vassia-sparta

[vassia-sparta]

Daemon Targaryen x OC (Stark)

So, this is my way of coping until the new season of House of the Dragon is released.

Synopsis: After Daemon is wounded during a patrol with the City Watch, how will his Stark wife react?

This is a oneshot, and contains adult themes, so anyone under 18, please do not read.

You have been warned!

Also, POV is from the OC.

Enjoy!

I had been having tea with the Queen and a few of her ladies, when word came that my husband had returned from his patrol down in the city. That was not the concerning part though.

“I heard from one of the men of the City Watch that he was wounded my lady,” the servant girl stuttered. “Wounded seriously.”

I got up from my seat, hastily made my apologies to the Queen, then made my way out of her chambers and down the many corridors, passing by a lot of nobles and servants, ignoring their enquiries and whispers, hurrying to reach our rooms.

I could hear my husband’s screams and curses all the way down the corridor that led to our wing of the keep. That put me a bit at ease, so I slowed down my pace, coming to stand right outside the entrance to our bedchambers.

“He is in a bad state my lady,” ser Frederick Selwyn, his second in command, said to me when he saw me. “He is wounded, but he is in too much pain to let the maesters sew up his wound. They suggest we try to give him something to sleep so they can help him, but he won’t let us.”

“I see,” I nodded, going through the half-open door, pausing when I heard another string of curses coming out of his mouth as he tossed a vial of something the maester gave him. The thing crashed against the wall, coating it with whatever salve was inside it.

“I will not be drinking anything you grey sheep want to give me,” the Rogue Prince yelled, turning away from the poor maester. He was one of the newer ones, barely three months here in the capital. Two of his acolytes stood in the corner, their wide eyes watching Daemon’s every move.

“My prince, you have to listen to the maesters,” ser Marwyn Westerling, one of Daemon’s close friends, tried to reason with him, but the Rogue Prince wouldn’t listen.

“I don’t have to listen to any of them,” my husband raged. “I am fine, I just need to rest a bit.”

I could see at least one wound on his right side, though it was a small one, and another on his left shoulder, bigger and deeper, both bleeding. His tunic was soaked through with blood, and yet he still didn’t want the help of the maesters. I knew well that his stubbornness would be his undoing. He’d rather die than let someone help him.

“Everyone, please leave,” I called out in a clam voice.

The maester jumped at the sound of my voice. He must have been scared out of his mind, after coming face to face with an irritated and wounded Targaryen prince.

“My lady,” he approached me, his voice dropping to a whisper, “if we don’t treat your husband’s wounds, he will bleed out.”

“I will take care of my husband, you can go now,” I assured him, giving him my best serene smile.

The men hesitated for a moment, but one look at the wounded dragon warrior was more than enough to convince them to leave. They knew better than to force their luck with him.

Ser Marwyn hesitated at the door, but I just smiled politely at him, nodding that I would be fine.

When the door closed, leaving us alone in the room, I turned to face my husband. He had sat down on one of the chairs near the balcony, breathing heavily.

“Rough day?” I simply asked, making my way to a nearby table, pouring a glass of his favorite strongwine before I walked up to him.

“Nothing a dragon cannot handle, she-wolf,” he spat, taking the glass from me and downing it all in one go.

I smiled to myself, amazed at how he would continue this little game we had going on ever since we were forced into this marriage. He would call me she-wolf, and I’d call him rogue dragon. We both refused to use each other’s name, if only to irritate each other. It worked, on both sides.

“Well, it seems this time the rogue dragon has bitten a little more than he can handle,” I nodded at the wound on his shoulder.

“This?” he wiped at it with his hand, wincing a bit as he touched it. “This is a lover’s caress,” he smirked, his eyes glinting with sass.

“Well, your lover has some pretty sharp nails,” I smirked back at him, unfazed by his barb. “What did you do, did you tell her that you found someone else and won’t be fucking her anymore?”

He looked up at me, his eyes wide.

“That is no way a lady should be talking,” he warned me.

“But I’m not a lady,” I reminded him. “We have long since established that I’m merely a she-wolf,” I shrugged, taking his glass to refill it.

As he drank his second glass, I went to a basin of water and drenched a piece of cloth in it. I made my way to him, then started to clean his skin from all the blood.

“Fuckin’ piece of work, he caught me by surprise,” Daemon muttered, leaning back his head and closing his eyes.

“Ambush?” I questioned, taking extra care around the wounds. The one on his side had stopped bleeding, it wouldn’t need stitching, but the one on his shoulder, that was another story. Whoever had hit him, it had gotten him good.

“That cunt was hiding behind a corner, with an axe at hand. Went right through my armor, would have taken my head off if not for ser Strong.”

“Why would someone attack you for no reason?” I questioned, walking up to the basin to rinse off the cloth. The water turned pink, darkening every time I dipped the cloth back in.

“Not like I have a great army of friends in the city. I probably killed one of his gang buddies or something, sliced his brother’s hand for stealing, cut his best friend’s dick for sticking it where he shouldn’t have, the list could go on and on,” Daemon shrugged, wincing as his wound gushed some more blood.

“Yet people still call you the Prince of the City and cheer for you at every tourney,” I reminded him, trying to clean his other wound. “Surely you must have some who like you, especially around the Street of Silk,” I smirked at him.

He looked up at me, his face growing serious. I didn’t know why he looked at me like that. It was no secret he was a frequent patron of the many brothels residing in the Street of Silk, both before our marriage and after. I ignored him, more focused on the task at hand.

After I finished cleaning his wounds, I took thread and needle, refilled his glass, then set out to stitch him up.

“Better drink that, this will hurt a bit,” I warned him as I threaded the needle and approached him.

He focused those dark violet orbs on me, and I found myself having trouble breathing for a moment.

I always had that reaction when Daemon looked at me like that. From the moment I first laid eyes on him, that fateful day at the throne, just before my father and king Viserys had announced that we were to be wed, the Rogue Dragon had stared at me with such intensity, I might as well had burst into flames right there. The weirdest part was, I had liked it. I wanted his attention. And he seemed to appreciate my presence, licking his lips as he eyed me up and down. It should have felt wrong, but deep inside me, I was thrilled that I appealed to him.

Alas, that had lasted all but a few moments. After the betrothal was announced, a surprise for him if according to his shocked expression, Daemon turned colder than the Wall itself. During one of the walks we were forced to take in order to ‘get to know each other better’, he made it clear to me that he had no intention of marrying me, but he was merely doing it because his brother forced him too.

Any hopes I had of a happy marriage vanished in a moment. Rumors of his previous marriage had of course reached me, but my father had assured me that I would be different. I was nothing like lady Rhea. I was the daughter of the North, lady Lara of house Stark, daughter of the Warden of the North and one of the prettiest maidens in all the Seven Kingdoms, as some would say. Yet, none of that mattered to Daemon Targaryen. He never acted according to rules set by others. He always followed his own rules, the others be damned. After that walk, he didn’t spend one second around me, preferring to spend his nights with his friends and his whores in the various winesinks of the city.

The night of our wedding, he came to my room and made it clear that he had no intention of bedding me, nor would he ever touch me. This marriage was forced upon him, and he had no desire to consummate it. It was a knife in my heart, a complete destruction of any dream I had for my marriage. I was not silly. As a noble woman and daughter of a great house, I was expected to marry for political or diplomatic reasons. Yet, I hoped that, maybe whoever I had to marry would at least make the effort to get to know me, and then he’d try to make this marriage work.

No. Not the Rogue Prince. He continued with his nights in the brothels and the training of his men, as if our marriage had not happened. I had to endure the whispers and gossip of the ladies at court, maintain a calm demeanor, while the wolf inside me howled with fury. At some point, I had fallen in love with my heartless husband, and therefore was doomed to suffer a marriage to a man that would never want me.

Many had suggested that I follow lady Rhea’s example and go back to Winterfell, away from the whispers of the court and my husband’s cold behavior. It seemed enticing, I admit, but I rejected the idea. I was not some measly girl that would run back to her parents in tears. I was a wolf, and I would show everyone that I was not afraid in the face of hard times.

Life went on and now, almost a year after our marriage, Daemon and I had settled in a sort of routine. We both avoided each other during the day, but made sure to keep a united front against our common enemies during assemblies or feasts. He never slept in our shared chambers, but was at my side whenever anyone tried to get a rise out of our situation and make a fool out of me.

Chief amongst those who sought to humiliate this marriage was Lord Otto Hightower, the King’s Hand. Gosh, how I hated that man. It was the one thing Daemon and I shared. Our disgust at the upstart lord from the Reach who sought to rule the Seven Kingdoms while trying to move the King around like a puppet.

It was during a banquet that Daemon and I first realized that we had that in common. We were celebrating the birth of prince Aemond, the second son of the king and the slimy lord Hand had the audacity to come to our table, baby Aemond in his arms.

“Such a delight that the king has another son to continue his legacy, isn’t it?” he had asked in that annoying voice of his.

“It is indeed my lord Hand,” I had agreed, trying to keep appearances. Daemon, on the other hand, didn’t deem it worthy to answer him.

“Perhaps you should make some effort to give a son to your husband my lady, it has been quite some time since your marriage, hasn’t it? Or has prince Daemon been keeping too busy with the City Watch?”

His comment and that sneer on his smug face made my blood boil, but I took a deep breath to calm myself down. Beside me, Daemon seemed ready to jump at him, but I took his hand in mine under the table, squeezing it slightly. He turned to look at me, a small surprise dancing in those dark purple eyes of his.

“My husband is doing his duty to his king, keeping the city clean of the criminals,” I replied calmly. “Perhaps you should do your duty and find a way to keep our people fed and busy, then maybe the people will stop stealing and murdering, and his talents with a sword won’t be needed so much.”

“Surely he can stop his patrols for a while to tend to you, right?” lord Otto turned to Daemon, and I felt my husband twitching to snatch the little weasel and crush him under his boots.

“I understand my husband’s duty, and I am patient. When the time comes, the Gods will bless us with a child,” I replied, still holding onto Daemon’s hand. Its warmth gave me strength, somehow.

“I did ask your husband to take one of my sons as his lieutenant, but it seems the Rogue Dragon is too proud to accept my help,” lord Otto sneered.

“Which of your sons, the one that runs after boys or the one that I squashed during my last tourney?” Daemon smirked at his adversary.

Lord Otto looked furious, but didn’t say anything.

“The City Watch needs soldiers with extraordinary fighting skills and the guts to do what is needed,” I intervened, not wanting to cause a scene in the middle of the banquet. “Who better to fill that post than the finest warrior of the Seven Kingdoms? I am sad to say that, according to rumors, neither of your sons are known for their prowess my lord,” I smiled sweetly at him. “Wasn’t it ser Gwayne who lost in the training yard yesterday, after ser Harwin smashed him to the ground two minutes into the fight?” I turned to Daemon.

“Why yes it was,” he smiled at me, that teasing smile that could make a septa give in to him. “The poor thing was on his back bleeding, when ser Strong had barely touched him. I assure you my lord, if I took him with me to the patrols, he’d run back to you in tears an hour into the service. How did he earn his spurs, I’ll never understand.”

Daemon turned to smirk at his adversary, his eyes shining with glee. “Then again, you were never known for your skill in the battlefield, am I right? Perhaps your sons took after you.”

The weasel looked furious, but didn’t say anything. After he left, I let go of Daemon’s hand, conscious of how long I had held on to it.

That night, as I was making my way to our bedchambers, I found him waiting for me outside.

“Something wrong my prince?” I questioned, confused as to why he was here this late at night.

“Why did you defend me?” he asked, straight to the point. His face was devoid of any teasing of playful tone. It was the most serious I had seen him since our wedding day.

His question took me by surprise.

“Why not? You are my husband after all,” I shrugged, pushing the door open.

“That is no reason to defend me,” he insisted, following me inside.

“Then I don’t know what to tell you my prince,” I shrugged, sitting before my mirror to take down the elaborate braids my maid had woven my hair into for the night.

“What do you have against him? The Hand never moved against you or your house. Why would you side with me?”

I sighed, the tiredness of the evening making me antsy.

“Look,” I got up to face him. “You might ignore it, but the fact remains that we are married. And though that is no reason to defend you, I do recognize that you do fine work with your men all around the city. You do what you were born to do, wield a sword and swing it on those who deserve to die. The Hand is too proud to understand that, and he decided to make fun of us and our marriage right to my face, in order to get a rise out of you and humiliate me. That is low, even for him.” I turned away, reaching for my hair brush.

“You could have kept quiet,” Daemon suggested.

“We are married my prince,” I looked at him sternly. “That makes you part of my family. I don’t let weasels like him hurt my family.”

Daemon stood there for a while, penetrating me with his sharp gaze.

“Good night my lady,” he nodded lightly, then turned to leave without another word.

From that day on, he became just a tad kinder to me, and I even caught him staring at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. Just as he was doing now.

I pushed my anxiety deep down, and focused on the task at hand. I cut the tunic off of him, leaving his muscular chest bare.

“Are you ready?” I asked him.

“Go on,” he merely replied, taking another sip of his wine.

I came to stand beside him, then started the slow and painful process. I tried to keep the stiches as small as possible, to keep the wound from scarring terribly. I could see several scars on his muscular back and chest, remnants from the battles he had participated in. He was a true warrior, more comfortable in a bloody battlefield fighting his enemies, than in a palace full of courtiers, playing the game of thrones.

In a way, I understood his discomfort. He was a wild creature, preferring to do what he wanted over what was forced upon him. I too longed to be free to do as I wished, but my sense of duty forbade me from acting on my desires.

Halfway through the stitching, Daemon had consumed his fourth glass of wine, and looked a bit drunk. His eyes shined, and his face had turned a slight pink. He kept his gaze on me as I worked on him, and I tried my best not to flinch. This was the first time I had been so close to him for so long, and the fact that he was half naked only added to my discomfort.

Though I had never known the touch of a man, I was no stranger to what went on between a man and a woman behind closed doors. Prior to my wedding, some of my lady friends, the more scandalous ones, had dragged me into a secret corridor that led to a sort of observation deck. Hidden behind a wooden panel, we watched as two servants used an old storage room to house their secret affair. I still remembered the things that man did to his lover. How he used his mouth, his hands, his whole body to give pleasure to the young woman. I wanted to feel that, what it was like to be in a man’s arms, to be wanted, to be pleasured.

It was no secret that Daemon knew his way around a woman’s body. His many adventures in the city’s brothels spoke volumes. Many a night I had wondered what it would feel like to be in his arms, and the frustration only made my heart and my body ache more for his touch. And now here I was, as close to him as I would ever be, touching his naked skin with my fingers. So close, and yet so far away.

I was so focused on keeping my mind from focusing on our proximity, that I didn’t even realize it when Daemon spoke to me.

“What?” I uttered, my cheeks flaming in embarrassment. My mind had been traveling in paths too improper for a noble lady to consider. And yet, being so close to my beautiful husband, I couldn’t help but wonder.

“I asked, why are you taking care of me?” he said, his voice so rough, it felt like a rumble of a distant thunderstorm.

“You are my husband Daemon, that is my duty,” I sighed, tying off the end of the thread, securing the stitches.

“My previous wife did not feel inclined to treat me when I got hurt,” he commented.

“Your previous wife was not me,” I retorted, feeling hurt. How could he really compare me to his first wife, when he had not even made the attempt to get to know me better?

I turned away, reaching for the salve on the table beside him. I had to lean over him to take the small jar, and felt his chest touching mine as he breathed.

I took a small amount of salve and rubbed it on the wound, trying to keep my touch as light as possible so as to not hurt him.

“Why do you do this?” he whispered, making me pause.

I chucked softly.

“Though I do like black, mourning does not suit me my dear husband,” I shook my head, trying to brush off his question.

“I’m serious,” he growled, his arm wrapping around my thighs, trapping me in place.

“So am I,” I threw back at him, reaching down to rub salve on the wound on his side. I massaged it softly, helping the salve be absorbed by his skin, while trying to keep my mind from enjoying the softness of it, the strength that I could feel underneath my fingertips.

He let me go as I put the jar away and took the roll of bandages to tie off his wound. He leaned forward, letting me wrap the soft cloth around him, making sure both wounds were properly protected before I secured the end of the cloth.

I took a clean cloth and started cleaning the dirt and blood that was spattered on his face. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the cool cloth on his brow before he turned to look at me once more.

“Why do you tolerate all this?” Daemon asked, wrapping his arm around me once more, making my heart beat wildly in my chest.

“As I told you before, you are my husband Daemon,” I sighed, looking at him. “Whether we like it or not, we are bound together. For better or for worse, we are destined to move forward in life, until one of us is claimed by the Gods. By the looks of it, you will not be claimed any time soon. Now, can you let me go, I need to find you a new tunic to wear, and I’ll have to give my dress to the washers and hope they can salvage it.”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he replied immediately, still keeping me pressed up against him.

“No need for that my rogue dragon, I can dye it if it doesn’t wash out. Perhaps a deep purple, like your eyes when you get angry,” I smiled, pushing a strand of hair that had fallen over his face while I treated him.

With a swift move of his other hand he pulled my face towards his, crushing his lips against mine. He took me completely by surprise, and my gasp gave him the opening he needed. His tongue slipped in my mouth, deepening the kiss and setting my insides on fire.

He pulled my legs from under me, making me land on his lap, never breaking our kiss. I yelped in surprise, but that only made him chuckle as he resumed his attack on my lips. I was completely stunned, too overwhelmed by the sensations to think rationally, so I just slipped my hand behind his neck, holding onto him as he ravaged my mouth.

We broke off for air, but I didn’t have the chance to say anything. He set me on my feet again, though I was glad he kept his hold on me. I wasn’t sure I could stand on my own, my legs felt too unsteady to support me.

Daemon slipped his hands low, never breaking eye contact with me, and pulled the hem of my dress up to my thighs, exposing my legs to the light breeze coming from the open windows. I stood still holding on to the back of his chair, breathing heavily as I felt his hand pull my leg over his lap, whispering words that sent a shiver all the way from my head to my toes.

“Ride me my wolf.”

I obeyed his command, lowering myself onto his lap. Even over my underclothes and his breeches, I could feel him, hot and hard, poking at me. I gasped sharply, clenching my legs around him.

“See what you do to me my she-wolf?” he whispered, caressing my legs lazily.

He nuzzled my neck, peppering it with hot kisses.

“Daemon,” I gasped, feeling so overwhelmed. I had no idea what was happening, but I was too weak to put an end to it.

“I like this, you moaning my name like that,” he purred, reminding me of the sounds Caraxes made when he was around his rider. He might be the most feared dragon amongst those in the Pit, but he was putty in his master’s hands.

Just like I was.

I barely realized it when I started rocking against him, trying to find some relief in the strange feeling I had between my legs. Was this what a woman felt when she was in the arms of her lover?

I paused, not sure what it was I felt at the moment.

Daemon pulled back to gaze at me when he felt me stop moving.

“What is it?” he whispered, his eyes watching me carefully.

“What are we doing Daemon?” I asked, my voice barely audible. I was afraid that, if I spoke any louder, the spell would be broken, and the moment would end. I didn’t want it to end.

“What does it feel like we’re doing?” he smirked, pushing his hips slightly at me, making his intentions obvious. “Don’t you want it?”

“I do, by the Gods I do,” I groaned as he resumed his attack on my neck, descending lower, nuzzling at my bosom while his fingers made quick work of the lacings on the front of my dress.

“Then stop thinking too much about it, and just let yourself go. Let the wolf go free,” he whispered, and the darkness in his eyes made something inside me snap.

I was the one that attacked him this time, searching for his lips as if I was roaming the desert and he held the last of the water in his mouth.

His fingers finally untied my lacings, and he pushed at my dress, letting fall to the ground. I was left in my thin shift and underclothes.

He went for my braid then, releasing my long hair from the ties I had secured them with. He pulled at my hair, not enough to hurt me, but enough to expose my neck to him. He nipped at my skin, marking it with his teeth before easing the bite with his tongue.

“Daemon,” I gasped, pulling at his hair myself.

He hissed, but the lust in his eyes told me all I needed to know. He got up from his chair, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carried me towards the huge bed not far from where we were.

He placed me softly on the soft sheets, hovering over me.

I pulled him for another earth-shattering kiss, and felt him slip his hand under my shift. He reached for my undergarments, pulling at it sharply, ripping it to shreds.

He attacked my neck again, almost rutting against me, and I thought I was going to explode from lust.

“Gods,” I moaned, pulling at him, trying to get some relief on the ache I felt between my legs.

Daemon chuckled.

“I know some of the smallfolk think we descend from the ancient Gods of Valyria, but I never thought a northerner would believe the same thing.”

“You cocky bast-” I started to protest, only to be silenced by the feel of his fingers enter me.

“Ah, so that’s how I can get you to stop talking,” my husband chuckled huskily, giving me another of those fiery kisses.

I couldn’t reply, let alone form any coherent thought. Whatever he was doing to me with those fingers, it lit a fire in my whole body, a fire I never wanted to get out of.

A pressure started building low in my belly and I started panting, as if I was trying to run a long distance.

“Come my little wolf, howl for me,” Daemon whispered to my ear, and it was all I needed. The knot that had been writhing in my belly suddenly burst, and I saw white stars explode behind my eyelids. An amazing sensation engulfed me, and I felt as if I was flying.

Daemon continued to caress me, prolonging this feeling, until I could take it no more. Then, he withdrew his fingers from my core, raising his torso a bit to take a look at me.

I couldn’t imagine what I looked like from his perspective. Panting, with my hair wild, my skin flushed, and my legs spread before him as if I… as if he and I had just…

I dared to open my eyes to look at him, and was rewarded with a hungry look that rekindled the fire in my belly. He looked at me as if I was his next meal.

As if he could read my thoughts, Daemon licked his lips, giving me another of his signature smirks before he reached for my shift. He pulled it over my head, leaving me completely bare before him. I had the greatest urge to try and cover myself, but I knew that would not please him.

“My little wolf,” he crooned, leaning down to kiss me, softer this time. “That was no true howl. Even after what we did, you still hold back. It seems I have to use other methods to let the wild beast free.”

I didn’t have the time to ask him what he meant before he burned a trail of kisses from my lips, to my neck, to the sensitive skin between my breasts, down to my belly and, before I could stop him, right between my legs.

“Daemon, what are you doing?” I dared to ask him, still dizzy from our previous tryst.

“Feasting on my darling she-wolf wife,” he winked at me cheekily, before descending upon my mound.

I moaned loudly as I felt him lap at my cunt, licking like a cat devouring a bowl of cream. I couldn’t control the sounds that left my mouth, nor my hips from moving as close to that torturous mouth as I could get them.

His mouth closed around something down there that made me scream, asking him, begging him not to stop. His fingers entered me once more, and the feeling was even better than before. I bunched up the sheets with my hands, trying to find a way to anchor myself to reality. There was no way this was happening to me. Another jolt of pleasure shook me whole, and the divine feeling shattered my body once more, sending me crashing towards oblivion.

I barely realized that the moans echoing around the room came from my mouth. What was happening to me? This was nothing like what those servants had done in the storage closet. The man hadn’t treated his lover like this, nor had she moaned the way I was right now. Was this a different way for a man and a woman to be united?

I didn’t realize I had closed my eyes until I heard Daemon’s voice, calling to me as if he stood far away.

“Lara,” he whispered, now leaning over me once again. His voice sounded like velvet, and my name coming from his lips like that was the sweetest thing I had ever heard.

I couldn’t reply to him, only gaze at his perfect face, all sweaty and… Was all that wetness around his mouth from me, from my…

“Want to taste your desire my wolf?” he asked, and the flames rekindled in me once more.

I knew I should be disgusted. What decent noble lady would dare to do such a vulgar thing? Those were things that only whores would do, and only because they got paid for it.

But I wanted it. I wanted to taste my desire, mixed with his taste. And I wanted it now.

I reached for him, uniting our lips in a sloppy, wet and absolutely amazing kiss that had me reeling. I moaned at the sweet and at the same time salty taste that exploded in my mouth, and licked at his tongue, wanting more.

