š¢š§š¤š«š²ļ¼often lost in a daydream. 18+. she/her. vintage soul. Write whenever i feel like it. Sabrina carpenterās lover. Daily new hyper fixations Ėā¹
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Summary: not really a plot, just smut so sorry š
includes/warnings: probs awfully written dont hate me, kissing, teasing, against the fireplace, fingering, no p in v iām sorry my children, probably very rushed, english isnāt my first language so if you see any mistakes, please do correct them :) Robb x reader, 18+ mdni.
šŖnotes: finally out of my writers block š«. I had no idea what to title this so forgive me for that. Enjoy this short fic thats basically just porn without much of a plot.
Robb entered the bedroom quietly, his stomach grumbling loudly. The scent of food still lingered in the air - you must have eaten without him. He pushed the door closed behind him and started taking off his fur cloak, expecting to find you angry or disappointed.
āi saved you a plate. Figured keeping it by the fire would keep it as long as possible. You decide if that was a success or notā ā
He turned to see the plate of food carefully arranged by the fire, still steaming slightly. A small smile tugged at his lips as he crossed the room, sitting down and unfolding the cloth covering the plate. The food was still warm, perfectly kept just for him. "It was successful.ā
You smiled softly at him, āgood.ā
He ate quietly for a moment, savoring the taste and the warmth. Between bites, he watched you sit by the fire, your dress simple but pretty. No furs, just you in the warm glow of the flames. He swallowed his mouthful and set the plate aside. "You didn't have to do that," he said softly.
āMy lord needs his nutrition.ā you stand up and stands straight before him, caressing his cheek as he looks up at you.
His hand automatically reached up to grasp your wrist gently as you caressed his cheek. The warmth of the fire and your touch was comforting after a long day of cold wind and harsh words from his men. He turned his head slightly to press a kiss to your palm before releasing your wrist.
āThe desert was not salvageable. Though i figured..ā ā you reach for the front ties of your dress and very slowly start undoing them. āit could be arranged otherwise.ā
Robb's breath hitched as you began to slowly untie the laces of your dress. The firelight danced across your skin, casting shadows that only served to accentuate your curves. He set the plate aside completely, his attention fully on you. He stood up slowly, his hands reaching out to gently push yours aside and take over the task of undoing the rest of the laces himself. His fingers brushed against your skin with each knot he untied, sending shivers down your spine. Once the dress was open, he pushed it off your shoulders slowly.
Your mouths get tangled in a soft kiss, slow and sensual, completely different from your usual hungry kisses when you were needy for eachother. This was gentle exploration, gratitude expressed through lips rather than words. His hands slid over your shoulders, where your dress rests.
You lean against the hearth of the fireplace, your hands finding his waist and holding onto it. ādo not undress me fully..ā
He broke the kiss gently, his forehead resting against yours as he listened to your request. His hands paused at the top of your dress, fingers curling slightly into the fabric but not pulling it down further. A soft murmur escaped him, "As my lady wishes."
His eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him softly once more. His large hands flattened against your lower back possessively, careful not to tug your dress down further. He deepened the kiss slowly, tasting you, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts un Hurriedly. Gods, youāre beautiful like this.
You chase him as he pulls back, your lips pressing to him briefly before he does it again, and you chase him again. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as you did so, his hands gripping your hips to steady you. He pulled back each time you tried to deepen the kiss, teasing you with brief presses of his lips against yours. The fire crackled behind, casting warm light on your playful interaction as you grip onto his collar possessively.
His breath caught in his throat at the desperate grip on his collar. The playful moment shifted into something more intense as he finally allowed you to capture his lips fully. One hand slid up to tangle in your hair while the other pressed firmly against the small of your back, holding you flush against him. You whimper into the kiss.
The whimper made his groin tighten immediately, desire shooting through him like an arrow. But he remembered your request - not to undress you completely. So instead of pulling your dress off, he kissed you harder, pressing your back against the warm stones of the fireplace gently.
Your hands explore the leather covering his torso, causing his breath to hitch, as you feel the muscle under his tunic. He leaned into your touch, one hand sliding down to grip your thigh and pull it up around his hip. The position opened you up to him. his hand slides over your thigh, underneath your dress and between your legs. he softly caresses your bare cunt.
You gasp lightly against his lips, looking deeply into his eyesā
The gasp was the sweetest sound he'd heard all day. His eyes locked onto yours, watching your pupils dilate as he began to slowly caress your pouty little cunt. He kept his touch gentle, exploring your folds with his fingers, sliding them along your wetness.
Swallowing your soft gasps with his kisses, his fingers finding your clit and circling it gently. The heat from the fireplace behind you was nothing compared to the heat between your legs. He leaned his forehead against yours, panting softly, "Like this?"
āGods..ā you moaned, the sound coming out as a soft breathy gasp, as you unconsciously grind against his fingers.
The sight of you grinding against his hand, mouth open in silent pleasure, made his heart pound in his chest. He captured your mouth again, swallowing her soft moans as he began to slowly thrust one finger into your tight channel. "So pretty when you're needy," he murmured against your lips. He added another finger, pumping them slowly in and out of your heat. His thumb continued to circle your clit, spreading your wetness around. "My pretty little wife," he breathed, nuzzling your neck. "Grinding on my fingers like a wanton little thing."
āRobbā you moaned, a little louder than you probably should have.
He groaned at the sound of his name on your lips. He could feel your inner walls fluttering around his fingers as you neared the edge of your orgasm. And with one curl of his fingers inside you, he made you come undone.
Summary: not really a plot, just smut so sorry š
includes/warnings: probs awfully written dont hate me, kissing, teasing, against the fireplace, fingering, no p in v iām sorry my children, probably very rushed, english isnāt my first language so if you see any mistakes, please do correct them :) Robb x reader, 18+ mdni.
šŖnotes: finally out of my writers block š«. I had no idea what to title this so forgive me for that. Enjoy this short fic thats basically just porn without much of a plot.
Robb entered the bedroom quietly, his stomach grumbling loudly. The scent of food still lingered in the air - you must have eaten without him. He pushed the door closed behind him and started taking off his fur cloak, expecting to find you angry or disappointed.
āi saved you a plate. Figured keeping it by the fire would keep it as long as possible. You decide if that was a success or notā ā
He turned to see the plate of food carefully arranged by the fire, still steaming slightly. A small smile tugged at his lips as he crossed the room, sitting down and unfolding the cloth covering the plate. The food was still warm, perfectly kept just for him. "It was successful.ā
You smiled softly at him, āgood.ā
He ate quietly for a moment, savoring the taste and the warmth. Between bites, he watched you sit by the fire, your dress simple but pretty. No furs, just you in the warm glow of the flames. He swallowed his mouthful and set the plate aside. "You didn't have to do that," he said softly.
āMy lord needs his nutrition.ā you stand up and stands straight before him, caressing his cheek as he looks up at you.
His hand automatically reached up to grasp your wrist gently as you caressed his cheek. The warmth of the fire and your touch was comforting after a long day of cold wind and harsh words from his men. He turned his head slightly to press a kiss to your palm before releasing your wrist.
āThe desert was not salvageable. Though i figured..ā ā you reach for the front ties of your dress and very slowly start undoing them. āit could be arranged otherwise.ā
Robb's breath hitched as you began to slowly untie the laces of your dress. The firelight danced across your skin, casting shadows that only served to accentuate your curves. He set the plate aside completely, his attention fully on you. He stood up slowly, his hands reaching out to gently push yours aside and take over the task of undoing the rest of the laces himself. His fingers brushed against your skin with each knot he untied, sending shivers down your spine. Once the dress was open, he pushed it off your shoulders slowly.
Your mouths get tangled in a soft kiss, slow and sensual, completely different from your usual hungry kisses when you were needy for eachother. This was gentle exploration, gratitude expressed through lips rather than words. His hands slid over your shoulders, where your dress rests.
You lean against the hearth of the fireplace, your hands finding his waist and holding onto it. ādo not undress me fully..ā
He broke the kiss gently, his forehead resting against yours as he listened to your request. His hands paused at the top of your dress, fingers curling slightly into the fabric but not pulling it down further. A soft murmur escaped him, "As my lady wishes."
His eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him softly once more. His large hands flattened against your lower back possessively, careful not to tug your dress down further. He deepened the kiss slowly, tasting you, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts un Hurriedly. Gods, youāre beautiful like this.
You chase him as he pulls back, your lips pressing to him briefly before he does it again, and you chase him again. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as you did so, his hands gripping your hips to steady you. He pulled back each time you tried to deepen the kiss, teasing you with brief presses of his lips against yours. The fire crackled behind, casting warm light on your playful interaction as you grip onto his collar possessively.
His breath caught in his throat at the desperate grip on his collar. The playful moment shifted into something more intense as he finally allowed you to capture his lips fully. One hand slid up to tangle in your hair while the other pressed firmly against the small of your back, holding you flush against him. You whimper into the kiss.
The whimper made his groin tighten immediately, desire shooting through him like an arrow. But he remembered your request - not to undress you completely. So instead of pulling your dress off, he kissed you harder, pressing your back against the warm stones of the fireplace gently.
Your hands explore the leather covering his torso, causing his breath to hitch, as you feel the muscle under his tunic. He leaned into your touch, one hand sliding down to grip your thigh and pull it up around his hip. The position opened you up to him. his hand slides over your thigh, underneath your dress and between your legs. he softly caresses your bare cunt.
You gasp lightly against his lips, looking deeply into his eyesā
The gasp was the sweetest sound he'd heard all day. His eyes locked onto yours, watching your pupils dilate as he began to slowly caress your pouty little cunt. He kept his touch gentle, exploring your folds with his fingers, sliding them along your wetness.
Swallowing your soft gasps with his kisses, his fingers finding your clit and circling it gently. The heat from the fireplace behind you was nothing compared to the heat between your legs. He leaned his forehead against yours, panting softly, "Like this?"
āGods..ā you moaned, the sound coming out as a soft breathy gasp, as you unconsciously grind against his fingers.
The sight of you grinding against his hand, mouth open in silent pleasure, made his heart pound in his chest. He captured your mouth again, swallowing her soft moans as he began to slowly thrust one finger into your tight channel. "So pretty when you're needy," he murmured against your lips. He added another finger, pumping them slowly in and out of your heat. His thumb continued to circle your clit, spreading your wetness around. "My pretty little wife," he breathed, nuzzling your neck. "Grinding on my fingers like a wanton little thing."
āRobbā you moaned, a little louder than you probably should have.
He groaned at the sound of his name on your lips. He could feel your inner walls fluttering around his fingers as you neared the edge of your orgasm. And with one curl of his fingers inside you, he made you come undone.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
The Robb x reader tag was truly popping off during the height of the popularity of Game of Thrones. So many great fics have disappeared and it's really sad because I still have them in my memory but can never read them again š
Iām rewatching game of thrones currently and remembered how much i love robb š went onto tumblr to read fics and its criminal how little there are. Iām happy to deliver if anyone has any requests š¤
warnings: hightower!reader, aegons twin. this is probably horribly written so thats a warning in itself, not proof read but i believe Y/N has been used on multiple occasions. Did not give reader a description other than female & lilac eyes. There is an age gap in this (reader is aegons age and daemon is whatever his canon age was in that time. My memory is awful) like i said, not proof read, if you see any spelling errors feel free to point them out! If i missed any warnings, please lmk :)
šŖnotes: its been a while since iāve seen season 1 so please ignore any timeline mistakes. Daemyra does not exist in this. :)
my apologiesss, i completely abandoned this story š„² i hope some of you would still like to read it even if its been a while
When you and Daemon walked into the dinning hall, Rhaenyra, her sons, Daemonās daughters, Alicent, and your siblings were already there waiting. Everyone talked amongst themselves.
