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k4marina · 7 days

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— ii. Dragon Rider || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: a new routine in a new world

warnings: idek lol. unedited and not properly read (i kept falling asleep lmao)

series masterlist

~ 2.5k word count.

game of thrones x modern!fem!reader

[gif found on pinterest]

Never in my life have I regretted anything more than I did now.

“Me and my big fucking mouth,” I grunted, getting up from the ground and dusting my leather pants. Gray Worm looks at me with a slightly amused expression. Of course he would, he just dropped me onto my ass for the fifth time today.

It had been almost two weeks after the Small Council meeting. There had been a few more since then, but no major topics were discussed, other than Varys begrudgingly backing what I had said about Cersie having scorpions when asked if his little birds had any news. The new armor and weapons for the Unsullied are also being made. After a few talks with Daenerys, Gray Worm, a few Unsullied commanders, and I, the new armor design was decided on. Surprisingly the Unsullied were very artistic people and had great ideas.

And, within the past two weeks, I’ve been tortured everyday, my limbs aching all the time, threatening to fall off. Everyday, I’ve been woken up at four in the morning for my sword lessons with Gray Worm for five hours a day. When I said I wanted to learn, I didn’t mean I wanted to train to be the world's best swordsman of all time.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I say towards him, wiping away the sweat on my face.

“I have no idea to what you are referring to, My Lady.” Gray Worm says, feigning innocence.

“You can’t call me ‘My Lady’ and then drop me on my ass for the fifth time.” I pointed out.

Gray Worm smiled and got into a fighting stance and I mirrored. “Your defense has gotten better; however, your strength and stamina is lacking.”

He gave the signal and charged towards me, going to swing towards my left. I sidestepped and blocked the hit with my sword before knocking it back. This time, I went for the attack, but Gray Worm expertly blocked me and knocked the sword out of my hand. The sword clattered against the stone ground, landing a few feet away from me.

“Maybe it’s best we stop for today.” He says, picking up the sword and placing it back onto the rack. I let out a sigh of relief and walked over to the inches, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat away from my face and neck.

“Be honest,” I said, turning towards him. “Am I a lost cause?”

He snorts out a laugh and shakes his head. “Apologies, My Lady.” Once he’d composed himself he answered, “No, I do not believe you are a ‘lost cause’. It may seem difficult now, but it will get easier later on.”

“Wow, wise words,” I said sarcastically, taking a swig of water from the canteen. “They should call you ‘Gray Worm the Wise’.”

“I’m pleased that you think I am someone with wisdom.” He says, giving a small bow, making me chuckle.

After the lessons, I took a bath in my room, this time with the help of the servants. The first few days I would have them leave so I could bathe myself, but I guess over the days it just naturally happened. Once bathed and dressed in a white dress with gold embroidery and pearl beads before I made my way to the hall to have breakfast with Daenerys.

Not only was it a good way for us to get to know one another (mainly her learning about me) as well as discussing future events and how we would maneuver through it. However, not all of it. I had made the decision to not tell her about Jon Snow or the White Walkers, I think that’s something she should organically go through. All she knows about Jon is that he’s the King in the North is Jon Snow, Ned Stark's “bastard” and the former Nights Watch Lord Commander who came back from the dead.

The doors to the hall were swung open for me and I walked in, spotting Daenerys at the head of the table, looking through some documents. The sound of the doors closing, snapped her out of her thoughts. When she saw me she smiled, which I returned.

“What did I say about bringing work to the dining table,” I lightly scolded. She gave me a sheepish look and protested, “it can’t be helped, it's important work. As Queen I’m expected to do this and more.”

I walked over to her, carefully taking the documents and setting them off to the side. “Dany, you’ve been a Queen since you married Khal Drogo. You need to step back and take some time to just be Daenerys. Otherwise you’ll grow overworked.”

“Alright, alright. If you’re so sure.” She nodded towards the servants to begin serving the food. Like always, an array of food was laid out for us to eat. We both began to eat, making small talk and updating each other with any new updates.

“Gray Worm has been telling me that you’re quite exceptional with a sword,” She teased.

I playfully rolled my eyes, groaning, “not you too.” She let out a laugh, teasing me some more. “What? He says you’re a fast learner. He says he’s never seen someone land on their arse five times in a row.”

“Right, that’s it.” I huffed. “I’m running away.”

Daenerys laughed some more and I tried to hide my smile. Truthfully, she reminded me of my younger cousin in Volantis, Mera. Both of them had a heart of gold and an innocent child-like soul deep down.

“The servants told me that you refused to have your hair braided.” Daenerys points out. She’s not wrong. Instead of braiding my hair I opted to leave it in a ponytail or let it down.

“Well, I haven’t won any battles.” I said. “Each one of your braids represents a battle won, I haven’t won anything.”

“So if you win you’ll braid your hair?”

“Sure, why not. Why? Do you not want me to?”

“No, no. Actually, I would quite like that.” She smiled.

I eyed her suspiciously, “don’t tell me you’re planning on putting me in the frontlines.”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Your lessons with Gray Worm are going well. Who knows, by the time we’re ready for war you’ll be a master swordsman –or rather swordswoman.”

The rest of the breakfast went fine. Daenerys and I decided to take a stroll around the castle ground claiming she has something to show me. She dropped off the papers in her office before taking me through the back of the castle to the open fields in the back. The wind swept by us, carrying the saltiness of the ocean and the fresh scent of grass.

“Where are we going?” I asked as she led me deeper into the field.

“I just wanted to show you something. They’re right over there.”

We stood atop a hill and at the foot of the hill on the other side resting were Daenerys’ dragons. I felt my heart stop. No way. What the actual fuck. My mouth ran dry as I looked over the three dragons. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion, all in their full glory. I looked over to Daenerys who was already looking towards me.

“You’re serious?” I ask. She smiles and nods. “What if they don’t like me and decide to eat me?”

Daenerys laughed, her cheeks turning pink. “They will do none of that sort, I swear. I have a strong feeling that they will like you.”

Carefully she led me closer to the three dragons. With every step they just grew more and more. They towered over the two of us and stood with immense power. And to think that these three are just a small fraction of the size of Balerion and the rest of the Targaryen fleet.

We stood a few feet away but I could still feel the heat that they emitted from their bodies. Their majestic eyes that were probably the size of my head watched me carefully. Shiny scales adorned their bodies that looked to be about the size of my hand or bigger. Their one claw nail was the same size as my limbs.

Holy fuck was this crazy. I’d read about these dragons and even saw a few drawings made by people who’d seen them in textbooks, but being this up close and personal with them was a whole other experience.

Oddly enough, for such dangerous creatures, they seemed to emit a sense of calm.

“You feel it too?” Daenerys eyes my reactions to the dragons. “Their calm.”

I nodded. “I thought my heart would be doing somersaults in my chest, but it’s not.” After the initial shock, I felt my body relax.

“They’re so beautiful.” I said to no one in particular.

We hung around them for some time, allowing me to get used to their presence while Daenerys told me stories about her and her dragons.

I looked over the dragons. Drogon, named after Daenerys’ husband Khal Drogo. Rhaegal, named after Rhaegar the Dragon Prince. Viserion, named after Viserys the Beggar King.

Daenerys followed my gaze to the cream and gold scales dragon that laid on the grass alongside his brothers. Viserion and Rhaegal seemed to play fight while Drogon watched.

“Despite their playful nature, those two are the oldest.”

“What?

The dragons carefully made their way over to where we stood. Drogon moved towards Daenerys, moving his tail around her as if giving her a hug. Rhaegal moved around behind us, opting to lounge. Viserion, however, moved closer to me. His green eyes bore into mine, as if it was trying to communicate with me.

He brought his face closer to me, like a dog wanting to be pet. I glanced back at Daenerys who nodded.

Viserion tilts his head when I carefully bring my hand up to stroke his gold and cream scales. A deep purr comes from him, nearly startling me. He nuzzles his head into my palm and purrs some more. It wasn’t like a cat's purr, more like a deep bass.

“Would you like to fly him?” Daenerys asks.

“Yes,” I replied without a thought, too entranced at the dragon in front of me.

She moves around Drogo, standing to the side of him.

“Stand like this,” she says. “This is what I find the easiest.”

I mimic her stance, standing besides Viserion. Drogon crouched down and Daenerys carefully stepped up, using his scales and spikes to seat herself atop the dragon.

I copied her, being careful to not hurt Viserion (not that I’d be able to) and sat myself on top of the gold dragon. It was uncomfortable, almost like riding a really large horse with spikes and scales. How Daenerys was able to ride her dragons without a saddle or harness was beyond me.

My hands gripped onto the spikes on Viserions back, holding on tightly as the gold dragon began to shift around from a crouched position to fully stand. My hands gripped onto him tighter as I tried not to fall off. I peaked over its massive body to see that Viserion was getting ready to take off.

“W-wait!” I looked towards Daenerys who was watching from atop Drogon. “Why is it taking off? What do I do?” Panic filled my voice.

There was no way in seven hells that she thinks that I can fly, right?

“Hold on!” She grins just as Drogon takes off into the sky. VIserion gets ready and I can already feel myself slipping off. He takes off just as I adjust my position, hunching down and tightening my grip onto his spikes.

Wind rushes past my ears and my hair flows all over the place. Instinctively, I closed my eyes while Viserion flew in the air. I could hear Daenerys call for me from across the sky.

“Open your eyes!” She says. “You’ll be safe, I promise.”

Carefully, I opened them. It was brighter up in the sky than on the ground and had a lot less clouds. I could hear the, surprisingly, gentle flaps of Viserions wings. I cautiously looked down, seeing that we were miles off the ground, so far up that we could see Dragonstone Island and I could feel my stomach start to buzz.

“Don’t look down,” I look up to see Daenerys. “When it was my first time I was terrified, as well, but you cannot let your fear control you or else it will transfer to your dragon.”

I nodded, taking in her words and sitting up straight with confidence. Despite still feeling uneasy I managed to get my grip on things (literally). Daenerys’ words rung in my ears.

“Your dragon,”

I’d read of Dragons bonding with non-Targaryens or non-Valyrians, case and point being Hugh Hammer riding Vermithor during the Dance of Dragons. But it would make sense if I could bond with Viserion in light of recent findings.

“Alright, let’s see what we can do.” I said to Viserion and I.

—

Daenerys and I spent the rest of the day riding our dragons. It was challenging, especially the part where you literally have to hold onto for dear life, but rewarding in the end.

In the end Viserion and I had truly bonded. He would know what I was thinking or how I was feeling without even saying a word to him. At first I thought it was just the two of us getting the hang of each other, but Daenerys explained that this was what she and Drogon felt. It was hard to believe that I was a Dragon Rider. But then again, this past week has shown that anything could be possible.

Getting off the Dragons was harder than getting on, my dress snagging on its scales, but not ripping entirely.

“I can help you with your riding,” Daenerys says as we walk back into the castle.

“I’d like that.” I replied. “I’m sure we can find books in the libraries that can help us too.”

“Have you uncovered anything else?” She asks, expectantly.

I shook my head. “Nothing of significance. I’ll keep reading and let you in on my findings.”

We split off so we could clean ourselves up and get ready for dinner. The bathtub was already ready for me when I entered the room. I pulled off my dress and sunk into the steaming hot water. The tension in my shoulders loosened and I dipped my head back to rest on the edge of the bathtub.

The weight of my necklace lay heavy on my chest, a firm reminder of my… predicament. I tried not to think about it all, otherwise I’d just spiral into some rabbit hole. Some days I wonder if it’s all some sort of dream. A long, vivid dream that I can't wake up from. A knot pulls at my chest, and my throat closes. My eyes flicker up to the ceiling, tears threatening to fall. I took a deep breath, the only thing I can do is take everything in day by day.

And then I fully submerged myself into the water.

a/n: finally, it’s here :) mb if there’s any spelling mistakes, i tried to proofread it but i kept falling asleep and couldn’t be asked anymore 😭 i’ll fix it later, trust 🙏.

comment to be on the taglist!

@wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @daenerys713 @ministark @laanswife @idohknow @jromanoff

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fadingsnow · 10 months

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DAENERYS TARGARYEN x f! reader - FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU (short blurb)

SUMMARY AND TW: No tw! Just a short blurb on being tired of the daily duties and cuddling with Daenerys. DANY LIVESSS!

Daenerys turned her head to look at you, frustrated with a slight frown, discussing matters of state was too boring. You both clearly felt overwhelmed by the sheer weight of their responsibilities. Your own voice had become hoarse, and quiet after hours of speaking to men who were noneless towards the caring of the Seven Kingdoms. Dinner wouldn't change anything. The echoes of sounds against the walls bounced back into your ears, "No, did you hear what that Stark girl did?" "Well I heard Lannister-" The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, the sounds of the feast around them growing more distant. You slowly rested your head on her shoulder, murmuring in her ear, your breath tickling her neck, "May we please go, my queen?" You said my queen teasingly, accompanied with a tired grin.

You reached out and took Daenerys' hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. Daenerys looked up and met your eyes with a small smile on her features. "Maybe.. What would you wish to do?" Her eyes never left your face, almost making you turn away nervously with a light blush coating your face. Still, after all this time you never managed to let go of your silly girl crush on her.

"Let's get out of here," Daenerys murmured quietly to you, standing up, looking around to make sure no one would notice. Most of the court cared only about gossip at such a late time, so they wouldn't even notice if one white-haired woman and her lover leaving such a spacious room. You slowly got up with her, making sure you couldn't lose her somehow. She hurriedly grabbed you, leading you through the halls filled with windows stained with art containing her ancestry, her hand grasping yours tightly. They walked for a few moments in silence, their footsteps echoing through the empty corridors.

Finally, after countless steps, and directions, you had found Daenerys' chambers. Daenerys opened a massive door adorned with signs of her riches and heritage, leading to a sitting room, and you followed her inside, her long white hair bouncing against her back as she walked. The room was warm and cozy, the fire's warmth in the hearth helping your hands and body, and soft silk blankets on the bed.

"Well.. I assumed you wanted to rest, and you never told me where you wanted to go." She muttered hesistantly, as though she worried she had upset you. "Oh no- Of course. It's great, trust me. Soo..?" You gestured to the bed, "Cuddles?" "Yeah." You ran to the bed, not caring at all on how the sight looked to anyone else but you two. You both let out a deep sigh while settling onto the bed, Daenerys's head resting on Y/N's shoulder this time. Your back even hurt from resting on the bed for a minute, the pain and exhaustion of the day catching up to you. You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close.

"We'll figure all of this out," You whispered. "I promise."

Daenerys nodded, closing her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being held.

"Thank you," Daenerys said softly. "I don't know what I would do without you. I mean, the amount of petitions, requests.. And the people who undermine my-"

You smiled, kissing her temple. "You don't have to do it alone. We're in this together."

For a moment, Dany let herself pretend that this moment would never end. That they could stay here forever, wrapped in each other's arms, safe from the dangers of the world outside.

But of course, it was only a moment. Daenerys knew that they still had a long road ahead, filled with challenges and pitfalls. But at least for now, she had you at her side.

And that, she realized, was all she needed.

#daenerys x reader #daenerys targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #got x reader #got x you #got x y/n #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fic #game of thrones x y/n #game of thrones x reader #make this go viral #spotify #Spotify

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axelsagewrites · 10 months

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My dear author, I just read "Daemon Targaryen*In Charge" and omg it's amazing! That said, if you're taking requests could I get a part 2, extremely fluffy focused on their married life (how they support each other and are completely devoted to each other, stuff) please?

