Writing whatever my little brain thinks of

Daemon is in front of them, coming out of the chamber they were meant to enter. He points Dark Sister at them, jaw clenching tightly at the words he heard them speak.

The three look to their master in fear as he takes a few steps closer to them, "I will not tolerate any word from any tongue about my wife."

Daemon watches them quiver under the gaze of his sword. Had he not been attentive of his wife, he would have killed them out of annoyance. Yet he doesn't, "do your task and leave at once."

The head servant nods and the servants scurry off into the room.

I was lying in bed, chest down, when I heard the telltale sound of footsteps. I peel my teary eyes open and mutter against the cushion, "Mileva?"

My childhood handmaiden turns to me and frowns, "yes, milady, I'm here. I have come to serve you your food."

My eyes begin to water again as I watch her set the food out on the table.

On theme with my other thoughts, I recall how she took care of me as a child, and then how she excitedly told me she was eager to do the same for my children. Her hair was now grey and yet I still had not even one child.

"Mileva," I whine, lips quivering as I reach my hand out to her for comfort.

Daemon walks back in, face hard and tense.

Mileva turns to me and sighs, "oh, sweet child." She walks over to me, taking my hand, kneeling by the side of my bed, "cease your sorrow. You will fall with child soon enough."

"But it's been a year since I've been wed," I sob, pulling her hand towards me, "what if something's wrong with me?"

"N-" "There's nothing wrong with you," Daemon quips before Mileva could speak the same words, albeit with more softness.

Mileva turns to Daemon who stood by the door, as if guarding it, then back to me, pressing a kiss on my knuckles, "my lady, take heart and regain your strength. I know you are going through a difficult season, but soon you will have what you so desire," she brushes my tears away with her calloused hands, "it is not uncommon to experience what you're going through. I myself grieved the same things you do when I first fell with child."

"Oh, Mileva," I weep helplessly, moving to sit up, "I had no idea, and I-"

"Enough, my girl," she hushes, grabbing both of my arms in her hands, "now please, do us all a favor and eat. I would never forgive myself if I allow you to lose yourself completely."

Daemon watches as I move to the table near our bed. Once I sit down, my husband speaks, "you may go now."

In exchange of the company of our servants, Daemon comes upon me, placing a hand on my shoulder as I dumbly look at the food I once loved.

"Your dear Mileva is right, you must regain your strength," he mutters, walking behind me, massaging both my shoulders.

"I feel I will be sick if I so much bring a spoon to my mouth."

He stills his actions then the drags the other chair close to me with a screech. "Shall you prefer I feed you then?" he asks, sitting next to me.

Daemon does nothing but look at me as I gaze off into the abyss that was a plate of food before me.

"I don't think I will ever find peace, Daemon," I mutter, mostly I think to myself, "I was with child," I start to feel tears burn in my eyes, "then I was not."

He brushes his fingers on my cheek, "The gods are to blame, not you."

I finally turn to my husband, chest heaving as salt water runs down my face uncontrollably. He frowns as he sighs, hand taking mine in comfort. I choke on more tears and fall to his side, unable to withhold the helpless yelps in my throat.

Daemon wastes no time in readjusting in his seat, expertly unclasping the holster on his waist, allowing his weapon to clatter to the ground. He then in one scoop brings me onto his lap, allowing me to nuzzle on his neck and pour my sadness onto his skin. His arms envelope around me, behind my back and over my thighs.

I bring my hands up to his cheeks, attempting to even out my breathing as I take in his familiar scent.

Once I finally felt like I wasn't suffocating, I begin to fiddle with Daemon's silver hair.

He leans against my touch. I pepper kisses on his cheeks.

For a moment, he is satisfied with this, but then decides to meet my lips with his own. His hands begin to tighten around me.

I release as sigh, pulling my hands away so I can readjust his grip o me and maneuver my legs over him. He makes no fuss when I straddle him, in fact his arms fiddle with the nightgown I did not bother to change out of from the night before.

My fingers travel to his tunic, and I begin to undo the its clasps. When my hand finally rubs the bare skin underneath his clothing, that's when he halts and pushes me off him to stop our kiss. He is finally certain of my actions.

I look at him. His eyes are closed and yet I could see his resolve dwindling. I place a peck on his lip as I grind down on him.