"Y/N," Helaena smiled as she went to greet you.
You brought your younger sister into an embrace, "Little sister."
Aegon and Aemond were quick to join the two. They too had missed their eldest sister.
"Little brothers," you touched their faces.
"We are not so little anymore," Aemond said as he towered over you. Aegon laughed at the remark, āyou are only older by a few seconds, sister.ā
"So it seems," you smiled, bittersweet. "How have you three been?"
"Good. Aegon and I have three children now. One set of twins and a son. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, and Maelor." Helaena told you. You were surprised. You hadnāt been told of Aegon and Helaenas marriage. Then again, why would anyone tell you? It was a silent move, like a game of chess. Your brothers and sister were Otto and Alicents pawns. Surely, neither would want you to know.
"What beautiful names," you took Helaenas hand into your own. "How do you like being a father, Aegon?" Aegon didn't know how to respond. He was barely there for his children. Hell, the boy didn't even want any. You took his look of uncertainty as an answer.
āI see youāre becoming a mother now too.ā Helaena says softly, her eyes on your small belly.
The thought of it made you smile, though you still were terrified, and did not know what would come of your marriage with Daemon.
Everyone went to stand next to their seats when the door opened. Viserys's entire family watched as he was carried in on a chair. You, along with the others sat once the King was at his place.
Nothing was said for a moment, they waited for Viserys to be the first to speak.
"How good it is... to see you all tonight... together." Viserys said as he looked at each member of his family.
"Prayer before we begin?" Alicent asked him.
He replied, "Yes."
This wasnāt something you were new to, you grew up with the faith of the seven. But you knew how ridiculous Daemon thought it was, so you ended up abandoning it eventually.
Nonetheless, you simply bowed your head slightly, and listened.
"May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broke for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest." Alicent spoke with her head bowed and eyes closed.
You shifted your gaze from the silverware to Daemon who shook his head and rolled his eyes.
You couldn't help but to give an amused smile.
"This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. And my sweet daughter, Y/N, is expecting her first babe. A toast to the young Princes... their betrothed, and my future grandchild.ā Viserys said, raising his cup to the boys and you. Everyone followed suit and raised their cups as well. "Hear, hear!" Daemon smiled at his wife.
You watched your twin brother, Aegon, lean and whisper something to Jacaerys. Obviously, it wasn't something too nice because Jace didn't even bother to say anything back.
"Let us toast as well Prince Lucerys... the future Lord of the Tides." Viserys added. Again everyone raised and sipped from their cups. You twirled the the ends of your hair in your fingers. For whatever reason, you felt anxious.
When Daemon noticed your restlessness, he silently intertwined your hands, calming you. The two of you watched as Viserys stood up. Curious as to what else he had to say.
"It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table," he began. "The faces most dear to me in all the world... yet grown so distant from each other... in the years past."
Viserys reached for the gold mask that covered half his face, and took it off. He looked around the table, revealing his missing eye and the hole in his cheek.
You bit your tongue and squeezed Daemons hand at the sight of your father. At that moment you hated yourself for the way you felt. To you, it was terrifying.
"My own face... is no longer a handsome one... if indeed it ever was. But tonight... I wish you to see me, as I am. Not just a king... but your father. You brother. Your husband... and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems... walk for much longer among you." Viserys said, in a sorrowful tone.
Your heart broke hearing him say what you already knew. You did not let any tears fall, but you couldn't hide the sadness on her face. "Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts," he continued. "The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances, if not for the sake of the crown... the for the sake of this old man, who loves you all so dearly."
Viserys slowly fell back into his chair. Rhaenyra quickly stood up with her cup in her hand.
"I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood... more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with... unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that she has my gratitude, as im also sure she has Y/Nās. And our apologies," Rhaenyra said.Ā You looked at Rhaenyra, then to Alicent. You rose your cup slightly, as if saying you agreed. But of course, you did not. You only did it to seem polite.
Never has Rhaenyra spoken for you, and you did not like that she did. To be quite frank, it annoyed you. But your father wished for you to all get along, so you let it go. "Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess." Alicent spoke genuinely. "We three are mothers, and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow." Alicent looked at you. To your surprise, she seemed sincere. You would not make any toasts or verbally apologize, but you did give your mother a small, almost invisible, smile.
"I raise my cup to you both and to your house. You will make a fine queen," Alicent told Rhaenyra. Once again, everyone drank from their cups.
"That almost seemed real," Daemon whispered to you. You chuckled then whispered back, "Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't."
"Only time will tell," Daemon said.
You were picking at your food when Jacaerys slammed his hands against the table, gaining everyone's attention. Jacaerys stared at Aemond for a moment, causing him to also stand up. You could see the boy thinking... debating. The brunette Prince backed down, and gave a friendly hit to Aegons shoulder. "Seven hells," you said to yourself.Ā
"To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles." Jacaerys toasted. "To you as well," Aegon said reluctantly.
Helaena was the next to stand.
"I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They'll be married soon..." She paused, "it isn't so bad. Mostly he just ignores you... except sometimes when he's drunk." Daemon laughed at Helaenas words, but you felt sympathy for your younger sister. āLet us have some music," Viserys ordered. The dinner went on, and again everyone talked to each other.
The peace was soon broken by Aemond hitting his hands against the table. Everyone's focus was on the one eyed Prince. "Final tribute." Aemond stood, "To the health of my nephews: Jace... Luke... and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise... strong."
"Aemond," Alicent quickly said. You looked between your nephews, both held very different expressions. "Come... let us drain our cups to theses three... Strong boys." Aemond taunted. "I dare you to say that again," Jacaerys challenged.
"Why? Twas only a compliment," Aemond began walking towards Jace.
āāāāā-
After that fiasco, Rhaenyra, Daemon and both their children flew back to dragonstone, with Daemon having made the promise to return as soon as possible. You had wanted to stay behind with your mother and siblings for a little while longer.
The next morning, you had slept in later than usual. As you were getting dressed into your gown, by yourself, as oddly no handmaidens came to you in the morning, you heard a click by the door, as if the door was locked. I dont remember having it locked, you thought to yourself.
Your mother, enters your chambers. You stand up from your dresser to curtsy and greet her, āmother?ā
āYour father passed away in the night, before that he told me he wanted aegon to be crowned king.ā She wasted no time on formalities. Lies, you thought, Viserys would never.
āDoes Rhaenyra know?ā
Alicent doesnt grace you with a reply to your question, āyou will be expected to kneel before your brother in front of the crowds, and pledge your loyalty to him.ā
āI will do no such thing.ā
āVery well,ā with that alicent turned around and left your chambers, having the door locked behind her. As soon as you hear the door click, you run towards it, trying to open it and when that doesnt work, you bang on it.
When you receive no answer, you turn to the passage ways that you know are in these rooms, it may have been years since youāve been in the redkeep, but you remember every detail. The tunnels lead to an alley somewhere in Flea Bottom. You bought a disguise at a shop and made your way to the great sept, where aegon would be crowned.
Standing among the masses, you watched as everything progressed. Nothing but anger overtook you and you made your way to the dragon pit, though not before stopping to steal your fathers crown.
āā-
You break through the floor boards on Grey Ghost, he roars loudly making everyone take a step back, alicent stands in front of Aegon, shielding him. You hold long eye contact with your mother, before turning Grey Ghost and commanding him to fly, making your way to dragonstone.
You looked down from your dragon's saddle towards the sprawling city of King's Landing below. Your grip on the pommels was tight, your heart racing with a sense of urgency. You knew you had to make haste to Dragonstone and warn Rhaenyra of the impending danger.
āāāā-
Dragonstone
"Pardon me, my princess," Ser Lorent arrived.
"Ah, Ser Lorrent." Rhaenyra noticed the look on the Kingsguard knight's face. "What is it?"
"Princess Y/N has just arrived on dragonback. She urgently demands an audience with you and Daemon. Says it cannot wait."
Rhaenyra and Daemon were both filled with concern as they observed you and your urgent demand to see them. You appeared to be out of breath as you made your way into the room, indicating that whatever was happening must be of great importance. Upon closer inspection, it became clear that your gown was worn and tattered. This only added to the apprehension of the situation, as it was obvious that something serious had occurred in their absence. "Y/N?!?ā Daemon was the first to see it. "What in Seven hells happened?!" He checked his wife up and down to see if she was hurt in any way. His hands landed on her belly, āare you okay?ā
āI need to talk to you, now.ā
"Settle down. Take a deep breath and tell us what's going on," Rhaenyra said.
āFather is dead.ā
again, so sorry for neglecting this story for so long š„ŗ
Summary/request: Could you do Daemon Targaryen for please please please or espresso? that would be lovely
includes/warnings: just some angst, and i think thats it.
requested by: anon
šŖ notes: this one definitely sucks guys iām so sorry š„²
for my short & sweet collection
Daemon had a reputation. Everyone called him the Rogue Princeāreckless, wild, untamable. But when he married you, you thought things might change. You thought heād settle down. You thought youād finally be enough to keep him close.
But now, after weeks of silence and coldness between you, you were starting to wonder if you'd been wrong.
You stood by the window in your chambers, staring out at the night sky. The candles flickered in the room behind you, casting shadows against the stone walls. You hadnāt seen Daemon all day. He was always busy, always so distant, even though he had sworn that when you married him, you would never be apart.
You heard the door creak open, and there he was. Daemon. The man who had promised you everything but still hadnāt given you anything. His eyes met yours briefly, but then he looked away. He always looked away.
āDaemon,ā you said quietly, your voice trembling. āWhere have you been?ā
He didn't answer right away. He never did. Instead, he paced a little, his dark cloak trailing behind him like a shadow. You could feel the distance between you stretching, pulling, until it felt like you could hardly breathe.
āIāve been busy,ā he muttered, his voice colder than usual. He didnāt look at you when he said it.
āBusy?ā You laughed, but it came out bitter, too sharp. āWith what, Daemon? Youāre always busy. You never have time for me anymore.ā
You took a step toward him, your chest tightening with frustration. You needed him to look at you, needed him to see how much you were hurting. āYou promised me you wouldnāt leave me alone, but youāre always so far away.ā
Daemonās eyes flickered toward you, and there was something in themāsomething that almost looked like guilt. Almost.
āI didnāt ask for this,ā he said quietly, his voice raw. āI didnāt ask to be married. I didnāt ask for someone to depend on me.ā
Your heart sank. You could feel the sting of his words, like he was pushing you away, rejecting you. It was too much, too sudden, too painful.
āPlease,ā you whispered, your voice shaking now. āPlease donāt do this. Donāt push me away. I love you. I need you. I want you.ā
Daemon was silent, staring at the floor, fighting something inside himself. You could see it, the struggle, the way he couldnāt bring himself to let go of his pride. But you werenāt about to give up on him, not when you loved him this much.
You reached out, grabbing his sleeve, pulling him back toward you. āDaemon, please. Just... just be here. I donāt need anything else. Just you.ā
Finally, he looked at you, his eyes dark and conflicted, and for a moment, you thought he was going to say something else, push you away even more. But then, without warning, he pulled you into him, kissing you so hard you could taste the apology in it.
