#house of aster | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

naelys-the-aster · 2 years

Text

Jorrāelagon Zālagon Chapter Two

Niece to Otto Hightower, Hand of the King, and cousin to Lady Alicent Hightower, you become ensnared in the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen. After hearing of a sensitive marriage arrangement, you learn the prince is running out of time... and options.

A/N: I love that everyone is enjoying this fiction, please keep ask the asks coming! Also Rhae = Rhaenyra, Not Rhea Royce.

Word Count: 6,381K

You and Daemon left the garden of the gods wood, trailing slightly behind the prince through the vast hallways and corridors of the keep. The hairs on your neck stood up as you felt the eyes of the Maesters, maids, and servants on you.

It felt like an oblivion, an endless journey, but you finally reached the large doors of your chambers and thanked the Rogue Prince for his escort with a smile. He gave a quick smile back and nodded, “Try to keep your eyes dry my lady, I will take your words into consideration.” And with that he turned on his heel, letting his footfalls echo through the corridor as he made his exit.

The chamber door creaked open loudly as you stepped into the room, “There you are!” Alicent exclaimed throwing her arms around you. You smiled and gladly returned her embrace.

“I lost you in the masses.” She said pulling away from you.

“Yes, I was one of the last ones to exit the throne room, I- uh- got caught up with the maidens of the court, I’m sorry cousin.” Alicent breathed a sigh of relief as she motioned you to sit down with her.

Your room was decadent, golden fixtures and satin silks draped the large room, antiques from all corners of the seven kingdoms neatly placed and dusted littered the room in an organized manor, that of which you would clean in times of great stress. The chairs that resided in front of your bed were made from the finest laces and linens, carved by the finest of craftsmen, and a small class table rested in between the two chairs. Alicent had a maiden bring in a fresh pot of tea, which sat on the table with two intricately decorated cups.

“Come cousin, sit with me.” Alicent patted the chair next to hers as she sat and you gladly followed suit.

“I have news” she whispers pouring you and herself a streaming hot class of black tea.

“Oh, do go on.” You quietly exclaimed picking the hot cup from the glass table, bringing it to your lips.

“This cannot leave this room Y/N,” you nodded in understanding, of anyone to keep a secret it would be you.

Alicent sipped her tea before continuing, “my father has spoken with the king and he has informed me that Daemon is to be wed”

You feigned shock, “Was that what the king spoke of after we exited the throne room?” your shock must’ve been believable because your cousin carried on with this juicy gossip.

“As punishment for his action in slums apparently” she sipped her tea once more.

“Does the king have a lady in mind?” Though you already knew the answer to this.

“The lady Rhea Royce heir to Runestone will be betrothed to him if Daemon does not choose a worthy maiden himself.” You nodded at this, at this point its hard to react..as you already found this out through an accidental bout of curiosity.

“The lady Rhea Royce is a fair and beautiful maiden.” you said plainly.

“Yes, indeed, do you think that their will be any contenders for the prince’s hand?” Alicent swirled her cup around in small circles as she gazed out of the large decorative windows of your room.

“I believe most women of the court find the prince to be rather…” what was the word you were looking for?

“to be rather coarse.” you finished setting down your cup. Alicent hummed in response and as if on cue the loud screeching of a dragon could be heard in the distance, Rhaenyra had finally returned home from her journey to Dragonstone. Cousin leapt up excitedly and grabbing your hand rushing you from your seat, “come! let us see Rhaenyra!”

The scent of dragon was a notable one, it could be described as a strong sulfuric scent with a musky tinge to the smell itself. Though Rhaenyra didn’t mind Syrax’s scent as she nuzzled her familiar.

“Rhaenrya!” Alicent called out waving her hands at her best friend. You followed suit and begave to wave and shout your greetings.

The three of you walked the halls to Rhaenrya’s quarters spilling the gossip about Daemon’s latest actions and the consequences to follow.

Rhae snorted as she laughed,“I highly doubt my uncle will find anyone to wed in such a short length of time.”

Ancient nodded in agreement and continued giggling as Rhaenyra pushed the heavy door of her bedroom open. “Do you believe my uncle started those fires?” although before you could respond while Rhae pushed on her chamber doors…

Which opened to reveal a shocking sight.

Daemon.

He sat on the edge of Rhaenrya’s bed, and his eyes connected with yours in shock. He didn’t expect you to be here. He must have not expected Rhaenrya to have any company in her presence upon her swift arrival.

Alicent and you froze in your place. This was strange, it still was before sunrise, why would he be nested in her quarters at such an hour?

Rhae tilted her hear and furrowed her brow in confusion, “Uncle, this is a surprise, what can I do for you?” she asked pulling off her riding gloves and tossing them on to her bed.

He did not respond, not with words, he simply shifted his gaze from you to Rhae, his brow raised and Rhaenrya responded instantaneously, “My friends, may I have a moment alone with my uncle?”

This was confusing, why would Daemon be waiting for Rhaenrya? But before you could give any indication of protest Alicent was dragging you down the hallway. She paused, stopping abruptly as if she couldn’t hold her words inside any longer.

“Alicent, stop, you’re hurting me!” you whispered harshly.

She turned to you in a dead locking her eyes with yours. “I fear for his intent on Rhaenyra”

“W-what?” Your brow was firmly knitted in confusion, did she know something that you had not?

“I do not trust him with Rhaenyra.” her voice rang firmly this time.

‘No.. she can't mean she thinks.. they are-’

You cut your thoughts off “No, Daemon is reckless.. but you do not think he would-“

“He has been given free reign to chose whomever he wishes to wed, why not Rhaenrya?” Alicent’s tone was sharp, and you inwardly cringed at the very suggestion.

She continued ranting about as the two of you reached the gardens.

“Why would the Prince be in wait for Rhaenrya if not for a salacious reason?”

You could only shake your head, “I do not know.” These matters are none of your concern, it was none of your business who prince Daemon carried on with. Though imagining it being Rhaenrya…

There was something about the though that made your stomach twist, your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, and adrenaline being to coarse through your heart. Alicent grabbed your hands causing you to look into her eyes, “We have to protect Rhaenrya”

Her eyes burned with determination and her grip on your hands became tight again.

“We cannot allow him to corrupt her innocence.” She repeated sternly, with this all you could do is nod in response.

Dinner was served at a vastly large table for only 7 people. Those of which were Queen Aemma, King Viserys, Prince Daemon, Princess Rhaenrya, Uncle Otto, Alicent, and yourself. Every dinner was resembling a feast, glazed roast sat as the center piece of the meal tonight, with side dishes of goat, beef, and crab being passed around casually.

Your eyes were drawn to the white haired prince eating silently as Aemma spoke about the origin of the meal. Something inside you yearned for just one glance from him, just to be noticed in this instant.

But you were no the one to catch his eyes, it was you best friend Rhaenrya. Daemon had not taken his eyes off of her for a majority of the meal, leaving you wondering if you would even stumble upon his company afterwards. You poked at your food, but your appetite had faded with your interest of even staying at the table.

‘Daemon would not sully a maiden like Rhaenrya, he couldn’t’

‘I’m overthinking this, he was waiting to greet her’

‘Alicent is- is trying to put ideas in my head is all’

But Daemon and Rhaenyra were enthralled in their conversation of dragon riding and the various trips on dragon back had taken, it seemed as if everyone else was flourishing in the conversation at the table, Otto and Viserys were speaking fondly with Alicent and Aemma, everyone but you, until Rhaenyra cheered.

“Y/N! Im sure you would love to come with us!”

You lifted your eyes from your plate, “Uh, I’ve never.. ridden before” you mumbled feeling heat flood your cheeks.

“Then you shall on the morrow, we fly for Dragonstone.” Daemon chimed bringing his cup to his lips.

Viserys smiled and laughed a loud commenting of how his first ride on Balerion was unforgettable. Otto’s eyes drifted to you, a for a second you caught him giving a stare of suspicion which had passed in a glimpse as he chimed in ushering a tale of the dragons from Valyria being the fastest as strongest of their kind. And Daemon had not given you any time, other than that one acknowledgement.

“You will do well cousin.” Alicent sang holding your hand as you walked to the dragon pit. She could tell you were nervous and respectfully so, “I could not find myself to mount such a monster.” She claimed kissing your hand.