He groans, legs spreading beneath me. For a moment, he allows me to continue, but then his hands grab on my waist at an attempt to stop me.

I halt at just as he wants, but feel betrayal rise up my throat as I speak, "will you not even have me now, husband?"

Daemon releases a prolonged sigh, leaning his head back on the chair, lightly scratching my sides with his fingers, "with all my strength, I am not strong enough to even think of doing that."

I continue to buck my hips on him again.

His grip tightens but not in an attempt to withhold me.

"Then do not kid yourself by resisting me."

Daemon's eyes finally open with a grunt. The dizziness in his mind clears when he sees my face. He knits his brows and wipes my tears away, "my love."

I blink rapidly as I whine, "have me, Daemon, and end this mourning."

He calls my name, stilling me again with his hands.

This time, I bang on his chest in anger for trying to stop me, but then all at once, I crumble against him in a fit of tears.

Daemon kisses my cheek as he tightly pulls me against him.

We remain like this for a long while.

After being calmed by the sound of his breathing, I finally have the strength to cease my weeping. "I do want you, Daemon," I mutter against his cheek.

"I always want you, my queen," he replies, rubbing my back, "but I do not wish to take advantage of your sorrow."

I move against him again. He loosens his arms around me as I turn to him with glassy eyes, "then have me for no other reason than my own desire to have you, Daemon."

He is about to say something, but my hand on his hardened member takes the words out of his mouth. I palm his through his pants, "will you require me to beg for it on my knees?"

I pull away, hands snaking behind his nape, "I will be most eager to do so," I whisper, hips rolling atop his, "anything to take my mind off this, Daemon."

"Fuck," he hisses, hands tightening around me yet again.

This time, Daemon carries me to our bed and pushes me open underneath him. He hungrily kisses my neck and begins to rub his clothed member against my burning core.

"Take your clothes off," I whimper, urging his tunic and pants off.

In an instant, not only is he naked, but as am I.

Our lips take each other's desperately, and a satisfied moan fights between our kiss when I feel him enter me slowly. My limbs latch around him out of instinct and my fingers dig into the small of his back, urging him to move.

He whispers my name in my ear. He does so with much care that my heart quickens at it.

"I will try my best to be gentle, my love."

I whine at his sentiment, but I nibble his ear in response, "fuck gentle. Ruin me, Daemon. I don't want to walk around any time soon anyway."

Daemon begins to rut his hips into mine upon hearing this. He moves slowly at first, as if to measure the truth in my words. He then enters me at a quicker pace, exhaling deeply against my skin.

I whine his name out, "Daemon please, please, please, fuck me."

He heaves against me, "say that again."

I claw at him and whimper, "please, fuck me so hard I can't walk, Daemon." I match the movement of his hips, "make sure I have no choice but to stay in bed."

That's all it takes for him to thrust into me like a man gone mad.

The sound of skin slapping each other almost makes me unable to hear my cries.

He enjoys breaking my legs open and hammering into my heat. He enjoys it so much that he remains in this position for a while, savoring the feeling. He soon decides to move his hands up my legs and push my knees to my chest. Daemon lifts himself a bit, so he could hook my ankles by his shoulders. The more compromising position makes me stretch my hands above me and grip at the pillows for dear life.

I cry so hard that I don't hear anything else. I'm sure even if there weren't anyone near our chambers, my screams would still be heard.

"Do you like it when I take you like this, wife?" he asks, or challenges almost.

I'm too fucked up to reply and only the in sync rising and falling of my voice to his relentless slamming was what he got out of me.

He finds a more secure stance on his knees, and he latches his fingers under my knees as he drives into me like it was what was going to keep him alive.

His breathing is unbelievably controlled in comparison to my raggedy hitches.

As Daemon looks before him, his hands reach out to my core then to my belly. His mind floods with obscene images of previous couplings. He groans at the ideas flooding his head. He rubs my belly, "you will look so glorious filled up with my seed."

I whine as his hands grab my breasts.

"Maybe I should fill up all your pretty holes, hmm?" he pants, "but maybe then your body wouldn't know what to do with my seed anymore."

I release a string of curses as my hands shoot up to grip his biceps. My back arches to better feel him and mentally thank myself for it, screaming ecstasy when he knocks on me just right. He chuckles in satisfaction, "so fucking eager, my love."

