The letter and necklace was all he had left of his beloved wife. His treacherous Daenys.

She was close to her labours; he could feel it. Deep in his bones, he knew the second he took his nephew's life, his beautiful lady had borne their child. The babe he couldn't yet see.

Ser Criston and The Queen Mother watched as he threw his cup at the wall, angry and inconsolable. Alicent winced, yet knew there were things to be done.

Aemond tugged at the sapphire pendant he had slung around his neck. “Not until I have my wife!”

“You already spilt enough blood as it is. They are coming for us.” Alicent challenged, itching to scratch at the skin surrounding her nails.

“I have told you, twas an accident", Aemond reasoned, nearly faltering in his step. Then, glancing at the doors that were drawn open by Grand Maester Orwyle. The man seemed to be pained by the news on his tongue. The Knight and the Queen Mother turned to him. "What?!"

“My Prince.” Maester Orwyle stepped forward with Otto Hightower in tow. The Lord was anxious as he closed the doors behind them. Orwyle glanced at the others in the room, bowing his head at Alicent, "Your Grace."

“What?!” Aemond angrily repeated, stopping his pacing.

“Ravens have reported, you have a daughter, my Prince. Her mother named —“ The Maester was quickly cut off by the erratic Prince.

“A daughter? I have a daughter.” Aemond's grip almost softened at the declaration.

Father to a daughter. A girl. His mind swarm with questions as his family took in the news.

“I have another grandchild. Gods bless the Mother.” Alicent breathed out.

“Yes, Lady Laena Targeryen.” The Maester confirmed the name.

Otto nodded, “A suitable name.” 

“An appropriate name for a Targaryen heir.”

“Does she favour her mother? The boys? Baelon is the darker of the two. Like Daenys. Does she favour her radiance?” Aemond stepped closer, crossing his mother.

Orwyle hesitantly looked between mother and son, then uttered, “Reports detailed the girl’s plumpness and radiance, my Prince.”

“How lovely.” Alicent marvelled, though, and knew there had to be more.

“And the health of the mother? How is my wife? Does the report detail her physical recovery?” Aemond pressed on.

Otto hummed in agreement, “It would be wise for her to return to her lord husband. With their children.”

The door was pulled open, and in walked Aegon. The newly crowned King wondered why members of his family were all whispering and gathering around. He knew it had to be down to the escape of his sister-in-law and his nephews, though he thought that would be tackled another day at least.

“More heirs, more heirs,” Aegon muttered, barely shutting the door behind him. He caught how bloodshot Aemond's remaining eye had become. "Congratulations, brother."

“Ignore him. What about my wife? Spit it out.” Aemond snapped, scowling at the Maester.

“My Prince…” Orwyle swallowed the knot in his throat.

“Maester?” Alicent stepped closer, seeing his reluctance.

“My brother's wife, quite the puppet master, played him for a fool," Aegon drawled, ignoring his mother's motions for him to stop. "And now my poor nephews and niece, from the sounds of it, are in her salacious clutches.... as well as that Knight of hers."

“Silence, Aegon!” Alicent rushed between her sons as her daughter walked in, earning bows from Ser Criston and the Maester. "There is no time for this."

“Oh, unlike you, I know where my Lady wife resides.”

Aemond harshly pulled his arm out of his mother's grip, “Maester, spit it out!”

His heart hammered, and all he could taste was the blood from his tongue. If he had to remain in his brother's presence any longer, he would either bite it off or cut Aegon's.

“Go on, Grand Maester," Otto motioned for the man to continue.

The Maester merely avoided their eyes, causing Aemond to grow further angry and anxious, “Go on. Speak!”

“The Lady Daenys… she lost too much blood. Birthing Lady Laena… proved to weaken her body; she requested to be taken to the Dragon pits of the Dragonstone. The Lady’s sisters assisted her —“ Orwyle stammered toward the end, upon feeling the shift in the air.

“And then what transpired?” Aemond snapped, watching as his mother and sister stiffened, the latter already moved to tears. “What happened to my wife? My Daenys, did she survive?”

It felt as if all it took was a second for the room to plummet into grief and despair.

Orwyle at last delivered the news, “The Lady Daenys was said to plead with her Dragon to burn her." He paused at the gasps echoing through the bedchamber. Halaena held onto her mother, crippled by the heartache. Alicent let out a prayer. Criston appeared to avert his tense gaze. Aegon attempted to reach out to his wife, and even his Grandsire Otto seemed saddened by the news. "For which the Dragon did as she asked, she passed My Prince. Though her life was short, her marriage to you was a match well made, both happy and fruitful, bringing forth three children, two sons and one daughter.”

