular, began picking on Rhaenyra. You had to hide a smirk when Rhaenyra made a well-directed jab at Lady Redwyne, and the smirk only widened when you saw her pig-faced dog gobble greedily at the cake on her plate. How fitting. 

“You know, Lady Y/N.” Your head snapped up as Lady Redwyne addressed you. She had a displeased look on her face: clearly she hadn’t missed your smirk at her expense. “I was…pleasantly surprised to hear Her Grace appointed you as her chief lady-in-waiting.” Your eyes narrowed, your dormant prickly nature coming to life once more. “It was a great honour, Lady Joselyn. One that I am greatly grateful to Her Grace for.” 

Lady Redwyne gave you a smile, that you knew from all your years of court politics, was filled with ill intent. “I must say, if you were out in the battlefield fighting on the Stepstones, the war would be won by now.” You felt Alicent stiffen next to you, and you instinctively reached out to put your hand on hers. “What are you insinuating, Lady Redwyne?” Alicent’s tone was sharper than usual. Lady Redwyne attempted to school her features back to deference, but her lips were curved upwards. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I was not attempting to insinuate anything. It was a compliment to Lady Y/N.” You levelled a fierce glare at her, but she seemed unaffected, looking at you straight in the eye. “It is a well known fact that she and Prince Daemon had tempers that rivalled each other. With such willfulness, she would make a formidable opponent on the battlefield, would she not?” 

You were about to deliver an equally cutting and backhanded response, but you were surprised when you heard Rhaenyra speak up once more, “Yes, Lady Redwyne. But as luck would have it, she is the Queen’s lady-in-waiting now.” Rhaenyra’s tone was acidic. “And I am certain that she will carry out her duties with skill and grace. The Queen will not be able to find someone as capable as her.” 

The ladies were stunned that Rhaenyra had spoken up for you, none more so than you and Alicent. “The princess is right. Lady Y/N has been a dutiful lady-in-waiting and companion. The Seven have truly blessed me with her.” Your eyes water with gratitude, as Lady Redwyne and the other ladies fall silent after both the princess and the queen’s swift defence of you.

So this was what kinship felt like. 

Night had fallen, and the air was ablaze with the smell of smoke. You had sat faithfully by Alicent all day, as she entertained lords and ladies alike. You had not seen Rhaenyra in quite some time though, and you worry about where she could have wandered off to. Your anxiety only increased tenfold when you saw Viserys’ goblet never straying from his hand, and he had been lifting it to his lips moreso after his conversations with the Hand, Jason Lannister, and Lyonel Strong, in particular. Alicent was clearly on edge as well, her brown eyes watchful as she witnessed her husband lose himself in his cups. When Viserys abruptly left the tent after a brief, yet intense conversation with Lyonel Strong, Alicent got up to go after him, but you gently pushed her back down to her seat, giving her a reassuring look. She should not need to see her husband in such a misbegotten state, while in her pregnancy, you thought to yourself, as you wrapped your shawl around you, shivering in the cold night air. 

You eventually found Viserys by the huge bonfire, downing yet another goblet of wine, while being guarded by two Kingsguard. They nodded at you as you passed. You went straight to Viserys, taking the cup whilst he was distracted. “I think that’s enough for you tonight, Viserys.” Your voice was soft, yet firm. He gave you an enervated smile. “The night is cold, you shouldn’t be out here.” You hand the goblet over to a Kingsguard. “Who will look after you, then? And make sure you do not drink yourself into a stupor?” Viserys laughed heartily, before he coughed. You reach for him, concerned. He stared into the flames, looking like he wanted to step into them himself. “Y/N.” “Hmm?” Viserys took a deep breath, trying to control the slurring in his voice. “What do you think is the foundation of House Targaryen’s strength?” 

You tilt your head to the side questioningly, “That is a trick question, right? Of course, the answer is House Targaryen’s dragons.” Viserys smiled ruefully, turning over to face you. You were taken aback by the blazing intensity, perhaps even madness in his eyes. “You’re wrong, Y/N. It began with a dream.” He turned back to face the fire. “When Daenys the Dreamer had the dream that prophesied the end of the Valyrian Freehold, that dream saved House Targaryen. While all the other dragonlords were destroyed, it was only us who survived.” “I know of that tale. Your grandsire told us that tale when we were younger.” 

Viserys didn’t seem to hear you, however, his bleak gaze still on the fire. “In my line, many had been dragonriders. Very few among us have been dreamers. What is the power of dragons, next to the power of prophecy?” You shivered, and not because of the cold. Yet you continue listening. “When Rhaenyra was a child, I saw it in a dream. As vivid as these flames, I saw it. A male babe, born to me, wearing the Conqueror’s crown. And I so wanted it to be true, to be a dreamer myself. I sought that vision again, night after night…but it never came again. I poured all my thought and will into it. And my obsession killed Aemma.” You looked away at that, your heart wrenched with grief.  “I thought Rhaenyra was the way out of my abyss of grief and regret. That naming her heir would set things right.” 

“Are you saying you regret naming Rhaenyra heir then?” Viserys looked grieved. “Oftentimes, yes…I have. I worried that I had named Rhaenyra out of anger towards Daemon, not out of love, or for the good of the realm.” He moved to grip your shoulders, tears in his eyes. “Y/N, I never imagined that I would remarry. That I would have a son. What if…what if I was wrong all along?” 

You stared into his despair-filled eyes. “I cannot tell you if you’re wrong, Viserys. There are only two paths ahead of you now, and as King, you must be prepared to take one, and soon.” Viserys chuckles, drooping his head. “What if I’m not sure what path I should take?” Your voice was quiet. “Then the realm will descend into chaos.” 

The both of you were silent, staring at each other in the firelight. While you couldn’t say that you approved of Viserys’ decisions in the past three years, after all this, he was your friend, and he was just a mere mortal, plagued by regrets, grief, and hesitation. Just like you, and everyone else. Even kings were not infallible to weakness, you surmised. And in that moment, there was a mutual understanding and grievance shared between the both of you: the burden of choice. 

The morrow brought about clear skies and sun, much to the delight of the lords partaking in the hunt. It did not alleviate your worries however, as Rhaenyra still had not returned to the encampment. You found yourself milling about today, much too tired to suffer the thinly veiled jabs the fellow noblewomen were directing at you about your infamous temper. 

You were dressed in a simpler riding outfit today, to mingle around with the various smallfolk and merchants that had set up stalls in the encampment, hoping eagerly to attract some lord’s attention and earn a few gold dragons. You beamed as you sampled a rather delicious roast pork skewer, giving the stall owner - a rather plump woman - two golden dragons, much to her glee. You strode back to the main tent, feeling satisfied, when you suddenly heard the sound of hooves. You turned your head as a palomino horse skidded to a halt, and a familiar man, with more grey hairs than he had the last time you saw him, dismount from the horse and take off his riding gloves. His eyes light up as soon as he catches sight of you, and without giving you a window to escape, he strode towards you. You chew your lip in dread as he approached. 

“Father.” 

“Y/N.” He beams at you, his eyes crinkled at the corners. You smile awkwardly at him, fidgeting with your fingers. His smile falters a little when he notices your hesitation. “I haven’t seen you in years, daughter. Does this momentous occasion not warrant a hug?” You inwardly sigh, and reach out to embrace your father. Your father grins at you as you pull away after an awkward pause. “You have grown, daughter. You look beautiful.” “You flatter me, Father.” “Come, walk with me. We have much to talk about.” You swallowed, but followed as he set out for the forested edge of the campground. 

The both of you strode in silence for a while, before you ventured to break the silence. “The King didn’t mention you would be joining us for the hunt, Father. Why the sudden change of heart?” He sighed. “Can an old man not choose to be in nature once in a while?” “Of course you can, father. I was just concerned: you are no longer in the pink of health, and riding all the way from Highgarden to the Kingswood is a gruelling journey.” Your father waved his hand dismissively. “Twas nothing. I might be getting on in my years, but I recently found a new source of reinvigoration.” 

“Oh?” you cocked your head curiously. You sincerely hoped the new source of reinvigoration was not a new bid for your hand. Your father smiled, “I recently remarried to Lady Clarice of House Fossoway.” Seeing your confused look, he hurried to clarify. “Of Cider Hall.” Surprise creased your features. “But…wasn’t that Mother’s maiden house? Lady Clarice was her cousin, was she not?” Your father’s smile was beginning to look strained. “Does it matter, daughter? What matters is that I am happy with her, is it not? And I am certain she will give me strong sons soon.” You regard him with a degree of caution, noting the shift in his voice. In your years of dealing with court politics, you could instinctively tell when a situation was about to go from bad to worse. “I did not know you had any plans on remarrying after Mother’s death.” 

“And whose fault is that, daughter?” Your father’s tone turned chiding. “I know you’ve been ignoring all the ravens I’ve sent to you over the past few years. Specifically, those with letters attached from me pleading for you to just find yourself a match at court or select one of the eligible lords in the lists I sent you.” You blushed, looking sheepish. Matthos sighed. “Daughter, you are no longer young. It is past time you are wed. I only want what’s best for you.” 

“But-” you blurted out, “What if I don’t think getting married is what’s best for me, Father?” Your father looked askance at that. “What else could a young lady such as yourself desire other than marriage?” You bit your lip, “Father, the truth is…I do not think I have a desire to wed now…or ever.” You were beginning to get anxious as your father’s face lost some of his paternal tenderness. “Five years. I had hoped that our time apart had given you some time to reflect on your…misconceptions.” He gripped your shoulders, an intense blaze in his eyes as your heart began to thud with dread. “The matter of marriage is not one that you can dismiss so easily anymore, Y/N. It entails the survival and future of House Tyrell. You must do your duty and wed a respectable lord, for the sake of our house.” Though you had heard those words aplenty, today, it was like something uninhibited had seized control of you, as you burst out. “Why should I care about doing my duty to House Tyrell?” you snapped. “I have made it clear that it is not my intention to ever take a husband, now and in the foreseeable future. You claim this is all done for my own happiness. So why can’t you just respect my wishes?” 

“Because you are not just some poxy peasant who can gallivant about as you please. You are my daughter!” You were shocked when your father suddenly raised his voice. Trepidation had dimmed your previous righteousness. He tightens his grip on your shoulders, his expression filled with an anger you had never glimpsed before. This…this was not the father you remember. The father you knew had never once raised his voice at you, always treating you with patience as his only child. Though he was prone to bouts of frustrated pleading when you did not acquiesce to his wishes to get married, he had never once shouted at you like that. Or even gripped your shoulders with such forcefulness you feared he might strike you. “You are just as useless as your late mother.” You were stunned, your eyes searing with hot tears. “Do not insult Mother like that. She was the most wonderful woman-” “Wonderful, you say?” your father snorted. “If she were so wonderful, then she would have provided me with a strong and healthy son to succeed me! Instead, she left me with a daughter who is ungrateful and strangely determined to remain a spinster all her life.” he spat out the words with such vitriol that you were taken aback. “If she were so wonderful,” your father continued with his rant. “Then would House Tyrell be in imminent danger of collapsing, all because the only heirs I have are your incompetent, doltish cousins who will run the legacy our ancestors and I have built to the ground?” He moved to clasp your hand tightly in his, looking desperate and angry all at once. “Daughter, your father is imploring you. You must get wed, and provide me with a grandson. You cannot let House Tyrell go to ruin.” You stare at him, feeling beleaguered. “Do my wishes mean nothing to you?” “This is because your wishes are obscenely unreasonable, Y/N.” your father snaps. “It is practically unheard of for a woman of your status to not wed.” “It is not!” you insisted, “I am the chief lady-in-waiting to the Queen now, I have duties I must perform. And there have been histories of lords whose daughters were largely spinsters. Moreover, you have remarried.” Your voice became desperate as you tried to make your father see reason. “Lady Clarice is young, she will give you many sons in due time. Suitable heirs to Highgarden. I do not understand why you are putting all this pressure on me.” You took a deep breath, preparing to make your final stand. “I want to enjoy the rest of my youth, Father. Not to sit in a castle, entrapped in a loveless marriage and pumping out potential heirs for my husband and for you. I want to live my life, free of constraints.” You looked at him, unshed tears in your eyes. “Please, father. This is the one thing I have ever asked of you, and that is to respect my wishes.” 

Matthos was silent for a long while, and you held hope, briefly, that you might have gotten through to him with your pleading. “Foolish, insolent girl!” Your hopes were dashed as your father flung off your hand, shouting at you. “How can you be so selfish? To not take responsibility in ensuring the continuation of our house’s line?” “That is your responsibility, not mine!” you shouted back. Seeing that pleas would not get to your father now, you resorted to fighting fire with fire instead. “Had you really cared about continuing our house’s bloodline, you would’ve remarried years ago!” You could see how your shouts were drawing the attention of some courtiers, given how close the both of you were to the camp for royals. You heard the faint sound of hooves behind you, but you ignored them, too engrossed in your argument with your father. “Producing heirs is a lord’s responsibility. So if you are accusing me of not doing my duty, you should first be reprimanding yourself.” 

Your father’s face grew red. “You little brat! How dare you say these things about your father!” “I spoke only the truth,” you shot back. He raised his hand, and for a moment you were afraid he was going to slap you for your outburst. Instead, he went to grip your shoulders again, “For years, I have raised you, clothed you in the finest silks, fed you, and put up with your ridiculous whims and wants! I’ve been patient, I’ve been loving and understanding when you rejected all the marriage offers you received. I’ve pleaded, and even given you the time and freedom to find a more suitable match at court. Yet you cannot even perform your duty as my daughter. No longer.” Your heart stuttered a little. “What do you mean?” Your father gave you a cold look. “I’m saying, if you do not get married by the end of the year, you are no longer my daughter.” Your eyes widen with horror. “I will effectively disown and disinherit you from House Tyrell, and if I sire any children by Lady Clarice, they shall not support you either.” 

Your voice was tremulous, “Father, you…you cannot be serious. Do not let your anger cloud your judgement.” Matthos Tyrell looked at his daughter, his face one of disgust. “You wanted to enjoy your youth without constraints. And since you seem to enjoy being lady-in-waiting to the Queen so much, I’m only granting you what you wished for, am I not?” 

You stepped back, feeling winded by your father’s words. However, you nearly jumped when you felt a familiar hand on your shoulder. “Ah, Y/N!” You were not sure whether you felt more mortified or relieved for Viserys’ timely presence. “Your Grace!” Immediately, your father’s distaste gave way to deference, as he straightened his posture and bowed before the King. You inclined your head respectfully, wondering if Viserys had overheard your conversation. “Forgive me for interrupting your conversation.” Oh, he definitely overheard. 

“There’s nothing to forgive, Your Grace. I am delighted to be in your presence.” Your father gushed on profusely, as Viserys stepped toward him. You hung your head, still abashed by your father’s threats, when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder once more. Alicent smiled at you understandingly, and you grimaced when you realised she had also overheard the unpleasant exchange. Still, you shot her a grateful look for her show of support. 

“I must offer you my sincerest felicitations for Prince Aegon’s second nameday, Your Grace.” Viserys laughed, “Your felicitations are greatly appreciated, Lord Matthos. I must extend you mine as well, for your recent remarriage. I see it is treating you well.” Your father beamed, “You are too kind, Your Grace. And indeed, my lady wife pleases me so. Now, the only thing that would make me the happiest man in the realm would be my daughter finally settling down with a respectable match.” You stiffened at that, something Alicent took notice of, and she offered you a sympathetic look. Viserys chuckled, “That you and I can both agree on, Lord Matthos. There is nothing more I desire right now than seeing Rhaenyra being wed to a deserving man who will treat her right.” 

“Oh, I am sure Her Grace will have her pick of men. She is ‘The Realm’s Delight’, after all. Any man who weds her will be a lucky one.” Your father’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone, as he glanced at you. “Moreover, Her Grace is young, comely, and lovely to behold.” Matthos sighed, shaking his head as he chuckled, “Mine own daughter is not in possess of such qualities, I’m afraid. She is getting on with her years, and though I love her deeply, as her father, I must admit she has quite a temper on her. She's not quite the attractice match, which gives me a headache,” Matthos jested with the King, causing you to wince and look away. Alicent looked disconcerted at your father’s tasteless jesting, tightening her hold on your shoulder. However, the both of you did not notice the flare of annoyance behind Viserys’ eyes, so his next words surprised the both of you. 

“Lady Y/N has been nothing but a delight to have at court, Lord Matthos. In spite of her age, I’m sure she has no shortage of suitors.” Viserys’ voice was amiable, polite, yet it carried an undertone of firmness and reprimand such that Matthos looked a little stunned, worried that he had overstepped. You looked back to the pair, your eyes wide with disbelief. “And should Y/N ever find herself unwilling to marry, the Red Keep will always welcome her. She is like family to me, after all.” Your father fell silent, and you locked eyes with Viserys, looking lost, yet appreciative all the same. Viserys gave you a reassuring smile, and you could see the sincerity behind his intent. Your eyes prickled with touched tears, but the moment was interrupted when you heard shouts across the campground, startling your party. You turned around, only to behold the sight of Rhaenyra, stained head to toe with dried blood, a commanding aura in her swagger as her sworn shield, Ser Criston, trailed behind her, along with two servants carrying a dead boar. You lock eyes with her momentarily, and she gives a small nod of acknowledgement to you, although her eyes turned cold when they looked upon her father. You heard Viserys sigh, and you saw how Viserys looked both annoyed and relieved for Rhaenyra’s safety, while your father just looked bewildered, perhaps even a little scared. Despite yourself, you smiled a little at the scene. 

Alicent and you were chatting in her chambers, laughing in hushed tones as you rocked Aegon to sleep in your arms, when the Hand entered the room, requesting to speak with Alicent. You handed a sleepy Aegon to his nursemaid, before curtsying and exiting the room, painfully aware of the Hand’s weighty gaze upon you as you did. 

Alicent knew that her father had not visited her out of a gesture of goodwill, and as she listened to his rather maddening reasoning that Alicent should attempt to make her husband see reason and name Aegon heir, she only stayed silent. There was no point in countering back anyway - the Hand always seemed to have a dozen other reasons to quell her opposition. She felt uncomfortable, for speaking of this was treason, and the babe shifted in her belly, causing her to sigh. 

Otto observed his daughter, noting with mild exasperation that she wasn’t paying heed to anything he was saying. So, he decided to change the subject. “About your lady-in-waiting…” he began. Alicent’s head snapped up, “What do you wish to discuss of Y/N?” Otto let a smile play over his lips: it was quite evident his daughter cared for the Tyrell lady, and from his further observations over the past three years, treated her akin to a maternal figure. Which might make it easier for her to accept what he proposed next. “I overheard a rather…interesting conversation she had, with Lord Matthos today.” Alicent showed no visible reaction, but she stared at her father, feeling an all-too-familiar feeling of dread settle in her gut. “I think half the campground overheard their argument. What of it?” 

Otto hummed softly, “It seems her father is worrying about her marriage. Which is a reasonable worry - she is on the cusp of her twenty fifth nameday, is she not?” Alicent nodded slowly, eyeing her father with caution. She knew him all too well, how he was tapping his fingers on the armrests of his chair - he was scheming. She recalled how upset you were when you spoke with your father, citing your dreams to enjoy your youth and be freed of the constraints of marriage. In later years, she had come to both see you as a cherished companion and a parental figure of sorts, and she cared for you, deeply so. You were her only source of comfort in the Red Keep, one who did not expect or demand anything of her, someone she felt she could truly be open with. She glanced fearfully at her father. 

She had to put an end to this. She must save you from suffering the same fate she did. 

“Father…you are not planning on taking a new wife, are you?” Alicent fidgeted with her fingers nervously, her eyes fixed on Otto. He was quiet for a long while, and in response to her question, he only stood up and went over to his daughter, placing a hand on her swollen belly. His cryptic answer disturbed Alicent. “You worry too much over matters that do not need worrying about, daughter. Your concern now, should be Aegon. Raise him well, and raise him strong. He shall be an important man one day.”

Come the morrow, the Godswood was completely devoid of any life. Which proved to be a boon to you, who was seeking some reprieve from the busy atmosphere of the Red Keep and the somewhat maddening task of having to feed Aegon -  due to his tendency of smooshing the food in the face of whomever had the misfortune of feeding him, most commonly you. 

You sat on the stone bench, staring despondently at the Godswood tree. While you were never particularly religious, either to the Seven or to the Old Gods, the happenings of the hunt have driven you to pray with increasing fervency these days. What you prayed for, you did not know. Was it for the hope that your father’s heart might soften and he might be persuaded to leave you be for the rest of your life? You scoffed to yourself, knowing how improbable it was. Fiddling with the pendant - Aemma’s pendant, you sighed, tilting your head downwards to the ground. 

You were startled when you heard movement next to you, of another soul taking a seat next to you on the bench, her posture ramrod straight, and her expression blank. Rhaenyra’s linen sleeves fluttered slightly in the breeze. 

“I suppose neither of us are in the best of spirits,” Rhaenyra’s voice was stilted, like she was reluctant to break the silence first. You lifted your head upright, looking at her with a tentative smile, “No, I suppose we aren’t.” An awkward silence highlighted the chasm between the two of you. You wondered, had this truly been the girl of fourteen who confided in you about everything? Now, it seems there is a stark contrast to the Rhaenyra you once knew to the Rhaenyra before you. Though of course, you were to be blamed for that. 

