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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

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You Were Meant To Be Mine

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Having decided he hated you when you were children for seemingly no reason, as you grew older, you made reasons for the Targaryen prince to repel you, which made for the most uncomfortable of atmospheres. Now that you were of age and seemingly so keen to be betrothed, your archnemesis makes it his mission to ruin your plans.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Fem reader, you have brothers who have names ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, enemies to lovers themes, fluff, a bit violent, insufferable!Daemon, typos etc.

A/N: This is inspired by this prompt and a bit by the song from Heathers 'meant to be yours' and it honestly came out flufflier than expected. I made a fake house ok i literally just used the icelandic translation of star T_T

also I MADE AN ENTIRELY SEPARATE 10k daemon fic... do you wanna see?

psa: i did some edits on this since posting it

"Congratu-fucking-lations," I slur, feeling my entire face heat up as I smile. The lady Gemma, who I was greeting, turns about, looking for whom spoke to her, yet finding that I was crouched down, flailing my head and arms for sport.

She makes a face, "Lady Stjarna?"

I still in my actions, then perk up, shaking my head, breaking into another smile, "yes?" I inquire, then break into a laugh, "oh yes," I clap my hands together when I remember why I was standing in front of the bride, "My Lady Gemma, I am so pleased that you have finally found a match. You and your lord husband will surely-" I hiccup and slightly burp, "- make an army of beautiful children."

Gemma, my childhood friend, who had not regarded me in the longest of time and only came to invite me last minute because one of my brothers got promoted again, made a disturbed face with wide eyes, "where is your brother?"

"Why?" I pull an annoyed pout, "do you fancy him still?"

Gemma, who was standing right next to her sister-in-law, Carolina, who was too my childhood friend, but decided along the way she also did not like me, begins to twitch.

I sigh, grabbing the cup from Carolina's hand, downing its contents. Once my mouth is empty, I hand the cup back to its original owner, "glad am I that neither my older brothers, Johann nor Gunnar, not even our youngest, Ari, found any interest in you at all."

I hear the sound of the devil's muffled laughter in my head.

"You insolent wench," Carolina mutters under her breath, thinking it was soft enough for only her and her new sister to hear.

I smile wickedly, "may your womb be bountiful and may your house prosper." With a final curtsy, I turn about and walk away.

I manage to walk far enough to catch sight of the banquet table. Before I could pour myself a glass of wine again, quickly, a hand swoops in, pulling me by my shoulder, and I am faced with a face that makes my day more bothersome than it already is. It is my youngest brother, Ari, brows curled in concern. With his free hand, he takes mine as he leads me into a dance against my own will. He jests too strongly, too early, "and you wonder why so many detest your effervescent aura, sister."

I give him a pinched look as I stomp my heel in front of me in an attempt to crush his foot. Being too used to it, he quickly pulls his leg away and clicks his tongue, pulling me close to push me back into a twirl, "you have drank too much, too early."

Once I am before the young lad again, I give him a look, "when has that stopped father?"

He sighs, "you are not father, you are you, a Lady of the house Stjarna."

"I'm trying hard not to be," I grumble, beginning to circle around my brother in continuance of the dance, "as is father, Johann, Gunnar, our cousins, even our servants!" I look off in the distance as I speak, looking for the face of my father, feeling my heart skip a beat when I see him and our eldest brother Johann, conversing with the Lannisters.

Once I am in front of Ari again, my face is beaming, and it causes him greater concern.

"Father talking to the Lannisters," I tell him breathlessly, "they could be talking about my marriage prospects."

Ari's forehead tenses even more, lips curving into a frown, "does that notion truly bring you joy?"

I roll my eyes at him as we press our hands together to the beat of the music, "it does. As it should you! An alliance with house Lannister will mean you can rise in the ranks quickly to join our older brothers."

Ari is visibly troubled by this.

I clench my jaw at his expression and halt in my movements. I decide our dance is over, promptly pulling him aside. Once we are alone far enough from the dance floor, I mumble to him, "you will not understand until you are in the crosshairs of fate and you've had to raise your younger brother because your mother was killed in the cloak of night."