Daemon Targaryen*My Moon and Stars

Pairing: Daemon x essos!reader

Summary: The reader experiences a peaceful day of married life since moving to Westeros for love

Word count: 1419

This is a fluffy sequel to In Charge. Can be read by itself

Warnings: just pure fluff

Masterlist Here

Translations:

Kirimvose - thank you

Ñuha qēlos - my star

Ñuho glaeso hūrus - moon of my life

It was easy to miss Essos, the smell of its spices, the music that rang in the streets like church bells, and the hot summer sun. Moving from the depths of the East to the capital of the West had been a big adjustment, to say the least. The lords spoke differently here, the streets were busy but somehow not as loud, and the air was cold even when others said it was warm. A foreign land with strange people yet for some reason you kept choosing to stay.

Daemon was the reason why. He was the reason you didn’t pick a ship and sail back. He was the reason you smiled, the reason you laughed, the reason your body felt warm even during the winter season. He was also currently laying behind you, arm lazily draped over your waist. His fingers drew light circles over your hip bone.

“We must wake dear husband,” you said, stifling the yawn that threatened to spill. You had gone to bed later than usual last night and the reason why lay behind you.

Daemon brushed the hair off your shoulder, placing a kiss on the nape of your neck, “Not yet ñuha qēlos,” my star he called you. The star from the east to guide him home he would call you.

“ñuho glaeso hūrus,” you said back slowly, the pronunciation feeling tight on your tongue. “Did I say it right?” You asked, turning your head at first but soon moving to lay on your back to gaze up at his face.

“Yes qēlos,” he whispered, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips. While you were the star, he was the moon. Moon of my life. He’d taught you the phrase after he taught you qēlos. “Your Valerian is almost as good as mine,” his lilac eyes gazed into yours and sometimes at night you wondered if the moon would be prettier in purple.

Later that day once you had finally managed to pry Daemon from his marriage bed you decided to walk the grounds while Daemon trained in the courtyard. The red keep had been quiet recently, perhaps too quiet, but nonetheless, you decided to enjoy the rarity to its full extent. As you walked you noticed all the other wives gathered in clusters with their sewing or their embroidery or occasionally a book.

While the wives may have smiled at you and asked polite questions it had yet to go further. Lady Beesbury smiled at you from her embroidery group, even lifting her hand for a small wave. “They’ll love you once they know you. Like I have, “Daemon's words rang in your heads as you took your first step over. “Ladies,” you greeted the three as you approached.

“Princess,” all greeted, bowing their eyes down before looking back up. You found the curtseying and bowing and titles of Westeros all so painful, but you did not want to correct them yet. “Have you come to join us princess?” Lady Harte asked, glancing around the group.

“If you would like me to my lady,” you said, daemon having spent many a night with you teaching you how to speak to people at court.

Lady Beesbury grinned as she shuffled over on the bench she sat on, “It would be an honour princess,”

“Thank you,” you said, sitting down next to her, glancing at her embroidery, “But please we are in our own company, call me by my name,”

“Very well,” Lady Beesbury said, a smile eating up her face, “Well (Y/N) I’m Alice and these are my friends,” as Alice began to introduce you to your new group you didn’t notice the watchful lilac eyes from the windows above.

Daemon stood silently, leaning on the balcony watching how you smiled as you spoke, how your hands moved with each word, with a relaxed grin on his face. He wasn’t sure how long he had been watching you until he saw Lady Beesbury finger-pointing him out to you. When your eyes met, he noticed your smile widening. Daemon didn’t want to ruin your fun however so left it at a simple wave.

As he walked through the corridors, he noticed a face that he knew would soon become familiar, “Lord Beesbury,” Daemon greeted, suddenly approaching the slightly bumbling man that had been roaming court for the past month. “Do you and your wife have planned this evening?”

“N-not my prince,” the man stuttered out, his cheeks pinking at the edges, “Can we be of service to you in anyway?”

Daemon chuckled lightly at this, “You can help us polish off the plates if you’d like. Would you both like to join us at dinner?” Daemon even managed to have him track down the other wives and their husbands and you were shocked to find out about the sudden dinner party you were hosting.

“Not that I’m complaining,” you told daemon in your chambers as you finished getting ready. Your hands sneaked around his waist, pulling him into you, “But what’s with the sudden want for company darling?”

“It was nice to see you making friends,” he said, brushing the hair out of your face, “and see you smile of course,” he added when he saw the grin spreading across your cheeks.

The dinner had been a success and Daemon even managed to enjoy himself somehow, but he was thankful that it was over. “I forget how much I hate to share,” he mumbled into your neck.

You laughed as you pushed him off of you. “You were right by my side the whole night my moon,” you said as you stroked his cheek, “Besides I cannot have my bath with you clinging to my hip like a wanting child,”

Daemon grinned, his eyebrow-raising, “A bath you say?” He said as his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

“My bath,” you said pointedly, your hand pushing against his strong chest, “For I smell horrible,”

“You’ve never smelt horrible,” Daemon said but finally he relinquished his grip. As you turned to finish the touches on your bath, Daemon moved to sit on a chair close by. You worked silently, filling the bath with milks, honey, salts, and flowers as daemon watched each move. When you moved here impromptu you had left much of Essos behind, but Daemon was soon to send for all the salts and dried flowers you needed for these baths.

The water had turned a milky lilac once you’d finished and the steam from the water smelt like a sweet flower in spring. As you reached for the laces of your dresses Daemon stood silently. Without words he moved to stand behind you, pulling on each lace gently until he slipped the dress over your shoulders to pool on the floor.

You stepped out of the dress, moving over to step in the bath when you looked up to see Daemon carefully folding the fine silk dress away into the correct chest. You let yourself enjoy the sight, your husband oblivious to your gaze, before allowing yourself to enter the hot water, sighing as the warmth enveloped your body.

You let your eyes flutter shut as you rested your head on the edge of the bath. When heard footsteps pad across the floor, the sound of a chair scraping stone, then felt soft fingertips trail along your scalp. Your eyes fluttered open and when they looked up you saw Daemon looking down. “Relax ñuha qēlos,” he said gently, his voice not far above a whisper.

Allowing your eyes to shut again you let Daemon continue his movements. His fingers slipping into your hair, scratching gently at your scalp at first making you groan in pleasure. He continued his work silently, grabbing a hair oil from your chest of smells and pastes. His fingers stroked through your hair, using the oil the way he had watched you do many times. You let yourself enjoy the silence, enjoy his touch.

After he had finished with your hair daemon had you sit further forward to massage your back, working out any tension Westeros had caused. “Thank you,” you whispered into the near-silent room as Daemon worked out a knot in your shoulder.

Daemon paused for a moment, holding your shoulders in his hands. He leant forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek without caring that he got his shirt wet. None of that mattered to him right now, “Anything for you ñuha qēlos,”

“kirimvose ñuho glaeso hūrus,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

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valaenatargaryensdragon · 1 year

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Hello!

Can you make a dark daemon targaryen x reader where he betrays rhaenyra and gives the throne to stepdaughter reader??

A/N: I hope you like it!

pairing: Dark!Daemon Targaryen x Stepdaughter!Reader

summary: Daemon betrays Rhaenyra and gives the throne to stepdaughter reader

Word count: 1,0K

Warnings: Angst, betrayal, fluff

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

You slid down from your dragon still feeling adrenaline pump through your body along with your blood. There was quite the mess but nothing that cannot be fixed soon and fast. Your uncles were finally gone and the throne empty for your mother.

You walked into the Keep alongside your younger brothers Aegon and Viserys, the only ones still alive. You still remembered those walls from when you lived here as a small child, you were born within those walls.

Aegon held your left hand and Viserys your left. You guided them along with the guards behind you towards the throne room. You had fought alongside your mother and stepfather to reclaim the throne but returned to dragonstone to bring your brothers yourself.

The doors opened in front of you showing you victory still being cleaned by the maids and servants. Blood was all around the room along with ashes. You killed Alicent Hightower yourself leaving Otto to your stepfather knowing the hatred there ran deep within him.

She did not beg for her life and you made it quick out of the kindness of your heart, she knew her children had all died and she had nothing to live for anymore, nothing to beg for anymore. You were merciful and made your dragon burn her a fast and quick death instead of being devoured.

"Tala" Daughter. Rhaenyra greeted from atop the throne wearing the magnificent golden crown on her head. Your eyes stuck to the crown imagining what it would look like on your own head, you were her heir being the eldest of the three remaining children.

"Mother, my queen" You curtsied while your brother bowed. Daemon was stood by her side. She stood up from the throne and stepped down with her arms wide open.

"Take them" You ordered one of the maids when your mother had hugged both of your brothers. The maid complied without hesitation. Your mother raised her eyebrow confused with you action.

"They are tired from the ride here" You justified. Your eyes darted to Daemon who also stepped down standing beside you two.

"I am glad you are alright, tala, I was worried something had happened to you"Daughter. Rhaenyra placed her hand on your shoulder gently. You smiled lightly and pulled your mother closer to you for a hug. She squeaked surprised, she had not hugged you since you turned ten and two, when you got your maiden blood saying you were a woman grown now and no longer a child.

"I am happy to see you as well, muña" Mother. You spoked eyes looking at Daemon over her shoulder. He smirked stepped closer as well and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"Daemon! What are you doing?" She squirmed in your arms confused. You held her tighter to your body, eyes never leaving those of your stepfathers. She let out a shocked gasp body jolted with shock. Daemon broke the eye contact to look at his work, his hand wrapped around a dagger handle plunged into your mother's side.

"Tala" Daughter. Her eyes filled with tears of betrayal. She cried out loud now as a second dagger lodged itself in her stomach with your own hand on the handle. You pulled away smirking, watching as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Why?" She whispered. Her grip was growing weak. You pulled out the dagger along with Daemon and let her fall on the floor. The crown clang loudly as it hit the floor. Daemon leaned down and picked the piece of metal off the floor. Her eyes followed his movement as he moved closer to you and placed the crown on your own head of white-blonde hair, still you were a strong bastard, your brown eyes gave you away but that does not matter when you were queen.

"My queen" Daemon was about to kneel but you stopped him and instead pulled him in for a kiss. He snaked his arms around your waist pulling you closer to his body, he was not below you, he was your equal unlike how your mother viewed him and treated him. Now it was obvious to Rhaenyra what you had promised him in return for the crown.

"Guards" She tried to yell but her voice came out weak. You pulled away from your stepfather. You walked over to her while she attempted to crawl away from you smearing even more blood on the floors of the throne room. You held her in place and crawled to sit on her stomach with all you weight on her stab wound.

"Goodbye mother" Were your last words before your dagger slashed across her neck opening it for the blood to flow out.

"Come my queen, we have a coronation to attend" Daemon helped you off your dead mother. You smirked putting the dagger away and held his arm in one of your own while the other rested on your hidden bump where your and Daemon's child grew inside of you.

"And a wedding" You giggled letting him lead you out of the room for the servants to find your mother's corpse and declare you an official queen before the masses with the golden metal crown on your head and the conquerers' on Daemon's head.

You and Daemon ruled side by side not caring when people voiced their disgust over your relationship. He was much older, married thrice before you and one of his wives was your own mother but that did not matter he was your husband now and the father of your children.

You locked your brothers in their chambers until they were of age before sending them away to exile to bravos where they spent their remaining years attempting to kill you to avenge your mother but they never succeeded.

You birther three children for Daemon, first came a son name Valegon followed by twin sons, Rhaelarr and Vaelor. Valegon died along with his father fighting a rebellion against you and Rhaelarr succeeded you later on in life but what matter was that you took the throne and saved the smalkfolk from your mother and her greed for power. Daemon may have manipulated you as a child and you grew to see that as an adult but you were far too gone to back away now after all those years.

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witchthewriter · 1 year

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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

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

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

SFW🌿

・Your relationship with Dany had already been established

・You were her sworn sword as well as a dragon seed

・Dethra was one of the dragons who had grown up in the outskirts of Old Valyria. The creatures that now haunt the ruins hadn’t noticed the scarred dragon.

・There are rumours of smaller dragons that live around the world, but in this time, rumour outweighs truth. And no one knows what is a lie and what isn’t

・You had arrived with Dany at Winterfell, on the back of your own dragon.

・Dethra, currently the biggest dragon is Westeros. Her skin a mix of gold and silver. Her colours made her scars look even more gruesome. She was as old as you, her years hiding in Valyria made her jumpy and hyperactive.

・But she and Drogon seemed keen on each other

・And when Drogon had accepted Dethra, Dany had accepted you.

・So when you and Dany had flown to Winterfell, greeting the Starks, and the gathering Houses, everything changed

・There was a feeling that Sansa hadn’t felt in years.

・A yearning. A need ... desire.

・Daenarys’ beauty was astounding. A true Targaryen in the flesh.

・Alluring, that was the word Sansa had arrived at. Dany was alluring. And she wanted her.

・To Sansa, you were a fearsome sight. Someone who didn’t take any crap from anyone

・As well as being a dragon-rider, you had visions.

・And in one of your visions, you saw three heads on the Iron Throne. One you knew well, white-haired. Dany. Surprisingly, you saw your own head ... it had a golden crown ontop it

・And then there was ... someone with red hair.

・A woman.

・You instantly knew who it was.

・Jon was smitten with Dany, and although Dany did find him attractive, the moment she set eyes on Sansa, she knew who she wanted

・Like her forefather, Aegon the Conquorer, Dany too decided to have two wives

・And you agreed. You would be by Dany’s side until your dying breath.

・She had a fierce kind of love for you, one that was passionate and unyielding

・So when you agreed to have Sansa as well, her heart beamed

・It took a lot of politics to get close to Sansa, not just physically, but emotionally.

・She had walls up, and it took a while for her to show her true feelings

・And she was shocked with the proposition. She grew up being taught that marriage was between a man and a woman. Only two in marriage.

・But the thought of that freedom, to choose more than one person. To have a different dynamic.

・And why couldn’t she? People had played with her, her whole life.

・So Sansa decided it was time to take back her power utterly and completely

・The union and betrothal between her and Sansa shocked the Seven kingdoms

・Cersei heard the news while she sat in her chambers in King’s Landing. A chalice of red wine full to the brim.

“They cannot be serious?”

・Yes. You three were serious.

・You had no social or political standing, so in the eyes of the public, you were a mistress to both Dany and Sansa

・But you were just as important as either royal

・Sansa still didn’t want to bend the knee. As shocking as that may be, Dany understood. Winterfell had been a pawn. Torn back and forth between players.

・And with the growing threat of the White Walkers, Dany allowed Winterfell to be its own kingdom.

・Viserion and Rhaegal were curious about Sansa, they actually started to like her. Drogon was too busy helping Dany win battles.

・Dethra was wary of any other person but you

・Even Dany had to work hard to get Dethra to trust her

・Jon was hurt that Dany chose Sansa over him. But he held no ill-will

・They was too much oncoming danger for people to feel sad over matters of the heart

・Dany calls you “my heart” in High Valyrian: “Issa prūmia”

・She calls Sansa “red queen” in High Valyrian: “Mele dāria”

・ Sansa calls Dany “sweetheart”

・And Sansa calls you “lady death” jokingly, but ... she definitely means it. But as a petname, she calls you “darling”

・You call Dany “my queen”, even though she tells you not to. You always do.

・Sansa’s name from you is “ Perzys” which is “fire” in High Valyrian

・You and Dany are constantly teaching Sansa new phrases in High Valyrian, and after a few weeks, Sansa asks you to actually teach her

・That’s how you grow close, being taught something connects one person to another. A teacher and a student.