“My father has just ordered me to embark on a tour of the realm. A marriage tour.” Rhaenyra’s bitter tone roused you from your thoughts. “I do not know why I’m telling you this. Perhaps it’s because you are the only person in the Keep who might have the slightest sympathy for what I’m going through.” Rhaenyra’s voice lowered to a slightly malicious pitch, but there was no disguising the hurt behind her voice. “Or maybe it would be false sympathy. But it is better than none.” 

You winced, wanting to reach out and take Rhaenyra’s hand, the way you knew she loved. Physical touch was Rhaenyra’s favourite way of receiving and expressing affection. A wane smile pulled at your lips as you heard her words, “You might be cynical, but I have more sympathies to your plight than you might think, Princess.” Rhaenyra was surprised by the resignation in your tone. She recalled the scene she had seen when she returned to the royal encampment at the hunt that day. “...does it have something to do with your father?” 

You let out a sad laugh, “Indeed. I have been forced into a situation much more precarious than yours, I would say. My father has given me an ultimatum: I must wed by the end of this year, or I shall be effectively disinherited and disowned as a member of House Tyrell.” Rhaenyra’s eyes widened, her stance immediately shifting to one of sympathy and guilt. “Does your father jest?” “I’m afraid not,” you remark with a despaired, cynical laugh, “Father’s patience has worn thin when it comes to me, I’m afraid. I should’ve known it foolish to think that I could escape from the ramifications of duty to my House.” 

You were a little mortified to find your eyes prickling with tears. In truth, you were frightened to the bone. Two paths were set in stone before you now, and neither were pleasant. Rhaenyra hesitated for a while, before reaching out to take your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. You were startled by her sudden gesture, as the flood of familiarity rushed through your veins. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “This is a horrible situation to find yourself in.” She looked hesitant, “I know you’ve always been of your own mind, Y/N. I just want you to know…that you are not alone. Should the worst come…I’m sure that my father will not turn you away in your hour of need.” Her lips turned upwards wistfully, “I will not too. The both of us are stuck in similar predicaments, are we not? Daughters forced to marry off at our father’s behest. We must stick together.” 

“...thank you,” you said quietly, touched, “I do not deserve your kindness, after all I have hidden from you.” Rhaenyra’s smile turns somewhat bitter, “What is done cannot be undone. What matters now is the future.” 

The cool metal of Aemma’s pendant dug into the flesh of your palm, as an idea came to you. “I have something for you,” Rhaenyra’s eyebrows shot up and her eyes grew misty as you presented the ruby falcon pendant to her. “I think this belongs to you. I’ve been holding onto it for the past few years, but I think it’s time you have it back.” Rhaenyra takes the pendant, clasping it to her chest as she looked mournfully down at it. “I thought it was naught but ashes now.” You bit your lip, seeing how relieved yet pained Rhaenyra looked made you regret not giving it to her sooner. You had clung onto it for selfish reasons over the past few years, unwilling to let go of Aemma. But now, you felt it was time to let go of the past, and brave on into the future. “I hope that having this piece of Aemma would make you feel more comforted on your marriage tour.” 

Rhaenyra’s eyes were misty, as she clasped the pendant like it was worth all the spice and gold from the shores of Essos. “Y/N.” Rhaenyra said quietly. “Hmm?” “Do you think…that Mother would’ve been proud of the person I am today?” Rhaenyra swallowed, looking downcast. “...I fear that, ever since I was named heir, since…Aegon was born, Father’s disappointment in me has been growing by the day.” “And why would you think that?” you asked, concerned. Rhaenyra took a shaky inhale, “I know that Father did not name me heir out of choice. It was a critical time, after Daemon had left, and the Realm would be plunged into unease upon the disinheritance of my uncle from the line of succession.” She bit her lip. “Father even told me as much. He said he had wavered at the notion of making me heir.” Your eyes flickered with shock and a little bit of righteous anger. “He said that?” Rhaenyra nodded miserably, and you patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. “He told me he would never waver again, but it is a little hard to put my faith in that, with….with Aegon’s shadow looming over me.” Rhaenyra sighed, tilting her head upwards. ”I just…I wish I could do something to be better. To prove to Father that I’m not just the right choice to the throne because he named me heir when he had no choice. I want to show him that I possess the qualities to rule the throne. The marriage tour would be a start, but I just detest the idea of having to bind myself to some lord to prove my worthiness to the throne.” 

“I understand how you feel,” you commiserated, and she rested her head on your shoulder. “The expectations of a woman’s duty often cast a shadow over our lives.” Rhaenyra closed her eyes, feeling at ease with you, even if it were just for a brief moment. “Mother was fond of saying that marriage is a woman’s duty, and childbed is our battlefield. Especially as royal women,” Rhaenyra’s voice was thick with emotion. “I understand I must do this, for the good of the realm, but…why is it so terrifying? To have my worth determined on my husband and the number of children I can bear in service to him and the realm.” The setting sun glistened off a tear slowly making its way down Rhaenyra’s cheek. “Y/N, do you think my mother would be proud, watching me doubt her teachings?” 

You reached out to wipe her tear away, your other hand’s thumb gently stroking her hand that you still held. “You are her daughter, Rhaenyra. I have no doubt that you could be the most dastardly miscreant, and she would be proud of you nonetheless.” That got a bleak smile from Rhaenyra, “Truly?” You nodded your confirmation, smiling fondly down at her. “Truly. Though luckily, your moral character is rather upright.” Rhaenyra laughed, and you smiled, happy to have made her laugh. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. You have no idea how much that means to me.” Rhaenyra whispered to you.  

The two women stayed like this in the Godswood for a while, each swarmed by their own thoughts. So different, yet so similar in their impending doom, and duty.

Taglist: @drwho-ess @graniairish @urmomsgirlfriend1 @thelittleswanao3 @animelover18 @llovinjoonie @gracielikegrapes @salembridger @itszzmoon @kmmg98 @travelingmypassion @zae5 @norestfortheshelbywicked @soleilgrec @anehkael @midnightprincess18 @lilith--666​

Daemon General Taglist: @aiyaiy @kmmg98 @norestfortheshelbywicked @hb8301 

those who are bolded are those who couldn’t be tagged! let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist in the comments or through this form! 

A/N: All I gotta say is: ruh roh, trouble is brewing. If you have made it this far, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. I aim to release chapter 8 by next Wednesday, hopefully something unprecedented doesn't happen before then though.

#aureliawrites #se zaldrizoti prumia #sezaldrizotiprumia masterlist #house of the dragon #daemon fanfiction #daemon prince #prince daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen #prince daemon x reader #daemon fanfic #daemon x you #daemon x y/n #daemon x oc #daemon x tyrell!reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon targaryen x tyrell!reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x female reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fandom #hotd daemon #hotd x oc #hotd x reader #hotd x you

[two-white-butterflies]

you taste like wine | daemon targaryen x reader

Description: Daemon Targaryen was as unpredictable as the wind — his love built cities and his wrath destroyed them. Y/N just learnt to accept the fact that there was both good and bad in him. After all, he’d never harm her — he’d never harm his love, his fantasy and his truth.

Everyone always said that the women in House Tyrell were the thorns — and the men were the roses. Daemon agreed with them — for Y/N Tyrell was all thorn and no rose, she was sharp, manipulative and twice as ambitious. In all truths, Daemon was afraid of Y/N, that’s why he agreed to marry her. 

He’s heard whispers of her, how people said that she was a great beauty — a charming little dove. But Daemon knows exactly what kind of person she was. A snake like all of those in Kingslanding that seek to manipulate his brother. 

He sees the way her eyes glimmer — how her face glows when she gets what she wants. She was cunning, he had to give that to her. But even she was no match to the Rogue Prince. 

“Why is it that you’re always frowning?” she enters his chambers to see him sitting motionlessly in one of the leather chairs. Daemon smirks and stares at her, she was truly beautiful and unmarred by the years. 

He stands up, reaching the same height as her. “Frowning? I beg to disagree” he replies while she rolls her eyes. Y/N couldn’t stand him, but only because he was the only one immune to her charms. “Don’t act innocent now, you’re always frowning when I’m around” she chuckles while sitting down on the chair he was previously sitting on. 

He turns to look at her, following her with his sharp gaze. “Why would I frown in front of such a beautiful woman?” he jokes while she scoffs. “If I’m such a beauty, why is it that we haven’t had any children yet? Surely, a man like you wouldn’t be able to keep his hands away from me” she states the obvious while he smirks again. 

“Maybe that’s the reason I’m frowning all the time, I can’t seem to get my hands on you” he flirts and she rolls her eyes. He was talking shite again. She hardly doubts that he lusts after her — when all he does every day is complain about her existence. 

But it was alright, she supposes. After all their children would be nobodies — just Targaryens who had the title “Prince” or “Princess” none of them would ever sit on the throne. It was all useless really — and being his wife was just sad. She should’ve just married one of The Starks or The Harrenhals. 

He senses her silence and he scoffs, “What? Don’t believe me?” he interrogates while taking a step towards her. She chuckles loudly — as if she was mocking him. “Please, Daemon — it’s too early for jests” she mocks while he rolls his eyes. He places both his hands on her shoulders, staring ferociously at her (E/C) doe eyes. 

“Fucking you would be easy — loving you however?” he spat and she was able to smell his breath — it stunk of ale and wine, he was most definitely drunk. She shoves his hands away from her and he chuckles bitterly, “This behavior is for your whores in Silk Street, not your wife” she scolds while he presses his lips on her. 

She melts into his kiss as he slowly pulls away. “And if you were asking me, I’d say that you fancied me too, wife” he smirks. 

----

Daemon was always called for war, his brother King Viserys left him for himself to fight the Crab War. The tensions at court have only soared higher, with the birth of Aegon (Alicent’s son) and the birth of Aemon (Daemon and Y/N’s son.) 

Everyone seeked to replace Rhaenyra, they favored her younger brother most. Y/N knew that Rhaenyra was more than capable to be queen, but she wasn’t born a man — and to others, it may mean that she would never be enough. 

She finishes braiding the Princess’ hair as Aemon coos from the princess’ grasp. “He always know its you” Rhaenyra states while Y/N chuckles. Aemon always loved being at his mother’s side, but she knew that he’d love his father much more. 

“I bet he misses his father” she whispers while taking him from his cousin’s hands. “My father should end that war for the better, I fear that the Hightowers have something to do with it” Rhaenyra hushes while Y/N glares at her. 

The Hightowers had spies everywhere, “Lower your voice, my princess” she warns while Rhaenyra sighs. She adored Lady Y/N, though sometimes she wishes that her father married her instead. Lady Y/N was made for court — even when she sounds mean, it always comes across as polite. 

Rhaenyra knew one thing for sure; she liked Y/N more than Alicent. “I don’t want to be here at court anymore, my lady. You should come with me to Dragonstone — it is much safer there” she offers while Y/N declines her. 

“Rhaenyra, I’ve told you about this. Leaving your position at court will only give our enemies more leverage” she explains while Rhaenyra frowns. “Our?” she asks and Y/N nods. “We are the Blacks are we not — but most of all, we are women. Our strength is not given, it is forged” she places a hand on the princess’ shoulders. 

----

“You mean to tell me that you won a war purely out of hate?” she exasperates as he nods his head and removes his armor. His ego felt bruised after his brother’s letter, thus he decided to end the war once and for all. Her frown deepens, “And where was all of this hate, two years ago?” she questions and he freezes. 

He was scared of her anger — but he was afraid of her love. Her love that could kill him after she realizes he could’ve been home sooner. “I wish to rephrase my previous statement” he pauses and she chuckles. “Ah, you wish to get out of trouble!” she hits him lightly. 

“You rascal — do you have any idea how much I worried about you” she hits him again and this time a chuckle escapes from his lips. Her frown goes deeper, “What are you laughing at?” she hits him for the third time as he wraps his arms around her, trapping her in his warm embrace. 

“My thorn — I did not win this war out of hate” he explains and she rolls your eyes. “Uhuh, you better explain” she crosses her arms while he presses a kiss on the top of her head. “I won the war out of love — and also because I haven’t made love in two years” he finishes his statement with a joke as she tries her best to not laugh — she was still mad at him. 

“And maybe I can make it up to you? If you know what I mean” he winks at her while she rolls her eyes and walks away. “Idiot” she mutters. 

pt. 2

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #house tyrell

[gulnarsultan]

Daemon was silent as Lady Tyrell dressed the wound on his head. He was stunned by the care and kindness he hadn't experienced in a long time. As the Daemon's eyes lifted upward, he paid more attention to the Lady's beauty. For the first time, the man who had always put the Targaryen women above other women had set aside his principles. The moment the bandage was finished, Daemon was resting his head on the Lady's legs. The lady stroked his hair and began to speak.

"Are you hurting? Need something?"

"Just stay with me."

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryan #yandere daemon targaryen x reader #yandere daemon targaryen #yandere daeron targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #yandere hotd #hotd x reader #hotd fanart #yandere house of the dragon #yandere character #tyrell reader #yandere got #yandere game of thrones

[earenwen-leafwhisper]

Hi, sorry for my English, it's not my language and I'm using Google translator, I hope it's enough for you to understand me. I really like your writing and I had an idea that I think if you wrote it would make it good, where Viserys did not marry Alicent but Laena, but they never had children so Daemon really took over as heir to viserys on the condition that he would marry Rhaenyra, they marry and Jace and luke are Daemon's children. Rhaenyra is pregnant with Joffrey and to celebrate Viserys plans a great banquet that will last days and all the lords are invited. At the party Daemon meets Lord Tyrell's daughter and falls deeply in love with her and takes her as his second wife, Rhaenyra is not satisfied, but does nothing about it. As married times go by, Daemon loves the reader much more and favours her children, and Rhaenyra is jealous

He's sweet flower

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Fem Chubby Tyrell! reader

Author’s note: hello, don’t worry, Google translation does a good job, oh thank you, it touches me a lot that you appreciate. Usually I don’t write by specifying the reader in a specific noble house but by writing the reader in Tyrell, I don’t specify the origin of her mother so that she can come from where you want. Hope you like it. Feel free to leave your opinion on how your request was written, anonymously or not, I just really enjoyed writing for your request.

Author’s Note 2: I based myself on the age gap between Jace, Luke and Joffrey of the books (thanks Wiki) and by writing «young woman» I aim big, from early twenties to early thirties.

 trigger warning: English is also not my mother tongue, so i'm sorry if there is mistakes.

The sun was setting over the gardens of Highgarden, summer was just beginning, the ambient heat was comforting, the flowers covered most of the soils, trees and shrubs of the gardens. The spring months had been very grey and rainy, several trees had large fruits full of water, several servants were responsible for the gathering, they went to work all summer long so that the kitchens could serve them fresh or keep them by turning them into jam or by naturally drying them. They were not the only ones working in the castle. Young squires trained in the animate me with various weapons, whether it be the sword, the fighting axe, the mass or the bow, while others trained to ride a horse, some having never climbed to the screens. But they all worked far more than usual.

The day had been pleasant a part of the Tyrell family was staying in one of the largest gardens, your uncle Lord Matthos Tyrell successor of the house, accompanied by your father were chatting under a large umbrella, composed of wood, linen fabrics and some pieces of warm colors. Lord Tyrell’s wife and your mother sat beside them, watching the younger members of the family played and heckled while you sat under one of the trees, reading, while your young cousin Harlan learned his lessons.

Matthos was talking with your father about the royal invitation, it must have been to announce some important things for sending a messenger. For a month in the windbreaks, a great storm broke over the region of Reach, the violent wind shook the branches of the trees, the younger ones folded under the breath, the beasts had to have hurried into their stables and henhouse. Luckily, the rivers had not yet come out of their beds, fortunately for the villages nearby.

In this storm, a herald accompanied by two knights rode to Highgarden, the sound of the clogs in the mud was barely audible, the breaking rain masked largely the surrounding sounds. The glimmers emanating from the castle windows were barely visible in the rain, which like a beacon guiding the messenger and his escort. At the time of passing the pat of the front door the three people were soaked to the bones, the servants had directly welcomed them and taken them to one of the large rooms of the castle, Lord Matthos Tyrell had joined them to discuss.

This is how your uncle spoke to your father about a scroll in his hands, protecting it from the sun.

“Viserys seems to get crazier and crazier with time.” Matthos sighed.

“Who would not, in his situation many would not have held.”

“Marry your own daughter to your brother? Celebrate future births?”

“The Targaryen are different, he had to consolidate his grip on the throne.”

“According to the Hightowers, Viserys accepted the marriage of Rhaenyra and Daemon, although the council is against it.” Matthos giggled for a moment. “He could have refused.”

Your father sighed, he understood that his brother reacted like this, the iron throne was very coveted, Viserys of his first union with Queen Aemma had not had a son, her death had mourned more than the Targaryen, She was appreciated and seemed to radiate during her presences. The fact that the king remarried was not a surprise, although the age of the very young bride was much talked about. At first, the lack of birth reassured the nobles and the people that Lady Laena’s age was inappropriate for marriage. In the coming years, this lack of birth slowly began to worry, perhaps the young queen could not give birth. Murmurs and rumours then began their way into the kingdom. What would happen when Viserys died? Who would take the throne? The houses that had passed their allegiances could equally break it, it risked imploding the kingdom. Rhaenyra, as the only child of the king, could assert his birthright on the throne, but none of the great Lords and the people were ready for a queen to rule the kingdom. Daemon as a brother of the king, was the direct heir, but having a bad reputation among the people and especially the nobles, was a complex choice. The union of Daemon and Rhaenyra a few years ago was intended to strengthen their «legitimacy» to the throne. Although many noble houses did not like it, the people were wary, for this marriage did not guarantee a long peace full of prosperity.

"Brother, why don’t you go to these festivities?"

“I have to deal with the requests from the villages, don’t forget, I don’t have time to go and celebrate.”

“I would take the applications directly, you could take the opportunity to find an fiance to my tender niece.”

 

Your father sighed, it was true that you had not yet engaged, it is not that you had no young and not so young men who wanted to court you, it is that for your father, you were still his little daughter, even though you are a young woman. He promised to think about it not wanting to tarnish this sunny day with a heated discussion, even though he knew that Matthos would repeat the question to him several times, until the moment your father snapped.

 

That’s how a week later, a carriage carrying the flower of the Tyrell house, headed for King’s Landing.

It was the first time you traveled to King’s Landing, you were only a child at the death of Queen Aemma, you had kept the blurred memory of your Uncle Matthos and your aunt being gone for several weeks, and that before their return Highgarden had become silent, for a few days. Your nanny had vaguely explained to you that it was customary to mourn for important people whether we knew him or not. It intrigued you, but you quickly forgot about the sadness, wanting to play with the other children present.

At the time of the king’s remarriage, you still remained at the castle, just as you remained for the various festivities that took place at the Red Keep, Highgarden satisfied you, you did not understand why the other ladies and young lady wanted so much to go there. Your nanny had repeatedly explained to you the misadventures that could occur in the capital, how the streets were covered with vermin and dirt. That this was no place for a girl.

Yet when you looked at the landscape through the screened opening, you could see large walls with black and red coats of arms. With difficulty you tried to see how the streets of the city really were, painfully observing colors and movement, you could not fully observe the life teeming around you.

When the carriage stopped, you waited to get out, the heel sounds of the boots echoed in the outer courtyard of the Red Keep.

Servants were the first to greet you, taking your luggage to the rooms that you would occupy during the festivities. A knight with a white beard and well cut came to greet you, explaining that the king being very absorbed by the preparations of the festivities apologized for not coming to welcome you in person.

Your father avoided giving a harsh answer to the knight, and thanked him. The castle never had him again. Perhaps it was due to not being at home or having to be always on guard whether it was for behaviour or words understood in the wrong way.

While your father joined the other lords already present, your mother offered to give your respect to the Queen, which simply meant, to say hello to her and luckily have a little conversation.

 

When you saw Queen Laenna, you were surprised by her look, it is true that you found her very beautiful, but her look was filled with a kind of melancholy, like a bird enclosing in a cage, a golden cage. With your mother you greeted him, exchange a few sentences about your visit, asking how she lived the future festivities. You were lost in her purple look almost erase.

"Is it true that you rode the greatest dragon in the world?"

This question had escaped you, you had heard lords and lady speak of it since Laenna had begun to ride the dragon. His words come out of your mouth, without thinking about all the protocols that reigned in the Red Keep.

To your question a kind of spark lit up the queen’s gaze.

« It’s true, even though I haven’t been able to do it for a few years.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, it must be extraordinary.”

“Much more.”

When you left your interview with Laenna, your mother scolded you for a few moments, it was not a good idea to speak so openly to the queen without her consent. You have a few seconds to apologize before continuing your way through the corridors of the Red Keep.

 

To say that the future festivities related to Princess Rhaenyra’s pregnancy were great was an understatement. During the day everything seemed calm, several lords and lady were chatting in the corridors and gardens of the castle, but on the first night of the banquet, calm gave way to fun, alcohol and food.

 

In the corridors of the castle several jugglers entertained the guests who waited before their entrances in the huge banquet hall. In the gardens, fire-eaters were getting ready, as was the band of musicians who accompanied them. 

At the festivities they had attended, such a show were not common. And it was only the first day. That night, the houses present were to present their respect and congratulations to future parents, while wearing the colors of his own home.