The screeches and howls of the dragons were unmistakable as you approached the front of the large colosseum . The dragon keepers held their spears tightly in hand and shouted to each other in high Valyrian.

Syrax emerged from the shadows of the entrance letting out a high pitched screeched of anticipation. You stood with your cousin still in hand some feet away, your breath taken away by the size of the dragon and her surrounding golden aura. You could never understand why your cousin (and secretively your father) despised the so called “monsters”.

Rhaenrya mounted Syrax effortlessly and waved over to you and Lady Alicent, “Y/N! You’ll have to ride with Daemon!” she yelled as Syrax began to walk forward, her lrge foot falls reverberating the ground, lurching her saddle back and forth.

“Wait- what?”

‘No, no, no not that one!’

Alicent gave you a questioning look to match your own confusion.

“Just please be safe N/Y” Alicent said as she kissed your hands once more, your mind was spinning, you thought you would be riding on Syrax, a kind dragon used to having multiple riders- NOT CARAXES.

“A-Alicent I do not wish to ride-“

The ear shattering screech is what solidified your fear. From the entrance on the pit Caraxes snaked his long neck to observe the scene before him, before letting out powerful and deafening roar. Dragon keepers held their spears at the ready and began yelling at the beast in their ancient dialect.

Caraxes was a wolf headed dragon, one of the most aggressive and seemingly volatile from the stories that you had heard. It was as if your body had turned to stone realizing that you would be on the back of a prehistoric killing machine… with Daemon.

As if on cue, the young prince made his appearance by your side, giving a small laugh of amusement of your bewilderment.

“He’s not that bad, I have a two-person saddle that befits Caraxes, it’s not as horrific as you think.” He gave a slight half smile before stepping towards the dragon reciting high Valyrian. Daemon caressed the dragons jaw earning a playful nudge from Caraxes and well as a deep groan.

Alicent had shrunk back from you and fell into the background as Daemon motioned for you to come over. You were frozen in your place until Alicent touched your back pushing you forward, you looked back at her a look of terror and fear scorned across your face. Your cousin mouthed you a goodbye and you turned back around, a stumbling ball of nerves.

This reptile was massive in compared to your petite stature, in just a second he could swallow you whole and you would never been seen again. Daemon obviously caught sight of your fear, bringing you out of your own thoughts he grabbed your hand.

Not a forcefully yank of your hand like you expected, but a soft motion in which intertwined your fingers with his as he brought your palm to the scaley calloused cheek of Caraxes. The texture of his scaled were that of hard leather plates, reminiscent of amor.

The beast let out a low guttural sound, “Worried he’ll eat you?” Daemon joked a smug grin making it’s way across his face, or at least.

You pulled your hand away from Caraxes, still overwhelmed, “I- I have never..come face to face with one.” His smile only grew wider.

“Let us go then”

Before you could ask how to get on the prince had thrown you over his shoulder, earning a surprised gasp from you as he hiked up the dragons fore wing placing you in the proper position on the saddle.

You straddled the thick and rigid leather saddle, Daemon seated himself in front of you, gripping the reigns and positioning himself towards you, “You may want to hold on, the take off is a little rough.”

“Hold on?”

You acted on impulse and wrapped your arms around the prince’s waist, unknowingly earning a smile of satisfaction from him as you pulled your body close to his. Daemon tightened the reins and yelled out to the dragon,

“Soves, Caraxes!”

The saddle began to rock vigorously with each enormous step forward the dragon took. You tightened your grip around Daemon’s waist burying your head into his back as Caraxes began to pick up speed.

With a whoosh he caught the air under his wings and the dragons body moved rhythmically from side to side. Rocking you back and forth vigorously, you almost felt like your body would fall backwards if you hadn’t been gripping Daemon for your life.

With a loud roar Caraxes broke through the barriers of the clouds, his body leveling out.

“Look now dear!” Daemon yelled over the rushing air. You pulled your face from his back and were struck with the golden beauty of the morning sun glistening over the clouds. Daemon took note of your speechlessness with pride.

“It’s- It’s Amazing!” you managed to get out, your eyes were sucking in the soft looking golden features of the sky, it was like being in the heavens! The rays of morning sun cast light spectrums of color to faintly peak though the mist of the clouds and the dragons wings parted any clouds obstructing the view around.

In you state of blissful awe , you hadn’t noticed your grip on the prince’s waist had loosened, and Caraxes began to nose dive.

You felt your body lift from the saddle, Daemon noticed the shift in weight and quickly grabbed your arm , wrapping it around his waist once more, gripping your arm close to his core. It could have been the adrenaline, could have been the fact you were falling at extraordinary speeds, or was it that Daemon actually wanted to keep you safe?

“Pālegon!!” He yelled.

Caraxes began to corkscrew into a nosedive and the excitement pent up inside your tiny form had been unleashed. You screamed and hollered with joy and excitement as the dragon plummeted through the clouds. Daemon was focused, telling Caraxes to pull up before the shimmering blue ocean could come into contact.

Caraxes screeched and seemingly whisked over the sapphire waters that currently bedazzled your eyes. The mist and salt of the waves below cooled your face and you found your chin resting on the princes shoulder, a smile that was to wide and full of joy plastered on your face. Daemon relaxed finally letting his stone face crack into a a smug half smile. He couldn’t even care if you were screaming in his ear, your elated screeches made him feel like he was riding a dragon for the first time once more. It was refreshing to him, not that he would ever show it completely.

The red giants leather wings echoed as they beat hard against the breeze while approaching the rocky and mountainous shores of Dragonstone. Caraxes wailed as he came to his landing as if he wanted to go farther.

You heart was still pounding in your chest as Caraxes' wings fanned the air, whipping up clouds of sand as the dragon screeched making its heavily footed landing. Caraxes shook his head, shaking the saddle, though this did not stop Daemon from praising the dragon.

"Lykiri, Syz" the prince purred.

His hand ran up and down Caraxes neck to what length was reachable. And this made you laugh aloud at the touching sight.

You managed to speak through your enlightened laughter "I love how you praise him."

Daemon hummed in response and stood upright on the saddle peering up at the large castle towering over you. In the distance the songs of Syrax could be heard, meaning Rhaenyra must've arrive short before you.

"Seems as if we've been beaten." Daemon mumbles looking towards the direction of the dragon's song.

"Let us be welcomed, my dear" Daemon said once again manhandled you down from the Saddle, fore wing, and finally setting you down on the dark sand beach of Dragon Stone. Daemon had started up the beach, to the stone stairwells that aligned with the entrances of the massive keep.

You knew Daemon wished to be welcomed and to ask (Interrogate?) Rhaenyra about how she arrived before the blood worm Caraxes himself. Something he found unbelievable and had to involve a sort of foul play.

But you couldn't help but fall to your knees, you couldn't help but dig you fingers into the dark glittery sands, you couldn't help but be taken away. The scenery, the high ridges of the cliffs and mountains peaking through the clouds, the sounds of the seas birds and the waves crashing to the shore, the smell of salt and the tinge of sea life. What was this? This was a fantasy- a fairy tale told by the nans and midwives.

Until he spoke up talking his stride behind you.

"You're a hermit."

You deadpanned the smug white haired prince.

" is he making a joke of me?" You blinked and looked up at him, then back at the beach.

"It's just a lot to take in, I haven't been outside of kings landing in so long." you droned lifting yourself off of the dunes dusting the sand off of your garments.

He hummed, “Yes, Otto likes to keep his ward in sight at all times.” Daemon muttered stripping his hands of his riding gloves.

Your smile didn’t faulter at his comment, it was true, Uncle Otto had told you what happened to fair maidens that had left the safety of the wall of the keep. They were kidnapped, raped, sold into brothels, sometimes killed, and left in the streets.

He convinced you that the outside world was utterly terrifying, but this was not terrifying- not at all, this was exhilarating!

“My uncle always said that If I were to leave the safety of the castle I would surely be ravaged by the eyes and hands of men” you said softly, almost to yourself.

Daemon scoffed loudly and stifled a laugh, “It just takes the right one” he claimed smugly making his way up the sandy dunes of the beach. You felt a rush of heat burn at your cheeks and ears, Daemon glanced back at you and smirked, noting you had probably understood his insinuation.

“He’s such a.. a.. ugh!” your mind screamed. You shook your head and followed the young man up the shore to the stone steps leading from the mountainous beach to the castle.