Ari grips my arm as we make it to the side of the room, "and I am grateful for it, for everything you and everyone has done for me! But I am not a child anymore, and I do not wish to see you wed a scoundrel for my benefit," he whines, voice growing softer but more frustrated with every word.

"That scoundrel of which you speak, is the richest man here," I mutter under my breath, "and it would do you good to-"

"Conspiring again, are we?"

The unmistakable voice rings in my ear, and though my younger brother hastily turns to whom spoke, quickly greeting him with a bow and, "your grace," I forfeit the pleasantries and keep my eyes fixed on my brother.

Once Ari is facing me again, I place a hand on his shoulder and give him a half sympathetic look, "there is nothing in the world I would not do for you, for our family. My heart beats only for the glory and survival of our house."

"But you don't-"

"And I am doing this precisely so that you would not have to sacrifice your own dreams for the same thing," I give him a pointed look and place both my hands on his cheeks, "do you understand, Ari?"

My brother averts his gaze, unable to meet mine. I release him and gently nudge him back, "now go dance and make merry. It is your privilege."

Ari sighs, bowing his head in acceptance. He then turns to the side, bidding farewell again to the man who had been standing there for gods-know-what, "my prince."

I watch as Ari fades into the crowd, still unwilling to look the said prince beside me in the eye, lest I hurl out my insides.

"What dutiful sister you are. I bet many bachelors are even willing to slay a dragon for your hand."

I let out a prolonged hum in a failed attempt to calm myself down, "why would they need to fight a dragon, pray tell, when I have nothing to do with them?"

I finally look at him, Prince Daemon, with his long silver-white hair, violet eyes, and ghastly annoying curved lips. I respond to his smirk with a stoic look and move to walk past him. He, however, in his good old fashioned pettiness, speaks in a volume too loud, "will you not even greet your prince?" practically forcing me to stop, lest I give these wenches more reason to whisper about me.

I turn about with not a hitch and curtsy, dramatically, impossibly low, and I even flash the realest fake smile I reserve especially for fuckers like him, "my beloved Prince Daemon."

The Demon is pleased by this and by how many people are watching in this moment.

I rise after a good moment passed, knowing by then a lot less eyes were onlooking. I step forward, looking up at the idiot, thinking of exactly what will wipe that smirk off his face, "heir to the iron-- oh," I look away, pretending to think, "apologies, what were you heir of again?"

Daemon eyes darken and yet he does not forfeit a laugh. He masks his annoyance in this, but I know him too well to miss how his jaw clenches. It is finally then that I turn away from him and head outside the blasted banquet hall.

I silently pass a few servants of the house and bring myself outside the building. I make my way to the gardens of the estate, surprising even myself with how I still knew place well even after the years that have passed since I last visited.

My mind begins to spiral, in thoughts most uninvited, like, why Lady Gemma, and the rest of whom I believed to be my friends, began to simply stop thinking of me as such.

I wonder if it was when I became motherless and began to prioritize teaching my baby brother at the age of 11. I sigh, wrapping my arms around myself at the thought. No matter how much I try to understand, I just don't. What changed in me that made them turn away?

Through my deep thought, I was still very much aware of my surroundings. It doesn't take long for me to feel the presence that was lingering behind me, the persistent thorn to my side that just refused to be plucked off. I didn't have to turn around to know who it was by my heels, and yet I do. I throw my skirt around me and glare knowingly at the prince who was a mere few steps away from me, "must you persist even now when no one is looking?"

"It is most exhilarating to hunt in the intimacy of an empty forest, knowing no one can interfere no matter the outcome." Daemon did not cease in his steps as he said this, and continued walking towards me, up until there was nowhere to step, and yet he pressed closer still.

I knit my brows tightly at his attempt to push me back and I place my hands on his arms forcing him the other way.

"You're supposed to step back if a man does this to you," he states.

"I will step back for no man," I grunt, successfully shoving him off me, not having moved an inch from where I stood.

Daemon reels back, only slightly, but it matters not, for he was still pushed away. He chuckles at this and tilts his head, "your strength is impressive. You have not wavered since we were children."

I roll my eyes and turn from him, continuing my walk.