The entrance was generally spanned starting with the noblest houses, the vassal houses followed them, with a few exceptions.

“Don’t forget what I told you Y/n.”

“I know, mother, don’t speak without permission, don’t look them in the eye because it could be understood as disrespectful.”

“And above all, try to have fun, my dear child.” Your mother took your hand and gently squeezed it.

Your parents had explained to you that it would be interesting for you to get closer to a single young man from one of the houses present, whether they are the noblest houses or not.

If the little shows in the corridors had caught your attention, the size of the banquet hall did just as much. Many guests were already installed, music was audible through conversations. A large chandelier and many fabrics raised the ceiling and spaced far enough so that it did not catch fire.

The Tyrell House entered before the Hightower House, while you were waiting you exchanged a few words with the king’s daughter, Alicent, she seemed nice to you, she was talking about her recent marriage, with a young man from a vassal house in the Vale, This helped to strengthen the ties shaken when Prince Daemon’s first wife died. Although the agreement seemed cordial to you, Alicent was holding her hands, looking at them you could see that she passed her thumbnail on the skin surrounding her other nails.

The royal table, which was located on a platform, allowed them to observe their guests although it was not very high, two markets hardly separated them from the remains of the guests. Your father stood in front of you and your mother. After bowing in front of the people present, your father exchanged a few words with King Viserys. During this time, you watched who was sitting at the table, with your back straight and your head held high, watching from left to right. There was a man wearing the emblem of the king’s hand on his chest, his beard gray, and his look was hard and you seemed calculating, if this man was indeed the father of the sweet Alicent, she seemed to have held more of her dead mother than of her father. The Velaryons were standing on her left side, they seemed to you to be the queen’s parents, for she separated them from the king and spoke to them much more openly and seemed to be out of her good mood. The king in the center of the table seemed to you to be older than the age he had. He was starting to lose hair, his complexion was more greyish, almost a sick complexion. To the left of the king was a young woman barely older than you, her plump belly and silver hair made you understand that it was the king’s daughter, Princess Rhaenyra. You did not dwell on the details, for your gaze was like drawing by the person standing next to you.

A Targaryen, dressed in black was standing in his chair, one hand resting on the table. He didn’t seem so old to you, you looked up from his hand up to his chest, slowly going up to his neck, his jaw, his thin lips to finish on his eyes, by the distance you couldn’t see them clearly, but you imagined eyes of a bright purple. His hair was short and tied to the back of his head. Prince Daemon seemed even more attractive to you than the lady could say in the halls.

His gaze was fixed on something, it took you a few seconds to notice that he was staring at you, in an instant you felt like undressing under his gaze, perhaps it was because of your dress, Tyrell colors with a more plunging neckline than the rest of the women’s outfits present in these places, or was it due to her look that seemed to detail you, from head to toe, while gently licking her upper lip. You felt a gentle warmth mounted in your body as your hands became slightly moist, your mother pulled you out of this exchange by accompanying you to the table where you were installed.

On the first days of the banquets, all were feasting, drinking and eating much more than they should. Lord Baratheon had two nights during which he ended up being escorted by guards, so drunk that he fell trying to walk. Rhaenyra had only appeared at the opening banquet, locking himself in his room for the rest of the festivities.

The feeling of being observed had lasted all along the great meals. To try to forget it, you danced with several young lady, of one Alicent. Some less imposing house lords had asked for a dance that you had accepted. Although more chubby than the average woman present, you did not want to close on yourself, remaining smiling, you had confidence in your natural charm, but a part of you said that the name Tyrell was not at all at interactions, The young lords who had to find a wife did little to spank the fine mouths if their future wives were of noble lineage, you paid little attention, wanting to see the good side of things, you had fun and it was enough for you.

On the fourth night of festivities, you wanted to stay in the gardens, although livening, the places were quieter than the banquet hall. The feeling of being observed was for several hours faded, you were relaxing sitting on one of the benches of the largest garden, some knights were guarding the place, and some couples were watching the shows of the fire-eaters.

You were suddenly taken by a chill, it was not because of the light breeze that was blowing, it was even pleasant to you compared to the heat and dampness of the banquets, no other thing was going on you were sure.

"Lady Y/n. "

A man’s voice made you turn away from your contemplation of the place. You directed your head in the direction of sound, your heart missed a beat.

Prince Daemon was a few meters away from you. He was dressed in black boots and pants, and his jacket had scaly details and thin dark red trim. Her hair was always tied to the back of her head.

“Pr… Prince Daemon.” You were caught off guard.

"Don’t you like these festivities?" A smirk was attached to his lips.

“They’re nice, but I find the gardens more welcoming, so it’s good to be a little quiet.”

“My brother enjoys this kind of activity.”

"And you not my prince?" You could not hold this question.

“I’m less likely to like them, less strutting around.”

A relative silence settled in, not seeing him moved, you wondered why the prince was in the gardens, Daemon watched you, you did not look like the other lady, something in you had held his gaze, Maybe it’s your confidence, maybe it’s your less-dressed clothes. To put an end to this silence and its administration, which was beginning to make you nervous, you asked him the first question that came to your mind.

“Is it true that you fought the crabs for three years? “

You opened your eyes, you forgot the manners, and addressed yourself to the prince. You lowered your head gently, murmuring an excuse. Daemon rie slightly.

"It is true, why such a question, Lady Tyrell?" He leaned his head gently to the side.

“We heard about the war at the Highgarden, but never in detail, one day you were at war and suddenly you had won.”

“I can tell you what happened.”

“With pleasure, my prince, but… you don’t have to.”

Daemon did not answer you, he just approached to sit beside you. For several hours you listened, how the crabs had become dangerous for Westeros, how the years of war had unfolded to end with the king’s decision to come and help them after three years of war. You did not refrain from commenting on the king’s behavior, apologizing afterwards to Daemon, you did not have to speak thus of the crown. He smirk more at your words, but does not correct you, simply continuing to tell you his story.

The first glimmers of daylight appeared on the horizon, Daemon was staying by your side all night, chatting or just watching the shows. His presence although at first a little stressful, was almost comforting, his body letting pass a pleasant heat. The hours seemed like minutes. It is almost against your heart that the day rose, you had to go back to the castle, not to arouse the anxiety that might have your relatives not to see you in the morning.

On the following days and nights, Daemon seemed more present, taking part in a discussion with your father on subjects that escaped you. The prince offered you walks in the castle, offering you books for your future reading, Daemon was even interested in your life in Highgarden, leaving you little time to be really alone. In the rare moments when he was not with you, you had offered to keep company with the queen before Alicent, with whom you had made a gentle friendship, persuaded you to visit Princess Rhaenyra. Part of you felt guilty for spending all that time with her husband, when he should have stayed close to her. But another felt flattered by the prince’s attention.

If the gaze of the queen seemed to be off, the gaze of the princess was filled with boredom, two young children with silver hair were playing in her room, a servant was watching them. Rhaenyra was sitting by the window, one hand laying on the sell. You stood by the door while Alicent saluted her, you could observe from their interactions that they had been friends for a long time. Alicent took a few minutes before he introduced you.

“Rhaenyra, this is Lady Y/n Tyrell, we have sympathized the last days. »

As much as the moments passing by Daemon had seemed to you to be fast, the one spending with Rhaenyra seemed endless. You learned the children’s names, and looked at them from afar, you smiled softly at their children’s squabbles. You kept a cordial conversation with the princess, though your heart beat faster than usual. A presentiment became more and more present in you, the one that the princess knew of moments spent with Daemon.

The weekend was quite classic for such festivities.

The last banquet was the most grandiose, fruits and vegetables from Essos were present, dishes flavored with varied spices whether meat or fish, wine reigned on the tables, the buckets were always filled, The musicians were from islands near Essos, which played music with different rhythms and tones than the one usually played in Westeros. Although according to the region the music was different each corner of Westeros had different styles.

At the beginning of the evening, you stood between your mother and Lady Alicent, exchanging opinions on the meal, the guests and the music. From the corner of your eye you could glimpse the king’s table, the guests who sat there had changed from one evening to the next. Moving from close family to the closest advisors and allies of the Targaryen. Only Viserys and Laenna were present every evening. Rhaenyra only had to attend the opening, Viserys explaining that the young mother had to rest.

As the hours went by and the people present began to dance, the centre of the room gradually began to fill with people. Contemplating the group of people dancing, their movement gradually becoming synchronized, you did not pay attention to the people behind you.

"Lady Tyrell, will you accept this dance?"

A young Lord of a vassal house of the Lannisters had just spoken, his voice in grave tones had surprised you, turning on a young man with dark brown hair, and amber eyes, you accepted, he was not unpleasant to look at and courteous. Your parents were staring at you two, wondering if they had planned this meeting.

The dance did not last all the music. Daemon was watching you from the beginning of the meal and the young Lord he called «asshole» in his thoughts, irritated him, he had passed several times behind you before talking to you and the way he had to watch you make Daemon want to tear his eyes out. It is annoyed that Daemon rose towards the dance floor.

When you changed partners, you found yourself face to face with the prince, he, who had not danced all week, began to dance with you.

A dance was followed by a second, then a third. Viserys was not positive to see his brother dancing with a young woman other than his daughter. He sighed, exasperated by the actions of Daemon, Otto had transmitted to him the rumors of the prince’s adventures with the young lady of the house Tyrell. He knew Daemon well enough to know that his brother had something in mind and that he would do anything to get it.

You didn’t finish the night at the banquet, your feet were getting sore and fatigue was working its way through your body. You told your parents and Alicent that you were going to your room. Your parents followed you, fatigue also took them.

On the morning of your departure, you accompanied your parents to greet one last time King Viserys and Queen Laenna, and passed your greetings to the young princess. Daemon was not present, it upset you a little but did not reveal.

This annoyance went away when you arrived home. You were welcomed by several servants as well as members of your family. In your room stood a small pile of letter and parchment saddled. Surprised you asked the maid who was standing by your side, when they had arrived.

“They started when you were in King’s Landing, my lady. Recently they’re crows coming.”

When you took the first parchment, you noticed the Targaryen seal, opened it and noticed a beautiful healing handwriting. It contained a poem about flowers and dragons. Gradually opening the letters you noticed that it was the same writing and that everything was signed in the same way. The same first and last name. Daemon Targaryen. Touched you began to write a letter to the prince, you reread his letters one after the other. Your heart was palpitating, a silly smile sticking to your face. In one of the last letters received the prince promised to go through Highgarden. You began to look forward to this day.

A first visit was made two weeks after the end of the festivities, Daemon had arrived at the back of Caraxes. Your uncle Matthos was pleased to have a member of the royal family come to visit, even though it was Prince Daemon. You stayed in the gardens most of your time, watching the dragon lying in the gardens. Flowers surrounded the animal and contrasted with its red color.

"One day I will take you on his back." Daemon’s promise was written in one of his letters.

This visit was followed by several others, all longer and longer. Most often you and Daemon stayed in the gardens or in the library of the castle, he offered you at his arrival several jewels, rings, earrings and necklaces. Very quickly the end of the year pointed his nose, the leaves of the trees fell and the temperature dropped, this was nothing to compare to the temperatures of the north, but having lived all your life in the south of Westeros, the climate was cold. Daemon had arrived several days before, he intended to ask your father for your hand. Valeryen tradition didn’t stop him from having a second wife, he just had to be persuasive enough.

The news of Rhaenyra’s delivery arrived by raven, Daemon received the message, but did not return to the capital, It was only two days later when a raven arrived to announce the good news of the birth of Prince Joffrey and of his ans Rhaenyra good health that Daemon go. Not without an answer.

Your father agreed to give your hand to the prince. He was not afraid of the Targaryen, but he had heard of the obsessions that the prince might have and that he did everything to get what he wanted. Your father was just hoping the princess wouldn’t take it too hard.

Rhaenyra sat on one of the armchairs of his room fulminaient of the absence of Daemon, it was not the first time that he did not attend a birth, three years in the screen, for the birth of Luke, he stayed in the corridor, for Luke, he had remained with Caraxes. But for Joffrey, he was not even present in the city, no raven had arrived with an answer. When Daemon walked through the door, he walked towards the baby, posing in the arms of one of the nannies, he looked at him, detailing his face, noticing a silver-haired birth. He took him in his arms, without even greeting his wife.

« You were with that slut.” Rhaenyra’s tone of voice was dry.

“Don’t call her that in my presence.” Daemon looked up at Rhaenyra. “She will be my second wife.”

Rhaenyra understood, her husband, her uncle, was indeed in love with another young woman, she who thought that he would leave her before the end of the banquet, had been mistaken. She no longer spoke to him about the day, she was locked up in her room with the children. Viserys was more than despair of Daemon’s actions, he had just been a father for the third time and yet his spirit was elsewhere. Daemon explained to him that there would be no favouritism, that he would like them fairly.

But he was lying, whether it was to his brother or himself.

The ceremony of your marriage took place in the temple of Baelor, blessed by the septs, your house had asked to make a dress in a very «Tyrell» style, your dress, was less voluminous than that of the princess Rhaenyra at her wedding, the fabrics that made up the dress were fabrics of the greatest weavers of Reach and Essos, in the colors of your house, the nexkline was not too provocative, it just emphasized perfectly your chest, as well as the cut of the dress, which bent your silhouette. She also tackled fine embroidery, golden threads.

The marriages of the royal family attracted many people, the lords and lady of the noblest houses had been the first present, with a part of the people amassing at the entrance of the temple.

But this ceremony although official was not enough for Daemon, this ceremony had taken place to please your family and the king, but the ceremony that followed, before the eyes of some witnesses was much more official for the prince. The Valeryen ritual legitimately united you against Rhaenyra who had only the marriage of the seven to satisfy herself. This ceremony is the consequence of gossip, not for the least subtle. For the most part, they were insulting to your physique and your home. "It seems that the prince got her pregnant." "Did you see how big she is? Oh yes, she was already fat." Add giggles and you’ll only get a sample of the hallway gossip.

At the beginning of your marriage, Daemon visited you almost every night, the others he stayed with Rhaenyra, you could feel the princess’s gaze being more and more present and heavy, Your only ally in the Reed Keep was Queen Laenna and a surprising few knights of her close guard, from the young Sir Criston Cole. In the moments when Daemon was not with you, you visited the queen, although her visits were rare and spaced out.

The news of your pregnancy, did not surprise people, the prince ravages you almost every night, it was inevitable that you waited, by chance, so quickly, your first child. Rhaenyra already spoke to you very little, the communication was for a moment interrupted, Laenna ordered to her closest guards to watch on you and the unborn child. Your only refuge in the castle was the gardens that reminded you of home, Sir Cole working for your safety. He seemed to hold a kind of resentment towards the princess but you did not question him, for the first time, you had the feeling that the answer would not please you.

At the first delivery, Daemon was in the hallway of your room, he watched whether Cole who was posted at the entrance, Queen Laenna and Viserys were at his side, only the princess was again absent.

“Daemon she will be fine, she’s strong.”

Laenna tried to reassure him, but Daemon, listening to your incessant cries, was nothing more than a mixture of feelings, of anger towards the mestres, of fear, that something bad happened to you or the baby, of the joy of being a father again.

"DAEMON!!"

Your husband looked at the wall that separated him from your presence. For the first time in a long time he felt fear, true fear. With his heart racing to break everything, he held himself back.

“Go to your wife, Y/n needs you.” Viserys have spoked.

It was with trembling hands that Daemon entered, under the gaze of Sir Cole, the mestres present watched him astonish, never of the other births had he disdained entering before the end of the delivery.

“My Prince? The delivery is not over.”

Daemon was aware of it, if anything happened to you, he would be in the front row to kill the incompetent mestres.

The painful delivery ended after a very long day. You were exhausted, perspiration dripped from your forehead, the sheets were in places tearing so much that you had held them forcefully, you asked to carry your child, even though you were exhausted, you wanted to know that your child was well.

Y/s/n was your first son, he had purple eyes and a silver hair birth. Daemon placed a dragon egg in the cradle of Y/s/n. He stayed by your side for a full week, forcing the king’s advisors to wait in the corridor for an interview or a simple visit. Your parents, accompanied by Lord Matthos Tyrell and your aunt, were the first outside the Red Keep to visit you, Alicent followed closely, accompanied by her future husband.

Congratulations came from all over the kingdom, the birth of a child out of marriage between Targaryen was better seen. Gifts from all Westeros were sent, far more than Rhaenyra had ever had.

If the princess had never agreed to Daemon’s remarriage, she had not openly explained it to her family members. But the more her husband changed, the more a feeling of jealousy devoured her. She thought she was the only person for whom Daemon would remain faithful, she had believed him when he promised her that she would remain his priority. Now Rhaenyra no longer believed Daemon. In the vengeful years, her husband showed signs of favoritism, spending his days first teaching Y/s/n the High Valyrian, then defending herself while it was she who taught Jace and Luke the Valyrian. Joffrey grew up and although Daemon was present, he took him less and less for his father, Sir Strong who visited the princess gradually became a surrogate father. Rhaenyra ends up leaving an ultimatum to Daemon, one winter evening, she was waiting in the gardens, everyone knew that this was your refuge.

The same morning you were with your family in the dragon pit, Y/s/n was learning to lead d/n (dragon name), Daemon was more than proud of his children, your last-born, Baela was in your arms, you watched as your son’s eyes lit up in front of the little dragon following his requests, Caraxes was near, your twins born of the second pregnancy, caressed the great red dragon. Caraxes let a roar of satisfaction pass.

This warmth contrasted with the icy wind of the gardens, winter was at its zenith, the dormant flora, reminded you of Highgarden, which at times you missed.

Sir Cole was a few meters from you, Daemon knowing the resentment that the knight held against the princess, let him be your sworn shield, Criston would never have let Rhaenyra hurt you and he was sure of that.

Yet the princess was waiting for you, she wanted to secured her hold over her husband, even if it meant something bad.

"Princess?" Your voice echoed in the lifeless garden.

“I am not here for peace.”

« What peace? We’re not in conflict, princess." You were upset.

“Oh yes… Ever since MY husband fell in love with you. You are nothing, no more than a whore in the slums of King’s Landing.”

You felt Sir Cole stiffen up last, you could only imagine the knight holding his hand on the knob of his sword.

« You are badly placed Rhaenyra to speak to me in this way, when you, was less old than I was at my wedding be dragging a rumor about your visit to the debauchery places, more than one lord calls you, hanging around your back. Everyone thinks that you lost your maidenhood in its place and that your marriage to Daemon was there to avoid humiliating your father’s honor.”

"How dare you speak to me like this?! To your future queen!"

“The truth is painful to hear, I see.”

"I will make you! …"

"What are you going to do, Rhaenyra?"

Rhaenyra who had approached you looked up and saw behind you, Sir Cole sword in hand and Daemon standing by his side.

“D… Daemon… Nothing I promise you.”

Rhaenyra felt her blood freezing in her veins. She didn’t expect Daemon to be present. Daemon ordered Sir Criston to escort you to your children. He had to settle some conflicts with his niece.

Rhaenyra approached Daemon, a look that was meant to be sweet but also showed fear. As she placed a hand on his chest, he grabbed her by the throat tightening enough to hold her without choking her.

“If you threatenh Y/n or I learn that you orchestrate the slightest evil toward her or our children. You will regret it bitterly.”

“D… Daemon…” Rhaenyra was trying to free herself from the prince’s grip.

Daemon looked at her a few seconds before letting go of her grip. He left, without saying a word, walking towards the corridors of the Red Keep.

At the time of Viserys’s death, all were in mourning, Daemon had let his anger explode against the mestres who had not been able to heal his brother. Rhaenyra though devastated by the death of her father was thinking only of one thing, the throne, she would rule Westeros and could proclaim that your union with Daemon would be annulled and proclaimed that your children would be bastards. But… she was caught off guard.

On the morning of the coronation, Rhaenyra woke up in her room, usually the maids came to wake her up, and dressed her, but this time a man was sitting near the entrance, partially hidden by the shadow which was projected by the wardrobe nearby, A cane was visible. Rhaenyra knew this person, she had already met him before. Larys Strong was close to Alicent and close to you.

“Hello Princess”

"What are you doing here?"

“It just so happens that a plot to lose a friend has come to my ears.”

"Daemon will not leave you alive if anything happens to me! Guard!"

Rhaenyra got up rushing to his window to scream for help. But the one was blocked.

“No one will come to your aid at this time, princess, and I doubt that King Daemon will judge me if anything happens to you.”

Rhaenyra trembled, the fear she felt increased, her body trembled, her hands became sweaty and tears formed in her eyes.

 

On the other side of the city, Daemon was walking in the temple of Baelor, approaching the priest who held the crown of Aegon the conqueror. You stood beside Laenna, and your children, and his first children with Rhaenyra. In the future he was going to proclaim you queen consorts, Rhaenyra would have nothing, Jace, Luke and Joffrey sent through Westeros to marry with less important houses, to leave the crown when the time came to Y/s/n, spanking it noted and signed, reminding the lords each year that he would be the future king of Westeros. But for the moment he thought it could wait, he had a queen to proclaim. His sweet flower.