He groaned deeply, and I felt something poke at my cunt, something long, hand and hot. I had been so lost, I didn’t even realize when he had taken off his breeches and now was as naked as I was, hovering over me. Daemon rubbed his cock at my folds a few times, then pushed in me, slowly, giving my time to adjust to him.

This new feeling had me gasping. It felt uncomfortable at first, but I was so wet, he slid in easily. I felt him fill me, bit by bit, until he paused.

I pulled back to complain but, before I could, he shushed me with his finger.

“This will hurt a bit at first, but I promise you, it is worth it. Are you ready?”

I didn’t dare speak, only nodded, trusting those dark eyes with my body, my soul and my heart.

With a snap of his hips, Daemon broke through my maidenhead, and I felt as if someone was slicing me in half. I yelped in pain, tears falling from the corners of my eyes. Daemon kissed them away, whispering to me that the hardest part was over. He stilled his motions, giving me little kisses to distract me from my pain.

And indeed, after a while, the pain faded away, leaving only pleasure, and a need for more.

I tried to move my hips, to get more of this feeling, and Daemon groaned over me. He started pushing further in, filling me to the brim with his cock. He pulled back, almost completely, only to slam back in me with a powerful move.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I begged him, moving with him, trying to get more, more, more.

His hands grabbed hold of my thighs, pulling me towards him, driving into me faster, harder.

I pulled him down for another kiss, this one the hottest of them all. He was on fire, as was I. I didn’t care. I wanted him to burn me, own me, destroy me in every way. I was his, and he was mine. Nothing else mattered.

Daemon quickened his pace, his pants echoing along with my moans all over the room. This time, the knot in my belly was tighter than I had felt the previous times, and I wanted to scream, to let the whole castle, maybe even the whole city know what Daemon was doing to me. I wanted everyone to know that I was his, and he was mine.

His pace became frantic, and I felt as if I was going to explode from pleasure.

“Let go my love,” he gasped, pinning me with his violet gaze. “Let yourself go wild, let go.”

The sound of his voice, those words, the way he looked at me, it was all too much. One last snap of his hips and I was gone, screaming his name for all to hear. He growled, a loud and primal sound that only added to the passion between us. I felt him release his seed deep inside me, and I thought to myself that didn’t want this moment to end, ever.

--

I must have passed out from exhaustion, because the next thing I knew, I woke up with Daemon’s arms wrapped around me, my head resting on his muscular chest. I lay there for a moment, listening to his strong heartbeat, trying to accept what had happened between us. I was no longer a lone wolf. I had given myself, body and soul, to my dragon. That thought both excited and terrified me.

What if, now that he had performed his duty and made me his wife in every way, possibly planting his seed in me, he decided to go back to his old ways, and spend his nights away from me, in the company of his whores?

The thought was like a knife in my heart. It would devastate me if, after a taste of his fire, he turned cold once more. I didn’t know if I could handle it.

I slipped out of his arms, wrapping myself with a sheet and made my way to the balcony. Night had fallen, and it looked to be about midnight, the moon already high in the sky. I stood at the very end of the stone balcony, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the night. It felt soothing, calming my nerves a bit.

I tried to think of the worst that could happen. If Daemon decided to go back to his whores and ignore me, I would have to continue pretending as nothing was amiss, keeping myself deaf to the whispers of the other courtiers. No doubt our night together was already known to the entire castle. There was no way the servants or the guards had not heard us. They would speak to each other about it behind my back, giggling and commenting how the wolf had not managed to tame the dragon after all, and mock me every time Daemon spent his nights in the Street of Silk.

My only comfort, the only reason to keep myself together, was if I had managed to get pregnant from tonight. If I had, Daemon would have his heir, and I would have someone to give my love to. I didn’t care if I gave birth to a boy or a girl. All I wanted was a child, something to remind me of the one and only night my husband had touched me, had been with me as a man should be with his wife.

My mind was so preoccupied with all those dark thoughts, I didn’t hear the silent footsteps behind me. Two strong arms were wrapped around me, warming me from the night’s chill.

“Why did you leave our bed love?” Daemon whispered, kissing me lightly on my shoulder.

My heart fluttered at the little nickname he used. Could he really mean it?

“I wanted to see the moon,” I lied, lifting my gaze to the almost round glowing orb.

“Ah, my little she-wolf, she wants to howl at the moon, does she?”

I giggled, turning to look at my husband. He looked so beautiful in the moonlight, his silver hair shining, the same color as the moon. He too had wrapped a sheet around his waist, leaving his chest bare. I was mesmerized by how soft and pale his skin looked under the moonlight.

“Wolves don’t howl at the moon,” I shook my head, twirling a strand of his hair with my fingers. “They howl to call out to their mate, communicate with them, let them know where they are.”

“That sounds romantic,” Daemon smiled at me.

“Yes, it is. Wolves only mate once in their lifetime, they never let anyone else near them if something happens to their mate.”

“So do dragons,” Daemon replied, caressing my face ever so gently.

Something in his eyes told me he wasn’t talking only about the dragons currently residing in the pit.

I stayed silent, wrapped in his arms. I had so many things to ask him, but I had no courage to do so. His answers could either make me the happiest woman in the world, or break my heart beyond repair.

“What are you thinking my wolf? I can almost hear your mind humming with how much you are thinking right now.”

“I… just try to think of what tomorrow might bring for me, for us,” I muttered, knowing that it was now or never. Might as well get it over with.

Daemon pulled back, his face scrunched in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you Daemon,” I sighed. “All this time we’ve been married, I’ve come to know a lot about you, even with the limited amount of time we’ve spent together. Ever since we got married, you made it very clear that you had absolutely no interest in me. But now, after tonight, things have changed between us. I… I have to ask. What do you intend to do from now on?”

Daemon lifted my chin, looking at me with those dark eyes I had come to love.

“What are you afraid of? What do you fear I’m going to do?”

I looked away, trying desperately to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

“I fear that you will go back to what you used to do every night,” I said quietly, walking to the other end of the balcony. “Go out with your men, spend your time with other women, ignoring me, shunning our bed in favor of some lady of the night.”

My dragon approached me once more, pulling me into his embrace.

“My sweet, my lovely wife,” he sighed, leaning his head against mine, his forehead rubbing on the top of my head.

“Do you know how long I wanted to claim you, to hold you in my arms as we lay in our bed?”

I looked up at him, confused.

“Then why didn’t you, why did you treat me so coldly?” I demanded, hurt.

“Our marriage was arranged, just like my previous marriage. I was afraid, I thought you only agreed to this marriage to get into the royal family, to gain more power for your family, through me,” he sighed, his face turning sad. “I couldn’t let my heart be exposed, let my feelings out and get them crushed under your rejection. You were so cold, so formal with me, I had to keep my distance, to protect my heart.”

I could not believe what I was hearing. This great man, this famous warrior, the man who rode a fierce dragon with no fear, looked at me as if I might break him with a wrong move I made.

“I have not touched another woman, not for a while now, since that night that cunt Hightower tried to ridicule us both. I go out every night, looking for criminals to punish, using them to spend my frustration and fear, but I have not laid with another woman. None have touched me, nor have I touched them, this I swear to you.”

The sound of his words filled me with such happiness, I half-expected to burst from joy. I leaned and rubbed my forehead against his, smiling at how sweet he sounded.

“Your heart has nothing to fear from me my dragon, for you have my own heart in your hands. My heart, my body, my soul, my very being, it’s all yours, from this day, until the end of our days.”

My husband smiled, kissing me sweetly and deeply. I had no words to describe how I felt. I was no longer just me. We were one, connected in every way, body and soul.

“As I am yours my little wolf, in every way, until the end of our days, and beyond that,” he whispered, giving me little kisses around my mouth. "Come now, it’s getting cold out here, we’d better return to our bed.”

That night, we made sweet love to each other, not stopping until the sun’s rays broke over the nearby hills.

The next few days, several noble ladies I came across seemed to notice the bite marks my husband had left on my neck, but didn’t dare to ask me about them. They also didn’t dare to comment on the fact that, after his patrols around the city, Daemon returned to the castle every night, and the corridor outside our rooms echoed with our moans.

Nine moons after our first night together, I gave birth to a silver-haired boy. We named him Aemon.

#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen imagine #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen smut

[vassia-sparta]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 2500 likes!

You guys are awesome!

#2500 likes #tumblr milestone #thank you

[vassia-sparta]

Hey dear! I just read "Daemon Soulmate AU - How the bond was discovered - Part 3 (Final)" First of all I want to say: Viserys and Rhaenyra if I criticized you one day I was out of my mind, you never made a mistake(jokes aside) Dear author, thank you so much for accepting the idea and providing us with such a magnificent work (definitely surpassed all my expectations) I know you must be tired, but please write more Daemon x soulmate reader, you are so talented and do it very well, but please don't feel pressured. Well, I'm just passing by to say thank you and say how much I loved all of this and that it was a delight to read💕💕💕💕 (sorry for my English)

I'm so glad you liked it!

I will do my best to give another try at the Soulmate story, but I'm kind of out of ideas for those two. I'll see what I can do.

Again, thank you for your kind words, they mean a lot!!!

[vassia-sparta]

Daemon Soulmate AU - How the bond was discovered - Part 3 (Final)

Here it is, the last part. It was difficult to finish it, got way longer than I expected, but it was worth it.

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

Warnings: violence, a whole lot of smut at the end!!!

You sat on the most remote bench of the royal gardens, trying to convince yourself to do what you had to do in order to gain your father’s approval. You had gone to his chambers early this morning, steeling your nerves as you explained to him what lord Borros had asked of you in order to ask for your hand. You father didn’t even have the decency to look horrified at the news.

“If he asked you this, then you will do as he asks. And you’d better make sure he is pleased with you, otherwise you’ll regret the day you were born.”

You sighed, wondering at what point had your father stopped caring about you and decided to use you in order to gain more power and prestige. Perhaps if your mother was still alive, she would have been able to keep him in line, somewhat. But she had perished during the last winter from a fever, leaving your father without a wife and you without anyone to protect you from your father’s plans for advancement.

And now you had to sacrifice yourself on the altar of his ambition, and hope to come out the other side married to lord Borros and the lady of Storm’s End. Perhaps if you managed to get pregnant, you’d find some happiness in your children. Wasn’t that the only consolation for women in your position, to be fortunate enough to be blessed with strong children that you would then raise and live to see them become great men and women?

You picked up a white rose from the bush near you, but you had not seen the small thorn near the base, and you pricked your finger. A small drop of blood formed on your skin, and you sat there, watching it grow. Slowly, you let the red liquid drop onto the outermost petal, marking it with your blood. You were so fixated by it, you didn’t realize you were no longer alone.

“Good afternoon my lady.”

You froze where you sat, cursing that damned voice and the effect it had on you. Just four words, and the fire in you sparked back to life as if it had never fully gone out, ready to burn your whole being into cinders.

You raised your gaze and spotted the Rogue Prince leaning on a column, dressed in his house colors, a snow white tunic with a pair of black breeches and a black doublet with red dragons embroidered on both sides of his chest. Soft leather boots made his walk almost soundless as he approached you slowly.

With every step he took, the turmoil in you got worse. On the one hand, you wanted to hurt him for using you the way he had last night, leaving alone in your aroused state after you offered yourself to him so willingly. Why hadn’t he taken the opportunity when you gave it to him? Any other man would have done so without a second thought, and Daemon Targaryen was definitely not known for his piety and chivalry. He took what he wanted, when he wanted it, and had no regrets for it.

You rose from your seat, ready to run off as far away from him as you could, but he got in your way before you could take another step.

“Why do you always run away from me?” he asked, his eyes holding you prisoner.

“It’s the reasonable thing to do, what with your reputation,” you spat, your anger bubbling inside you.

You half expected him to smirk and throw some cleaver remark but, to your surprise, he looked almost hurt at your comment.

“Do you always believe the rumors you hear and base your opinion of a person on them before you have a chance to get to know them properly?”

“It saves me time and, based on how you acted recently, I’d say the rumors are spot on.”

He took another step towards you, and you felt the urge to either punch him, or grab him and kiss him. You honestly didn’t know which one you wanted to do.

“There you are, kepus,” a girlish voice echoed from the other side of the garden, and you quickly took a step back, your heart racing.

You turned and saw princess Rhaenyra, dressed in her dragon riding outfit, her silver hair shining in the bright sunlight as she made her way towards you. You felt so grateful that someone had interrupted you before you did something foolish.

“Good morning dear niece,” prince Daemon smiled at her, though you thought you heard a touch of irritation in his tone.

“Good morning your grace,” you curtsied at her.

“And good morning to you,” the young Targaryen smiled at you.

You returned her smile. Even though most lords were still angry at the king for choosing a girl to be his heir, you were so pleased that he had insisted. You had been at the company of the princess a few times, and she was a very pleasant person to be around, so much more than the Queen. Lady Alicent was pleasant too, but she could be distant and a bit too traditional for your taste, always going by the book. It was not a good thing to break the rules all the time, but every once in a while, it felt good to be rebellious.

“I was on my way to the Dragonpit, and thought you might want to come with me, it’s been a while since we’ve spent some time together,” she smiled at him.

You jumped at the opportunity to get away from the prince.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” you bowed your head ready to leave.

“Why don’t you come too?” the princess turned to you, leaving you speechless.

You didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t think the dragons will appreciate an outsider in their midst princess,” you shook your head.

“Nonsense, Syrax is quite pleasant, and I do remember you saying you wanted to see the dragons.”

It was true, in one of your talks you had expressed the wish to see those wondrous creatures up close, but you were starting to have second thoughts. You didn’t think you’d be able to handle both your fear of the dragons and the conflicting emotions you had for Daemon at the same time.

“You two can go, I have urgent business with the City Watch,” the prince commented, turning to leave.

Your heart plummeted, seeing him walk away from you. You knew it was probably better, but you also wanted him to come with you. It was like your mind and your heart fought constantly for control, and you had no idea which side you wanted to win.

“I heard that Caraxes has been giving the keepers a hard time lately, he’s been a bit too temperamental. Perhaps your presence there will calm him down uncle,” the princess pointed out, making her uncle stop.

Him and the princess exchanged a long glance, and he finally nodded, giving her a soft smile. You did your very best to keep your neutral mask on, but you were so thrilled he would be coming with you. You had never told a soul, but the dragon you longed to see the most was Caraxes, the prince’s Red Wyrm. Feared and just as uncontrollable as his rider, he was one of the dragons used in the Stepstones, a warrior born. It was said that very few of the Dragonkeepers, the order created to tend to the dragons, approached this particular dragon. Only the prince was the one who could keep the great beast under control. You hoped you’d get to see the two of them together, even if there was a good chance the dragon would try to burn you alive, or feast on you.

--

You rode on horseback all the way to the Pit, your heart rate going faster and faster as you went closer to the great structure. Easily one of the largest buildings in the city, it loomed on top of Rhaenys’s Hill, to the North part of the city, near the Dragon Gate. Most of the people steered clear of it, fearing the beasts housed inside. You were scared too, but you also wanted to see them, at least once.

You reached the entrance and the prince helped you down from your horse before you could dismount yourself, your cheeks blushing at the feel of his hands on your waist. It brought memories that you had tried very hard to bury. You thanked him, then turned to follow the princess as she made her way inside the pit.

Several men and women with shaved heads, dressed in light beige robes with red sashes tied around their necks and holding quarter staves approached you, greeting the princess in High Valyrian. It was so beautiful to hear that strange language spoken, despite the fact that you could only understand a few words.

The princess spoke to the elder of the group, then turned to you.

“Come, Syrax has just been fed, she’s waiting for me.”

“Are you sure she won’t see me as dessert?” you asked, jokingly.

“Come,” the princess laughed, taking your hand, leading you in the great dome.

The building was designed like an arena, with the ability to house more than 50,000 people if needed. Torches lit the cavernous dome, the keepers came and went, some giving you side glances, but none dared to say anything whilst the prince and the princess were around.

The three of you made your way down a corridor that curved right down the ground to the caves below the building, where the dragons made their nests. You had no idea how many dragons were currently in the pit, but you knew there were at least 5. You could only hope that Syrax would be kind to you.

You reached one of the caves, and Rhaenyra motioned for you to stay back, while she went in, excited. You could feel the prince behind you staring at you, but you chose not to acknowledge him.

“How long are you going to ignore me?” he asked, as if he could read your thoughts.

“As long as I wish your grace,” you replied, still staring at the darkness of the cave.

A growl came from its depths, and the princess appeared, the ground shaking a bit as Syrax approached us slowly. Rhaenyra patted the side of the golden dragon’s face, who stared at you with bright green eyes.

You felt completely terrified at the sight. Somehow, you knew she was not happy to see you in her nest.

“It’s alright, she just needs to get used to you,” Rhaenyra assured you.

Somehow, you doubted you could get used to this.

“She has grown since last I saw her,” prince Daemon commented, approaching the golden dragon slowly.

“She has, she can carry two now, I think,” Rhaenyra smiled at him.

You moved away a little, giving them space. You knew you were an outsider here, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the silver haired, purple eyed dragonriders.

You took a few more steps away from them when you felt the ground shake a bit once more, and turned in time to see another head come out of the darkness from the nest beside Syrax’s, this one bright red, with a set of yellow eyes that you could feel were entirely focused on your form. Caraxes, the Red Wyrm, came out of his nest, his steps slow and calculated, the perfect predator ready to attack.

You froze where you stood, watching as the large creature approached you, stopping only a few paces away from you. You knew you should be terrified, scared to death that you were so close to such a deadly and unpredictable creature but, somehow, you knew in your heart that he was not going to hurt you. A foolish thought, to be sure, yet you could feel it.

Slowly, reluctantly even, you took a step towards him, coming within arms’ reach. He moved his head closer, his large nostrils taking a deep breath, probably taking in your scent. You held still, hoping he wouldn’t think you were dinner. The red dragon took in another breath, probably sniffing for your scent, and you saw his eyes following your every move, the huge slits widening a bit. You raised your hand, slowly, carefully, moving it closer to his head until you finally felt his smooth scales underneath your fingers. He felt warm, but that was expected. Dragons were fire made flesh, or so legends said. You took another step closer, coming to stand right next to Caraxes’s head as you continued caressing him. A deep rumble sounded from deep in his chest, which you belatedly realized was akin to a cat purring. Could it be that the temperamental dragon enjoyed your touch?

“He likes you,” Daemon’s voice purred from behind you. He had crept up to where you stood while you kept your attention on his dragon. Now he stood directly behind you, his one hand coming to rest on your waist as he too caressed the dragon with the other one, smiling softly at the beast.

“I think he wants to devour me,” you giggled, feeling the low hum of the dragon’s chest.

“Him? No, but I wouldn’t oppose to it.”

And just like that, the flame had returned, burning you up, especially low in your belly. How could he have such an effect on you with just one sentence?

“Want to see what it’s like to ride a dragon?” Daemon asked, and you didn’t miss the double meaning in his words. Heat rose on your cheeks, and you avoided looking at him.

“He might like me enough to pet him, but I don’t think Caraxes would let me ride him,” you shook your head.

“He will, trust me,” Daemon smiled softly, his gaze soft, yet fiery at the same time.

He called for a saddle to be brought, and soon the dragonkeepers brought the great leather saddle that had the sigil of house Targaryen in the breast, as well as two sets of chains attached to it. One of the acolytes carried additional chains.

“Come,” Daemon urged you, making his way to the keepers. He saddled Caraxes himself, while the beast kept close to you, eyeing the keepers with a wary eye. As soon as the last strap was tied in place, Daemon offered his hand to you.

This was wrong. Going for a ride with the Rogue Prince could mean so much trouble for you.

And yet you took his hand, letting him guide you up the wing of the dragon and onto the saddle. He got on behind you, his body enveloping yours as he reached to tie both of you with the chains, securing them around your waist with deft fingers before he tied his.

“Hold on,” he whispered in your ear before he spoke to his dragon in Valyrian.

The Red Wyrm started towards the entrance of the pit, and you fleetingly saw Rhaenyra saddling Syrax as you passed by, but she looked to be taking her time with it. She waved at you, a big smile on her pretty face. You smiled back, though you didn’t understand why she was so happy.

You didn’t give it another thought as you came out of the Dragonpit, the skies opening before you as Caraxes took off the ground, his leather wings beating the air with great force. He rose quickly, the city getting smaller with every passing second. It was really incredible, being able to see King’s Landing from above. You could see the three hills, named after the first three Targaryens that started the dynasty. Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys, the Conqueror and his two sister-wives, legendary figures in the history of the Seven Kingdoms.

You could hear the many voices of people who watched as you flew even higher, taking to the clouds with ease. Daemon held onto the reins while you held on to the saddle itself, leading his mount away from the city, towards the open sea.

You felt the breeze on your face, smelled the scent of the open waters, smiled at the sun shining down on you. You had never felt so happy, so free. It was just you, Daemon and Caraxes, cutting through the skies, having no care in the world. You wished you never had to go back to the city.

“Do you like it?” Daemon whispered in your ear.

You turned to look at him and you were mesmerized by the sheer happiness reflected in his eyes. Now you understood why Targaryens spent so much time flying on their dragons. Nothing could compare to this feeling.

“I love it,” you smiled at him.

He smiled back, a true smile, not a smirk, not a sneer, a full smile, and the happiness in you multiplied. Daemon almost never smiled; you felt privileged to have caused one of his smiles. Winking at you, he took Caraxes a bit higher, performing a little twirl that made you squeal with joy. You felt your blood pumping through your body, exciting shivers shaking you.

The prince wrapped his hands around our waist when Caraxes leveled again, hugging you from behind. You leaned into his touch, almost aching for it. He touched his jaw on your right shoulder, his breath ghosting over your cheek. You had the greatest urge to turn around and kiss him. Despite what had happened in the gardens, you still wanted him.

Daemon raised his eyes to gaze at you, and you could swear your heart stopped. Neither said anything, you just stared at each other, simply enjoying being in each other’s company. Though you would never admit it out loud, you could spend an eternity in Daemon’s arms.

Rhaenyra and Syrax appeared suddenly to your right, the golden dragon’s scales glinting in the sun. The princess waved at you, and you were quick to turn to the front once more, your cheeks no doubt the same color as Caraxes’s scales. You just hoped the princess hadn’t seen you staring at her uncle like a lovesick puppy.

It was past midday before you all returned to King’s Landing, the sun starting to lower to the west. Caraxes landed gently in front of the Dragonpit entrance, bringing you back safely from your wonderful ride. Daemon undid the chains on both of you before helping you down.

Your feet took a bit of time to get used to the ground once more, and Daemon held your hands the entire time, that soft smile never leaving his face.

“Did you enjoy your first dragon ride my lady?” he asked you.

“Immensely so,” you nodded, an excited giggle leaving your lips. Caraxes purred from beside you, his long neck circling the two of you.

Daemon patted him, whispering to him in High Valyrian.

“What did you tell him?” you asked, curious.

The prince turned to you, that smile of his never leaving.

“That he did well.”

“He did, he flew like a dream,” you patted the dragon affectionately, feeling the beast hum.

Your gaze turned from Caraxes to his rider, and that warmth skyrocketed, enveloping you like he had done when you flew. You so desperately wanted to snuggle up to him, lose yourself in his arms and forget all your troubles.

For a moment, you imagined yourself married to him, giving him as many children as he wanted. You could almost see yourself sitting with him, your children all around you, some with his features, some with yours. He would teach the boys how to fight with a sword, you’d teach the girls how to be proper ladies. And every night, after you put your children to bed, you’d go to your rooms and spend the night in each other’s arms, either making love, or just lay together and talk until sleep claimed you both.

A screech brought you out of your daydream, and you looked away from the prince to see Syrax landing not far away from where you stood. Rhaenyra dismounted, gave her dragon and affectionate pat and walked up to you, a big smile on her face.

“How was flying with Caraxes?” she asked you.

“It was wonderful your grace, a once in a lifetime experience,” you nodded.

“It doesn’t have to be only once,” Daemon was quick to cut in.

You turned to him, confused.

“I will take you on a ride whenever you want, as long as you want.”