・Sansa had felt saddened by the fact that Dany and yourself have dragons. At times, yes she does want one herself, but it’s also the fact that she had a bonded companion. Lady. She misses her dearly.

・So, when winter’s night, you and Dany brought Sansa down to the courtyard in Winterfell and presented her with a whole litter

“Gods, what is going on?” She exclaimed.

“We notice things, my love,” Dany cooed, walking up behind the red-haired Queen and put a hand on her back.

Sansa started to cry then. Tears slipping from her glistening eyes. The pups yelped and whined.

You walked up beside Sansa and wiped away her tears, kissing her cheek. “You can have as many as you like.”

・Sansa was overcome with glee. She took in all five of the Direwolf pups. You and Dany had scowered every country, every land, crevice and hill.

・It was Rhaegal who had found the pups. Yes, he was going to eat them, but you got there just in time, on the back of Dethra.

・Sansa loves when Dany braids her hair. She took on the Dothraki tradition that both you and Dany follow. Braids are added everytime you win a battle, and when you lose ... your braids are taken.

・To ensure that you and Dany are right for her, Sansa took you both to the crypts. She told you about her family and watched for your reaction

・The empathy and sympathy radiating from you both struck Sansa in the heart

・And without asking for one, there was a sign. A black raven’s feather, at the feet of her father’s crypt.

・You had seen it and picked it up, feeling it between your fingers

・Sansa’s chest flooded with warmth, and she knew you two would be hers, forever.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

Hares on the Mountain by The Local Honeys

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

✧ Queen (Sansa) x The Queens’ Advisors (You) x Queen (Dany)

✧ Touch Either One Of My Girlfriends And You Die x3

✧ Hot-Headed Intimidating (You) x Royally Intimidating (Dany) x Cold Intimidating (Sansa)

NSFW🔞minors dni!

・Sansa was slow to sex at first. Neither you or Dany pushed her to do anything she didn’t want to do

・But Sansa soon realised that sex with a woman was completely different to sex with a man

・Soft touches and light moans

・Sansa was a bit self-conscious at first, but you whispered compliments whenever you saw her frown

・You and Dany were used to each other’s bodies. You both knew what the other liked, what made the other arched their back and moan with pleasure

・Sansa found out that she was a soft dom that likes firm boundaries and obedience from her sub

・Dany likes to be ordered around in bed. She felt the most pleasure when dominated; fingers in her mouth, hair-pulled.

・Sansa likes to dominate you the most. She likes being soft with Dany, but firm with you. There’s something wild in your blood that she wants to overpower

#sansa stark #sansa stark x reader #sansa stark headcanons #sansa x reader #sansa stark x y/n #daenerys stormborn #daenerys targeryan #daenerys targaryen #dany targaryen #dany targeryan headcanons #sansa x daenerys #sansa x dany #sansa x reader x dany #poly #poly headcanons #game of thrones #game of thrones headcanons #got fanfiction #george r.r. martin

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chromiumagellanic06 · 27 days

Text

The Silver Knight: Warrior, Princess, Wife

Daemon Targaryen/Original Fem [Targaryen] Character

Chapter 29: Complete

MASTERLIST

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

Word count: 2.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You could—”

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

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

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

“It is only mother, even the King—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let me hold this hand forever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I name you man, blood in your nature.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She leaned on her toes and kissed his lips.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, but the uncle knows,” he descended on her neck again, “He knows very well how much his niece loves having his spend in her womb.” He hoisted her legs up, lips falling to her breasts.

“Yes, oh, yes he does,” she moaned, wits departing her, fingers tugging at his hair, leading him to the other breast. He complied greedily, nipping, licking, kissing the flesh, leaving red and purple marks on every patch of free skin.

Her garbs were torn and ruined; her headdress abandoned in the hands of Laenor before they had scurried to the corridors in some mad bout of lust. Gods, lust was only one word for what she felt. She felt charged, as though lightning had struck her very soul. She felt fiery, as she often did when he stood beside her.

One kiss to his lips and the sentiment had caught on as a candle-flame blazes into an arsonist’s dream.

Now her swelling flesh was in his hands. She had lapped away the drying blood of his lip, sucked at the tear in his skin till the wound was raw, and now, she was at his mercy once again.

“Daemon,” she called, making him stare into her eyes with his own, lilac flowers and bloody amethysts. Beautiful. His hair was tousled, red streaking his forehead, but his eyes, those eyes that were over a decade older than her own yet were livelier than she had been just moons ago.

“Naera,” he called back, as had become their ritual, and she recalled the sweet bliss of hearing her name from his lips again. Completion, he made her sound complete, made her believe that she could conquer this new land that was marriage and slay this new demon that was mistrust.

Footsteps.

And the moment broke, but he was smiling as he leaned his face close to hers, covering her form from view.

“Fuck off,” he chastised behind himself, swaying his wife slowly. “Can’t you see—” but Naera put a finger to his lips, her eyes trained over his shoulder. Daemon turned tentatively, half-expecting his brother or the Hightower cunt or the cunt lord of hands but no.

He hugged his sweet wife tighter as she gave a subtle nod to Aemond, her half-brother—his sister Helaena’s hand in his, her face caught blushing a bright red, as they rushed through corridors and passageways, hastened and cautious. When their footsteps echoed away, Naera laughed.

“The Hightowers fall on our wedding after all.”

To be, or not to be…

…continued

MASTERLIST

18 notes · View notes

madwomansapologist · 9 months

Note

neapolitan — what song can describe them as lovers? and daenerys

neapolitan — what song can describe them as lovers?

⤷ with: daenerys targaryen

Sweet — Lana Del Rey

Do you know how hard it was for me, dear anon, to chose something not blood or fire related? Do you know how it made me want to die for not being able to chose a song with the world "queen" on it's title? Can you imagine my strenght to chose a song with a WATER MOTIF?

But that one is so fucking accurate.

And remember where I'll be/ Sweet in bare feet/ You can find me where no one will be = A house with red doors, her own bedroom and a lemon tree. Okay. Now I'm fucking emotional.

Daenerys spend her entire life searching for a home. Not a house, not a place where she could sleep: a home. Like the one from her brother's stories. Like the one from her dreams. Like the one her heart would be able to recognized anywhere.

To love, for Daenerys, is to feel at home. To have a certain kindness that only sharing a house would be able to contain. Is to feel know, seem, heard. Is to feel welcomed. To feel desired.

And maybe in another life, maybe if life was fair, Daenerys wouldn't have to spend half her time conquering with fire and bloog and the other half learning that it takes more than that to make a ruler. In another life, Daenerys would spend sleepless nights asking you if you ever thought about having children. If you would ever marry her. If you wanna run marathons by the sea.

Daenerys would be able to do nothing at all. And to do it with you.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

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damn-stark · 1 year

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Chapter 14 Ice & fire

Chapter 14 of Sandstorm

A/N- Stop this my favorite chapter, and the next one will be so good and full of fluff too.

Warning- Violence, blood, swearing, talks of death, fluff!, talks of birth, long chapter, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW MONTHS LATER*

Hints of smoke filter the room as the candles are brought to life, basking the room and the altar with its yellow dancing hue.

It’s hard, but you manage to get on your knees on the pillow and slowly look up at the portrait of Rhaenar. “Hello my boy,” you whisper as if he were here. “Sorry I didn't come last night, I,” you scoff softly. “Couldn’t stay awake,” you laugh softly and drop your gaze as you clasp your hands together. “I’ve come to update you, all the forests at Storm's End are finally burnt, no tree means no ships. This morning the soldiers managed to completely cut off all food from coming in and out of Storm's End as well. Let’s see how King Gendry handles this problem.”

You sigh deeply and look up at his portrait; the only way you can see his face ever again. “Thanks to the Riverlands alliance and the Reach we’ve managed to reach King’s Landing borders, we have them surrounded. It’s been a short war, but well she hardly has any allies here…she’s just stubborn….” you trail off and groan as a a dull but irritating pain radiates throughout your lower back. “Anyway, I just want you to know that I’m in good hands here with Jon…I’m grateful he’s with me. He doesn’t leave my side now that the babies are due any week. He…” you swallow thickly and smile softly. “He’s kept my anger in check. Oh! And Helios left now, last night, he’s on his own now. Hopefully, I’ll see him again.”

Your smile then falters and tears fill your eyes, but you hold them back and instead offer him a happy smile. “That’s all for tonight, I’ll return tomorrow. I love you.” You linger in front of the altar for a moment longer before you try and push yourself up. However, the huge belly you now have forbids you proving Jon right; you do need him by your side all the time now.

“Ser Podrick,” you call out to the Knight standing outside the door. “May you come help me up? I believe Jon is right.” You look back and expect the door to open right away, but there’s no sound of metal armor brushing against each other, there’s no hurried footsteps as the kind knight tries to hurry to do as commanded, there’s silence.

“Ser Podrick?” You call out again. You wait, but nothing. “Okay,” you breathe out and now drop your head to try and get up yourself.

It’s a struggle, definitely, but you start to move up to your feet. The door then creaks open and you scoff breathlessly. “I’ve done it, Ser Podrick, no need to help now.” You smirk proudly and peer back, and that’s when you notice that the man hidden under a cloak is not Ser Podrick, or anyone you know; and you know that because you’ve made sure to take in all the faces of the soldiers that fight for you, everyone that lives in this castle and or is temporarily staying. This man is a stranger.

You try to reach for your concealed blade, but the man snatches your wrist and shakes his head. “No,” he says in an accent you’ve only heard across the sea and…with the Unsullied. She sent him.

You try to fight back and use your knee to hit him, but you can’t move your leg that far at the moment, so you instead stumble back and hit the altar. You try to reach for a candle, but then another man barges in and he quickly makes sure to cover your mouth and nose with a cloth that makes you lightheaded for a second, before darkness follows as you fall unconscious.

——

*JON*

The view of the stuffed wolves shifts as it tilts to the side. “Damn,” he hisses under his breath and reaches over to sit it up again and tilt it again so it can stay seated like the other one on the other cradle.

Just now a small package had arrived from Old Town, Sam had sent presents for the unborn twins; two black stuffed wolves. And Jon wanted to surprise you, but there was one defiant stuffed wolf that wouldn't stay up.

“Fuck it,” he gives up and leaves the one wolf on its side. He however does stay in front of the cradles and watches them even if they lay empty for now. A knock albeit then raps on the door, interrupting his quiet moment.

“Come in,” he addresses the visitor.

The door opens and footsteps walk in past the door, he turns and sees Ser Brienne, and the other six Queensguard Knights and Ser Jaime outside the door with worried expressions that make him falter.

“Your Grace,” Ser Brienne interjects and averts her gaze. “It’s the Queen…”

His eyes widen and a smile begins to tug on his lips as he thinks that you went into labor.

“….she’s gone,” Ser Brienne finishes, causing Jon’s smile to fall and panic and disbelief to paint over his face—“she was taken. Ser Podrick was put down by some kind of sleeping effect. I’m sorry, I will go on horseback and try to follow the trail of the abductors.”

Jon drops his eyes and stumbles back. “How…how could you let this happen?” He spats. “Why wasn’t there more than one guard with her?!”

“She went to the altar within the castle grounds, we never thought they’d take her from here. I’m sorry.”

Jon exhales and turns around as he shakes his head before he knocks the pitcher of water and cups off the table out of anger for them, your Queensguard, and himself for not disobeying you and staying by your side.

“We think that the abductors were probably undercover, or hiding and preying on the Queen from the shadows.”

Jon scoffs and then abruptly picks up his sword to storm out of the room. “Ser Brienne, you and two others of the Queensgaurd hurry and try to catch up to the abductors trail, two of you can stay with me,” he immediately commands. “Ser Rayne, have the castle locked down, no one leaves or comes in. Wake up the members of the small council have them convene at the hall, rally up the soldiers to get ready to march out.”

“One more thing,” Ser May adds. “There were two soldiers; an Unsullied and what we assume to be one of the Second Sons soldiers caught trying to escape the castle.”

Jon’s eyes snap to the woman knight and the corner of his lips curl. “Where?” He asks.

“We tied them up outside in the courtyard. Your sister, Lady Arya, is watching them.”

Jon nods and quickens his footsteps to head out to the courtyard first.

“If I may,” Ser Jaime cuts in and hurries up to catch up to Jon’s side. “I would like to accompany Ser Brienne and the Queensguard. I owe the Queen my life, let me help.”

Jon looks at Ser Jaime and then glances at his golden hand. The Knight notices and counters.

“I’m not whole, but again, I owe her my life. And…I made her and her father a promise. I might’ve failed before, but I won’t now. I’ll find her, protect her and your children.”

Jon’s hesitant, he only wanted the best after you, but if he wants to go then he can’t stop him. “Fine,” Jon says. “Go.”

Jaime offers Jon a nod before he and the others depart and hurry off to do as said. Once Jon makes it outside, Tyrion joins his side. “If I may—”

“You cannot,” Jon cuts him off. “For all I know you were the one that let in those people that took Y/N. Actually I should have you arrested. Ser Lana, take him to the cells, I’ll think of what will happen after I’ve brought back my wife.”

The Knight right away grabs Tyrion and pins his arms back, but he still manages to cut in with more words that begin to irritate Jon. “It’s smart to lock me up. I don’t have anything to do with it and only just found out as I saw your sister torturing the soldiers, but you won’t get an answer from the unsullied. Nothing will make him talk.”

Jon stops and turns on his heels to talk back. “I don’t need him to talk.” Jon clenches his jaw and gives him his back to continue towards the courtyard.

When he gets there he sees the two men tied back to back, both of them are bleeding but only one of them looks affected by the torture afflicted.

“Have either of them spoke?” Jon asks Arya.

Arya stands up straight and shakes her head. “No. Not yet, but they will.”

Jon shoots a glare at the unsullied. “Only one will,” he deadpans before he snatches the collar of the Unsullied’s chest armor and begins to drag him out towards the gate. “Bring the other one,” he commands Arya.

And without question or hesitation his sister obeys and trusts his actions, letting him feel thankful for that at this very moment.

“<You’ll die screaming in flames,> the Unsullied spats in Valyrian probably thinking that neither Jon or Arya can understand, but thanks to you he was learning and understood every word.

It’s why Jon stops in his tracks and drags the Unsullied around to be able to face him as he counters back venomously. “<After you.> He rolls his eyes ahead and continues to drag the man out, the gates open without him needing to say anything, and there in the darkness that blanketed the hill ahead lands a green beast. Due to the cloudy night he’s not seen, but his thunderous footsteps are heard before his blazing bronze eyes appear ahead, they begin to narrow as he begins to growl.

Jon walks towards Rheagal and leaves the Unsullied soldier there on the ground, before he steps back and clasps his hands in front of him. And without hesitation, remorse or a moment to ask questions, Jon says those menacing words. “<Dracarys>”

Rhaegal breathes out fire over the soldier, swallowing him in flames within seconds. The intense heat hits Jon, but he doesn’t move, he stands in front of the flames and watches the soldier begin to squirm, clench his jaw but eventually scream out when he couldn’t handle the flames eating at his flesh and bones. Jon watches the flesh melt off his bones before nothing is left but black burnt bones.

When all that moves is the flames Jon slowly turns around and faces the other soldier with a burning glower on his face. Rhaegal approaches Jon to be beside him, and growls at the soldier without needing to say anything. And this one soldier, unlike the other one, is visibly shaking, sweat beads roll off his face, and a foul smell begins to come off him as he just keeps his eyes on the dragon beside Jon.