“Oh Uncle, is it so hard to believe that Syrax can out fly Caraxes?” Rhaenrya laughed aloud falling into the couch of the eloquent living quarters.

Daemon stood leaning against the frame of fireplace in front of the young girl, “Yes, because she can’t, witch craft I say.” He joked crossing his arms.

You giggled at their conversation as you sat next to you best friend, resting you head in her lap as she carefully braided your hair.

“Come now Uncle, don’t be such a sore sport!” Rhaenrya chuckled as Daemon exasperated rolled his eyes to the ceilings and shook his head.

“If you two wish to carry on your…” The prince motioned his hand in circles trying to find the right words “...hair braiding, I’m going to inquire how the kitchen tends to handle tonight’s feast.”

You turned you head towards the prince and smiled, “Thankyou my-“

Daemon’s brow raised causing you to quickly catch yourself, “Daemon.”

A smirk flashed on his features before he exited the room, causing a warmth to bloom from your chest, it was his smile, one that not many people see that made you feel content. Rhaenrya seemed to have been oblivious to the interaction and continued to braid your hair into intricate designs, much like the ones she and her mother wear with pride.

“Sit up, Y/N and turn around, I’m going to do the back now” Rhaenrya continued swirling and folding one piece of hair over the other, tugging lightly at the strands and asking if she was pulling too tight at times. You propped yourself upwards with you back facing your friend.

“Rhae, may I confide in you?” you mused narrowing your curious gaze back at her.

“Should I ask… why Daemon was waiting for her?”

“Of course, Y/N I will always be here to listen” she replied sweetly…innocently.

“No.. I treasure our friendship too much..it would be to obvious of an insinuation”

“I fear for the persons responsible for burning down the building in Flea Bottom… but I cannot help but question..” you paused, thinking about how to word the question with no offense offered.

You took a deep breath and continued on, “Daemon has been accused, I can’t help but think of those 300 civilans, burning alive with no escape, do you think Daemon would actually harm the people of Kings landing?” you looked down and began to pick a your finger nails, a nasty habit you picked up in your time spent with your Uncle and dear Cousin.

Rhaenrya stopped the fluid motions of her hands and let out a laugh. This surprised you... but in a way eased your nerves, if had been clear Daemon was involved, she would have a much more serious affect.

“My father did not put him to death, so that must mean he is not responsible, if he was, I’m sure my Uncle would be deep in the crypts of the Keep by now.” she resumed brushing and braiding your hair. But something did not sit right, and Daemon’s point in the throne room held validity. If he wanted to kill as many people as he wanted…why not with dragon fire?

But what if he didn’t want to be caught either? A giant dragon flying over the city was quite noticeable easy to pick out who the rider is by the color and size of the dragon.

“Does this trouble you?” Rhaenyra chirped.

“it’s just.. if Daemon was not responsible, that means someone out there is.”

Rhaenrya frowned and placed her hands on your back, “Let us forget the squabbles and rumors of Kings Landing, we’re here at Dragonstone! Tis’ the time to be happy, tomorrow you and I will venture the seaside on horseback.”

She reminded you of her father in that moment, putting all stressors aside to enjoy quality time, even offering up adventures to assuage the mind of her distressed friend.

She drew closer you your ear as she leaned from behind you and whispered “Maybe well find buried treasure along the shores”

You burst out in a fit of laughter, “Yes! Us to be pirates!” you managed to say between your giddiness. Rhaenrya smiled chuckling to herself as you trailed on about how you and her would find a chest full of gold, enough to purchase a ship larger than Corlys Velaryon’s, and would sail the world collecting trinkets and various fruits.

“We could steal a lemon tree from the streets of Pentos, and nobody will know it was two girls!” Rhaenrya cheered. If only that could be, but your friends actions uplifted your mood, and soon enough she told you to stand up and look in the mirror that sit in the corner of the room.

“It’s beautiful, thankyou so much Rhae!” you threw you arms around her embracing her in a tight hug. Her gorgeous white smile gave a comfort to your worries, maybe it was just a Targaryen thing, maybe they just had a way with making those close to them feel accepted and happy. A knock on the door cause you both to separate and calm your hysterics.

“Come” she called out.

“Hello my Lady, Hello Lady Hightower,” you cringed in your mind at that address, you secretly wish you had no surname at, all hells Snow would feel more comfortable, just the name Hightower..made you feel different than the company you occupied, left out, it made you miss your father and mother, the name reminded you of your callous Uncle.

But you nodded in reply as she continued, “Supper is to be served within the hour, the prince requests you ready yourselves.” And with that she bowed her head and exited the room. You glanced at your reflection once more.

Your hair had been braided in an up position, braids cascading along side your head and into one large mass of woven threads, the beauty could not be replicated by Queen Aemma’s maiden hand herself.

You bid your short goodbye to Rhaenrya until supper and were escorted by a kind knight to your temporary quarters to quickly ready yourself. Your luggage had flown with Syrax… maybe that was the reason you had to ride with Daemon and his hyperactive dragon.

Green, Green, Green.

“what the fuck? Why are all my garments of the same color?! Gods!”

“Fuckin’ hells” you gasped and clamped your hands over your mouth in shock. No, did you just? No, well, yes but no. A lady should never engage in such language... it’s- it’s unbefitting!

“There you go, black as night” you gleamed at your dress, that of which was black with grey embroidery. It fit your form excellently as well as the complimenting jewelry and earrings.

A knock at your door pulled you away from vanity and you called out in response, “come!”

The same servant from earlier bowed and offered to escort you to the grand dining hall.

The halls of Dragonstone where different than Kings landing, the architecture is more rough around the edges, and the halls were dark the color of the mountains, and the floors were semi contrasting to the walls. You past Busts of former house holders and dragons, many of wall hangings that have withstood the time to past, it felt scholarly, educated, of a different time.

Two gentlemen threw open the dark large iron doors to the grand dinning room for you to be immediately greeted by Rhaenrya.

“Y/N! Come sit they’re about to present us with our meal.” she patted the chair next you her and you happily plopped down next to Rhaenrya, but there was one less person at the table, Daemon was absent. Yet wasn’t he the one organizing this dinner?

As if on cue the large doors opened once more, and the prince strolled coolly down the aisle , taking his seat next to you, at the head of the table. Servants scattered across the room with plates and saucers filled to the brim with lobster, crab, pork, lamb, chicken, and assorted custards, breads, vegetable and condiments. All steaming as the plates clanked to the stone table before you. Mouthwatering, in a literal sense, you quickly swiped a napkin on the table and dabbed the corner of you lips. You could’ve sworn you heard Daemon stifle a low chuckled making you blush.

“I know, it looks so good, give the kitchen our praise, please” Rhaenyra chimed picking up her cutlery. The servants nodded in an odd unison and left the three of you to eat in peace,

You place your elbows on the table, close your eyes, and clasp your hands together about do your duty and to pray to the Seven until-

A hand found its way a top of your own, it was Daemon, “There’s no need for that.”

Your heart jumped for a second at his touch. His hands where larger than your own, they were warm and you could feel the callouses that ran along the top of his palm.

“I’m sorry” you mumble unclasping your hands, resting them on the table, but his hand…was still atop of yours, his eyes smiling at you and you smiling back.

“Don’t be sorry, Targaryen’s don’t worship the seven is all.” Rhaenrya muffled a loud.

“Must you speak with you mouth full of loaf?” Daemon teased followed by a fake exasperated sigh. You laughed, pulling your hand from under Daemon’s and flicking a piece of bread at Rhaenerya, “yes princess mind your manners!”

Rhae proceeded to shovel food in her mouth in protest “Neber!!” the hysterical laughter came from you two as Daemon held his head in his hands, shaking playfully at the foolishness shown to him in this moment.

Dinner was eventful, you drank the finest wine for the first time in a long time. Everyone engaged in harmless talks of gossip floating around the kingdom, war plans Daemon knew of, and even a little trash talk of the lords Westeros (especially that of a certain Jason Lannister) was joyfully thrown around. This is what a family dinner should be, laughing, storytelling, talking about the news. This was a major difference from the quiet dinners around the table with you, Alicent, and Otto. Dinners in which Alicent received praise and you were undermined for your lower position in the family.

This is what you wanted, sarcastic remarks from your best friend and a charming replies to them from Daemon, this felt right and for a moment...you felt like you were apart of the Targaryen family. That’s all you ever felt like you wanted, to be part of a family that cared for one another.