There he went with his clever words again, stoking the heat in your low belly. That smirk had returned, and the tease in his eyes was not helpful at all.

“Well, it’s enough for one day, how about we return to the castle and have something to eat?” Rhaenyra suggested.

Truth be told, you were really hungry after spending so much time in the air. You rode next to Rhaenyra on the way back to the Red Keep, the two of you chatting about dragons and how it felt to be riding one for the very first time. She told you how she had first ridden Syrax when she was only seven, but since Syrax herself was a young dragon at the time, the two had bonded so well during the flight. Her ladies and the Kingsguard assigned to her all had tried to dissuade her, deeming it too dangerous to fly so young, but she would not listen. You could imagine Rhaenyra as a young girl, ignoring those trying to tell her what to do and doing exactly what she wanted. Things were not so different now. The man who could bend Rhaenyra to his will had not been born yet, and you doubted he ever would.

You were in the middle of a tale about your childhood when you finally reached the gates of the Red Keep. When the gates opened, you were surprised to find your father and lord Borros standing near the doors, waiting for you. Your father looked to be furious, but he knew how to hide it well. Lord Borros on the other hand, he glared at Daemon before he focused his leery gaze on you, a sick smile on his puffy face.

“There you are, lord Borros and I have been looking everywhere for you,” your father scolded you gently. “Where have you been all day?”

“I took her with me to see the dragons my lord,” Rhaenyra intervened. “I remembered she had mentioned that she wanted to see them one day.”

“Thank you my princess, I apologize if my daughter’s silly infatuations troubled you,” you father bowed his head at her.

“She could never trouble me, your daughter is a delight to be around,” Rhaenyra smirked at him, and your father actually had the decency to look a little bit embarrassed.

You smiled to yourself, thrilled that someone had put him in his place.

“Nevertheless,” your father turned to you, “lord Borros wanted to ask you to take a walk with him. Would you like that my dear?”

You froze where you stood, feeling like a trapped animal. You couldn’t think of a good excuse to get away not without making a fool of yourself.

“We just returned from our ride, the lady may want to rest a bit and freshen up,” Daemon offered, approaching casually, his gaze on the Baratheon lord.

“Nonsense, how could she be tired from a little ride on horseback?” your father chuckled, giving you a pointed gaze.

For a moment you thought about telling him what you had been doing for the past few hours, but you thought better of it. If he found out you had spent so much time in close proximity to the Rogue Prince without anyone else around but his dragon, he would lock you up in your room until your wedding day.

“Of course, I am not tired at all,” you hurried to state, wincing at how fake your smile felt on your face. “I would be honored to take a walk with you my lord,” you curtsied to the storm lord.

The oaf looked smugly at Daemon before he offered his hand. You took it, waving goodbye at the princess and trying to ignore the way Daemon’s intense stare made you feel. You didn’t dare look at him, fearing he’d do something rash that would land him in trouble. You vowed to find him as soon as you could get away from lord Borros. The two of you needed to have a long talk.

--

Daemon watched you as you walked away with the storm oaf, not even looking back as you disappeared in the Red Keep.

He had the greatest urge to march up to the brute, tear him away from you and make sure he never got anywhere near you ever again. He almost did, when a soft hand on his arm held him back.

“Don’t do it uncle,” Rhaenyra whispered to him in High Valyrian.

“Don’t do what?” he snapped at her.

“Don’t do anything reckless, it’s neither the time nor the place,” she insisted.

“And when is the right time, when that brute marries her and takes her away from me?”

“That won’t happen, we will prevent it.”

That made him pause for a moment.

“We?” he turned to her.

“Father told me about you and her, about the special bond you have with her.”

“And you believed him?” Daemon asked his niece, doubtful.

“I saw how you stared at her during the feast last night,” Rhaenyra smiled at him. “You looked at her the way my father looked at mother, only with even more love. She is the one the Gods made for you, and I promise you she will not be taken from you. Now come, let us take a walk so you can ease your anger and we can come up with a good plan to stop her ambitious father from selling her off to that moron.”

“I like the way you’re thinking niece,” Daemon smiled, following Rhaenyra.

They made their way to the Godswood, Daemon a restless animal ready to pounce, Rhaenyra trying to think of a way to calm him. The Targaryen anger was notorious, and Daemon was a prime example of its ferocity. His temper was always short, especially around those who irritated him the most. She cannot remember how many times a small council meeting was disturbed by the arguments between her uncle and lord Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King. Truth be told, she despised the man herself, but she knew better than to speak her true mind about him in public. Daemon had no such restraint. He made it known how he felt about him, and made sure to taunt and mock him at any given chance. Her father stood in the middle of it all, trying to keep both of them happy, an impossible task on its own, but still, he tried.

Sitting here under the ancient weirwood tree, watching as her uncle paced up and down, she remembered what her father had confided in her earlier that day.

--

“Your uncle has found something very rare my sweet, something that spoken of only in tales.”

“What has he found father?”

“His other half, his soulmate.”

“Like those old tales mother used to tell when I was a babe?” Rhaenyra sat up, curious and excited.

“So it seems,” her father nodded, smiling fondly at his only daughter. “I want you to do everything you can so he won’t end up losing her. It is told that, when a soulmate loses its other half, the pain can drive them into madness.”

She felt a pang in her heart. She had never fallen in love, but she had seen what losing a loved one can do to a person. If those tales were true, losing his soulmate would destroy her uncle.

“What can I do?” she asked, resolve strengthening her.

“The lady is courted by lord Borros, something her father greatly approves. We have to act quickly, before a betrothal is announced. Do what you can to get them to spend more time together. The bond grows stronger while the mates are close. Sooner or later, Daemon will ask for her hand, and her father will have no choice but to accept the proposal, lest he angers the crown. I just need you to be there and keep an eye on your uncle in case he decides to do anything rash and ruin the whole thing.”

“I will not fail you father,” she nodded, getting up.

Viserys smiled at her, hugging her close.

“I know you won’t, and I’m proud of you my daughter.”

--

“I’ll sneak into her chambers tonight and steal her away, before that cunt can ask for her hand,” Daemon hissed, his eyes spitting fire.

“That will not do uncle,” Rhaenyra shook her head. “If you are to win her over, it must be done honorably. Her father must see the advantage of marrying her to you instead of lord Baratheon.”

“That ambitious weasel hates me, he will never agree to a marriage if I ask for it,” Daemon shook his head.

“What if we ask father to arrange the betrothal? Surely he won’t be able to deny the King.”

“No,” Daemon replied sharply. “I don’t want my brother’s help in this. If I am to do this, I will do it on my own.”

Rhaenyra knew better than to press the matter further. Daemon’s pride was known, as was his stubbornness, especially when it came to accepting the help of others.

“Well, your reputation and previous marriage are serious disadvantages in this, so we’ll have to sweeten the offer if we are to get her father on your side,” Rhaenyra hummed.

“How about a generous offer of gold, or if we grant him some new position here in court?” Daemon offered.

“Both those actions would require the King’s approval, as well as the Hand’s,” Rhaenyra shook her head.

Daemon’s handsome face turned sour at that.

“Then I’ll return to my original plan,” he shrugged. “Tonight, after all of the castle goes to sleep, I’ll slip into her chambers and steal her away. If her father or that oaf are foolish enough to stop me, I’ll show them what happens when you anger the dragon.”

Rhaenyra didn’t know how to change his mind, so she decided on another tactic.

“What’s it like?”

That brought Daemon out of his dark thoughts.

“What?”

“Meeting your soulmate,” Rhaenyra asked delicately. “Mother used to tell me the story, but I never believed it to be true.”

Daemon’s expression softened, his face serene.

“Before I met her, I thought I knew the colors of everything around me. I could see the blue sky, the red of my dragon’s scales, the bright yellow and orange of his flames, the purple of my eyes… After I locked eyes with her, it was like I had been seeing everything in black and white, and for the first time I saw the true colors of everything around, vivid and pulsing. I had been walking around blind all my life, and she gave me light, she gave me purpose. The very thought of losing her is like punching a hole through my chest and tearing out my heart.”

“You won’t lose her kepus,” Rhaenyra cooed, moved by her uncle’s words. This was a side of him she had never seen.

“I can feel her, I can feel what she feels. This morning, on Caraxes, I could feel her joy, her happiness in being free of everything. And the knowledge that I had made her feel like this, it was worth more than everything. Even right now, I can feel her discomfort in being with that moron. She doesn’t want him, she hates him.”

Daemon could feel his stomach uneasy, as if he had eaten something rotten. He tried to send her strength, but he didn’t know if he was successful.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp twist, as if someone had put their hand in his stomach and pulled it out.

“What’s wrong?” Rhaenyra asked, jumping on her feet.

Daemon barely heard her, focused on what he was feeling. Anger, fear, disgust, all those emotions flooded him, terrifying him.

“Something is wrong,” he muttered, trying to focus even more.

“What is it, what can you feel?”

“She’s afraid, something to happening to her.”

He felt a sharp pain on his wrist, and pulled his sleeve back, baring his arm to the light. Rhaenyra gasped sharply, and Daemon looked down at where she was pointing. He stared, stunned, as saw an angry handprint forming on his wrist, the red in sharp contrast with his pale skin. He didn’t even think about it, only turned around and started running.

--

You should have known better than to trust lord Borros. It was really suspicious for him to behave so kindly and be this gentle. He led you down many corridors during your walk, chatting about the silliest things, boring you to death.

You were trying to come up with a good excuse to get away from him, when you reached a hidden alcove at the end of the corridor. Lord Borros stopped, turning to you with a smile that you didn’t know whether to label it as creepy or scary.

“My lady, I have been waiting for this moment all day,” he said, and your heart almost stopped in your chest. Did he bring you all the way down here to propose to you?

“What do you mean my lord?” you asked, playing the innocent.

“This very moment, I have been dreaming about it for a while,” the man kept smiling, taking a step closer to you.

Before you could say anything, his rough hands grabbed you by your arms and shoved you towards the alcove. You back collided with the stone wall, making you lose your breath for a moment.

You didn’t have time to recover as he was on you right away, groping at your body, his foul-smelling breath fanning on your face.

“You bitch, you worthless cunt of a whore,” he grunted, pulling at the front laces of your dress. “If you had given me what I wanted, I would have married you, I’d have given your piece of shit father what he wanted. You would have become the lady of Storm’s End, the mother of my children.”

“Let me go,” you gasped, trying to fend him off, but it was like trying to push a wall.

“Instead you had to go and become that bastard’s whore,” lord Borros grumbled, grabbing your wrists and pinning them on the wall above your head. “Did you really think that you could make the Rogue Prince fall for you? He uses women and then tosses them aside. He would never marry you, and even if he did, he would ridicule you in court with his whoring and his drinking.”

“As if you don’t do the same,” you hissed, finding the strength somewhere in you to talk back to him. “And prince Daemon has never touched me.”

That made him pause for a moment. Then, a cruel smile formed on his puffy face.

“Then, I shall claim you as my own, to teach that piece of shit not to meddle with a Stormlander.”

The bastard tried to kiss you, but luckily you turned your head aside, dodging his attempt. Instead, the monster licked at your neck, probably an attempt to arouse you. It felt slimy, completely wrong. You could barely remember the night at the corridor, when Daemon had done something similar to you. His touch was worlds away from this monstrosity that you were forced to endure.

“Get away from me, let me go or I’ll scream,” you threatened, but the man laughed humorlessly.

“We’re so far away from the main keep, no one will be able to hear you. You will scream, there’s no doubt,” he rasped, finally managing to tear the laces of your bodice, revealing the chemise you wore underneath.

You tried your best to free your hands, but his hold was like a vice. You were certain you’d have bruises on your wrists, if you managed to live until tomorrow. You kicked at him with all your might, and managed to land a good one between his legs, making him groan in pain. Sadly, he didn’t lose his grip on your hands.

“You bitch!” lord Borros roared, punching you in the gut.

You lost your breath for the second time, and the pain spread over your belly like wildfire. The bastard tried to grab your chemise, when a figure collided with him, sending both of them to the ground. You leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath, when you caught sight of the two figures brawling on the floor. The flash of long silver blonde hair left no doubt as to who had been the one to attack lord Borros.

Daemon was like a rabid animal, never stopping his attack. He threw punches at the storm lord wherever he could land them, mostly going for his face. Not that lord Borros lay motionless. He recovered from the shock of the attack quite fast and did his best to cover his face, all the while trying to attack the dragon prince himself.

Another person arrived at the scene, and you sighed with relief when you saw that it was Rhaenyra. The princess came to your side right away, hugging your shoulders as she helped you stand on your feet.

“Are you alright?” she asked you. “Did he hurt you?”

“A bit, he didn’t manage to complete his assault,” you shook your head, your gaze drawn back to the fight happening not three feet from you.

“You worthless piece of shit,” Daemon cursed, landing a great punch on lord Borros’s nose. You felt so satisfied when you heard the sickening crunch, followed by the wails of the storm lord.

“What gives you the right to put your hands on her?” the prince roared, landing another punch.

You could swear you could feel the force he threw those fists with, the pain on his knuckles as he made contact with his target. It felt so vindicating, seeing the storm lord being punished for what he did to you.

Lord Borros found some hidden strength in him, and he used it to throw Daemon off of him. The dragon prince landed on his back, and you winced when you heard the thud his body made. He was quickly back on his feet though, being the experienced warrior that he was. He didn’t waste any time and lunged himself on lord Borros once more. This time, however, the storm lord was waiting for him. Their bodies collided, each trying to get the upper hand in the fight. You and Rhaenyra stood motionless to the side, frozen by fear and shock.

Hurried steps echoed from the corridor, and soon several guards wearing the Targaryen sigils on their breasts, as well as a few goldcloaks led by ser Harwin Strong, the heir to Harrenhal arrived at the scene.

“Ser Harwin, separate them, immediately,” the princess commands, and the young captain of the City Watch hurried to comply with her order. Several men approached the two fighters, and managed to separate them with great difficulty.

Daemon fought those who tried to restrain him, while lord Borros could barely stand on his two feet after Daemon’s attack. His nose was bloody, and there were already bruises forming all over his face.

“I shall have your head for this,” he even dared to threaten the Targaryen prince, glaring daggers at him.

Daemon stilled at the hands of his fellow goldcloaks, his eyes blazing with fury. You saw his hand twitching over the dagger strapped to his belt, and knew that his next assault would most likely end with his victim lying dead on the floor.

Before he could say anything however, Rhaenyra’s voice thundered over the others, clean and full of anger.

“You dare threaten a member of the royal family? And that is on top of your assault of this lady? I’d say your head is the one that needs to be taken lord Borros.”

That brought him up short.

“My princess, I-”

“Save your excuses lord Borros,” Rhaenyra cut him off. “You shall give your explanation to the King. Guards,” she turned to those holding him, “take him to the Throne Room, and someone needs to call my father and inform him on the situation.”

The guards obeyed, dragging the storm lord away. Only after he had disappeared from sight did the goldcloaks let Daemon go, and he immediately rushed to you, his eyes full of worry.

“Are you alright?”

You heart soared at the sound of his voice, the touch of his hands on yours. Your hands had been shaking ever since you got away from your assailant’s grasp, yet one touch from Daemon and the shaking ceased right away.

You took a better look at him, and noticed a bruise forming on his left cheek, as well as a small cut above his brow.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “He didn’t have time to do anything to compromise my honor.”

A flash of fury shines on his violet eyes, but it vanishes as quickly as it appeared, his gaze focusing on your eyes. Warmth fills you, easing the pain on your stomach. Daemon takes your hands in his, cool fingers ghosting over your wrists. The marks of your assailant’s hands are evident against your pale skin, yet Daemon’s touch seems to make them disappear. You have the strangest urge to hide in his arms, away from everything in the world that could harm you.

But you stay where you stand, taking comfort in his hands as they envelop yours. Rhaenyra appears by your side once more, a soft smile on her face.

“We should get you to your chambers, to change your clothes.”

Her simple statement draws your attention to your ruined dress. The laces hang limp, their edges frayed from lord Borros’s attack on them. Thankfully enough, the chemise underneath is linen, concealing your body and saving you from the embarrassment.

You catch Daemon’s heated gaze on your body, and a different sort of warmth fills you. This one is…spicier, for a lack of a more fitting word. It is comforting, but it also leaves you wanting more. You know not what of, but you definitely want more of it. Vague echoes of your body pressed against Daemon resurface in your mind, and you shake your head to clear it. Now is not the time to be thinking of such things.

“Yes, you are right princess,” you nod, resolve making your voice steady.

Daemon and Rhaenyra helped you stand on your feet, and the princess turned to her uncle.

“You should go change too kepus, father will want to speak to you as well.”

“I should escort you first-”

“We shall be fine, and you need time to cool off. Come find us in the Throne Room, we’ll be there.”

There is steel behind the princess’s voice, and for the first time you can see her on the Iron Throne, ruling over the Seven Kingdoms. She will make a fine Queen one day.

You stole once last glance at Daemon before the princess whisked you away, towards your rooms. You didn’t speak during the trip, and thankfully enough encountered no other person. You had no doubt that news of the incident would already circle all over the castle, with speculations running wild. You briefly wondered what your father would think of all this, but surprisingly you didn’t care much about his opinion. You could only think of Daemon, and how he had saved you from lord Borros. Like the knights in the tales told by mothers to their small children, he had gallantly come to your aid, pushing the monster away from you, punishing him for the crime of assaulting you.

You tried really hard not to swoon at the thought. You had always believed that the girls who put too much stock into those tales always ended up getting a rough awakening when they came face to face with reality. The truth was, very few of the knights in the Seven Kingdoms were as gallant as those from the Age of Heroes. Most knights these days cared more about women, or gold, or glory.

Yet Daemon’s actions today made you think of him as your knight in shining armor. Perhaps you could allow yourself this one fancy, but just this once.

Rhaenyra helped you change your gown and fix your hair in a simple braid before you both made your way down to the Throne Room. As you approached, you could see more and more of nobles who stared at you, whispering at each other. You ignored them. There was much more at stake than the opinions of a few men and women.

The Throne Room was already half full by the time you and the princess entered. The King sat on the throne, lord Otto standing by his side. Lord Borros stood between two armed guards, his hands shackled before him. He glared at you when you approached the throne, and you did your best to not give him a second look.

Instead, you focused on your father, who appeared out of the crowd, looking both worried and upset.

“Daughter, what happened?” he demanded, barely sparing a glance at the princess.

“Lord Borros assaulted her,” Rhaenyra replied for you, and your father paled at the sound of it.

“He sullied you?” he gasped, glancing at the man in question before he focused his eyes on you once more.

“He didn’t have the time,” you shook your head.

Your father breathed a sigh of relief when ser Harrold Westerling, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, called for order. The Throne Room quieted as the King cleared his throat before he spoke.

“As I understand, there was an incident earlier today within the walls of this castle,” he started, his gaze sweeping the entire hall. “I was informed that lord Borros and my brother were caught in a fight in one of the remote corridors and had to be separated by the guards.”

The King focused on the storm lord, his face impassive.

“Why did you and Daemon fight lord Borros?”

“He attacked me your Grace, I didn’t even see him before he was on top of me, using his fists to land blow after blow on my face.”

You wanted to scream at the bastard, but you held back. How could he act the victim when he was anything but?

“Your Grace, I fear you brother has gone out of control once more,” the Hand sighed, but a voice from somewhere behind you interrupted whatever else he was about to say.

“You were always so quick to judge me,” prince Daemon called out, walking slowly down the middle of the room, dressed in a black doublet with the Targaryen dragon embroidered on it. He had his sword strapped to his belt, his hand resting on it. You couldn’t help but smile softly at him. He glanced at you briefly, returning your smile before he focused on the Hand once more.

“It is true, I attacked this worthless piece of scum, and I would gladly chop him up and feed him to my dragon if I was given the chance.”

“Why?” the Hand demanded. “Lord Borros is an honorable man, the ruler of the Stormlands and an ever faithful man to his King-”

“This faithful man as you call him attacked a young maiden and sought to rape her,” Rhaenyra interrupted him, leaving your side as she stepped up before her father and his Hand.

“She threw herself at me!” lord Borros roared, and fury boiled in your chest. You wanted to jump on him and gouge his eyes out, feed them to the vultures.

“She is a slut, a whore who flaunted herself at me, taunting me with her body.”

He glared fiercely at you, and everyone in the room started whispering.

“Is this true?” lord Otto questioned you, his gaze stern.

“No my lord Hand,” you replied, your voice laced with anger. “I have never made any sort of advances towards lord Borros.”

“Yet, as I recall, you danced with him at the feast not long ago,” lord Otto observed.

“I did, but that does not mean I ever threw myself at him.”

“Yes, for you preferred to warm the prince’s bed,” lord Borros hissed cruelly.

Gasps echoed all over the room, and the whispers intensified.

“I have never been touched by any man, I am a maiden still,” you defended, your hands shaking. “You attacked me, after leading me to that secluded corridor.”

“Your imagination runs wild,” the stormlander replied dismissively. “I only took a walk with you because your father has been hounding me to ask for your hand. I had considered it at first, but I changed my mind now that I see what a lustful and disgraceful woman you are. I want no woman like that to be my wife.”

You could see your father go rigid beside you. This would no doubt keep any men from asking for your hand from now on. Once the story of all this got out, you would be forever shunned by any suitors, cursed to remain unwed until you died. You, on the other hand, were furious at the lies this vile man spat out.

“I would rather die than be your wife,” you hissed, fuming. “You asked me to sleep with you, to please you so you would ask for my hand in return. You are the one who is disgraceful, attacking me when I rejected your request.”

“She speaks the truth, I bear witness to it,” Rhaenyra declared, and her father focused his gaze on her.

“You swear that you saw lord Borros assault the lady?” the King asked her.

“He did,” the silver haired girl nodded. “Daemon and I arrived at the scene before he could sully her in any way, and my uncle attacked him to get him off of her.”

The chatter amongst the crowd was so loud, ser Harrold had to call for order three times before the people settled.

“Daemon,” the King turned to his brother, “I would hear your side of all this.”

“It is as Rhaenyra says it is your Grace,” Daemon replied. “We came across them when we walked about the corridors. Lord Borros had the lady pinned on the wall, trying to tear at her clothes. Look at her wrists and you will find evidence of his grip on her.”

The King turned to look at you, his gaze focusing on your hands. You lifted your sleeves so he could see the marks lord Borros left on you. Big, red handprints showed on both your wrists, some parts starting to turn purple. They had started to hurt, now that the excitement of the incident had faded away.

The King sat back, sighing deeply. Then, he turned towards the storm lord.

“Lord Borros Baratheon, I find you guilty of trying to attack this lady, with the intent of raping her. For this, you are exiled from Westeros, stripped of your lands and noble title. You re to leave this city and my kingdom immediately, and you are not to return, ever, upon pain of death.”

Lord Borros stood still, too shocked for a moment. However, the fierce nature of the people of the Stormlands proved true.

“Your Grace, you cannot do this, it is an outrage!” he bellowed, fighting to break free of the hold the guard had on him.

“Continue speaking and you shall lose your head,” the King glared at him, like a dragon poised to attack. You had rarely seen the king like this, but it was during times like today he showed his true Targaryen nature to those who angered him.

“Remove him from my sight,” the King ordered his guards, and they dragged the former storm lord out of the room, while he kicked and screamed bloody murder.

Most of the courtiers started to make their way out of the room, quickly losing interest now that the trial seemed to be over. Your father approached you, his gaze burning.

“What happened?” he hissed at you, his voice barely above a whisper, so that others wouldn’t hear him.

“You heard what happened,” you bit back, glaring at him.

“Why did you have to fight him? Look what happened to us now,” he spat, glancing at the quickly diminishing crowd. “Who will ask for your hand after all this?”

You couldn’t believe your ears. After all you had suffered at the hands of that horrible man, your father still thought of his failed plans to marry you off to some powerful lord.

“You would prefer I lose my honor to such a man?” you accused, furious.

“At least he would have married you,” your father spat. “Now you will never find a suitable husband.”

“That is not true,” a voice you had come to know very well sounded from behind him.