“Please,” the soldier begs under Aryas grip. “Please. Mercy.”

Jon stomps towards the soldier and assures him in an angry filled tone. “My dragon won’t eat you, but only if you tell me where they took my wife.”

The soldier swallows thickly and slowly slides his eyes to Jon. He hesitates for a moment but his fear takes control and he can’t help but betray the Queen he was meant to be fighting for. “Harrenhal, Queen Daenerys asked to bring her to Harrenhal. That’s all I know, I swear, please…mercy. I’ll fight for you.”

Jon lets out a deep breath and without needing to say anything Arya pulls out her dagger and slices the man’s throat, killing him instantly. “Let Rhaegal eat him,” Jon grumbles before he sets towards the great hall.

When he’s inside all the members are already there, most of them are not as collected as usual because of how late it is, but they’re there and all go quiet as Jon strides in with his jaw clenched and his gaze narrowed. Arya follows behind with her chin raised high, and they notice you’re not leading the way or behind them, providing even more confusion.

“I know the hour is late, my lords and ladies,” Jon addresses everyone when he’s on the platform facing them. “But a dire situation arose, the Queen, my wife,” he sighs and clenches his fists. “Was abducted.”

Murmurs spread around the room and Sansa gets up from her chair, losing her smile as she thought you were having the babies.

“Queen Daenerys sent some of her men undercover to take her when she was visiting her son's altar,” Jon shares with them. “No one was killed during the act, and the Queensguard did manage to find two who had fallen behind. I killed them already after I got information from one of them. They’re taking her to Harrenhal. ”

“How did they sneak in and not get detected?” Sarella demands to know. “Why did her guards not stop them? That’s why they’re there!”

“Yes,” Jon agrees, “but they couldn’t, or at least that’s to my understanding, Ser Brienne said Ser Podrick was put to sleep that’s how they took her.”

“Where is Ser Brienne?” Elia asks. “And that dwarf? It was probably him, he was probably her spy, that's why they got in without getting noticed.”

The others quietly agree, and Sansa can’t defend him now because she might be right.

“Ser Brienne, and Ser Jaime and three others from the Queensguard went after the abductors. Lord Tyrion was placed under custody by me just now,” Jon shares. “He’ll remain there until after I return with Queen Y/N, after that we will decide what to do. As to how they got in?” He pauses and shakes his head. “I don’t know. All I do know is that I will get her back. Daenerys seems to be getting desperate, she knows she can’t hold Kings Landing without allies, winter is cruel and she can’t feed the people she wants to protect. She’s losing but doesn’t want to fail, it’s probably why she took the Queen, she probably wants us to surrender for her return, and if…y/n gives birth then she’ll use the children as leverage as well. But I won’t give up,” Jon adds and exhales deeply.

“I won’t lose y/ns fight, nor will I lose her, I will bring her back home and we’ll take that throne. Daenerys wants this war to come to an end, so we’ll give her what she wants.” Jon spats menacingly.

“Arya,” he names and the girl straightens up. “Sarella,” he adds, causing her to lift her chin. “Ser Davos, Lord Royce, you will lead the attack on the ground. They may have the numbers, but they’re on our lands, we know our lands, Daenerys doesn’t, we have the advantage. I will ride on Rhaegal and fight Daenerys and Drogon, keep her away from the armies while Ser Brienne, Ser Jaime and the Queensguard find y/n,” he continues, “we will find y/n and bring an end to this war.”

“What about me?” Elia interjects and jumps to her feet. “What will I do? It’s my cousin that they took, my sister, I can help.”

Jon’s gaze drifts to the girl, he knows she’s good on horseback, probably better than he is, but no matter how skilled she is he can’t bring himself to risk her life….and well Sansa does need people here to help her in case Daenerys wants to attack while the armies are marching elsewhere.

“Stay here,” Jon shares with the girl, already noticing her disbelief and annoyance. “Help Sansa keep the castle safe. That’s your job.”

Elia parts her mouth to argue back but Sarella pulls her back and whispers something to her, bringing silence and no other objections.

“Bran, if you can…see where Eraxis is, we might need her in battle,” Jon adds as he steps down the steps. “As for everyone else, fight, win, and don’t die, your Queen depends on it. Now let’s bring Queen Y/N back.”

——

*LATER. YOU*

The sound of booming thunder startles you awake. Is it storming outside?

You slowly sit up, and immediately that daze that took you captive and made you believe you were home disappears as you notice the small stone room you’re in.

That’s right…you were taken by Unsullied, by Daenerys.

Where did they bring you?

The room smells humid, thanks to the light provided by the single dancing flame eating away at the torch, you notice moss growing between the creaks of the wall. There’s only one window, but it’s far too high for you to see through. There’s one tiny bed, and a vase of water on the wooden nightstand, nothing else resides in this room besides that.

What’s her plan with you?

“Hey,” you call out and slide off the bed to stride towards the door. “Hey.”

There’s no answer.

“Hey!” You yell out louder and begin banging at the door. “Where am I? Where’s Daenerys! Tell her to come and stop being a fucking coward!” You pound both fists on the door, but receive no answer, so you turn and glance at the window; it’s far too small for you to escape out of with the belly, even if you didn’t have it, it would still be far too small. But it can give you insight about where you are.

Yet…there’s nothing for you to use to climb on and see through it, damn it!

You turn back around and begin to pound on the door again. “Tell me why I'm here! Bring her!”

Nothing again. You don’t have weapons to use. Damn. So there’s nothing left to go but keep hitting your hand against the door to annoy them and hopefully get an answer. Several minutes pass before finally through the sound of heavy rain multiple footsteps begin to approach the door. You back up expecting them to open the door, but instead the panel from the door's small window opens, and Daenerys' face appears.

“You should be resting,” she says, that’s the first thing she tells you after what she did—“it’s not safe for the babies—”

“You should let me out,” you cut her spitefully. “Or come in here. Let's see how good it goes for you.”

Daenerys scoffs. “I’m no fool, I know that the moment I walk in there you’ll try and kill me, as you know I have someone I have to protect now too.”

You clench your jaw and glare at her.

“You won’t be hurt,” she adds. “But you won’t be let out either.”

“Jon will come,” you sneer. “He’ll get me out.”

A sly smirk tugs on her face before she retorts. “I’m counting on it, but you can save him from the fate that he'll meet today. Bend the knee, you’ll be pardoned and get to live your life with your children wherever you want. Don’t, and lose him and all those that come after you.”

You swallow thickly and rather than seeming upset, defeated and give into submission, you lean forward and hold her gaze with a burning glare; even if inside your heart was beginning to tear at the thought of losing the one person that mattered to you now, the only person keeping you together, Jon.

“Kill him,” you snarl. “And I will kill you after I carve out that damn baby out of your stomach.”

Daenerys blinks in disbelief.

“Ask me,” you retort with a mischievous smirk even if you begin to feel a sharp cramp on your lower stomach. “Ask me how it is that you were able to get pregnant.”

Daenerys stiffens and her jaw clenches. She doesn’t reply so you continue.

“It was me. I was the one that reversed that witches spell. You should be on your knees thanking me you fucking bitch. Now, ask me why I did it.” You snicker.

Daenerys lifts her chin and looks at you with a gaze full of tears. She backs away and the panel then closes, blocking out the view of her tear covered eyes.

So she has you here as a trap to lure Jon and everyone else here? She wants to kill Jon now too?

No…not him. Anyone but him. If he dies…what else is there? What—

Again there’s a sharp cramp on your lower stomach and back. This was a lot more painful, it rattles your entire being.

The babies?

You twist around and look around panicked, no ounce of anger lingering behind, no hate for Daenerys, nothing but worry. Thunder claps in the sky, causing your shoulders to jump and more pain to attack your body.

But you’re here, stuck in a cell without Jon, they can’t come yet. Not yet. You’re all alone here, without even your dragon to keep you company. They can’t come yet—

More pain hits you and this time water pours out of you and runs down your legs and hits the stone floor. “No,” you murmur with tears in your eyes. “No. Not yet, please.”

Yet you have no word on the matter, they’re coming fast.

You try to lay on the bed, but the pain becomes insufferable, it makes you restless and doesn’t let you keep quiet anymore, you begin to grunt, groan and cry out as the first baby begins to come out fast. It’s not like before either; and maybe it’s due to the fact that you had your sisters, midwives and maesters with you, but this time the pain of labor is worse.

So much so that without you knowing Eraxis even feels the suffering you’re under, unbeknownst to you Jon had come across her on his way to you and he heard Eraxis cry erupt in the sky. He however doesn’t know why she screeches, he thinks it’s because she knows you’re missing. She might miss you, that’s what he thinks.

But no, you were under withering pain, covered in sweat and squatting on the ground.

“Come on!” You bellow out and then cry. “Get out!”

Thunder keeps erupting in the skies, sometimes it drowns out your cries, but sometimes it seems you’re louder.

A few minutes, or hours later who knows, just as Thunder roars in the sky, out slides the first baby after your last push.

“Oh,” you gasp softly and shakily lift the baby up in your arms, noticing that the first one out is Rhaenyra. She’s so tiny, so red and beautiful.

Rhaenar was the same when he came out….

However, he cried right away, Rhaenyra doesn’t. She stays quiet and you can’t help but grow concerned.

“Rhaenyra,” you whimper.

And as if understanding her name at that second she then breaks out crying, she begins to squirm in your hands, and squints her swollen eyes.

“Hi,” you muse and press your forehead against hers very gently. “Hi my love. Hi Rhaenyra, it’s okay, you’re okay. You’re with me. I’ll keep you safe.” You smile, but it’s only for a second because more pain then overwhelms you as the other baby follows to come out.

You try to be quiet so as to not startle Rhaenyra, but you can’t keep quiet, you cry out as you push. You place Rhaenyra down on the skirt of your dress and claw your nails on the floor as you keep pushing.

Thankfully the second baby comes out faster, and this one uses his new fresh pair lungs to cry out the moment they’re out.

“It’s okay,” you whisper and lift up the second baby, noticing that it’s a boy. The second one is a beautiful baby boy. “Hello my sweetling.” You cry out happily as you pull him towards you to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Hello my love.”

You then proceed to put him down next to his sister, and rapidly yank off your necklace to wrap the chain around the umbilical cords to cut them off. Once that’s done you pull the thin blanket off the bed to wrap them up and keep them warm, before you pick up the both of them and cradle them in your arms with a wobbly grin, and tears streaming down your cheeks. “I know, I know, your father isn’t here, but you’ll meet him soon, he’s going to be so happy. He’s so excited to meet the both of you.” You smile and watch them both calm down as they hear you talking to them. “Does it sound scary outside? Yeah that’s thunder, but it’s okay, you know my uncle Oberyn, your uncle, said that being born during a storm is a sign of good luck, a good omen, you my babies will have a good and exciting life.” You grin and watch the baby boy watch you with eyes as dark as Jon are. “But as for now it’ll go away.”

You then reach for the boy's hand, and he doesn't fail to wrap his little hand around your finger. “I’m sorry,” you direct at him. “I’m sorry you don’t have a name yet, your father…hasn’t decided. He’s too nervous about it.” You laugh softly. “You look like him,” you whisper. “Same dark eyes, same dark hair.”

The afterbirth comes out but you pay no mind to it, you’re too busy admiring the babies. “You, my lovely girl, have his eyes too, they’re so beautiful and dark.” Her hair albeit wasn’t the same color as Jon’s and her twin brothers, she doesn’t have a lot yet, but from what you can see, you can tell her hairs are silver-white just like yours, and your fathers.

She has Jon’s eyes though, they both do. Thank the gods they do. It’s like having him with you.

“There’s so many people happy to meet you.” You continue talking to them, unable to help your smile as they both watch you as if they’re hanging on to every word you’re saying.

“When we get home you’ll also meet your cradle mates, the dragon eggs your big brother Rhaenar picked out for you.” You let out a shaky breath as tears threaten to come out, but you hold them in. “You’ll meet Eraxis and Rhaegal too. You’ll fly soon as well, I promise.” You muster a smile and can’t help but caress their little cheeks.

They keep watching you, they bore their deep and dark eyes in you, and they’re all you can watch too. That is until the door opens and Greyworm walks in with a stoic face.

“Get out,” you grumble.

He however ignores you and approaches you. He crouches down and takes them, he takes the babies from your arms.

“No,” you sneer and try and push yourself up. “No! Give them back to me!”

The babies notice the stranger holding them, they don’t feel your warmth anymore and cry out. And that only makes you panic more, and triggers an adrenaline rush that lets you stand on your feet.

“Give me back my babies!” You bellow out as Greyworm only gets further away. “Greyworm!” You reach out for him, but the door then slams shut behind him and your babies. All you’re left to do is once again pound on the door and cry out, but this time with more desperation, this time with fuming anger, and thick tears.

You hit and hit the door over and over again until your hands are bloody and bruised. Eventually though the adrenaline runs its course and exhaustion overruns your body, leaving you stranded against the door and battling sleep.

The thunder had seemed to stop too, which is good, the twins are probably scared. Without the thunder however the cell was quiet, and it’s dangerous because it tempts you to sleep.

But you can’t fall asleep, you need to stay awake and keep trying to get that door open. You need to rescue your babies, they need you….

But this exhaustion is like a weight, it keeps pressing and pressing down. It dulls your senses, making your vision blur as your eyelids begin to droop, your hearing begins to tune out, causing you to ignore the rattling that shook the fragile castle and the hundreds of footsteps outside of the castle that sounded like more thunder. Your mind begins to go quiet as well as it dangles between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Grunting and groaning, metal clashing against each other begins to sound outside the door, but it seems distant so you ignore it and can’t help but rest your eyes.

Just for a second…

Alas, only a few minutes before the door gets pushed open, hitting your back and causing you to snap your eyes open.

The door gets pushed again, so you quickly drag yourself to the side and have no choice but to wait for the visitor that slowly creeps inside.

There’s no kind of weapon around you, so you hide in the corner of the cell and hold your breath so as to not be heard. A foot steps inside first before the door gets pushed open more, you then turn your head away and clench your jaw.

Yet just as the person peeks their head inside you quickly recognize the head of dirty blond hair. “Ser Jaime?” You breathe out, causing his head to snap to the side where you sit.

He gasps as his eyes widen with shock at the sight of your withered body.

“Your Grace,” he mutters before he rushes inside. And as he does come to you, you notice blood dripping down his leg.

“You’re bleeding,” you point out and stay pressed against the wall.

He shakes his head and crouches down, letting you see him twist his face as pain strikes from his leg. “Don’t worry about me, let’s get you up and out of here. You need to see a maester.”

You let him help you up but shake your head. “No…no, the baby’s,” you whisper and grab his arms to meet his gaze with tears clouding your eyes. “Greyworm took them.”

Jaime shakes his head again. “You’re in no condition to chase after anyone, let Jon do it, or Ser Brienne.”

“Jon?” You question. “Where is he?”

“Don’t you hear it?” He says and glances back. “He’s fighting the Queen to get you back.”

You shake your head. “She’ll kill him, she wanted to drag him out—”

“Don’t worry,” he cuts you off. “He’s not alone, he’s brought a whole army with him. I’ve never seen someone determined to get someone back...I envy it.”

The corner of your lips pull to a small smile at the thought of Jon coming after you, at the thought of him fighting for you, but the longer you stay here, the longer you’re apart from them.