When he pulled away, his breath came in shaky waves. āIām sorry,ā he murmured, voice strained. āI didnāt know how to be what you needed.ā
āYou donāt have to be perfect, Daemon,ā you whispered, your hands tracing the lines of his face. āYou just have to be here. Please.ā
His face softened, and this time, when he kissed you again, it was differentāgentle, tender, full of the words neither of you could say aloud.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like he was finally there. Finally, he was home.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Summary: iām gonna be cruel and say just read š¤
Includes/warnings: targtower!reader, aegons twin. Y/N has been used on multiple occasions. There is an age gap in this (whatever daemons canon age is). Some high valyrian with translations, i am not fluent so ignore if it sucks. Lmk if i missed anything
šŖnotes: its been a while since iāve seen season 1 so please ignore any timeline mistakes. Daemyra does not exist in this. :)
"Se BlÄkuata RÄsho drÄƱot vilinio viÄrtis," Gerardys said in High Valyrian. A maester of the Citadel renowned for his exceptional capabilities as a healer, he was assigned to serve as Princess Rhaenyra's personal maester. Such a prestigious appointment bears testament to his expertise and unwavering commitment to the art of healing. "'And landed at the Blackwater Rush.'"
Rhaenyra, entered the room. She was proud of her half-sister and watched her. The Realm's Delight wore a decadent off-the-shoulder black dress with two red dragons stitched to the bodice of her garment, paying to her family of House Targaryen. "'DrÄƱot,'" she assisted. Despite her sisters commitment, Rhaenrya did feel you were pushing yourself a little too hard.
You noticed your sisters presence. "DrÄƱot. DrÄƱot..." Come on; you know this word. "'At the end'?" You asked.
"The mouth."
"Mouth! Mouth, mouth, mouth. Come on, Y/N, you knew that. You've been told this word countless times! DrÄƱot. DrÄƱot..."
"DrÄƱot vilinio viÄrtisā" Gerardys resumed his instructions. "DrÄƱot," you muttered as you strived to improve daily, never letting yourself off the hook for any mistakes or slip-ups. "DrÄƱot... Ah! Come on, Y/N. You know this one. Gods, where is Daemon when you need him..." you reprimanded yourself.
Rhaenyra walked to the other side of the room where her third son, Prince Joffrey, was reading a book with one of Dragonstones many septas. At six years old, his brown eyes, hair, and pug-nose had become more distinct, similar to his older brothers. "Perhaps that's enough for this morning," she recommended.
"Mother's right, Y/N," Lucerys agreed. "You've been pushing yourself a little too hardā"
"No! No, no. I want to keep going," you were distressed as you waved your hands frantically, begging them not to end your tutoring.
You took a deep breath, composing yourself before finally exhaling. "Maester," you motioned.
"GuÄsi ropakakson Äegon Å«ndas." Gerardys repeated in High Valyrian.
"Ahem! Well... 'Aegon... ordered that the trees should be... killed.'" You looked around confidently, eagerly seeking confirmation on whether you had gotten it right or not.
"'Felled.' It is a related word that can be interchangeable with the word killed depending on the context," Rhaenyra gently corrected her sister. However, you didn't seem too pleased about it as you slapped yourself on the forehead with your palm in exasperation. "But I don't expect you to learn High Valyrian in a day, Y/N. Knowing its dialect and fluidity is a process that requires a considerable amount of time, patience, and practice."
You stubbornly shook your head. "I am a princess of the royal House Targaryen; I'm expected to possess a fluency in the tongue akin to that of my predecessors. Moreover, this proficiency is of utmost importance."
"Learning a new language can be challenging, especially when starting later in life. However, I, too, speak the Common Tongue fluently just as much as anyone else and empathize with your journey to learn High Valyrian, which began around when I was Joffery's age. So unless you're determined to tire yourself out, you have plenty of time to study. I understand it may feel like time is running out, but it won't be the end if you rest your mind for a moment. You are young, Y/N. One and Twenty years old. And the future is always uncertain. It can be overwhelming to carry all of life's burdens alone. But remember that your family will always support and pick you up when life knocks you down. They'll be a strong and dependable presence in your life. Do you understand?"
You, the targaryen princess, faced yet another obstacle in your journey to self-improvement. Despite your unwavering dedication to bettering yourself, there were times when you would forget that you were still a mere mortal with limitations.
This realization often left you feeling disheartened and frustrated. However, your sister always reassured you that you had time to overcome these hurdles and move forward.
After a considerable period, Daemon ultimately returned from the shoreline. You noticed your uncle-husband's return. "What is it?" You asked.
Daemon handed Rhaenyra a message, the wax seal broken and left open. "Read it for yourself," he stated.
As Rhaenyra scanned the letter, her heart began to race, and she couldn't help but notice the seriousness etched onto Daemon's face. Even though they were exiled, they still had their connections to the world. Daemon had friends in the City Watch, while Rhaenyra had her allies in court, such as Lord Allun Caswell. However, the letter's contents widened her eyes, and her jaw clenched tightly with anger. The tension in the room was palpable as they both realized the gravity of the situation. "What's the meaning of this?!" she demanded.
"Sister? Husband? What is it?" You ask, concerned.
"Lord Corlys, was wounded in battle. They speculate he might not survive." Rhaenyra clenched the letter in her hands. "But instead of having the dignity to pray for his brother's safety and being concerned for his well-being, Ser Vaemond has instead gone to the capital to press that he should be made heir of Driftmark."
Rhaenyra's thoughts raced. It was clear that Vaemond intended to question Lucerysā legitimacy and, in turn, the legitimacy of all her children.
The mere thought of it made her banish the idea from her mind. She was not going to let that happen. After all, Vaemond was a greedy eel. However, she couldn't let such a challenge to her children's claim go unanswered. "He means to call into question Lukeās legitimacy," she told her sister, and Daemon. "And, by extension, Jace and Joffrey."
"Vaemond only cares about Driftmark and the Velaryon line. Not about our politics," Daemon dismissed.
Meanwhile you shook slightly, your mind racing. This shouldnāt be happening. Surely your father wasnāt gonna allow for this to happen?
Daemon could sense that his niece-wife was going through a tough time. He gently placed his hand on your pregnant belly, providing you the comfort you needed.
Not long after you claimed Grey Ghost, you allowed Daemon to bed you. Your relationship has since progressed, as you had gotten with babe. But you were still very estranged, not quite knowing what to do with what you felt for Daemon, and not knowing if he felt the same.
āTo kings landing, then.ā Daemon said.
Rhaenyra nodded, affirmed. "To King's Landing. It's time to end this mummer's farce," she said with a fiery resolve. If alicent wants a fight, it's a fight she'll get.
You stayed silent, not knowing what to do. Would you be expected to stand with your mother, or your sister? Could you really stand with rhaenyra and make that final act of betrayal towards your mother?
āāāāāā
Red Keep ā Courtyard...
"All hail Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princes Y/N Targaryen and Prince Daemon Targaryen!" Ser Steffon announced.
As you stepped out of the carriage, you were surrounded by your three nephews, Princes Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey Velaryon. Your uncle-husband Daemon, cousin/stepdaughter Rhaena Targaryen and half-sister Rhaenyra Targaryen, were also with you.
It had been six long years since they had last been at the Red Keep, for you even longer. and you were completely unaware of the changes that had taken place in King's Landing.
You, and Rhaenyra stood in viserysā chambers, daemon off to do god knows what, as Alicent, your mother entered.
"It is good to see you again after so many years, Princess Rhaenyra," Alicent politely greeted. "And to you as well, Y/N. It has been so long since we were granted the joy of your presence."
Rhaenyra silenced you before you could say anything that might aggravate your already delicate situation. After all, you hadnāt seen the red keep since you were five years old, your mothers doing. You spoke of having visited the king, and about the hand of the king. But at the end of the conversation, Rhaenyra could tell you were doubtful of attending.
Alicent left, parting with the words āI will see you in the great hall, i hope youāll be by my side, sweet daughter.ā Her eyes on your belly before leaving.
After moments of silence, Rhaenyra turned to you, āwhat is on your mind?ā
You rest your hands on your slightly visible bump, āI do not know if i can stand with you.ā You didnāt mean it in the way of betraying Rhaenyra, but more as in, you couldnāt betray your mother. āMaybe it is for the best, if i dont show up.ā
āYou always reminded me it was our duty to hold the realm united against a common foe. When i was named heir, it divided the realm. I thought I wanted it, but the burden is a heavy one. It's too heavy.ā Tears are in her eyes as Rhaenyra speaks to you, her hand holding yours. āIf it is one you wish for me to bear, then stand with me and your nephews. Stand with your husband, instead of those who have betrayed you and neglected you time and time again. Stand against those who wish to divide us at every turn.ā
āāāā-
As Rhaenyra readied herself, she noticed Queen Alicent standing across the room, accompanied by her children, Prince aegon, Princess Helaena, Prince Aemond. The Targaryen prince gave her a stern look, almost comical in its intensity. Rhaenyra couldn't help but notice the disdainful and self-assured gaze that Ser Vaemond fixed on her. The Velaryon commander's demeanor was something that rubbed her the wrong way. Even though Vaemond was more than twice her age, she was determined to stand her ground.
"Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survives his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of deciding the future of Driftmark's succession and the next Lord of the Tides," Otto began. "As Hand of the King, I speak with the king's voice on this and all other matters." He sat on the Iron Throne. "The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon will present his claim. Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen shall stand against him. Ser Vaemond, as Lord Corlys's kin, you have the honor of beginning first. Explain to the court why you should be named heir to the Driftwood Throne."
Vaemond approached the Iron Throne after receiving a reassuring nod from Alicent. He gazed disdainfully at Rhaenyra and her children with a haughty expression, curling his lip in derision. "My queen," he addressed Alicent. "My lord Hand," he addressed Otto. "Lords and ladies of the realm," he addressed the assembly. "The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys's closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins."
"As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon," Rhaenyra interrupted. "If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir," she scornfully accused.
"You will have your chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra." Alicent reprimanded. "Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard."
Vaemond turned to Rhaenyra. "What do you know of Velaryon blood, princess?" he said with a sneer. "I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn't recognize it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours."
āMy Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all.
I humbly put myself before you as my brotherās successor⦠the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.ā
āThank you, Ser Vaemond. Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon.ā Otto says.
āIf I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this veryā¦ā Rhaenyra is cut off by the doors opening, and in comes Viserys with you by his side. You standing by Rhaenyra alone wouldnāt do the trick, but you could put her father on the throne, so she could properly be defended.
āKing Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. And his daughter, Princess Y/N Targaryen.ā
You help your father onto the throne slowly, before walking back down and standing in between Daemon and Rhaenyra, refusing to meet your mothers gaze.
āI must⦠admit⦠my confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present⦠who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlysās wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.ā
āIndeed, Your Grace. It was ever my husbandās will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his true born son⦠Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlysās granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.ā
āWell⦠the matter is settled.ā Again. Viserys struggles to speak, very out of breath. āI hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.ā Viserys wheezes.
Summary: cant think of one without spoiling everything š„²
Includes/warnings: hightower!reader, aegons twin. Y/N has been used on multiple occasions. There is an age gap in this (whatever daemons canon age is). Some high valyrian with translations, i am not fluent so ignore if it sucks.