The insolent Targaryen invites himself to walk to my right. I know it is pointless to argue with him about it, so I decide to ignore him instead.

"I hear you were invited to the Strong's estate recently."

I do not waste my breath with a response.

"And yet I saw your father and your brother with Jason Lannister moments before I saw your horrid face."

Daemon is not granted the satisfaction of a reply, which is why he resorts to saying, "you must have been too overbearing with your new match that your father had to quickly look for a newer one."

I am unaffected by his words, but I still choose to turn over to him, "my father is not nearly as quick about me as you are, however."

He smirks at that, placing his hands behind his back, "if I didn't know any better, you sound like you think I care for you."

"Well, obviously you do," I snap at him, "or else you would not be accompanying me in this dark deserted garden, warning me to back away if men decide to lay their hands on me."

Daemon makes a face, "you should not allow any man's hand upon you," he quips.

"None but you?!" I blurt, stopping beside him, then stomping over, "I am so sick of your arrogance! I even decided to be the bigger person between us, and yet you persist on sabotaging me, to make spectacle of my existence and force my suitors away."

For a moment, Daemon basks in the fire, absolutely in awe of it.

My rage is continuously fueled by his entertained expression, "I know for certain it was you who injured Sir Armand on his travel to our estate, and you who sabotaged the travels of house Frey to our region."

I half expect him to egg me on, to feign ignorance, and yet he says nothing.

"I don't understand what sick sense of fulfillment you earn from this, but you need to stop it and focus on destroying your own prospects."

The sound of his laugh enrages me even more, "you should be pleased I've done you a favor of allowing better suitors to come forward, or else you would have readily settled for a pig with but an acre of land."

I shudder, hands balling into fists, "so you don't even deny further, you insolent twat!"

"My detest for you was never a secret to start, my sweetheart" he breathes out hotly, a dragon baring its teeth, face uncomfortably near mine.

"You stupid fucker!" I blurt, managing to land a slap on his face and a hit on his chest before he finally caught my flailing arms and growled at me in warning. I am not intimidated in the slightest, not even with his nose nearly brushing mine, not even when both our hot breath was hitting each other's skin.

Though I am perfectly aware I am no match for his strength, considering how I am basically locked in place under his tight grip, I refuse to relent. He could kill me if he wanted, I honestly wouldn't care, for then, at least, I would not have to deal with him any further.

This is why I shout right at him without a second's thought, "I'VE ABOUT HAD IT WITH YOUR TOMFOOLERY!" I wrangle in his grips in an attempt to break free, "I would curse you never to marry and die an old lonely man, but I'm sure you would want that," my chest begins to tighten, "for there is no shame in you choosing to die a bachelor, yet it is a mortal sin of mine to even breathe the air my age without baring children!"

My face begins to crack out of anger and tears begin to build in the corner of my eyes the more I speak, "I am a shame to my house," I bark, as Daemon's grip tightens around me to further cease my violence, "to my father, to my brothers, to my dead mother especially, for living this long as a maiden! And you feel no remorse for me for you a man, a prince, born to be pacified, lest they wish to end up as dinner for your overgrown lizard!"

I can no longer withhold the tears from my eyes as I remember what happened to my beloved cousin who was unable to marry. She was far fairer than me, far kinder, and yet no one would have her over rumors planted by our rival house that she was impure.

I break into a sob. Daemon slips into bewilderment. He begins to panic, unaccustomed to this emotion. His grip on me begins to loosen. It was his mistake. I take the opportunity to knee him in the groin and shove him off me.

I watch him crumble. I nearly smile and think to bask in his suffering.

Once he is crouched in the ground, moaning in his pathetic pain, I wipe my tears and angrily spit out one last time, "make no mistake. I care not if you are prince or king. You will not stand in my way."

Daemon watches as I walk away.

Days have passed since the wedding and my most unsavory encounter with the royal idiot.

I was in much brighter moods as of late, since I was met with more options than ever over whom I could marry. In his own delight, my father decided to host a tourney in our estate. Houses of far and wide were invited to come, and just in his thick-faced fashion, the Prince Daemon decided to attend in honor of his house Targaryen.