“Then he can fight Daenerys,” you retort and pull away from him. “I’ll go after Greyworm and rescue my children. You shouldn’t doubt my determination, Ser Jaime.” You scoff as you begin to walk out of the room, feeling the exhaustion get pushed back as determination and fury replaces it for now.

“You are very stubborn,” Jaime throws out at you as he walks out after you.

However, before you can make it far you stop as you see the bloody bodies of Unsullied soldiers laid on the ground. You don’t feel bad, you’re just impressed that a man with one hand did all this.

“I’m impressed,” you tell the man and bend down to pick up a spear off the ground. “You did well.”

Jaime scoffs. “Not well enough…” he trails off and you glance at his bleeding leg.

“Let me have a—”

“No,” he cuts you off again. “Later. Right now tell me where we’re going. Do you know where Greyworm is taking your kids?”

You drop your gaze and search the ground as you think. “I,” you mutter and blink repeatedly.

Luckily you don’t linger too much in thought because it hits you quickly—There was a battle here now, Daenerys was here to lure you and Jon out so you can bend the knee. If you refused then her plan was taking the babies and forcing you to your knees. So they won’t be here, not so close…

“Kings Landing,” you throw out. “We may have them surrounded, but they can still go in and out, that’s where he’s going.”

Jaime doesn’t question you and nods, letting you add one more thing before you leave. “Thank you, ser Jaime. I owe you my life.”

Jaime shakes his head. “No you don’t. Now come on, my horse isn’t far from here.” He proceeds to grab your arm and begins to lead you out of the castle, and the closer you get outside the more you hear the sound of battle cries, shouts of pain, and clashing metal.

Yet the noise doesn’t compare to what plays in the sky. When you get out of the cover of the ruined castle, there up above rages a beautiful battle between dragons. Their fires light the sky like if thunder and lightning played within the clouds, as if the sun was out hiding within the thick stormy and smoke clouds. It was captivating.

“Here,” Ser Jaime snaps you from your stupor and pulls you to a brown horse. “Can you ride?”

You meet his gaze and nod. “Yes.” Your body fucking hurts, but fuck it.

Ser Jaime helps you mount the horse before he struggles to get on his. Eventually when you make it out on the dirt road, the sound of the battle on the ground grows quieter the further you get, but the sound of the dragons fighting does grow quieter, it doesn’t fade in the distance, their screeches and roars are still heard clearly miles away.

You look up and you can still see them battling, and you also catch someone else beside Rhaegal and Drogon in the sky. You hadn’t heard her at first, it didn’t seem like she was with them either when you first got out of the castle, but you see her now hidden between the clouds. And then she isn’t there.

The fire Drogon blasted out extinguishes, hiding the view of your white scaled dragon. It makes you slow down your horse to watch what comes next as your fascination grows.

However the darkness lingers, letting you not see a thing. You can only hear the sound of Eraxis screech before seconds later it seems that Rheagal blasts out fire next, letting you see Eraxis jaw clamped on Drogon’s neck, and her claws digging in his wing, causing them both to begin twirling down to the ground.

It was awestrucking, but…why was Eraxis there and not searching for you? It’s not like she would pay much mind to the battle without you there to tell her. There was also this anger within her, it was strange and new, it was almost like she was possessed.

Was she perhaps mad that you were gone?

Yeah…maybe that’s it.

Nevertheless, you nudge the horse to pick up its speed once again, letting you catch up to Ser Jaime before there’s a loud thud that shakes the ground.

“What was that?” Jaime asks.

You peer back and smirk softly. “The dragons.”

——

*A FEW MOMENTS LATER*

“Rhaenyra…and undecided. Jon hasn’t chosen a name.”

“Rhaenyra.” He nods softly. “It's a good name for a Queen.”

You smile faintly. “Yes, it is.”

“We’ll save your kids. If that’s the last thing I do,” he assures you, making you pull your gaze away from the dirt road below the green hill you wait on.

“Thank you,” is all you can say again.

Ever since he gave you his word he’s nothing but loyal. It’s more than what you deserve.

“There,” Jaime breaks the short silence and points. You follow his finger and catch a single carriage approaching rapidly. Since it’s dark you don’t see the rider right away, you have to nudge the horse to take a step forward, that’s when you gasp as you catch Greyworm at the front, leading the horse.

“All right, I’ll block him off at the front and you sneak behind him when we begin to fight,” Jaime explains. “As soon as you get those babies, you run out of here and meet Ser Brienne, she’ll be at the south side of the castle. Don’t linger behind, just take them. Understand?”

And leave him to die? He’s not the warrior he once was, it will be like easy practice to Greyworm. Jaime will die.

“I can’t leave you to die!” You snap out with concern.

Jaime meets your gaze and shakes his head. “I’ve told you already, I owe you, don’t worry about me.”

You draw in a deep breath, and just as you’re going to argue, he nudges his horse to run down the hill as Greyworm gets closer. You wait a little longer and just watch Jaime get further down the green hill until he eventually runs out onto the road and blocks the carriage's way, causing Greyworm to come to an immediate halt.

They share a few words from what you can tell, but you’re too far to hear. They actually take a while talking, it begins to make you desperate to reach your babies, but you have to wait until the weapons are drawn.

They better be in there though.

You draw out a deep breath and clench your jaw as you watch them through the darkness the stormy clouds cast. It’s not until a few minutes later that finally Ser Jaime draws out his long Valyrian steel sword that you finally can run down.

The sound of his weapon clashing against Greyworms makes you want to help, but you force yourself to just stop behind the carriage. You don’t look at the battle going on ahead, you try and block out the sound and quickly slide off your horse, causing more pain on your lower body. You then proceed to run to the back of the carriage and throw the doors open, but gasp in surprise as you see two Unsullied soldiers sitting there at both sides of a wooden cradle.

“<Princess,>” one of them says.

You meet his black eyes and counter. “<It's Queen now. Let me take them and I’ll spare your lives.>”

The one on the right laughs and then shakes his head. “<We can’t kill you, but you won’t get these babies if you don’t bend the knee to the true Queen.>”

You reach back for your spear and get ready to talk back, but suddenly one Unsullied soldier jumps out of his seat and throws himself on you, making you fall back on the dirt ground harshly.

You let out a groan, but have no time to dwindle in your new pain because he then presses the stick part of his spear against your throat, cutting off your air circulation, and dulling your other senses.

You try to press back, but he’s stronger right now, he’s angry too, adding to his strength. It seems like he's going to best you, but you manage to slip your hand off his spear and instead throw your hand up and stab your fingers in his eye.

The Unsullied soldier doesn't make any noise, but he throws his head back and stays on top of you, adding more weight on your body as he sits down to grab at his wounded eye.

The other Unsullied peeks his head out and notices his injured companion and throws out a curse before he reaches back for his spear. Fuck.

He can’t join this damn fight or you’ll never win. Fuck. Okay.

You look at your side to search for your weapon, but find it too far out of reach. The weapon of the man you just fought is at your feet and he’s sitting on your legs, so you can’t get it. Fuck!

Okay….

Out of desperation to reach your newborn children, you pump yourself with as much fury and adrenaline as you can muster and throw your upper body up to sink your teeth on the soldier's throat. The soldier stiffens, and just as he tries to claw at you, you pull back and yank off a part of his throat with your teeth, causing the other soldier to suddenly stiffen in surprise.

You use that though and push the now dead man off your body to swipe his spear off the floor. You then quickly hurl it at the second soldier’s chest still on the carriage.

Now that they’re both dealt with you push yourself off the ground and stumble towards the carriage. You still hear Greyworm and Jaime fighting ahead, which is impressive that the one handed soldier is holding out so long, but you can’t stop, he told you not to, so you keep ignoring it and climb onto the back that now holds the wooden cradle.

“Rhaenyra. My love,” you mutter out and don’t care about your appearance, or that you’re hurt, you reach them and look in, seeing both of them there, sleeping peacefully as if nothing is happening around them. “I’m here,” you assure them even if they’re sleeping. “I’m here,” you smile. You reach down to pick them up, but just as you do you catch a glimpse of the fight happening ahead, and see Greyworm stab his spear through Jaime’s stomach with a violent blow that knocks the one handed knight right off his feet.

You’re told not to, you’re supposed to just take the twins and leave, but he’s sacrificed so much, he’s been kind and loyal, he’s been a friend surprisingly enough, you can’t help your heart from sinking and your feet from taking you to him bleeding out on the ground.

“Ser Jaime,” you whisper and cradle his face to turn it towards you. “I can still help you. Just…don’t take the blade off.”

The man swallows thickly and shakes his head. “No,” he grunts. “No...Princess,” he mutters. “My time here is done. I…tried to keep my promise now. Just go.”

Tears wells your eyes and you regardlessly press on his wound to stop the blood from trickling down. “No…you have to see your brother. He’ll be waiting. You have to live and…and still watch over me. That’s an order.”

He scoffs and then coughs out blood. “Tell my brother…” he trails off and continues to cough out more blood, darker this time. “Tell him that I love him…that no matter what I will always look out for him.”

You nod even if you don’t want to accept his death.

“And you…” he continues and cups your hand with his gloved one. “It was an honor serving you…Queen. Your mother would be proud…of the women you are…don’t let her down okay? I’m sorry…I couldn’t protect her, or you. I’m sorry.”

You whimper and shake your head. “I forgive you. It’s thanks to you that I found my children. You did good…it was an honor having you as my protector.”

The corner of his lips tug up slightly, causing blood to begin trickling out from the corner of his mouth. His breaths begin to go ragged, and his hand falls off your hand and lands on his sword's handle. He then drifts his eyes to it and then points his eyes behind you.

You’re confused at first, but you blink and peer back, understanding now that he’s pointing at Greyworm. He’s telling you to kill him.

Greyworm was kind to Rhaenar without question, he was kind to you. But he ripped your newborn babies out of your arms and took them, he’s not on your side anymore, he’s just another enemy. A causality, and Daenerys only friend now. It’s a message to her from you.

That makes killing him much easier.

Albeit, just as you’re going to reach over for the sword, Greyworm comes over and pulls his spear out of Jaime’s stomach, causing blood to pour out of the wound and only pushing Jaime closer to death. And fueling your anger.

So just as Greyworm is walking back to the carriage you reach over for Ser Jaime’s Valyrian steel sword and clutch it in your hands.

Now usually you prefer spears, they’re lighter, easier to use, but your spear is too far away and well, this blade is better than Greyworm’s spear. It’s actually a lot lighter than you expected Valyrian steel to be too.

“Why do you mourn for a man who stabbed your grandfather in the back, and chose his own reputation over being loyal to you?” Greyworm spats out.

You exhale through your nose and slowly push up the sword from the ground. “That man was no grandfather of mine,” you counter spitefully. “I’m glad that he got stabbed in the back, he deserved far worse. But perhaps I’ll save that for Daenerys.” You snicker.

Greyworm spins around and growls out of anger, only making you smirk as you meet his gaze with a taunting glare.

“I won’t fight you,” Greyworm quickly tells you without letting his anger get the best of him. “It won’t be a fair fight, and the Queen wants you alive.”

You lose your taunting look, and slowly begin to scowl at the man as you remain on your knees with the swords tip nailed against the ground, and the handle in your hand. The blood that was drying on your lips and chin only made your look more intimidating, but he still doesn’t flinch.

“Then you’re a coward,” you spat back. “It’s fine, it'll make this fight easier.” You breathe out and slowly begin to use the sword's weight to push yourself up to your feet.

Greyworm remains collected and actually throws his spear at your feet. You glance at it and sigh deeply in annoyance before you meet his gaze and kick the spear at him. You then raise your chin and point at him as you shift your feet to get in a battle ready stance.

Before he can once again turn you down you charge at him and swing the sword. Greyworm quickly blocks your attack with his blade and then manages to push you back. He then doesn’t falter or turn away, he swings at your stomach, but you slide back. He then counters with another swing, but you throw your head back and avoid the blade.

You proceed to swing at his legs, but he shuffles back and thrashes his arm to the side, letting you quickly throw your arms up and clash the blade against his. You proceed to meet his gaze and shoot him a smirk before you lift your leg and shove him back. You don’t lose your momentum and use all your strength to swing the blade across his chest.

Greyworm however catches your attempts and tries to block them, but in doing so he fails to clash the blade against yours, causing the Valyrian steel sword to cut his wooden spear in half and the tip to cut his cheek.

You’re shocked by your actions, but can’t help but smirk proudly. Whilst Greyworm touches his cut and looks at the coat of blood that stains his fingers, he then blinks and knits his eyebrows together as he looks up at you in surprise.

“<Lucky you,” you throw at him in high Valyrian as you begin to walk back. “You’ll meet your gods today.>” Once you reach the spot where you had fought the other soldiers, you pick up your spear and throw at his feet. “<Lets end this.>” You sneer and twist your blade around your hand.

A faint smirk appears on Greyworms lips before he picks up the spear and lunges forward and swings down. You quickly jump back to avoid being hit, and then counterattack. Greyworm albeit blocks your action and pushes you back.

“<Your ancestor should be proud,” Greyworm throws out in Valyrian as he spins the spear in his hand. “You’ve learned well. You make a mighty warrior.>

You huff out, and then charge at him. Just as you get close you jump off your feet and throw the sword down. Greyworm nevertheless avoids the blade and quickly counters by lunging the spear at your side.

Luckily you twist your body and miss being hit, and before he can pull back you turn your hand around and capture his handle.

Greyworm’s eyes snap at you in surprise, you shoot him a smirk and try to stab him, but he’s stronger than you now so he manages to yank the spear out of your hold.

And just as he steps back suddenly his body jerks up, and he lets out a groan. You falter and watch him in confusion, however you then see the cause of this sudden halt when you notice Ser Jaime on his knees behind Greyworm, and with Greyworm’s own broken spear stabbed through his own back.

How did Jaime muster the strength to get up?

Who knows, but you’re thankful.

So before Greyworm can react, you use both hands to hold the sword and charge at him. You lift the sword in your hand as you approach him, and the moment you get close enough you open your mouth to let out a mighty battle cry as you swing the sword across Greyworm’s neck. And since the blade is sharp and made out of the toughest steel, the blade cuts clean across, cutting his head right off his shoulders. Ending this battle, and causing Jaime to fall back.

You first make sure no one is approaching before you run to Jaime and cup his cheek. “Thank you, Ser Jaime,” you mumble. “You did well.”

Jaime’s eyes begin to flutter close, and his breath begins to slow down. He musters enough strength to grab your hand and add one more thing. “Thank you...” he trails off and his eyes close, his chest rises once more as he takes his final breath, and then it sinks for the last time.

——

*LATER*

The air wasn’t filled with battle cries anymore, there’s no cries of pain, or metal slinging. There’s no fire brightening up the sky red, there’s no dragons flying either. It’s not quiet or calm, but it seems that the battle had come to an end. Actually the castle people say is cursed doesn’t stand as tall as it once did moments ago, there are towers that are missing, walls are gone and turned to rubble and debris.

Where once stood a haunted mighty castle now remains crushed walls, and smoke.

It’s sort of fascinating, in a weird and creepy way.

“Halt right there!”

You rip your eyes away from the ruined castle and see Ser Brienne, Ser May and Ser Marizelizabeth come out of hiding from behind rubble to point their weapons at you.

“It’s okay—”

“My Queen,” Ser Brienne cuts you off right away and doesn’t hesitate to drop on her knee.

“Queen,” The others mutter and mirror their commander's action.

You bring the carriage to halt and offer them a nod. “At ease.”

However, neither of them rise.

