About: Daeron dreamed of the same woman for ten years, saving him from his horrific nightmares. He knew her, but never met her before. No dreams could predict what would happen when he finally finds her in the most unexpected situation.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
no use of Y/N
Chapter 9: What Makes a Cage, a Cage?
Word count: 4,644
<- Previous
When Daeron left her in the dark of night, he didn’t just return to his room, but left King's Landing entirely. She was informed of the prince’s absence the next morning when she was woken up by her maid.
It seemed that she was the only one that was confused by this action of his. It was one thing to avoid her, but running away was completely ludicrous. Everyone in the court blamed her, saying things such as: ‘Of course he ran away, have you heard about his wife?’.
A manhunt began, in hopes of finding the prince to return him home safely. Even prince Maekar left to look for his son. Even though she knew it wasn’t her fault, she still couldn’t help but feel guilty.
She wondered what made him hate her so, what made him decide to run from her in the middle of the night. She could tell that the drunken words he spewed to her were a lie, just something to make her fall into a false sense of security so she would allow him in her. Still, she wanted to see him, to talk to him.
In the past, she thought that if they had been physically separated, it would have helped the situation somehow. That if she left, her life would be better. Now she could tell that it was not the answer. For either of them.
Even though she didn’t believe in the gods all too much, she couldn’t help but pray to them. Praying for them to return her husband back unharmed so they may sew the torn seam between them. Getting the answers she so desperately needed.
The gods answered, but they didn’t fulfill her wish wholly.
When she heard of the news, it was the middle of the night. She had asked her maid to wake her if there was any new information on Daeron’s whereabouts. The moment the maid called out her name in a quiet wisp, she knew he had returned.
Wasting no time to go to him, she didn’t even let her maid finish the sentence, getting up and running to his room. She knew she looked like a madwoman, bolting down the hall as if she were a child. But she didn’t care, she wanted to talk to Daeron. She needed to see him.
Being so caught up in the moment, she didn’t even bother knocking, barging into the room. She expected Daeron to be there, tired, and most likely drunk. What she wasn’t anticipating was the horde of maesters surrounding the bed.
Prince Maekar stood at the foot of the large mattress, blocking her view of what laid past him. Everyone noticed her enter, turning their heads to see.
The maesters were quick to signal the prince, before turning back to Daeron’s limp body. Following their command, Maekar began to walk to her. She tried to move away from him, hoping to get a glimpse of her husband, but Maekar was quick to block her view.
“What is going on?” She looked at Maekar, needing answers.
“Let’s go outside.” Maekar said, grabbing her shoulder lightly to usher her outside.
“Is Daeron alright?” She wondered, passing under the doorframe.
Panic began to set in. Never before had she seen the old prince so disheveled and worried. Something was wrong, very wrong.
She couldn’t help but feel as though it were all her fault. If she refused to marry Daeron, if she had forced him out of her room that night, he would have never run away. He would have been safe.
Maekar began to explain that Daeron was found on the side of a dirt road just outside of Duskendale: He was without a horse; They found no money on him; And his clothes were torn. Bruises and cuts littered his body.
Worst of all, Daeron was passed out, and nothing could wake him.
The maesters said it was a miracle that he lived. If he had returned to the palace any later, there was no doubt that he would have died.
“May I see him?” She begged. “Please.”
“I do not believe you would want to see him in such a state.” Maekar tried to convince her otherwise.
“I am his wife.” She reminded Maekar, even though Daeron didn’t act as though they were married. “I want to see what has become of my husband.”
With a deep sigh, Maekar rubbed his tired eyes. He didn’t have the heart to reject her, knowing that if he were in her position, he too would demand to see. “Alright. We need to stay out of the maester’s way as they do their work.”
She nodded her head in agreement, following Maekar back into the room. Even though she wanted nothing more than to see him, after hearing of the state Daeron was found in, scared her greatly.
Hiding behind Maekar, they stood at the end of the bed. With a deep breath, she moved to be beside her father-by-marriage. Stunned at the horrific sight, she had to cover her mouth to stop herself from making a noise and disrupting the maesters.
Daeron laid barren on the bed, allowing his beaten body to be freed. There were multiple cuts: The largest one spanning across his chest, down to his abdomen; The smallest ones were only the size of a pinky, scattered all over. Many purple bruises strewn over his body, but the darkest one was around his ribs. She could see the broken bone trying to push out of his skin.