You were three glasses into your wine, becoming somewhat tipsy by the end of the dinner festivities. The servants came to collect the plates, sauces, and silverware and everyone was dismissed from the table. Rhaenrya blissfully said she was headed to her chambers to nap off the heavy meal and you found yourself humming to yourself while hopelessly navigating the hallways of the unfamiliar castle.

Blissfully buzzed, you spun on your tiptoes and perched yourself by a large window that looked over the darkening skies and sea.

Though, suddenly Alicent’s words rang in your ear. “Why would the Prince be in wait for Rhaenrya if not for a salacious reason?”

You shook your head, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came.

"I'm please you enjoyed the preparations made"

You jumped at the voice and turned around to see him, "Gods, you scared me" you say holding your chest, this man had a strange ability to be heard when he wanted and dead silent when he wished.

He slowly strut passed you, tilting his head in the direction of the threshold of the castle, gesturing for you to follow. Yes, a walk along the beach side at night both of you tipsy from the endless supplies of whine. You walked through the large entrance trailing behind him in silence.

"the stars are so bright here" you mused looking at the twinkling accents in the black night above.

"Much better view than in Kings Landing" Daemon replied looking up as well.

You let out a sad sigh, "I almost dont want to go back..." you looked to Daemon and back at the night sky, it was littered with more stars than you've ever seen from any tower in King's Landing. He noticed the shift in your mood among mentioning King’s Landing.

Daemon felt a lot about your Uncle, but most of all he secretly despised how Otto Hightower, was practically keeping you hostage. Daemon knew little of how you actually came to King’s Landing, he did not know what end your paternal parents met, but he was sure that you were not treated as you should be.

His quiet voice, that of which was just above a whisper, broke your sadness “You should stay in Dragonstone, stay here.” He held out a hand to you helping you on to the sand dunes down from the stones steps of the winding stair way.

You took his hand and once more your face began to heat up, “I-I could not, My uncle would be so furious” you say as you stepped down. You didn’t let go of his hand, the truth was you did not want to. There was something about his touch that eased all the worries and anxieties that ailed you. And the young prince did not oppose as he kept your hand in his.

The two of you walked the shore line in the moon light, you could not tell if it was the uneven sand of the beach of the wine that made your body sway slightly with each step.

Probably the wine.

Daemon swayed every now and then himself, though you were sure this man could drink you under the table, so maybe it was the formation on the beach itself- for him atleast.

Your eyes glanced down to your hands, intertwined with one another still, the heat from between your palms contrasting the cold ocean air that fanned the two of you.

Daemon crossed your path and groaned as he sat down, not paying mind to dirtying his clothes in the sand. You stood over him, still intertwined.

“Sit Y/N”

The sound of the waves crashing to the shore could not possibly match the sound of the blood rushing to your head. Had you heard him correctly?

Before you could lower yourself next to him, he pulled you down, and you fell between his legs. You froze for a moment, questioning if this was real, is this a result of a drunken dream, a stupor of sorts?

Daemon pulled you to him, you sat between his legs, feeling the warth that emanated from his body. You noticed you hadn’t released the breathe of air from you lungs and did so while leaning into his chest. He noticed you were tense, Daemon rested his chin atop of your head and turned his eyes up to the constellations above.

You mind rushed with your blood as he placed two arms around you. Finally, you closed your eyes sinking into this feeling of warmth that of which you’ve never experience with another person in your life.

You could only imagine what was going through his head, what his intentions were from this trip, the dragon ride, the feast, and now… a moon lit walk on the shores of his birthplace. Why?

“Why does that prick keep you locked away in the keep?”

Though the insult to your uncle was clear, Daemon was calm, evening tightening his hold around you.

“My Uncle just.. has an unfavorable view of the world, he believes a woman should perform her duties without being deterred” He couldn’t handle the sadness that sung with your words. You felt him drawn in a large breath and a shallow exhale that followed.

“That’s the long way to say cunt, I suppose” he muttered.

You pulled away to look back at his face, “I know you don’t favor my uncle, sometimes I feel as if he doesn’t have my best interest in-“

Daemon snorted, “Then hes a cunt, that’s what he is! Just admit it!”

You let out a light chuckle, “No! using that language is just inapporiate for a lady” you playfully smacked his shoulder. He rolled his with a toothy grin.

“yes, is that what your Uncle told you?” He placed his hands on your shoulders letting his lips fall by the side of you cheek, the heat of his breath warming the cold shell of your ear.

“Say it” he whispered smoothly, “say what he is, my dear”

The giddiness and excitement was beging you boil inside.

“A cunt” you squeaked softly, this made Daemon chuckled as he squeezed your shoulders.

“Louder.”

“A Cunt” you spoke up, though he was not satified.

“Cmon say it louder!” he called out, you began to feel something wash over you. A warm feeling mixed with this newfound energy.

“A CUNT!”

Daemon stood up bringing you along with his as he raised his voice and began to yell at the stars.

“WHAT IS OTTO HIGHTOWER?!” you've never heard him like this, not with this type of enthusiasm.

“OTTO HIGHTOWER IS A FUCKING CUNT!!!” you screamed to the sea.

Daemond shook you by your shoulders as he yelled to the gods this time, “TOGETHER!”

And that is precisely what you did, in unison, with all the air you both could muster you both screamed.

“OTTO HIGHTOWER IS A FUCKING CUNT!!!!”

You broke out into hysterical laughter, this felt so relieving, being able to curse for the first time and not be reprimanded or punished. Daemon laughed as he fell back on to the sand and you collapsed once again between his legs, letting your head rest on his chest.

The laughter between the two of you subsided into breathless heaving as you and Daemon attempted to catch your breathes. Until silence fell to the waves of the ocean.

“Thankyou Daemon”

He looked down at you with a look of confusion, “For?”

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his torso, “You saved me from falling off Caraxes, thankyou.”

Daemon let out a soft sigh placing his hand gently on your head, carressing your hair, “I could never let you fall, my dear.”

Tag List: @moonmaiden1996 @loveandlewis @loveandlewis-reads @queenofshinigamis @omgsuperstarg @ttae-yong @shelbyteller

Give your thoughts and opinions below! Thankyou all so much so your support in this work!

Much Love To You All,

Naelys of House Aster x

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #Daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #the rogue prince #daemon targaryen insert #daemon targaryen fic #daemon x reader #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon insert #hotd #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones x oc #targaryen x reader #house of the dragon x you #got insert #got #house of aster

623 notes · View notes

naelys-the-aster · 2 years

Text

Jorrāelagon Zālagon Chapter Three

Word Count: 7,462! (Worth it, I promise you)

A/N: We're still not done, there is more to come!

The comfort of the whisking winds and whipping waves could almost lull you into slumber, Daemon’s warmth could keep you planted on this beach all night, but you broke the peace.

“Daemon.” you chirp not moving from you position.

He hummed in response his eyes closed.

“I-I I need to know something…” you studder out you fingers curling around the dark black and red fabrics of his shirt.

“What is it you need to know?” he mumbled tiredly.

You could’ve asked him so many question, why is he doing this? What was his intention extending his favor? Why did he bring you here? Why was he in Rhaenrya’s room at the peak of dawn? Even more questions in which you yearned for answers for came pooling into your mind, though the answers to those questions, are what you feared.

You looked up at him, seeing his eyes slowly open to meet your own, “You didn’t… kill all those people, right?”

He breathed a heavy breath out and paused before sitting up, forcing you upright as well.

His demeanor changed in an instant it seemed and his voice came out colder than the winter itself, “Do you think I killed them?”

“…” you couldn’t answer that, you weren’t sure, not completely- you needed to hear it from him, not Rhae, not anyone else. You broke eye contact looking away from him, not sure of how to respond.

Your indecisiveness in a response was all he needed. He stood up abruptly, dusting the sand from his clothes harshly, in an act of annoyance or frustration. You sat in the small crater your bodies hand made in the earth.

He scoffed turning away from you, “You think I kill for fun? For amusement? You think I would take the lives of the commoners that call me prince?”

No, no, no, this is what you feared. Crushing a tender moment with false accusations and lies, with confrontation. You felt yourself being you shake with worry and before you could speak he turned back to you, glaring down at you… a look that you never seen in his eyes.

Hurt. Betrayal?

His voice raised in volume until it echoed though the beach.