šŖnotes: its been a while since iāve seen season 1 so please ignore any timeline mistakes. Daemyra does not exist in this. :)
Biggest thank you to my lovely hannah ( @just-some-random-blogger ) for beta-reading this <33
Ā« āI am not going back to Oldtown with you, uncle.ā Ā»
Ā« āThen where will you go?ā Ā»
Ā« āiāll be with rhaenyra.ā Ā»
Dragonstone ā Near the beaches...
Less than six months later, after the incident at Driftmark, a new act would rattle the court.
As per the ancient customs of House Targaryen, Daemon and his niece, you, had arranged a ceremony on the beaches of Dragonstone to perform a Valyrian rite, which was attended by Rhaenyra, her children, Jace, Luke, Joffrey, and Daemonās children, Baela, and Rhaena, along with Rhaenyra's maester, Gerardys.Ā
The wedding ceremony was to be solemnized by a High Priest, who worshipped the Old Gods of Valyria, and was brought in by both Targaryen royals. However, due to the tragic event of the Doom that destroyed the Valyrian Freehold and their civilization, very little information or records remained about the long-forgotten religion, except that the Targaryen dragons were named after gods from the ancient pantheon worshipped throughout Old Valyria's vast empire.Ā
Their faith was practiced for thousands of years before being greatly diminished. It was a momentous occasion for the family, steeped in tradition and history, as they honored their heritage and celebrated the union of two of its members.
You, dressed in the traditional garments, looked back at everyone. This marriage was performed suddenly without the knowledge of your father, mother or siblings. They were not in attendanceā a deep shame. You had hoped that they would be there to support you.Ā
You never wanted to be wed, you linked it with childbirth and after the late queen Aemma, and Daemonās late wife, Laena; it scared you to no end. Your thoughts drift back to the day you and Daemon arrived at Dragonstone, and he had made the proposal.Ā
Ā« āIf you don't want Alicent to have any control over you anymore, you must wed me. A womanās place is beside her husband. She couldnāt deny that.ā Ā»
Ā« āI do not wish to be wed, Daemonā to sit around as a broodmare, my only purpose to produce heirs until I end like...ā Ā»
Ā« " I know you are frightened, but I won't let anything happen to you.ā Ā»
Proceeding with the wedding, you and Daemon cut your hands and lips with dragonglass, mixed your blood in a ceremonial chalice, and marked Valyrian glyphs in blood on your foreheads.
"Hen lantoti Änogar. Va sȳndroti vÄedroma.ā Blood of two. Joined as one. the High Priest prayed in High Valyrian. "MÄro perzot gÄ«hoti. ElÄdroma iÄrza sÄ«r. IzulÄ« ampÄ perzÄ«. PrÅ«mÄ« lanti sÄteksi. Hen jenȳ mÄzÄ«larion. QÄlossa ozÅ«ndesi. Sȳndroro ÅñŠjÄdo. Rȳ kÄ«via mazvestraksi.ā Ghostly flame. And song of shadows. Two hearts as embers. Forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass. The stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time. Of darkness and light.
"A perversion of justice," Larys commented. "The young Prince Aemond... defiled. An outrage."
"Indeed," Alicent replied. Since her father took control of her influence, the instructions were left relatively straightforward. Her position as Queen Consort was in dire jeopardy.
"If it's an eye you want to balance the scales, I am your servant."
"Don't bother. Even if Rhaenyra's bastards are mere pushovers, she and daemon are another matter entirely. So even if I wanted to, such actions would only bring further unnecessary trouble. But your devotion has not gone unnoticed."
"These are dangerous times."
"The day will doubtless come when House Hightower will require such a friend. With not only skill but discretion as well."
"I shall await your call, my queen. However..." Larys passed on a note. "It's come to my attention that a certain young princess has done the unthinkable, Your Grace."
Alicent raised a curious eyebrow and examined the note. Her eyes traced the handwriting intricately. When she finally realized what Larys's spies had uncovered, the queen couldn't help but gulp. "My sweet girl.." She turned to Larys. "Thank you for letting me know."
After the wedding, there was no bedding ceremony. As much as daemon had wanted to bed you, he knew it was not something you wanted yet, still far to scared of your duties as wife. Only you two would know that secret, to anyone else you had consummated.
You had avoided daemon after that night, trying your hardest to not speak to him, or to avoid his presence altogether. Having never been close with him beforehand, you didnāt know what to talk to him about. If you werenāt being a wife, what else should you be doing? You did not know.
The small folk and the fishermen looked up in confusion as you passed them, it wasnt a usual occurrence that a Targaryen princess such as yourself, walked along the dusty beach of dragonstone, in a fancy dress no less. You had wanted to clear your mind, you told yourself. But subconsciously, it might have had something to do with the sightings of a dragon near the beach the past few days.
Daemon had assigned a personal guard to you, to keep you safe. If the guard reported back to him on your doings, you did not know. But if he did, it wasnāt obvious. āPrincess, maybe we should turn back.ā Ser Steffon spoke, gulping as he hears the screams of terror as a dragon is sighted flying towards the beach.
āIf you want to return, you are welcome to do so Ser. I am staying.ā Claiming a dragon wasnt the first thing that crossed your mind, you simply wanted to stay at the beach. And unlike the small folk, you were not terrified of dragons. But yet as the dragon flew over you, and the thought of claiming it did cross your mind, a small tingle of terror did run over your spine before you shook it off. You are a targaryen, this is your birthright. You tell yourself. Donāt be scared of what is owed to you.
You speed up to the flat lands where you saw the dragon land. You hadnāt seen what dragon it was, you had only hoped it was seasmoke, or any other dragon that wasnāt as scary, in your mind, as the wild ones.
After Aemond claimed vhagar, you were left the only Targaryen without a mount. It broke your heart when your dragon didnāt hatch in OldTown. Now that you had this opportunity in front of you, you werenāt gonna let it go to waste.
Ser Steffon, however scared, did not turn away, and instead followed you. Ofcourse his pleadings to turn back never stopped, and neither did his murmurs: āPrince Daemon is going to kill me.ā
Now that you have the dragon in your full sight, you can finally see which one it is. You audibly gulp. āgrey ghost.ā, you whisper to yourself. It just had to be a wild dragon didnāt it?
You donāt let it deter you, slowly stepping closer. you were never taught High Valyrian in OldTown, you had only started learning with Rhaenyra when you first came to dragonstone. You hadnāt progressed far, so you tried your hardest to remember dragon commands. LykirÄ«, dohaerÄs, sÅvÄs, you recited over and over in your head as you stopped in front of Grey Ghost. He is a beautiful pale grey-white dragon, and if the stories were true, he blended in beautifully with the clouds.
It made sense that he was near the beach these past few days, according to the stories you had heard, Grey Ghost preferred fish.
āBeautifulā, you mumble to yourself, you were mesmerised.
āPrincess! Please get away from that beast!ā
You clench your jaw, āDragons are not beasts, Ser Steffon, they are beautiful creatures. If you do not wish to be here, you are free to leave!ā You yell at him over the wind.
You take small steps towards Grey Ghost, and he growls at you. āLykirÄ«, Grey Ghost, DohaerÄs!ā
You chant those two words over and over towards him, your hand held out as you step closer to his head. This is it, you think, this is the part where i get burned alive.
Eventually you step so close, your hand lands on his snout. āKostilusā you whisper, please.
Grey Ghost turns his head away. You move towards the length of his body, praying to the seven you wonāt get burned, or eaten.
You hear Ser Steffon running away, probably to fetch Daemon, or other guards. You dont know why, if this is when Grey Ghost decides to kill you, nobody would be able to stop it.
You slowly climb up, somewhat clumsily seeing as Grey Ghost has no saddle for you to climb up on, and youāre wearing a dress instead of the usual riding wear.
As you manoeuvre yourself on top, you settle down and let out a sigh of relief, It doesnt last long because youāre forced to lean forward and grab onto something, anything, as grey ghost moves. āLykirÄ«, Grey Ghost, sÅvÄs.ā
With that, Grey Ghost takes off. Once in the sky, its hard for you to not panic. Not only is Grey Ghost very fast and very excited, you are also flying at a great height without a saddle, or reigns to hold onto.
You hear a loud roar and suddenly a red dragon flies beside you, caraxes. A smile blossoms onto your face as you follow the length of the blood wyrms body til your eyes land on your husband.
Daemon smiles at you, as he leans back in his saddle and spreads his arm wide. Youād do the same, but you are nowhere near as skilled at riding a dragon as he is.
Your feet touch the ground as you dismount Grey Ghost. You spent an hour in the sky, flying around with Daemon, before he led you to the dragonmont.
In the sky it was fun, but you knew that now youāre on the ground, you were in for a scolding. And as you approach Daemon, the stern look on his face proves you right.
He meets you halfway, stands impossibly close to you, puts his hand on your waist to lock you in and places his head right beside yours. āDo you know how reckless and dangerous that was?ā
You sigh, but dont say anything to excuse yourself, because nothing will excuse it.
āIām sorry.ā
āAre you happy now? Did you get what you so desperately needed? you were even willing to risk your own life for it.ā
You say nothing, you dont move and you dont speak, you only avert your eyes downwards. Daemon notices and pulls back slightly. He puts his fingers under your chin and forces you to make eye contact with him again. He leans slightly forward, and presses his forehead against yours for nothing more of a nanosecond before pulling away again and walking off, leaving you standing there.
AS BOTH A HUUUUUUGE SABRINA CARPENTER FAN AND THE BIGGEST DAEMON GIRLY IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY TO SEE SOMEBODY WITH THE SAME COMBO OF INTERESTS (that doesnt make sense but oh well) were literally same brain bc ive written smth based off of juno (ur bed chem jace fic x martell reader was rlly cute, may have stalked your blog a bit) bc literally all of short nā sweet is a masterpiece which needs fanworks in all different forms. I loved this and love your writingggg šš
Thanks for gracing us all with this lovely work xx
Summary: cant think of one without spoiling everything š„²
Includes/warnings: hightower!reader, aegons twin. Y/N has been used on multiple occasions. There is an age gap in this (whatever daemons canon age is). Some high valyrian with translations, i am not fluent so ignore if it sucks.
šŖnotes: its been a while since iāve seen season 1 so please ignore any timeline mistakes. Daemyra does not exist in this. :)
Biggest thank you to my lovely hannah ( @just-some-random-blogger ) for beta-reading this <33
Ā« āI am not going back to Oldtown with you, uncle.ā Ā»
Ā« āThen where will you go?ā Ā»
Ā« āiāll be with rhaenyra.ā Ā»
Dragonstone ā Near the beaches...
Less than six months later, after the incident at Driftmark, a new act would rattle the court.
As per the ancient customs of House Targaryen, Daemon and his niece, you, had arranged a ceremony on the beaches of Dragonstone to perform a Valyrian rite, which was attended by Rhaenyra, her children, Jace, Luke, Joffrey, and Daemonās children, Baela, and Rhaena, along with Rhaenyra's maester, Gerardys.Ā
The wedding ceremony was to be solemnized by a High Priest, who worshipped the Old Gods of Valyria, and was brought in by both Targaryen royals. However, due to the tragic event of the Doom that destroyed the Valyrian Freehold and their civilization, very little information or records remained about the long-forgotten religion, except that the Targaryen dragons were named after gods from the ancient pantheon worshipped throughout Old Valyria's vast empire.Ā
Their faith was practiced for thousands of years before being greatly diminished. It was a momentous occasion for the family, steeped in tradition and history, as they honored their heritage and celebrated the union of two of its members.