One maester worked on sewing the wounds, while the other tried cleaning the blood. The last maester focused on making different salves to apply to the wounds so they would not get infected.
All she could do was watch, praying to the gods that they would allow him to live. Allow them to talk and come to an understanding so they may go back to the way they were before.
After the maesters had finished, she was left alone with Maekar, and Daeron’s unconscious body. When asked when he would wake again, the only answer that could be given was: When the prince is ready.
A chair had been dragged next to Daeron’s head. She sat in it and stared, hoping that at any moment he would wake. The longer she waited, the more she spiraled, telling herself that it was all her fault.
That her husband would die, because of her.
“This is all because of me.” She said aloud as the tears built on the brim of her eyes.
“Do not blame yourself.” Maekar tried comforting her, placing a strong hand on her shoulder. “He has done this many times, long before he met you.”
“But this time it was due to me.” Her tone came out angrier than intended. “And now he is laying in this bed with no signs of life.”
A lump of silence laid between them for a moment. Maekar didn’t wish to argue with her, knowing that no matter what he said, she would blame herself. After a deep breath, Maekar was able to ask the question he had for months.
“If I may ask,” Maekar’s voice was quiet, not knowing if he wished to know. “What caused you two to distance yourselves from one another?”
“I do not know.” Her composure broke as the overwhelming emotions bubbled up. The words were breathy and filled with stutters, but still, she was able to get them out. “One day he was begging me to run away with him, and then the next he was refusing to marry me.”
Maekar made the odd comment, “He must have had a dream.”
“A Dream?” She wondered in between shaky breaths. Tears stained her face as the liquid dropped into her lap.
Daeron had mentioned his dreams when he came to her room that night. But when she asked questions, he never clarified. It made her think about what kind of dreams could affect him so strongly that would cause him to ignore her. They were just dreams, right?
“They are beyond my understanding.” Maekar shook his head lightly, gaze making its way over to Daeron. “He dreams of things that haven't happened yet.”
“Like a prophet?” She asked, needing more clarification.
“In a way.” Maekar told her, looking sadly at his son’s bruised body. “He has never been able to understand what they mean.”
“So you believe he dreamed of me?” She turned to look at Maekar, needing to see it in his face as well.
“Most likely.” Maekar told her, looking at her before his attention traveled back to his son.
She looked over at Daeron, contemplating what he had seen. Did Daeron dream of her death? Something horrific that happens to her. Or was it that she did something wrong? Was he scared of getting hurt by her?
She tried to think back onto the other things he said that night. The only other word that stood out was: cage. Did Daeron have a dream about being caged? Was she the one that did it? Does Daeron hate her because he feels as though she tried to trap him into the marriage, just as the courts believe?
There were too many questions, none of which could be answered until he woke up.
“I am sorry it has come to this.” Maekar’s tone was sadder than before. “If he dies, I will not throw you to the streets or send you back to your parents.”
Those words were not as comforting as he thought they were. Being stuck here, thrown to the streets, or sent back to her parents. It didn’t matter, they were all the same. She would still feel sad, feeling as though she didn’t belong.
Worst of all, if Daeron died, she would never understand what he saw. They would never be able to smooth out their rigid relationship. That is what haunted her the most.
Still, she didn’t wish to tell that to Maekar, making him feel worse than he already did. All she could say to him was, “Thank you.”
‧₊ ♪˚⊹
Never once did she leave Daeron’s side, practically living in the chair stationed next to his bed. When she ate dinner, it was in his room. Eventually, when she grew tired from staring at him all day, she would lay down on the couch.
Sometimes, when she felt lonely enough, she would lay beside him on the empty space of the bed. When she did that, it was the only time she hoped Daeron wouldn’t wake up while she was there. Fearing he would just run as he had done before.
When looking at him, she pretended like everything was alright: That he was just sleeping and would wake in the morning with her; That he had wanted her there; When he opened his eyes, he would smile warmly at her, leaning in for a kiss to greet her.
But it never came.
Hours turned into days. Days turned into a week. In the blink of the eye, weeks had flown by like they were nothing. To her, it felt as though it was twenty years, and only a few minutes at the same time.