“Forgive me your Grace,” Ser Brienne shares with her eyes on the ground. “I failed to keep you safe, they took you because of my incompetence. I understand if you want to remove me from my rank.”

You slide off the carriage and approach Ser Brienne. “It was not your fault. It was no one’s fault,” you assure her and touch her shoulder. “No one could have known. So please don’t blame yourselves, that’s an order.”

The three of them look at you, and Ser Brienne hesitates, but it was an order so she listens and doesn’t press on the matter, instead she and the others stand up and examine you.

“Ser May,” Ser Brienne orders over her shoulder after she caught the blood on your face and on your gown. “Fetch the maester.”

“Wait,” you call out before she can run off. “While you do fetch Jon too. I have something I need to show him.” You smile, but it falters. “He is fine right?”

Brienne nods. “Worried,” she assures you. “That’s all.”

You let out a relieved sigh and nod with a happy grin painted on your face. “Good. Go then.”

Ser May runs off to go as she’s told, letting you now address the problems. “Catch me up,” you direct at the pair of knights as you turn to head to the back of the carriage.

“King Jon,” Ser Brienne doesn’t falter. “He came with an army of men when he heard of your disappearance. While Arya, Sarella, Ser Davos and Lord Royce led the battle on the ground, Jon fought Daenerys in the sky.”

You hum and stop as you reach the doors.

“The battle didn’t last long,” she continues. “We lost some warriors, but they lost more.”

“Good,” you comment.

“It seems Daenerys was injured in battle after her dragon fell from the sky. That’s when the battle on the ground ended because her men retreated. Albeit not before Drogon lay waste on the castle.”

She was injured?

You swallow thickly and find yourself lost between feeling guilt and pride.

“Her dragon was hurt too, badly may I add,” Brienne adds, but you knew that, you saw that as you were chasing after Greyworm—“when they were retreating, King Jon, and your dragon….burned probably a third of her army.”

You blink in surprise and look over at her to share your disbelief. You don’t say anything, you’re just shocked he’d do something like that, especially that Eraxis would dare do something like that without your command.

“Is that all?” You probe and grab the door handles.

Ser Brienne nods, letting you sigh and look at the doors with a faint smile. “Ser Marielizabeth, if you may. May you please ride to the gates of Kings landing and…” you trail off to open the doors and pick up the sack that held Greyworm’s head. “Leave this at the gates for Daenerys,” you continue. “Make sure she gets it and then ride back to Sunspear.”

“Sunspear?” She queries.

You meet her gaze and nod. “Aye. A third of her army is gone, her Master of War is dead, she and her dragon are injured, we can’t return to Winterfell now that we have the advantage. We have to remain close to attack soon and end this war.” You grab the sack and give it to your knight. “Take care, alright?”

She nods and turns away to go get ready, letting you face Ser Brienne with a frown as you see her studying the body covered with a tarp.

“Ser Brienne,” you mutter and grab her hand. “I'm sorry. Ser Jaime….he…He’s passed.”

The tall woman knight drops her head and blinks repeatedly as you know grief and disbelief strikes her heart. She keeps her hand in your grasp and just swallows thickly before meeting your gaze with red eyes as she fought the need to cry.

“It would please me if you took his body and sword to his brother, you can grieve him as you please, and then go to Sunspear with the Hand.”

Brienne shakes her head. “No,” she argues. “I need to stay by your side, protect you. I can’t go, I’ll have someone else go. I can grieve him alone. By your side.”

You draw in a deep breath and hold her gaze for a second as you debate arguing with her. But it is her choice so you sigh and nod. “As you please. Have three Knights of the Queens guard take the body and sword so they can return with Lady Sansa.”

“Y/N?!” Your name is called out as you finish giving Ser Brienne an order, and when you snap your eyes past her body you spot Jon; his face is caked in blood, and his hair is down, he looks exhausted, but he’s a relief to see, he’s the very sun missing from the sky today.

“Jon,” you call out and break away from your spot to run to him.

Said man instantly meets you halfway without a fault and captures you an embrace. “Oh my love,” he whispers. “I was so worried,” he whispers as he holds the back of your head and hugs you tighter.

You laugh softly out of exciment, and pull back to kiss him over the dry blood. He deepens the kiss, and you linger in his taste for a moment before you pull back and grab his chin to study his face for any injuries.

“It’s not my blood,” he assures you and grabs your chin too as he sees the dry blood stained over your lips and chin.

“Not mine,” you mirror.

“Good,” he says and reaches for your belly that hasn’t gone down, but you grab his hand and grin at him. “Come with me. I need to introduce you to a pair of twins.”

Jon’s face quickly twists in confusion, but before he can ask, you pull him to the back of the carriage, and then inside where the cradle is. He’s hesitant to approach, he still looks puzzled, so you beam brighter and reach down to pick them up.

“Jon,” you whisper since Rhaenyra remains asleep, “meet Rhaenyra and your son.” You turn around to show them off, noticing that his eyes are locked on Rhaenyra fast asleep and the boy watching you. He looks surprised, but that slowly falls as the boy begins to complain and squirm.

Jon then approaches you and pulls the sheet down to see their faces.

“They’re okay,” you assure him. “Healthy. They’ve just lived an adventure now. Isn’t that right?” You ask the baby boy. “But you’re here now. With your mother and father.” You peek over at Jon and see that he carries a soft smile that matches his softened eyes that are welled with tears.

“May I hold them?” He asks and meets your gaze.

You giggle and nod. “Of course, my love. Here,” you whisper and carefully hand the twins to him.

Just as you’re going to pull your arms away, Jon stops you. “Wait, I don’t want to drop ‘em. Just—”

“Jon,” you cut him off softly. “It’s okay. You won’t. You won’t.” You very slowly pull your hands away, but keep them close for a second to let him know that he was okay. That they won’t just fall from his hands. “See. It’s okay.”

Jon scoffs, and then looks down at the twins with a lovestruck gaze. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and your mother when you were born. I’m sorry. I’m here now though, I’m never letting you leave my sight.” He laughs softly and meets your gaze with tears rolling down his cheeks. “They’re so beautiful. Rhaenrya, she has your hair.”

You nod and then rest your chin on his shoulder as you watch him with awe. “They both have your eyes. They’re beautiful.”

Jon nods and then presses a kiss on your forehead. “You did good, my brave girl. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, I’m sorry you had to do it alone. Forgive me.”

You shake your head, “there’s nothing to forgive, it’s not your fault. They’re here now, alive and healthy, that's all that matters.”

Jon licks his lips to get ready to argue, but then his name and yours is called out. “Jon? Y/N?!”

It’s Arya. Her footsteps race around the carriage, but once she reaches the back and sees Jon holding two bundles she stiffens and gasps.

Jon and you share a happy look before he motions her to come in. She hesitates but then jumps in and meets her niece and nephew.

“Look at them,” she whispers with awe as she reaches her finger for the boy's hand. “Hi. I’m Arya, your—” she cuts herself off and gasps as the baby boy holds her finger. “I’m your aunt,” she continues with a beaming smile. “Your best aunt.”

Jon laughs softly, and then shares a passing look with you before he looks at the twins and parts his lips to whisper. “Arya, meet Rhaenyra and Robb.” He smiles softly.

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarssluts @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

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chloe-skywalker · 4 months

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Game Of Thrones Masterlist

Main Masterlist

House Of The Dragon Masterlist

By @chloe-skywalker

*= Requested

Jaime Lannister:

~ Challenge

~ Consequences

~ Pain

~ Better Man

~ Protection

Robb Stark:

~ For You

~ Give Them A Chance

~ Propersituations Part #1

~ Propersituations Part #2

Daenerys Targaryen:

~ Your Side (x sister Y/n)

Tormund Giantsbane:

~ You Would Think

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k4marina · 3 months

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heart of the dragon sneak peak :)

here's a little peak at the next chapter of heart of the dragon 🙈

On the far left, where the line of paintings began was a family portrait. There was writing engraved on a golden plaque underneath the painting.

“Aenar Targaryen, First Lord of Dragonstone.

Gaemon Targaryen and Daenys Targaryen.”

Underneath Aenar’s and his two children's names were the names of his many wives, five to be exact. I haphazardly read through the names, most of which were of Valyrian women, a few from different areas of Essos.

“Vellela Irnoran, that’s most likely from the Free Cities, Naqari Ghe- shit, how do I say this? Ghezihl, oof, that has to be Ghiscari. Jelaehna Vellar..ys.”

Jelaehna Vellarys. Jelaehna Vellarys. Vel-lar-ys.

“No fucking way.”

lmk what u guys think !

@wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @ministark @laanswife

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brightlilith · 11 months

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MASTERLIST

Request open

Navegation

MCU

Peter Parker

Natasha Romanoff

Wanda Maximoff

Bucky Barnes

Masterlist

WEDNESDAY

Wednesday Addams

Enid Sinclair

Ajax Petropulus

Masterlist

COBRA KAI

Robby Keene

Miguel Diaz

Samantha Larusso

Tory Nichols

Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz

Masterlist

TVD-Universe

Klaus Mikaelson

Damon Salvatore

Stefan Salvatore

Elijah Mikaelson

Caroline Forbes

Elena Gilbert

Bonnie Bennett

Hope Mikaelson

Rebekah Mikaelson

Hayley Marshall

TVD

SUPERNATURAL

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Masterlist

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

Daemon Targaryen

Rhaenyra Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen

Jacaerys Targaryen

Alicent Hightower

Aegon II Targaryen

Masterlist

GAME OF THRONES

Daenerys Targaryen

Masterlist

CRIMINAL MINDS

Spencer Reid

Jennifer Jereau

Emily Prentiss

Masterlist

THE MARVELOUS MRS MAISEL

Lenny Bruce

Miriam Maisel

Masterlist

ACTOR/ACTRESS & SINGER'S

Jensen Ackles

Jenna Ortega

Tokio Hotel

More will be added as requests are placed!

I will do NOT write

Threesome

Male!reader

Tv show couples ex: Damon Salvatore x Elena Gilbert

Yandere

Romanticization of mental health, eating disorders, depression, any type of self harm, physical abuse, any forced sexual activities, any hate towards LGBTQ People/Rights, any hate towards Transgendered people/Rights, or any hate towards race.

Pedophilia, or activities, child abuse and more.

These NSFW themes - A/B/O, humiliation/degrading kink and more Pregnancies Incest (with the exception of got and hotd)

Characters with some physical disability (nothing against it, I just wouldn’t want to write it wrong)

Black!reader or plus size!reader (nothing against it, I wouldn't want to offend something I don't know.)

If you want to be added to the tag list, send me a message!🩷

Is there anything you'd like to see in the future from my blog?

Note: Depending on what it is, I might be able to make it happen. All I ask is that you ask kindly.

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icarusignite · 1 year

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An Eye for an Eye (part 10)

A/N: So the next update will be after December 20. I have finals coming up that I really need to study for T_T Comments and reblogs are appreciated, I love hearing y'alls thoughts <3

Word Count: 2264

All chapters: MASTERLIST

The sun was just beginning to rise when Daenys set off for Storm's End. The waters below her were deceptively calm as she flew her dragon, and everything seemed peaceful enough. If she closed her eyes, the crisp morning air felt soothing against her face, and for a moment she could pretend that she was simply going out on a leisurely morning ride. The occasional stinging twitch in her face was remedied by the frequent sips from the flask at her waist. She had been working throughout the previous night to perfect the proportions in the tonic, making slight variations to the maester's original recipe, and now it suited her perfectly. She gazed at the horizon and took a moment to enjoy the delicate pastel colours that covered the sky. Then she turned her eye towards the fast-approaching ground. Silverwing landed in the courtyard with a mighty roar and Daenys smiled at the slight flinching of one of the knights stationed outside. She climbed off and walked towards them, her head held high. Vengeance had never felt so close.

"I am Princess Daenys Valaryon, and I bring a message to Lord Borros from Queen Rhaenyra," she declared.

The knights nodded and led her inside. It felt strangely nostalgic, even though Daenys had never been to Storm's End. But something inside her felt close to Lucerys here, walking across the same gravel courtyard he did, and climbing up the same stone steps. Making the same journey, one that would end differently she vowed. Once the knights had announced her presence she finally turned her attention to Lord Borros. Just looking at him sitting there on his throne with that air of arrogance made her blood boil. When his glance fell upon her, he smirked.

"Well well well. Look who we have here. Another one of Rhaenyra's pups."

"It is Queen Rhaenyra," Daenys snapped, scowling.

"The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it, or perhaps it is only a certain branch of the house that is not aware of the circumstances. There is a King now. King Aegon Targaryen, second of his name," he snickered.

"That is what I'm here regarding. To give you another opportunity to pledge fealty to Queen Rhaenyra and her right to the throne. Given your late father's loyalty and goodwill, your past impudence will be forgiven."

"Well, I never...the insolence!" Lord Borros sputtered. "The disrespect that she shows House Baratheon, reminding me of my father's loyalty, and taking mine for granted."

"This kindness is all you deserve to be shown Lord Borros. After breaking your house's sacred oaths. Or did you forget that your family swore their swords and banners when King Viserys named Queen Rhaenyra as heir? Is treason really that effortless?" Daenys mocked, rage running hot in her veins.

"Listen, you foolish girl. I'll tell you exactly what I told your brother before you. Tell your mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not some dog she can whistle up at need to set against her foes."

"How dare yo-"

"King Aegon has promised the hand of his son, the crown prince Jaehaerys to one of my daughters. I would be a fool to reject such a generous offer."

"Jaehaerys ?" Daenys looked bewildered. "Jaehaerys is just barely out of infancy."

"A crown prince is a crown prince. It will still ensure that my bloodline will one day sit on the iron throne. A Baratheon will be king in the future."

"I am not here to bargain or barter with you. Only to present my mother's message of goodwill. I strongly urge you to accept her terms Lord Borros, for mine will not be as generous."

"Rhaenyra should really stop sending more of her children here disguised as diplomats. You would think she'd have learned her lesson after what happened to the last one, but no, Rhaenyra was never one for common sense. It is obvious that the progeny of House Hightower is not to be trifled with," Lord Borros sneered and Daenys's jaw tightened, sending a stab of pain through the left half of her face.

"My brother died on your lands. If you cannot take responsibility, then the least you can do is speak my mother's name with respect. She is the Queen of Westeros and the 7 Kingdoms, and you will refer to her as such!"

"Ah, Rhaenyra really outdid herself this time," Lord Borros emphasized his usage of her just her name. "She sent me a petulant little girl to argue matters of state. This is why I support the male heir over a daughter. Women are simply unfit to rule. Go home and tend to your husband, little lady, we are done here," Lord Borros spoke condescendingly, waving his hand to dismiss her.

That was the breaking point of her patience. With a snarl, Daenys unsheathed the sword at her side and took a step towards the lord lounging on his throne. Immediately the knights around her also pulled out their weapons and pointed them toward her. She appraised them with an unbothered look.

"I would not advise picking a fight princess. My sentries have received the best training there is. You don't stand a chance. And it is certainly no way to convince me of an alliance."

"I am done trying to beg for an alliance with a man who has no honour," Daenys voice came out soft and measured.

"You come into my home and threaten me. And then you say that I am the one without honour? It seems as though Rhaenyra needs to teach her children manners," he was outraged.

Daenys blinked at him before continuing to stalk toward the throne, "My brother was the most well-behaved there ever was. Look at what became of him."

Only when she raised her sword, did the nearest knight bring his own toward her. She was faster though, spinning around in a heartbeat and skewering him through the middle. She looked back at the aghast Lord Borros.