#request #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #Daemon x chubby reader #Daemon targaryen x chubby reader #Tyrell!reader #house of the dragon fanfiction

[poisonsage808]

♡ Flowers ♡

w/ dany, sansa, arya, brienne and margaery w/ gender neautral reader

(A/N: everyone in this is 18+, we’re not gonna look into the timeline of that like we’re not gonna look into the fact some flowers just aren’t available in certain areas lmao)

♡Daenerys♡

• She’s probably already been given every flower ever known to man, you tell yourself before you can round the corner and greet the dragon queen

• Discouraged, you turn back around only to almost bump into Missandei who smiles, “Are those for the khaleesi?” she asks pointing to the tray in your hand

• Lemon hibiscus cookies with the edges rolled into sugar crystals sat on a meticulously detailed plate

• The idea seemed good some hours ago while you were making them.. and a few months ago when the idea came to you in the first place (It took a while to get everything together and even longer to quiet your nerves about it)

• “No— I mean, yes but she didn’t ask for them and it’s so close to—“

• Missandei is smart, she’s nudging you onto the balcony where Daenerys is watching her dragons fly, “Khaleesi, you have a visitor.”

• The queen’s smile has you go rigid and your grip on the tray tightens as you offer it to her with a bowed head

• “What an interesting combination. How did you make it purple?”

“Hibiscus flowers, your grace. I-I dried the petals and made them into a powder.”

• Missandei fights back a smile while informing the queen it takes two weeks to dry out flowers and how purple hibiscus flowers haven’t bloomed in two months

• “You’ve put quite a bit of time into these then?” Daenerys asks. You nod, cheeks rosy under her gaze

• She takes another bite and doesn’t hide the smirk that tugs at her lip, “I think I’ll need to bring you with me when I cross the sea. I’ll miss your pastries too much to leave you here.”

♡Sansa♡

• The last time she was given a flower it was by a Tyrell and it was so long ago she can’t recall which it was or if the act was genuine. It probably wasn’t, she tells you

• So you devoted hours in the library, left before the sun rose and returned when it was falling

• You waited patiently to catch a moment of the queen’s busy day and blush when she comments on your absence. “I’ve been looking for you, they told me your horse was gone before anyone woke.”

• Sansa’s stoic expression falters when you present one long stem with purple blooming flowers from behind your back, “They’re gladiolus— gl-gladioli? They represent strength, integrity and remembrance.. and so do you, your grace.”

• You just meant to give her a happier memory, a true gesture of adoration, not make her cry!

• When Sansa tears up you frantically apologize but she wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you into a tight hug

♡Arya♡

• Ladies are given flowers and Arya Stark is not a lady so you’ll have to be subtle with the gesture as well as unconventional

• Gift it to her in private

• A leather bracelet with lilies engraved on the underside; a flower associated with rebirth. It seemed fitting and Arya agrees, asking you to tie it on for her

• She wears it proudly every day and waves to you with the hand that displays it, sometimes with a wink like it’s a secret between the two of you

♡Brienne♡

• She’s never gotten flowers before and you debate for a long time if it would offend her or not… You decide to find out and ask forgiveness later should that be the case

• After she’s completed her duties for the night, you approach just before she retires to her chambers

• As always, Brienne smiles politely and nods at you, greeting you and saying your name so sweetly your knees wobble a bit. It mattered not if the day she had was long and tiring, she asks if she can help you with something

• “You could take this off my hands,” You laugh nervously as you hold out the single stem with many white flowers, “I hear they call it a fallen star.”

• Astrantia, a symbol of protection, strength and courage

• Brienne’s lips part and a blush erupts on her cheeks as she holds it closer to her face, “No one’s ever given me flowers.” she almost whispers

• “I’ll consider myself the luckiest person alive to be the first, and everyone else a fool for not doing it sooner.”

• She keeps those flowers until they wilt but before then, you’ve given her more and her words of thanks slowly become kisses instead

♡Margaery♡

• Y’know what’s a worse idea than giving a Tyrell a rose? Giving the cruel, boy king’s intended a rose

• You have to be much, much more clever than that. Luckily, the woman you fancy speaks the language of flowers

• Yellow mums are placed on her seat and you watch from a distance as she cautiously looks around in genuine surprise. A secret admirer

• That same look and those gorgeous eyes once again scan the area some days later when she’s handed a drink with marigold sticking over the rim of the glass

• “Is something the matter?” Someone asks her. You turn away just when she catches you watching from a distance. Margaery shakes her head with a bright blush on her cheeks, “Not at all.”

• There’s a red rose in your room that night, and being held by the queen to be. She smiles and says, “I was hoping they were from you.”

• Y’know what’s stupider than accepting a rose from the king’s betrothed? Kissing her until both your lips are bruised

#poiboidrabbles #x reader #game of thrones imagine #imagine #game of thrones #daemon targeryen x reader #sansa stark x reader #arya stark x reader #brienne x reader #margaery tyrell x reader

[tinfairies]

Okay, I want a list of characters in your opinion from loudest to quietest during sex 💖

Loud, and shameless: Aegon, Margaery, Tyrion, Theon

Loud and embarrassed: Podrick, Jon, Sansa, Helaena

Moans, but isn't crazy about it: Daenerys, Rhaenyra, Robb, Jace, Alicent

Sighs, and groans: Aemond, Ramsey, Daemon

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #aegon targaryen #house of the dragon imagine #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #daenerys targaryen #margaery tyrell #sansa stark #robb stark #jon snow #theon greyjoy #ramsey bolton #tyrion lannister #podrick payne

[witchthewriter]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!    

a/n: this is the female character edition, I will do a part 2 for the male characters. Also... how I see the characters Hogwarts House, MBTI, Zodiac signs and moral alignments can totally be argued. 

Warnings: spoilers I guess? I mean it’s been out for ages but if you’re only just watching the show then ... yeah spoilers

ᴹ��ˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ    

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐲

🌿ENFJ 🍁Slytherin 📜Chaotic Good >> Chaotic Neutral  🔮Aries Sun, Cancer Moon, Leo Rising  

・She needs someone who is accepting of her leadership. Throughout history, many royal relationships fail because one doesn’t like the other being in the lead. So Dany needs someone who is okay with her being in charge

・Dany needs someone who is intuitive, sensitive but not afraid of voicing their opinion 

・Someone who goes out of their way to make her feel seen - not just in a leadership sense, but her history, where she came from, her ancestors, her family. 

・She needs someone who understands the political value of marriage and how to work the game of thrones. 

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:

Gemini, Leo, and Sagittarius. These signs are full of life, ready to grasp the bull by the horns. Leo and Sagittarius work with Aries because they’re fellow fire signs - they have the same emotional and mental appetite. Gemini works because they’re -ready -, they’re witty and intelligent. 

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:

INFP & ISFP, are great matches as they’re intuitively inclined, and who can keep a good/interesting conversation. Personal growth is important to ENFJs and these signs will encourage as well as grow along with them. 

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:

Emotionally Unstable (You) x Also Emotionally Unstable But Tries To Hide It (Dany)

Sun x Moon

Both Wary of Love & Don’t Think This Can Be Real

𝐘𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞

🌿ESFP 🍁Gryffindor 📜Chaotic Neutral 🔮Sagittarius Sun, Aquarius Moon, Virgo Rising  

・Ygritte is a wild woman, she’s independent and thrill-seeking. But that doesn’t necessarily mean she needs someone who is the exact same.

・Ygritte would love being with someone who shows her new places, cultures and ways of living. 

・She’s very open-minded and wouldn’t work with someone who is traditional

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:

The fiery Aries, the vivacious Leo and the adventurous Gemini. Those that can keep up with the Sagittarius’ wildness, their need for adventure and new experiences. These signs aren’t conventional, they’re broad-minded - open to new things.

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:

INTJ, INFJ, ISTJ, and ISFJ  types who are more introverted, who can give ESFPs new perspectives and opinions on things. The ideal relationship for an ESFP is one that fulfills their need for attention while giving them the freedom to follow their own goals. 

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:

Isn't Scared of Anything (Ygritte) x Worries About Everything (You)

Thinks They're In Charge (Ygritte) x Is Actually In Charge (You)

Teases Them (Ygritte) x About To End Them (You)

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐚

🌿ESFJ 🍁Gryffindor 📜Neutral Good 🔮Libra Sun, Virgo Moon, Taurus Rising

・Sansa has had a traumatic upbringing - 

・And she doesn’t trust easily, nor does she actively pursue love

・So she needs someone who will move slowly; act on her terms, not push her, not make her feel closed in

・I think love would spark with someone who makes her feel safe, but is also very sharp and quick with their come backs. She would love someone with great banter. 

・She would also do well with someone who is lighthearted and isn’t scared of making a fool of themselves

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:

Aquarius, Sagittarius, Gemini and Taurus. The air signs work because Libra is a fellow air sign - they’ve got the similar witty repartee. Sagittarius makes Libra feel safe while still encouraging them and lighting their adventurous side. Taurus works with Libra well because they’re both ruled by Venus - the planet of love; which makes both of them lovers of luxury, art and romance.

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:

ESFJ's natural partner is the ISFP, or the INFP. ESFJs need someone who is open with their feelings and who is honest with their desires. They have similar decision making abilities. 

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:

Dumbass (You) x Oh God I Guess That’s My Dumbass (Sansa)

Opposites Attract 

Character That Doesn't Believe The Other Could Ever Love Them Back But They Do

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐢

🌿ISFJ 🍁Ravenclaw 📜Lawful Good turned Chaotic Good turned Chaotic Neutral? 🔮Pisces Sun, Virgo Moon, Libra Rising  

・Missandei needs someone who is willing to take the time to get to know her. Who won’t rush her into a relationship or make her feel pushed beyond her limits. 

・She needs someone who will make her feel safe - as her safety wasn’t guaranteed until Dany came along 

・Missandei is also highly intelligent; she knows multiple languages, understands many cultures and is able to hold a lot of information in her mind.

・She’s quite stoic but very compassionate - until pushed to her limits. So she will do well with a partner that has a soft side; a gentle heart 

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:

Taurus, Cancer, Scorpio, Capricorn. Taurus and Pisces have the dreamy Neptune and romantic Venus energies, they’d have a long lasting relationship filled with unconditional love, immense affection, and emotional depth. Cancer and Scorpio work with Pisces as they’re all water signs; sensitive, empathic, understanding, and committed. Capricorn and Pisces work because Saturn-ruled Capricorn is very much emotionally guarded and likes to see all the facts. It levels out the Pisces, whose dreamy nature can cloud their judgement. 

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:

ISFJs thrive in relationships where they can freely provide care and empathetic understanding while receiving appreciation. They’re most compatible with ESFP & ESTP. ESTPs work with ISFJs as they allow them their freedom, while also giving clear and honest communication - which ISFJs need. ISFJs are drawn to the ESFPs passionate, high-energy personality. 

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:

Emotional Support Animal In Human Form

Always Bringing Them Rocks They Think They Would Like (You) x Keeps The Rocks (Missandei)

Closed Off (Missandei) x The Person They Warm Up To (You)

𝐀𝐫𝐲𝐚

🌿ISTP 🍁Gryffindor 📜Chaotic Neutral 🔮Gemini Sun, Aries Moon, Sagittarius Rising  

・Arya cannot be limitied, she can’t be held down or given too much responsibility. If so, than she shuts down and feels trapped. 

・She needs a partner who is just as adventurous, and exploratory as she is. 

・Arya despises tradition and all her life she hated being told what to do and who to be. 

・She needs a partner who who is just as open-minded and forward thinking, someone who will amplify her visions rather than shut them down

・Arya needs someone who doesn’t want to settle down, they want to keep exploring, keep moving, keep travelling

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:

Aries, Leo, Libra, and Aquarius. Aries & Gemini work because they’re both thrill-seeking, high-energy, and outgoing. Leo & Gemini work because they’re both full of boundless energy and love to be in a crowd. Libra & Gemini work because have similar intellectual temperaments and interests, which means they'll understand one another on a fundamental level. Gemini & Aquarius work because they’re both flirtatious, playful, and spirited, these two bond over a shared sense of humor and communication.

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:

ESTJ & ENTJ, as they understand ISTPs importance in maximizing life in the moment, prioritizing rationality, and exploring the world.ISTPs will use their problem-solving skills to assist their partners through difficult moments.

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:

I Don’t Know What I’m Doing But At Least I’m Alive, Right? (Arya) x You’re Doing Great, Sweetie (You)

Death (Arya) x the Maiden/Bachelor (You) 

Opposites Attract

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲

🌿ENFJ 🍁Slytherin 📜Neutral Good 🔮Cancer Sun, Gemini Moon, Aquarius Rising  

・Margaery knows the game, and she’s ready to parttake. 

・Nothing seems too dangerous or overwhelming for her - she can handle a lot more than people give her credit for. She figured out Cersei, was able to maneuver the High Sparrow and became Queen ... twice

・Her potential was endless, but we never saw her with someone in a truly romantic light.

・I think she needs someone who is witty, sharp and not easily overwhelmed 

・Margaery takes the role of being Queen seriously though, and wants to help the people rather than treat them how Cersei has been

・Margaery has new ideas and ways of doing things - 

・She’d need a partner who supports that, who wants to make good changes in the world.

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:

Pisces, Taurus and Scorpio. Both Cancers and Taurus’ highly prize loyalty, so they'll be committed to each other for the long haul. Pisces work because they are both water signs, both Cancer and Pisces are highly in-tune with their feelings, as well as the feelings of others. Both Cancers and Scorpios are loyal, honest, and tend to feel their emotions very strongly.

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:

INFP, ISFP and INFJ. INFP is the ENFJ’s mirror match, they’d make a wonderful, stable match long-term, with both providing and receiving emotional validation to each other. ISFP’s equally giving, self-sacrificing quality, and ENFJ’s natural, abundant kindness. INFJs are compatible because they have similar values, however very different perspectives. They’d have good conversations/debates without it becoming exhausting.

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:

You Fell First, But They Fell Harder

Initially Distant, but Mutual Yearning 

Confident & Flirty (Margaery) x Has Never Been Flirted With Before, Thinks They're Just Being Nice (You)

𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞

🌿ISTJ 🍁Hufflepuff 📜Lawful Good 🔮Virgo Sun, Capricorn Moon, Pisces Rising  

・Brienne seems to be a stoic person who doesn’t need anyone. But on the inside she craves a person, place or group to belong to. Somewhere to fit in. 

・She needs someone who is reliable, who will be by her side no matter how hard life gets. Stability means a lot to Brienne. 

・Brienne craves steadiness and thrives on a well-planned existence

・Her partner needs to understands that she may need some alone time though, as she is an introverted person

・ She may not show it openly, but she will value her partner immensely.

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:

Scorpio, Capricorn, Taurus and Cancer. Scorpio and Virgo work because Scorpio is highly perceptive and intelligent, and they both appreciate a well-planned life. Capricorn and Virgo work because they’re equal parts pragmatic and passionate, Cap and Virgo work side-by-side to care for loved ones and create a welcoming home. Taurus and Virgo work because they both like things to look and feel "just right," making a good team for creating a sophisticated, traditional home. Cancer and Virgo work because Cancer is also nurturing by nature, and Virgos are attracted to fellow givers.

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:

ISTJ's natural partner is the ESFP, ESTP, ESFJ. ISTJs need loyalty, dedication, a person who is a good listener, as well as being pragmatic. They focus on logic, and with Brienne being a Virgo, this is especially true. Her earth sign, mixed with her mbti means she is down to earth and needs someone with a clear mindset, rather than someone who is up in the clouds. 

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:

Tol x Smol

They probably hate me (You) x Deeply, passionately in love … is terrible at showing it (Brienne)

Home Is Wherever You Are

𝐂𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐢

🌿ENTJ 🍁Slytherin 📜Neutral Evil 🔮Leo Sun, Scorpio Moon, Gemini Rising  

・Cersei needs someone who will stand by her side no matter what. Who is painstakingly loyal - but also someone who can’t be tricked or have the wool pulled over their eyes. They need to be one step ahead of everyone, and times, even ahead of Cersei

・Cersei can be very overpowering and dominant. I think she wants someone to step up and make the hard decisions, someone to match her energy, to go above her energy. 

・Her romantic partner needs to be firm in their decisions and who isn’t easily swayed. But also who isn’t too traditional or close-minded. 

・She wants someone who is assertive, intelligent and can handle her quips. Maybe someone with a hardened exterior

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄:

The fellow fire signs Aries, Gemini, Sagittarius and Libra.. The air signs; Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, would also keep Cersei on her toes - the fast-paced and witty energy would make her life feel exciting. Aries and Leo/ Leo and Sagittarius work because both fire signs, and their combination of intense passion and high-achievement is a recipe for success. 

𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝑩𝑻𝑰:

INTP, or ISTP as they have ambitious goals and like to innovate.ENTJs are attracted to drive and passion. They want someone who has ambition, someone who wants to go above the rest.

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔/𝒐:

Snarky Power Couple That Can, And Probably Will, Destroy You

You're The Only One Who Understands Me

I was hired to kill you, but now I want to protect you.

#cersei lannister #cersei lannister headcanons #game of thrones preferences #perfect match #witch the writer preferences #brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth headcanons #arya stark #arya stark headcanons #sansa stark headcanons #sansa stark #daenerys targeryan #daemon targaryen x reader #dany targaryen #game of thrones #got #got preferences #ygritte headcanons #wildlings #margaery tyrell #margaery tyrell headcanons #missandei #missandei headcanons #witchthewriter #headcanons

[blueberrypancakesworld]

I’d like to request a fic where Daemon kidnaps his one sided crush at their wedding ceremony to someone else.

I like your request very and it was interesting to write it. So I hope you and the others like it. Thanks fore the request anon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A present

warning : obsession , one sided love

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sounds came from the music of the great hall of the castle in King's Landing. The occasion was the wedding of Lady Y/n, who was now married as the new Lady of Highgarden to her husband, the Lord and leader of the Tyrells.

The crown itself knew about the importance of the two and therefore offered its own halls to celebrate the wedding. There were hundreds of people attending and they were all there either for the food, the dance, the politics or as in Daemon's case for something else.

The new Lady of Highgarden sat next to her husband at the King's table and surveyed the dancing people while nodding at her wine every now and then. She saw House Strong, House Stark, the Hightowers and also Laenor with Rhaenyra dancing in the crowd. They were all dancing happily except for herself with her husband.

Although she had only glimpsed him before and heard the stories about the house and the prospective lord, she quickly realized that he was anything but a handsome flower. So he looked good on the outside, young and in the prime of his years.

But inside he was insolent, unfair, exploitative and only too happy to take his wine. ,,Do you want to dance husband?" she asked for the third time and saw him take a sip of wine. ,,In a moment, my lady," he murmured, before almost swearing and starting a conversation with the king's hand. Finishing her goblet, she rose and went into the crowd of dancers.

As soon as she entered, she danced with the first lord. ,,My lady" he said and she recognized the beehive on his coat of arms. ,,Beesbury" she said and danced with the son of Lord Beesbury in the crowd. He was attractively sincere, kind and genuine. Before she was married to Lord Tyrell, she spent every free minute in the gardens and meadows.

There she met not only the small yellow-black insects, but also the Beesbury who told her every time something new about the animals or flowers. And soon they realized that they were more than just friends. But soon they had to realize when she was married to the Tyrell that their relationship broke apart. The two were all the more pleased when they at least now had time.

But already at the next turn she was with another man and with another. It was the first time that evening that she felt a little freer again. No longer as restricted as on the chair next to her husband who had not really looked at her. ,,Little Rose" she heard someone say before someone took the lead in the dance.

When she felt someone grab her hand and put the other one on her hip. ,,Daemon" she said, slightly astonished but also slightly confused. The Targaryen prince gave her a slight smile as he continued to move her across the dance floor.

His violet eyes swept over her body and for the first time there seemed to be something of an opportunity in his gaze. She looked past him and tried to find her lover again. But there were too many people around her. ,,I have a gift for my bride" she heard him purr and she got goose bumps when she realized what he said.

She didn't like the prince very much, he was cheeky, brutal and saw everything as a game. She was only polite to him because he was the prince, but she knew that he had always built on it. But before she could say anything else, a sweet scent rose to her nose. The music in the room became duller and she felt unspeakably tired.

Her attempt to get away from the prince failed when he picked her up. ,,Don't," she mumbled, but her world was already starting to turn. And the last thing she saw were the bright torches and candles dancing to the music before she plunged into darkness. How much time passed as she slowly regained consciousness she did not know.

But the first thing she felt was the cold. Before she opened her heavy eyes and saw nothing but the sea. Confusion came to her mind before a startled cry came from her. She was not on a ship because no ship could be several hundred meters above the sea.

No, when she looked down and her hands brushed over something hard and scaly, she knew what she was on. ,,Caraxes" came the dragon's name from her lips and the beast shrieked, making her wince. ,,My pretty flower, look forward to your gift" she heard him say as he wrapped his hands around her from behind as she sat in front of him. Her body tensed when she saw the old Targaryen castle.

,,My gift, my darling, I know you've always wanted it. Dragonstone let it become the place for our mutual fire" he said and the conviction that it would actually become something resonated in his voice. ,,I don't love you, Dameon," she dared to say, but she stubbornly looked straight ahead, because escape was not possible.

He reached around her and put his hand on her neck. The leather was cold and yet there was a certain pressure behind it. ,,Everyone loves a dragon, my flower, you just have to recognize its beauty," he crooned before Caraxes flew faster towards the castle.

The prince had long been addicted to the Targaryen coin of madness, and his flower would eventually share this madness. She did not have a choice, the dragon had put his fire around her and she could never escape. She belonged to him alone. Daemon Targaryen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#x reader #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon x you #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #caraxes #house tyrell #lord beesbury #obsession #obsessive thoughts #dragonstone

[chimerathewriter]

I have an urge to....