In a twist of fate, he pulls out of me.

I'm too delirious to even realize it or manage to complain. All at once I'm being flipped onto my knees. I do however know exactly when he pulls on my hips and slams into me with dare I say more intent. I don't even manage to push myself on my arms as I am utterly boneless against him.

"Daemon."

His response to the sound of his name was to rub my sensitive nub with his keen fingers. His other hand yanks on the roots of my hair, "who does your cunt belong to?"

I growl, one hand coming to his that was pulling my head back. I am even more unable to push myself up. I scream his name.

"Mine," he growls, "mine," he flicks his hips.

He yanks on my hair again, "say it. Who do you belong to?"

"You," I heave, "you, you, you, you-"

"Good," he praises as I loose my mind, "I'll make sure you only ever cry over how good my cock makes you feel," he mutters breathily. And although his words are lewd, there is a certain sincerity to it.

Much like before, because I never really stopped, tears begin to drip from my eyes in a tinge of pleasure, pain, and residual sorrow.

Daemon massages my scalp with his fingers as his thrusts reach a quick and steady pace. I can almost feel him hit inner most parts of my mind and taste him on my tongue.

My head helplessly crumbles onto the cushions when he releases me so he can piston inside me at a better angle. My screams are finally muffled.

My husband seems not to appreciate it as he yanks my hair back and forces my shouts to me audible again, "let them hear me breed my you, wife, scream out who makes you feel like this."

At this point, I've left my mouth gaping too long that my throat dries up and the sounds of his name that I produce leaves a burning sensation.

I feel my stomach begin to tighten at his ministrations.

"That's right," he encourages, "chase that feeling on my cock," he says, "come around me, darling. Come on."

My hips instinctively buck against him at the sound of his encouragements.

Daemon revels in the repetition of his name. He feels like he is invincible at the praising sounds.

I inevitably quake around him as if it was the surface beneath that forced me to do so. My voice is absolutely wrecked at the cry that leaves my lips.

Daemon rubs my core again, milking my reaction for all he's got.

Once even my knees began to give in, that's when I feel Daemon's heat shoot into so sharply that my body quakes all over again. He fucks into me even after. There is so much of him that I feel him drip out of me with wet squelching sounds.

My womanhood is practically crying at this point.

"I'll do you well, wife," he announces, pace drastically slowing, "I'll fuck you good even if the gods obstruct your womb from carrying my seed."

I repeat his name over and over again.

Daemon finally stops, but he does not exit me. He rubs my butt in a soothing attempt, "let me stay like this for a while, your cunt is leaking."

I shake my head, "no please, turn me over. I want to hold you, Daemon."

He does not dare deny me this.

He quickly uses his strength and expertly has me on my back, barely pulling out as he does so.

He wraps my legs around him snugly as he eventually presses his chest against mine. I seal his torso in my arms. He sighs in content when he finds his face on the crook of my neck. He lazily kisses my skin as his his arms loop around my own body.

"I love you, Daemon," I mutter, fingers lightly grazing his skin.

"I love you," he responds, "I will continue to be a slave to your desires."

"Good," I pipe up blinking away the tears that were left in my eyes, "I don't want you to leave me today. Stay right here, like this."

Daemon kisses my neck, "I wouldn't dare move from where I lie."

A good seven days passed, and I was feeling a lot more myself.

Daemon, in all his paranoia that something would happen to me the moment he's not looking, made sure to either not leave my side, or to bring me everywhere with him. And since he really did leave me in quite a discomfort after our intense fucking, it was only now that he was able to bring me along to accomplish his errands.

In all his smugness, he offered to carry me if I still found it difficult to walk. I, of course, slapped him because of this. It obviously didn't hurt him, because I meant it not too, but he promised me he'd get even for it.

Today, we were apparently going for a ride on dragon back.

"How have you been, boy," Daemon calls in High Valyrian as we made our way to his dragon.

Caraxes whines the way he always does. I smile at the creature, sensing somehow that he had missed his rider. Daemon catches this and squeezes my hand in response.

All at once, Caraxes whines shift into a louder more desperate version, dare I say it was a form of discomfort. The unforeseen reaction makes me nervous, especially when the large creature makes his way towards me.