Your father turned and found Daemon standing before him, tall and proud.

“My prince?” your father asked, uncertain.

“I had been wanting to find you today, but all this prevented me from doing so. I hereby formally ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

You were certain that the barest of breezes would knock your father over, he was so shocked.

“My prince, I, I don’t know what to say,” your father stuttered, fumbling over his own words.

“What is the matter?” the King asked, drawn to the exchange between his brother and your father.

“I have asked for the lady’s hand in marriage.”

The King seemed to be pleasantly surprised.

“That is indeed wonderful,” he smiled, gazing from his brother to you. “I had been hoping you would want to marry again, and she is a fine choice,” he praised you. “What say you my lord?”

Your father fidgeted where he stood, uncomfortable to be in the spotlight.

“I don’t know your Grace,” he replied hesitantly. “It is a great honor, to be sure, but you must forgive me if I am a bit guarded. After all, your brother’s reputation precedes him, and his first marriage was a disaster. I cannot have my daughter shamed before all when the prince decides to find entertainment in pleasure houses later in their marriage.”

“I will do no such thing,” Daemon grunted, his gaze fiery.

“It is true that the prince’s reputation is not the finest,” lord Otto cut in as he glanced at the King.

“Why not let the lady decide?” Rhaenyra suggested, surprising you all.

Her father, your own, the Hand, as well as you and Daemon all turned to look at her where she stood.

“It’s her life, she will have to spend the rest of her days with my uncle if she marries him. Why not put the decision on her hands?”

You could not help but feel so much gratitude for the princess. It was well known that most noble ladies married men their fathers chose, with them having little to no say in the matter. To be able to choose the man you wanted was a rare opportunity.

All gazes fell on you, some expectant, others guarded. You looked at all of them, saving Daemon for last. You didn’t have to think about it. One look at those violet eyes, and you had your answer.

“I choose Daemon.”

--

Your wedding came a fortnight later, and it was everything everyone talked about. A lot of people speculated why the prince had chosen to ask for your hand. The cruelest among them whispered that Daemon had already claimed your maidenhead, others that you were already with child.

You didn’t care. They would all get their answer the morning after the wedding, when your maiden’s blood would stain your sheets.

The big day dawned, and you stood before your mirror, letting the seamstress fix some last minute details on your wedding dress. It was made of the finest snow white silk, with little pearls and diamonds embroidered in patterns of flowers all over the bodice and the skirt. Rhaenyra was currently helping you braid your hair, while one of her handmaidens was holding a pillow with several pieces of jewelry. The King had ordered them for today, and each one was more beautiful than the other. You didn’t know what to choose. Luckily for you, Rhaenyra had excellent taste. She helped you narrow it down to two different sets of earrings, and in the end you chose a pair of silver ones with rubies, while she tied a silver pendant with the head of a dragon with amethysts for eyes. That one was a gift from your mate.

Your mate. You still were trying to fully comprehend what exactly bonded you with Daemon. After the proposal, the two of you spent as much time as you could together, and he had explained to you what the soulmate bond was. Everything made so much sense now. All those times you had those strange emotions, the warmth you both felt when you were close to each other, the emotions you shared, both good and bad. He had felt your pain that day, that was how he knew to come rescue you. He even bore the same marks you did on your wrists for a while. When he kissed you, little explosions of passion went off all over your body, and you craved to be closer to him, as close as it was possible.

It had proved almost impossible to maintain your maidenhead until the wedding, but somehow you had both managed to keep yourselves sated momentarily with kisses and touches. Daemon had suggested to help you ease your arousal using his fingers, or even his mouth but, as intriguing as it had sounded, you had denied yourself that pleasure. You knew that, if you let him do it, there’d be no turning back. At least the day of the wedding had arrived, and the wait was almost over.

You felt a bit nervous, but at the same time excited to be married to Daemon. He was the man you were born to be with, your other half. You didn’t know what the future would bring, but you knew that, as long as you two were together, you could face anything.

“There, all ready,” Rhaenyra smiled at you.

“You turned to look in the mirror and you smiled widely at her. She had done a wonderful job.

“Thank you so much princess,” you held her hands in yours.

“Hey now, none of that. We are to be family, you should call me by my name.”

“Then please do the same,” you replied with happiness.

“I’m so glad uncle Daemon found his soulmate. I had heard of such stories from my mother, but I never expected them to be true. I wonder if I’ll ever find my soulmate,” she sighed, her eyes turning sad.

“You will, I have no doubt about it,” you reassured her.

“What’s it like, having a soulmate?” she asked, curiosity apparent on her pretty face.

You paused, not sure how to describe it correctly.

“It’s like, you go through life, thinking that you are complete, but when you come across your other half, you understand why you always felt like something was missing. You feel everything he feels, and everything you feel is doubled, more intense. It’s almost like I spent my life before I met Daemon just…existing, and now I am finally alive.”

“It must be magical,” Rhaenyra cooed, her eyes dreamy.

“I truly hope you find your mate Rhaenyra, and when you do, you will be the happiest woman in the world, I can promise you that.”

Rhaenyra smiled brightly, her face brightening. She looked divine, clad in a red dress with golden embroidered flowers and lace trimmings. She had her hair in an intricate braid as well, and golden earrings shined on her ears, matching the golden bracelets and necklace she wore on her slender neck. She looked every bit the princess that she was, and a beautiful young woman too.

Someone knocked on the door of your chambers, and one of the maids went to answer it. It was your father, dressed in his finest clothes, his smile almost genuine. It had not been easy to convince him that this was the best for you, but he couldn’t go up against the King’s wishes. King Viserys was thrilled to see his brother happily married, so your father had accepted it. After all, having a daughter married into the royal family was quite the achievement.

“It’s time,” he smiled at you, and Rhaenyra kissed you on the cheek, leaving to go take her place at the throne room. You had agreed to have the ceremony there, instead of the sept, since neither you nor Daemon were particularly religious.

Your father approached you, taking in your wonderful dress.

“You look wonderful my dear,” he smiled, kissing you on the cheeks.

“Thank you,” you nodded.

He wrapped your maiden cloak around your shoulders, fastening it loosely with a silver brooch. You took his arm, and together you came down the stairs.

Flowers and colorful ribbons decorated the stone railings, while a rose petal trail marked the way into the throne room. Hundreds of people had gathered both inside the great hall and at the entrance, waiting to see you get married. You saw many faces, both familiar and unknown, but there was only one you sought to see right now.

Your gaze travelled all the way down the long trail that led to the throne, and there you saw him. He was dressed in his house colors, a blood red shirt under a pitch black velvet doublet. Black breeches, shiny black boots, and his valyrian sword hanging from his belt, its hilt glinting in the sunlight coming in from the high windows. His flowing silver hair shone like a crown over his head, two strands tied with a silver band on the back of his head. He looked beautiful, every bit the prince that he was.

He caught sight of you, and the warmth you had come to know so well by now filled you, once more, and a smile graced your face.

You and your father walked up to where the septon, the king and Daemon stood. Your father handed you over to Daemon with a nod, and your future husband took your hand as you both stood before the septon.

The ceremony ended rather quickly, and the king announced that there was a feast to be held at the royal gardens. You lost count how many noble men and women came to congratulate you, wishing you all the best in your new life. You caught several of the women casting lustful glances at your husband, but he didn’t even spare them a second glance. He only had eyes for you.

The time came for the two of you to share your first dance as husband and wife, and everyone in the area quieted down, eager to watch the spectacle. The musicians started playing a soft tune, Daemon wrapped his hand around your waist, and led you around, his eyes sparkling with joy. You couldn’t stop smiling at him, barely noticing as you twirled around, letting the music guide you.

The dance ended way too quickly, and you both took your seats at the royal table, letting other couples take to the dance floor. You sipped from your goblet, enjoying the rich taste of the wine, happily observing everyone having a great time. You were particularly surprised to find Rhaenyra dancing with ser Harwin Strong, the two of them gazing at each other like they were all alone. It was almost scandalous, and you knew several of the gossipers would start weaving their ridiculous tales, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. For one, you were too happy to do so, and Rhaenyra actually looked content to be in the arms of the young knight. You had a fondness for the man, as he did his absolute best in his duties and, despite his popularity with women, he had not used it to his advantage.

“Are you enjoying the night my love?” Daemon whispered to you, and you felt delicious shivers running down your spine. You could never get used to the effect his voice had on you.

“Yes, immensely so,” you smiled at him, turning to gaze at those mesmerizing eyes of his. “And you? Are the festivities to your liking? I think the food is exceptionally great, a perfect feast.”

“It is, but I’d rather be feasting on something else,” he smirked at you, and a flare of desire washed over you, making you clench your legs together.

“Daemon, we can’t,” you gasped, trying to get your body under control, with little success.

“Sure we can,” he whispered, his hand slipping on your thigh, caressing it softly over the fabric of your dress. “This is our wedding night, we are supposed to be spending it laying on our bed, not sitting on these damn chairs.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, your cheeks blushing.

“People will notice us missing,” you tried to reason, but your mind was already flying away to more sinister thoughts. You both had been waiting too long for this.

“They won’t care, they know we have better things to do,” Daemon smiled, holding out his hand to you.

You took it without a second thought, and you both slipped away from the festivities, nobody noticing your escape.

As soon as you were inside the castle, Daemon took you in his arms, taking the steps two at a time until he reached the door of your shared bedchambers. He opened it and walked in the room, kicking the door shut with his leg.

The servants had prepared the room for the night, white linen sheets covering the huge bed, candles lit all over, there was even a glass pitcher of blood red wine along with two goblets on the table.

None of that mattered now though. The only thing that you cared about was your husband.

Daemon put you down slowly, his hands coming to rest at your waist. You didn’t break eye contact as you raised your hand to caress his face, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he hummed deeply.

You leaned up to kiss him, and he returned your kiss, the sensation making your mind hazy. You closed your eyes as you let your mind enjoy the softness of his lips, the sweet scent that you had come to love, the wonderful feel of his body pressed up against yours.

Your husband slipped one hand up and wrapped it around your neck, his fingers going into your hair. He deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, making you gasp in pleasure. Emboldened by your desire, you let your tongue play with his, tasting each other, teasing, nipping at his lips.

He groaned, a deep sound that vibrated through your body. His hands went to the lacings of your dress, undoing them with uncanny dexterity. Before long, he had your dress loose, ready to fall down on the floor. You let it do so, leaving you in a silk chemise that barely covered your body. Daemon’s gaze swept over you, heated and so full of passion. You caressed his chest with your hands, stopping at the top button of his doublet. He watched, silent, as you undid the buttons one by one, finally opening it to reveal the blood red shirt underneath. You pushed the doublet off his shoulders, and he let it join your dress on the floor.

He pulled you for a searing kiss, full of passion and pure need. A hunger awakened deep in your belly, a hunger to taste every bit of him. You found the edge of his shirt and pulled at it impatiently, until he broke the kiss with a smirk and let you pull it up and off of him.

You let your gaze sweep the sight before you. Daemon’s chest was lean but muscular, the body of a skilled and experienced warrior. Scars from battles long ago littered his pale skin, but they didn’t take anything from his beauty. On the contrary, they were living proof that your mate was a man willing to defend those he loved without a second thought.

You leaned in and placed a kiss on the scar over his heart, and you felt him shiver. He lifted your chin, his eyes so dark, they were almost black.

“I love you,” he whispered, then kissed you once more.

The kiss soon turned passionate, and he leaned down, grabbing your legs in a strong grip, pulling up sharply. You wrapped them around his waist, your arms around his neck. You never stopped kissing as he walked towards the bed, softly placing you on top, covering your body with his.

It was delicious, feeling his strong body on top of yours, pressing you into the mattress. The heat in your lower belly turned even hotter, and you ached for something, no idea what, but you knew you wanted it now.

Daemon’s lips slipped down to your neck, leaving feather-soft kisses as he descended towards your breasts. He pulled the straps of your chemise down, revealing your hardened dark pink nipples. He licked his lips, then closed his mouth over the hardened bud, making you gasp sharply. You reacted on instinct, lifting your chest to get closer to his mouth. He used his tongue and teeth on you, sucking and biting your nipple softly, driving you mad with the sensation. You barely realized that the moans echoing in the room came out of your mouth.

Daemon moved to the other breast, and you swore you were about to explode in flames, you felt so hot. Your hands roamed on his back, trying to pull him as close to you as you could. Daemon let his hand go up and down your thigh, caressing, teasing, stoking the fire in you. His fingers lifted your chemise up, slipping between your bodies, finally touching you were you most needed him to.

He caressed your soaking wet folds, finding a particular spot that had you moaning loudly as he stroked it in circles.

“So wet for me, so ready for me my love,” he groaned, his hips grinding against yours as he sought to find some relief himself. You could feel his hard member poking at your core, and you felt a wave of satisfaction, knowing that you affected him as much as he affected you.

He let a finger slip into you, and your hips rose sharply to meet his hand. He definitely knew how to give you pleasure, playing your body like an instrument.

You reached down to his breeches, trying feverishly to undo the buttons. He gently pulled your hands away, ignoring your lazy protests at the loss of his touch at your core.

“Patience my love, we have all night.”

He leaned up to kiss you, his hands reaching to pull your chemise up, until he lifted it over your head, tossing it aside before resuming his kiss. You felt his naked chest on you, your breasts pressed up against it. He continued his torture with his fingers at your soaked cunt, his thumb circling that little nub that sent jolts of pleasure through you.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you gasped, rocking into his hand.

“Almost there my love, let go, don’t hold back,” he whispered, and you felt your belly tighten before a wave of absolute bliss hit you hard, making you moan loudly.

Daemon kept stroking you as you rode the wave, enjoying it as much as you could before you collapsed on the mattress, breathing hard.

He leaned back, watching you with hooded eyes as you found your breath again.

“What was that?” you asked, finally able to form words again.

“That was just a taste of what a man can offer his wife. There’s plenty more,” he smirked, going down the length of your body before he stopped at your core. He pulled your legs apart gently, then surprised you when he gave a big lick at your folds.

You gasped, moaning at the sensation. He didn’t give you any time to recover as he resumed licking at you like a man starved. He used his tongue much like he had used his fingers not long ago, going in and out of you, focusing on that little nub, driing you mad with the intense feelings that raved in you. Your whole body shook as the pressure built once more, this time even more intense as you reached that peak of ultimate pleasure for the second time.

You screamed your mate’s name as you felt your juices flooding out of you, Daemon licking at them eagerly.

“Daemon, please,” you pleaded, not sure what you wanted.

“Yes my love, I’m here,” he crooned, covering your body with his and he reached up to kiss you. You could taste yourself in his tongue, and that somehow made it all so much more pleasurable.

At some point Daemon must have gotten rid of his breeches and boots, because you could feel him, all of him, naked and hard as a steel rod, pressing against your folds. He looked at you, silently asking for your permission, and you nodded.

You felt his hardness pushing into you slowly, a delicious pressure that had you breathing shallow. When he reached your maidenhead, he paused for a moment, giving you a moment to adjust to his size before he pushed on.

A momentary feeling of pain gave way to delicious pleasure as Daemon rocked back and forth slowly, going even deeper into you with every move. When he finally was all the way in, he stayed still, both of you savoring the closeness. He kissed you deeply, putting everything he felt into that one kiss.

Before long, you got impatient and wanted more of him, and he was only too eager to comply with your wishes. He set a slow pace at first, moving in and out of you, while his hands played with your breasts.

You gasped with each thrust, feeling him driving into you, trying to find his pleasure. You used your legs to pull him even further in, and heard him groan as his cock touched a spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Daemon,” you chanted, again and again, like a prayer. You couldn’t think of anything else, your mind was too overwhelmed from all the things you felt at the same time.

His pace picked up, his breathing becoming ragged as he kissed you almost viciously, all teeth and tongue. You held onto him as you felt that delicious pressure again, and you knew he was getting close to his own peak. You moved in sync, bodies going erratic as the ultimate wave of pleasure took you both in it, pushing you over the edge into a place that had no name. You didn’t care. You were where you always were meant to be, where you wanted to be.

That night, neither of you got any sleep. You finally collapsed, entirely spent, sometime shortly after the first rays of the sun appeared in the east. You lay in your mate’s arms, with barely any strength left in you, but absolutely sated and content. Shortly before sleep claimed you both, you looked deep into Daemon’s eyes, whispering a single phrase to him:

“I love you, now and always.”

He smiled, his true smile that he saved only for you, and whispered back:

“I love you too my wife, from now until the end of time.”

---

There you have it, the last part. I hope you liked it!

Taglist: @thanyatargaryen, @honestlyka, @graniairish, @queenofshinigamis, @dangerousbluebirdpoetry, @moonmaiden1996, @nitimurinvetitumposts

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #prince daemon targaryen #hotd fanfic #daemon targaryen

[vassia-sparta]

Daemon Soulmate AU - How the bond was discovered - Part 2

Here it is, the second part of my fic. I'm currently working on the last part, so stay tuned!

Part 1 here

Warning: Description of sexual situations, but barely, nothing explicit

The feast to celebrate the end of the tourney was proving to be quite spectacular. King Viserys had really gone overboard for his new wife, with so many delicious foods and the finest wines the kingdoms had to offer. Musicians with lovely voices sang all sorts of songs, and the guests danced to their heart’s delight, toasting to the health of the royal couple, wishing them many years of happy marriage, and for the Queen to give birth to many strong children.

You stood in a corner, sipping from your goblet, watching as everyone enjoyed the evening, while you sulked in your spot. Your father had tried to convince you to wear a magnificent black dress with yellow flowers embroidered on it, as a way of letting everyone know that you were to be a Baratheon soon, but you had put your foot down. It would be too scandalous to do such a thing when lord Borros had not even spoken of a betrothal yet, you argued, and thankfully enough your father had seen reason.

Instead, you had chosen a light pink silk dress with golden flowers embroidered all over the skirt and little white pearls stitched on the hem of the plunging neckline. It was almost indecent, but your father had insisted that it would attract lord Borros’s attention.

So far however, the Baratheon lord had spent most of the evening talking to some of the other lords, downing goblet after goblet of wine and laughing loudly at whatever jest one of them made. And now, as you watched, the man had actually fondled a serving maid when she placed a platter of roasted boar in front of him.

You sighed, looking away. You couldn’t imagine a future with this man, not a good one anyway. How were you to withstand your husband fondling the servants, spreading bastards all over the place, humiliating you again and again? You sent a prayer to the Gods to help save you from such a horrible fate.

They must not have heard you however, because the storm lord raised his gaze to you, giving you a dangerous smile before he excused himself from his friends and made his way to you.

“My lady, why do you stand here alone?” he asked, eyeing your bosom without even trying to be discreet.

“I like watching the dancers my lord, aren’t they mesmerizing?” you smiled politely at him.

“Perhaps we should join them then,” he offered his hand to you.

For a moment, you thought about declining, you even considered running as far away from him as possible, but of course you didn’t. You knew your father was watching you like a hawk, ready to reprimand you if you made a wrong move.

“Yes, perhaps we should,” you nodded, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, his palm going way too low for decency, but you knew you couldn’t say anything. Instead, you tried to distract your mind with small talk.

“So, have you been enjoying your stay at the capital my lord?” you asked him.

“Not so much, after that bastard Daemon kicked me off the tourney, I’ve been aching to return home, it’s so boring here in King’s Landing.”

“Well, perhaps in the next tourney you will defeat him,” you offered, not sure what else to say.

“Of course I will, I’ll crush that cunt’s face with my hammer, then spit on his dead body,” the storm lord grunted.

“My lord, perhaps you should not be saying such things, after all he is a prince of the royal family.”

“Why not? It is well known he is a trouble maker, I’ll be doing the King a favor if I kill him. They might even reward me for it,” the moron guffawed, his belly jiggling.

You didn’t say anything, hoping no one around you had heard him. It could be considered treason to speak like that, and his head would roll before he could stop his laughter. You decided to change topics, hoping that it would help with the flow of the conversation.

“What is Storm’s End like my lord? I’ve heard that its walls are so thick, no battering ram can hurt them and no catapult can send a stone over them.”

“That’s true, it’s impenetrable to any siege or attack. The last poor soul who tried lost his head. It’s still on a spike on the parapets. When you come visit, I’ll show it to you.”

You noticed that, with every turn, he would look down at your bosom, and lick his lips. That made you really uncomfortable, so you wracked your mind, trying to find something to keep his mind occupied.

“Is it true that the storms are huge, and that lots of ships have crashed on the bay below, so much that no lord has ever dared to leave their fleet there?”

“You certainly like those silly stories, don’t you?” lord Borros laughed, glancing at a serving maid passing by him. “Well,” he turned back to you, “you will have all the time to observe the great storms of my lands when we are wed.”

His statement took you aback.

“Wed? What are you talking about?” you asked him, eyes wide.

“Come now girl,” he scoffed, squeezing your body onto him. “We both know your father has instructed you to enchant me and make me ask for your hand. I don’t blame him, a man of an insignificant house from the Riverlands, of course he would want his daughter to marry a powerful and rich lord like me. Tell you what,” he leaned in to whisper to your ear, “come to my chambers tonight, and if you please me enough, I will give your father the betrothal he so desires.”

Words cannot describe the horror and disgust that flooded your body. You tried to disentangle yourself from his embrace, but to no avail. He was too strong for you.

“Don’t try to pretend you are a silly airheaded maiden,” the horrifying man smirked. “If you are good enough tonight, I will ask your father for your hand. But you should know that you cannot expect me to remain faithful to you throughout our marriage, you understand that, right?”

Anger filled your mind, and you glared at this sorry excuse of a man.

“Let me go,” you merely grunted, but this only seemed to amuse him further.

“Ah, you have some spunk in you, I like it. I shall enjoy taming you tonight.”

“I will not come to your chambers tonight, or any other night. Let me go, now,” you demanded, squirming in his embrace.

“If I let you go, you will be finished,” the arrogant bastard sneered at you. “One word from me, and everyone will know that you gave yourself to me, begging me to fuck you like the whore that you are.”

You were actually contemplating sticking your fingers right into his eyes and poke them out, when another voice interrupted you.

“Lord Borros, my brother wanted to have a word with you.”

You had no idea how he did it, but the moment you heard that slow purr of his, all your fear drained your body, and that strange warmth replaced it.

Lord Baratheon turned towards prince Daemon with annoyance, but nodded, finally releasing you from his grip. He did hold on to your hand though, giving it a sloppy kiss, gazing at you with a leer.

“I’ll be right back my lady, don’t you go wondering off now,” he whispered, winking at you before he let go and went to see what the King wanted to talk about.

Prince Daemon turned to you, offering his hand.

“Would you like to dance my lady?”

You knew that you shouldn’t accept his offer. If your father could see you, he’d be glaring at you, that was certain. And yet, you took the prince’s hand, allowing him to twirl you around with the music, his other hand slipping around your waist like it belonged there.

He didn’t say anything, he just kept staring at you, those violet eyes of his calling out to you like a moth to a flame. You felt the rest of the world around you fade away, as if it was just you and him in the room. You didn’t care about Lord Borros’s disgusting offer, about how he was so sure you were going to do as he asked, despite your refusal. You didn’t care about the gossip that was probably already flaring at the sight of you and the dragon prince dancing, especially after his little stunt at the tourney grounds earlier today. You didn’t care about the scolding you would most likely receive from your father once this dance was over. You only cared about the warm hand wrapped around your waist, the intense gaze of the rogue dragon stripping you bare, the sudden urge you had to lean up and kiss those pale pink lips of his.

That last one almost made you lose your footing. How could you be feeling this way?

As if he could read your thoughts, prince Daemon glanced at your lips, making your cheeks blush. You could only hope he’d think it was due to the constant dancing.

“My lady, are you alright? You seem to have lost your tongue,” he observed, that smirk of his infuriating you and, at the same time, making your stomach flutter.

“I have not lost it my prince, I just choose to not use it,” you shrugged, trying to act as if he didn’t affect you as much as he did. “You should try it sometime.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” his smirk widened, “I’ve been known to be quite talented with my tongue my lady. Not putting it to good use seems such a waste, don’t you think?”

