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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year

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A Song of heart and blood - part four | Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Summary: After an horrible prophetical dream, you find yourself traveling through time to try and save your sister, Daenerys, from her fatal ascension to the Iron Throne. During your mission, your heart derives you from your duty and you fall in love with your ancestor

Word count: 1.9k

masterpost

A/N: Some chapters are shorter than others and that’s okay

Sailing across the Narrow Sea — to Pentos — took five days. During these five days, you were confined under the ship's deck between crates of grains. It wasn't the most comfortable — your body was aching from sitting and sleeping on the wooden floor for so long —, but at least it wasn't sheeps. Albeith cute, they are animals and their shit stinks. When you are stuck in a small space, you don't want to be surrounded by sheep piss and shit.

Once in Pentos, you headed south — to Volantis. It was a long and lonesome journey.

When you found yourself in front of the stones, you pulled out the grimoire from your travel pouch and, fingertips away from returning where you belonged, you froze. Memories of your sister flowed in your head, missing her terribly, then faded to another pair of violet eyes. Daemon’s. The night you met him in the city, all those nights spent together, the taste of his lips on yours and the feeling of his touch.

You reached for your necklace, ‘’Sorry, Dany,’’ then retracted your hand.

The journey back to King’s Landing was even longer, but once you made it to land, you found yourself facing a wall. Where were you going to go? What were you going to do? You doubted Otto had abandoned his investigation while you were away. Your absence in the city must have been notified to him too. Whoever was working for him would immediately report your presence if seen.

For this reason, you needed to remain on your guard and keep an eye out at all times.

Covering yourself with your hooded cloak, you wandered around the city through the smallfolk, trying to think of your next move. Unfortunately, no answers came to you.

The sun began going down and your stomach was rumbling and clenching. You were tempted to steal some bread off a table to calm your hunger, having not eaten since yesterday morning, but the man who was selling it looked strong enough to break your arm if caught. So you continued your way, looking for something easier to steal.

After taking three left turns, you noticed a figure in a white cloak was following you. A woman. Her face was familiar, but you couldn't recognize where you knew her from. Was she Otto's spy? There was no way to tell, but in case she was, you had to get away. You quickened your pace, panic rising in your chest as you searched for a quick hideaway.

Although you had spent a long while in the city, you didn’t know the navigation very well. You darted between the smallfolk, trying to confuse the woman behind you. You didn’t dare look over your shoulder to see if your plan had worked — you ran.

You ran as fast as your legs carried you and just as you turned a corner, you bumped into someone. You opened your mouth to apologize quickly, but an arm grabbed you, stopping you from getting away. At this moment, your heart stopped in your chest — you thought you had been caught. That whoever had grabbed your arm would take you to Otto Hightower and that it would be your end, but the voice that spoke was not one of danger.

On the contrary, it brought you immediate security.

‘’What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in a whole moon.’’

Daemon's eyes appeared surprised to see you, and you couldn't blame him. You had slipped out of his bedchamber while he was asleep and given no signs of life since. To his eyes, you had gone for good.

You opened your mouth to speak, but instead clutched Daemon’s jacket, needing to feel him in some way. ‘’I believe I am being followed,’’ you uttered out.

The corner of Daemon's lips curled. ‘’Another brewer upset you didn't buy his whiskey?’’ He assumed, but when you didn't laugh, his brows furrowed. He took a glance behind you, then took your hand and pulled you with him. ‘’Come.’’

He didn’t need to know who was following you or make sure you were being followed to start weaving between the crowds and leading somewhere he deemed safe. You had difficulty following his pace, not knowing the city quite as well.

You halting abruptly when he took you to the brothel he spent most of his nights at. The same brothel you had shared a goblet of wine that one night.

You stopped at the doors, shaking your head. ‘’Not here.’’ A plump brunette woman came out of the brothel. Her eyes landed on you and Daemon, the both of you standing out in a crowd of commoners. She tried to lure you in with her inviting eyes, but you tore yours away from her. ‘’Somewhere safe,’’ you added with pleading eyes. ‘’I…I believe I am in great danger.’’

A veil of concern washed on Daemon’s face, his protectiveness rising. ‘’How?’’

Sparing him the time traveling part — for now —, you gave him the short answer. ‘’Otto Hightower is after me. He has eyes looking for me in the city. If he finds me, it will be the end of House Targaryen.’’

You reached the island of Dragonstone in under an hour.

It wasn't very far from King's Landing, but Daemon promised Otto didn't have any eyes nor power here. The castle and land belonged to Princess Rhaenyra, but it was currently inhabited — other than by the few wild dragons.

You clung to Daemon during the first minutes, your stomach queasy and terrified you would fall and die. The mountains seemed so small from up high. Sensing how tense and terrified you were behind, one of his hands had let go of the saddle and came over yours on his stomach, caressing the back of your palm with his thumb in a silent reassuring touch.

It seemed to work because your fingers soon relaxed and you began getting used to the new sensations. The strong wind in your hair and hitting your face, the rumbling of Caraxes's breathing underneath you, the landscape from up high.