Daemon feels Caraxes' agitation, but he is more concern about mine, which is why he releases my hand and raises it up to the dragon. He promptly scolds the beast in a long string of High Valyrian I wouldn't have been able to understand even if I wanted to.

Caraxes screeches, seemingly determined to go to me.

I decide to walk back slowly, although I do this out of concern more than fear. Perhaps he wanted his rider all to himself. I agree with my mental thought, since deep down, I knew Caraxes would not turn to me will ill-intent.

One of the keepers, I find, is suddenly ghosting a hand over my arm. I gasp at the unexpected touch and furrow my brows at his words that I do not understand.

Daemon's gaze rips away from his dragon over to the keeper, "what did you say?"

The keeper turns from me to my husband, hand pulling away so he could motion to the restless Caraxes.

Daemon's face contorts at whatever it was that he was told. My concern now drifts from the dragon to his rider, "Daemon? What is it?"

He turns away from me, back to Caraxes, hushing him, "I understand now, boy."

I look at Daemon as he offers me his hand without turning away from his mount. I wordlessly take his hand in mine. Daemon pulls me slowly in front of him, hands going to my sides.

Caraxes stands on his legs upon seeing me, letting out a powerful roar.

I reel back, pressing against my husband's chest, "Daemon, I-"

"It's alright," he mutters against my ear.

Daemon looks up to his dragon then screams some sort of accusation.

Caraxes lands back on his claws, huffing out so deeply that there is a strong gust of air that nearly blows me away. Had it not been for Daemon behind me, perhaps I would have fallen on my ass.

Suddenly, I hear Daemon shudder. His hand travel to my belly. He takes one step forward, moving in front of me and calls my name out in praise before kneeling before me.

I look down at him in concern, almost not noticing how Caraxes brings his snout close to me.

I am distracted by the dragon head that I almost don't hear Daemon say, "you're with child."

My hand darts up to Caraxes and my eyes widen as I turn back down to my husband.

He kisses my skirt, but I shake my head in disbelief, "don't mess with me, Daemon."

Daemon looks up at me then stands. He hushes me as he takes my face in his hands, "Caraxes can sense it," he presses a kiss on my forehead, "the gods have finally bended to my will."

Tears begin to glaze my eyes. "Daemon," I grip his wrist and look up at him, "I'm so happy, but what if-"

"Shhh," he pulls me against him, "I will not have you speak ill of this glorious discovery."

I begin to weep, and it seems Caraxes does not enjoy it for he huffs helplessly upon hearing it.

"I will be here, my love," he mutters, "I will do all I can to make sure nothing harms you or our child."

The roar of the gigantic beast reverberating through the forest drowns the riotous song of your heartbeat and scattered breaths. The towering, ancient trees shake with the sudden winds. You almost find your demise upon the forest floor, the unnatural breeze brought on by the flapping of massive wings above nearly causing a fall. 

Branches and thorns catch the hem of your long, hefty dress. What a mistake it was, leaping into the night with such haste, lacking proper attire, or even a proper plan. But other prospects were dreadfully amiss. 

You were seen, wanted. A mere query in Claw Isle to strengthen the alliance with House Celtigar, often forgotten and shadowed by other houses, bigger and stronger.

What started as a political endeavor on behalf of King Viserys swiftly turned into a bid for your hand in marriage, to your abject realization. 

He is all you despise, violent and arrogant. Insane. There is no doubt the blood of the dragon pours through his veins. 

"What must I do to earn a few minutes of your time, my beautiful nymph?" 

"It appears you shall steal it regardless, my lord," you stiffly reply, hastening your strides to lose him in the wide hallways of the castle. It is to no avail as he keeps pace with ease, his boots drumming along the floor stones. 

"It is because you will not grant me an audience, my beauty…" A breath rushes from your throat when the prince seizes your arm, interrupting your hurried walk. His dark eyes fall upon you, brimming with mirth as he lifts your chin. His pale fingers are strangely warm. Indignation floods your being at the nonchalant intimacy of his touch. Your dismay is met by a conceited smirk. "Or even look at me. What have I done to inspire such spite?" 

A crease settles over your brow. 

"My lord, Septa Aelle will look for me if I do not show…" 

His deep chuckle summons heat in your cheeks. 