You knew that his comment should infuriate you, but for some reason it didn’t. Strange images filled your mind.

Daemon’s face between your legs, his tongue tasting you, making you writhe in ecstasy.

This time, it was his strong grip on your waist that spared you from tripping over and falling on your face. You resumed you steps, your mind racing. Where had that scandalous thought come from?

The dance thankfully ended, and you curtsied quickly, thanking him for his time before you made your way to your seat. You emptied your goblet in one go, pouring another one right away before draining that one as well. You dared to look around, but you couldn’t find the dragon prince anywhere.

Just as well, you thought. Playing with fire was never a good idea; sooner or later, you were bound to get burned.

You spotted lord Borros looking around for someone, probably you, so quickly but discreetly you got up and hid behind one of the pillars, praying that he hadn’t seen you. Peaking just a bit, you saw that another lord had caught his attention, so you hurried to make your way out of the hall. You didn’t care if you got an earful from your father. You needed clean air.

You walked the empty corridors of the Red Keep, making sure not to cross paths with anyone, if only to avoid any unwanted questions. Finally, you found yourself in one of the many gardens the castle had. It was absolutely deserted, the perfect place to ease your thumping heart and get your mind in order.

You sat on one of the wooden benches, listening to the crickets and the owls singing their nightly song. It was so peaceful, so beautiful to finally be left at peace for a change. You could almost pretend you were somewhere far away from here, in a safe place where no one could disturb you. It seemed too good to be true.

A soft noise from somewhere behind you broke through your pleasant fantasy, bringing you crashing back into reality.

You turned around and saw prince Daemon leaning against one of the walls, watching you with interest.

“Can I help you my prince?” you asked, cursing your voice for wavering a bit.

“I saw you leave in a hurry and felt concerned about you,” he shrugged, toying with a vine creeping up the wall next to him. “Why did you run away my lady?”

“I just needed some fresh air, the atmosphere in there is a bit overwhelming,” you lied through your teeth, hoping you were convincing enough.

“Really?” the prince questioned, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps closer to you. “Because to me it looked like you were running for your life.”

“I assure you that your observation could not be further from the truth,” you shook your head. “I got a bit tired, and thought to change my scenery a bit before I returned to the festivities. In fact, I think I am well enough to return, if you’ll excuse me,” you started to make your way back to the hall, only for the prince to step in your path, making you stop abruptly, almost crashing into him.

“What did that oaf tell you that got you so angry?”

His question took you by surprise. Someone had indeed noticed your discomfort, but it was the worst possible person to do so.

“I…I don’t know what you are talking about,” you shook your head, looking away.

You felt a warm hand touching your chin, turning it so you came face to face with those damn violet eyes once more.

“When you danced with that brutish moron, you looked ready to tear him to pieces and feed him to the dogs. I could feel your anger, your desire to carve him up and leave him for the vultures. So,” the prince insisted, glancing fleetingly at your lips, “I’m asking you again. What did he say to you?”

You knew you should keep your mouth shut. Logic dictated that, even if you did tell him what lord Borros had asked of you, he of all people would not oppose to the idea. His reputation as a frequent customer of the city’s brothels was well known. How could a man who had not even honored his lady wife understand the predicament lord Borros had brought you into?

“He asked me to sleep with him tonight, and if I please him, he will ask for my hand tomorrow.”

You half-expected him to laugh, to congratulate the storm lord for his suggestion. Instead, white-hot fury flashed in his eyes, so sudden and intense that you could feel it yourself coursing through your body. His grip on your chin was still gentle, yet his posture stiffened, his breath coming out harsh.

“I’m going to geld him and send him to the Wall,” he growled, actually growled, and you swore you could feel the dragon in him, rearing his head, ready to spew out fire and turn his enemies into ashes.

He let you go and turned to head back to the hall. Purely out of instinct, you grabbed his arm, stopping him from taking any further steps.

“What are you going to do?” you asked, panic making you shake like a leaf.

“Exactly as I said,” he said, shaking his arm free of our grip.

You hurried after him, catching up with him just as he exited the gardens.

“You can’t do that!” you exclaimed.

“Why not?” the prince challenged, his eyes flashing as he half turned towards you.

“He is the lord of Storm’s End!”

“And I am a prince of the realm,” the rogue dragon sneered, his head raising with arrogance.

“But you have no reason to punish him.”

“He made improper comments to you, and he asked you to compromise your honor, that is more than enough reason.”

“And who is going to believe my word over his?” you almost shouted, your anger breaking through your calm demeanor.

That stopped the prince from taking any more steps. He turned to face you, confusion marring his handsome face.

“What do you mean?”

You sighed, this whole night taking its toll on you.

“I am a daughter of a small house from the Riverlands. You think the people would believe me, a woman from a place of no importance and with no significant allies, or the word of the man ruling over the Stormlands? My reputation will be ruined, and I will never be able to marry anyone of importance.”

“So that is what you care about, marrying into a rich and wealthy family?”

“No,” you shook you head, looking away. “If I had it my way, I’d marry for love. But I know that is not possible for the firstborn daughter of a noble house. We are doomed to marry as our fathers see fit.”

“So you will give yourself to him, knowing that he can just as well reject you once he is done with you?”

“What choice do I have?” you exclaimed, you fury unchecked now. “If I tell my father about this, he will surely push me to comply with that monster’s wishes. He is willing to sacrifice anything in his power to achieve his goals, including my honor. I don’t have anyone else to turn to, no relative will take me in and risk my father’s displeasure.”

“You can talk about this with the king, or Rhaenyra, she will most definitely help you,” the prince suggested.

“I think the princess has more important things to think about that a stranger girl whining about her bad luck in suitors. No,” you shook your head, determined, “this is my problem to deal with. No one is to get involved, and that includes you as well,” you pointed at the prince. “Whatever I decide, I will do so on my own.”

He walked up to you, his eyes intense, but somehow that didn’t scare you. It brought that strange warmth in you again.

“You are going to walk in there and tell that oaf that you will not be joining him in his rooms tonight, or any other night.”

He didn’t even ask, he actually ordered you. You laughed humorlessly.

“And what am I going to tell my father when he hears that I wasn’t able to achieve the task he set for me?”

His hand slithered up your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulled your face closer to his, your breaths mingling together. You knew, deep down, you should be afraid. You should be pulling free of him, running away from this dangerous man, but you still stood here before him, your heart beating so fast, you were certain he could hear it too.

The dragon prince’s lips touched yours, a feathery touch that jolted your entire being, shook you to your very core, but in the best way possible. You were certain you had died, or maybe you were in your bed, dreaming. There was no way this was actually happening to you. It felt too good to be true.

You closed your eyes, letting this amazing sensation wash you over, overwhelm you and take you with it. You felt a strong hand wrapping itself around your waist, and you realized Daemon was pulling you towards him, your bodies molding together, the perfect half finding its match in the other. You lifted your arms, locking them around his neck, pulling him even closer to you, if that was possible. His lips moved against yours, a soft moan echoing in the empty garden. You belatedly realized that it had come from you.

Both of Daemon’s arms wrapped around you as he continued kissing you, making sure you were unable to escape him, not that you’d ever do that. You’d rather die than leave his embrace.

His tongue caressed your lower lip, and you gasped, surprised at the new sensation. He took this opportunity and slipped his tongue in your mouth, and a whole new set of feelings attacked your senses. He tasted of wine, with a soft touch of strawberries, and something else that was probably his own taste. It didn’t matter; you loved it most of all, and couldn’t get enough of it. Your tongues danced their own dance, teasing, testing, exploring. Your whole body hummed with a need, you didn’t know exactly what, but you knew you needed it now.

You broke off a while later, only because you both needed to breathe. Daemon didn’t waste any time though. He attacked your lips anew, while lifting you off your feet and making a small turn. Your back felt the hard stone wall of the corridor as Daemon pushed you up against it. You could feel his battle hardened lean body pressing against your curves, the friction and pressure stocking on the fire burning low in your belly.

He tore his mouth from yours, making you whine in protest, but the whine soon turned into a moan as he started peppering your neck with soft kisses and bites, which he soothed with his tongue. You wrapped your hands around his torso, pulling him onto you, trying to get as close to him as you could with all the clothes separating you.

Daemon descended from your neck, nipping at the skin of your bosom, driving you mad with need.

“Daemon,” you gasped, lifting your chest, offering yourself to him.

He lifted his head to gaze at you, and you saw how wide his eyes were, the irises completely blown, that lovely shade of violet barely visible.

You attacked him like a wild animal, kissing him with a passion you had no idea you possessed.

You felt him groan, pushing his hips against yours as he kissed you deeply. You could feel his cock, hard as a steel rod, poking at you through his trousers, demanding your attention. You moaned, wanting more of it, you had no idea what, but you knew you wanted it, and you wanted it now.

He broke off the kiss, both of you standing still, breathing heavily. He lifted his head to look at you, and you could see the primal need, the hunger he had for you, a hunger you knew he could see in your eyes.

Before you could pull him for another kiss, a thunderous laughter echoed throughout the garden, breaking through your hazy mind, accompanied by a girlish giggle. You turned towards the location of the noise and saw lord Borros, clearly drunk, his arm around some girl’s waist, the two of them stumbling off towards the stairs that led to the guest rooms. Thankfully enough neither of them had noticed you.

“Looks like your intended found someone else to spend his night with,” Daemon whispered, his voice rougher than you remembered. It sent shivers down your spine, pleasant shivers.

“He could go to the Seven Hells for all I care,” you smirked at him, the hunger growing.

“And your father?”

“He can join the bastard in hell too,” you spat, anger filling you, but only for a little. The waves of passion were too strong to be calmed now.

“Good,” Daemon smirked, attacking your lips again.

You relished in the feeling of his lips, the way his hands roamed down your back, caressing your bottom before reaching the back of your thigh. He gripped your leg, pulling it up. You instinctively wrapped it around his waist, and he groaned once more as he pushed into you over your smallclothes, making you groan with pleasure.

More voices came from nearby, and Daemon cursed under his tongue, pulling back a bit, turning towards that direction.

“The feast must be almost over,” you gasped, trying to kiss him once more.

“Yes,” he grunted, still rocking into you, if only slightly, as he did it without thinking about it.

“Take me to your room,” you whispered, and even you were surprised at your forward nature. You really were asking him exactly what that moron Baratheon had asked of you.

He looked at you with those dark eyes of his, contemplating for a while before lowering his head in defeat.

“No.”

One small word, and the fire was drowned, as if he had dropped a bucket of ice water on your head.

You pulled away from him almost violently, not sure if you would attack him to kiss him once more, or poke his eyes out for making you feel so good, only to steal the feeling away with a single word.

You glared at him something fierce, fire licking at your veins. You didn’t say anything else, only took off to your chambers, ignoring his calls as you ran away.

That night, you cried yourself to sleep, cursing yourself for letting yourself fall in his trap. Now you knew why everyone warned women to stay away from him. He only wanted to use women for his own pleasure, he would never take them seriously.

You stared at the ceiling, trying to understand him. How could he be so full of passion and need the one minute, only to turn you down when you willingly offered yourself to him?

You decided to stay as far away from him as you could, and promised to double your efforts in winning lord Borros. He was the goal, the reason your father had brought you here. Tomorrow night, you’d go to his chambers, give yourself to him, marry him and make sure you never came across the Rogue Prince ever again.

--

Daemon didn’t get a wink of sleep after the feast, tossing and turning in his bed all night. He had not even considered going down to the Street of Silk to ease the discomfort his feisty lady had caused him. He knew that, no matter how many women he fucked, he would never be fully satisfied. Only she could, and he would never take her up on her offer. Those feelings she had awoken, whatever they were, they were too strong. So strong, they frightened him.

Daemon had never been afraid of anything. Not when he had been exiled, not even when he had gone to face the Crabfeeder all by himself. Fear was an alien emotion to him, and yet this woman frightened him with her offer, an offer he would have gladly accepted if it had been any other woman. He had slept with numerous women in his life, and each one had been good only for as long as he took his pleasure. He didn’t give them a second thought afterwards, moving on like nothing had happened.

But this one… She was different. It awoke strange thoughts in his mind, thoughts that he never expected to have for any woman. He didn’t want to have her just for one night. He wanted her forever, to have her beside him until the end of time. He could easily imagine himself with her, sitting in the garden she liked so much, their children around them, everyone so happy and content.

The image was so vivid, it shook him to his very core. Daemon never believed much in love. He had witnessed what it can do, how it can make a man lose the light from his eyes and become a shadow of his former self. After his mother had died 6 months after she gave birth to his little brother, his father had never been the same. The babe had followed her to the grave soon after, and his father aged a decade in just one year, barely able to smile for his two remaining sons.

He also remembered how Viserys was after he lost his Aemma. No, Daemon shook his head, love was a dangerous thing. He wanted no part of it.

And yet, he could not get her out of his mind. The feel of her body against his, the sounds she made when he kissed her, the warmth of her body when he pressed her against the wall…

He shook his head violently, trying to cast the thoughts away, but in vain. They tormented him all night, not letting him have even the slightest amount of sleep.

A little after dawn, he rose from his bed, got dressed and headed out to find his brother, the King. Maybe he would be able to help him figure out what was going on with him and why he could not stop thinking about her.

He found the King in his bedchamber, surrounded by the enormous stone model of the Valyrian Freehold. Viserys had been trying to carve a chimera out of a small piece of limestone, when Daemon entered.

His brother gazed up at him, smiling.

“This is a rare occurrence. What brings you to me brother?”

“I seem to be losing my mind,” Daemon replied, pacing back and forth, never staying in one place for long.

“What troubles you?” the king asked, concerned.

“I can’t get a woman out of my head. Everything I think about, everything I feel, they all lead back to her. I’m starting to think she has put a spell on me.”

The King rose from his seat, observing his brother closely for a few minutes, before bursting into hearty laughter.

Daemon glared at him, angry that his brother would choose such a difficult time to make fun of him.

“I fail to see what is so amusing to you brother, unless it is my anger and frustration that caused your mirth,” he spat, never ceasing his pacing.

Viserys approached his brother, his laughter diminishing to a mere chuckle. He patted his younger brother on the back, smiling fondly.

“Daemon, it seems you finally found the woman who holds your heart.”

Daemon pulled away from his brother’s grasp, looking away, hoping his eyes wouldn’t betray him.

“Don’t be absurd Viserys, how can I be in love with a woman I barely know?” he exclaimed.

“You don’t need to know her that well to fall in love with her brother,” Viserys shook his head. “If she is the one for you, then you only need a few moments with her to know that you are destined to be with her.”

Daemon huffed, heading towards a table nearby, filling a goblet with wine and downing it all in one go.

“Who is she?” the King asked.

Daemon ignored him, pouring more wine into the goblet.

“Come now brother, I know you did not come all the way here to keep silent on the matter. You came here to discuss this with your older brother, so sit down and start talking.”

Though Daemon wanted to refuse, he eventually sat down across from his brother, nursing his wine, scowling into the depths of the dark liquid.

“Ever since I saw her, I have been having all these feelings, strange emotions overwhelm me, it’s like I’m losing control of my body. How can I be feeling like this about a woman I don’t even know?”

The King smiled at his brother.

“This is what usually happens Daemon, when one meets the love of their life. That was how I felt when I first saw Aemma.”

Viserys’s gaze turned melancholic, memories of his late wife’s lovely face smiling at him coming in his mind.

“But it’s not just that,” Daemon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know that some say they know when their husband or wife are feeling sad or happy, but I swear to you, I can actually feel it. Last night, when she was dancing with that Baratheon cunt, I could feel her disgust, her anger at him.”

Viserys listened to what his brother said, watching him closely.

“What else have you observed about her?”

“I told you, it’s unnatural, entirely not possible, but I swear I can feel her, like she is a part of me. I can even tell you where she is right now, if I concentrate enough. I’m either losing my mind, or she has put a spell on me somehow.”

The King’s eyes widened, his mouth opening in surprise.

“Daemon, you’ve found your other half.”

The Rogue Prince rose from his seat, turning towards the open balcony doors.

“You are being absurd. Love is not a feeling I understand. Passion, yes, anger, sorrow, even happiness, I can feel those, but do not expect me to believe that I fell in love with her simply because I saw her a handful of times. I am attracted to her, but love is too big of a word for me.”

“No Daemon, you don’t understand,” the king rose from his seat and headed for his personal library in an alcove next to the bedchamber. Here he kept all the books that he loved the most, close by if he wished to indulge in some reading.

He pulled one of the oldest tomes if the collection and brought it to the table.

“Do you remember when our mother told us of the old tales from Valyria? How they believed in magic, in the connections between people?”

Daemon turned to look at his brother, confusion all over his handsome face.

“What of it?”

“There was this one myth, about how a few rare Valyrians had the luck to find what is called their soulmate. When they did, a certain bond was formed between the two, one so strong they could actually feel what the other felt.”

Viserys turned the pages until he found the chapter he wanted.

“See? The first of the signs that you have found your soulmate is the ability to know what the other feels, as if you experienced it yourself.”

Daemon approached cautiously, as if the book would hurt him. He read the passage, but shook his head in defiance.

“Those are just tales brother, things like that don’t happen,” he scoffed.

“You cannot deny that magic flows through our veins Daemon. Our ability to bond with our dragons is more than enough proof, not to mention the rare cases of dreamers. It was because of Daenys the Dreamer that our family escaped the Doom. Magic does exist in this world, and this is probably another rare form of it.”

He continued reading the chapter in silence, while Daemon tried to understand what his brother was suggesting. He remembered that strange warm feeling that filled him when he locked gazes with you, but he had dismissed it as the thrill of the victory. Being the prince, he had come across many women who would make eyes at him. Most of them only wanted him for his station, for the thrill of being with a member of the royal family. Others avoided him due to his reputation. But you, you had looked at him like you saw only him. Not the royal blood, not the roguish ways, not the ever-present smirk, just him, a man trying to prove himself to the world, all the while fighting the enemies of his brother, as well as his own demons.

“When did you first realize you could feel what she feels?” Viserys questioned, bringing Daemon out of his deep thoughts.

The prince thought about it for a moment.

“At the tourney, when I brought her favor back to her, after the fight ended.”

“Ah yes, that had the people gossiping,” the King smiled softly.

“I walked up to her and handed her the wreath, but her gaze left me speechless, paralyzed before her.”

“Exactly as it is described in the book,” Viserys nodded, pointing to a particular passage. “The first contact is usually made when the two soulmates lock gazes. After that, the bond is formed, and it grows stronger when the couple spends more time together. Any emotion one feels, so does the other.”

Daemon paused, remembering how he felt during the feast the night before, when he saw you dancing with your intended. Anger had consumed him, as well as disgust and fear. He had reacted purely out of instinct when he came to separate you from lord Baratheon. And then you had danced, and everything and everyone had faded, as if you were alone in the room.

The prince stared at his brother, who was smiling softly at him.

“Do you really think she could be my other half?” he asked him.

“Well, try and imagine your life without her. Think of her married to lord Baratheon, pregnant with his child, staying in Storm’s End for the rest of her life, until the Stranger claims her. How does that make you feel?”

A sense of absolute sadness and depression filled Daemon, his heart almost stopping at the thought of you belonging to someone else. He knew that lord Borros would never treat you properly, he’d never love you as you were meant to be loved. The very thought of that oaf touching you, fucking you, it made him want to kill someone.

The king rose from his seat and approached his brother.

“Go to her,” he said. “It is indeed a rare thing for someone to find their soulmate. Don’t lose her Daemon. Lord Borros is set to leave soon, and if he proposes to her, her father will make sure the marriage is done as quickly as possible.”

Daemon’s heart filled with resolve. He nodded at his brother, then turned towards the door. He would make sure to find you and ask you to be his, before it was too late.

--

Hope you guys liked it, I'll be posting the third and final part as soon as I possibly can!

#prince daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine

[vassia-sparta]

Hey! i'm the anon who requested daemon x reader soul mates part 2 (the one where she soothes him specifically) just wanted to say i loved it and it definitely exceeded my expectations. Thank you so much💕💕💕💕

You're very welcome my dear!!!

If you want, check out the prequel of sorts I have posted.

[vassia-sparta]

Daemon Soulmate AU - How the bond was discovered - Part 1

So sorry it took this long to get this out, but I had originally intended to keep this short. However, inspiration turned this into a long fic, so I'll be cutting it into parts. I have not finished it yet, but I intend it to have three parts.

Before you met your soulmate, you would have never expected to become the wife of a Targaryen prince. Being the daughter of a minor lord from the Riverlands, you were expected to marry according to your station. House Bracken, or maybe Blackwood, or even Tully, if you could ever be that lucky. Any of those would be great for you.

However, your father, being an ambitious man, took you with him to the capital, hoping you’d catch the eye of a powerful lord, bringing glory and prestige to your house with such a successful match. He made sure you were dressed in modest, yet attractive dresses and a few delicate jewelry, and he instructed you to be within sight of any prospective heirs, either walking up and down the hallways of the Red Keep, or standing close to the courtyard where the knights trained.

You did as he instructed, and you even managed to catch the eye of lord Borros Baratheon, which pleased your father greatly. You future seemed to be set in stone, and you had even tried to make your peace with it. Growing up you had dreamed of marrying for love, finding that one man who would look at you as if you were his entire world. You now knew of course that such thoughts were foolish dreams, so you compromised. After all, most girls would give up almost everything to become the wife of the lord of Storm’s End.

The day of the tourney organized to celebrate Queen Alicent’s nameday dawned, and you got dressed in your best dress, a violet one with silver flowers embroidered on the sleeves and hem. It was your favorite color ever since you could remember, so you chose it to make sure you made a good impression on lord Borros. He was going to compete in the tourney, so maybe if he won, he would crown you his Queen of Love and Beauty, which was as good as a proposal, according to your father.

You sat in the lower seats, closer to the tourney grounds, eager to see the fights. Most girls were quite squeamish, but not you. You longed to see these brave men compete against each other, like those you had read about in your books. There was even a rumor that prince Daemon, the King’s brother, would compete as well. Everyone at court spoke of him, of his rogue and wild ways. But they also spoke of his flirty nature, and his teasing of every pretty maiden he came across. Recently widowed, after his late wife died in a hunting accident not three moons past, he became the target of every unmarried maiden in court. Your father had warned you to stay away from him though, as it was known how he had disrespected the late lady Rhea Royce during their marriage. There were even rumors that he had not even consummated the marriage, preferring the company of whores. Still, you were curious to see the famous man in person.

The matches began, and they were nothing like you expected. You were not prepared for the brutality of the hits, or the scent of blood that filled the arena every time some unfortunate man got badly wounded. Three men died before midday, yet the people cheered even harder every time the horses clashed. You were starting to reconsider on your opinion of these tourneys.

The next match was announced, and you held your breath. Lord Borros was going to compete against prince Daemon. First lord Borros entered the arena, and he rode his horse up to where you sat, dressed in his shining armor, his helmet in the shape of a stag’s head, complete with antlers.

“My lady, may I have the honor of carrying your favor today, so that I may be victorious in this difficult fight?”

You gave him the wreath you had made with a soft smile, and he even kissed it in front of everyone before he made his way to his corner. You knew that you should have felt something when he did that, but there was nothing. Your heart didn’t beat any faster, your cheeks didn’t heat up, absolutely no reaction. As if your body and mind knew that this man was not the one for you. You shook your head, trying to get such silly notions out of your head. You barely knew lord Borros. In time, you would come to love him. At least, you hoped you would.

Prince Daemon entered the arena, clad in his black armor. His helmet, shaped in the head of a dragon, covered his entire face, leaving only his eyes out. The people cheered for him so loud, it was deafening. He was truly the prince of the city, as you had heard some whisper. People loved their King, but they adored their prince.

He didn’t ask for any lady’s favor, only sat on his magnificent black stallion at the opposite side from lord Borros, the beast eager to jump ahead. The squires gave the lances to the two men, and the match began. The two horses raced towards each other, the lances lowering to hit the opponent. The impact was deafening, prince Daemon’s lance shattering against lord Borros’s shield. The storm lord still sat on his horse however, and when he reached the end of the arena he turned his horse around, then set off to attack the prince once more.