I had begged my father not to invite him, but he would not risk shunning the crown over it. My father did make it a point to have my brothers distract the vermin, knowing too well his volatile tendencies when he is around me. It made for but a peaceful half hour for me since the time he got here.

It was too quickly he managed himself out of Johann and Gunnar's company and so rudely uninvited to mine.

The moment I saw him coming towards me from across the stand, I mentally prepared for the hell he was about to unleash, and asked the man I was conversing with to take his leave.

"What do you want?" I airily growl at Daemon once he gets close enough.

Unbothered, completely amused, and seemingly relieved, he releases a sigh, as he watches my latest proposition walk off behind me, "you seem completely out of luck, so I decided to rub on some of my own on you," Daemon started, hand darting over, gently caressing the skin down my arm causing goosebumps to ride around me.

I pull away and rub the area roughly in disgust. I turn to him, not liking the solemn expression he held, "what's it going to take for you to leave me alone, Daemon?"

He barely manages to hold in the quirking of the corner of his lips at the familiarity, the sheer impertinence of it all, "it's as though you are unaware it is my favorite sport to vex and rile you up," he licks his lips slowly and leans in to whisper, "you wouldn't want me to tell everyone about how we roughly spent the night alone in the garden, now would you."

I heave as he pulls away, lips in a lopsided smile.

I do not manage a retort, as suddenly I hear the trumpets sound, followed by an announcement, "Sir Ari of house Stjarna has challenged Sir Jason of house Lannister!"

I feel my heart leap to my throat. My jaw drops and my hands instantly sweat. Why would Ari do such a reckless thing when he barely even could go against me in a fight? He was too unconfrontational for this.

The prince watches my expression, but I could not care less about him in this moment more than ever.

The guests, who were preoccupied with other festivities, quickly make way to watch the show. I quickly make my way to my father, in hopes to stop this ridiculous match. I push past Daemon, uncaring that I shoved him in the process and hurriedly comb through the crowds. I move as quick as I could and yet once I find my father's face from across the sea of people, it is far too late. The sound of restless, chuffing horses fill my ears and the crowd cheers as the beasts whine in anticipation.

My heart races, "ARI! ARI!" I call from the side, practically begging, using all of my energy into my screams. It is pointless though as the crowd is too loud for anything to be distinguished and it seems my brother is wholly immersed in the game, face tense and distressed.

I look between Ari and his opponent, feeling my insides churn at the Lannister's dark grin.

The cue is given, and soon the two order their horses to run and go at it with each other. I rip my fingers through my hair.

Jason allows my brother the courtesy of the first blow and did not even move his lance to Ari. Ari manages to hit him and the crowd cheers, but having watched far too many tourneys in my time, I know that would not be enough to beat his opponent. The second time around when the two gallop towards each other, Jason is not so kind and hits my brother right in the chest, causing the wooden beam to break into a millions pieces.

"ARI!"

Ari has not fallen yet though, and foolishly rides once more, coming around the third time. I do not see what happens next however, for I'm making my off the stand to run to the players. I do freeze a moment when the crowd goes wild and suddenly the trumpets sound again, along with the announcement, "The winner is house Lannister!"

The next thing I know, I am on the playing ground running over to my fallen brother who was writhing on the dirt. Our servants are upon him, gathering his unconscious body up to be moved away and tended to.

I barely even get in front of my brother when a horse gallops beside me, then in front, effectively blocking my path.

Jason Lannister looks down at me, ripping his helm off, offering me a perverted smile, "do not be distraught, my lady, it was only a game, and I swear to you I have not gravely injured your brother."

I shudder at the sound of his voice, feeling my cheeks grow cold, only now realizing it was due to my tears wetting them. My insides however were burning in anger. Seeing him look down on me like this made me want to do nothing more than to shove him off his high horse. I could not show it though, not to him, not in front of everyone and my many other present suitors.

Jason's lips curve, "I do hope it would not be cruel of me to request your favor, my lady."

I sniffle, releasing a breath before choking out, "not at all." I turn over my shoulder and shout, "hand me a wreath!"

A servant runs up to me a moment too long in my taste, as I had to stare at Jason Lannister's face the whole duration.