"You...you cannot come in here and threaten the inhabitants of this land. Guards, seize her!" he stumbled over his words.

Daenys only grinned as the men advanced. It had been a while since her last real fight and the monster of vengeance within her reared its head, craving bloodshed. It took her a total of 10 minutes to raze them, the sound of their swords clashing making her ears ring in a way that excited her. They exchanged many blows, slashing and parrying until all the men lay at her feet. Her blood was singing with the after-effects of her specially brewed tonic, and it gave her access to energy she didn't even know she possessed any more. When she was done, she stood panting in the midst of a mountain of corpses, drenched in their blood from head to toe. She casually wiped her sword on her tunic and examined its blade.

"Hmm, it's still sharp enough for one more kill," she glanced up. "Now Lord Baratheon, are you willing to reconsider your alliance with Queen Rhaenyra?"

"King Aegon will not stand for this. The Baratheons are his allies. He will send men to deal with you. You and your mother will face retribution for harming me. He will send his brother the Kinslayer. No one crosses him and lives to tell the tale. Just ask your brother, princess."

Something in Daenys snapped and she surged forward, wedging her sword under Lord Borros's neck, the blade pressed tightly just below his jugular.

"I will deal with Aemond Targaryen when the time comes," she spat venomously.

"You are no match for him. They don't call him the Kinslayer for nothing," Lord Borros returned.

"Killing my brother gave him that title! It is not a fearsome one to be boasted about. It is a brand for killing a child. A child!" Daenys finally allowed herself to raise her voice.

She adjusted her sword to press closer against Lord Borros's throat, a line of red welling up and staining the weapon anew.

"Now, tell me, which of your beautiful daughters is your heir?" she asked, surveying the stricken girls frozen in fear in the corner of the room.

Lord Borros scoffed, "Are you deaf in addition to being reckless? Did you not hear me? Women are unfit to rule. Why would I choose any of these wretches as my heir."

"How disappointing, this makes my job so much harder," Daenys gestured for one of the girls to come closer.

The girl who looked to be the oldest eventually shuffled toward her, her head bowed low. Daenys told her to bring her parchment and writing utensils which she did so obediently.

"Wait...what are you doing?" Borros stuttered trying to keep himself still to avoid the sword from burying itself further into his throat.

"Just drafting up a quick decree," Daenys wrote hastily before turning the document toward him.

Lord Borros looked at her in confusion. His eyes grew even wider when she removed her sword from his neck and made a quick slice across his index finger. She then took his bloody fingertip and pressed it to the bottom of the paper.

"I don't think you would have willingly signed it, even if you could read it. Your seal would have been better but this will do for now," Daenys scorned, moving her weapon to its prior position. "Now I am really done with you."

"What-"

Lord Borros interrupted his own words with a scream that ended abruptly. Daenys's sword had made a pristine stroke and so his death was a quick one, but it was most definitely not clean. Blood burst out of his severed neck and sprayed her in a fresh layer of red over the already drying dark crimson. She took a sideways glance at his daughters and they all looked to be on varying levels of nauseated and terrified.

"Which one of you is the oldest Baratheon daughter?" Daenys stepped down from the dais where Lord Borros's body lay cooling and held out the paper that held his bloody fingerprint.

The dark-haired girl who had retrieved the parchment for her stepped forward once again. This time she had the courage to look Daenys in the eye.

"I am Cassandra Baratheon, my princess."

"This belongs to you. You may do with it as you see fit," Daenys handed her the parchment.

The girl read its contents and gasped, "What is this? How can it be?"

"Since Lord Borros is dead, the seat of House Baratheon goes to his heir. Since he had no male heir and named no female, it would go to his next of kin. However, I see no reason why any of his daughters should not make a perfectly adequate head of the house. If you wish, the seat is yours. You have a declaration stating that prior to his demise, your father named you, his oldest daughter, as his heir."

"But I have never... Father did not provide us with the education befitting an heir..." Cassandra frowned.

"I don't see why that should hinder you. You will have the support of Queen Rhaenyra as well as the personal help of the Queen's sword. All I ask in return is that you support the true Queen of Westeros," Daenys smiled, trying to appear less intimidating, but she didn't know how effectively she could do that being covered in blood.

"Yes, princess. Of course. You will have the undying loyalty of House Baratheon. For all that you have done, you will have that and more," Cassandra gave her a strained smile, and Daenys could see the gears turning in the girl's head, making the most out of this new opportunity.

"Good. It would have been quite an inconvenience to come and threaten the next man to grace that throne," Daenys glanced at Lord Borros's body.

Cassandra averted her eyes and Daenys muttered a soft apology. She felt bad for the fact that the girls had witnessed the scene. The youngest looked to be only 11, somewhere around Joffrey's age.

"I must take my leave now. I leave House Baratheon in your capable hands Lady Cassandra Baratheon."

"Wait, you are leaving? I must invite you to stay the night, to make use of our hospitality. At least stay to clean up and take a moment of respite."

"There is nothing to repay. And I know it may not mean much coming from me, but I am sorry about your father," Daenys spoke gently.

"It is war princess. In times of war, extreme measures must be taken for the good of the people. And besides, he was never very good at being a father," there was cold anger in the girl's eyes and Daenys wondered what kind of relationship she had with her lord father.

"I will be back soon. With reinforcements. And to see how you are faring. I must return to inform my mother of our new alliance. I wish you all the best my lady," Daenys tipped her head in respect.

"And I to you princess," Cassandra returned the gesture.

As Daenys flew back to Dragonstone, she took several gulps of her tonic and exhaled sharply. She thought this would have made her feel better. That it would fill the empty ache in her chest where Lucerys resided but somehow it had only made it worse. The emptiness became sharper and she wondered if Lucerys would think her a monster after learning of her actions. Would he have hated her if he had known that she was capable of this? She supposed there was a twisted comfort in not knowing. In the fact that her darling little brother never had to witness her becoming this murderous thing and that he only ever had good memories of her.

________________

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valaenatargaryensdragon · 11 months

Note

Hii about dark daemon and Alicent daughter can u do part 2 like daemon actually wear green to Otto funeral or something like that and shown Rhaenyra were his aliance lies.

A/N: I hope you like it!

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x niece!Reader

summary: Part 2 Alicent daughter, like daemon actually wear green to Otto funeral or something like that and shown Rhaenyra were his alliance lies.

Word count: 5,4K

Warnings: Smut, Angst, fingering, P in V, cunnilingus, blow job, deep throating, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, orgasm control, cum play

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

You felt numb as the maids around you prepared you for your grandsire's funeral. You and him were close ever since you were young, he was usually the one to check on you after a fight with your mother or when you felt down. You still remembered an emerald necklace he had given you when you were ten, he had gifted it to you on your nameday, that day instead of celebrating you were crying in your room after Aegon had teased your about you still sleeping with a doll, the necklace used to belong to your grandmother. You decided to wear it the funeral whether Daemon liked it or not.

"All ready, princess" Keila, your handmaiden broke your train of thoughts. Your eyes snapped from watching the emerald necklace around your neck to look at her.

"Thank you, you may leave" You gave her a weak smile. She bowed and ushered the other maids out, all of them giving you eyes filled with pity before leaving. You sighed and turned to look at the mirror in front of you, your simple black dress with a green belt matching the emerald around your neck, there was also a golden dragon embroidered over the left side of your chest, looked beautiful on you but still.

The sound of the door opening again made you turn to see who it was that came. Your breath got caught in your through at the sight of Daemon walking in with your son in his arms. His outfit was black with a green neckline and sleeves. There was a golden dragon embroidered on his chest matching your own. Daemon was matching you showing where his loyalty truly was. Vaenys wore a matching outfit to his father and his platinum hair was brushed to the side still too little to be styled otherwise.

"Muña!" Vaenys squealed the only word he can say. Daemon huffed rolling his eyes playfully at his son. His fingers tickled his small belly earning a giggle.

"My darling" You smiled a little. You walked over to the two and took Vaenys from Daemon. The little boy's arms latched around your neck in a vice grip, hugging you tightly.

"Muña" he whispered before he started babbling as if he was telling your something. You pulled back a little to look at his face frowning a little as if you were truly understanding what he said.

"He is telling on me, is he not?" Daemon joked, one of his hands rested on Vaenys' head giving him a small pat on the head. Vaenys giggled swatting his father's hand away.

"Oh yes defiantly. He was telling me that his father and himself-" You wiggled the toddler a little earning giggles from the movement. "-look quite dashing in the color green" Your eyes rose to look at Daemon.

"We do, do we not?" Daemon looked down at his outfit smoothing down the velvet. Up close you could see some swirls of green mixed into the black as well other than the fully green sleeves.

"You do" You nodded in confirmation. Daemon smiled slightly and leaned down to steal a quick kiss from your lips. Vaenys huffed and his face in your neck. Daemon wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you closer to deepen the kiss before fully pulling away.

"Let us depart before we grow even more late" Daemon guided you out of the room. The Red Keep was in a somber silence, even the servants did not gossip while walking around much to your shock.

Your grandfather was going to have a normal funeral considering he was no Targaryen. Daemon had his arm around your waist guiding you through the corridors the entire time, not wanting you to feel alone for a second. He wanted you to see that he was going to be by your side through your good days and your bad days.

"Your grace" You curtsied to your father once outside where everyone was waiting beside the carriages to take you to the great sept. Your father nodded weakly at you, smiling as much as he can at Vaenys, your son that was named in his honour along with princess Rhaenys, the queen who never was.

"Darling" Your mother smiled as much as she can as well looking at the emerald necklace Vaenys was playing with now. Her eyes trailed to Daemon by your side nodding at him, her eyes brightened at the sight of his outfit knowing Aegon had one more ally, once more dragon.

"Shall we depart then?" Rhaenyra asked, sounding annoyed. She paused by your father's side taking you and Daemon in. Her eyes trailed from you to him and back, slowly analysing you from head to toes.

"Of course, niece" Daemon nodded, coldly. He reached over to take Vaenys from your arms so you can climb into the open carriage. You took your seat to face forward before Daemon joined you by your side and Vaenys in his lap.

"Are you okay?" Daemon asked. You placed your hand on his thigh squeezing almost painfully when Rhaenyra joined you with Laenor and sat in front of you.

"Yes" You simply answered. Your eyes remained watching your sister who was eyeing your husband unashamedly. The carriage slowly rolled out of the Red Keep and into the streets where crowds had been formed in honour of your grandsire.

No one uttered a word, whether in the carriage or on the streets. The air was filled with the sounds of the horse hooves. Your heart was squeezing in your chest at the sight of your grandsire's corpse being transported. There was one carriage before yours holding your mother, father, Aegon, Aemond and Helaena.

Daemon moved Vaenys to sit on his lap and held him with one arm and his free hand trailed to grab yours over his thigh. Rhaenyra's eyes trailed down at the movement and flashed with discomfort at the action. Her eyes trailed back up to you with her lips downwards.

"Is there something wrong, Rhaenyra?" You asked, earning the attention of all three adults with you in the carriage. Rhaenyra's eyes flashed up to look at yours instead of your hand in Daemon's.

"No sister, I am merely saddened by the passing of the Hand, he was a loyal man" Your sister faked a smiled and turned to look at the crowd. You scoffed and turned to look at Daemon who was smirking at your reaction. He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

"It seems you are the one with a problem, darling" His lips ghosted the skin behind your ear for a second before he placed a kiss there. Your whole body shivered at the affectionate gesture.

"I do not have any problems, Daemon" You denied, shaking your head. Daemon tilted his head teasingly before his eyes snapped to Rhaenyra then back to you. You huffed shaking your head as if you could not handle his teasing anymore. Daemon had to suppress a chuckle at your reaction. He pulled your hand up and placed a delicate kiss to your knuckles.

The carriage arrived at the sept faster than you thought it would. Laenor and Rhaenyra got out first followed by Daemon who still held Vaenys. He helped you down the steps careful. Daemon was a brute, he was a rogue, he was a fighter, he was many things but that day he was your husband, the father of your son Vaenys and your unborn child, he was a gentleman, he was merely Daemon.

"Why did you leave so fast?" Daemon questioned. After the funeral you basically ran away from the feast held in your grandsire's honour, a somber occasion where people kept toasting him and remembering his best moments.

"I was in no mood to listen to those liars who always spoke of him behind his back and now acting as if they were the best of friends when he has passed" You hissed. You swayed Vaenys from side to side, the toddler's eyes dropping quickly after such a long day and in need of a nap.

"Oh darling, I understand it can be hard but sometimes you have to listen and ignore" Daemon wrapped his arms around you from behind. His hands rested on your stomach and his chin on your shoulder to look down at your son. Vaenys' little snores made your heart flutter, it was like he was your only light in the world.

"I was just not feeling like it today" You responded. Daemon nodded slightly, his head moving to dip his face in the area between your shoulder and neck, placing a chaste kiss there. You sighed content with the affection he was showing you.

"Let us go to our room then, hide there from those 'liars'" Daemon suggested. You nodded moving to place Vaenys in his cradle. He took your hand into his once Vaenys was secure in his bed and pulled you out of the room.

The maids at the door bowed before moving into the room to watch over your son. Daemon walked slowly and in no rush knowing you were tired simply from the grief.

"Uncle" A voice you were beginning to hate called from behind you forcing you to stop and turn. Rhaenyra hurried over to the both of you with a raised eyebrow.

"Where are you both going? The feats is not over yet" Rhaenyra crossed her arms looking like she was scolding the both of you.

"My wife and I are exhausted from the day niece and the Queen has excused us from staying" Daemon answered. He pulled you closer to wrap his arm around your shoulder. You almost melted right then and there.

"I see, do you need anything? shall I send the maids over?" Rhaenyra asked, faking her worry. One of her hands moved to rub your shoulder as well. You looked at her hand as if disgusted by it.

"My wife has always been sensitive during pregnancies, niece, no need for any maids I will care for her" Daemon was quick to shut her down. Something you have never witnessed him do before. You turned to look at him. He smiled down at you gently. His actions made a fire begin to ignite in your belly and a wetness to form between your thighs.

"Oh, you're with child?" She sounded saddened slightly. Rhaenyra was loosing Daemon to you. You married him. You gave him a son. You were going to give him another. You fulfilled his dream of. Valyrian wife. He even wore your colors, green.

"Yes, and I wish to rest" You nodded. Daemon nodded one last at Rhaenyra before guiding you away from her, still wrapped in his arms.

Once in the safety of your room Daemon did not hesitate to push you against the wall. You gasped shocked, not expecting such a reaction from him. His eyes sparkled almost lustfully while looking down at you.

"Did you enjoy that, sweet wife?" He asked, voce low and dangerous. You gulped eyes wide and lost.

"Enjoy what, husband?" You asked. Daemon leaned his forehead on yours. One of his hands rested on the wall by your head while the other found home on. your hipbone.

"Did you enjoy me as your puppet? Did you enjoy the taste of power I gave you?" His lips were close to your own, clouding your senses. You wanted to just boost yourself you and smash your lips together.

"I have always had the power Daemon, you just had never noticed" You whispered back. Daemon's laugh came out almost breathless.

"Sweet wife, you are not the one in control here" Daemon teased. Your hands rose from your sides and instead trailed up his thighs to rest on his waist.

"I am not?" you asked back. Your head tilted to the side when a shiver ran through his body. His adam's apple visibly moved as he gulped. You wanted to take it between your teeth and mark it but stopped yourself.