The second run was not much different. Prince Daemon’s lance found its mark once more, only this time it was with enough force to knock lord Borros off his horse, sending him to crash on the dirt. The crowds cheered for their prince, while the announcer declared prince Daemon winner of the joust.

Lord Borros got up on his feet, swaying a little, unsteady.

“Warhammer!” he yelled, his squire hurrying to give him the mighty weapon.

“Lord Borros wishes to continue in a contest of arms!” the announcer declared, and the crowd cheered anew.

Of course they would want to see more of this, you thought. The people always thirsted for bloodshed, as long as they could observe from a safe distance.

The dragon prince got off his horse and called for his sword. You had never seen the famous Dark Sister before. It was beautiful. He grabbed it and made his way towards lord Borros, twirling the valyrian steel blade in his hand.

The two men came together in the middle of the field, the clang of their weapons echoing all over the arena. Lord Borros fought angrily, swinging the warhammer at prince Daemon, but the other man was too quick for him. The dragon dodged all the attacks, delivering blows to the storm lord’s sides. At one point, lord Borros almost managed to crush the prince with a blow on his shield, but the hammer lodged into the wood, and the two men wrestled, trying to separate, with little success. Prince Daemon saw an opportunity and kicked Lord Borros’s feet from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. The storm lord lost his grip on his hammer and, before he could grab it once more, the dragon prince jumped on him and placed his blade against his neck, immobilizing him.

“Yield,” he declared.

Lord Borros huffed and puffed, but saw that there was no way to escape.

The prince pushed the blade a bit further, drawing the tiniest amount of blood from his opponent’s neck.

“Yield, or die before your lady’s eyes,” he called out, much to your embarrassment.

Defeated, lord Borros yielded, and the crowds cheered once more for their prince.

Victorious, prince Daemon walked all the way where lord Borros has tossed his lance and removed the wreath you had made. He walked his way toward the seating area, stopping right in front of you. You could feel your blood freezing in your veins, and you wondered what he was going to do. Would he ridicule you in front of everyone? Beside you, your father also stood motionless.

The dragon prince removed his helmet and lifted his gaze to look at you. The moment your eyes locked, the ice in you was replaced with fire. All traces of fear and embarrassment vanished, and a warm feeling filled you from your toes to your head. You wanted to move, to step away from whatever it was he was doing to you, but your body wouldn’t respond. You saw those deep violet eyes, the same color as your dress, staring right into your soul, but you didn’t fear them. You knew, deep in your heart, that he would never hurt you.

The prince seemed to be bereft of speech as well, staring at you, saying nothing. His mouth was slightly open, his chest rising slowly. In the end, he smiled at you, a soft smile that sent a new wave of warmth through you.

After you father coughed a bit loudly, he seemed to return to his senses, and a smirk replaced the soft smile on his face.

“My lady, I believe this is yours,” he offered the wreath to you. His voice sent jolts up and down your spine, like invisible fingers teasing your back.

You took the wreath in your trembling hands, your eyes never leaving his.

“It seems you favor helped me more than your storm lord,” the prince teased you, his eyes full of playfulness.

“Then you should keep it my prince,” you replied, and you could feel your father tensing even more beside you.

You knew that such a move was outrageous, that you would be the talk of the entire court, but you didn’t care. Something in you screamed at you to do it, so you did.

The prince was surprised by your reply, but he quickly recovered, and took the wreath back in his hands.

“Thank you sweet lady,” the prince bowed his head, licking his lips as he gave you one last glance. Then he turned and exited the arena, while the people cheered him once more.

--

Your father was furious when you returned to your chambers.

“What were you thinking, offering your favor to your intended’s opponent? Do you know how that makes you look in his eyes?” he raged, while you sat on your seat, head down, hands clasped tightly on your lap.

“I apologize father, but I thought it was only right, since prince Daemon defeated lord Borros,” you muttered.

“You foolish girl,” he threw his goblet on the floor, “what if lord Borros decides not to ask for your hand, what will we do then?”

Though you knew you should be horrified at such a prospect, you were actually relieved at the idea. Somehow, you no longer could imagine yourself beside lord Baratheon, playing the role of dutiful wife, raising your children and keeping your house in order.

In your imagination, the man beside you had flowing silver hair, a pair of haunting violet eyes and a playful smirk that promised of many mischiefs.

The warmth you had felt earlier returned, but only until your father’s words broke through your pleasant fantasy.

“Tomorrow night, at the banquet, you will do your very best to get close to lord Borros, and make sure you are far away from the prince. His reputation is more than enough to destroy you, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that spoiled brat ruin my plans.”

You had the sudden urge to defend the dragon prince, but you shut your mouth before you could say anything that would further anger your father. Instead, you bowed your head, promising to do your duty, even if you didn’t like it.

--

The next day, your father had to meet with some important people, so you took the opportunity to escape to the gardens, hoping that the pretty flowers and the quiet would help clear your mind. You had spent your night dreaming of violet eyes, dragonfire and a sultry voice that beckoned to you. You woke up sweaty and with an unexplained ache between your legs. You had no idea what is was, so you did your best to ignore it.

You dressed in a simple light blue dress, tied your hair in a simple braid and made your way down to the gardens, trying to avoid any people. You knew that you had been the talk of the day, so you tried to steer clear of any gossipers, if only to keep the situation from getting worse.

You found a nice secluded spot in the gardens and sat on a stone bench, enjoying the delicate flowers blooming all over you and the birds chirping on the trees. You spent a lot of time just looking around taking in the vibrant colors, the different fragrances and the gentle breeze that caressed your face.

You were so lost in your own little world, that you didn’t hear the footsteps that approached your little spot.

“Good morning my lady,” the voice that had haunted your dreams last night came from your right, and a shiver ran down your spine. You turned to look at him, and your breath paused, just like the day before. What was it about him that made you feel like that?

“Good morning my prince,” you nodded, averting your gaze, even if it hurt you to do so. You remembered your father’s words, and rose from your seat, hoping to leave before anyone saw you with the prince.

“Do I frighten you so much that you want to flee at my very sight?” the dragon prince questioned, making you pause. He was dressed in a white linen shirt and a black leather doublet emblazoned with the sigil of his house. Black pants and boots completed his attire. His sword was absent, but he had a dagger strapped on his belt.

“No my prince, I just thought you might want to be alone, I don’t mean to impose.”

“On the contrary, I was actually looking for you.”

You turned to look at him, and tried really hard not to let those haunting violet eyes consume you whole.

“Why?” was all you were able to reply.

“I was just curious to meet the woman lord Borros is so interested in. If you managed to attract his attention for more than a night, then you must be someone special.”

You felt your cheeks redden at his comment. It was well known that lord Borros frequented the Street of Silk, and had even fathered no less than three bastards, on three different women. And the worst? He kept all three women close to Storm’s End, and visited each of them when he felt like it.

When you had mentioned all that to your father, he had simply shrugged and said: “As long as he decides to marry you and gives you an heir, the rest is irrelevant.”

You gritted your teeth, trying not to let your anger get the best of you. After all, this was a member of the royal family you stood before. No matter what he said, you had to remain calm.

“Excuse me my prince, I think I’ll take my walk in a different place,” you simply replied, avoiding to look at him.

“Why, we are having a pleasant conversation,” the man had the audacity to ask. You could feel the smugness emanating from him, you really could.

“No we don’t,” you flashed your gaze at him. “You’d have to be pleasant for that to happen my prince, and I assure you, you are anything but pleasant. Good day,” you curtsied, abandoning him in the gardens.

You knew that he had enjoyed tormenting you with his cruel words. You wanted nothing more than to hurt him in some way, but instead you decided to take a long walk, hoping to let off some steam. Maybe if you found lord Borros and managed to get him to ask for your hand, you’d soon get married and get as far away from the capital as possible.

--

Daemon stood in the spot you had left him, watching you as you fled from the gardens, amused. He had no idea why he liked riling you up, but he did. He could feel the anger flowing through you, he relished in the feeling it gave him.

He had caught a glimpse of you just before the tourney had started, when that oaf Baratheon had made a spectacle of asking for your favor. Did he really think that such a pathetic move would be enough to win over the heart of a woman?

Daemon could see that you were not interested in him. You were just doing your duty, as per your station. Yet your father was trying his best to get the storm lord to ask for your hand, despite the foul reputation the oaf had.

It would be a shame, Daemon thought, to let a woman like you be sullied by a man like Borros. It was why he had brought the favor back to you after the match had ended. It was scandalous, to be sure, but Daemon was never known to be a man of discretion. Not to mention that your dress was his favorite shade of purple, so close to the color of his eyes. It almost called to him.

He still remembered that warm feeling that had enveloped him when your eyes met. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. Being a dragon, he was no stranger to warmness and fire; yet this was different. This type of fire was neither harmful, nor scorching. It was the sort you felt when you were near someone you cared, someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with…

He shook his head, trying to get a grip on his wild emotions. Perhaps it would be best to steer clear of you for the foreseeable future. It was not his place to interfere with the affairs of lords and ladies. He promised to keep away from you, hoping the oaf would ask for your hand soon, and you’d be out of his life soon. Yes, that would be ideal. He left the gardens, heading to the Dragonpit to take Caraxes for a flight, ignoring the pang he felt when he thought of you married to the Baratheon fool. Yes, a flight would surely help him clear his head.

--

There goes the first one. I'll be posting the second one soon!

#daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic

[vassia-sparta]

Hey honey! about daemon x reader soul mates, could i get an imagine/oneshot nsfw with them discovering they are soul mates and testing the bond in every way possible for the first time please?

Oh yes, this is very interesting! I'll let the writer goblin know, though from the moment I read your question, it started jumping in glee!

[vassia-sparta]

Daemon Targaryen x OC Soulmate AU - Part 2

So, I received a request after I posted my last fic, and this one was created. In this, the bond between Daemon and his wife is explored a little bit more.

Trigger warnings: mentions of violence, child abuse

Part one here

Daemon was never known for his calm demeanor, that much was true. Most of those at court knew not to rile him up, lest they wake the dragon. Much like his Red Wyrm, once angered, Daemon could not be tamed or reasoned with. Yet there was always someone who tried his very best to drive him to his very limits, maybe even over them.

There was no love lost between Daemon and Otto Hightower, the King’s Hand. From the very first moment those two met, you could feel the hostility, the anger gathering in the room like a poisonous smoke. Otto always did everything he could to bring up the volatile and rogue nature of the Targaryen Prince, advising the King to remove him from court, for the good of the realm. Daemon, on the other hand, never lost the chance to tease and taunt his adversary, either through his weak spots, or simply ignoring everything the other man said and doing as he thought best. And in the middle of it all the King and the rest of the small council, trying to keep things from going out of hand.

Today was just one such day, only the scene was unfolding in front of the entire court. The two men were arguing about another bout of harsh punishments Daemon had delivered throughout the city. From what the rumors spoke of, he had maimed or killed at least 30 people, delivering each punishment himself, personally.

“Your Grace, this unchecked behavior of the prince cannot go any further. Reports show that him and his gold-cloaked thugs made a festival of the slaughter, teasing those about to be punished with sneers and jests. There were even some who claimed that one of the soldiers dismembered a man down at the docks, while the prince watched and drank wine with his friends.”

Everyone in the room stood aghast of such a revelation, and you tried your very best not to stumble when the wave of absolute fury hit you like a wall.

Lord Otto ignored the whispers coming from the crowd gathered to hear today’s proceedings, and turned towards the King sitting on the Iron Throne.

“Are we really supposed to let a wild animal like him roam free through the city, doing what he wants to the innocent people of King’s Landing without getting punished for it? Already there are several merchants and tradesmen complaining about the damages done to their shops during the raid. If we let this go on, we will have a riot in our hands.”

Several courtiers agreed with the Hand, while you kept your eyes on your husband. He looked absolutely murderous, his hand twitching on the handle of his Valyrian sword. You knew that, if this went on any further, Daemon would draw his sword, and things would go downhill from then on.

You stood near the front of the crowd, your mind reeling, trying to find a way to ease the tension. It seemed impossible, Daemon was one word away from turning his enemy into pieces before the entire court, and the smug expression on lord Otto’s face didn’t help with the matter.

Then you remembered something you had read in that book from Old Valyria about the magic of the soulmate bond. It was observed among soulmates that, when one of them were in some sort of distress, the other could have a calming effect on them if they could focus on it. You had read about a young dragonlord who had managed to calm down his wife during her labor. The child was descending feet first, causing so much pain to its mother that she had seized the healer’s knife and tried to cut through her belly to get the baby out. The young lord had managed to stop her and held her in her arms, whispering soothing words to her as the midwife tried her best to turn the baby around and deliver it safely. He had been successful, and both the mother and her child had made it through the ordeal.

You knew that you couldn’t just go and hug your husband in order to do the same, but you could at least try to use the bond to somehow ease his anger. You took a few deep breaths, letting everything else around you fade and focus on your connection. The fiery waves of anger still came through, one stronger than the other. You closed your eyes, bringing to mind one of the most treasured memories you shared with your husband.

A few months into your marriage, Daemon had taken you for your first flight on his dragon. Caraxes had taken quite a liking to you, and the two of you had flown on his back all over Blackwater Bay, before landing on a small island within sight of Dragonstone. Daemon told you that he used to come here as a kid after his parents died, to escape the tediousness of court life and the many women who wanted him for their husband.

“It’s my resting place, the one place I can be myself, without anyone judging me or glaring at me,” your husband had whispered as you both lay on the grass staring at the clouds passing over you. It really was a small paradise, with a small patch of trees to the south, some rocky hills with caves under them, and a small beach with white sand and small seashells spread all over it. You really could see yourself living here for the rest of your life, just you, Daemon and all the children you would have. No courtiers, no fights with devious men who sought to hurt your husband, only peace, clear skies and the endless sea surrounding your home.

You felt the anger slowly fading away, a sense of calmness and peace replacing it. It was as if a gentle sea wave washed over you, putting out the fire, leaving you cool and refreshed. You opened your eyes and looked at your husband. He looked calm, but also surprised. He glanced at you, and you gave him an encouraging smile. His eyes shined with joy, a small smile gracing his face.

Then he turned to his adversary, but there was no anger this time. Instead, the sense of calm was reinforced somehow, stabilizing it.

“I think you are missing a few key pieces of information my lord Hand, allow me to enlighten you,” Daemon simply stated, his voice steady.

Otto Hightower looked at him with distrust, but said nothing.

“The raid I conducted last night was not like the one I led some years ago. That time I had punished all the criminals I could find, yes, but last night has specific targets.”

“And what targets were those?” the lord Hand questioned.

“Ever since I returned from the Stepstones, I have been trying to restore the Watch back to the standards I set when I was in charge. Though most of the men are honorable, dedicated to their duty, there are some among them who have been corrupted by bribes, paid to look the other way so criminals can continue conducting their business without interruption. One such criminal is a man named Timeon Black, so nicknamed for his rotten heart. He was one of the last men I arrested last night, and the only one I left for the King to decide his fate.”

“And what has that man done to deserve punishment?” the King asked his brother.

“He is the leader of a pack of thugs who have been trying to rule over most of Flea Bottom, one way or another. Some are paid by the traders to make sure their shops are not damaged, others kidnap people to enslave, including girls to be sold to the Street of Silk, as well as orphans from the motherhouses, to be trained and used as fighters in fighting pits, either against animals or each other.”

“Gods be good,” the King gasped, as did several of those amongst the crowd.

“After I made sure the goldcloaks in league with that monster were detained and locked up in the Black Cells, me and ser Harwin took 100 of our best men and hunted down each and every one of Black’s men, delivering to each of them the punishment they deserved for their crimes. Yes, if you don’t know what those men did, the punishments I delivered sound harsh. What do you think now that you know the entire story?”

Lord Otto stood speechless, his lips pressed together tightly.

“As for the man we dismembered, he was the gatekeeper of the fighting pits, in charge of keeping the children fighters locked in their cages, like wild animals. When we burst into the building, he had been beating a 10 year-old girl with a walking stick for losing him a lot of money. When he saw us he just smiled, kicking her back in her cage before he tried to attack my men. I ask you, what would you have done, give him a slap on the wrist?”

The Hand had absolutely nothing to say. You could feel the glee enveloping your mate, bright and sparkling.

“You have performed your duties with excellence,” the King glanced at his brother, his gaze full of pride. “I do recognize that such acts of violence may sound cruel, but against such heinous criminals, it was exactly what should have been done. Continue to perform your duties as you see fit, and I will see to it personally that the men that assisted you to this raid are given rewards for their actions. My lord Hand,” he turned to the other man, “perhaps you should make sure you have all the information before you start making accusations. Your relentless campaign to sully my opinion of my brother is becoming tiresome.”

Daemon bowed to his brother, then turned to leave, not even glancing at Otto Hightower. The Hand bowed to the King as well, then disappeared through a back door, ignoring the whispers of everyone around him.

Your husband approached you, his eyes shining. You could feel the happiness filling him, and that in turn made you happy.

“May we take a walk in the gardens my lady?” he enquired, offering his arm.

“Of course my dear husband,” you nodded, taking his arm and letting him walk you out of the throne room.

He led you to a secluded spot in the gardens, away from prying eyes and ears.

“What did you do to me?” he asked when you both sat on a stone bench near a rose bush.

“I tried to calm you down,” you shrugged, smiling softly at him.

“But how?”

“You were about to attack that bitter excuse of a man, and I was not going to let him take advantage of your temper. You might be a monster to him, but to me you are my hero, my dragon knight. I simply used our bond to ease your anger and help you think more clearly.”

Your mate took your face in his hands and kissed you softly, filling you with warmth and joy.

“What have I done to deserve you?” he whispered, his violet eyes staring into your very soul.

“You are an honorable man with a good heart my love, and don’t you forget it. Now, let us put the events of this day behind us. How about we go take Caraxes for a flight, maybe visit Driftmark?”

“That sounds lovely,” Daemon smiled.

-----

Hope you enjoyed it!

Taglist: @alexandra-001, @the-mechanical-angel

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen imagine #hotd fanfic #daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon targaryen #house of the dragon

[vassia-sparta]

I read your daemon x reader soul mates and I loved it, so I would like to know if you could write a sequel where reader researches more about the bond and finds that when one wants they can have a calming effect on the other (regardless of the situation) so for some reason (maybe with some attitude from Viserys or Otto said something or anything, you decide) Daemon is angry (like a lot) and reader decides to test this discovery on him, with a lot of fluff and a little angst, please? (feel free to ignore, and sorry for my english)

This is a great idea for a sequel, I'll get right on it!

#soulmate au #hotd fanfic #daemon targaryen imagine

[vassia-sparta]

Daemon Targaryen x OC Soulmate AU

So, I came across a concept idea where you are married to Daemon Targaryen and you are each other's soulmate, which gives you the ability to feel everything the other feels. Thus, this dirty fic came out of my mind.

Credit for the concept goes to @missglaskin and the anonymous darling who suggested it to them.

I don't own House of the Dragon or Daemon Targaryen (though I wish I did).

This contains adult themes, so if you are below 18 years of age, please move on.

Daemon Targaryen always prided himself in his ability to keep his emotions hidden from everyone. Not even his own brother could tell what he felt most of the time. It was necessary, to keep himself alive in the face of all those who wanted to see him dead.

 Only one person knew exactly how he felt all the time. You, his wife and soulmate.

It had surprised both of you when you had realized that the stories and old tales his mother had told him were true. According to an old legend found in a dusty tome from the libraries of Old Valyria, true-blooded Valyrians had a soulmate somewhere in the world. When the two pieces of the soul found each other, a bond was formed between them. Through the bond, one could feel everything their mate felt, be it happiness, anger, sadness, grief and, most of all, pleasure.

The Rogue Prince still remembered your wedding night, how intense it felt when you pleasured each other, how the sense of bliss overwhelmed both of you when you reached your peak together. It had been something he had never experienced with any of the women he had slept with.

Since no one had any information about how the bond worked, you had tried several times to experiment with it. True enough, both of you felt anything the other felt. It was then that Daemon had decided to give in to his playful nature.

That fateful night, you were in a tub full of hot water in your chambers, relaxing after a full day at court, when you felt the first whispers of pleasure blossom low in your belly. Normally you would have enjoyed it, but your husband was nowhere near you. That could only mean that someone else was making him feel this.

Sorrow and despair flooded your mind, a strange contradiction to the pleasure that still roamed your body.

“Why are you sad my love?” came the voice you longed so much to hear from somewhere behind you.

You looked towards the half open door and all the sorrow was sharply replaced by pleasure. There stood your husband, naked as the day he was born, one hand stroking his large erect cock as he gazed at you hungrily.

“I felt your pleasure through our bond and I thought…” you trailed off.

“My love,” he smiled, approaching you slowly, his eyes never leaving you. “You are the only one who can give me pleasure.”

You had spent that night pleasuring each other until the first rays of daylight colored the sky. Now, a few days later, you had decided to teach your husband a lesson, repay his teasing with some of your own.

--

You were sitting in a banquet the king held in honor of Rhaenyra’s coming of age. The room was full of noble men and women eating, drinking to the health of the young heiress, and talking excitedly amongst themselves.

Your husband sat across from you and was currently talking with lord Corlys Velaryon about their shared achievements in the Stepstones. You had the ill fortune to be sitting next to some boring lady from the Westerlands who had been talking about her husband’s wealth and the luxury of their home non-stop. The only good part about it was that the lady barely even paid you any attention; she just kept talking.

You smiled to yourself and set your plan to motion. Making sure your napkin covered your lap properly, you slipped your hand down between your legs, starting to rub your clit discreetly over th4e fabric of your dress.

Daemon turned sharply towards you, his eyes wide. You smirked at him, adding more pressure, gently rocking onto your hand to get more friction.

The lady beside you asked you a question so you turned to talk to her, but your hand never stopped its movements. You could feel your husband’s heated gaze on you, and you did your best to ignore him. Every once in a while you pushed even more on your clit, and you could see from the corner of your eye that your husband had a death grip on his goblet. Any more pressure and it would bend under his hand.

Feeling adventurous, you took your goblet with your free hand and took a sip of wine, staring at Daemon over it. He looked like a wild animal ready to pounce. You adjusted slightly on your seat, the movement sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Across from you, your husband almost choked on his wine.

“Are you alright my love?” you asked, your face the very image of innocence.

“Fine,” Daemon glared at you, taking a deep gulp from his goblet.

“Are you sure? You seem a bit flustered. Did the food not agree with you?” you asked, trying your very best not to snicker.

“Yes my dear, I am quite fine,” he gritted, swallowing thickly. “The food was quite nice, though I think I will have something else to eat, a bit later perhaps.”

His gaze spoke volumes, and the jolt of desire travelled through the bond like thunder, shaking you quite a bit. An image of your dear husband between your legs came to mind, and that very thought was more than enough to rile you up even more.

Daemon felt it as well, his gaze turning even heavier, caressing you like a piece of velvet cloth. You had the greatest urge to jump over the table and sit on his lap, but you contained yourself. This was after all your game, and you had decided to play it to the end.

“Mmm, I think I will try the sausages, they look very juicy,” you merely replied, picking a thick one from the tray to your right. Using both hands, you cut a sizeable piece and put it in your mouth, all the while staring at him.

If his gaze was heated before, now it was hotter than Caraxes’s fire. You let out a satisfied hum, licking your fingers slowly.

“Oh yes, it is wonderful,” you smirked at him, and a new wave of need hit you.

You smiled to yourself, winking at Daemon. This was going to be a fun night.

--

Your back hit the door of your shared chambers as soon as it slammed closed. Your husband pressed his body onto yours, while his lips ravaged yours like a man starved.

“You minx, you tease,” Daemon whispered, his hands making quick work of your dress and smallclothes. His fingers worked in a fever, almost tearing the delicate fabric from your body. You barely registered the cold wind caressing your body. Your own heat, combined with that of your lover’s body pressed up against you was more than enough to keep you warm.

Daemon picked you up, your legs locking up around his waist as you kissed him deeply, your hands buried in his silver hair. You always loved passing your fingers through them. They were like spun silk, delicate and soft, a complete contrast from the rest of his body.