You, dressed in the traditional garments, looked back at everyone. This marriage was performed suddenly without the knowledge of your father, mother or siblings. They were not in attendanceā a deep shame. You had hoped that they would be there to support you.Ā
You never wanted to be wed, you linked it with childbirth and after the late queen Aemma, and Daemonās late wife, Laena; it scared you to no end. Your thoughts drift back to the day you and Daemon arrived at Dragonstone, and he had made the proposal.Ā
Ā« āIf you don't want Alicent to have any control over you anymore, you must wed me. A womanās place is beside her husband. She couldnāt deny that.ā Ā»
Ā« āI do not wish to be wed, Daemonā to sit around as a broodmare, my only purpose to produce heirs until I end like...ā Ā»
Ā« " I know you are frightened, but I won't let anything happen to you.ā Ā»
Proceeding with the wedding, you and Daemon cut your hands and lips with dragonglass, mixed your blood in a ceremonial chalice, and marked Valyrian glyphs in blood on your foreheads.
"Hen lantoti Änogar. Va sȳndroti vÄedroma.ā Blood of two. Joined as one. the High Priest prayed in High Valyrian. "MÄro perzot gÄ«hoti. ElÄdroma iÄrza sÄ«r. IzulÄ« ampÄ perzÄ«. PrÅ«mÄ« lanti sÄteksi. Hen jenȳ mÄzÄ«larion. QÄlossa ozÅ«ndesi. Sȳndroro ÅñŠjÄdo. Rȳ kÄ«via mazvestraksi.ā Ghostly flame. And song of shadows. Two hearts as embers. Forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass. The stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time. Of darkness and light.
"A perversion of justice," Larys commented. "The young Prince Aemond... defiled. An outrage."
"Indeed," Alicent replied. Since her father took control of her influence, the instructions were left relatively straightforward. Her position as Queen Consort was in dire jeopardy.
"If it's an eye you want to balance the scales, I am your servant."
"Don't bother. Even if Rhaenyra's bastards are mere pushovers, she and daemon are another matter entirely. So even if I wanted to, such actions would only bring further unnecessary trouble. But your devotion has not gone unnoticed."
"These are dangerous times."
"The day will doubtless come when House Hightower will require such a friend. With not only skill but discretion as well."
"I shall await your call, my queen. However..." Larys passed on a note. "It's come to my attention that a certain young princess has done the unthinkable, Your Grace."
Alicent raised a curious eyebrow and examined the note. Her eyes traced the handwriting intricately. When she finally realized what Larys's spies had uncovered, the queen couldn't help but gulp. "My sweet girl.." She turned to Larys. "Thank you for letting me know."
After the wedding, there was no bedding ceremony. As much as daemon had wanted to bed you, he knew it was not something you wanted yet, still far to scared of your duties as wife. Only you two would know that secret, to anyone else you had consummated.
You had avoided daemon after that night, trying your hardest to not speak to him, or to avoid his presence altogether. Having never been close with him beforehand, you didnāt know what to talk to him about. If you werenāt being a wife, what else should you be doing? You did not know.
The small folk and the fishermen looked up in confusion as you passed them, it wasnt a usual occurrence that a Targaryen princess such as yourself, walked along the dusty beach of dragonstone, in a fancy dress no less. You had wanted to clear your mind, you told yourself. But subconsciously, it might have had something to do with the sightings of a dragon near the beach the past few days.
Daemon had assigned a personal guard to you, to keep you safe. If the guard reported back to him on your doings, you did not know. But if he did, it wasnāt obvious. āPrincess, maybe we should turn back.ā Ser Steffon spoke, gulping as he hears the screams of terror as a dragon is sighted flying towards the beach.
āIf you want to return, you are welcome to do so Ser. I am staying.ā Claiming a dragon wasnt the first thing that crossed your mind, you simply wanted to stay at the beach. And unlike the small folk, you were not terrified of dragons. But yet as the dragon flew over you, and the thought of claiming it did cross your mind, a small tingle of terror did run over your spine before you shook it off. You are a targaryen, this is your birthright. You tell yourself. Donāt be scared of what is owed to you.
You speed up to the flat lands where you saw the dragon land. You hadnāt seen what dragon it was, you had only hoped it was seasmoke, or any other dragon that wasnāt as scary, in your mind, as the wild ones.
After Aemond claimed vhagar, you were left the only Targaryen without a mount. It broke your heart when your dragon didnāt hatch in OldTown. Now that you had this opportunity in front of you, you werenāt gonna let it go to waste.
Ser Steffon, however scared, did not turn away, and instead followed you. Ofcourse his pleadings to turn back never stopped, and neither did his murmurs: āPrince Daemon is going to kill me.ā
Now that you have the dragon in your full sight, you can finally see which one it is. You audibly gulp. āgrey ghost.ā, you whisper to yourself. It just had to be a wild dragon didnāt it?
You donāt let it deter you, slowly stepping closer. you were never taught High Valyrian in OldTown, you had only started learning with Rhaenyra when you first came to dragonstone. You hadnāt progressed far, so you tried your hardest to remember dragon commands. LykirÄ«, dohaerÄs, sÅvÄs, you recited over and over in your head as you stopped in front of Grey Ghost. He is a beautiful pale grey-white dragon, and if the stories were true, he blended in beautifully with the clouds.
It made sense that he was near the beach these past few days, according to the stories you had heard, Grey Ghost preferred fish.
āBeautifulā, you mumble to yourself, you were mesmerised.
āPrincess! Please get away from that beast!ā
You clench your jaw, āDragons are not beasts, Ser Steffon, they are beautiful creatures. If you do not wish to be here, you are free to leave!ā You yell at him over the wind.
You take small steps towards Grey Ghost, and he growls at you. āLykirÄ«, Grey Ghost, DohaerÄs!ā
You chant those two words over and over towards him, your hand held out as you step closer to his head. This is it, you think, this is the part where i get burned alive.
Eventually you step so close, your hand lands on his snout. āKostilusā you whisper, please.
Grey Ghost turns his head away. You move towards the length of his body, praying to the seven you wonāt get burned, or eaten.
You hear Ser Steffon running away, probably to fetch Daemon, or other guards. You dont know why, if this is when Grey Ghost decides to kill you, nobody would be able to stop it.
You slowly climb up, somewhat clumsily seeing as Grey Ghost has no saddle for you to climb up on, and youāre wearing a dress instead of the usual riding wear.
As you manoeuvre yourself on top, you settle down and let out a sigh of relief, It doesnt last long because youāre forced to lean forward and grab onto something, anything, as grey ghost moves. āLykirÄ«, Grey Ghost, sÅvÄs.ā
With that, Grey Ghost takes off. Once in the sky, its hard for you to not panic. Not only is Grey Ghost very fast and very excited, you are also flying at a great height without a saddle, or reigns to hold onto.
You hear a loud roar and suddenly a red dragon flies beside you, caraxes. A smile blossoms onto your face as you follow the length of the blood wyrms body til your eyes land on your husband.
Daemon smiles at you, as he leans back in his saddle and spreads his arm wide. Youād do the same, but you are nowhere near as skilled at riding a dragon as he is.
Your feet touch the ground as you dismount Grey Ghost. You spent an hour in the sky, flying around with Daemon, before he led you to the dragonmont.
In the sky it was fun, but you knew that now youāre on the ground, you were in for a scolding. And as you approach Daemon, the stern look on his face proves you right.
He meets you halfway, stands impossibly close to you, puts his hand on your waist to lock you in and places his head right beside yours. āDo you know how reckless and dangerous that was?ā
You sigh, but dont say anything to excuse yourself, because nothing will excuse it.
āIām sorry.ā
āAre you happy now? Did you get what you so desperately needed? you were even willing to risk your own life for it.ā
You say nothing, you dont move and you dont speak, you only avert your eyes downwards. Daemon notices and pulls back slightly. He puts his fingers under your chin and forces you to make eye contact with him again. He leans slightly forward, and presses his forehead against yours for nothing more of a nanosecond before pulling away again and walking off, leaving you standing there.
WEEEEEEEEE BETA WHO???? MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE ššš honored to be trusted to beta for you š«¶
"Hen lantoti Änogar. Va sȳndroti vÄedroma.ā [...]
THIS WHOLE SEQUENCE IS MY FAVORITE BECAUSE IT REMINDS ME OF MY FIC WAITING FOR A LIFETIME WHERR I USED THE VOWS THERE TOO AND UGHH ITS SO GOOD THE VOWS UGHHHHHH
"My sweet girl.." She turned to Larys. "Thank you for letting me know."
ššš alicent they could never make me hate you
Daemon had assigned a personal guard to you, to keep you safe. If the guard reported back to him on your doings, you did not know. But if he did, it wasnāt obvious.
Classic daemon. Fuck him (I mean the body guard š)
Ser Steffon, however scared, did not turn away, and instead followed you. Ofcourse his pleadings to turn back never stopped, and neither did his murmurs: āPrince Daemon is going to kill me.ā
PFFFFT.
STEFFON MAMA GIRL BEHIND YOUUU
He meets you halfway, stands impossibly close to you, puts his hand on your waist to lock you in and places his head right beside yours. āDo you know how reckless and dangerous that was?ā
No cuz I loved this scene it was so clear and dramatic in my head HAHAAHAHH
āAre you happy now? Did you get what you so desperately needed? you were even willing to risk your own life for it.ā
I love concerned Daemon. Give that man a heart attack ASAP
Thanks for the tag @marlowe-zara ! Itās long past due for a tag game update over here.
Last song: Steal the Show by Lauv (honorable mention for the kid getting into real music), Rushmore by Mumford and Sons
Favorite Color: always purple
Last Book: Little Thieves by Margaret Owen, it was a cute modern take on a fairy tale for YA audiences. I enjoyed the in-universe mythology and magic. Currently reading Everyone in my Family Has Killed Someone by Benjamin Stevenson
Last Audiobook: I like this addition as I often listen to books on roadtrips or when printmaking. My latest was The Hobbit read by Andy Serkis: he did such an excellent job on the voices like you would expect. (His Gandalf really made me double check if Ian McClellan had done a guest appearance!)
Last Movie: LotR The Two Towers EE (who even watches the theatrical cuts??) Can you see a theme here? Itās winter, so Iām getting cozy with my comfort fandom. And yes, I started with Fellowship.
Last TV Show: Finally finishing The Good Place
Sweet/Savory/Spicy: Iāve never turned good food down. But am lately very fond of making sourdough discard chocolate chip cookies that have butterfinger baking bits in them. Happy to share the recipe if folks ask.
Relationship: umā¦still in one?
Last Thing Iāve Googled: Iām over here googling birthday ideas for the kiddo and researching new bathroom cabinets. š³
Current Obsession: The Fall with Lee Pace and Catinca Untaru. I was finally able to stream this on Mubi in the US and if youāve never seen it, please pause your doom scrolling and go watch it right now. I sobbed on an airplane. And then immediately watched it again later in the week. And then immediately added all of the set locations to my travel list. I miss Lee Pace: he needs more roles because heās such an incredible actor.
Looking forward to: using my new bread cloche the next time I make a sourdough loaf, finishing Linkās Awakening finally and reading Democracy in Retrograde to brace myself for the next 4 years.