To try and fill her time, to focus on something other than the impending doom of Daeron’s last breath, she would read. The comfort of the fictional world helped her forget the distressing truth of reality.
When she read, she would become completely inthralled with the story, hoping to never stop, so she may stay in that whimsical world. Focusing on the words stained into the parchment, she didn’t even notice Daeron stirring in his place, eyes cracking open ever so slightly, turning to see who was with him.
“My love? You’re here.” Daeron whispered quietly, voice hoarse and deep from not being used in quite some time. “Why?”
Even with his injuries, he tried to move. Hoping to lean against the headboard, he groaned in pain. She was quick to discard her book, allowing it to fall onto the floor as she leaped toward him.
“Shhh.” She hushed him, trying to calm him down. Her hands reached to his bare chest, lightly pushing him down on the bed. “Don’t move too fast, it will make things worse.”
“What happened?” Daeron asked, looking around, attempting to get a hold on where he was, and how he had gotten there.
“You have as much of an idea as I do.” With Daeron more settled, she moved back to her chair, scared of being too close. “You were found beside a road, half dead.”
“Fuck. I think I was robbed.” Daeron rubbed his eyes, trying to remember what happened. “How long have you been here?”
She looked down at her hands, fingers playing with one another. She didn’t know why she was scared to tell him, maybe he would be disgusted that she was so close for so long. “Since you were returned to the palace.”
“When was that?” Daeron questioned.
“Three weeks ago.” She quietly told him.
“Gods.” Daeron sighed out
To him, he was struck in the head by some random man. Then all of a sudden, he woke up at home, with his wife sitting beside him. It was hard to comprehend that he had been asleep for weeks.
Silence fell between them as she didn’t know what to do, what to say to him. For three excruciating weeks, she had come up with many things she wished to tell him once he was conscious. But now that he was awake, her mind had gone blank.
“Let me go get the maesters.” She stood from her chair, to go find them.
“No.” Daeron was quick to grab at her arm, stopping her from going further. The pain that followed caused him to yelp, but retreat.
With her free hand, she pried Daeron’s grip off her wrist, laying it gently on his chest. “Daeron, they need to make sure that you are okay.”
“Just stay here. Please.” He begged. “Only for a bit.”
Now that she was closer, she could see the wetness building in his pleading eyes. She couldn’t say no, couldn’t leave him, when he asked for her to stay beside him. It was all that she wanted for the past few weeks, past few months even.
Sitting down beside him, she went back to thinking of what to say. How to bring the topic up. Daeron only watched her. Knowing she had something to say, he waited for her to speak up.
With a deep sigh, she started the conversation the only way she could come up with. “Why do you hate me?”
“I don’t ha-” Daeron tried to denounce her feelings.
“Stop lying to me. Please.” It came out more aggressive than intended, but it got the point across.
Daeron paused for a moment, not knowing how to navigate the situation. “I mean it when I say I don’t hate you.”
“You fled my room and put yourself in danger to get away from me.” She pointed out, trying to make him understand how it looked. How it made her feel.
“I hate myself.” Daeron finally admitted. He looked away from her in shame. “I was disgusted that I touched you like that. After everything else I have done. Drunken no less.”
“So you ran away?” She wished to confirm exactly what he had done, wondering if he was planning on coming back at some point.
“You didn’t deserve that,” Daeron sadly told her, owning up to his actions for the first time in their relationship. “I don’t deserve you.”
“No you don’t.” She agreed. After everything, he truly didn’t. But after weeks of fearing his death she realized that she still wished to be with him. To stay by his side.
As the memories flooded into his brain, he was able to recall the smaller details of that night. Snapping his head over to her, he was quick to ask, “Are you pregnant?”
“Is that really important right now?” She snarily asked. Biting the inside of his cheek, she told him the truth. “I am not.”
Daeron’s body relaxed as he let out a deep sigh.
Both times they had sex, Daeron stressed about her getting pregnant. Since they were being open with one another, she decided to bring it up next. “Why do you wish so badly to not have a child with me?”
“I want nothing more than to have a child with you.” Daeron said dreamily, like he was imagining them creating life together. Quickly, his expression turned sour, before he said, “But I mustn't, to protect you.”
“You keep saying that, but I truly do not understand what you mean.” She told him.
“I am cursed.” Daeron was saddened by the fact. “I do not wish for that curse to spread to you, let alone a child created by the both of us.”