He walked you both to your bed, putting you down before taking off his own clothes as if they were on fire. You sat back, your gaze washing over the god in front of you. There he stood, tall, virile, a warrior in all his might, pale skin glowing in the soft candlelight.  

“You drove me crazy tonight, teasing me in front of all those people,” he growled, diving between your legs.

Pleasure coursed through your veins, hot and sweet, taking over your mind. This special gift the gods had given you was incredible. Feeling everything your mate felt, it was beyond amazing. Your moans echoed all over the room as you closed your eyes, letting your emotions and your mate’s overwhelm you. His talented tongue penetrated your folds easily, diving deep into your core, teasing and making your squirm.

“Daemon,” you moaned, trying to get as close to him as you could.

He held your hips in his strong hands, pinning you on the mattress as he continued feasting on you.

“Please, don’t stop,” you gasped, feeling your peak closing in, fast.

But just as you were about to go over it, your lover pulled away, leaving nothing but an empty feeling.

You raised your head to glare at him, and felt the fury burning through you.

“How does that feel, being unsatisfied?” Daemon asked, that infuriating smirk plastered on his handsome face.

You were no stranger to your husband’s games, but you were in no mood for them tonight.

“Who says I’m going to stay unsatisfied for long?” you smirked back, your hand slipping down your body, nimble fingers caressing your folds, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

Daemon growled at the sight before him, his eyes shining with the fire that always seemed to burn in him. He lunged at you, prying your hands away and pinning them above your head, holding them there.

“Only I get to do that to you,” he growled, impaling you with his cock, going all the way in.

You screamed in ecstasy, the feeling almost enough to bring you to completion. He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size for a bit before he started a punishing pace, pounding into you hard and fast. He kissed you, your tongues battling for dominance as your bodies did their own dance, moving as one, trying to reach that ultimate level of divine connection. Your mind was almost lost, the sensations too much to take for too long.

The coil in your stomach tightened, and Daemon’s movements became wilder, erratic. You both chased your pleasure with everything you had, finally reaching that delicious point of no return. Your screams of ecstasy must have been heard throughout the entire keep, but neither of you cared much for it. You were both too lost in each other to bother with the opinions of others.

Long after you had both managed to calm down from your high, you lay in each other’s arms, Daemon’s fingers drawing patterns on your back, while you laid your head on his chest, listening you his strong heart beating.

“You almost embarrassed me tonight my dear wife,” your lover whispered at you. “Lord Corlys kept asking me why I was so flustered, if I was sick or something.”

You smiled, lifting your head to gaze at his violet eyes.

“Let this be a lesson to you my love, so you won’t tease me the way you did a few days ago.”

That brought a smile on his face.

“You know, I think we have a lot more to learn about this strange bond we share.”

“I am most eager to explore it with you,” you muttered as you reached up to kiss him.

You had no idea how this magic between you worked, but you were more than thankful for it.

--

I hope you guys enjoyed it. Now if you'll excuse me, I need a really cold shower...

#house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #soulmate au #daemon targaryen smut

[vassia-sparta]

Daemon Targaryen fanfic prompt

Am I the only one who wants a story where Daemon sings to his child to get them to sleep in High Valyrian?

My writer's sense is tingling!

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen imagine

[vassia-sparta]

To anyone who says that Daemon Targaryen was heartless because he didn't rush to Rhaenyra's side while she gave birth, use your minds people.

This is a man who lost his second wife because she couldn't give birth to his son and chose to burn herself alive.

Also, for those who have no background info on his parents, his mother Alyssa died six months after a long and difficult labor. His father never recovered from losing her.

Rhaenyra is the love of his life. He lost his child, and was also afraid that he was going to lose her. Stop trying to turn him into a monster he is not.

Nobody said he is perfect, far from it. But at least he is not a sleazy rapist like Aegon, or a cruel bully like Aemond.

#prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd season finale #hotd spoilers

[vassia-sparta]

I felt so inspired by this story, I decided to write my own version of what would happen next. I apologize if Daemon seems a bit OOC, but I am still too emotional from the last episode, and felt the need to have Daemon show his feelings towards his wife.

--

A great feast was organized for the return of your husband, and the entire court seemed to be enjoying themselves as they ate, drank and danced, celebrating the return of the Rogue Prince. You, on the other hand, tried your very best to keep a soft smile on your face, lest the gossipers start their whispers again. Oh, they had been chattering to themselves for a while now, wondering if your husband would choose to lay with his wife now that he had returned, or if he would revert to his old ways and spend his night at one of the pleasure houses of King’s Landing. After all, it was well known how much he had enjoyed spending time down there before your wedding, drinking and sleeping with any woman he chose.

You didn’t know if you wanted that to happen, or not. You thought of all those nights he spent pleasing you before he left for the war, turning you into a mindless creature with only his name on your lips, the way he gazed lovingly at his son when he was born, and a warm feeling filled your chest.

But you also remembered how he had flown off on his dragon at the very mention of war. It was no secret that Daemon Targaryen was a warrior born, but he could have at least said his farewells before he left you and your newborn son.

Your dress suddenly felt too tight, as if it stopped you from taking a breath, so you rose from your seat at the royal table and made your way to a side door that led to the gardens. Maybe some peace and quiet would help clear your mind.

You ended up in the Godswood, taking a seat underneath the grand weirwood tree. You fondly remembered the many times you and Rhaenyra had spent many an hour here, reading stories to Jaehaerys, singing to him, trying to ease the heartache that your husband’s absence had caused.

Now the garden was deserted, everyone enjoying the feast too much to come out here. Just as well, you thought. You took a seat under the weeping tree, gazing up at the night sky. The moon was filling up, and its silver glow illuminated the white branches, giving the tree an otherworldly look. You remembered all those stories about how the First Men believed that the Gods could see everything the mortals did through the faces the Children of the Forest had carved on the barks of the trees. You wondered if that was true in some way, and what those ancient Gods would think if they could see you right now.

They’d probably pity you for the fate that has befallen you.

A shadow moved in the corridor to your right, and for a moment you panicked, thinking that someone was spying on you, or worse. The figure moved forward, and though you felt relieved it was not an intruder, your chest tightened at the sight.

It was your lord husband, magnificent in his black leather doublet, his short hair gleaming in the moonlight.

Anger surged in you, but you tried your best to keep your face expressionless.

“You should be at the feast my lord, it is in your honor after all,” you stated, not caring how cold your voice sounded.

“I saw you leave the hall and was worried you didn’t feel well,” he replied, approaching you slowly.

The sheer audacity of his words made you seethe.

“No need to care about me my lord, I am quite well, just wanted some peace and quiet, that is all,” you replied icily, getting up from your spot. “In fact, I think I shall retire for the night, I feel quite tired.”

“Would you like me to escort you to your chambers?” Daemon offered, a smirk on his face.

“No need to upset your night my lord, I can find my way quite easily. You can return to the feast, I am sure you will find it more entertaining. Good night,” you nodded, turning to leave without another word. To your relief, you didn’t hear him following you.

Of course, you thought, why would he?

--

Daemon remained standing, watching his wife leave the courtyard. He knew that he had been wrong to leave for the Stepstones in such a hurry right after his son was born, but he had reacted purely out of instinct. He was the blood of the dragon and battle called to him. He felt alive every time he rode Caraxes, raining fire on his enemies, or when he drove Dark Sister through a foe’s belly, taking his life.

Yet he could not deny that he felt alive when he lay in bed with his wife, drawing moans of pleasure out of her, making her scream as he drove into her. And he felt most alive when he had held his son in his arms as a newborn babe, and earlier today when the little boy had run into his arms. It was a strange feeling, knowing that he had helped create this little boy, that he was a part of him, his legacy, his future.

Thoughts of his wife’s face when he turned to her in the throne room returned, and an empty feeling filled his chest. He had heard several member of court whispering about her during the feast, and he knew it would not have been easy on her to bear the pain and the scorn every day for three years while he was away fighting in the Stepstones. It was one of the reasons he hated life in court. All those slithering snakes, whispering behind everyone’s backs, so eager to humiliate those above them. He had half a mind to tear out their tongues for their insolence.

Instead, he made his way out of the courtyard and followed his wife. He had a lot to make amends for.

--

You sat down before your vanity mirror, taking a brush through your silver hair. You had dismissed your maids and ladies for the night, wishing to remain alone. You couldn’t stand their pity, even if they meant well. You were a dragon, and dragons were fearless. Tonight you would lick your wounds, and tomorrow you would rise, stronger and without fear, to face all those that would snicker and whisper behind your back.

A soft knock on the door brought you out of your thoughts. You wondered how it could be. For a moment you entertained the idea that it was Daemon, but you cast that thought aside immediately. He would never seek you out, not when there were so many others to entertain him tonight.

“Enter.”

The door opened, revealing your lord husband, who gazed at you with a softness that made your heart ache.

You ignored it and rose from your seat, leaving the brush on the table in front of you.

“My lord, how may I be of service?”

Daemon entered, closing the door softly behind him.

“I was hoping we might speak.”

That took you be surprise. In all the time you had known him, he had never spoken to you so calmly.

“If it isn’t something of importance, I would prefer it if we spoke on the morrow,” you turned away, not trusting yourself not to cry in front of him. “I am very tired and-”

“I came to apologize.”

His words made you freeze where you stood. Had you misheard? Had he really…

You turned to look at him, and he approached you slowly, almost afraid of your reaction.

“I left for the Stepstones without telling you, and so soon after our son was born. It was wrong of me to do so, and I wish to make amends.”

You had no idea what to say. This was a side of Daemon you had never seen before.

“I know life was not easy after what I did-”

“No,” you spat, “you don’t.”

He looked up at you, surprised.

“You have no idea what it was like to walk the halls of this castle every day, having to listen to everyone whispering behind my back about how you abandoned me, how you preferred the fire of the battle to the warmth of your wife’s arms. Do you know how they looked at Jaehaerys, how they pitied him? The poor princeling, left in his mother’s arms while his father waged war against pirates.”

“I had to go, the Crabfeeder was destroying ship after ship, taking their cargo and nailing the sailors on the shallows to be devoured by the crabs.”

“You could have said goodbye before you left!” you yelled, the dam that had been holding your anger shattering at the sound of his words. “You could have sent a message. Do you think it was easy for me to sit here, raising our son, now knowing if I would ever see you again? I feared every raven that flew in with news from the Stepstones, praying that it didn’t bring word of your death. You may not love me Daemon, but I grew to care for you-”

“I do love you.”

His words erased all thoughts of your mind. You looked at him, half believing that what you had heard had been something you had imagined.

He approached you, taking your hands in his.

“I love you, more than you think. But you must understand that all this is new to me. My first marriage, I didn’t choose my bride, and I could never bring myself to care for her, I didn’t want to. It was a cage for me, that marriage. I begged Viserys to annul it, to free me from her, but he didn’t listen to me for years. I hated the very idea of being tied forever to a woman who would never truly care for me, so I stayed away from her, finding peace in the training of my men, in the arms of all those women I bedded and the many goblets of wine I consumed. And, when Viserys finally freed me from my marriage, I was beyond happy with my freedom. My brother didn’t realize I wanted to choose my new wife, so he chose you for me.”

You turned away, feeling the hot pain tear at your chest again. You knew your marriage had been a political one, but you had hoped to make your husband love you, even a bit. You should have known better than to think you could change the Rogue Prince.

“You are free to do what you want,” you whispered, barely holding yourself no your feet. “You have a lawful child and heir now, no need to force yourself to be by my side. You can bed any woman you like. I only ask that you are somewhat discreet.”

“I don’t want to,” your husband whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder, his arms gently encasing you, coming to rest on your belly. “Though I was furious at first with my brother, I grew to like you. You are much prettier than my first wife, and you are the blood of the dragon. You understand the fire coursing through our veins better than any other woman would, and you cared for me, truly.”

He placed a feathery kiss on the crook of your neck, sending shivers all over your body.

“I lusted for you, I wanted you in my bed. I craved those nights we lay together, pleasuring each other until the crack of dawn. And then your belly grew with our boy, and new feelings filled me, feelings that terrified me. You know how my mother died, after giving birth to my baby brother Aegon. Father was never the same after she died, a shadow of himself. I was terrified that, if I let myself love you, I would suffer like he did, if something ever happened to you. I left after Jaehaerys was born because I could not go through what he did. I dove into the battle, the only thing that made me forget my pain. I didn’t dare send word back to King’s Landing, fearing that I would hear of your death.”

Something hot dropped on your shoulder, and you saw the clear liquid trailing down your skin. You could not believe it. Daemon, the fierce prince, the fearless dragonrider, was crying.

You turned to face him, gazing on his handsome face. Tears marked his cheeks, his violet eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

“I am not dead,” you whispered, taking his face in your hands. “I am right here, alive, and will remain until my old age. You have nothing to fear of my lord.”

You kissed him softly, all the anger and pain gone, a faint memory soon to be forgotten. He pulled you in his arms, his hold on you tight. He poured all his emotions, all his pain into that one kiss, as did you. It left you both breathless, and you broke off a while later, gasping for breath. You stood there, unmoving, his forehead touching yours, your quiet breaths the only sound in the room.

You kissed him once more, this time more passionately, a new need awakening in you. He must have felt the same, for he responded with as much passion as you did.

That night, you lay with your husband, the fierce Rogue Prince, not stopping your couplings until the first rays of sunlight showed in the east. After you had both sated your cravings, you lay in his arms, listening to his strong heart beating in his chest, his hand drawing idle circles on your back.

You didn’t speak; there was no reason to do so. You both knew you had forgiven him, and that the past would remain forgotten.

The next days, the gossipers at court watched from the shadows as you both sat with your son under the weirwood tree, a family finally complete. The Rogue Prince had finally found someone to tame him.

dragon blood

Pairing: daemon targaryen x reader

summary: daemon doesn’t often love, and when he does he deals with it in the worse ways possible

a/n: ik i don’t write things with reader bring preggy and kids because the very thought of it disgusts me, but seeing as the story is set in the game of thrones universe i doubt any woman can refuse to have children especially if they are highborn.

Daemon loves many things. He loves his girls down in Flea Bottom where every whore would approach him like flies to honey at the sight of his white hair for a chance to sleep with a Valyrian prince. He loves his role as the commander of the City Watch and his gold cloaks who are loyal to his demands, he loves the violence, the blood that slicks his hand red when he slits the throat of a criminal or the painful look of a rapist’s face when he cuts his cock off. Daemon loves war, this war for the Stepstones is something he has craved for a long time. The weariness of it, the frustration, the battles and the sword fights- Daemon loves every bit of it.

Daemon loves his ancestry, his Dark Sister who fights with him in every battle, his Caraxes, his pride and joy, whom he rides on to war like a god as cold wind wooshes through his hair in the sky. Daemon also loves his brother, despite popular belief. Viserys who was there from the start, a peacemaker to his violence, someone soft to Daemon’s harsh lines. Viserys, who Daemon bends every rule and law for his attention. Viserys just makes it so…hard to love him sometimes.

Viserys has also given Daemon a wife, who he does not love.

Viserys did not realize that Daemon wanted to choose his wife, not to be given another as soon as his previous marriage was annulled. He does not love his wife, but the Lady Y/N Targaryen is far easier to look at than his old bronze bitch. They both have the blood of the dragon in their veins, strumming chaos and fire in their blood, making it enjoyable to bed her. And so Daemon did, over and over again, until her screams rang across the Red Keep, eating his lovely Targaryen wife until she fainted but even then Daemon did not stop- until her peaks were just short shivers, until she was heaving heavily with no thoughts in her head but his name.

Daemon likes the way the court averts their eyes every time he sees his wife, yanking in her hair to expose her neck to him. He likes the way her neck feels in his hands, so soft and delicate, but he likes the sultry gaze Y/N Targaryen gives him more.

There was only one moment where the thought of loving his wife came up in his mind was when he had held his son in his arms, still freshly birthed and red from blood. “Jaehaerys,” she whispered, taking his attention away from the babe to her. “A name of a great king to a great babe.

Daemon merely nodded and drunk in the sight of her. Y/N’s cheeks have sunken and eyes have darkened after long hours of labor. Her hair was tied to her back by a handmaiden in the middle of her labor but some strands had managed to escape. She was wearing nothing but loose robes with no jewelry on her neck or hair, a far cry from the the Lady Y/N Targaryen of the Viserys’ court. Daemon had never seen her so beautiful. And now, she had given him his son.

Before he could even stop himself, Daemon leaned over and pressed a kiss on her sweaty forehead. “Thank you.”

Y/N have him a surprised look.

Perhaps this was it. Perhaps he could stay here, in Dragonstone, with his wife and Jaehaerys without a thought of the world. Perhaps he could love her as he already loves his son. Kings Landing could die and he would not care, but…

Second sons must make a name for themselves, Daemon’s head echoes the words of Corlys Velaryon upon his summons at Driftmark.

Daemon gives Jaehaerys one last kiss before giving him back to his mother. He had ridden Caraxes to the Stepstones by sundown.

-

You had barely even finished your fast when you were suddenly rushed by your handmaidens to dress quickly. “The King has called for an audience, Princess,” said Mhyra, gently guiding you to your vanity as you sit down before it.

Alys, your other handmadien, scurried to you from your closet with a red and black dress in hand. Your eyes squinted on her bold dress of choice. It was one of your ‘strong’ dresses that boasts your house with two dragons on your shoulders while rubies are bejeweled to the embroidered third dragon on the back. “Audience for what?” You asked.

Behind you, more of your ladies in waiting scurry around in a flurry. “Get the Price Jaehaerys!”

You turn at the mention of the prince, watching as three of Jaehaerys’ maids walk briskly out of your chambers. “Wha- what is happening?”

“Prince Daemon has returned with victory from the Stepstones, my lady.” Mhyra answers, as you immediately tense.

You almost fail to hide your displeased grimace.

Within minutes you are dressed in your best dress directly below the Iron Throne as is your right. You watch as the Kings Guard fill Viserys’s court first, then sworn shields, then the lords and ladies of Kings Landing flock to the hall until it was full. Chatter and whispers fill up the hall of the Iron Throne with rumors of Daemon’s victory, Daemon’s defeat, or god forbid- Daemon’s rebellion from the Iron Throne.

From the corner of your eye, you spot Rhaenyra’s platinum head among the chatty crowds. You give her a questioning raise of your eyebrow as she should have been in Dragonstone while she sheepishly smiles in response.

Silence holds the room immediately as Daemon finally walks through the halls. He walks slowly, taking his time like he was strolling through a garden. He is still arogant, it seems. Though the crowd wa already split into two, you think that Daemon was like a shark swimming through schools of fish as the crowds take a step back when he passes by as he walks towards the throne.

The first thing you notice him was he was wearing a crown of white bark held together by a dark strings. You raise your head up to the Iron Throne and almost immediately, Viserys’s purple eyes return your worried gaze.

You turn your head back to the exiled prince. The second thing you notice- his hair. Gone was his flowing white locks of hair that passed by his shoulders. His hair was now sheared short that ends before his nape. He looks as handsome as ever.

Before he can take another step towards the Iron Throne, Daemon is stopped by a sword. The crowd hold their breath as Daemon raises his own sword to the King before dropping it to the ground. “Add it to the chair.”

The sword echoes as it falls to the ground.

“You wear a crown,” starts Viserys, looking down at Daemon with the legendary sword of Aegon the Conquerer rests sheathed on his hands. “You also call yourself king.”

“Once we smashed the triarchy, they named me King of the Narrow Sea,” Daemon shrugs in explanation. A wave of tense anticipation rolls to the shores of Viserys’s court. You do not fail to see the Kingsguard slowly grasp their sheathed swords. Beside you, your own sword shield has moved from your side to your front, ready to defend you if chaos arrives.

You do not blame them, as you yourself had already calculated an escape plan. You would hand Prince Jaehaerys to your shield, and run towards fastest way to the dragonpit to mount your dragon. Lords and ladies flicker their gazes back and forth to the King and his brother, waiting in anticipation of his next words. Would this be a surrender or Daemon’s rebellion?

“But I know that there is only one true King, your Grace,” Daemon’s words were sweet as honey as he kneels in genuflect infront of his brother. Viserys turns to his Otto Hightower in silent contemplation, then he turns his gaze to you.

Viserys cranes his neck to the crowd as he searches for his former Master of Ships. “Where is Lord Corlys?”

“He sailed home to Driftmark.” Answers Daemon, still on his knees.

“Who holds the Stepstones?”

“The tides, the crabs, and 2000 triarchy corpses stakes to the sand to warn those who might follow.”

Viserys descends down the steps of the Iron Throne and takes Daemon’s wooden crown. He looks at it in discontent before passing it to one of his Kingsguard, as it pales in comparison to his own crown and all the riches House Targaryen has to offer. “Rise.”

Viserys holds a hand to Daemon’s shoulder as a fond look appears on his face. As if he was weak to his brother’s touch, Daemon’s head immediately falls to Viserys’s shoulders.

The court finally breathes free as a thundering applause echoes across the hall. Any rumors of Daemon’s rebellion has now faded away to praises of ‘King Viserys’s mercy’ and the brothers’ love for one another.

But the clapping soon faded as soon as Daemon soon removed himself from Viserys’ loving embrace to face you.

“My lady,” he starts, and the crowd goes silent again. “I have won the war at the Stepstones for you and out King.” Daemon walks to with a smile that you can’t decide is charming or apologetic. Your face is stone as you remember how Daemon left so abruptly, the ladies that whisper at your back in court, the pitying stares Jaehaerys gets when he walks down the halls of the Red Keep.

You see Daemon’s eyes pan to you, then down to your dress to look at the boy who looks so much like his father, who has been clutching your skirts like it was a shield. For a moment, you see Daemon soften infront of his son like he did three years ago when he held him first.

“And who might this little prince be?” He breathes so reverently that you have never heard Daemon sound so gentle before. There was no question as to who the father was. Jaehaerys’s Valyrian looks hav attested to that. Jae’s tiny fists curl tighter around your dress as Daemon kneels infront of him.

“I’m Jaehaerys,” came the little voice from behind your skirts. Normally, Jae would be a cheerful child, a far cry from the shy on that Daemon sees now. Jae is a ball of restless energy, eager to please and talk. But this stranger is someone else.

“And do you know who I am, little Jaehaerys?” Daemon’s head tilt at the child.

Immediately, you regret telling your decision to tell Jaehaerys’ stories of Daemon- of his brave acts in battle, and how he is strong as he is brave. You remember his sad words as Jae asks why Daemon isn’t here when his Aunt Rhaenyra’s father is with her like how his cousins Laena and Laenor has Lord Corlys by their side. You regret telling him that he has sadly left to defend the realm when in reality he had left Jaehaerys as soon as he was born at the first mention of a war.

“You’re my father.” Jae answers bravely. “Isn’t that right, mother?” Your hand instinctively moves to rest on Jae’s head as he looks up to you in confirmation. You look down at Jaehaerys’s purple eyes that looks at you to innocently, but you also feel the gaze of hundreds of people at court.

A nod from you was all it took before a wide smile appeared on his face. His shyness was tripped away as he let go of your skirts and jumped to Daemon’s arms with no fear. Applause filled the room again as the court adored the sight of a loving father-son reunion, paying the scorned wife no mind.

if you like this, check out my masterlist!! as always, please don't hesitate to leave your throughts through comments. they keep me going :))

#daemon imagine #prince daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #daemon targaryen imagine

[vassia-sparta]

My love for Sarah Reese and Connor Rhodes knows no bounds and I will ship them forever. Even if it’s just in my head.  Reblog if you agree.

[vassia-sparta]

The Green-eyed monster is released

Dr. Connor Rhodes and Dr. Kate Karson (OC) have been friends since they first met on Connor's first day back in Chicago, but never felt brave enough to reveal their true feelings to one another. When Dr. James Lanik taunts Connor about his relationship with Kate, will our beloved Cardio resident step up and claim what he wants?