“Daenys is dead.” Aemond finally uttered after his face fell and pain attacked his every nerve.

“Aemond.” Alicent's lip quivered, looking at her secondborn son.

“My Prince.” Criston stepped forward. "My condolencses."

“My wife is dead.” Aemond reitered, tilting his head at the Maester, who remained silent.

“My boy -“ Otto tried.

"Deliver the rapture of war,” Helaena muttered through her cries.

“They’ve done this.” Aemond accused as tears visciously fell from his eye.

“Apologies, brother,” Aegon murmured, stepping back when he caught his glare.

“Driven from my arms. They stole her from me!” Aemond raged, whilst his mother shakily dismissed the Maester, who made a quick escape.

“Aemond, you’ve suffered a great loss.” Alicent pulled away from her daughter, who fell into a familiar muttering chant. Aegon hopelessly stared at her.

A cruel laugh escaped Aemond's trembling lips, “A great loss? She was mine! Part of me. She has been ripped from my grasp, taken from my bed and scorched like a criminal. She was my wife! Mother of my children, our children. The Gods are punishing me." He realised. he had already taken one life tonight, perhaps missing the birth of his daughter wasn't penance enough. Mother, Maiden and Crone needed to make an example of him. "We were set to rule the Driftwood throne. Had they not whispered poison in her ears, she would be here, with our maesters." He paced between them all with conviction, and they did not dare to move, only continue to watch in shock. "Not forced to rip our daughter from her womb under distress. She must’ve been so alone. She wanted me there, I know it. I feel it. I felt it. Her love has not left me.“ He could not bear the weight of his heart rupturing in its cage anymore.

“Think of the children. You know have a daughter.” Alicent reasoned.

“Your mother is right. Another heir.” Otto added.

“They’ve stolen them from you, my Prince,” Criston said.

“A ploy to distract you from upholding the crown that sits on your brother’s head.” Otto gestured to Aegon, who uncharacteristically stayed mute.

“Daenys is truly gone,” Helaena squeaked.

Ignoring their words, Aemond yelled, “I will not have this. They’ve taken my heart. My sons and now my daughter.”

The Gods were punishing him, still, he could not let this lie as he knew Daenys would not. She would plot to save their children, to save him, and so shall he.

a/n:

this one-shot came to mind randomly one day.

WHEN they reach their quarters Daenys put her hand out, preventing Aemond from pushing open the door. Seeing her apprehension he cocked his head to the side, analysing her sudden change in demeanour. 

"What you said about the winter rose..."

"We do not have to go in," Aemond stated, understanding her train of thought. He would not let his uncle cease their last piece of pleasure. He would grasp it if his life depended on it. "Come," he grabbed her shoulders, caressing her arms until he interlinked their hands, pressing kisses to each one. "How ravishing." 

Sparing a look at the guards outside their quarters, he sent a nod, dismissing them. 

"My Prince," they spoke, inclining their heads "My Lady."

Not wasting time, Daenys drew Aemond for a desperate kiss, unclasping his hair in the process, letting his moon-kissed locks cascade, swarming her face. A small whimper escaped her lips when he pulled away, her pleas caused him to grip her hands, pushing them above her head. 

"Aemond," she moaned as his other hand grasped at her skirts, "How tactless, pleasuring your Lady Wife for all to see." A smirk kissed his lips as they descended onto her chest, nipping at the bust and growling into her cleavage. He wanted nothing more than to rip her bodice to shreds, but her dampening thighs called to him. Beckoned him, she lured him like a siren. She gasped at his touch, fingers crawling to where they both desired most. "How perfect, they fit me so well Husband."

He grunted, adding another finger to her core, feasting on the moans pouring from her mouth. 

"My shift, I cannot breathe with it, it suffocates me so," letting go of her hands, he tugged at the front of her shift, revealing her breasts, on display for him to see, and only him. His lips peppered over her nipples, as his pace sped up. "More... I need it, need you closer."

She cried out, uncaring of the maids scattering away at the mere sound of her debauchery. 

"Peak, Wife," he craved it, wanting her release on his fingers. His lips parted and his gaze darkened when her head tossed back against their chamber door. "That's it." Her silent cry of his name almost made him spill in his breeches. Riding the wave of pleasure, Daenys eyes fluttered as he pulled his fingers away, wanting to sample a taste of her sweetness. "Exquisite."