I have an urge to make a Barbie princess charmed school (without the barbie magic) House of the dragon with Aemond , Jace, Luke Baela and Rhaena  fanfic where there are other kingdoms all over the world, and for peace diplomacy the heirs of many houses go to the same school in one specific kingdom. And maybe to heal the kids relationship after two years after the accident. 

Just wholesome gangasta kids (because how they were all unhinged in that episode), healing, fluff, birth of long frienship and writer having the power to change literally anything because is a fanfiction

And I would like to put as many cultures but now I don’t have a lot of other ethnic names and surnames (male female), from south east asian, east asian, middle eat, balkan, West, East and Northern European, Arab, African (From North to South, East and West) Polyneasian, Latin America, Caribbean anything I will try to make some research from clothing, religion language and advice is always accepted.

#aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond Targaryen #house of the dragon #games of thrones #lucerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon #house tyrell #house baratheon #baela targaryen #rhaena velaryon #aemond targaryen x black reader #black reader #Oc #original character #black!fem!reader #daemon targeryan #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenys velaryon #corlys valeryon #viserys i targaryen #alicent hightower #otto hightower

[iluvbrains]

HOTD

Under A Dragon’s Spell

↳ House Lykaeryen’s history

↳ Cast

↳ Supporting Cast

↳ CH 1

#rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #hotd #my fic #hotd fic #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x oc #house stark #house martell #house tyrell #king viserys

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Se Zaldrizoti' Prumia - Chapter 9: The Ticking of Time

Chapter 9: The Ticking of Time

The primal urge to survive oft drives decisions made in haste.

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 |

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist | 

Warnings: Slight angst, Otto Hightower, flashbacksssss

Word Count: 8k words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 

A/N: Happy Christmas Eve to all who celebrate! Finally, the long awaited chapter 9. I hope you enjoy! (and psst, a small Christmas surprise coming soon! Unfortunately, it's not chapter 10, but hopefully you'll be as happy ;)

lovely dividers by @firefly-graphics !

The smell of rose oil permeated the air of Queen Alicent’s chambers, and the sounds of Aegon smashing his wooden dragon toy against his wooden tower toy could be heard, as the boy made roaring noises. Alicent watched the scene with slight amusement, as Helaena sat on her lap, docile, a rare moment of serenity. It was much needed, especially after the recent scandal that rocked the Red Keep and her contentious conversation with Rhaenyra a week prior.

Speaking of serenity…

Alicent trailed her gaze to a forlorn looking figure, sitting next to Aegon on the lushly woven Myrish carpet, her skirts splayed as she absentmindedly fiddled with a wooden dragon toy. 

“You’ve been quiet,” Alicent noted, trying to breach your diminished figure. She hesitated on whether to verbalise what she knew your mind was occupied with, “Are…are you still angry at Prince Daemon’s latest transgressions?” 

Once again, the tranquillity of nightfall had descended upon the Red Keep. The King’s solar was empty after the boisterous dinner that Viserys was lording over, elated to have his brother by his side again. Viserys and Rhaenyra had long since retired to bed, and now, there was only you and Daemon. 

Daemon lay sprawled on the large settee, looking bored as he twirled a newly forged dagger in his hands, gifted by his ever generous brother to celebrate his return. The firelight glinted off the large ruby set in the pommel, and he weighed it between his hands. Not Valyrian steel, like Dark Sister was, but he tended to cherish any gifts his brother gave that were not disappointment or frustration. Which was a rarity. 

Daemon’s bored gaze trailed to your figure, looking far too relaxed as you sat on the other end of the settee, face burrowed in a heavy tome. Daemon groaned, trying to get your attention and stop reading that godsforsaken book, but you only hummed, nonchalant, flipping to the next page. Daemon narrowed his eyes. 

Your attention was fully invested in a chapter about the medicinal properties of hemlock in the newest tome you had successfully bribed the maesters for, when a sudden poke at your cheek caused an indignant noise to be elicited from your throat. “What in the Seven Hells,” you snapped your tome shut to glare at Daemon’s smug face, resting so close to your lap it made your heart thud in your chest. “Are you doing?” 

“Trying to get your attention,” he said simply, putting his dagger down onto the tea table. 

You levelled an unimpressed look at him. “And that required you to poke me in the cheek? What are you, five?” 

“Perhaps.” 

You huffed, vexed, picking up your tome again. “Byka zaldrizes, I gave up precious time that could be spent doing something else just to spend it with you. Surely, you can spare this forlorn prince of yours some of your attention.” 

“Well, no one asked you to,” you said drily, your eyes flickering as they darted between the lines. “And we all know that your time will be spent mucking about in the Street of Silk, in some unlucky whore’s bed or getting drunk in your cups like some undignified ruffian.” 

“Anyone who has the good fortune of bedding me is touched by the gods themselves,” Daemon’s snarky tone made you roll your eyes. Him and his overinflated ego. “And your assumptions wound me, byka zaldrizes. Do you not trust that my time in the Stepstones have made me more mature?” 

Daemon was delighted by you putting your book down again, only to be greeted by your deadpan stare. “...are you still in possess of a cock?” 

Daemon cocked a brow, eyes shifting down as if pretending to check. “I do believe so, yes. It would be a tragedy if I wasn’t.” You flashed him a sweetly sardonic smile, “Then I do believe no more needs to be said.” 

Daemon groaned when you returned to reading your book, debating on the merits of just slapping it out of your hand. It would result in some very colourful language bursting from your lips, but it would be fun. 

“Truly, your faith in me is awe-inspiring,” Daemon remarked sarcastically. “And what if I said that this time I promise to stay for the foreseeable future?” 

You tilted your head to the side, detracted from your book once more. “Somehow I do not believe that. Trouble always seems to find you one way or another.” 

Daemon rolled his eyes, flashing you a devastatingly handsome grin that you had to fight a strange squirming sensation in your stomach. “Then I swear to the Seven Gods that I will stay out of trouble. I won’t curb my excursions to Flea Bottom of course,” Daemon added, seeing your incredulous look. “A man does have his urges. And you know of my nature.” Daemon smirked. “But I think I’m capable enough not to commit another act that would warrant exile. Don’t you think?” 

Your answering laugh echoed throughout the solar. But for a brief moment, you had believed him. After all, what more trouble could Daemon possibly incur? 

You finally broke out of your empty daze, letting out a low, slightly hoarse laugh. “I am. But he is not the only object of my ire,” you admitted, sighing as you lowered your eyes to where Aegon was banging his wooden dragon against the carpet. Thank the Seven it was soft or he would’ve dented the dragon by now. 

Confusion wrinkled Alicent’s features, but then her eyes shone with comprehension. “...are you perhaps feeling some anger towards Rhaenyra?” 

Your head snapped up, a slightly horrified look painted on your face. “No, of course not. Daemon is fully to blame for this situation.” 

You took a deep breath, feeling shame course through you like boiling water through your veins. You had known, that in some awful way, your conversation with Rhaenyra had indirectly led to the explosion of this scandal. Now, Daemon was exiled again - though you couldn't care less about that - Rhaenyra’s virtue had been called into question, and she was forced to hastily wed Ser Laenor. And the guilt had been eating you alive ever since. But you had not known your harmless words would lead to such a catastrophic end. ‘I am not cut out for this,’ you thought glumly to yourself. ‘That wise paragon of advice I was trying to emulate. I never was any of that.’ 

‘How foolish of me to play at a role I lack the foresight for.’ 

Nonetheless, your thoughts returned to the person who is mainly to blame for this situation.  

‘Stupid, stupid Daemon,’ you cursed in your head, fingers tightening around the wooden dragon toy. ‘How stupid of me to believe that he could’ve changed, that he couldn’t sink any lower. Stupid, stupid, stupid.’ 

At least one somewhat good thing had arisen out of this mess. The ‘resignation’ of Otto Hightower. 

Though many knew it was just a term meant to preserve the dignity of the former Lord Hand. 

You were not sorry to see the man go - you had disliked him ever since his orchestration of the debacle with Alicent and Viserys years ago. However, you were sorry to see Alicent’s distraught state for the past few days. You understood her - she was all alone now, this was almost as great of a loss to her as Aemma’s loss to you was. Being bereft of a figure of comfort and support. 

You studied Alicent, noting the slight eye bags under her eyes. You made a mental note to brew her a stronger chamomile tea - both to alleviate her stresses after pregnancy and to improve her quality of sleep. 

A sudden knock sounded at the door, and Alicent’s older cousin and one of her ladies-in-waiting, Malena Hightower, entered the room, curtsying. “Your Grace,” you were surprised when Malena turned to you instead. 

“Lady Y/N…a messenger came by earlier. He wished for me to convey the Hand…I mean, Ser Otto’s,” Malena recovered from her bluster with a slight flush, but you noticed Alicent’s face briefly crumple when she heard her father’s title reversion back to Ser. You felt a twinge of sympathy. “He wished for me to convey that Ser Otto wishes to have a discussion with you.” 

The clattering of a teacup on the floor startled the both of us. Alicent looked embarrassed at her clumsiness, as a servant rushed in upon hearing the noise. “Pardon me. Malena, did my father disclose the reason why he wishes for an audience with my chief lady-in-waiting?” You were unnerved by Alicent’s uncharacteristic sharp tone. It was like…she was angry at her father. 

Malena looked similarly unnerved. “Your Grace, I apologise. I do not know. The messenger just said that Ser Otto requested for Lady Y/N’s presence in his study whenever she was available.” 

Alicent kept a calm facade, but inside, her heart was thumping like a surge of wild animals. ‘Is what I have been fearing about to come true? Y/N-’ Alicent swung her gaze to yours, where you were conversing discreetly with Malena. 

“Thank you, Malena. If the messenger is still there, tell him I will be with him momentarily.” Alarm surged through Alicent’s body. She quickly handed Helaena over to the startled servant who had just finished picking up the shattered cup and disposed of it, stepping towards you. 

“Y/N, I do not think you should go.” The words were out of her mouth before she could suppress them. Perplexed, you stared at the younger girl, noticing her panic. It unsettled you. 

You tried to shoot her a reassuring smile. “Alicent, Your Grace-” Alicent immediately motioned for Malena and the servant holding Helaena to retreat out of the room when she noticed you addressing her by her title. They evacuated the room with haste. 

Alicent seized both of your hands in hers, a gesture that startled you with its intensity and urgency. “No, do not go. Please,” she begged, her eyes flickering with a violent storm of conflicting emotions. She knew she should be obedient to her father, and that the meeting could be harmless, but a wrenching gut feeling told her it was not so. 

You looked worried: what exactly had gotten into Alicent? It was unlike her to break her composure, and by such a simple request. Alarm bells began tolling in your head, and just as you were about to tell her that you wouldn’t go, a knock sounded at the door, and you and Alicent promptly broke apart from your intimate stance. 

Malena re-entered the room, along with a man you recognised as one of Otto’s household knights, Ser Garrick Pommingham. This was bad. Alicent made a strangled noise in her throat as she beheld Ser Garrick. It was serious enough that her father had sent a household knight to deliver the message, but Ser Garrick? He was one of her father’s oldest household knights, and fiercely loyal and trusted by Otto. It was clear that the invitation was not one that both you nor Alicent had any say in. 

“My Queen.” Ser Garrick bowed reverently to Alicent, before turning to you and giving you a smaller bow. “Lady Y/N. Shall I escort you to my liege?” 

Any of Alicent’s protests were immediately silenced, as she wrung her hands helplessly. There was no fighting against Ser Garrick, who was an extension of her father, and a bull-headed man at that - always priding himself on completing all his tasks to perfection. 

You knew as well, so you could only give Alicent a small, reassuring smile, trying to comfort her. Steeling yourself, you turned to Ser Garrick with a composed smile.

“Lead the way, Ser.” 

The Tower of the Hand had been the site of a flurry of activity over the past few days, as various servants and household knights bustled in and out of the rooms, carrying and loading up boxes of belongings into carriages to be transported back to Oldtown. 

Otto watched his servants move his things out of his nearly vacant study with an oddly impassive look, as he stewed in his own thoughts at his dismissal. He never thought that he would take up residence in Oldtown ever again, but how quickly the tide could be changed here in King’s Landing. 

The sound of a knock at the door roused him from his thoughts, and soon enough, his loyal household knight, Ser Garrick, showed in the guest he had been expecting. 

“Ah, Lady Y/N. I thank you for coming on such short notice.” 

You entered the room, the skirts of your rose pink gown swishing as you moved into the study. Wariness was woven in every bone of your body, your muscles taut with tension. “Ser Otto,” you nodded at him, not missing how the former Hand’s frame turned stiff at the reversion of his title back to Ser. 

“What matter has caused you to ask me to your study at such a busy time?” 

Otto took a seat at the lavishly appointed chair at his desk. The same desk where he had spent so many nights toiling for King Viserys. Though the chair could no longer be called rightfully his, he leaned into it, gesturing for you to take a seat. Which you did so, though not without reluctance.

"I do not wish to take up too much of your time, as my own time is precious too," Otto stated, his voice blunt as he leaned forward and drummed his fingers on the oak of the desk.

"I have a proposal for you." 

A frown furrowed your eyebrows, but you tried not to show it, smoothing out your skirts instead. “And what is that proposal? I am most interested to hear it.” 

Otto smirked slightly at the small note of sarcasm he detected in your voice. Normally, he would be irked at such disrespect, but it was evident from this that you wished not to play any games. ‘A woman who cuts straight to the chase,’ he thought to himself. ‘No wonder Prince Daemon was drawn to her.’ 

It made things much simpler anyway. 

“I’d like to ask for your hand in marriage,” Otto stated bluntly as he waited for your reaction. 

Meanwhile, you were frozen, as if roots had suddenly sprung from the ground and trapped you in the chair. ‘My hand in marriage?’ The words echoed through your brain. You suddenly recalled Alicent’s guilt stricken expression as she watched you leave her apartments. 

“Ser Otto,” you said quietly. “Surely you are jesting.” 

Otto looked unruffled at that. “I do not jest about such matters, Lady Y/N.” You let some of the incredulity you were feeling slip into your expression. “Allow me to explain the merits of our match,” Otto said calmly, leaning back into his chair. 

“Though I am ashamed of having done so, I had overheard your shouting match with your father at the Kingswood many moons ago.” This made you wince. You did not blame the man, the both of you probably shouted loud enough that those at the Wall could hear you. 

“I understand you are seeking a match, by the end of this year in fact. Which is less than two moons away,” Otto observed you as you tried not to squirm under his intense gaze. “Quite a pressing predicament.” 

Otto sighed. “I know, my dismissal has not made me the most…appealing of matches. What with my status as a second son, standing to inherit nothing short of some wealth and meagre land holdings. However, as you well know, you are not the most appealing of matches as well.” 

When you looked offended, Otto only went on blandly, “Please, do not take offence, Lady Y/N. My words do not come from a place of malice. It is true though, is it not? While you are lovely, your age is not one to be overlooked. You are turning- twenty six? Twenty seven this year? Many lords in Westeros consider this to be well past your prime.” Otto’s eyes glinted. “And the reputation of your…ah, headstrongness, is well known across the Seven Kingdom. As well as your long string of marriage rejections.” 

Otto shrugged, “That aside, think pragmatically. I am moving back to take up residence in Oldtown once more. Should you go with me, you would be much closer to home than here in King’s Landing.” Otto could still see the dubiousness in your eyes, and he knew he had to sweeten the deal up a little more. “And besides, I would not require any children of you.” He knew he had you again when your gaze shot up from looking down fixedly at the wood of his desk. “I am already a widower, with a daughter as Queen and four other strong sons. You would be under no pressure to produce heirs for me. And as a second son, my children stand to inherit next to nothing anyway. Moreover, if you are worried of any mistreatment, fret not. You are my daughter’s dearest companion, and a mother figure to her too. I will treat you with utmost respect” 

You eyed him warily, finally speaking up. “You’ve stated many demerits of this match as well, Ser Otto. Do you truly think it worth it for the both of us to pursue such a match?” 

Otto’s eyes glinted. She was more crafty than he thought. He would have to hammer down the point a little. “Though my inheritance is not rich in titles, I can assure you, it is not something to be overlooked. You would live comfortably, and be free to pursue any of your interests. I heard from the Maesters that you have an interest in healing and scholarly affairs. What better place to expand your knowledge than in Oldtown, home of the Citadel and some of the finest minds in Westeros?” 

Your gaze sharpened at that, he clearly had been keeping tabs on you for a while now. Though his offer was not without temptation of its own. “But why me?” you pressed. “As you have said, I am past my prime and have a wild temper at that. The only merits I possess are my lineage and heirship to Highgarden, and my father has already taken a new wife, so that hangs in the balance as well.” 

Otto smiled, “And that alone is enough.” Otto stood up, slowly walking over to your chair. He took your hand gently, and kissed the back of your hand softly. A frown was etched on your lips, and Otto knew it was best to let the matter go. For now. 

“I shall give you some time to consider it,” Otto rumbled softly, helping you out of your chair. “But the clock is ticking, Lady Y/N. Both for you and I. Once I depart for Oldtown in a few days, the offer shall be rescinded.” His expression was one of faux concern. “And do you truly believe that you would be able to find any other man of suitable standing to court you before your father’s deadline?” 

‘Even now he was not telling the truth, and trying to use wily means to stoke your deepest insecurities to his own gain,’ you thought, regarding the man before you in disdain. The both of you knew the truth of why he sought your hand, not out of compassion or sympathy, but to climb his way back up the political ranks. All of court knew how close you were with the members of House Targaryen, and that you were an ear of the King. otto was clearly trying to use you for his own designs, the same way he had used Alicent, and foist Aegon up onto the Iron Throne, whilst gaining more influence over Viserys - as if he hadn’t have enough already. Disgust pulsed through you. 

You shot Otto a haughty look, brushing off his hand. “This is still a personal matter, Ser Otto, and I mislike the tone of your voice. As a stranger, you would do well to refrain from making comments on my personal life.” 

Otto nodded stiffly. “Of course. I apologise. I overstepped. Shall I escort you back to my daughter’s chambers then?” 

“No need, thank you.” You were eager to put as much distance between you and Otto as soon as possible. And you couldn’t possibly see Alicent with your mind in such a jumbled state. You bowed your head stiffly, “I bid you farewell, Ser. I will…consider your proposal.” He nodded, but you could see his gaze was filled with calculation as you turned your back on him and walked away. 

“Lady Y/N.” Otto’s voice halted you just as your hand was on the door handle. “Just a question.” 

“Do you really think that staking your bets on Prince Daemon would result in a good end?” You stilled, turning around to face him yet again. Your eyes met his cool green ones. “I do not understand what you mean, Ser Otto.” 

“What I meant was,” Otto’s voice was blunt. “I do not think marrying Prince Daemon would bode well for you, if you wish to be closer to the centre of power.” 

You stared incredulously at him, swivelling around to face him fully once again. “I’m afraid you have it all wrong, Ser. I never had that sort of intention.” 

“Ask yourself, do you really believe that?” Otto’s voice was challenging. “Because I do not think you know your heart well enough..”

Astonished and angered by his boldness, you took a step back closer to the door. “Forgive me, Ser Otto, but I do not think you would know my heart better than I do.” You turned to leave, pulling open the door. 

“Search your heart deeply, Lady Y/N,” Otto called out. “You will find my words will ring true.” You didn’t respond, instead choosing to shut the door firmly behind you, leaving Otto Hightower and his delusions of grandeur behind. 

The Red Keep was blessed with a particularly pleasant chill this day, in the midst of a harsh autumn and an impending harsher winter. But you couldn’t bring yourself to admire the red and russet leaves as you normally did, instead wandering aimlessly around the Red Keep like a wraith. 

It was completely absurd for Otto Hightower to think that you got close to Daemon for ulterior motives. Marriage? With that insufferable punk? You snorted. You could barely stand his presence most of the time, let alone marriage. 

It was strange, however. Daemon had always been handsome, dangerously so, and charming, and that had never had an effect on you in the least. But ever since Aemma’s death…ever since his return from the Stepstones. You couldn’t lie, there was something there. The first stirrings of a fire. 

Well, that fire would never burn on damp logs anyway, and that was all thanks to Daemon’s stupidity. You grumbled to yourself, shuddering that you might have carried a torch for Daemon fucking Targaryen. 

You decided to venture into one of the courtyards found in the Red Keep. Perhaps some greenery would restore your senses, and provide a balm for your dilemma. Whatever were you supposed to do? There was no escaping the fact that it was nigh impossible to find a good match within two moons, one that would satisfy both you and your father’s expectations. But was marrying Otto Hightower really your only option? In all your worst nightmares, you never imagined that it could get so bad. While you did not share Daemon’s intense hatred for the man, the man made your skin crawl, with his pleasantries disguising a shrewd mind of warped traditional beliefs. 

‘Could I really be happy with a man like that?’ 

Lost in thought, you didn’t realise you had company until you caught sight of a tall figure with blonde hair, sitting under the shade of a huge willow tree, an intent expression on his face as he sketched away on a piece of parchment. Curious, you approached the lone figure to get a closer look. As you stepped closer however, your heel crunched on a branch, causing the mysterious stranger’s head to snap up. Your eyes snagged onto the sigil pinned to his tunic. 