(Gifs not mine, I found them on Tumblr and inspiration hit me. I own nothing but my OC Dr. Kate Karson and the plot. )

Kate POV

Another day, another shift. I walked through the familiar doors of Gaffney Medical Center’s Emergency Department, letting my eyes scan the entire room. We were relatively empty today, so things looked to be going slow.

“Hey Maggie, how are we looking today?” I greeted the head nurse and friend of mine as I walked up to her office.

“We’ve only had two incoming so far today, so things look really calm.”

“I hope that lasts,” I nodded, making my way towards the doctor’s lounge to leave my bag and coat and prepare for my shift. On my way there, I spotted Connor talking to Dr. Lanik right by the lounge, and Connor looked ready to punch him. Then again, Dr. Lanik always had that effect on people. I had yet to meet anyone who didn’t feel like beating the hell out of him after spending five minutes in his presence.

“Good morning gentlemen, how are you doing today?” I smiled, keeping my gaze on my friend.

“Hey Kate, just fine,” Connor smiled at me.

“Better now that you are here Dr. Karson,” Dr. Lanik smirked, and I tried really hard not to roll my eyes at him. Everyone knew that Dr. Lanik was a flirt, and a bad flirt too. He used the cheesiest lines any woman had ever heard, and he tried them on any woman he deemed worthy of him, doctors and nurses included.

I ignored him and went to my locker to put my things away. As I closed my locker and pulled on my stethoscope, I heard the ambulance sirens closing in.

“So much for a calm day,” I sighed, running out to tend to whoever had come to our door.

Connor POV

I was trying to explain to Dr. Lanik about the extra supplies we had to order for the hybrid OR when Kate arrived, all smiles and joyful energy. Seeing her there gave me the courage to withstand our idiotic Head of Trauma for a few more minutes.

And just as I was about to get away from him, he just HAD to go and piss me off even more.

“You two a thing?”

I paused, not sure I had heard correctly. Had he actually asked me that?

“What’s it to you?” I responded to his question, feeling prote4ctive of my friend.

“Give me a heads up when she dumps you,” he smiled that smug smile of his before he walked away, leaving me a lifeless statue.

One sentence and all the good vibes I had in me flew away. Did this idiot enjoy sucking the life out of everyone around him, leaving them miserable and grumpy?

I only realized I had left my mind drifting on what was the best way to kill that idiot without getting caught, when Will came up next to me and nudged me, bringing me out of my troubled thoughts.

“Hey, earth to Connor, are you there?”

I shook my head to clear it, a frown slipping on my face.

“Yeah, just great,” I grumbled, trying once more to focus on the charts of my patients. Honestly, it was like I was trying to read in a foreign language, I was so upset.

“What happened man, what did Lanik say that made you so mad? If looks could kill, you’d have murdered him three times over by now,” my friend chuckled.

“He actually asked me to let him know when Kate dumps me,” I scoffed, the urge to punch the insufferable idiot growing as I thought about him getting anywhere near her.

“But I thought you and Kate are just friends, or at least that is what you both keep on insisting.”

“We are Will, it’s the idea of Lanik even thinking he is worthy of Kate that bothers me,” I defended.

“Well, you never know. She might actually like him,” Will shrugged.

I turned to glare at the red-haired doctor, suddenly having the urge to punch him too.

“Seriously Will, Kate with Lanik?”

“Like I said, you never know. He might have hidden talents,” my friend wiggled his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes at him, the very idea so surreal, it might as well be part of a fantasy movie.

“The Kate that I know would get sick to the very idea of Lanik even touching her.”

“Well, you know Kate as your friend, not as a woman. Who knows, she might actually like him. After all, it’s none of your business who she dates. It’s not like you have a romantic interest in her, right?” the former plastic surgeon asked pointedly.

“We’ve been through this a hundred times Will, and the answer is still no,” I pointed out.

“Okay then, let Lanik try his luck, he and Kate might be good together,” Will shrugged as he walked away, leaving me to fume on my own. I guess Nat had hit him on the head last night, there was no other explanation for his ridiculous suggestions.

____________

Around midday, I finally took a break from my patients and tried to track down Kate, hoping she had a few minutes to spare and have lunch with me.

I looked around the ED and the surgery floor, but there was no sign of her.

“Hey Maggie, have you seen Kate?” I asked when I reached the nurses’ desk.

“Yeah, she went to the cafeteria about 10 minutes ago, Dr. Lanik asked her to have lunch together.”

I paused, not sure if our head nurse was playing tricks on me.

“Maggie, Kate and I are just friends,” I reminded her.

“Ah ok, ‘cause I think Kate might actually like Dr. Lanik,” our head nurse shrugged, and I felt as if a bucket of cold water was dropped on me.

“I don’t really have a say in it Maggie; Kate is a grown woman, she is free to do whatever she wants,” I shrugged.

“And whoever she wants,” Maggie added.

I walked away, choosing not to answer to Maggie’s teasing. All of our friends enjoyed teasing both me and Kate that we liked each other more than friends, and every time we laughed it off. I wasn’t about to rise to Maggie’s taunting, not after hiding my true feelings for so long.

_____________

Kate POV

“Nat, what you’re suggesting is completely idiotic, I can’t do that!”

“But it’s the only way to find out if Connor really wants you. We have to make him jealous to see if he reacts, and Lanik is the perfect candidate!”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair in frustration. For the past half hour, Natalie and April had been trying to convince me to accept going out with Dr. Lanik, only to see if Connor would get jealous and do something about it. But they were forgetting one crucial part: Connor was already in a relationship with Ava Bekker, his colleague and rival in the Cardio department.

“Nat, Connor sees me only as a friend, and I’m happy with that. Can’t we leave it at that and focus on something more pleasant?”

“If he sees you only as a friend, then why is he freaking out every time a cute guy speaks to you? Do you remember how he reacted when you and Kelly Severide went out to dinner?” April pointed out.

“That was because he was worried Kelly might break my heart. Everyone knows he’s a womanizer. And in any case, Kelly and I never had anything.”

“And yet, whenever Kelly comes in to talk to you, I see Connor glaring at him, even if he’s trying to be all stealthy about it,” Nat commented. “To me, that sounds like he’s got a crush, and a big one at that.”

“You’re imagining things girls, there’s nothing there.”

“Then why did he freak out today when Lanik asked him to notify him when you were available?” Nat questioned, raising her eyebrow as she stared me down.

“What?” I turned to Nat.

“When you came in today, Lanik was with Connor-”

“Yeah I remember, I greeted them both,” I nodded.

“Right. And when you passed by, Lanik asked Connor if you two are a thing,” April offered.

“That’s right, and when Connor didn’t reply, Lanik merely asked for Connor to let him know when you dumped him,” Nat added.

“Great story girls, you two should be writing scenarios for soap operas,” I rolled my eyes at them.

“They’re right, I heard it too,” Maggie jumped in, making me groan.

“Come on Mags, I thought you were more mature than our two little matchmakers here.”

“I’m just saying I saw him fuming when Lanik leered at you,” our head nurse shrugged.

“Well of course he would, he’s my friend and he cares about me. It doesn’t mean he’s got a crush on me. And you all seem to forget that he’s dating Ava Bekker.”

“They’re not, at least not anymore,” April shook her head. “He’s been avoiding her for the past few weeks.”

“That he has, Doris can confirm it.”

“Ah okay, if the head gossiper of the hospital can confirm it, then it’s okay,” I scoffed.

“Never doubt the observant eyes of the nurses,” Maggie poked her finger at me.

“I don’t, but not on every occasion,” I shook my head.

“Then why not try this, see if we are right?” April challenged.

I sighed in defeat, seeing how I would never get away from them.

“Okay, I will,” I nodded, accepting my fate. “I’m going to flirt with Lanik to see if Connor will react. But when he doesn’t-”

“He will,” Nat hurried to reassure me.

“Alright, IF he doesn’t,” I looked at all three of them, “you guys must never bring up this subject again, understood?”

“Okay,” April nodded, as did Nat. Maggie just shrugged.

“Alright, how do we do this?” I asked my friends.

“I have a plan,” Maggie smiled, gathering us all close to her.

_______________

Around midday, I decided to put the girls’ plan to work. Since it was the time that most people went to get something to eat, chances were Lanik would be there, Connor as well. Although I had to admit this was definitely immoral, it was a great way to clear the air and perhaps help me get some closure over my crush on Connor, maybe even move on with my life (definitely not with Lanik though).

I had fallen for Connor without even realizing it, however cliché that sounded. From the first day he came in, riding on the gurney doing chest compressions on that man, he had managed to leave his mark on everyone, one way or another. It had nothing to do with his good looks or the money he had from his family; it was his drive, the passion he had every time he tried to save a patient. He gave his everything into being a doctor and did whatever he could to save a life, even if it got him into trouble sometimes. He wasn’t perfect, not by a longshot, but to me, he was.

With renewed resolve I walked up to the nurses’ station and left the last of my notes, noticing that Dr. Lanik was within earshot.

“Maggie, I’m going to get something to eat, if anyone needs me I’ll be in the cafeteria.”

“You got it Dr. Karson,” Maggie nodded, winking at me when Dr. Lanik wasn’t watching.

I kept my cool and walked to the double doors that led to the food area. The place was filling quickly so I made my way to the line, greeting friends and colleagues as I did. I picked up my lunch and, just as I was about to pay for it, a voice interrupted me.

“I’ll get that.”

I turned and found Dr. Lanik standing behind me, a supposedly seductive smile on his face.

“Oh, there’s no need for that Dr. Lanik,” I tried to stop him, but he shook his head before I could finish my sentence.

“It’s my pleasure. I do ask that you sit with me though.”

“Of course, lead the way,” I nodded, feeling so disgusted with myself. Focus on the outcome, it’s not like you’re gonna have to kiss this moron I thought, and took some comfort from that.

He paid for both our lunches and led me to one of the tables near the windows that overlooked the small park next to the hospital. I sat with my back towards the door, so I wouldn’t be affected if I saw Connor coming in. I had to remain focused on Lanik, seduce him in the most discreet way. I was sure the nurses that were taking their lunch right now had their eyes and ears focused on any possible gossip source, and I was not going to taint my reputation by acting all flirty towards my boss. The gossip mills had long memories around here, and it took a lot of effort to get rid of the label they’d stick on you.

“You know, it has been so long that I’ve wanted to have lunch with you Dr. Karson,” Dr. Lanik started, that ever-present smirk of his making me wanna punch him right on the nose. I held myself back though, hoping to hit two birds with one stone and maybe put this little turd in his proper place as well as figuring out if Connor had any romantic feelings for me.

“It’s Kate, and why didn’t you just ask me Dr. Lanik?”

“It’s James, and I thought you were involved with Dr. Rhodes,” the idiot shrugged, picking at his pasta. “I didn’t want to invade foreign waters.”

“Connor and I are just friends, he’s with Dr. Bekker,” I shook my head, smiling at my idiotic boss.

“That may be, but he sure is protective of you.”

“Aren’t all friends protective of each other?” I shrugged. “Besides, he’s probably like that because he saw what I was like after my last relationship.”

“What happened?”

“Let’s just say that the guy enjoyed having several ladies to please him at the same time while pretending he wanted to marry me.”

“He was an idiot then, having a lovely lady like you and trying to hook up with others. If I had a girl like you, I would never let her go,” he winked at me, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“Well, he’s history, so let’s not focus on him, he’s not even worth talking about. How about you James, you got anyone in your life right now?” I smiled softly, hoping he took this as flirting.

“Nope, my busy work schedule won’t give me much time. Not to mention it’s difficult to date anyone who cannot understand the kind of pressure we are under.”

“Indeed, it’s very challenging for anyone who has not been through a typical day in the ED to understand why sometimes we have to stay here late, or why we have to answer a call in the middle of the night. Literal lives are at stake, and it’s up to us to save them.��

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we cannot enjoy the finer things in life. After all,” he smiled that disgusting smile of his, “we have earned it.”

“We certainly have,” I agreed, smiling back.

I noticed a figure in black scrubs moving towards us, and got ready for the big showdown.

“Dr. Karson, make I speak with you for a moment?” Connor asked, his eyes focused on me, shining with anger.

“Oh, hey Connor,” I smiled at my friend. “Sorry, I’m having a conversation with James, is it an emergency?”

Connor seemed taken aback that I had used Lanik’s first name, and I even caught a glimpse of the idiot’s face. He was smug, smiling such a big smile that it was a wonder it didn’t hurt his face.

Connor kept staring at me, his lips pressed so thin they were barely visible.

“No, it’s fine, no need to interrupt your lunch. I’ll see you later,” my friend growled, then turned and left without even saying goodbye.

Though I wanted to jump up and down, I kept my composure and turned to smile at Lanik once more.

“What got into him?” I shrugged, giggling a bit.

“He’s probably jealous that you preferred to stay here with me,” Lanik smirked, and I forced myself to chuckle.

“Well, it would be rude to just get up and leave, after all we’re having a conversation, aren’t we?”

“Oh yes,” the idiot leaned closer to me, “we certainly do.”

A shrill noise came from his coat pocket, making us both jump.

Saved by the bell, literally, I thought.

He pulled the pager from his pocket and checked it, cursing under his tongue.

“It’s an emergency, they need me upstairs in the OR. I’m sorry I have to leave you like this.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” I nodded. “We can continue another time,” I smiled the sweetest smile I could, feeling sick that I stooped that low. It’s for a greater cause, suck it up, I scolded myself.

“We definitely will,” Dr. Lanik smiled before he rushed off to whoever had been calling him.

As soon as he was out of sight I leaned back on my chair, taking a few deep breaths to calm my erratic heartbeat. A smile formed on my lips. The plan had worked. Connor had shown interest. Now it was time to move even further, see how he would react.

________

The next few days I pushed the plan even more, spending more time with Dr. Lanik any chance I got, either having lunch with him, consulting him on various cases, or even discussing some changes that could be done around the ED. He barely even realized it when I convinced him about getting an additional vending machine for the waiting room. Maggie said it was only a matter of time before I made him my slave.

Connor, on the other hand, was getting angrier every time he saw me with Lanik. He barely spoke to me, and even then it was only for a case. Nat and April were certain that he was about to cave in. I, on the other hand, had a different opinion.

I had seen how Dr. Bekker had noticed our drifting apart, and had wasted no time in slipping in the space that was left. The two of them had been seen leaving together every night, and last night I saw Ava smirking at me when she and Connor left, his arm entwined with hers.

This morning though, when I saw them arrive together, was the final straw. I walked up to Maggie and April, already feeling tired despite sleeping for a full night.

“I’m pulling the plug on the plan,” I announced, and they both looked up at me sharply.

“We are about to hit the jackpot and now you’re getting cold feet?” April sighed, exasperated.

“Well it’s not about my cold feet, it’s about how warm Dr. Bekker’s feet got last night. I saw her and Connor leave together yesterday, and this morning they arrived together, in Connor’s car. I think it’s safe to say the whole jealousy plan pushed him in her waiting arms.”

“You don’t know that,” Maggie argued. “Maybe he’s doing her a favor, maybe her car broke down.”

“Yeah, he’s doing her a favor alright,” I sighed. “The point is, I was right all along. Connor is not interested in me, at least not in a romantic way.”

“Then why is he so upset over you hanging around with Lanik for the past few days?”

“Because he is my friend and is worried over me being around an absolute moron,” I shrugged at them.

“Girl you are either too blind to see how he stares at you or too stubborn to admit it,” Maggie huffed, her eyes shining.

“I am neither blind nor stubborn, in fact I think it’s the first time in a while I’ve been clear-headed about this. The plan is off, I’m putting an end to it as soon as possible.”

“Just one more day, will that hurt you?”

“Probably,” I nodded at April. “Lanik is all hot and bothered, and I can only push him away and try to keep him close at the same time for so long. He’s going to want more, and I’d rather die than give in to him.”

“One day,” Maggie insisted. “If nothing happens today, we’ll find you some way to dump Lanik without getting you in trouble with him.”

“Okay, but just one day, and not a moment more,” I looked pointedly at them.

_______________

Around midday, I was making my way down the corridors towards a patient’s room when I caught sight of Dr. Lanik making his way to me, all smiles and a smugness in his step that made me want to punch him. I braced myself, hoping to end all this quickly and painlessly before things got out of hand.

“Hello Kate, shall we go to lunch, I’m kind of famished.”

“I actually have to go check on two more patients, but I’ll meet you down there,” I smiled at him, then walked away before he could answer.

After I finished with my patients I made my way to the cafeteria, pausing when I saw Connor sitting on a table with Ava, her touching his hand as they ate.

I pretended not to see them and made my way to the line, picked up a salad and walked to where Dr. Lanik was sitting. His face lit up when he saw me, and he pulled his tray to make space for me.

“Thank goodness, I thought you had forgotten about me,” he said teasingly.

“If I start forgetting things like that it means I’m in serious trouble,” I chuckled as I sat across from him.

“So,” he spoke, leaning a bit closer to me, “I was wondering if we could go for drinks tonight after the shift. You get off at 9, right?”

I paused, giving myself some time to swallow my bite before I replied.

“Sure, that sounds great. Shall we meet at Molly’s?”

“No, that place is way too casual for my taste,” he shook his head, his face scrunching. “I was thinking more of that bar on Arlington, it opened up a few weeks ago and it’s said to be great. Upscale, clean, and with a great crowd.”

“I’ve never gone there, but okay, doesn’t hurt to go to new places,” I shrugged.

“Awesome. Want me to pick you up from your place?”

I panicked, but got a hold of myself quickly enough.

“No need to bother, we can meet there. Say, around 10?”

“Great,” he smiled a smug smile, taking a sip of his Coke.

We continued the rest of the meal chatting about various things, mostly the gossip he heard from the nurses, and his obsession about getting the board to agree with his opinions. I got a headache from how self-centered he was. Did he think of anyone else but himself?

I returned to the ED just as we got the call for two car crashes with several victims. That kept us busy for the rest of the afternoon, three of them going into surgery to control the internal bleeding and set broken bones.

By the time I was done with the last surgery, it was 5 in the afternoon. I made my way to the room adjacent to the operating theater to clean up and get out of my sterile clothes. As I pulled off the surgery gown, Connor entered the room, still in his own surgery gown.

“How did it go with the woman?” I asked as he pulled off his gown and set out to wash his hands.

“She made it through. It was kind of tricky controlling the bleed, but we managed to save her spleen.”

“Good,” I nodded. “Her husband had three broken ribs and an internal bleed in the liver, but we managed to fix it just in time. I expect he’ll make a full recovery as well.”

“Wonderful,” Connor replied, not even glancing at me.

“Okay, what is it with you these past few days?” I huffed, feeling tired with all the silence and the way he had been ignoring me.

“What do you mean?” my friend asked, still very intent on his hands.

“You avoid me, you barely even talk to me let alone look at me. Did I do something to offend you?”

“No, I just thought you were too busy hanging out with Lanik. Word around the hospital is that you two are an item now. And here I thought you hated his guts.”

“We just talk Connor, there’s nothing going on between us.”

“Oh, you just talk, is that why he has that leering smile every time he sees you, or why he stares at your ass every time you walk past him?”

“He’s not doing that, and besides, why do you even care? I might as well ask you about Ava,” I threw back at him.

“What about Ava?” he turned to look at me.

“Well, word around the hospital is that you are back together again.”

“Well, we’re not,” he shook his head. “Can you say the same thing about you and Lanik?”

“I just told you that there’s nothing between us, and what’s it to you anyway?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Good, glad we cleared that up,” I huffed, walking out of the room.

My dignity was the only thing that kept me from stomping down the corridor like a spoiled child. I didn’t need to give more gossip for the nurses to talk about.

Before I could reach the corner however, I felt a strong arm pulling me into one of the hospital supplies rooms. I was ready to start yelling, but paused when I saw it was only Connor.

“What is it this time Connor?” I sighed, but barely got the words out before Connor pushed me against the closed door, his lips smashing against mine.

It was a hot and demanding kiss, all passion and fire. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me as he licked my lower lip. I gasped at the sensation, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in my mouth, deepening the kiss. I moaned into his mouth, so turned on by the feel of his body pressed so closely against mine. I could feel every muscle, every ridge, all the strength that he had in him. My senses were on overload, trying to take in every touch, every sound, everything of him.

We broke the kiss, both out of breath. He didn’t waste any time though and latched onto my neck, peppering it with soft kisses. I closed my eyes, letting his touch consume me. His lips burned a fiery trail all the way down to my cleavage before returning to my mouth, this time kissing me with even more passion, if that was even possible. I swear, an earthquake could happen right now, and I wouldn’t even notice it. I felt his hands reach down to my legs and I jumped, wrapping them around his waist, feeling him pressing against the door even harder. I had no doubt that if by chance anyone walked by, they would definitely hear us.

Connor broke the kiss and pulled back a bit, staring deep into my eyes with those gorgeous blue orbs of his, his gaze so intense it took my breath away.

“Do you have any idea how long I have wanted to do this?”

“Probably as long as I wanted to do it,” I smirked at him, pulling him for another kiss.

He groaned, his hips pressing into me. I could feel him, hard and ready between my legs, and the fire in me burned even righter. I wanted so much to just peel away our clothes and have him right here, not even caring if anyone heard us, but I knew the danger of getting caught would never let me enjoy it as much as I wanted.

The higher powers must have heard my thoughts, because the room filled with the shrilling sound of our pagers.

“I’m going to murder the inventor of these hellish things,” Connor growled, putting me down reluctantly.

“And I’ll help you, but right now we need to be saving lives, not taking them,” I chuckled, fixing my ruffled clothes a bit before I checked my pager. We had multiple victims coming in, GSWs from some gang war.

“You know this isn’t over, right?” Connor stopped me before I could turn to open the door.

“Oh, it’s far from over, as long as you make sure Ava understands that you are no longer available to her,” I pointed out.

“When are you going to learn not to listen to what the nurses always blab about? Ava’s car broke down a few days, and I offered to drive her home and to work until it’s fixed, nothing more.”

“And what are the odds she planned this?”

“Very high, but I think seeing us leaving together tonight will put it in her head that I belong to someone else. What are you going to do about Lanik? You’re supposed to go out with him tonight, if my sources are correct.”

“I’ll make up some excuse,” I shrugged. “After all, I never promised anything would happen between us. I’m not worried though, he’ll find another victim to drool over.”

“He’s had his eye on you for a while, he even asked me if we were a thing, and to let him know when you dumped me.”

“Ah, so I guess the girls were right about that,” I chuckled. One of the few times the gossip mill was truthful about a rumor. “Well, he’s going to be waiting a long time, about an eternity I think, perhaps more,” I smiled, pulling him for another kiss.

He kissed me deeply, making my head spin for a moment before I returned back to earth.

“Come on, they need us downstairs,” I sighed, trying to cool my body and my mind down. “We can continue this later tonight. My place or yours?”

“I don’t care, as long as we get there as fast as we can. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off of you for long.”

“Game face on Dr. Rhodes,” I caressed his cheek. “Let’s go save some lives, and then we can spend the night doing oh so many things.”

“Oh, we will, I’ll make sure of that,” he smiled back, giving me one last kiss before we left the storage room.

We barely made it to the elevator when we came across Dr. Lanik coming out of his office, one of the nurses right behind him. Normally that would not be cause for an alarm, but they both looked disheveled, and Dr. Lanik’s shirt was buttoned all wrong.

“Dr. Lanik, I think I’m gonna have to cancel on those drinks,” I smirked at him. “I’ve made plans with Connor, and from what I see, you won’t have trouble finding someone else to entertain you.”

It was a sight for sore eyes to see our head of Trauma just standing there speechless, his mouth open as Connor and I slipped into the elevator. Connor pulled me in for a kiss as the doors closed, and I swear I heard the nurse yelling at poor Dr. Lanik, calling him a cheater and a scumbag. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

Connor let go of me, a smile on his face.

“I love you,” he whispered, his eyes so full of love.

“I love you too you big buffoon,” I beamed at him, kissing him once more.

#connor rhodes #chicago med #fanfiction #connor rhodes x oc

[vassia-sparta]

Will you continue your Vampire Diaries fanfic about Rayna Silverstone?

It's been so long, I don't know if I can.