She flushed as he licked every last drop, before smashing his lips against hers, leaving her whining and pleading for more. 

"Our children wonder about our whereabouts, don't you think?"

"You villain," she went to reach for his jerkin. 

"When I check for monsters under our children's beds? Tis indeed shameful. Before they come to join you in our chambers, I will let you return the favour, if that is what you desire." 

She mirrored his smirk.

"Very much so."

DAENYS softly gasped when Aemond's lips slammed against hers. She could feel the passion, or perhaps his lust would engulf her all at once. A sense of pride washed over her, before she pulled back, seeing the darkening glints of greed in his lilac eye flicker to her chest. She teased and tutted when he dipped his head again only to be met with her cheek. 

"We mustn't. The boys..."

"As soon as their eyes shut, you won't be able to keep me at arm's length."

Daenys did not trust her voice, answering with a nod instead. 

They heard their children babbling grow softer and quieter; words that were predominately Rhaegon's. The twins caught the glimmer of their Father's Sapphire as he rounded their canopy bed. One day, they had raced into their parent's chambers without knocking when Daenys was cleaning his socket. Aemond had turned away despite his throbbing pain, but the twins appeared intrigued not scared, just like Daenys would tell him. Since then Aemond was more confident showing his disfigurement to his sons, but only to them and his Lady Wife, who were privy to his vulnerability.

"One story, Tis what your Mother promised you. Now rest. We have been busy boys, if you must know. Planning and moulding your future. Our future. Now sleep," a cat-like pout formed on Rhaegon's face — inherited from his Father. Baelon groaned, but listened, shutting his parti-coloured eyes with a scrunched face. His twin followed, after receiving soft strokes to his hair from their Mother. "Good." 

"Rest well sweet boys," Daenys blew out candles around the room. They were scentless, otherwise they'd cause discomfort to Aemond's wounded socket. Husband and Wife watched fondly and feverishly as their children's hands grabbed onto each other. "We will be on look out for any monsters. They cannot get to you. Nor me with your Father here." 

Their laboured breaths reached the parent's ears as their chests rose and fell. 

In the darkness, Daenys let out a soft gasp, careful not to wake her sons when she felt her Lord husband's hands caress her breasts. 

"Not here." 

"Where then, The coast?" Aemond responded dryly. 

"Need I remind you that you ravished me in an empty corridor of the Keep?" She whispered, fuelling his lust. "Now Come. I shall show you all the corners and crevices of this place, where one day you and I will rule. But first, my desire to have you see my special hideout."

Aemond, let his hunger guide throughout the castle and his Wife, whilst hearing the echoes of Knights on watch. The sights even in the night were pleasant, windy yet warm not what he was used to. Daenys' grip tightened as they stumbled, clad in their small clothes and cloaks to protect the archaic walls from their sins. 

"This was your... hideout?" He glanced around at the tall walls of the narrow library of High Tide. "How shabby." 

"Is that judgement I detect husband? And here I thought you were the caring type. But I see that is all Daeron." 

Her amusement faded when he backed her against the walls of the library, turning her to face a window and gripping her hands, placing them on the cobblestones. He spread her legs as she panted, collecting all the air she needed as he pulled up her ivory gown, mouth-frothing at the lack of small clothes she wore beneath. Bare-arsed and exposed to the Prince, anyone else would mistake her for a whore, the noises she would make would do well to imply that. 

"Tell me, about this place," He demanded, swiping his fingers through her soaked slit, biting down on his bottom lip at the whimper escaping her lips. Normally he would be on his knees, sucking and sampling all she had to offer, his knees would grow tired but his tongue would maintain the ravaging with hunger as she screamed, begging for more. "The ports, the villages... How the common folk work, how they satisfy themselves." He heard his Daenys' moans, they were quick to louden at the pace he worked at, adding another finger just to pull them back to taste, groaning and eye-rolling back at the mere addiction he had. It was strong. His cravings never stopped. "Perhaps I should visit Spicetown before we depart on the morrow, grow accustomed to the life." 

"Hull would be more to your liking," she breathed out, feeling his naked thighs brush against hers. He further nudged her knees apart and pushed gently on her spine, smirking at her arching back. "You'd admire the men, their dedication to their craft," she let out a deep moan when he guided himself to her dripping core. He silenced their noise with a sloppy kiss, gently caressing her neck as their lips enveloped each other. He struggled to hold back, mind dazed at how her body swallowed his every inch. "Aemond..." she murmured against his lips as he picked up his pace, settling his hands back on her waist, careful not to pound into her, wary he would hurt the babe. "The Sea Snake was saved by an Alyn of Hull." 