“I swear on the gods, on my honor, my pride, the house of my family- I DID NOT KILL ANYBODY!” his voice was deeper when he was angry, it shook you and reverberated to your heart. You were not used to being yelled at by him- but maybe you deserved it for spoiling a sensitive- no, a perfect moment.

The familiar hot sting of tears burned the corners of your eyes but your glassy orbs went unnoticed to the prince, he was gone already, stumbling heavy footed up the shoreline to the stone steps you both had come from less than an hour ago. He left you alone. To sulk with yourself and your thoughts.

The tears fell heavy but no sounds followed, no whimpers, no cries, and no pleading with yourself, the gods, or Daemon.

He had thought you suspected nothing but the best in him, at least that’s what he was trying to do, for himself and secretly for you. But no- he commits arson to the structures of Flea Bottom, he kills over 300 people, for no reason other than to have the credit- at least in your eyes, or that’s how he saw it. He was furious, the rage boiling inside him was as hot and deadly as the lava that flowed from the volcanoes of Dragonstone. He swayed as he climbed the steps of the castle without looking back at your form left on the beach.

As he entered the massive doorway he threw his fist into the stone finery, as hard as he could as many times as he could. Until he could not bare the sickening cracks sounded through his ears. Blood fell in in large droplets to the floor eventually flowing freely from his mangles hand and he found that he couldn’t move his fingers.

He groaned loudly leaning against the walls of the empty corridors, clutching his bloodied fist.

The only thing that could lighten his mood was a drink, so tonight he would pull a cork from the largest barrel of wine they had in the cellar, and he would indulge himself until he could no longer. It will make him forget, forget the accusations, forget the public humiliation, forget what you had just said you him, maybe he could forget all the hectic bullshit that he had to constantly be reminded of.

He stumbled into the kitchen quarters, still coming down from the five glasses of wine he’d indulged at dinner.

“My prince.” a male servant greeted and gasped noticing the blood trail following him, but Daemon pushed past him not even paying him a millisecond of thought, he strode into the kitchen and down a short flight of steps… now how was he going to get the barrel up the stairs?

You sniffled wiping your nose on the sleeve of your dress.

“You had to ask…” you mutter to yourself. He flipped on a coin; he was so content at peace- almost angelic but then…You didn’t know what to believe anymore, if he was so offended maybe he didn’t do it. He wasn’t someone who killed for fun, he had gotten into brawls at ale houses, he beat men for their crimes, but killing for no reason…maybe it wasn’t him. Like Rhae said, if he had done it he would’ve been exiled or executed on sight, not burdened with marriage.

“Maybe he will fare better with Rhea Royce.” you say to yourself burying your head in your sand cover hands.

You stopped.

What did you just say? You repeat yourself in your mind, did- did you actually think Daemon was courting you?

“No… he’s just being nice, he’s just trying to make me feel better…about myself.. my life..” you assured yourself through tears.

He had probably heard of the death of your beloved parents, he felt bad about you being around Otto consistent belittlement of you, maybe this was all out of pity so that you wouldn’t want to throw yourself from the window of you bedroom in Kings Landing.

It grew later and the moon had moved across the sky, there was no telling how long you’d been sitting alone, burying you feet in the sand. Part of you no longer felt welcome in this castle and it was in this moment you wished to be back at Kings Landing with Alicent and even your uncle.

You slowly walked up to the stones steps drudging upwards to the mountain side . You looked ahead of you to notice Daemon had left the door to the castle open.

You sniffled again and wiped your eyes one last time before slipping into the castle quietly closing the door as quietly as possible. As you walked down the hall small dark droplets littered the floors of the corridor, only to reflect the moon light peaking through the windows.

You crouched down, swiping up the liquid with you fingers.

“Molasses?” you questioned aloud. No.. the texture was different, standing to your feet you swayed to the window letting the light illuminate your hand.

The crimson shade glistened with the moon, just to be sure you brought you finger to your nose and the metallic scent invaded your nostrils.

You gasped “Blood?” your brow knit togethrt in confusion and worry.

You peered down the hallway to see a trail of it. “What then hell?” you uttered under your breath, worried.

Tiny droplets every four or five steps almost lead a trail down the hallway

“Hello?” you greeted only to the darkness around you.

“Daemon? You here?” you voice shook as you called out

Nothing. Your eyes followed the occasional drops on the floor and soon your legs carried you in that direction of the kitchen. One one surfaces you saw blood smeared on the corner of a table. Your anxiety was starting to rise rather fast, what if this wasn’t Daemon? But even worse what if it was? Had you caused him to hurt himself?

“Oh gods, what if he’s bleeding out? What if he’s cut? No..” you held you hand to your mouth at the very next thought that crossed your mind.

Your thoughts stopped immediately as the scene was starting to look even more terrifying. Broken glass in concerning amounts, covered the floor of the kitchen and lead down a small pathway of steps into pitch darkness.

The hair on your neck and arms stood up straight, numbing chills ran through your body, you felt nauseous all of a sudden.. and you mouth began to salivate while you felt your stomach churn.

Quickly, you clasped your hands tightly over your lips fighting back the urge to vomit.

“Daemon if you’re down there say something!” you called out though your fingers, and again you got no reply, not even a groan or raspy breath, just the echo of your own muffled voice

. You drew in a deep breath, exhaled, and turned the corner grabbing a candle holder that light the hallway, one that was bright enough for some clarity. Carefully you stepped down to what you began to realize was this was not a basement or a crypt, it was a wine cellar.

The candles light softly illuminated your surroundings allowing your eyes to take in what disarray the room was in. Wine was spilled everywhere, so much of it that it was soaking into your slippers, so much of it, your nose scrunched up at the bitter smell of fermentation. You turned the candle stick to the aisle and began your descent deeper into the darkness. Looking from you left to your right to scan each barrel, there was blood smudges of many of the barrels, and finally you had reached the mess ahead.

Corks were strewn all about, two empty wine barrels laid on their sides, broken and shattered wine glasses covering the floor. But alas, he was not here. You quickly made your way up the steps and placed the candle holder back in it proper place.

Your mind spun, what had happened here? You cursed yourself for not touring the castle when you had the chance, you could’ve just gone to his quarters to check on him.

“I have to wake Rhaenrya” your thought balling your fists taking off- speeding down hallways trying to recognize any architecture that would lead you to her. Eventually the hallways you turned down looked familiar, from the art and antiques that decorated the corridor you knew Rhaenrya’s room was close by.

As you approached her doors you heard the muffled voices of two familiar individuals.

It was Daemon and Rhaenrya, they were speaking in their native tongue. You didn’t know how to feel at this moment so many emotions were running through your head. There was a small crack in the door, and your curiosity once more grabbed tight of you.

Daemon was laying in her bed, his clothes seemingly removed from the top half of his body, his hand wrapped in a bandage, and Rhaenrya laying at his side.

They were speaking High Valyrian and unfortunately you could not translate, but the sight of Daemon in Rhaenrya’s bed struck a hurtful chord with you. Maybe the rumors are true, Daemon is a man who whores around, he swipes women off their feet in the moment, takes what he wants and leaves...

You watched as she rolled on her side to face him and clicked her tongue.

“Ao issi daor hae pōnta ūndegon ao hae…” (You are not as the seen you as you are…) “Ao issi nykeā mittys” (but you are foolish.)

her voice sounded so serious, you prayed they would say a few words maybe you could make out, and when Daemon spoke, he sounded drunk, very, very drunk.

Daemon moaned a loud, a twisted expression of shock was all that formed on your face. You tried to adjust your view but the crack in the door was but a sliver, and you did not want to draw any attention to your presence.

You listened closely once more.

You heard Daemon let out another groan, “Skoros gōntan se giēñrȳī vestragon hen issa ondos?” (What has the maester said of my hand?)

Rhaenrya looked like she was running her hands through his hair, but then again you could not decipher the scene infront of you.

“Daemon, avy jorrāelan se nyke gaomagon daor jaelagon naejot ūndegon aōla ōdrikagon!” (Daemon, I love you so, but I wish not to see you hurt!)

“Issa fucking ondos” (my fucking hand) He snapped.

Rhaenrya sat up next to him looking tired and exhausted, and he laughed drunkenly, slurring his Valyrian “pōnta yne brōzā iā killer se jaelagon nyke naejot gūrogon iā ābrazȳrys. qilōni kessa emagon nyke? zūgagon ondoso se issaros iksan sworn naejot mīsagon” (they call me a killer and expect me to take a wife? who will have me? feared by the person I am sworn to protect.)