Perhaps you could get used to flying.

Dragonstone was an important land in House Targaryen history. You had studied its history back in Braavos and seen drawings of the island in books, but it turned out to be even more beautiful than you had imagined.

The castle towers were shaped by Valyrian magic to look like dragons to make the castle look fearsome and dragon architecture could be found throughout the castle; small dragons framing gates and dragon claws holding torches, a pair of great wings cover the armory and smithy, and dragon tails form archways and staircases.

After landing, Daemon helped you dismount and brought you to the Sea Dragon tower, which was shaped like a dragon gazing serenely out across the sea. Its hall was wide and entirely made of stone.

You had been born in this very castle.

Your mother, Queen Rhaella, had died in this very castle.

Daemon’s eyes followed you as you admired the ancestral castle. ‘’Welcome to Dragonstone,’’ he said, walking through the hall as if he owned it. ‘’Everything has a layer of dust, but it’s the safest place I know.’’

‘’It’s beautiful.’’ A large dragon was perfectly sculpted into one of the stone walls. Its details were impressive — the scales and spikes each crafted meticulously, the burning stare in his eyes, the claws.

‘’Indeed.’’ Daemon’s boots clicked on the floor, getting closer to you. ‘’Though I do wish we would have crossed paths under happier pretenses, I am just relieved to have found you again.’’ He hovered over your shoulder and kissed it.

Your eyes flutter closed at the delicate touch of his lips, but you forced yourself to move away from him. ‘’I’ve done an horrible thing.’’

‘’Whatever you've done, I probably have done worse—’’

The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them. ‘’I've killed a child.’’

Your cruel doings made you sick to your stomach, but you had no other choice. You had to save Daenerys. You had to save House Targaryen. Their fate were in your hands.

Leaving your dark confession pending, you walked over to the window. You could see the volcano — the Dragonmont. It was still in activity, but hadn’t erupted in years. Caraxes was above the mouth, flying freely.

Daemon was silent which was nothing good. You remember his reaction to the miscarriage and how you had held him as he processed the news. Now that he knew who was behind the miscarriage, what would happen to you? Would he tell his brother? Viserys would have you behead without a doubt.

Using what could be your last words, you began explaining your motive. ‘’The king was right about the child being a boy. His name was Aegon II and he was going to be the downfall of House Targaryen.’’

The sound of Daemon's laugh echoed. ‘’A child will be the downfall of House Targaryen?’’

‘’Yes,’’ you said strongly, winds blowing through the window and catching in your silver hair. ‘’I know this because I have read it in books.’’

You shifted on your feet, a knot twisting in your stomach. The truth was about to be unraveled and you were terrified. What if Daemon doesn't believe you? All that travel back to King's Landing will have been for nothing.

‘’I've got something to tell you. Something else.‘’ You drew a breath and jumped. ‘’My name is Y/N Targaryen, and I come from the future. I...I was born here, on Dragonstone — 150 years to this day.’’ You turned and looked up to search for a reaction from Daemon, but his face was blank. ‘’My words might sound mad, but I am speaking the truth, Daemon—’’

‘’The truth?‘’ Daemon said, his violet eyes rising to look at you. ‘’You told me you were born in Braavos, yet you are saying you were born here.’’

‘’I grew up in Braavos,’’ you corrected. ‘’My brother and sister and I were brought there after our parents’ death. I have not entirely lied.’’

Daemon's brow furrowed. ‘’Why should I believe you?’’ He didn't give you time to say anything, suddenly looking furious, any ounces of tenderness wholly erased from his features. ’’I trusted you, I took you to the Keep and you used me to stab my family in the back. You killed my brother's unborn child!’’

‘’I had to!’’ Tears welled in your eyes. ‘’I had to,‘’ you repeated. Your words were spoken so gently the prince barely heard. ‘’170 years from now, the Targaryen lineage will be almost extinct. My sister Daenerys and I are the last Targaryens, but according to this dream that I had, I would’ve been the last Targaryen standing if I didn’t stop Aegon II from seeing the light of day.’’ You hesitated and closed your mouth before opening it once more. ‘’If I had let Aegon II live, the dragons would have danced. The dragons must not dance, or it would be the death of them all.’’

Daemon frowned at your riddle. ‘’What?’’

‘’Come the day King Viserys dies, his firstborn son, Aegon II, will be crowned king instead of Rhaenyra and a civil war — a war of succession — will begin between the wrongly crowned king and the rightful heir and queen, Rhaenyra. They call it the Dance of the dragons. A lot of people will die in this war. You die in this war—’’

A hand came around your throat, its hold strong enough to lower your intake of air, and forced you to look up. Daemon's violet eyes were filled with rage and underlying fear, the likely motive to his sudden violence, while yours were begging him to let go of you.

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#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd #hotd imagine #daemon hotd #a song of heart and blood #sorry for the last scene #I made several messes and started over too many itmes

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