The mention of another man encouraged him to thrust deeper, her intention of course, "Oh was he?" 

She almost shrieked when he grabbed her breast, "Yes." 

His hands began to knead her flesh, at times gentle, others possessive. the pleasures engulfing them were too much, and thoughts of being caught spurred them on. Her palms left the cobbled walls and flung around his neck as he pulled him back against his chest with each thrust. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, hitting spots inside her that sent jolts of pleasure through her body.  The sensations intensified.

"Oh..." she mewled. "Gods." 

"Do you feel that?" his lips tickled her ear, voice strained and husky. "Do you feel how you take me in?"

"I feel you, always," voice trembling, she mustered an answer. "We will visit all the settlements when we ascend. We will learn," she choked back a sob at wondering fingers working between her legs. "We will love. And then we rule."

A laboured chuckle escaped him, "Yes, love. Then we rule."

a/n:

so apparently wattpad is taking down stories that includes smut, which "doesn't serve the story". so I'm not risking anything and uploading any smut scenes I've written onto here.

He couldn't escape it.

The dripping, the foul smells seeping through the bricks and wood. He let out a shaky breath when he leaned against the door he sealed behind him. He blinked and sighed.

His nose twitched at the aroma of firemilk wafting through the air.

A soft hum soon followed, making him snap his attention to a familiar figure. A Lady. She stopped her humming and slowly turned her head; platinum blonde braided locs fell over her shoulder. A wicked smile breached her bronze lips, before she faced away, drawing the Prince to the table she worked over.

His firstborn. His daughter Daenys, the very image of her late mother Laena, was before him. Just how she looked before her passing. Both of their passings. Daenys was as beautiful as ever and healthy. She appeared so healthy, and yet no bump in sight. No reminiscence of a child in her womb. Daenys aided the figure on the table, but he could not see who. It was a haze, perhaps due to the dressings and the dimly lit room.

"I was wondering when you'd come." She uttered, barely glancing at him.

"Daenys," His hand reached out to touch her, but she made a noise of disgust. "You're here."

She scoffed, "Trust to find you here, in this mess. Harrenahal? This is your doing, I take it? For the war?"

He bit back, "They waged war the second they usurped the throne."

"Rhaenyra's throne, or yours?" She retorted, before pouring milk of the poppy into her patient's mouth.

Daemon stepped closer, "Daenys --"

“Isn’t this wonderful? Your ploys to uphold your Queen, gain an army, a base for your politicking, and to do as you please. To do what you believed was entitled to you, Father? The crown. A crown for a King. A King that pulls strings under the guise of love and protection. Of the realm or your ego? This is all because of such. A stolen claim. A stolen title. Forced to cater to a… woman?”

The crulety of her laughter would’ve been enough to wound his spirit, but the sight before him as he rounded the table caused a broken cry to fall from his lips. The figure's face she patched up, became violently vivid. They were a child. She was a child. The very age Daenys wed, only the burns and boils clinging to her scorched face belonged to Daenys in death, along with the swollen bump attached to her abdomen. Older Daenys paid no mind to his weeping and continued her work, pouring the firemilk onto the open wounds of her youthful yet crisp face, earning whimpers and cries in response.

“Where were you?” A young, broken Daenys asked. Addled on milk of the poppy, the scent clung to her slurring tongue. “I needed you and you weren’t there,” she tried to say Kepa, but it was no use. "I waited on my birthing bed. I waited when blood pooled between my legs. I waited in the Dragonpits." She sniffled, eyes reddening whilst he desperately gripped the side of the table, letting Dark sister slip through his hands. “You left me.”

“I’m sorry, my girl, I should never have left your side,” Daemon whispered, glancing between the two iterations of his daughter.

“You abandoned me." Young Daenys snapped, shaking him to his core, before both girls yelled, "You abandoned us.”

He could hardly blink back his tears before they let out a harrowing scream as they perished, leaving ash in their wake.

"No, no, no, no. I'm here now," Daemon's eyes drooped, shutting. And when they opened, he was alone in his bedchamber, clutching his sheets. Tears streamed down his face as he repeated, "I'm here now."

a/n:

yup, this is how i'd imagine daenys haunting her father. crazy but it makes sense in my eyes. even in her final moments he wasn't there for his firstborn.