Iāll tag @windsweptinred @bobbole @elemen @writing-for-life and whoever else wants to share what theyāve been up to lately!
Last Book: The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson
Last Audiobook: After the Revolution by Robert Evans
Last Movie: uh... I think it was A Muppet's Christmas Carol
Last TV Show: latest season of Castlevania Nocturne
Sweet/Savory/Spicy: Yes, but I'm partial to sweet.
Relationship: Married like a nun is married to Jesus
Last Thing Iāve Googled: idk probably checking the spelling of something
Current Obsession: I've been getting the urge to play either BOTW or TOTK again and I can't not binge those games when I'm depressed, so that
Looking forward to: when the rest of my family gets over the flu they all have so I'm not sequestered to my room. Also for my seasonal depression to end so I can get out of bed and feel like a person again
Tagging: @sadundefinedbread @boykingscourt @pavlovianfuckery @deancaslover @sleepylattes and anyone else who wants to do this (0 pressure) ā¤ļø
Last Book: I actually haven't read anything new lately, so still Necroscope by Brian Lumley
Last Audiobook: don't really do audiobooks since reading by myself is faster and I'm impatient, but probably The Dresden Files, I do a full run through them once every couple of years
Last Movie: Nosferatu
Last TV Show: iZombie, still (I know, it's sad)
Sweet/Savory/Spicy: sweet, I have a huge sweet tooth but I do like spicy too
Relationship: will be 9 years this summer, so still going
Last Thing Iāve Googled: some stuff for the fic I'm currently writing
Current Obsession: *sigh* still on the Blaine-train and not sure how to get off of it
Looking forward to: Spring, sun! I want to not be peeling myself like a fucked up human banana anymore
tagging @americanwh0resstuff @careless-with-your-heart @nyxneon @msmongoose @duckland @roguelov @honeybeezgobzzzzz @anxiousmillenialhobo @adrenhelene and anyone else that wants to join!
Last Song: Ma Meileure Ennemie by Stromae and Pomme - Iāve been listening to the arcane soundtrack again and Iāve put this bop on repeat constantly
Favorite Color: dark green or a cool grey
Last Book: itās been a hot minute but I believe it was Circe by Madeline Miller but I didnāt finish it so I gotta do that
Last Audiobook: Fourth Wing - my sister and I created our own book club and are just gossiping over this right now
Last Movie: Interstellar
Last TV Show: The Flash - rewatching an old comfort show
Sweet/Savory/Spicy: major sweet tooth
Relationship: single all the way
Last Thing I Googled: voice actors for the fourth wing cuz I was determined one was a anime voice actor (wasnāt) and that the two man guys were voiced by the same dude (also not that case)
Current Obsession: well just bought those diamond art kits and Iām zoning out doing all of the small ones which is super relaxing and fun and I need to complete them all now
Looking Forward to: the weekend right now so I can chill and do more diamond art š and listen to the rest of this audiobook
Summary: cant think of one without spoiling everything š„²
Includes/warnings: hightower!reader, aegons twin. Y/N has been used on multiple occasions. There is an age gap in this (whatever daemons canon age is). Some high valyrian with translations, i am not fluent so ignore if it sucks.
šŖnotes: its been a while since iāve seen season 1 so please ignore any timeline mistakes. Daemyra does not exist in this. :)
Biggest thank you to my lovely hannah ( @just-some-random-blogger ) for beta-reading this <33
Ā« āI am not going back to Oldtown with you, uncle.ā Ā»
Ā« āThen where will you go?ā Ā»
Ā« āiāll be with rhaenyra.ā Ā»
Dragonstone ā Near the beaches...
Less than six months later, after the incident at Driftmark, a new act would rattle the court.
As per the ancient customs of House Targaryen, Daemon and his niece, you, had arranged a ceremony on the beaches of Dragonstone to perform a Valyrian rite, which was attended by Rhaenyra, her children, Jace, Luke, Joffrey, and Daemonās children, Baela, and Rhaena, along with Rhaenyra's maester, Gerardys.Ā
The wedding ceremony was to be solemnized by a High Priest, who worshipped the Old Gods of Valyria, and was brought in by both Targaryen royals. However, due to the tragic event of the Doom that destroyed the Valyrian Freehold and their civilization, very little information or records remained about the long-forgotten religion, except that the Targaryen dragons were named after gods from the ancient pantheon worshipped throughout Old Valyria's vast empire.Ā
Their faith was practiced for thousands of years before being greatly diminished. It was a momentous occasion for the family, steeped in tradition and history, as they honored their heritage and celebrated the union of two of its members.
You, dressed in the traditional garments, looked back at everyone. This marriage was performed suddenly without the knowledge of your father, mother or siblings. They were not in attendanceā a deep shame. You had hoped that they would be there to support you.Ā
You never wanted to be wed, you linked it with childbirth and after the late queen Aemma, and Daemonās late wife, Laena; it scared you to no end. Your thoughts drift back to the day you and Daemon arrived at Dragonstone, and he had made the proposal.Ā
Ā« āIf you don't want Alicent to have any control over you anymore, you must wed me. A womanās place is beside her husband. She couldnāt deny that.ā Ā»
Ā« āI do not wish to be wed, Daemonā to sit around as a broodmare, my only purpose to produce heirs until I end like...ā Ā»
Ā« " I know you are frightened, but I won't let anything happen to you.ā Ā»
Proceeding with the wedding, you and Daemon cut your hands and lips with dragonglass, mixed your blood in a ceremonial chalice, and marked Valyrian glyphs in blood on your foreheads.
"Hen lantoti Änogar. Va sȳndroti vÄedroma.ā Blood of two. Joined as one. the High Priest prayed in High Valyrian. "MÄro perzot gÄ«hoti. ElÄdroma iÄrza sÄ«r. IzulÄ« ampÄ perzÄ«. PrÅ«mÄ« lanti sÄteksi. Hen jenȳ mÄzÄ«larion. QÄlossa ozÅ«ndesi. Sȳndroro ÅñŠjÄdo. Rȳ kÄ«via mazvestraksi.ā Ghostly flame. And song of shadows. Two hearts as embers. Forged in fourteen fires. A future promised in glass. The stars stand witness. The vow spoken through time. Of darkness and light.
"A perversion of justice," Larys commented. "The young Prince Aemond... defiled. An outrage."
"Indeed," Alicent replied. Since her father took control of her influence, the instructions were left relatively straightforward. Her position as Queen Consort was in dire jeopardy.
"If it's an eye you want to balance the scales, I am your servant."
"Don't bother. Even if Rhaenyra's bastards are mere pushovers, she and daemon are another matter entirely. So even if I wanted to, such actions would only bring further unnecessary trouble. But your devotion has not gone unnoticed."
"These are dangerous times."
"The day will doubtless come when House Hightower will require such a friend. With not only skill but discretion as well."
"I shall await your call, my queen. However..." Larys passed on a note. "It's come to my attention that a certain young princess has done the unthinkable, Your Grace."
Alicent raised a curious eyebrow and examined the note. Her eyes traced the handwriting intricately. When she finally realized what Larys's spies had uncovered, the queen couldn't help but gulp. "My sweet girl.." She turned to Larys. "Thank you for letting me know."
After the wedding, there was no bedding ceremony. As much as daemon had wanted to bed you, he knew it was not something you wanted yet, still far to scared of your duties as wife. Only you two would know that secret, to anyone else you had consummated.
You had avoided daemon after that night, trying your hardest to not speak to him, or to avoid his presence altogether. Having never been close with him beforehand, you didnāt know what to talk to him about. If you werenāt being a wife, what else should you be doing? You did not know.
The small folk and the fishermen looked up in confusion as you passed them, it wasnt a usual occurrence that a Targaryen princess such as yourself, walked along the dusty beach of dragonstone, in a fancy dress no less. You had wanted to clear your mind, you told yourself. But subconsciously, it might have had something to do with the sightings of a dragon near the beach the past few days.
Daemon had assigned a personal guard to you, to keep you safe. If the guard reported back to him on your doings, you did not know. But if he did, it wasnāt obvious. āPrincess, maybe we should turn back.ā Ser Steffon spoke, gulping as he hears the screams of terror as a dragon is sighted flying towards the beach.
āIf you want to return, you are welcome to do so Ser. I am staying.ā Claiming a dragon wasnt the first thing that crossed your mind, you simply wanted to stay at the beach. And unlike the small folk, you were not terrified of dragons. But yet as the dragon flew over you, and the thought of claiming it did cross your mind, a small tingle of terror did run over your spine before you shook it off. You are a targaryen, this is your birthright. You tell yourself. Donāt be scared of what is owed to you.
You speed up to the flat lands where you saw the dragon land. You hadnāt seen what dragon it was, you had only hoped it was seasmoke, or any other dragon that wasnāt as scary, in your mind, as the wild ones.
After Aemond claimed vhagar, you were left the only Targaryen without a mount. It broke your heart when your dragon didnāt hatch in OldTown. Now that you had this opportunity in front of you, you werenāt gonna let it go to waste.
Ser Steffon, however scared, did not turn away, and instead followed you. Ofcourse his pleadings to turn back never stopped, and neither did his murmurs: āPrince Daemon is going to kill me.ā
Now that you have the dragon in your full sight, you can finally see which one it is. You audibly gulp. āgrey ghost.ā, you whisper to yourself. It just had to be a wild dragon didnāt it?
You donāt let it deter you, slowly stepping closer. you were never taught High Valyrian in OldTown, you had only started learning with Rhaenyra when you first came to dragonstone. You hadnāt progressed far, so you tried your hardest to remember dragon commands. LykirÄ«, dohaerÄs, sÅvÄs, you recited over and over in your head as you stopped in front of Grey Ghost. He is a beautiful pale grey-white dragon, and if the stories were true, he blended in beautifully with the clouds.
It made sense that he was near the beach these past few days, according to the stories you had heard, Grey Ghost preferred fish.
āBeautifulā, you mumble to yourself, you were mesmerised.
āPrincess! Please get away from that beast!ā
You clench your jaw, āDragons are not beasts, Ser Steffon, they are beautiful creatures. If you do not wish to be here, you are free to leave!ā You yell at him over the wind.
You take small steps towards Grey Ghost, and he growls at you. āLykirÄ«, Grey Ghost, DohaerÄs!ā
You chant those two words over and over towards him, your hand held out as you step closer to his head. This is it, you think, this is the part where i get burned alive.
Eventually you step so close, your hand lands on his snout. āKostilusā you whisper, please.
Grey Ghost turns his head away. You move towards the length of his body, praying to the seven you wonāt get burned, or eaten.
You hear Ser Steffon running away, probably to fetch Daemon, or other guards. You dont know why, if this is when Grey Ghost decides to kill you, nobody would be able to stop it.
You slowly climb up, somewhat clumsily seeing as Grey Ghost has no saddle for you to climb up on, and youāre wearing a dress instead of the usual riding wear.
As you manoeuvre yourself on top, you settle down and let out a sigh of relief, It doesnt last long because youāre forced to lean forward and grab onto something, anything, as grey ghost moves. āLykirÄ«, Grey Ghost, sÅvÄs.ā
With that, Grey Ghost takes off. Once in the sky, its hard for you to not panic. Not only is Grey Ghost very fast and very excited, you are also flying at a great height without a saddle, or reigns to hold onto.
You hear a loud roar and suddenly a red dragon flies beside you, caraxes. A smile blossoms onto your face as you follow the length of the blood wyrms body til your eyes land on your husband.
