REMI

Readers gender isn't specifically stated

Warnings: death, violence, Daemon is kind of a jerk, Caraxes survives

Summary: During The Battle Above The Gods Eye, Daemon kills Aemond and falls from Vhagars back, welcoming the sweet embrace of death. Reader, who had been watching from below the surface, saves him from drowning.

The God's Eye was on fire.

The sky above Harrenhal had darkened with smoke and ash, filled with the wounded wails of the two dragons. You watched from the shaded, cool depths of the lake, your webbed hands gripping a jagged rock just below the surface.

You weren't exactly sure who you wanted to win. You knew who they were from listening to sailors and fishermen who passed through. Aemond Targaryen, the one eyed prince, rode Vhagar. Vhagar was the larger of the two, desperately snapping her jaws at Caraxes.

Caraxes had managed to latch onto her neck, his wings beating uselessly against her side. Daemon Targaryen rode Caraxes. You had heard of his exploits in the Stepstones, though they did little to impress you.

Leaping from the saddle of Caraxes, he drove the Valyrian steel blade Dark Sister straight through the remaining eye of his nephew.

And fell.

A sickening crash shook the lake as Vhagar and Caraxes slammed into the water. The impact sent shockwaves through the depths, blinding you for a moment. Instantly, the water began to churn violently. The blood of dragons—thick, black, and boiling—poured into the God’s Eye.

You hissed, diving deeper to escape the sudden, scalding wave. Through the murky, bubbling crimson current, you saw the tragic sight of Caraxes. The Blood Wyrm was mangled, his beautiful, elongated neck twisted in agony. He let out a muffled, underwater screech, his massive wings churning the boiling lake as he dragged himself toward the distant shore.

But your attention was quickly pulled away from the dragon. A heavy, armored form was sinking rapidly into the abyss. It was Daemon.

He was unconscious, bubbles escaping his lips as his heavy armor dragged him down into the dark, cold depths where the boiling water couldn’t reach. Without thinking, you kicked your tail, cutting through the water.

You reached him just as he was slipping into the crushing blackness of the lake’s floor. Wrapping your arms around his chest, you gasped slightly at the weight of him. His armor was cold, an almost painful contrast to the water above.

Swinging your tail, you pulled him upward, steering clear of the pockets of scalding dragon blood. You broke the surface near a secluded cove, far from the burning wreckage. Dragging him onto a smooth, flat rock, you pressed your hands against his chest, pumping the water from his lungs. Daemon coughed violently, vomiting up a mixture of lake water and blood. His violet eyes snapped open, wild and disoriented. He instantly reached for a sword that wasn't there, his fingers clawing at the air.

"Peace," you hummed softly, injecting a sliver of your siren's thrall into your voice to soothe his racing heart. Daemon blinked through the wet silver hair plastered to his face. He looked at you, his gaze tracking from your face down to where your skin shimmered with iridescent scales. A rough, breathless laugh scratched past his throat.

"Am I dead?" he rasped, his voice sounding like crushed gravel. "Have the Gods sent a sea-bitch to ferry me to the Seven Hells?"

"You live, Daemon Targaryen," you replied, leaning closer, unbothered by his sharp tongue. "Though by all rights, you should be fish feed. You jumped from a dragon."

"I killed the boy," Daemon muttered, his eyes rolling back slightly as exhaustion threatened to pull him under again. He tried to sit up, groaning in agony as his ribs protested. "Caraxes... where is..."

"He survives," you interrupted gently, placing a hand on his cheek to force him to look at you. "He is grievously wounded, but he crawled ashore. He lives. But you will not, if you keep moving."

Daemon stared at you. The siren's song in your voice was keeping the shock from killing him, and he knew it. He leaned a fraction of an inch into your cold touch, a grim, roguish smirk forcing its way onto his pale lips. "A siren," he whispered, his violet eyes dark with a sudden, intense fascination. "I have conquered the sky, and yet I crash into the domain of a monster."

"I just saved your life, prince," you murmured, tilting your head, a sharp, fanged smile playing on your lips. "Careful who you call a monster." Daemon let out a weak chuckle, his eyes heavy. "If death looks like you... I should have leaped from my saddle years ago."

Before he could say another word, his strength failed him, and he blacked out, his head resting against your lap. You ran your fingers through his silver hair, looking out over the smoking lake.

You contemplated leaving him to die, or maybe sinking your fangs into the warm skin of his throat. However, whatever compelled you to save him, frustrangingly refused to let you. He was handsome, that much was undeniable. His face was slightly wrinkled with age, and you wondered how many scars covered his back.