"What you do not understand Daemon is that I control you, the second you declared your love for me yesterday I decided that it is time to show you, just how much control you gave me over you, willingly" You raised a hand up to grab a fist full of his hair and pulled his head closer to yours. Daemon whimpered at the movement.

"I control your body" You pushed your body against his feeling obvious bulge against your stomach. He whined at the friction hips stuttering forward for more.

"And I love it" Daemon grumbled. You grinned letting go of his hair and slowly slid down on your knees in front of him. Daemon watched you with hooded eyes as you undid his trousers and pulled them down to his ankles. He got out of them quickly. His erect member slapped against his stomach once free.

"Watch, darling husband" You instructed, grabbing his member in your hand. You gave him a couple of strokes before finally taking him into your mouth. Daemon moaned feeling your wet tongue swirl around his tip before you pushed him further into your mouth.

Mindful of your teeth you moved your tongue to trace the vein that ran down the side of his shaft. Knowing how much he loved to feel you, you pushed yourself to take all of him in.

"Fuck" He groaned. Your nose brushed against the small amount of hair he had over his cock. You were unable to breath but that only made you grow wetter.

You pulled back taking huge gulps of air but your hands immediately moved to work, stroking him using the spit you left behind as lubrication. Daemon's hand snapped to the back of your head pushing you to take him in your mouth again, desperate.

"Patience, darling husband" You placed a comforting hand on his thigh. Daemon whined but did not push you again. You thumb swiped over his reddened tip earning a jerk of Daemon's hips.

"Pretty" You complimented before taking him in your mouth again. Your eyes remained upwards, looking at him. He followed your earlier instructions, watching as you sucked his tip. Tears were building in your eyes as you deep throated him again.

"Gods" Daemon broke the eye contact, throwing his head back. You pulled him out of your mouth and removed your hands from him as well.

"Fuck, why?" He asked, looking down at you. You smirked, raising one of your hands to wipe the spit from your mouth with your pointer and middle finger. Your other hands slowly trailed up his thigh as you moved to stand up again.

"Why should I continue when you cannot follow a simple order?" You teased. You raised an eyebrow when one of his hands snapped to wrap around your neck but he paused before he could touch your skin.

"Apologise" you ordered. Daemon's whole body shook with desire and just a tiny bit of anger.

"Sorry, wife" He whispered. His eyes looked anywhere but you, he could not believe that he was bending to your will.

"No, call me mistress" You shook your head. his eyes flashed to look at you, a glare set on his face. He wanted to protest so but could not find it in himself.

"Sorry, m-mistress" He stuttered. You chuckled knowing how hard it must have been for him. You loved seeing him struggle, you loved seeing him blush when he realised that his cock grew harder at the nickname, he enjoyed it.

"Good boy, now suck" You raised your fingers that were coated with your spit near his mouth. Daemon opened his mouth to take the two digits in his mouth and sucked. You grinned approvingly and pulled out your hands, still coated with spit just not yours.

"Undress me like the good boy you are" You nodded to you back. Daemon clenched his fists but complied moving to turn you around to face the wall. His strong fingers unlaced the dress with urgency and moved to remove the corset and linen leaving you completely naked.

"Good" You turned back around to fave him. You unbuttoned his tunic slowly, teasing him. He whined but shut his mouth once your eyes raised to look at him, hard and angry.

You moved around him and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed with your legs wide open, giving him a good view of your glistening entrance. Daemon had to clench his hands so he would not touch himself at the sight of you.

"Come" You ordered. Daemon looked up at you, resting like a goddess on the bed and took a step close to you.

"Stop" You raised one of your hands. He froze feeling like he was caught stealing something.

"Crawl" You smirked. Daemon glared at you but complied. He slid down on his knees before falling fully on his hands as well. He crawled over to you like some dog, he was your dog.

"Good boy" You reached over to pet his hair once he was close enough. Daemon rose to his knees and grabbed your hand.

"Ah ah ah" You pulled your hand away before he could tighten his grip. You grabbed his chin instead and leaned closer to him. Your noses touched and your eyes crossed to look at each other.

"Careful Daemon or mistress will grow angry" You whispered. You licked his lips and up to the tip of his nose before moving back. Daemon huffed annoyed but stop all movement.

"What do you want, sweet boy?" You asked. Daemon raised his hands but paused before they could touch your thighs. You gave him a nod letting him touch your thigh.

"I wish to eat you, mistress" Daemon answered. You grinned leaning back on your hands.

"What are you waiting for?" You widened the space between your legs. Daemon dived without a second thought.

You moaned feeling tongue lick at your clit. He moved to wrap his lips around the swollen num of nerves and gave a gentle suck. One of your hands trailed to touch his now messy hair, pushing him closer to your hole.

"Sweet boy, give mistress more or else" You threatened. Daemon pulled back to look at you. One of his hands moved to rub at your clit. Your hips jerked at the touch but you did not break eye contact with him.

"Or else what?" Daemon, asked with a smirk on his face. He was testing the waters. He thought he could break your will with pleasure.

"Or else you would not get to peak until I saw otherwise" You shrugged trying as hard as possible not to show that his finger rubbing your clit did not affect you. Daemon's smirk fell seeing that you were serious.

Silent he moved back to your cunt. His finger moved down to your hole, pushing one digit inside. You moaned at the intrusion. His tongue moved to your clit. He slurped and kissed you like there was no tomorrow. The sounds he let out were vulgar but they you only added to your arousal.

"Oh fuck...Daemon" You cried. Your hand behind his head tightened around his hair. Your other hand moved to grab at your breast. Your hips rolled unconsciously.

"Mistress" He whimpered, sending jolts through your body. Your head fell back at the vibrations. Daemon added a second finger inside of you, curling them just right, finding the sweet spot inside of you.

Your eyes rolled back and your legs moved to Daemon's shoulders, curling with pleasure. Your hand squeezing your breast before tweaking your nipple like he does. Your other hand let go of his hair and moved to brace yourself on the bed.

"I am so close" You whimpered. Daemon quickened the movement of his tongue over your clit. Your stomach tightened as the white hot pleasure coursed through your body threatening to snap.

With a stroke of his fingers to your sweet spot the tightening in your stomach snapped and floods of pleasure ran through your body. Your hand froze over your breast. Your legs shook on Daemon's shoulders and your toes curled. Daemon moved to place kisses to your thighs instead but his fingers resumed their movement inside of you.

"Good boy" You praised. You relaxed your legs and moved them off his shoulders. Daemon looked up at you awaiting further instructions.

"Get up" You ordered. Daemon let go of your legs and moved to stand up in front of you. You were face to face with his cock, leaking pre cum.

"Touch yourself" You looked up finding the shocked look on his face. You slid back onto the bed until you were leaning against the mountain of pillows, legs spread to show your cunt, glistening with your peak.

"Mistress?" He tilted his head to the side shocked. You chuckled at his bewilderment.

"Touch your cock" You repeated. Daemon hesitated for a second before complying. His hand stroked his cock slowly at first unsure.

Daemon has touched himself many times before, especially in his teenage years but still now after years of whore and almost three years of marriage it felt like a foreign activity for him. He moaned when his fingers grazed his tip.

Your hands trailed down your body to touch yourself, eyes never leaving his. His eyes however watched as your fingers opened your lips and your other hand moved through to gather your arousal, you fingers moved to touch your sensitive pearl.

"Fucking hell" He groaned, his ministrations growing faster. His other hand moved to cup his balls, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure.

"Are you close, sweet boy?" You asked, teasingly. Daemon nodded desperately. His breathing growing heavier. You slid a finger inside of yourself, your fingers were nowhere near as long as his but they will do.

"Do not cum" You glared at him. Daemon whined but did not dare complain. You noticed how he tried to slow his stroking, to earn himself more time.

"Do not slow down" You hissed. Daemon cried out sounding as if he was struggling. You pushed a second finger inside of your cunt. Your breasts bounced as you rolled your hips to match your finger's rhythm. His eyes watched ever movement you did. Your eyes as well moved to watch as his hand stroked his cock, hard and leaking only for you.

"Fuck, come over" You moaned. Daemon moved to climb onto the bed and closer to you. Once on his knees between your legs he continued stroking his cock.

"Fuck, mistress is so pretty" He moaned, now watching from up close.

"Put it in and cum" You rolled your hims as if inviting him in. Daemon did not hesitate to push his cock inside once your fingers were out.

"Fuck, yes" He cried, snapping his hips agains yours not giving himself or you time. Your head fell back, walls tightening around him. Your breath got caught in your throat as the feeling of being full consumed you.

"Yes, fill me up even when pregnant" You whispered in his ear. Your wrapped your arms around him to pull him closer. Your nails raked down his back as your peak washed over you.

"Yes, breed you" He cried, cock pulsing with his orgasm. Your hips wiggled needing more of the overstimulation. He did not stop the movement even when your orgasms had calmed. It was like a comfort movement at this point, just gentle rocking.

"My beautiful mistress, I love you so much" He whispered. His head leaning down to place kisses along your shoulder and down to your collarbone. You moaned as his cock softened inside of you but still managed to brush just against the right spots.

"My beautiful good boy, I love you as well" You whispered back. He pulled back to look at you. He leaned down claiming your lips in a passionate kiss, you kissed him back without a second thought.

"Mistress" Daemon whined, his cock growing even more sensitive with the movement. You smiled, caressing his cheek as you watched him for a couple of seconds, still moving on top of you, not daring to stop without your permission.

"Such a good boy" You praised, running your fingers through his hair. You stopped the rolling of your hips to lessen the movement.

"Pull out, nuncle" You whispered. Daemon did not waste another second to pull out of you, whining like a wounded animal. His cock was red and dripping still. He fell beside you panting and shaking.

"Look at that" You chuckled, opening your lower lips to show his cum oozing out of you. Your other hand slid down to gather the white liquid. You sucked your fingers tasing his salty cum, letting out a hum of approval. Daemon moaned at the sight. You grinned seeing him eyeing your mouth. You leaned closer to kiss him and much to his surprise you pushed his cum into his mouth.

"Swallow, husband" You nudged his nose with your own. Daemon stared wide eyed at you. Still he swallowed without a complain. The fire of desire started burning inside of him again.

"Mistress" He whispered. He reached over to grab at your breasts. He leaned down to kiss one of them, suckling your nipple. His hand trailed to the other one tweaking it just like you did earlier but somehow his hands, his finger were much better. His hands rough and calloused from sword fighting. Your hand trailed up his arm, tracing each and every scar and burn he got on his body, cursing whoever was responsible.

"Are you still hungry, nuncle?" You questioned. He raised his head with your nipple still between his lips, stretching it. He whined nodding his head.

"Words" You pushed some of his hair back and behind his ear. He released your nipple with a blush decorating his face.

"I am still in need of you, mistress" He whispered. He buried his face between your breasts and slid down to your navel leaving behind sweet kisses and some marks. Still Daemon wanted to mark you. You grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him back up to face you.

"Shhh" You shushed him before he cold say anything. His lips twitched but a gasp rolled out of his mouth when you pushed him on his back. You climbed his lap with a smirk.

His hand fell by his sides and his eyes glued to your figure as you leaned down. You dodged his lips and instead kissed his cheek, moving down slowly to kiss the tip of his nose. Behind his ear and down his neck. His hips unconsciously rolled up trying to hump you but was unable to do so. His cock growing hard again as you resumed the trail of kisses. You kissed down to his chest pausing there with a smirk.

You took on of his nipples into you mouth. He gasped shock, arching his back. You swirled your tongue around the bud before sucking at it. One of his hands snapped to grab at you shoulder. You pulled away with a pop and moved to the other one. He moaned as you placed kitten licks to the bud, burned and the skin irritated so you did not linger long on it. You continued down as he whined disappointed slightly but not for long. You nibbled at his hipbone, leaving behind a mark.

"What is it nuncle? Are you unsatisfied?" You asked. One of your hands trailed to find his member, hard and standing proud again. Your cunt pulsed with need, the mere sight of him on his back, eyes wide and watching you, the usually loud and dominant man in bed at your mercy.

"No- I mean yes mistress, more p-please more" He cried trying to thrust his hips up for more friction. You gave him a couple of pulls before removing your hand.

"Shh sweet nuncle, I will give you what you want if you just tell me" You sat yourself on his stomach. His hands rested on your thighs kneading the skin, grabbing hand fulls to compose himself.

"I need to be inside of you, breed you" He begged. His eyes growing wetter the more time you left him without touching him.

"Oh but sweet nuncle, you already breed me" You grabbed one of his hands and moved it to your belly where your baby sat still two moons old inside of you.

"Again-more" He cried. You smirked, leaning down to kiss his swollen lips. He kissed back, grabbing the back of your head with one hand and the other trailed to grab your behind and squeezed.

"Alright, sweet nuncle" You mumbled against his lips. You pushed his hands off and slid down to grab his cock, you lined it with your entrance and slid down slowly. You moaned at the feeling of him resting inside of you. You almost came from the mere sight of him sliding inside of you so easily.

"Gods" His hips twitched below you. His hands reached up to grab something and you gave him your hands. You intertwined your fingers by your hips as you began moving.

You teased him by moving your hips slowly in a circular movement. He sighed in content either way. You picked up speed, bouncing up and down as the need grew more inside of you.

"Daemon" You moaned, throwing your head back. Daemon pulled himself to sit up, one of his hands let go of your hand and wrapped it around your waist to assist you. Your thighs burned with each thrust but you did not mind.

"Sweet wife" He moaned, against your ear. Your free arm wrapped around his shoulders to brace yourself. Your hips moved in unison to bring you both to your peak.

Your eyes looked over to the wall behind the bed where a small opening showed, not big enough to be seen. Your purple eyes met an identical set watching you and your husband fuck and with passion. The person seemed to be panting as they watched. You moved your head slightly until your lips were by Daemon's ear, moaning with pleasure.

"Fuck" He groaned, his grip tightened around your hand. Your stomach was in knots causing you to move faster, alerting Daemon that you were close to your release. Daemon helped you bounce faster unaware of the pair of eyes watching the both of you.

"Yes" Your head fell back as you crashed over the edge. Your fingers dug into his flesh, leaving behind crescent shaped behind. Daemon was following close behind with a loud moan. Your body shook from the intensity of your orgasm, you never imagined being watched would bring you so much pleasure.

You and Daemon remained in a tight embrace as you came down from your highs, Cock deep inside of you keeping his spent in there, his lips moved to litter kisses along your shoulder and neck. Your fingers played with his hair, chests rubbing against each other as you panted almost in a rhythm.

"I love you" Daemon whispered, against your skin. You pulled back to look him in the eyes. His purple eyes showed nothing but the truth.

"I love you too Daemon, so much I am ready to die for you, I am ready to kill for you, I am ready to burn the world for you" You leaned your forehead on his. Your words seemed to have a strong impact on him, his breathing grew shallow and his eyes closed enjoying this intimate moment with you.

"I will start a war for you, my love, I will end the world for you, if you only ask my mistress" Daemon whispered. You crashed your lips against him in a passionate kiss. He pulled you impossible close before rolling you on your back, still deeply lodged inside of you.

"Are you ready for another round but with master this time?" He asked, Daemon the gentleman still very much present and in need of permission.

"Master? Really?" You teased, smirking at the nickname he gave himself, the male version of your own.

"Mistress? Really?" He teased back. You both giggled before your lips locked again. The sweat on your bodies did not bother you. The sheets soaked with sweat and cum did not bother you. The jealousy inside of you long forgotten. The person watching you fuck was long forgotten. The world was long forgotten as long you were with Daemon, even better as he fucked you.

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