"The hour is awfully late for learning, is it not?" His touch strays to the side of your face, his gaze lingering on your lips. You bristle. It is no way for a lord, a prince, to behave. Such behavior is that of a rascal, a man of low morals. Wandering eyes could question your virtue. You slap his hand away. It hangs in the air as his mouth thins. 

"And yet I am learning much about the stubbornness of men," you retaliate before taking your leave. 

He does not follow this time. 

You believe his fixation throttled by your blatant disdain. 

How wrong you were… painfully so. 

Again and again, you denied every one of the prince's attempts at courtship, until his impatience turned into frustration, and his frustration into rage. 

"I am flattered, my lord, but I am content here, at Claw Isle, with my own countrymen, where a match has already been secured for me."

"And does this mysterious, secure match have a name?" he inquires sardonically.

"It is no concern of yours, my lord."

"How is it not my concern to fight for what is mine?" Acrimony flows through the prince’s tone as his hand twitches over the pommel of Dark Sister, the infamous sword of Visenya Targaryen, now his. It is said the blade’s thirst for blood is only matched by the rogue prince’s own.

"My lord…" You retreat further behind your father’s seat.

His dusky gaze remains shackled to your trembling frame. He takes another step towards your father, towards you, only stopping when the guards form a wall between you and the Targaryen prince. 

"And you have been mine, my lady, from the minute my eyes rested upon your lovely form…" He squints at you and a shiver dances through your limbs. "Much as you refuse to see it."

A shaky mumble rolls on your tongue.

"Father, may I be excused?" 

Your father nods, dismissing you with an apologetic curve of his lips. He has done all he can to protect you from the world, a world often so cruel. He has even found you a kind lord to marry. 

But you are unsure how long your father will be able to protect you from the flames burning in the prince’s eyes before they engulf you in their heat. Your father’s stern voice fills the halls of the castle as you walk to your room. 

"Lord Targaryen as I have said before…" 

What Daemon Targaryen cannot have, he schemes to take; and when those schemes fail, he resorts to the ancient ways of his house. 

Dragons. Fear made flesh and bone. Fire and blood. 

First, he cut his way through your father’s entire guard, leaving a trail of bodies on his path to your chambers. You were lucky the septa tore you from slumber, allowing your escape. 

Then, as you ran through the forest, the most chilling screeching froze the blood in your veins. 

The war cry of a dragon. Caraxes.

The fearsome beast’s shadow spans so wide, it consumes all light for miles, concealing the moon herself. 

Your chest burns. Your feet ache. You will not last much longer on foot. Unfortunately, your horse met his dire fate miles ago. He collapsed on a thick tree root and is now nothing but a steaming pile of charred flesh. 

Hope flares inside you as a small cave below the forest ground peeks through the darkness. A hiding spot. The gods finally show mercy. 

You run faster, breathless in your efforts. Just a few more strides and you will be safe. 

Slowly, you inch inside the cave, praying in silence no animal lies in the darkness. Although you are desperate enough to challenge a bear or wolf, as evidenced by the determined way you squeeze the handle of the Valyrian steel dagger your father gave you.

Water drips from the rock above you, the frosty chill penetrating through your cloak and dress. Shivering, you collapse to the ground. The bruises and cuts you gathered during your mad run are nothing compared to the sheer fright tightly wrapped around your heart. 

All goes quiet for a time. 

Only the chant of the night may be heard. The fluttering of grass. The cry of insects. The song of owls. 

You allow calm to find shelter inside you again. Your heart settles. 

It is as you rise, sitting on your knees, that a scorching breeze swallows your entire being, draping you in warmth. You whirl with a gasp. 

The sight that greets you unleashes thunder in your veins. 

A gigantic gold eye trails your movement, the dark slit in its center inflating as you tremble.

Words are strangled by terror and your mouth simply parts, your shaky steps dragging you away from the beast. 

Massive, crimson scales and heavy wings slither in your vision. You hold your breath. Is this how you will perish? Consumed by dragon fire?

Before you can ponder your end, the thud of boots erupts in the cave. Silver hair and a winning smile invade your sight. 

"Did you truly think you could run from me, my love?"