“Killer?” you questioned to yourself.

“Ziry teptan ao tolī olvie milk hen se poppy” (They gave you too much milk of the poppy)

“kostagon ao naejot kipagon hemtubis Daemon?” (Can you ride tomorrow Daemon?)

“Ziry jittan se fucking vōljes, ziry gaomas daor jaelagon zirȳla hen hen zȳhon ondos!” ( He sent the fucking raven, he does not want her out of his hands)

“qogralbar bona uēpa orvorta”(fuck that old cunt), it sounded like nonsense to you… you wondered if his slurs even made sense to Rhaenrya.

She sighed, sounding even more annoyed, “Kostagon ao udligon nyke?”(Can you answer me?)

“ā tubi ēza dar naet rēbagon se jaelzo zirȳl iēdrosu” (only a day has passed and he wants her)

“Gaelon zirȳlo”( I want her).

His last line of speech was almost complete nonsense and you noted his eyes were rolled in the back of his head, it was out drawn-out vowels, that of which you weren’t sure held any meaning in that language.

Rhaenrya lifted herself from the bed until a hand, presumably Daemons grabbed her arm. “Daemon, I have no clue what you’re rambling about, whatever you are doing please stop

This is nonsense, I can hardly understand you! we need to go home-” He grabbed her hand and began muttered nonsense yet again, he pulled her close to him.

“Come to bed with me.” He pulled her on top of him and placed a kiss on her head.

“No, no, no.” you back away from the door letting your back hit the wall, this was- just no. You had not spurned him this much, for him to turn to his niece? He was drunk yes, but- the very thought made you nauseated once more. You steadied yourself on the walls, slowly side stepping down the hall until you were far enough away to run. You found your room after wandering for the rest of the evening, you closed the door behind you and threw yourself on the bed.

Something went out, a flame inside you, and you fell on to the cushions of a couch.

your head fell into your hands…“What in the hell?”

An uncomfortable situation lead to a sleepless night.

Daemon woke up, unfortunately to the early morning rays of the sun shining directly in his eyes.

He groaned and turned his back to the sun. Groggy and definitely hung over, he sat up in- this was not his room he was quick you realize. Before he could mutter a word, a wet washcloth came in contact with his face. Daemon was too hung over to protest or fight, he turned his head to see Rhaenrya in the doorway, her chests and luggage being carried away by the servants and maids.

“Get up, we’re due back in Kings Landing” Rhaenrya spoke, rather too loudly for Daemon’s current condition. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell back into the bed.

Rhaenrya rolled her eyes and stomped toward his side of the bed, ripping off the comforter and blankets “Daemon Get Up, You Have To Fly Y/N Home!” she shouted.

Daemon rolled onto his stomach burying his face deep into the pillow. Rhaenrya shook her head, pissed off, and smacked his head sending him shooting upright.

“Take her! I will remain here!” He snapped.

She looked at him as if he was the stupidest man alive, “You have the double rider saddle! Syrax has already been befitted with the luggage!” she grabbed the towel from his lap and threw it over his head once more, smacking him the face even harder.

“Y/N’s belonging are packed, so are yours, we leave in an hour.” she stated firmly as she walked with heavy heels to the doorway.

Before she left, she turned to the soiled prince in frustration. “I have no idea what has gotten into you, you’ve ruined the kitchen and the cellar, the halls reek of spoiled wine and the servants are displeased! You spent the night in my bed, droning on about God knows what- I’m the one who should be weary! Get. Ready.”

The thundering slam of the door pounded into Daemon’s head. It must have awoken something in him. He shot out of the bed, stumbling past armchairs, dry heaving.

He ran to the first thing he could find, an ancestral urn, and he heaved as he threw up violently. Nothing but the dark red color of wine filling the urn.

Daemon leaned on the center table, trying find his balance, attempting to adjust to the sunlight and the world itself spinning around him. Caraxes will have to do most of the navigating this trip home.

He grabbed the urn again, tilting it to view the contents inside, which prompted him to vomit again, but more profusely. His memory of last night was slowly coming back to him in bit and pieces, and he ran his hands down the length of his face in exasperation, blinking hard trying to focus his vision.

He scowled and set the urn back in its place muttering a low apology to whomever rest inside.

Daemon just prayed it would be overcast for the flight home.

You felt a hand shake your shoulder and your eyes fluttered open to see Rhaenrya standing about you.

“Rhae, what is going on?” you asked tiredly rubbing you fist against your still half-closed eyes.

“We’re leaving today, Y/N” she stated pulled her hand from you.

You looked at her confused, “What about the horse back riding?”

Her eyes held a sadness that you couldn’t describe, “We been commanded back to Kings Landing”

You sat up and threw your legs over the side of the bed, “What happened?”

Rhae paced herself to the door and gave you a sad smile back, “Under the King’s request advised by the Hand, he would he like us to return home immediately.”

You frowned and nodded, “May I seat with you?”

Rhae shook her head, “Daemon has the double saddle, I’ve had your things backed with Syrax, Daemon should be up within the hour”

The frown did not fade, “Okay..”

Rhae looked down feeling your sadness in a way, but not for what she may think.

“I’m sorry this trip came to such an abrupt end; we can convince my father to let this happen again.” she softly closed your chamber door leaving you to dress in private.

You dressed yourself with what you had worn the previous night, your black dress with dark grey embroidery, though you slept (not for long) your hair was still styled in the way of the Targaryen’s and looked undisturbed. A servant guided you to the shores of the beaches and you saw Syrax flying off in the distance.

Caraxes had been readied to depart by the dragon keepers and was howling loudly in anticipation, You walked the beach with your you arms crossed hugging yourself in an attempt to comfort yourself for the awkward situation to come. You kept your eyes locked on the ground in front of you, this was going to be strange, you were pretty sure of what you had seen last night. Even thinking about it almost drew tears to the surface of your eyes.

Daemon was leaning against Caraxes with his head bowed. The dragon keeper called for his attention in Valyrian, Daemon perked his head up and replied, waving the keeper off. You didn’t make eye contact- you couldn’t, not without breaking into tears.

Daemon pushed himself off Caraxes, in his motions you could tell that he must’ve been feeling the consequences of last nights bender.

His hand wrapped in a cloth that was dirtied with dried blood. Daemon walked towards you, his steps quick to approach, and as he did your eyes stay glued to the beach’s sand.

This wasn’t overlooked by him, he noticed the change in your manner compared to the giddy excited woman he took on her first dragon ride yesterday, and for that he blamed himself.

He approached you, instead of joyfully throwing you over his shoulder, instead of flashing a smile, he came to you stone faced and vacant. You looked up at him, mimicking the same emotionless face. He looked tired, his eyes, usually clear, were blood shot from the heavy drinking and his hair was unbrushed but pulled back as usual.

It was a strange parallel, you looked clean and kempt, your hair still perfectly in place… and he, disheveled, dirty, his shirt stained with the darkness of wine, he smelled of it.

He tilted his head to Caraxes and you immediately registered the gesture and began to follow behind him.

Not even the high screeches of the scarlet beast broke your unshowing expression.

When you came next to the beast Daemon called out, “Dohaeragon zȳhon, Caraxes.” And Caraxes extended his fore wing out to you as Daemon gave a gesture with his eyes, from you to the saddle.

You felt nothing but sadness as you came to the realization that he did not want to romp around and he didn’t feel comfortable even putting his hands on you. Had what you suggested stunted all emotion for you, all physical contact? You nodded at him, climbing up the dragons arm as it’s groans and heavy breaths filled your ears, straddling the back saddle. Daemon exhaled loudly before pulling himself up the dragon’s side to sit infront of you.

You sat unsure of what to do, did he not want you to touch him? Would he become upset if you did as you did yesterday? Inside your mind you panicked and peered down at your hands, frozen.

Daemon unclipped a long leather strap from one of the reins and pulled the length of it into a small pile in front of him. You glanced up at him seeing that what he had looked similar to a large belt. Confusion overplayed your stone face but immediately vanished once you understood what he was doing. He turned his body and wrapped the large strap behind your back and continued to circle around to his front, tightening and clasping both of you together.