A Beesbury. 

You inclined your head apologetically, “Beg your pardon, I did not mean to disturb you.” The young man from House Beesbury laughed, scooping up his parchment before walking towards you and bowing. “Lady Y/N. Do not apologise, my day has been made infinitely better by your presence.” 

You let out a small chuckle at his flattering, giving him a discrete once over. Exactly who was this man? Clearly you were not subtle enough, given the fact that he bowed once more, placing a hand to his chest as he did. “You must forgive my rudeness, my lady. My name is Alan Beesbury. My father, Lord Lyman Beesbury, serves on the Small Council as Master of Coin.” You let out a surprise “Oh!” before dipping your head politely. “Ser Alan. You must forgive me, I did not recognise you.” 

Ser Alan smiled brightly, unbothered. “Tis alright, my lady. Granted, I have never been introduced to you in a formal setting, so it is understandable you do not know me.” “How did you recognise me then, ser?” you inquired. “I visited Highgarden with my father a few years ago, and caught sight of you with your lord father. I deeply regret that I was not able to make your acquaintance then. Although it seems,” Alan grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief, “That I am lucky enough to behold your beautiful visage once more, my lady. You have only grown lovelier throughout the years.” You couldn’t refrain from snorting lightly, “You have quite the honeyed tongue, ser.” “Well, it is a useful skill at court. And to charm the ladies I have taken a fancy to.” he winked. “Would you grant me the honour of your company, my lady? It has been naught but two days since my arrival, and I find that I am in need of a guide to this vast keep.” An amused smile graced your lips, as you thought about his offer. He might be a flirt, and awfully forward, but he seemed a jolly enough fellow, and it would be rude to reject his company. And…it would be a good distraction. 

“I am at your disposal, ser.” He gallantly offered you his arm, and you took it. As you strolled through the hallways of the Red Keep, passing servants shot you strange looks, but you ignored them. “So, what brings you to the Red Keep, ser?” “Ah, my lord father summoned me to court to attend the upcoming nuptials for Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor Velaryon.” Alan made a face that was so offended you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “He also thought it a good window of opportunity for me to find a lady wife.” 

“Oh,” was all you could say, your mind going back to your unpleasant conversation with Otto Hightower. Not wanting to seem impolite, you quickly added, “I wish you luck in your search, ser.” He smiled, although the joy did not reach his eyes. “Thank you, my lady. You are too kind.” 

 Ser Alan halted abruptly, startling you when you noticed you had stopped next to a flowering bush. Carefully, he plucked a gorgeous, striking yellow rose, moving to tuck it behind your ear. “A magnificent rose, befitting a charming lady as yourself, my lady.” You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his spontaneous show of chivalry. “I have to admit, ser, that you are the first man who has shown me this courtesy. I thank you most humbly.” 

“My father has always educated me about the importance of courtesy, especially to a lady.” Ser Alan shrugged, a sheepish grin painted on his features. “So long as it makes you happy, milady.” You strolled through the garden, chatting as he inquired about your life at court, which you happily indulged. Gradually, you forgot about Otto Hightower and Rhaenyra and Alicent as you conversed with him, too lost in trading anecdotes and playful jabs with each other about some rather insufferable personalities at court. You realised you found his company rather pleasing: he was attentive, and clearly a gentleman, but not to the extent where it was ridiculously cheesy. He wasn’t dreadful company either, he seemed sincere to get to know his talking companion, instead of endlessly bragging about himself or his long list of achievements. And behind his sweet words, he also hid a sharp sense of wit and humour. He was an ideal husband, the thought struck you like lightning. You could feel the cogs in your head begin to turn. You might have just found a way to escape Otto Hightower’s offer after all. 

“May I confess something, my lady?” Ser Alan’s voice interrupted your thoughts. “You may speak freely with me, ser.” you hesitated, before asking him, “Is it alright if I call you Alan, instead?” 

Ser Alan’s eyes widened, and you were a little afraid you had pushed your boundaries a little too far, but he soon broke out in a genuine smile. “If only I can call you Y/N in return, my lady.” You found yourself returning his smile with one of your own. “Then it is settled then. What were you going to say, Alan?” “To be honest, Y/N, I was extremely elated to run into you today.” Catching sight of your puzzled face, he hurriedly rushed to explain, “You see, I had sent a few marriage proposals to you before. Well at least my father has. I thought you quite brilliant despite my brief encounter with you at Highgarden. You radiate warmth, even at first glance, and I was rather drawn to you. Which was why I was so happy to have been able to have the fortune to bump into you here today. The Seven have truly blessed me.” 

“I see…” you murmured. “You are rather forward, aren’t you, Alan?” Alan looked unashamed of that. “I am a firm believer that being coy often robs us of opportunities in life, Y/N.” An amused smile twitched at your lips, “A bold philosophy, though certainly a wise one.” You took some deep breaths, debating on the gamble you were about to take. It was risky as hell. You barely knew anything about the man. It could end in disaster. But then again, your recent track record of decisions had led to bigger disasters than this. 

‘And do you truly believe that you would be able to find any other man of suitable standing to court you before your father’s deadline?‘

How life could change with just one decision. 

“Alan.” you began slowly, swallowing as you braced myself. 

“Yes, Y/N?”

“...does your marriage proposal still stand, by any chance?” 

Throughout your time at court, you had not been well acquainted with Lord Lyman Beesbury. A jolly enough man, and sharp of wit and tongue despite his old age was all that you knew of him. 

What you did not expect was how excited the man could be. 

“Oh, this is fantastic, wonderful news,” Lord Lyman exclaimed, grabbing your hands and shaking them vigorously. You looked over to Alan with a bewildered expression, and he simply smiled and mouthed, ‘He’s always like this. Don’t mind it.’ 

“To think my son would finally settle down, and to Lady Tyrell at that,” Lyman continued to ramble on, and you were a little worried that the old man might collapse from the joy. “A fine, fine choice you’ve made, son. A fine choice. I couldn’t be prouder…” 

You were mortified at how eager Lord Lyman seemed to be at the prospect of your marriage, but inside, you were secretly relieved. Otto Hightower had not sent word after news of your engagement with Ser Alan had disseminated through the castle, in no part thanks to the gossips who sniped at how the two of you barely had a courtship before your engagement. You had heard many whispers and murmurings of how desperate you must be to be driven to this point, but you didn’t care. You would take marrying Ser Alan any day over Otto Hightower.

No one was, of course, happier than Lord Matthos Tyrell at the word of his daughter’s engagement. From the way the reply to your letter had a few suspicious stains here and there, it seems a few tears had been shed. You could only muster a small smile at that, however. 

Alan had been the perfect gentleman over the past two weeks, showering you with gifts such as flowers or jewels - as fitting a suitor does to a lady - spending time with you, taking strolls with you, oftentimes visiting you while you were carrying out your duties as lady-in-waiting to Alicent and the like. Time after time, you would find Alicent’s gaze trailing across Alan doubtfully, like she was trying to scrutinise him for any signs of ill will, but you had reassured her in private that he was wonderful. But all she had to say was: 

“It is in human nature not to show who they truly are until later on, Y/N. I am just concerned.” 

Alicent’s words made you a little ill at ease, as you knew as much. You’ve heard so many horror stories over the years from ladies whose husband’s affections for them evaporated like morning dew upon their marriage after all, and seen enough examples. 

But you had made your gamble, and you must live with the consequences. No matter how dire they may be. 

The candles in the King’s private bed chambers and living space flickered as the doors opened with a loud creak, and you stepped in quietly. The room looked empty, and so you decided to walk around for a bit. 

And that’s when your heart nearly stopped. 

There she was. 

Rendered in vivid oils, the likeness of Aemma stared out at you with that gentle, comforting smile. Her visage encased within an intricately carved gold frame with dragons, and a makeshift shrine with candles decorated her portrait. Your heart was suddenly gripped with unbearable pain. 

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Viserys’ voice rang out from behind you, as he walked slowly to stand next to you, staring almost reverently up at her portrait. You couldn’t speak, your throat was closing up at the threat of tears that threatened to overwhelm and spill out from your eyes. You tilted your head down, unable to look anymore at that familiar, haunting smile. 

The press of a small white candle into your hand startled you. Viserys regarded you with a knowing sadness. “I thought you might like to honour her. We haven’t…done so in a while. Together as a family.” 

You nodded, not trusting your voice right now. Gingerly, you reached over and lit the candle, placing it on the shrine. You bowed your head, thinking of how much things have changed ever since her passing. How much you have had to change. 

“She would be so pleased to know that you were getting married,” Viserys lamented, gently touching oil-painting-Aemma’s hand. “From what I can recall, it had always been one of her greatest wishes to see you happily married.” 

You offered him a hollow smile at that. The joys of marriage had not yet made itself known to you, if you were even capable of it. And now, your head was too occupied with memories. 

“You’re in a terribly grumpy mood,” Aemma commented, as she reached for a roll of warm buttered bread to go with her third cup of tea. Her light blue eyes were filled with amusement as she watched you prop your head up from where you had lain it on the table, a disgruntled expression on your features. “Dare I inquire for the reason?” 

“Father has sent me another list of eligible bachelors,” you grumbled, helping Aemma refill her teacup, which she sighed exasperatedly at that. When it was just the two of you alone, she preferred for you not to serve her as lady-in-waiting, instead being more at ease and natural with her as her friend. But despite your attempts at overturning this habit, you found yourself unable to. Touch and small gestures were how you expressed your feelings after all. 

“From which kingdom is it for this time?” Aemma asked in a joking tone, putting a strawberry tart in her mouth as she stroked her small baby bump that had begun to show after four moons. 

“The Stormlands this time,” you sighed, dispiritedly popping a tart with an unknown yellow fruit in your mouth. The tangy sweetness, yet slight sourness of the fruit made you cheer up a little. 

“That’s a mango tart. Some merchants from the Summer Isles exported it to us,” Aemma explained, carefully noting your expression. 

“I wish I could live in the Summer Isles,” you sighed, popping another one of those tarts into your mouth. “And be done with all this bother. For Seven’s sake, I’m only twenty one. There’s still plenty of time.” 

“Yes, for you to develop wrinkles,” Aemma jested, letting out a laugh at your mortally offended face. “My queen, is it customary for you to insult your subjects in their time of distress?” You asked with faux hurt in your voice. 

“Perhaps I am a secret tyrant,” Aemma smirked slightly, lifting her teacup to her lips. “I am serious though, Y/N. You've been by my side as my lady-in-waiting for nearly two years, and we have known each other since we were children. You watched me get married to Viserys, be crowned as Queen, and giving birth to Rhaenyra. When will I get to witness some of your happy moments?” 

You gave her a deadpan look. “Aemma. I truly see no joy in getting married now. I’m still too young.” Aemma tried to hold in a sigh. “”And when will that be? Moons later? Years? A decade? When you’re old and grey?” 

“When I am ready, Aemma.” You stated, voice tinged with determination. “But when?” Aemma pressed. “Not to fear, I will definitely get married sometime during your lifetime,” you reassured her in a joking tone. “Perhaps when you’ve lived to seventy years…” 

Aemma threw the throw cushion she was holding in her lap at you, and you caught it, laughing, as Aemma shook her head in fond exasperation. “You’re insufferable.” 

Aemma looked at you, laughter dancing in your eyes as you changed the topic back to how you were going to answer your father’s newest letter. A wistful smile tugged at the corner of her lips. 

Do whatever you want, Y/N. I just hope that you will never sacrifice your happiness for the sake of something else. 

A small tear plopped to the weathered ground of the King’s chambers as you managed to choke out, “She would be. I just wish…she could be here to see it.” 

Viserys had a slightly guilty look on his face as you turned your gaze back to the portrait, confronting all the painful, bittersweet memories in all their blazing intensity. 

It was time to stop running. 

“When did you get this portrait commissioned?” The small semblance of a smile appeared on Viserys’ face again. “It is a story in itself, actually. Back when Aemma was…” Viserys’ voice hitched. “Pregnant…with Baelon, I had commissioned an artist from Volantis to paint it, as a gift to Aemma. Honouring her for giving us our-” Viserys choked up, his voice cracking. “For giving us our son.” 

Your fists clenched slightly. “And then when Aemma…I was so lost. I couldn’t bring myself to look at any portraits of her, so I stopped work on the painting.” Viserys looked like he wanted to pull portrait Aemma out of the frame she was trapped in, by sheer will of anguish. 

“But I had a change of heart. Three months after I named Rhaenyra as heir, I had moved on. I finally felt…peace. Like I have taken a step to atonement. So I gave word for the artist to continue, wanting to place it in the Gallery of Dragons after it was done.” The Gallery of Dragons was an art gallery in the Red Keep which honoured previous Targaryen rulers and royals who had passed. “But then he died when Alicent and I married.” 

“Oh dear,” you murmured softly under your breath, and Viserys let out a ragged laugh, before bursting into a fit of coughing. You moved to help him to a chair, but he held out a hand, his focus on Aemma. 

“I thought it a sign from the ancestors, from the Gods, that I should let go,” Viserys voiced out tiredly. “And so the painting remained untouched, and I thought I’d never see it to its finish. That the chapter would remain closed forever.” 

“Then when Helaena was born, the head royal artist decided to take on the job.” “Why?” You asked. You knew that the head royal artist, an old kindly man, had deeply revered Queen Aemma, for he was of the Vale and Aemma had brought him to court as part of her entourage, where he quickly rose up in the ranks. His previous occupation as a woodworker apparently served his artistic abilities well. 

“He was in his final days, and he wished for that to be the last painting he ever did.” Viserys smiled, his head drooping. “And I am glad he did.” 

Silence fell over the room as you two continued admiring the painting of your beloved Aemma. “Her eyes seem imbued with life, don’t you think?” You mentioned in a soft voice. “It’s like she is about to start talking any second now.” Viserys let out a hoarse sounding laugh, coughing again. This time it sounded more serious, but he waved away your concern all the same. “They are. The artists did a good job.” 

You were surprised when Viserys shuffled away to a chest on a table, rummaging through it before taking something out. It turned out to be some strange looking thin red sticks. 

“In Old Valyria, while there were many gods that people worshipped, the way they honoured their dead were the same,” Viserys explained quietly, handing you a stick, which you took, bewildered. “They would light it, then bow three times before the deceased’s portrait. It was said that a soul connection would then be forged between you and the person you were mourning, and you could convey a message to them.” 

“It sounds…” you tried to find the words to describe it. “...poetic.” 

“I thought so too. Shall we?” 

The two of you lit up the sticks, and a sweetly smoky smell emitted from them as they were lit. you followed Viserys’ lead, bowing your head three times, before closing your eyes. 

You hesitated on what to say, but eventually settled on, ‘I’m getting married, Aemma. I wish you were alive to witness it…but I know you would be delighted in the afterlife. I hope you are doing well.’ 

‘I hope you’ve seen how much I’ve grown. I hope you’re proud of me.’ 

“Are you happy, Y/N?” Viserys’ voice broke you out of your thoughts. For a moment, you look lost at what to respond. Were you happy? Though you didn’t feel the typical, dizzy excitement that the poets talked about when getting married, you felt something steady, something reassuring. Contentment. 

“I am.” 

“Truly?” Viserys’ pressing made you hesitate a little, but you pulled a smile on your face and answered. “I am. Really. Alan is a good man, and I am ready to begin a new chapter in my life.” 

Viserys finally began to relax, the tension visibly seeping out of his muscles. “Then I am most pleased for you. Though I never envisioned you to marry, and a selfish part of me wishes you would not have to leave this court, I am happy for you.” 

You bowed, a gesture of gratitude. “Thank you, Viserys. It means a lot to me.” 

His next words made you temporarily stunned into silence however. “Of course, I have also prepared your dowry. I have made sure that while it is lacking compared to Rhaenyra’s, that it is not to be underestimated. A ransom of jewels and gold as well as some antiques - Lord Beesbury does love his antiques. Some of those diamonds and sapphires are the finest I have ever seen.” 

Your mouth was agape. “Viserys, there is no need for you to-” Viserys talked over you, taking your hand. “But there is.” He looked at you with heartfelt gratitude and affection. “You are family to me, Y/N. It is the least I can do for you, for such a momentous occasion.” 

Your gaze softened as you began tearing up. “I cannot accept this. My father is already-” “I know, Y/N,” Viserys silenced you again. “But it’s not just for your dowry. Majority of the jewels and gold are for you.” 

You were now even more horrified and confused than before. “For me?” Viserys regarded you with a fond exasperation that almost made you weep at his similarity to Aemma’s. “For you, you silly goose. In the event…you are unhappy with your match, those jewels and gold should be sufficient for you to start a sizeable fund of your own. And of course, I will welcome you back to court with open arms at any time.” 

You couldn’t see past the blurry haze of tears and the painful throbbing of your heart, but the next thing you knew, Viserys was hugging you tightly back as you embraced him, choking with quiet sobs. He was crying himself a little too. “I only hope that you will be happy for the rest of your days, Y/N,” Viserys murmured, gently patting your back. Your body shook with violent sobs. “I…will. I promise. I thank you most gratefully for your generosity.” 

The two of you stayed like this for a while, before you awkwardly broke apart when the tears had stopped flowing. “The hour is quite late,” Viserys noted, feeling a little fatigued. You smiled weakly, still reeling from the shock. “That it is. I should be returning to my chambers then.” 

Viserys nodded, looking at you with fondness in his gaze. “Of course. You must still help me plan for Rhaenyra’s upcoming nuptials. And for your own. I would not want to impose on you any further.” 

You curtsied slightly, “Then I shall retire for the night then.” You hesitated, looking at Aemma’s portrait one last time, many thoughts running through your head. A final goodbye. “Good night, Viserys.” 

Viserys watched her leave, and the world suddenly seemed darker, much heavier. Like it had been since Aemma died. Coughs shook Viserys’ body, and he wearily took out a handkerchief to cover his mouth, careful not to let his spittle fly. A crimson stain slowly pooling at the white cloth was all he saw when he removed the handkerchief from his mouth. 

‘And now, I am alone once more.’ Viserys thought grimly, looking back at Aemma. ‘My last reminder of you is gone, and only Rhaenyra remains now. My strength, and my consolation. And my regret.’ 

Somewhere far away in Pentos, the squawks of a raven could be heard as first light broke across the city. Daemon Targaryen awoke, hair tousled and a disgruntled expression on his face, despite last night’s pleasures. He had dreamed of her. Again. It seemed she was a wraith plaguing his mind ever since that fateful day in Flea Bottom. 

His annoyance rose tenfold when he stalked up from his bed to receive the messenger raven. Unfolding the parchment, he took note of the familiar, rather wonky scrawl of someone who had only learnt to write recently. His eyes trailed over the words ‘the Hand has fallen from his high horse’, and he scoffed, smugness lining his features. The next two lines gave him pause, however.

‘The Princess has been betrothed to Ser Laenor.’ 

‘Lady Y/N Tyrell has been betrothed to Ser Alan Beesbury.’ 

‘From your loyal companion, Mysaria.’ 

Se Zaldrizoti' Prumia Taglist: @drwho-ess @graniairish @urmomsgirlfriend1 @thelittleswanao3 @animelover18 @llovinjoonie @gracielikegrapes @salembridger @itszzmoon @kmmg98 @travelingmypassion @zae5 @norestfortheshelbywicked @soleilgrec @anehkael @midnightprincess18 @lilith--666 @saay-karani @dumbhxeredrose @syviiss @nyenye @ahristata​ @hiraethrhapsody @babypink224221 @mckenziewhite2005 @justrybca @omgsuperstarg

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those who are bolded are those who couldn’t be tagged! let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist in the comments or through this form! 

A/N: One more chapter until the end of Act I!!! AAAHHHHHH. I deeply apologise for my repeated promises to publish only to chicken out at the end, so I shall now refrain from making promises that I cannot make 😭 I hope to get Chapter 10 out before 2024 officially hits (new year new me lol), but no promises there. I'll do my best, however!

As always, thank you for reading this far! Let me know what you thought about this chapter in the comments 💕

#aureliawrites #aurelia's fics #se zaldrizoti prumia #sezaldrizotiprumia masterlist #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon fanfiction #daemon prince #daemon x tyrell!reader #daemon x y/n #prince daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon x reader #daemon x oc #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targeryan #daemon targeryen x reader #hotd x reader #hotd x oc #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #daemon targaryen x tyrell!reader

[two-white-butterflies]

in the land of gods and monsters | daemon targaryen x tyrell!reader x king viserys

Description: She has been married to King Viserys for decades, but every night she ponders about the future that she and Daemon could've had.

She had ambitions for her father's house. Dreams that told her that her house would raise far beyond its limitations, and all of Westeros would regret the days when they scorned House Tyrell and whispered behind its back.

The lord of this realm held little respect for House Tyrell, a few decades ago — they were mere squires that rose to power because of Aegon The Conqueror. In their minds, House Tyrell was exactly like it's sigil — small and easily frightened. But roses had thorns, and that was exactly what Y/N was.

It was a surprise to everyone when King Viserys announced his engagement to Lady Y/N Tyrell, a lady whom no one knew about. She was beautiful — and everyone praised the King's keen eye. The Realm was wary of their new queen.

"Growing strong, that is my family's motto." she leaned down to her eldest son's level, inspecting the book that he was reading. Little Aegon did not hold any love for his mother's house, and she didn't care — because her son was a dragon, not a rose.