Daemon’s orbs shimmer in the darkness as he prowls towards you. He removes his gloves and tosses them to the floor.

"I am not your love," you hiss.

He chuckles, amusement waltzing in his orbs when you lift the dagger and point it at him. "So defiant, even in the face of the inevitable." There’s a hint of admiration in his tone. 

"If you possess a modicum of honor, you will turn…"

He laughs again, rousing a snowstorm in your blood. 

"Honor? Tell me, beauty, do I seem like a man of honor to you?" Malevolence lights his features. He arches his brow, his heated stare traveling along your heaving chest. "What’s Honor to delight, pleasure?"

The blade wobbles in your grasp.

"Ser, I beg of you…"

"Such fire in you, my love. A fire fit for a dragon."

He draws Dark Sister from its scabbard. Your chest tightens. His motions are slow, bereft of alarm, unlike yours. The pathetic slashes you attempt with the dagger are met with mockery. He dodges every single blow with a smile, plucking shameless joy from your torment. One flick of the sword sends the dagger flying across the cave. He pricks your palm, drawing blood, and you whimper, clutching your hand to your chest. 

"Please…"

The cold tip of his blade is wedged between your breasts, falling and rising with your heartbeat. 

"How can I stop when you beg so sweetly, my lady?"

He slices your dress open in the middle. The awful ripping bounces against the walls of the cave, sickling reverberating in your ears. 

Daemon’s sword clatters to the floor as he pounces on you. He pins you to the ground. His strength is overwhelming.

Sobs ripple in your chest as he finishes undressing you. The tatters of your dress end on the floor. Frosty air kisses your skin, goosebumps blooming over it.

Hand exploring your naked chest, he hums,

"Your beauty far outweighs my fantasies, my lady."

Your breath falters as his mouth lands on your nipple. Daemon rolls it in his mouth, cupping your breasts. His tongue twirls as your back arches. 

The prince’s scorching hands and feverish tongue leave no part of you ungroped, untasted. Fiery touches send tingles through your body.

His lips find yours, sweeping you in a hungry kiss. As you whine against his mouth, his touch creeps south. 

You writhe beneath him as your legs are crudely parted. 

He slides between your thighs, draping himself over you. His desire, throbbing and heavy, carves a searing imprint into your belly. Dread pulses through you as he fumbles with the leather of his pants, freeing his cock. Entranced rasps vibrate in his chest.

"Keep fighting me, my love. It only stokes the flames of my longing…" His chuckle resonates in the cave, lips whispering along your earshell, "and makes my cock harder."

The prince yields to his basest urges, patience and tenderness vacant, as he thrusts his length into your dry cunt. Pain burns through your soft flesh.

A silent scream parts your lips. Daemon corrals your wrists above your head with one hand while the other wraps around your throat, pressing on your pulse. 

He defiles you violently, taking your maidenhood without ceremony. 

Tears stream down your cheeks as he pants and grunts above you. The terrible echo of flesh against flesh fills the cave. 

Your body jolts with his wild cadence, light wavering in your sight with every blunt graze of his hard flesh against your own.

Sweat-drenched, silver strands brush along your chest when he bends to nip your skin, scattering bites over your neck. His hot tongue collects your tears like a savory nectar. 

"By the gods, you are tight," he coos. It feels as though you will rip, torn asunder by his gluttonous desire. Your delicate skin chafes along the stone. Slickness and blood coat his cock as Daemon doesn’t relent. 

He whispers dreadful promises in your ear, of taking you to Dragonstone, of making you his second wife, of planting an heir in your womb. 

You believe it all done when his cock pulsates in your abused cunt and he unleashes his seed with a contented sigh, purring deep in his chest. But the prince remains nestled in your heat. The thickness springing from his softening length burns your walls, filling you to the brim. Horror flutters inside you as it slowly drips past where you and the prince are joined, staining the inside of your thighs. Shame prickles your insides as you are branded by the Targaryen prince. Sullied. A maiden no longer.

A great fatigue engulfs you but Daemon wrenches your chin, forcing you awake. Lust sparkles in his dark gaze.

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"Stay with me, my love," he says before gliding his lips over yours possessively. His tongue tangles with yours, silencing your tearful whimpers. "Dawn remains at a distance and a dragon’s hunger isn’t so easily appeased."