Was he…this disgusted with you because of your implication of him? From a simple question? He didn’t use a strap on your ride here yesterday, something inside you wanted to break down. You wanted you cry, you wanted to sob, to bury your face into him and beg his forgiveness and tell him you were sorry. But if he could be so cold to you now… it may not even matter if you apologized, he may not ever breathe in your direction if you did.

The silent man in front of you ran his hands along the length of his face while letting out a long breath before shaking you from your mind, “Soves.”

Your body jerked from side to side as Caraxes ran along the length of the beach, he jumped and spread his wings catching the winds easily. You closed your eyes and gripped the lip of the saddle, fearing you might actually fall off until a hand reached yours.

Daemon grabbed your hand pulling you into his back and wrapping your arm around him. Caraxes leveled with the sky after fighting the winds whipping off the shores and he let your arm retract back to your side.

It was a five-hour ride back, Daemon was silent the entire time slightly hunched and unmoving, but you weeped quietly letting the furious winds wipe your silent tears away. You let out no sound, no whimpers or choked sobs, you matched Daemon’s silence but not his expression.

Daemon, the hungover prince whom had been given a gracious amount of milk of the poppy the night prior.. for his hand, unknown to you, was actually passed out and unaware of your distress.

He sat hunched but upright, his eyes had closed the moment he let go of your hand.

It felt like an eternity sitting above the clouds in silence until the structures of Kings Landing became visible. A feeling of dread washed over you. What was worse? This feeling of despair and guilt or the feeling of your uncle’s rule over your life? You couldn’t decide- but it didn’t matter, like always it was not your choice.

Caraxes screeched and Daemon’s eyes shot open, and he drew a sharp breath in. You noticed he pulled the reins tightly guiding Caraxes towards the Dragon pit. He circled the dome before coming to a hard landing, one that send you crashing into Daemon’s back causing him to grunt.

The dragon keepers yelled commands in High Valyrian and Caraxes laid down to their demands. Daemon let out a strain groan while he unfastened himself from you. You remained quiet as he did so, shrinking into yourself. Daemon tossed the strap to the ground carelessly and threw his legs over the saddle. He jumped off the high back of Caraxes hitting the ground with a loud thump followed by an abrupt series of curses

“Someone help her down!” he shouted as he walked away from the crowds of dragon keepers. He glanced back at you as the keepers helped you down from the large beast and frowned inwardly and turned around to the direction of Flea Bottom.

You pushed passed the keepers and saw Daemon’s small form in the distance, you felt the tears blur your vision as he walked further away and soon out of distance.

“I ruined it… didn’t I?” you cried to yourself shaking your head letting the tears run down your face.

“That’s okay, this is okay.” You wiped your tears with your hands, this was going to be the new normal and like everything in your life you had no choice but to accept and adapt to it.

Your escort came to quickly collect you and bring you to your Uncle, who was waiting for your outside the gates of the keep.

A solider helped you from the carriage and you thanked him looking over to your Uncle.

“Did you enjoy your venture?” He questioned, a hint of suspicion lingering in his voice.

“Yes Uncle, it was pleasant.” He nodded at your reply.

“Im glad to hear, we are pleased to have you home Y/N.” Otto motioned for you to follow him through the gates into the castle.

“I do hope you conducted yourself as a proper maiden.” He turned to you. Your brows knitted together in confusion. What has his insinuation?

“I don’t understand uncle… what do you mean?” He glared at you and stopped walking, being quick to look around to see if there were any passersby.

“You think of me as dim, niece? Do you think of me as a blind man?” his voice was stern…angry almost.

Nervously you shook your head, “N-no Uncle. I’m sorry I don’t- I don’t know what you mean.”

He lunged forward and clasped your cheeks in between his hand, forcing you to meet his close cold stare. “You know what I mean, child” he growled, “If you let him soil you maidenhood-“

You pulled away from his grip bewildered. “No!” you yelled with wide eyes.

Otto glared knives through you and finally narrowed his gaze, “Go to your quarters. Your meals will be brought to you, do not leave unless I instruct your cousin to escort you.”

You stared him down hard, your eyes not leaving his, your brow furrowed and your fists balled tightly.

He turned away from you, swiftly gesturing you off with a wave of his hand. As he turn his back to you, you sneered with disgust, but a part of you wished his accusation had been true.

12 days passed and you had not seen the prince, he was absent from the corridors, the gardens, the tea rooms, and the vast libraries. Were you seeking him out? It felt as if you were... but also weren't, these were places you frequently regularly.

You enjoyed the intricate and intimate murals and etchings in the large stone corridors, the tea rooms smelled of a floral incense and sage with lighting that calmed your mind, and you loved the vast fables and tales written in the knowledge of the library.

No.. you weren't actively seeking Daemon out. Especially not because of the tender moment he and you shared under the stars of Dragonstone.

But where was he? Rhaenrya knew not of his location, or maybe she did and refused to tell, but either way each person you inquire to about the prince left you without a breadcrumb trail to his whereabouts. Caraxes had not left the Dragon pit since your return.

As you sat alone in the gardens, reading a tale taken from the library a realization can clear in your mind.

"He does not want me close and he may not want my company at all"

You inwardly scolded yourself, "you're an idiot, you over stepped a fine line and look what it is causing you"

Sighing you closed the book, you looked around the lush garden sprung to life with different colors of poppies, lilies, asters, roses, and malvales. Servants quietly made there way down the cobblestone pathways aligned with neatly trimmed brush and bushes.

A part of you wished to confide in your cousin of the deepening sadness you felt, but, she did not favor Daemon in the slightest, she practically despised him at best. She thought of Daemon as a vagabond, whom took advantage of people to get what he wanted, no matter who he had to bring down to get it. She questioned you of your travels as she visited your chambers the night of your return. You had this deep feeling that she was trying to get information out of you…courtesy of Otto Hightower.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No.."

"Did he lay his hands on Rhaenrya?"

"He did not."

"You promise did not sully the honor of you and Rhaenrya?"

You cringed at the question, though you had seen Daemon and Rhaenrya laying in her bed, it was not of a sexually intimate nature, she was clothed Daemon was… semi clothed and speaking high Valyrian.. a language unfortunately you could not decipher. But he did kiss her, albeit on the forehead. Though.. you had your doubts.. he did ask her to come to bed with him, but you retreated no wanting to bear the pain any longer, a pain of which weighed heavily on your heart and mind.

You left room for no hesitation in your response , "I promise Alicent, he is not the monster you think, he was nothing but cordial to Rhaenrya and I"

Her eyes stared at you , as if she was putting you under a looking glass, almost as if she was waiting for a notion of a lie. She broke eye contact and sighed in relief throwing her arms around you for a tight hug. You hesitantly wrapped your arms under hers returning her gesture of relief, but you were unsure... of this situation.

Otto of course disfavored Daemon, it was blatantly obvious from out bursts in council meetings and the outburst at the court the other day. This only tugged at your suspicion towards your uncles intentions.

Yes, there was something off.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I- I just am worried, Father tells me of his atrocious actions and- I fear him and his affiliation with Rhaenrya... with you" she pulled away from you taking your delicate hands in hers.

You forced a smile, the most genuine one you could muster, one that would hide your suspicions.

"Thankyou cousin, I'm glad have you and Uncle looking out for my safety".

Daemon couldn't have been involved with the fires of flea bottom.. could he?

He wouldn’t have anything to gain by dragging his name through the mud, but your uncle would benefit heavily from Daemon’s dismissal from the castle, the court especially.

But Daemon was seen in the area of the fires…

No, Daemon said to you himself, he swore to you on his honor that he would not endanger the commoners like that. If Otto was involved, then this was treason! But what if he wasn't? The mention of an accusation by your mouth could easily be considered treason from your mouth, putting you in danger. It was like you were stuck between a rock and a hard place.

You could go to Rhaenrya and offer the probing curiosity behind the fires of Flea Bottom- that by some chance you finally had a hunch in who may know more.. but there was the chance that she could tell Alicent your assumptions, and your Uncle would be furious with you. That was a chance you wished not to take, gods only know what punishment or he would cast upon you.

Locked away in a tower?

Exiled without any fortune?

What if he sold you to the slavers?

Death?

All of that was off the table.

"You seem troubled, my Lady"

You gasped, dropping your book, gazing at the source of the sound,.

"Oh, hello Larys, I-I’m sorry, I'm just deep in thought from my readings" you feigned a smile leaning over to pick up the book.