"And your father's motto is fire and blood." she added as she placed a hand on her second son's shoulders. "You are both dragons," she smiled as King Viserys enters the room.

She stands up and helps him sit down beside her. Lately, he's been weak and sickly — the cuts on his back have only grown deeper. She often worries about her husband and his health, especially since he still has Rhaenyra as his heir.

"Have you checked in with the maester?" she questioned dotingly while he nods, confirming her suspicions. "I am fine, Y/N." he tries to calm her down but she wasn't convinced. "You clearly aren't," she retorts placing a hand on her lap.

Viserys was reckless and mad. He worried little for his health and disregarded his children with Queen Y/N, often taking favor of his eldest child, Rhaenyra. She wondered if marrying him was the right choice.

"I am, tis' nothing but the season. I will be fine in no time," he comforts her again while she rolls her eyes and slumps down on the floor. There was no use arguing with him, he sees no reason and listens only to his daughter.

She gazes upon his face, and worried was etched into her features. He looks down and chuckles nervously. "It is truly nothing Y/N," he dismisses as she rests her head in his knees.

He doesn't love her — he sees her as someone who gets his through his darkest times. He sees her as a shoulder to rest his weary head on. He's cruel when it comes to love, but on days where he is hardly sane — she allows herself to feel normalcy and allows herself to pretend that there is love between the both of them.

"We cannot make it without you, Viserys." she whispers and he places a hand on her head. "What do you mean by that?" he asks and she gazes upon his eyes once more.

His purple orbs holding nothing but unfamiliarity and coldness. "Our position at court is not stable. I fear for our sons," she mutters as she stands up and looks at her sons.

Aegon and Baelon stare at her, and she offers the both of them a kind smile. "Might you both leave our chambers, and go for a walk?" she requests as Baelon nods and grabs his brother's hand. Walking out of the room quickly.

"Are you that adamant in making Aegon heir?" he questioned sharply as she pours herself a goblet of wine. Yes, she wishes nothing but to see her son become king — all her hard work would have been for nothing.

"Adamant? I merely tell you that our lives are in danger." she replied plainly and he chuckles bitterly. He didn't believe that his daughter had the power to kill her siblings, the motion that Y/N was planting are grounds for treason.

He stands up and takes a step towards her, his knees slightly faltering from the tiny pressure. She looks at him, and doesn't move an inch. This scene had played out a thousand times, and it always ended with one of them storming out of the room.

"Are you not content with your position? You were the fourth daughter of a weakened house. Have you no sense of indebtedness?" he exclaims as she takes a step back, feigning inferiority.

She looks away from him and places her attention on the wine in front of her. "I am forever in debt to you, but you cannot deny that I worry about our sons. The mere thought of their existence is a threat to Rhaenyra's throne." she argued as she turned her back towards him.

"You dare accuse my daughter of future murder! Tell me, who dares plant these seeds in your head and I shall ensure that they do not speak again." he demanded as she bit her lips.

She should've known that Viserys was stupid when it came to his daughter. That he sees her as the apple of her eye, and can do no wrong. "Everyone at court knows that our son should be King. In their hearts and in their heads, they know it. It is the proper way of things." she tried to convince him as he throws an object at her direction.

She flinches lightly, but regains her composure. "Leave! Get out of my sight!" he screams as her, and she looks back at him.

She looks down, and stares at the broken shards at the bottom of her clothed shoe. She looks at his face again, memorizing each wrinkle, each frown that littered on it. And vowed that she would get her revenge.

She turns towards the door and reaches for its metal handle. Pushing it, and walking away from the traitorous scene.

---

Daemon slumps down beside his good sister, a small smirk creeping unto his face. There had been a time where they were lovers, but that was before his brother stole the woman.

His heart beats for her still, but he'd never act on it. For his love for his brother, outweighs the whims of his own. "Another fight? Are you a warrior, Queen Tyrell? You fight a war every day." he joked as she stared blankly at the window in front of her.

Daemon was joyous that the woman who betrayed him lived a miserable life. "I am a woman my prince. My husband is my battlefield," she replied curtly as she takes a sip of the wine in front of her.

She found her peace in alcohol nowadays. Her husband, the incompetent fool had been too stupid to comfort her. "If I was your husband, my queen, I would've burned the battlefield before allowing tears to spill from your eyes." he jested as she reached for her eyes, not realizing that tears had been flowing from it.

She chuckles lightly, realizing the bitterness of the situation. In her quest for power, she had lost the one who would fight for her. She had lost her greatest love, only to lose everything in return.

"But you are not my husband, my prince." she answers as she turns to look at him. Viserys' eyes were filled with animosity, but Daemon's eyes held warmth in them. The kind of fire that didn't waver under questioning.

"Yes, you lost that chance long ago." he added and she looks away from him, fearing that if she looked too long — she'd drown.

She was a strong woman. She dealt with Daemon's rumors and whores for years, and now Viserys' plain blindness. Y/N Tyrell was the type of person who could let herself burn, and never deal with the pain. She was born for Kingslanding. She was born with ambition.

"If I only I hadn't," she blurted out, allowing the liquor to talk instead of her brain. "If we had married each other, then we'd spend the rest of our days in Highgarden. Not worrying about the whammies of your brother's court." she imagined plainly as she stared at the window once more.

He looks at her and she offers him a goblet. He takes it from her hand and pours himself a pint. "Then why did you choose my brother?" he questioned, his curiosity taking the best of him.

Others always called Daemon the most attractive brother. A part of him knew that without the crown, Lady Tyrell would have chosen him as groom.

She plays with the hems of her gown, and smiles. "I am the fourth daughter of a third son. There's nothing in this world for me. It didn't help with Alicent's teasing. Did you know that when we were young, my father would come to Oldtown and make me play with Lady Alicent? And I had to always be nice to her, because we were nobodies and she was the only daughter of a second-son." she ranted as she rested her head on his shoulders.

"Such funny thing, because now she serves me and I am Queen." she added with a long chuckle.

"But if I could go back, I would choose you and Highgarden" she finished as she stares into the abyss.

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x tyrell reader #daemon x reader #house tyrell #king viserys x reader #viserys targaryen x reader

[eratosmusings]

Loyalty (I)

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!reader

summary: the king decides it's time for his brother to produce more targaryen heirs. who better than another hightower daughter to carry them?

warnings: adults only, all characters over 18, dubcon smut in later chapters, arranged marriage, abortion allusion (moon tea), coercion, terrible parenting

word count: 2.3k

dividers

“I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow it?” Viserys asks with an air of frigid humor. “Who are you to deny your king what he has commanded?”

Otto seethes, decades of practiced court manners faltering under the demand. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but she is my daughter. I will not have her married off to a man whose love of violence and debauchery trails him like a shadow. She is a pious child. To marry her to Daemon is—“

“A blessing. She will marry a prince and a valiant knight.”

The other men at the table are silent. They'd expected talks of reinforcing the kingdom's claim on the Stepstones or of quelling rumors that had cropped up of Daemon corrupting his young niece in a brothel a year prior. The king commanding a marriage between Otto Hightower's youngest daughter—his only child from a tragically short second marriage—is an unpleasant surprise.

"He is already married."

Viserys gives a taut smile. "Daemon's marriage to Lady Royce has been annulled. By royal decree and with the blessing of the High Septon. It is in the best interest of Westeros that the Targaryen line remains vast and strong and it has been decided your daughter will do what Lady Royce did not."

Otto's face falls in disbelief. He's heard nothing of it. This had been set up to corner him. "She is a child."

"She is nearly four years older than Alicent was when we wed. The queen has proven your daughters are strong vessels for Targaryen children."

"It is different. She is different. She is not as strong as Alicent."

The king shakes his head. "I will hear no more discussion of this. She will wed Daemon and this feud between the two of you shall end once and for all.”

Alicent’s touch is feather-light as she takes hold of your hands. Her eyes wander across your form, taking in the exquisite ivory gown. Its crimson embroidered dragon along the skirt a special request from your soon-to-be husband. “You look beautiful, sister.”

You can say nothing to your half-sister, barely able to retain the tears brimming in silence. A fortnight was all you’d been given to prepare to wed the vilest creature in Westeros. Daemon Targaryen was all you could have ever hoped against in a husband.

Your father stands tall behind Alicent, head held high. "The image of the Maiden herself."

A choked sob escapes you at his words. This marriage was punishment by the Seven for every sin you'd ever committed. For the impure thoughts you'd had of knights. The white lies you'd spoken to save yourself the wrath of Septa Agerrea. The gambling you'd participated in when you’d bet your favorite embroidery needle in a game of cards with Lysa Tyrell. Had you only followed the Faith more faithfully, this torture would not be yours to endure.

“I believe it is time to take your place with the king, Your Grace,” your father says.

Alicent hesitates with glossy eyes. She draws you into a tight hug and whispers an apology and how much she loves you. You have the faintest memory of her wedding to the king a few years before. The happy sister who’d spent hours braiding your hair when the handmaidens failed to do it properly disappeared into a hardened queen round with child seemingly overnight. The smiles and giggles you’d shared daily turned to fond, distant memories. She withdraws a moment later, wiping at her face.

When the door shuts your father moves behind you. You watch in the ornate mirror as he drapes the green maidencloak of House Hightower across your shoulders. The new burden's weight feels uncomfortable.

He returns to stand before you, his expression sorrowful. "I am sorry, my sweet child, for this atrocity. You deserve far better.”

“I could have saved myself this fate had I been less worldly and become a Septa.” Your palm wipes at the tear that had fallen.

He cups your cheek. “Perhaps. But we cannot lament on what we could have done. Indeed we must focus instead on your duty to the realm.”

“To be a good wife,” you state. It was what he had raised you to be.

“No, sweet child,” he says softly, “I fear that I must ask something far more difficult of you. For your duty to the realm must supplant your duty in marriage.”

The wedding takes place in a haze. You tremble, stumble over words, and can not meet the eyes of your now husband nor the Septon. Soon you would betray them both.

For the good of the realm.

You do not eat or drink through the feast. You barely speak. You think you might have danced, though all you remember of it is a blurring background and an embroidered dragon that matches your own. It had stared at you accusingly.

“Shall I call for the bedding ceremony to begin, brother?” the king slurs loudly. If there had been anything in your stomach, it surely would have come out now. It was one vile thought to have him touch you. But to have other men undress you as well?

Your hand is pulled from your lap, enclosed in another twice its size, callous and rough against your skin. For the first time that day you look at your husband. You’d never seen him this close. The lavender gaze cannot have been of this world. It’s too vibrant, too knowing. “Too many of the men here have wandering hands. I’d hate to spill blood on such a blessed day.” His lips brush against your hand. “My sweet wife should not have to endure such tragedy.”

The king responds dismissively. Something of disappointing guests, but to do as he pleases. Daemon takes it as a dismissal and pulls you from your seat. The last thing you hear is the call from many about bloody sheets.

Perhaps the Mother has decided to take mercy on you. For you cannot breathe as the doors to the prince’s chambers close behind you. Death can take you before he can.

He stands in front of the fire, pouring some drink into a goblet. The flickering orange light suits him. Like he was born for flames. “You must relax. There is nothing for you to fear from me.” A lie. There was much to fear from him.

A booming knock echoes through the room.

“Enter.”

Two servants carrying trays of bread and fruit enter. Then they are gone just as swiftly. The door closes once more.

“You must eat,” he says, taking your hand once more and leading you to a small table. You sit and a piece of bread is offered. You take it and, after an expectant nod, take a bite. It’s still warm and soft. You take another bite. And another.

It’s gone quickly. Too quickly for a lady. A bowl of berries clatters softly in front of you. You pick at it slower, though not as slowly as you’d like. They are sweet. Perfectly ripe.

“Would you like some wine?”

Despite the juice of berries coating your tongue, your mouth is dry as you speak for the first time since you’d said your vows. “Yes, please.”

“So well mannered.” A smug smile spreads across his face as he raises his goblet and sips. He reaches over and sets it down beside the half-empty bowl. “I forgot to have them retrieve another cup.”

The crimson red liquid ripples. A challenge.

“You are very gracious, my Prince. Thank you.” You lift it by the stem and drink. It was stronger than you’ve ever had before. The taste takes you aback, coughing as it soaks your tongue. Hastily you set the cup back down.

"I take it you don't often indulge in Dornish Reds."

"No, never."

His head cocks to the side appraisingly. "I suppose such a thing has never been offered to you before. Not within the confines of your father's authority. He has given you a rather sheltered life."

A prickly heat seeps up your neck. "My father did not confine or shelter me. He has only ever guided me to live as virtuously as the Seven wished for all their children to live.”

“How very kind of him to not let you endure the same vices as himself.”

You blink, his words sinking in. The implication that your father is a drunkard stings. He isn't, but you don’t fight his accusation. Selfishly, you do not wish to defend your father. Instead, you pluck a berry from the bowl, hoping to end the conversation entirely.

"Are the berries quite good?"

You nod, not wanting to speak again.

"Might I have one?" When you go to pick up the bowl, he stops you. "Pick me out the best one."

The best one? The bowl is still half full. Which berry was the best? Would he be disappointed if you picked one he did not like? Or one that was not ripe enough? Not sweet enough? What would he do to you if he disliked the one you chose?

It was the largest blackberry that you finally settle on, prepared to hear how terrible the choice had been as you hold it out to him. He doesn't simply take it. He leans over the table, taking the berry and your fingers into his mouth.

The act is heinously intimate. It leaves you frozen and breathless as he pulls away, his eyes alight in devious amusement. "I'm not sure which taste I prefer. The berry's or your's."

Fire spreads across your cheeks. You flinch away, embarrassed. In the escape effort your arm knocks against the goblet. To your horror, it clatters against the table. The liquid sloshes across your front, staining the white gown.

The crimson seems to seep from your womb, condemning you for something you had yet to do. You paw at the stain as the chair clatters on the ground from the force with which you'd stood.

Tears brim in your eyes as it continues to spread.

“There's no need to fret. It is only wine.”

“I have desecrated it.” The tears have not stopped falling and your hands have not stopped scrubbing at it with your fingers. “The stain will never come out.”

“It is only a dress.” He cups your face, encouraging you to meet his gaze. It searches for some understanding.

He would never understand.

“I am so sorry, my Prince.”

He shushes you softly and places a kiss against your forehead. This was the monster? The vile, unholy beast whose every action was an affront to the Seven? This man who had shown you nothing but kindness?

You cry harder.

He is not the monster.

You are.

You aren’t sure how long you cry. But he holds you through it all. He speaks little more than a few consoling phrases, but it is more than you deserve. His presence, arms around you, kisses on your hair. All of it more than you deserve.

You’re finally calm, only left with sniffles, when he says, “We should get the dress to the washwomen before the stain sets.” What good would it do? The stain can never be removed from your soul. Still you agree and turn for him.

His fingers are swift as they loosen the strings of your bodice. Practiced. He is practiced. Behind closed doors you assume, but there were numerous tales of his public debauchery. It has been gossiped that he prefers the thrill of open affairs and touches of multiple women.

“Why did you refuse the bedding ceremony?”

He pauses. “Did you wish to have one?”

“No,” you say quickly. “But given your…tendencies I…I thought…” A quiet hum has your words trailing off.

His work continues, though slower. “You are not a whore in a brothel.”

“Neither is your niece and yet...”

Air blows across your neck as he chuckles. “Has my pious little wife been gossiping about the chastity of the Crowned Princess?”

Your lungs seize at the realization of what you’d just said. It’s treason. Questioning her virtue is treason.

“Relax, jaesa.” His hands slip between the shoulders of your shift and the loose gown, pushing the sleeves down your arms. “I took you under my protection today. You may speak freely to me.”

“I,” you hesitate, freeing your hands of the garment, “I had heard that a year ago you snuck the princess from the castle and—“

He bunches the fabric at your waist and tugs. “Had my way with her in some brothel?”

“Yes.”

The gown struggles for a moment, snagging on the curve of your behind. Another tug and it is a pile around your feet. “My niece wished to see King’s Landing. I showed her and returned her to the castle, still a fair maiden like yourself.”

“Of course.”

“You doubt me?”

“No, my Prince.”

"It would do a great disservice to our union to begin it with lies." He prompts you to turn and hesitantly you do. He is shorter than your father, yet his presence is as commanding. More so. It makes you aware of how thin the fabrics of your shifts were when his gaze drifts down. "My niece's heart belongs elsewhere. As do my desires."

His touch is gentle as he cups your cheek, but the feeling's it stirred are rough and uncertain. Bordering on traitorous.

“Shall I call a servant to fetch the dress?” The words waver. You wonder if they’re comprehensible at all.

They are, it seems as he rejects the offer and slips out the door himself with the dress. The reprieve from his watchful, astute eye is welcome. You fall to your knees at the edge of the bed and recite the prayer your father had taught you minutes before you’d been led down the aisle.

Warrior, give me strength for what I must do. It is for the good of the realm.

Mother, forgive me for what I must do. It is for the good of your faithful servants.

Stranger, lead my children to peace. It is for the good of their innocent souls.

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[gulnarsultan]

Lady Targeryen ( previous surname Tyrell )

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[misguidedasgardian]

Storm's End (End I)

HOTD MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Strong!Reader

Summary: your mother sends you to Storm’s End to rally Lord Borros Baratheon for your side, but your uncle arrived there before you

Warnings: Cursing, use of the word bastard, angst, heavy, canon level incest, mentions of bedding, and more, dark fic, Aemond is unhinged, rape, non-con, minors engaging in sexual activities, talks about abortion, violence, and other very dark things. 

+18 MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4.1 k

Notes: Here it is! one of the two possible endings! hehe THIS IS THE HAPPY ONE the dark OG one is coming in the next days...

Today was the summit

Aemond thought bitterly, as he woke up and you were not there by his side, he looked towards the window and there you were, sitting there, looking at the ocean through the bars he had installed. 

You tended to do that a lot

You barely spoke, you barely moved, you barely eat

And it was not going to improve, no matter how… soft… he had became with you

“Good morning”, he said raising from his bed and walking to you, your eyes looked like the ones of someone who was no longer there, no longer living 

You didn’t answer 

“Today will be the negotiation for your release”, he said, and that is when, for a second, he saw relief

That settles it then

“I’ll send a maester in, to check you”

If you were with child

You said nothing, you waited until the old man returned

“My lady, if you will”, he asked, signaling to the bed

What you didn’t know, is that regardless of what he found, by order of the Dowager Queen… he was supposed to say only one thing

“She is not with child your grace”, he said to the Prince

The sadness in Aemond’s eyes was priceless to watch, but not the anger that came after

To no surprise, he fucked you roughly

One last time

The summoning of the two fighting monarchs and the all the great lords of the seven Kingdoms took two full moons 

Harrenhall was the chosen place for the meeting, in open air, no hiding, no tricks, no nothing

Finally they met, face to face, Rhaenyra and Aegon

“Give me back my daughter”, demanded Rhaenyra, it was the first thing she said, Aemond stood there by his brother unmoving, only a smirk on his face as he saw Luke almost hiding behind Daemon

“How ungrateful sister”, muttered Aegon, amused, “my brother saved your daughter from the wild waters of Shipwreck bay”, Borros had the audacity to laugh at that

“And we saved your cunt of a grandfather from messing with the triarchy, you should thank us, they are not to be trusted”, said Daemon, Aegon giggled childishly

“Very well uncle, so let’s solve this, we have something you want, and you have something that… well, is in our best interest to recuperate”, alicent twisted and turned in her place

Rhaenyra frowned

She wanted her daughter back more than they wanted Otto

All the Lords, the most important men and women of the realm where there 

Lannister, Tyrell, HIghtower, Tully, Arryn, Stark, Baratheon.

“We could plunge this Kingdom into war, or we can solve this as adults”, said Rhaenyra

“I agree”, said Aegon, “I’m the male heir, the crown is mine, as simple as that”

“My father, the late King proclaimed me heir, and all these Lord swore allegiance to me”, Alicent, with a deep scowl, shook her head

“To my side, all the lords that will follow my father's King Viserys wish, and proclaim me Queen”, Rhaenyra demanded, Aegon laughed, but stopped as soon as Tyrell, Tully, Arryn, and Stark walked to her side 

“The Reach will side with King Aegon”, proclaimed Lord HIghtower

“I’m sorry my Lord Hightower, but you do not rule the Reach”, Lady Tyrell proclaimed, “I do, in the name of my son”, she said firmly, “And we will side with the rightful heir, Queen Rhaenyra”

“Dorne will not dance with dragons”, said another, but still, Rhaenyra had 4 of the Seven Kingdoms, and the majority of the Crownlands 

“Before we start the negotiations, I want to see my daughter”, she demanded, “and I’ll let you see your father, Alicent”, she spoke, looking directly at her childhood friend 

“We will exchange hostages at the end of this summit”, said Aegon. Rhaenyra looked to her side, where Cregan Stark looked at them angrily

She had offered her daughter’s hand in marriage to the wolf, and he had said yes, he didn’t deter when she told him that she had been taken hostage… she knew Jace had spoken to him, but he still didn’t deter from his determination

Rhanyra kept stealing glances at his half brother Aemond, he wore a smirk on his lips and changes the weight on his feet, his hands grasped behind his back, standing at the right side of Aegon

This was going to be long… 

It was three days of negotiations

Three full days until they could reach the next conclusion

Aegon was going to rule from the capital those Kingdoms that wanted to serve him, even though that led to confusion amongst the Reach, and the Crownlands, who were divided 

The hostages were going to be exchanged

Much to Aemond’s disagreement 

But he said nothing

He himself brought you forwards

He had selected for you to wear a low cut green dress, to humiliate you, to show the most important lords and ladies of the realm the marks he had left on you, hands around your neck, bites in your collarbones, bruises. Rhaenyra whimpered when she saw you, hiding her horrified expression with a hand in her mouth

“Don’t you have a proposition to make to our sister, Aemond?”, asked Aegon mockingly, “to marry our lovely niece?”