I hand him the wreath, which he plainly gets and keeps on his wrist. I offer him a quick curtsy and he nods before galloping off, enticing the cheers of everyone. He basks in his phony glory as I take to the sidelines where I began to look for my brother. It does not take a lot for me to see him laid on a makeshift bed with our family maester attending to him.

"Ari!" I exclaim the very moment, running over to him, falling into a fit of sobs.

"Worry not, my lady," the maester speaks, as he wipes my brother's face, "Lord Jason's words hold true. He did not severely injure young master Ari."

I break into a choke, crumpling down on the floor by my younger brother's side, gripping his leg in anguish. I groan in distress, "how could you be foolish enough to challenge someone?! And Jason Lannister of all people?!"

My unconscious brother, of course, does not respond, but one of my servants do, "pardon my brazenness, my lady, but I do believe sir Ari did so because of how that... Lannister heir spoke lowly of you."

I turn to my servant and look at her in expectance, "what did he say?"

Before she could reply, the trumpets sound again, and there is an announcement, "Prince Daemon of house Targaryen has challenged Lord Jason of house Lannister!"

I perk up at the sound of that and rise from where I was, walking to my servant, "what did he say about me?"

She sighs and looks away, "he said he was doing a you a favor by marrying you, although everyone knows you would make an impertinent wife."

There is a a loud crashing sound, followed by the cheers of the crowd.

"The winner is house Targaryen!"

I look out to the playing ground and find Daemon, clad in his arrogance and his armor, mounted on a horse trotting over to me. I spare a glance at his fallen opponent, Jason Lannister, who looked far worse than my brother had, yet feeling no remorse for him.

I look up at the prince once he is finally upon me. If I hadn't known any better, he looked distracted by my tear stained face, and so I do the talking, "do you require my favor as well, my lord?"

Daemon eyes flicker up and down me. He steals a look past me, seeing my unconscious brother, then decides to ignore me, turning his horse around, trotting to the direction of my father, "Lord of house Stjarna."

My father watches the rider come closer.

The prince continues, "you held this tourney in celebration of your fair daughter's many marriage proposals, and yet your son has been left injured by a man who wishes to marry her."

Daemon's gaze falls back on me, his horse continues to gallop back and forth in restlessness, "I request that you withdraw the Lannister," he starts, turning back to my father, "my losing opponent, from her list of suitors for this reason."

I knit my brows at that, feeling an inexplicable feeling rise within me.

My father stares at him for a moment, debating the gravity of his words, before replying, "my son knew what he was getting into. Tis but a game played in good spirits. I hold not my son's loss to Sir Jason, nor should he hold his loss to you."

"Well, if you cannot remove him for that reason," the prince raises his face up proudly, "remove him as my request as a winner of your tourney."

Johann, who was now behind my father begins to mutter something behind him. My father raises a hand to my brother, then releases a breath before asking, "and why would you request this, if I may so inquire, prince Daemon?"

"Because it is my understanding Sir Jason is her strongest prospect, and I should like to be her main suitor instead," he responds, making the crowd erupt into hushed whispers.

My father lets out an incredulous laugh. Johann, behind him, looks down at the prince, brows raising the way it does in times where I begin to anger him. My father however cuts himself off when he sees the serious expression on Daemon's face, "pardon me, your grace, but you have never shown any interest in my daughter before. One would even think you do not take kindly to her."

"No, I don't, do I?" he mutters, chuckling himself, "yet you of all people know about the disruptions of her previous proposals, disruptions, you have been aware of for a long time, that I have caused-- at first due to my boredom."

My father's face hardens.

Daemon face contorts into a smirk, "I've only realized myself why I have been so adamant about causing your daughter trouble," he turns his horse over to me, catching my eyes, "very much recently."

The crowd is bustling at the notion, eating up the Prince's words like roast beef.

"When, if I dare so ask, did you realize this, my prince?"

"During Lady Gemma's wedding," Daemon turns his horse around, "when I accompanied your daughter to the gardens," he looks back up to my father, "and we roughly spent time alone in the cover of night."

Instantly, a chorus of gasps fill the air.

That fucking piece of Targaryen shit.

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