Daemon smiles at you, as he leans back in his saddle and spreads his arm wide. Youād do the same, but you are nowhere near as skilled at riding a dragon as he is.
Your feet touch the ground as you dismount Grey Ghost. You spent an hour in the sky, flying around with Daemon, before he led you to the dragonmont.
In the sky it was fun, but you knew that now youāre on the ground, you were in for a scolding. And as you approach Daemon, the stern look on his face proves you right.
He meets you halfway, stands impossibly close to you, puts his hand on your waist to lock you in and places his head right beside yours. āDo you know how reckless and dangerous that was?ā
You sigh, but dont say anything to excuse yourself, because nothing will excuse it.
āIām sorry.ā
āAre you happy now? Did you get what you so desperately needed? you were even willing to risk your own life for it.ā
You say nothing, you dont move and you dont speak, you only avert your eyes downwards. Daemon notices and pulls back slightly. He puts his fingers under your chin and forces you to make eye contact with him again. He leans slightly forward, and presses his forehead against yours for nothing more of a nanosecond before pulling away again and walking off, leaving you standing there.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."
Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, violence, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: my mum and i got into an argument after my cat died and now i remember why i wrote this | cross posted on ao3
@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @astrogirl01
You walk across the dragon pit, making your way back to Laenor, who was petting his mount. "Hello."
He turns and smiles, "hello. He watches how you pick the petals of the flowers he gave, "where's-"
Before he can finish, the sound of a dragon screeching and soaring of echoes across the pit. His own dragon huffs and bleats, making you turn to it.
"What's the name of your mount?"
Leanor looks at you as you near the beast, "Seasmokeā eh," he dashes in front of you, "careful," he takes your arm, "he's not hostile, I don't think, but then again, he's my ride and I'm biased. Regardless, Seasmoke is, in fact, a dragon."
"Ah," you step back, "forgive me, I-"
"Found yourself very comfortable around Caraxes?" Leanor smiles at me, rubbing your arm, "I'm surprised. The wyrm is rather cranky..." he leads me to his dragon, "not unlike his rider, no?"
Your eyes remain on him as Seasmoke screeches. The dragon sounds nothing like Caraxes, neither does he look or even smell the same, which you think is rather interesting.
"You may touch him if you like," Laenor smiles, stroking his dragon's scales. Seasmoke purrs, almost like a cat.
You rub your hands before touching the beast, "rytsas." Hello.
Laenor's brows quirk.
"Skorkydoso gaomagon gaomÄ?" How do you do?
He chuckles, "when did you learn High Valyrian?"
"While you and Daemon were in the St-" you squeal when Seasmoke shoves you with a roar, earning an equal reaction from his rider. Laenor snaps and swats his ride, commanding him to obey, to be gentle.
Your heart races and continues to against yourself. You clutch your chest, feeling a telltale uncomfortable tightening. Gods, please, not in front of Laenor.
You vaguely hear him chide the dragon for being cheeky in High Valyrian, and you suppose he says something to you, but your lungs are too constricted for you to hear. For a moment, as you feel your legs begin to buckle under the weight of your breath, or rather, lack thereof, you realize you were treating Seasmoke awfully familiarly. He gave you a simple correction, and now your weak heart was going to make him look like a villain.
"Apologies forā prin-" Laenor grunts as he catches you just as you topple. You crumble into his chest and drop your flowes. You both end up on the floor as you try to catch your breath.
Laenor looks around. He orders the dragon keepers to bring his ride to the pit and he pulls you into his arms, "can you stand?"
Stand? You can barely breathe.
Your silence, paired with the tangible tremors of your body, is enough answer for him. He maneuvers around you, arms wrapping over your form. His stomach drops at the greyness of your skin, but he tells himself he's merely imagined it. He quickly carries you out of the pit.
Alternatively, Daemon is idle in the sky. The sun beats down on his skin as the wind scratches through his hair. There is no thrill in it however, no reprieve. What's more, Caraxes seems to stagger halfway through the flight. The usual agility of his lithe body dwindles the longer they fly, and his rider is rightfully concerned. He turns back before they go very far.
When they arrive at the pit, Seasmoke is no longer there. Daemon is alarmed by the way Caraxes lands. It's not at all like his usual demeanor. He drips into saddle and yelps when Caraxes flops and crashesbelly down on the ground. The dragon keepers are as equally concerned as Daemon upon witnessing this.
Daemon dismounts and gazes upon his mount. One of the senior keepers asks him, "skoros iksis pirta lÄda Caraxes, Ʊuha dÄrilaros??" What is wrong with Caraxes, my prince?
"Nyke ȳdra daor gīmigon," Daemon mutters, "ziry massitas hen daoriot." I don't know. It happened out of nowhere.
The prince watches as one keeper brushes Caraxes by the snout. The dragon huffs and closes his eyes, rolling on his belly. Daemon's brows furrow tightly and his lips part. This was severely unlike his vicious mountā falling prostrate? He was deeply concerned.
Daemon explains to the keeper that his dragon was well earlier today, in the funeral, and when they just got back from it. It was only after they had flown again did Caraxes begin to act rather dreary.
The keepers try to feed Caraxes but he does not eat. They try to bring him into the pit, but he does not stand. It troubles Daemon. He does not wish to leav, but as much as his heart aches for his companion, it bleeds for you.
"Laenor."
Laenor freezes upon hearing your voice. He had already managed to carry you halfway towards the maester's ward when you regained your voice. He looks at you, brows furrowing at the sight of the tears you'd silently shed. He speaks your name.
"Will you set me down?"
Laenor nods and slowly brings you to your feet. You wobble against the young prince and lean your weight into him as you find your footing. You shudder, struggling to keep yourself upright. A shameful heat wraps around your body. I hate to have you see me like this.
"Hush," Laenor mutters, guiding you to the window sill.
You look up at him, brows furrowing.
"Are we not friends?" he tilts his head, "do friends not help friends?"
Gods... you had said that aloud. You were losing yourself. You shake your head, "yes, but-"
"But what?" Laenor purses his lips, "but if I could not find the strength to stand, surely you would do all you could to help me."
You frown.
He follows suit as you sit by the window. He squeezes your arm, "it's just me, the same Laenor you wrote heartfelt letters to."
Your brows furrow. You gulp as your throat tightens, "I never wrote to you about my affliction."
He shrugs, taking your hand in his, "it is your prerogative what you do and do not wish to tell me."
"I am dying."
He does not respond.
"I'm already dead inside."
He hums, "how macabre," he looks off, "I was rather hoping you'd bring up something more mundane, like how the drapes in these halls are rather plain, considering the fact we are in the capital castle."
You stare at him for a moment.
He looks back at you, "it's safe to say the king cares little for drapes."
You snort and shake your head.
A faint smile spreads across Laenor's lips. He squeezes your hand, "I suppose that is good. A king has much more to worry about than the drapes that drape across his halls."
You release a deep breath. The heaviness of your shoulders become apparent to you. You tentatively lean into Laenor's shoulder; he shifts towards you, offering his arm.
"You hark aimlessly so like my twin."
He steals a glance of you, lips curling into a soft smile, "you speak this as if you believe it would offend me."
"It should."
He chuckles and examines the texture of the wall in front of him, "to be likened to Ser Gwayne is an honor."
You snort and roll your eyes, "it should not be. He is ugly."
"He has your face."
"He does not!" you pull away to look at him, "pray tell, do you think I am comely?"
Laenor looks at you. He purses his lips where yours curl mischeviously.
You raise your brows and snort, "my point exactly."
"Your beauty is simply not to my taste."
"But my brother's is?!" you exclaim, "he has my face!"
Laenor rolls his eyes, "he does not."
You swat his arm.
He raises a brow at you, pretending to be offended, though it barely lasts. He instantly melts at the sight of your smile. He smiles back, "I am glad to know banter livens your spirit."
Your expression softens, "I am glad to know you will be living here."
"Yes. Perhaps initially. You might soon find me irritating like mine own sister does."
You share a chuckle. You shake your head and come to a stand; the prince immediately does the same. You link arms with him and begin walking, "might I show you the gardens, my prince?"
He thinks for a moment, "should you not go to the maester's?"
"They have nothing for me but scolding and milk of the poppy," you tighten your hold on his arm, "the roses are in full bloom."
He nods, "very well."
You saunter to the gardens with no sense of urgency whatsoever. Laenor is good at concealing his worry over you, but unfortunately, you are better at sensing other's agitation over your affliction. You fill the walk with hushed chatter, "you cannot like my brother more than I. I wish to hold your affection."
Laenor turns to you, brow raised, muttering, "you hold my affection."
"Yes, but you've not met him, yet still you prefer him," you whisper.
He looks away, shrugging, "I think he is pretty but I do not prefer him. If I recall correctly, he drank much during someone's nameday and became rather less pretty to me."
You chortle.
Laenor chuckles, turning back to you.
You look at him, thinkinv his eyes are very kind. Your smile turns into a frown as you squeeze his arm, "where were you when they were forcing me into marriage?"
His jaw feathers. He rubs your hand, "you do not want me as a husband. I would not satisfy you."
"I would not ask you to."
He shakes his head, "I do not think I would be able to give you heirs."
You tighten your hold on him, "I do not think I would either."
He frowns, "I-"
"Daughter."
The two of turn back, finding the Hand of the King rushing towards you. Normally, such a sight would cause you concern, but presently, it made you feel only exhaustion... and dread. You pull away from Laenor, preparing to face your father.
You huff when Otto reaches you. The first thing he does is place a hand on your cheek, "are you well?"
You frown and nod, "yes."
"The servants say your husband left you in the pit and your affliction flared. Prince Laenor," he offers him a glance, "had to carry you off."
"I am fine," you mutter, shaking your head, pushing him away.
He lowers his hand, "have you gone to the ma-"
"I'm bringing my friend to the gardens, father."
Otto stiffens. Laenor notices the way Otto's hands clench; he clears his throat, "she has told me pl-"
"Forgive me, my prince, but it would be best if my daughter goes to-"
"The gardens," you blurt, "to show my friend my flowers."
Your father mutters your name.
Laenor knows the argument is quickly going to inflame. He steps forward, "the princess assured me she is well enoughā"
"She is not well," Otto blurts, "she just burned her children and fainted in the pit-"
"Why do you despise me?"
Laenor stiffens where he meant to take your arm. Otto altogether loses his words.
You huff at his terse expression. You clench your teeth and turn to Laenor, "perhaps I ought to show you my garden another time."
The prince furrows his brows. He mutters your name slowly.
You shake your head and manage a smile, "perhaps after supper?"
Though he was rather reluctant to leave you in the thick of it, Laenor nods. He squeezes your arm one last time and gives your father a curt nod, "Lord Hand," before walking off.
"Have you gone mad?"
You turn to Otto. He is seething with rage.
"You would speak so carelessly in front of-"
"My frien-"
"He is not your friend," he blurts, stepping forward, "today? Tomorrow? He is promised to Rhaenyra and-"
"He is my friend!" you interrupt. "And my question does not involve him but you, my lord." You shake your head, "why do you despise me?"
He scoffs. He feels his collar tighten around his neck, "you think I despise you?"
"No," you mutter, "I know you do."
He scoffs once more and wipes his face with a sigh, "you stupid, fucking girl."