The brothers had discussed surrendering the life of his grandfather, in exchange of you marrying Aemond, but he had decided against it

No matter how much he desired you, to have you by his side, he could not accept to go back on his word and marry you

“A bastard is not worthy of marrying a Prince”, he said out loud, shaking you still in his grasp until he made you whine in protest, “And I will not marry spoiled goods”, he continued with a sick smile.

His words stang, and you felt ashamed and embarrassed, your mother was there, right in front of you, and yet, you didn’t even dare to raise your head to look at her, you had been weak and you let her down, you let Aemond defile you, you put her in jeopardy.

Aemond at the same time, looked around and he did not see looks of approval or sarcasm, he saw looks of disgust… Directed at him

Directly at him

Not at you

At him

He was just like his brother

Both Green brothers, rapists, defiling women who did nothing wrong… raping them. He even looked at the eyes of their allies, the Lannsiter and Baratheon and not even them were looking back at him

He release you then, you stumbled forwards and your mother, not caring what other might think, she rushed to enemy lines to catch you in her loving arms, she hugged you tightly against her chest

“I’m here!”, she cried into your ear as she kissed your hair, “my sweet sweet girl, I’m here”, then you hugged her back

“Mama”, you whispered, not believing that she was real, that you were safe now, her characteristic smell, her voice, her hair, the shape of her arms and chest… it was her, you were safe

“My girl”, she repeated, “you are safe now, I got you”, she draw you back to her side, where Daemon and Luke received you with relieved faces, and tight hugs

They in turn, released Otto

Alicent was horrified when she saw the emaciated look on his face, his hair and gotten white, and he couldn’t even mutter a word

The brothers didn’t care enough to do or say something

They had taken your maidenhead

And Rhaenyra took his tongue

A fair exchange they believed

You didn't care for anyone but your mother, father and siblings, who doted on you all the journey back to Dragonstone, all of them, except from Jace

You didn’t know why, but he could barely look at you, and after he expressed his relief that you were alright and safe, he chose to stay far from your sight

It pained you, but you didn't push it 

You were home

You actually cried when you saw the castle in the horizon

And you did what you could best to not think of Aemond

He had fucked you that last time and then he took you to the summit himself on his dragon, he never spoke a word to you again.

And the maester had said you were not with child, so, why did you felt so terrible? your breasts were tender and you wanted to throw up

At first you thought it was because of how nervous you were

But when you were safe, on firm land, in Dragonstone… And the nausea didn’t leave you

You didn’t tell your mother, yet, she called a maester into your rooms, to check on you either way…

Turns out… the maester from King’s Landing was wrong… you were indeed with child

You said nothing, you didn't spoke much either way, but Rhaenyra sat by your side on the bed and hold you, caressed your hair, and whispered words of encouragement

“Everything is going to be alright my sweet girl, don't you worry”, she assured you, as she rose from the bed to talk to Maester Munkun

“She is too far along your grace, almost three moons, any attempts against the child in the princess’ belly could have dire consequences on her”, you heard him say

“Are you sure?”, you asked softly, the Maester, who should be offended, only smiled softly at you

“I never miss pregnancies your grace”, he said softly

Why didn’t the Maester of King’s Landing miss it? Perhaps he did on purpose 

For Aemond to let you go…

The maester left after giving your mother some instructions, and she looked at you, trying to analyze the calm expression on your face

“Darling… are you alright?”, she asked softly, you only nodded

“The maester in King's Landing lied mom”, you said softly, “he said that i’m not with child, I gather he said so, so Aemond would let me go”, you explained

“Much likely, yes”, she said softly, she returned to your side, sitting by your side on the bed, “my darling, I will find someone you will marry, it is imperative..”

“I don’t want to get married”, you whined looking back at her, she tried to smile, but the concern in her face…

“My love, your child… if you don’t marry…”, you placed your hand on your lower belly

“But you are Queen”, you said softly, “you can have him or her legitimized”, she smiled softly

“Yes I can, and I will do that, if that is what you desire”, she said, her uneasy gaze on you at all times

“I do not think I can handle a man… touching me… yet”, you explained, and she nodded quickly, she grabbed your hands, you did not reject her touch, you could never, if anything, made you feel better, it grounded you, soothed you

She was concerned for you, you could tell, but you still didn’t know what to say

“I need to know you are alright with this”, she said softly

“I am”, you said softly

You were just glad to be home, you were just glad that since you were with your family, you didn’t have nightmares, and if you didn’t look into the mirror… you were fine because the bruises and pain Aemond has caused you was diminishing by day…

And the child, well, you supposed you were accustomed to the idea since the first time he had you, it is what happened, and even though a week ago that maester had said you were not with child, in the bottom of your heart, you didn’t believe him anyways. 

And your calmness seemed to unnerve your mother

“I’ll leave, if you need anything”

“I’m fine mama”, you said, smiling encouragingly, she barely nodded, and left you

She left you, it was a beautiful day when you looked out the window and you decided you were going to read by it, a book of legends about love and knights….

But Luke entered your room after a few hours

“Aemond showed me the letter you send him”, you said smiling widely, you rose from your seat and embraced your brother, he hugged you back, “You tried to recuperate me, my brave little brother”

“It wasn’t enough”, he lamented

“Yes it was”, you said gently, you released him, and he smiled at you

“I thought you’d like some company”

Since you arrived a couple of days ago, you didn't want to leave your rooms

“You thought right”, you smiled, and you both both sat at the wooden table in the corner of the room

“I heard mother say… are you with child?”, he asked softly, you nodded

“Yes I am” 

“Does he… know?”, you shook your head

“And we have to keep it that way Luke”, you said back, “He can’t know”

“I think is safe to say, you are safe here, the greens have no friends amongst us”, he said, and you nodded

“How is Jace?”, you asked, he frowned

“He is… sorry he hasn't been here to see you”

“No he is not”, you said

“He is angry”, he assumed, “very angry, and he doesn't know who to be angry with… “

“He has always been a bit hot headed”, you said gently, “the blood of the dragon and all”. You missed your brother

“He is angry at the situation, not at you”, he said softly

Lucerys left you when the sun hid in the horizon…. and at night, Jace has decided to pay you a visit, as you thought, he was angry… very angry

“Is it true?”, he asked, you only looked at him from your bed, “you are pregnant with his bastard?” he asked then, you whimpered, the manner he spoke to you… so angrily, reminded you of Aemond

“Yes Jace…”, you said softly and he growled, frustrated

“How could you…?”

“There is nothing we can do”, you explained softly

“Why are you so calm? about everything? he raped you! tortured you”

“Yes he did jace”

“He ruined your life”

“I know”, you said softly

“Do you know what we had to do to prevent Daemon from burning King’s Landing to the ground? he took all his anger and rage on…”

“Otto Hightower I gather”, you muttered

“WHY ARE YOU SO FUCKING CALM?!”, Lucerys was right he was not angry at you, he was angry at the situation, he was as you should be

“There is nothing we can do, its done, Jace, I’m here with you, I’m safe again, its over”, you said, and he finally calmed himself down, looking at you wide eyed

And then… he exploded

He cried, your older brother, eighteen year old, cried right then and there in front of you, wept, as he fell by your side and hugged you tightly

“I was so scared”, he whined, and you could only caress his dark hairs and shush him, “that he was going to… kill you…”

“We cannot hold this hate in our hearts Jace, look at what it did to him”, you whispered, “we have to forgive and forget or else, it going to eat us alive”

. . .

Moons passed

Five more, to be exact, and your belly had grown, as much as your excitement.

At first, you were scared, very scared, frightened, but everything changed once you started feeling him or her, moving inside of you, kicking you softly, you started feeling curious about your child, who was going to look like

You really hoped it was a girl, so she could keep you company, but at the same time, you stated feeling scared if she was a girl

The world hurt little girls

It was better if he was a boy, but if he was… he was going to be teased for being a bastard, mistreated even… 

You were conflicted

What you did know though, is that it was going to be so so loved, his uncles and aunties, Rhaena and Baela, your mother, Viserys and Aegon, Dameon, were going to love him or her, so so much

You mother was going to declare her or him legitimate, she was going to be a Targaryen, that is all that mattered

Luke wouldn’t part your side and consequently, neither did Rhaena, they were your rock

Your mother as well, but she couldn’t help but look sadly at you

And Daemon? as Jace, he found trouble having his own peace, at some point, he even blamed himself for not burning the Greens sooner.

But you had made your piece

When you were finishing your 8th moon, Cregan Stark came to Dragonstone

You were greatly surprised when on his second day, he asked for an audience with you

You sat in the great hall nervously, you were to have chaperones, Luke and Jace, but still, you got so nervous when the imposing man entered the hall at Jace’s side

“There she is”, said Jace with a nervous smile

“Here I am”, you said, you didn’t dare to stand, the table hiding your belly

“Your grace, your beauty is greater than the songs they sing”, he said, he was handsome, young, tall and broad, pitch black hair, and piercing gray eyes, his fur cape only help to enlarge his figure

“You are too kind”, you said softly

He looked at your brother strangely, they got the hint, and they walked away, directing their attention elsewhere

“I wanted an audience with you because, when prince Jacaerys flied North to seek my alliance, in said alliance, there was a promise for your hand”

“Yes my Lord, I’m aware”, you muttered, he was there at the summit, he had witnessed and saw what Aemond did to you, everyone knew and was witness to it

“I expressed your mother the Queen of my desires to continued said alliance”, he said firmly, but with a gentle smile

He wanted to marry you

“My lord…”, you started

“I know many things have happened in between, but my desire hasn't diminished… I…” you stood up from the table, revealing your pregnant belly to him, he got quiet all of a sudden

“I’m very sorry my lord, it would have been the joy of my life, but.. as you can see, I am not the maiden my brother promised almost a year ago I… I’m afraid I’m spoiled now… I’m expecting a child…”, Jace turn to look at you, white as paper

Cregan was not surprised, he looked like he expected it

“That is fine, your grace, because… I also have a child, my heir, a sweet boy of four name days, Rickon… if I may be so forward, he needs a sweet, good mother figure, and your child will need, in turn…”, you smiled

“I’m spoiled goods My Lord”, you said smiling sadly, he went forwards, his closeness didn’t scared you, he took the liberty of grabbing your hand

“You are not goods, my lovely, you are a princess, and I’m going to love and care for your child, as I’m sure you are going to love and care for mine”, he said, with such conviction in his eyes, “someday we might even… have some children of our own, only if you so please to”

“What are the Lords and Ladies of the North going to say?”, you asked then

“I’ve been away from my home long enough so nobody will ask many questions”, he said gently

“May I have a couple of days to think about it?”, you asked, smiling at him, he smiled 

“Of course”, he leaned in and kissed your hand 

it was a tough decision, not like you had too much to think about

You were lucky, terribly Lucky that the third most powerful man in the Kingdoms wanted to marry YOU, pregnant and all, but on the other side, the thought of leaving your home broke your heart

You wanted to be home, with your mother and father, and siblings

You knew you could be happy here 

Aemond had married a Baratheon, not that you cared, he had been exiled to the Storm’s End, you knew because Daemon had mocked in at dinner

Thanks to Mysaria you had ears and eyes all over the Kingdoms

You wondered if they had to

If they knew you were expecting his child

You wondered what would happen when he finds out because, he said clearly he was not going to let you go

But you didn't care, you were safe

Whatever you chose, you were going to be fine

Cregan soothed you, and he had express that you had until the baby was born to make a decision

So you spend the last moon of your pregnancy in company of your family 

. . .

“Push, my sweet girl”, cried your mother, kissing your sweaty temple

“AARRRGGHHHHH!”, a scream ripped your throat as you did, with all strength, pushed as hard as you could

“I can see the head sweet princess, just one more”, said the Midwife sweetly

“AHHH FUCK CUNT BITCH!”, you cursed all the words in the books, you swore you could hear Daemon laugh at the other side of the door

And then, a feeling of relief, the midwives cheered and then

The cry of your child

“It’s a boy, your grace! kicking like a horse, strong like one too”, your mother laughed, relieved, and so did you 

It was short minutes and then they placed your clean baby in your awaiting arms

He was so small, tiny, with silver hair and red face, he was crying loudly, a good set of lungs in him

“My son”, you said triumphantly 

It was some hours later, after they cleaned you and ready you, that your mother allowed people to come and see you, Lucerys was the first one inside 

You passed your sleeping son into his arms

“He is so small!”, he said with a wide smile, “what’s his name?”, he asked

“Aerion”, you answered with a wide smile

your entire family entered the room to gaze at your son, over Luke’s shoulder

“He’s got my nose”, said Daemon, all of them laughed, including you 

“But he has my eyes”, said Rhaenyra

“the blood of the Dragon runs thick on him”

Even Corlys and Rhaenys entered the room to see your baby

“He's just gorgeous!”, cooed Rhaenys, taking him in her arms and cradling him against her chest, “you are going to be a real dragon rider, aren’t you? you are going to claim Vermithor! or Silverwing” 

“I want him to take the Velaryon name”, said Corlys, “like you, my sweet girl”, you smiled, your eyes filled with tears

“Really?”, you cried

“Of course”

Despite everything, and even though you had been through hell… You know you were going to be alright 

You had your family, you had your son who you needed to be strong for 

You were safe

You were fine

It took you five moons to realize it, to sleep through the night, not to wake, alarmed, thinking he was going to enter your rooms to choke you and rape you

That you were fine 

That you were never going not see him again

That he was never going to see YOUR son

With Cregan…

You accepted to Marry Cregan, you married in a Valyrian ceremony after you recuperated form giving birth, and when you reached Winterfell,  you married there again, in the Godswood

He gave you space, and won your trust a little step at a time, no even a year in, an you shared your chambers and your bed with him, he had been so incredible patient, you fell in love with him, as with his son, who accepted you as his mother

Cregan took your son in, a dragon hatched in his crib, to everyone’s surprise 

After two years, to gave birth to a little girl, with dark hair and lilac eyes, and a year later a set of twin boys

You never saw Aemond again, he never saw your son, you didn't even knew if he knew about his existence

But he knew, he knew and he spend the rest of his life tortured

He married Floris Baratheon but it was an unhappy marriage, he didn’t manage to give her children, and she hated him for it

He of course blamed her 

He never forgot about you 

In Dragonstone...

You decided to stay home with your child, to be raised with his baby dragon in Dragonstone, he grew up loved and cared for, by all your family

Jace married Baela, Luke married Rhaena, and you were there to see it

Eventually, when Aerion was three, you fell in love with the second son of House Celtigar, who had come to court to serve your mother, you married, and lived happily in Dragonstone with him… 

Aemond never saw your child or you again, but he demanded Larys for information every day, for the rest of his life, he could only hear how your son was great with the sword, smart and cunning, a great dragon rider, a perfect prince, without him. 

THE END 

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@lightdragonrayne @immyowndefender @aemondswifeisme @twobluejeans @toodlesxcuddles @sassysaxsolo @thearchitectoflove @maidmerrymint @floralsightings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @glendarollitkatharinesanders @ruhjkie @starkjedi @baconturtle @aleemendoza2425-blog @ahristata @dlwlrmas-world @yentroucnagol @hiraethrhapsody @alwaysholymilkshake @marihoneywk @belladonna00 @strangersunghoon @anehkael @t0uch-starved-h0e @hkmultifandom @letmehavemyfictionalmen @belcalis9503 @daddydaemonswife @daemontargaryenwhore @bash1018 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @ninastyless @strangersunghoon @bellstwd @yoshiplush 

#misguidedstorm #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hbo house of the dragon

[howyouloveyourdragon]

dividers by hitobaby

ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha!rhaenyra claims sister ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha!rhaenyra claims sister part 2 ﾟ☁︎｡ Yandere alpha!rhaenyra x omega half-sister betrothal ﾟ☁︎｡ Yandere Rhaenyra takes half-sister from greens power play* ﾟ☁︎｡ Yandere Rhaenyra punishes omega reader after lords flirt with her* ﾟ☁︎｡ Alpha!rhaenyra x soft shy omega!sister x alpha!daemon* ﾟ☁︎｡ Yandere Rhaenyra x Lady-in-waiting ﾟ☁︎｡ Yandere Rhaenyra takes half-sister from greens* ﾟ☁︎｡ Yandere Rhaenyra x female dragonseed* ﾟ☁︎｡ Yandere Rhaenyra x female dragonseed* part 2 ﾟ☁︎｡ Yandere Daemon joins Rhaenyra x half-sister ﾟ☁︎｡ Dragonseed reader saves Rhaenyra from execution & Aegon the young ﾟ☁︎｡ Yandere Rhaenyra x Valyrian sorceress reader* ﾟ☁︎｡ Alpha Rhaenyra and omega Aegon headcanons

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ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega sister with child together fluffy ﾟ☁︎｡ rhaenyra and laenor x aemond (platonic) headcanons ﾟ☁︎｡ rhaenyra and laenor parenting her siblings ﾟ☁︎｡ headcanons of alpha rhaenyra x omega half sister parenting their kids ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega aegon x alpha daemon (romance) ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere rhaenyra x aegon (romantic) headcanons ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega alicent x omega leana headcanons ﾟ☁︎｡ daemon & rhaenyra x fem!reader in charge ﾟ☁︎｡ rhaenyra targaryen x dragonseed!reader claiming her dragon for the first time ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere rhaenyra x yandere daemon x half sister (blacks win au) ﾟ☁︎｡ rhaenyra targaryen x velaryon male!reader ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere rhaenyra x daemons bastard daughter (platonic) ﾟ☁︎｡ rhaenyra x royce-targ!reader ﾟ☁︎｡ headcanons of alpha rhaenyra x omega half sister parenting their kids ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega alicent x omega laena headcanons ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega aegon x alpha daemon (romance) ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere rhaenyra x aegon (romantic) headcanons ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere rhaenyra x son cole!reader x yandere laenor headcanons ﾟ☁︎｡ rhaenyra x twin!reader soulmate au ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere rhaenyra and velaryon!son with laenor headcanons ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere rhaenyra x helaena ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere rhaenyra x handmaiden ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere rhaenyra x female dragonkeeper headcanons ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere mom rhaenyra x orphan reader headcanons ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega velaryion reader headcanons ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega hightower reader headcanons ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega daenerys headcanons ﾟ☁︎｡ rhaenyra x omega!hightower alt ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega!sister part 2 ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega velaryon reader headcanons  ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega hightower reader headcanons  ﾟ☁︎｡ politically smart hightower x rhaenyra (part 2)  ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega male velaryon!reader  ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x tyrell omega reader  ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega alicent (arranged marriage)  ﾟ☁︎｡alpha rhaenyra x omega alicent x alpha daemon headcanons  ﾟ☁︎｡yandere rhaenyra and haelena (platonic) headcanons

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ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega alicent x omega leana headcanons  ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega alicent (arranged marriage)  ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega alicent x alpha daemon headcanons  ﾟ☁︎｡ rhaenyra x alicent open marriage w/ laenor headcanons  ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere alpha rhaenyra x omega alicent headcanons  ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere rhaenyra x alicent (blacks win au) ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x alpha laena x omega alicent headcanons

ﾟ☁︎｡No Rest For The Dragons ﾟ☁︎｡The Softest Love

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ﾟ☁︎｡ jacaerys overstim smut, 'Too Much, Too Little' ﾟ☁︎｡ baela & jacaerys x reader ﾟ☁︎｡ helaena x jace headcanons  ﾟ☁︎｡ jace x reader confession prompt 11 ﾟ☁︎｡ jace x reader prompt 30 ﾟ☁︎｡ jace x reader flustered prompts

ﾟ☁︎｡ Alpha Rhaenyra and omega Aegon platonic headcanons

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ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega aegon x alpha daemon (romance)  ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere rhaenyra x aegon (romantic) headcanons

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ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere rhaenyra x helaena  ﾟ☁︎｡ helaena x jace headcanons  ﾟ☁︎｡ helaena has peace for herself

ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha!rhaenyra x soft shy omega!sister x alpha!daemon* ﾟ☁︎｡ Yandere Daemon joins Rhaenyra x half-sister

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ﾟ☁︎｡ daemon x fem!reader steamy bath smut ﾟ☁︎｡ daemon & rhaenyra x fem!reader in charge ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega aegon x alpha daemon (romance)  ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega aegon x alpha daemon (romance)  ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere rhaenyra x yandere daemon x half sister (blacks win au) ﾟ☁︎｡ yandere rhaenyra x daemons bastard daughter (platonic)  ﾟ☁︎｡ daemon x reader comfort  ﾟ☁︎｡ daemon x hightower fem!reader ﾟ☁︎｡ alpha rhaenyra x omega alicent x alpha daemon headcanons

#requests #hotd requests #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aegon ii x reader #daemon targaryen x reader