He was the youngest of Lionel Strong’s male heirs, quiet, quaint, a black sheep of the family as you recall your uncle saying. He wore an iron cast around his disfigured stump foot that made his foot falls easily distinguishable. He was weird, but kind to you, offering you strange advice occasionally in the form of metaphors and riddles.

"A maiden in thought is one in distress they say." he mumbled taking a seat on the bench next to you.

"I distress over this book!" You laugh, "not one story I grasp seems to end happily for all, only terribly for one and extravagantly for the other"

Larys nodded and rested his chin on the know handle of his walking cane.

"Yes, it seems life can only favor one party at a time, not all can be satisfied" he mused.

Why was he here?

"I understand you've been in pursuit of a certain white haired prince as of late,"

Is that why he was engaging you? Had he known Daemon's whereabouts?

Your smile fell from your face and a serious expression replaced it in an instant.

He continued on lazily, " I hear of whispers the prince has taken to the street of silk, venturing on many endeavors." His eyes drifted to your emotionless face, his brow raised with a deadly curiosity.

You cast your gaze you the ground, trying so utterly to keep your calm and steady composure, tightly pursing your lips as you put two and two together.

He was whoring.

There is no other reason to lurk the streets of silk other to bed someone in a back alley or low town brothel. No other reason than for men to dip their cocks and cum into a woman, nothing but to thrust themselves into whatever hole may have them for a cheap price.

You felt you heart sink, the disappointment was prominent across your features over casting your natural beauty.

"Why do you tell me this?" You mustered calmly through your clenched jaw. Larys sits up and clears his throat, "you wish to visit the prince? Do you not have questions regarding his crimes...Lord Hightowers possible crimes?"

Your heart pounded, ice water felt like it rushed through your veins, this was the first time Larys seemed so intimidating, a stalker, a spider watching your every movement, he was a predator.

You played coy but stern, "I have no clue what crimes you insinuate my father or Daemon to be involved, I'm surprised Larys.. such accusations- assumptions could easily be conceived at treason against the crown. Wouldn’t it be a shame if this conversation was heard and returned to the ears of Lord Hightower?" your narrowed eyes glared to his, but you were smiling, letting him know that you will not be toyed with.

He must have taken the hint clearly and stood up, fumbling but soon steadying himself on his iron club foot. A move you chalked down to him playing weak, possibly trying to tug at your sympathies.

"I mean no such harm, but if you wish to see the prince..." he held out a small a piece of paper of paper to you, "then go to him, my lady."

You held back the instinct to scowl in disgust and snatched the paper from his hand, "Good day to you Larys." you seethe grabbing your book and turning on your heel exiting the now spoiled beauty of the gardens.

"What a...." You thought for a second, for the right word you come to mind, and you felt yourself smile.

"Fucking cunt"

You locked your chamber door behind you, as you walked quickly to your bed you searched around the area, double checking that there was nobody lingering that could seen you unravel the piece of paper.

Drawn on the paper was a map, specifically a map of the street of silk. Covered with squares made to represent the building and structure, and in one of there squares was a red X.

You wanted to see him badly, you wanted to plead to him that you were sorry, that you missed him, his touch, his voice, his snide comments, and remarks. You wanted to tell him he was good, no matter what his past held, that you wanted- no you yearned for his company.

It broke your heart that he was gone and you needed him to know to come back..come back before-

“A fortnight..” you whispered to yourself, 14 days before he’s betrothed… if he hasn’t chosen someone already.

You waited for night fall before throwing on a black hooded robe and making your way on to the streets on silk with a map in hand. You pulled up your hood and began to search around for the building on the map with the X, the name of the establishment gave away that it was a run-down hostel that doubled as an ale house, “The Sleepy Drunk”.

The streets were crowded with oceans of people, beggars, postitues, performers, and oddlings. Thought there were a few helpful people you met along the way, pointing you in the direction you needed to go and wishing you a safe travel. You stepped over bodies passed out in the street, observing if any of them where Daemon.

“what if he wish not to see me? What if he’s entertaining a prostitute…what if that’s all he’s done since he left?” Your heart sunk deeper than before imaging you walking into a room just to see Daemon on top of some random woman.

You soon came across the Ale House looking down at your map and up to the sign to verify that is was the place. Usually a woman would be questioned of what she is doing in a dingy place, she’d be putting herself in danger of encountering a drunken rapist or murder…or both accounting to your uncle. But as you passed the threshold, not a single soul noticed you. The men kept carrying on singing drunkenly, women serve ale in a state of undress, and more men where arm wrestling while their audience cheered them on. You scanned the room for someone still briefly within their sense and approach the bar tender.

“Aye, women work not drink here” The man gruffly stated not looking at you and continued to sand down his counter top to be washed.

“I don’t come to drink, I came here for a white haired man who may look…” you were starting to like this double life “ like pig shit.”

This caused the man to chuckled and he looked up at you, “Ah, I know who you mean, down the hallway first door on your left”

You happily nodded, and slipped a gold coin from your pocket on to the counter. You paced yourself slowly down the hallway, heart pounding in your ears and throbbing behind yor eyes. Afraid of the situation to come. Was he fucking some whore, was he bedded with another beloved, was he even alive? You sent your hand on the door and took a deep breath, finally pushing it open.

You stepped into the shabby room, cement walls that looked as if they were glazed with humidity, uneven stone floors where covered in filth, and the candles lighting the room did the aesthetics no justice. But there was no whore, no, jst a cot thrown in the corner a lump of blanket and pillows covering a person, whine bottles and empty cups scattered along the bedside. You stared with serious eyes and a deadpan expression, was this the right place?

You tip toed around the mess to the side of the bed, yes, there was a person covered in many tattered and torn blankets, with a pillow covering the persons face. You held your breath drawing out a shaky hand and removed the pillow to expose.. a sleeping Daemon.

His eyes closed and mouth slightly agape, his breaths steady and consistent but not a snore. You breathed out and put your hand to his shoulder giving him a slight shake.

He grumbled but didn’t open his eyes, so you shook him again- a little harder. He gave the same response but rolled on to his side. You rolled your eyes and with two hands shook him harshly.

Daemon turned over quickly sitting up “I said fuck off!”

You flinched falling backwards on to your ass with your mouth hung open in shock. His eyes went wide and the both of you stared at each other, your eyes peering into his lilac purple ones.

“Y/N?” he squinted hard trying to make out your form. He blinked a few times to clear his vision to see it was you. You had come to the most dangerous area’s of Kings Landing… putting yourself in danger, for him.

You couldn’t hold back, you launched yourself at him in a tight hug. Daemon couldn’t even react as he fell back on the cot, you on top of him, he in shock. He wasn’t sure if this was real at first until he felt your warmth seep though his soiled clothes.

You felt his arms slowly wrap around the small of your back. The warmth of his arms immediately sending goosebumps up your spine.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck and your body began to shake with silence sobs

“D-Daemon” you whimpered softly.

His eyes darted around the room, still unsure if this was real or just some sort of hallucination due to acute alcohol poisoning.

“Why did you come here?” he asked. His voice was hoarse, and he sounded tired- exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept for two weeks.

You pulled away from him, blushing hard realizing you were straddling him, quickly you fixed yourself next to him. You wiped your face and sniffled, “I’m sorry- Im sorry for assuming that- that- Im sorry I accused you of the fir- res, I haven’t seen you in weeks, Pl-please Daemon I miss you, and -”

Daemon leaned forward crashing his lips you yours. Your eyes went wide, and he brought a single hand up to cup your cheek as you reciprocated the kiss, melting into him and letting your lips move in sync with his.

He pulled away, bringing his bandaged hand up to cup your other cheek. His eyes gleamed in the candlelight and his voice was soft as he spoke, “I want you.”

You were confused, in want manner did he want you? But you received your answer with his words to follow.

“Y/N, be my betrothed, be my wife”

@moonmaiden1996 @loveandlewis @loveandlewis-reads @shelbyteller @queenofshinigamis @omgsuperstarg @beggarsnotchoosey @pastelorangeskies @thanyatargaryen @bietchz @roseanimelover @caspianobsessed @girl-of-many-fandoms

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #house of the dragon #game of thrones x reader #house of dragons x you #hotd #daddy daemon #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x oc #house of aster #got insert #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon x y/n

611 notes · View notes