You feel like you're drowning as tears stream down your face. Your father paces and you gasp when he suddenly walks off. You watch him take large strides, only to stop at the end of the hall to turn back to you. Your heart races when he storms back with a finger pointed at you.
You gulp and step back, but you do not trust your feet to take you very far, so you end up freezing in your spot.
"You are ludicrous!" he pokes the air, "and you are wrong!" he pokes again, face red as he comes back in front of you.
You shudder when he grabs your shoulders and shakes you slightly.
"Despise you?!" he snaps, spittle spattering to your face. He releases you roughly, his chest rising and falling, "you unwitting pup! You've no idea the measures I've gone to ens-"
"DOES IT MATTER?"
Otto clenches his teeth so hard his head shakes.
Your outburst costs you all the air in your lungs. You care little to chase after it, "you fed me to your enemy! Left me to die!"
"I HAVE DONE NOTHING BUT PRESERVE YOU!" he screams, loud enough that his voice echoes in the hall.
Your ears ring and your struggle to breathe.
"Out of all my children," Otto's voice comes out shaky, "I have not lost sleep and coin as much as I have for you."
You manage to reply through the thrumming of your chest, "then you have your answer."
Otto's face hardens as he screws his eyes shut and shakes his head. He wipes both hands across his face in exasperation, "I do not despise you."
"Look at what's become of me," you bring your fists into your chest. You chuckle dryly, "perhaps if you despised me more, I would be better."
"All I've ever done is to better you!"
"Like how you forced me to bear children?!" You quip, "my body could not keep them!"
"If you did not do this, you would have been casted out or killed!" he raises a finger, "you did your duty."
"I did what you wanted-" you groan, "AND IT IS NEVER ENO-"
"ENOUGH!" he snaps and you flinch. Otto grabs your arm, "you are hysterical."
Hysterical. You wince at his tight grip. How you loathe the word. Though you knew it was pointless, you still attempt to wrangle out of his strong clutch.
Even in his vehement vexation, he does not force you to stop. He loosens his grip, speaking your name.
"Release me," you mutter, heart racing.
"No," he mutters, "you need a maester."
You whimper and yank at your arm, "father."
His stomach rolls. For a moment, he hears the voice of his young child begging for his presence. His grips tightens, "let me bring you to-"
"I hate you!"
Otto clenches his jaw. He mutters your name.
"You will not let me be happy. You will not let me die."
He shouts your name.
"Release me!" you whimper, begging to feel light headed.
Finally, he does.
You gasp when you topple into a wall. You are shocked when arms come around you. You turn, breath staggering, eyes meeting the hard face of your husband.
"If you ever touch her," Daemon mutters, hands clutching your waist and arm. He pulls you into him, "if I even hear that you touched her- nyke hobrenka kivigon jaehossi uÄpossi arlȳssÄ«-" I fucking swear by the old gods and the newā
You can feel him trembling against you. You will yourself to breathe in deep to try and calm yourself. Your hand comes to his cheek.
Otto draws breath, "my daughter is-"
"Do NOT fucking call her that," Daemon snaps as he pushes you upright only to bring you behind him. His hand clutches the hilt of Dark Sister, "it matters not who sired herā she is my wife."
"She needs medicine," Otto blurts raising a hand, "she is in hyster-"
"Of fucking course she's in hysterics!" Daemon growls and steps forward, "you're her fucking fatherā"
The Hand scoffs.
"ā It's a miracle she's withstood the poison you've been sledging into her throat since gods know when. You're the reason she's fucking sick-"
"DO NOT," Otto barks, "speak to me of herā"
"Daemon!" you grab his arm as Daemon presses closer to him.
"IvestragÄ« nyke ossÄnagon zirȳla!" Daemon barks, eyes fixed on Otto. Let me kill him!
He repeats this twice, leaving you in a fit of tears. The sound of your staggered cries is the only reason he stays his hand.
Otto watches as you crumple into Daemon's arms. He feels helpless to see the monster clutch your cheeks and hold you close. He can see you struggle for air, and it makes his own breath hitch. He feels an overwhelming sense of horror overcome him.
Daemon's brows furrow as you shake your head. He wipes your tears before carrying you and walking away.
Otto stands there, balked, torn, angered, hurt, resentful, tormented. He watches the devil usher you deeper into his hell.
"Maester?" Daemon mutters as he hurries down the hall.
You shake your head.
He makes a sound, "are you certain?"
His throat tightens as you grip his collar, tugging it ever so slightly. You shake your head, "bed."
He nods, heading to your chambers.
When you arrive, Daemon is quick to sit you upon your bed, leaning you on the headboard. He removes your shoes and undoes the braids in your hair. He is gentle, far gentler than anyone who has ever touched your hair.
His face is grave when your tears do not cease. He notices that your breathing is still heavy and ragged. Images of the day you nearly died flash in his mind's eye. He stops undoing your hair and takes your hand, kneeling beside you on the bed. His eyes begin to water, "you must breathe."
You groan and turn away from him, pulling your hand with you. You strangle out, "it is difficult."
Daemon whimpers, kicking his shoes off. He climbs on the bed and sits beside you. He rubs your chest and leans on your shoulder. He cannot help himself; he kisses your neck, "please-"
"Daemon."
"I- I-"
You grab his wrist and shake your head again.
He clenches his jaw as you lower his arm to your lap.
"I can do it."
He gulps and nods slowly.
You inhale deeply and exhale slowly.
Daemon squeezes your hand. He is restless.
"When I dieā"
"Stop-"
"ā you cannot kill him."
He makes a terrible sound. He shakes his head, "do not speak to me of this."
"I must," you squeeze him, "he deserves to suffer me, to flinch each time my name is spoken."
"Do not die to spite your father," Daemon grunts, "spite him with your life."
You close your eyes and sigh, "and what if I do not want to live?"
You gasp when you hear him whine. Daemon crumbles into your lap. He squeezes your hands tightly, "speak no further... I beg you."
You look down at him. Your heart aches. You sigh and brush his hair, "I would not kill myself. You know this."
He turns his head, one eye peeping up at you, "am I supposed to be comforted?"
"Yes," you blurt, "be sure that when I pass, it is my time."
Daemon sits up, "and what if he kills you?"
You sigh. You take a moment to calm yourself before reaching for his face. He instantly presses his hand over yours and leans into your touch. You rub his wet cheeks, "my father would not kill me."
"Yet he does."
You feel Daemon clench his jaw.
"Slowly... subtly."
You lean your head back. You whimper at the feel of the braids that were still not undone. You pull away from Daemon to undo them yourself. He's about to help you, but then you mutter, "get me shears."
"... why?"
"I do not wish to fashion my hair ever again."
He looks at you for a moment before standing. He heads to your vanity and quickly finds what he is looking for. He reluctantly hands it to you and you gratefully take it.
He watches you undo your hair wholly and bring it to one side. You bunch your dark strands together and haphazardly try to cut it. You cannot, your hair is too thick and the blades too dull; it barely cut parchment. Still, here you were trying to cut your hair. Daemon is silent as you do.
You grow frustrated and look at him, finding his eyes are fixed upon your tresses. Your eyes water, "am I hysterical?"
Violet eyes meet your glassy ones. He strokes your head, "you are my wife."
You grip the sheers tightly before lowering it.
Daemon frowns, "did you not enjoy my braids?
"I-" you stare at the shears, "that is not why."
"... would you like me to help you?"
"No," you look up at him, handing him the metal object, "I am hysterical."
"Do not listen to that cunt," he takes the shears from you, putting it back in its place. You watch him crawl beside you again. He takes your hand and frowns, "you are far tamer than you ought to be."
You raise your brows at his words. You reciprocate his hold and rub your thumb against his skin, "you would feed my madness."
He gazes at your sad face and shrugs, "we could be mad together."
You chuckle.
His heart skips. He squeezes your hand.
"You mean to tell me you aren't yet mad?"
Daemon dares to lean into you.
You do not pull away when he rests his head upon your shoulder.
He whispers, "no."
You feel him bring your hand to his chest. You feel him kiss your hand.
"You are my sanity."
You feel him kiss your neck. You shudder.
Daemon is entranced by your scent. He soon has his hands brushing around your torso, pulling you close to him. He breathes you in like air, because you were his. He buries his face into your hair. Gods, he's missed this. Gods, he's missed you.
You close your eyes and sigh, palms brushing up his shoulders. He takes this as permission to kiss you more, so he does. He peppers his lips across your skin, down your throat, across your neck. He clutches you into his chest, willing you into his ribcage. You gulp and melt into him with a sigh.
The sound encourages him. He pulls you down to bed as if you were weightless. Your skirt hikes up in consequence, and he hisses when he repositions you and feels the bareness of your thigh.
Daemon breaks the kiss, panting like a dog as he examines your from. He gulps, mind reeling at the skin your dress no longer concealed. He remembers what you told him in the garden, how you no longer loved him. He slowly withdraws his hand, feeling it trembld.
You watch as he battles with himself. You dig your fingers into his collar, urging him to look at you.
He does, pupils blown. Your name slips past his parted mouth.
You rub his shoulder, "do you want me?"
"Fuck," he laughs manically, "d-do I want you?"
Goosebumps prick on your skin as he rubs up your thigh. You feel your breathing heavy as his nails dig into the flesh of your hip.
He draws a deep breath and whispers, not trusting his voice, "I want you."
You huff and close your eyes. Your tug his top and part your legs.
"Fuuuuuuck," Daemon whines through a sigh, sinking his head into your neck as he slots himself between you. He curses again when he hears you whimpe. He wraps your thighs around him.
He bucks into you. His teeth nip your jaw. Your nails scratch up his nape and tug his short hair. Your eyes water.
Daemon could peak from this alone.
You mutter his name.
He moans and squeezes your thigh in response.
You whimper as you feel his erection against your core. Your lips wobble. You press your face against his and whisper, "I'll let you put a babe in me again."
Daemon turns to stone.
You begin to breath heavily again.
His voice is muffled, "what?"
"I said I'll let you put a babe in me again."
He lifts his head. His eyes are reddish and his brows are furrowed. Little did you know you mirrored him, if not worse. You were crying, and you couldn't even feel it.
"And then w-hat?" his voice cracks.
You clutch his cheeks.
"And then you die?"
You brush his chin. You cannot reply.
He chokes on your name and screws his eyes shut. He buries his face into your neck and shakes his head. He sinks into you, but he's no longer hard, just sad and desperate.
"... if gods be willing... I'd have a reason to live."
"I am unwilling to gamble."
You lean into his head, "it's always a gamble, affliction or not."
Daemon lifts his head and looks down upon you. He rubs your cheeks frantically as he says your name. He mutters, "I do not even have you yet. Do not be so eager to leave me."
You close your eyes, relishing the feel of his thumbs on your face.
He kisses your forehead, "give me a chance. Please."
You sigh, "I'm exhausted."
His hand trembles, "please."
Your brows furrow.
He examines your face restlessly, brushing your skin in hopes it will coax the answer he wants.
"I'll try."
He breathes a sharp sigh of relief. He kisses the corner of your mouth, "thank you."
āHe does not wish to leave. But as much as his heart aches for his companion, it bleeds for you.ā
And otto, i have such mixed feelings about him in this story š„² youāre playing with me, i cant decide if he loves reader and cares or heās like ālet it dieā
BUT THE DAEMON MOMENTS ARE MY FAVORITE, THE WAY HE YEARNS FOR US AND SPEAKS TO US. HANNAH THE WRITER YOU ARE