She could tell that he wanted it: to be with her, to have a child with her. But he couldn’t. He was scared of harming her or the child. Even so, he still hurt her. To her, it would be better to be cursed with Daeron, rather than alone in this big world.
“Is this about the cage you’ve mentioned?” She wondered, going back to the things he said that night
Daeron groaned, knowing that it would be hard for him to talk about. “Can you get me some wine before we start talking about this?”
“No. You become dismissive whenever you drink.” She shot him down quickly. “I deserve answers.”
“You do.” He took a deep breath, trying to formulate his thoughts, a right way of explaining it to her. “I have dreams that become real.”
“Your father told me a few weeks ago.” She admitted, not wanting him to go through the effort to explain something she already knew. “Did you have a dream with me?”
Daeron nodded his head slowly at her, before clarifying, “But not like my other ones. You were always embedded with my dreams.”
“How so?” She tilted her head in curiosity. When Maekar told her of the dreams, she thought he saw her doing something, or something happening to her.
Daeron pauses. He was never able to explain them in a coherent way, let alone to the love of his life. The one who saved him many times from his own demise. “My dreams are shrouded in horrifying symbolism. But every once in a while, there would be a light, with the beautiful sound of humming emerging from it.”
She stayed quiet, letting him continue. Fearing if she said anything, made a noise, it would scare him away, and she would never get the chance to speak to him again.
Daeron’s brows furrowed, clearly distraught over the images he was remembering. “Everything tried stopping me from going to it, but it never deterred me.”
His expression calmed as an almost sad, relieved smile dusted his lips. “When I would grab it in my hand, the horrors around me would melt away. The sun shone brightly in the clear sky. There you would sit in the courtyard of the Red Keep, basking in the beauty of the sun. Everything was perfect. You were perfect. It made me feel at peace unlike the dreams that came before it.”
Tears brimmed the corners of her eyes. The picture Daeron painted was beautiful. She had never imagined he saw her in such a way. It made her heart clench, knowing he did care, that his distance was not because of his hatred toward her.
“You were caged in by the branches of the weirwood tree.” Once more his demeanor turned sour, remembering how poorly he misinterpreted the dream. How he ruined her life by trapping her into the marriage. “I always wanted to break you out. To save you from whatever trapped you. But I never could.”
“How does that all relate to the real world?” She wondered, still not understanding how it caused Daeron to act the way he did.
“I thought Ruben was your cage. You just seemed so unhappy with him. So I pursued you, thinking that I was helping.” Daeron was ashamed to admit it. “I was stupid to ever think that. To think that I could change fate. I realized, after we were caught, that I in fact was the cage I tried desperately to keep you out of.”
“And so you ignored me?” She asked. Even if he was the cage, it wasn’t that they were forced to marry that caused her to feel as such. It was the way he acted afterwards.
“I sound crazy.” Daeron huffed. Rubbing his face, he felt as though he was doing a horrible job at explaining. How does one put something indescribable into words?
“No you don’t.” She was quick to comfort him, praying he would not shut down again. “It kinda makes sense.”
“Really?” Daeron wondered, not believing her.
“You wanted to make sure that I wasn’t trapped.” She told him the understanding she had of the situation.
“Yes.” Daeron sighed in relief. Turning to her with more hope than before, he reached out for her hand. “You’re amazing, and so beautiful. I don’t understand why you loved me back. You have to believe me, all I wanted was for you to be happy.”
Something calmer sat in her chest as her muscles relaxed. Accepting his hand into hers, she stood from her chair, laying her weight on the very edge of his bed. Needing to be closer to him, but not too close that she could agitate his injuries.
Her fingers traced over his knuckles in circles. “Have you ever thought that the reason why I’ve felt caged is because of the way you have been acting since we married?”
“I-” Daron stuttered out, eyes going wide, but he quickly shut his mouth.
“Daeron.” She cut him off, needing to explain it to him. “If you just treated me like you did when we first met, I never would have felt the despair I have been feeling for months. I would have been happy. With you.”
Daeron went quiet. His jaw slacked forcing his mouth open as he stared at her in disbelief. It was as though she had just changed his entire viewpoint of something that was so fundamental to his being.
“Fuck.” He moaned, hiding his face in his hand in horrific embarrassment.“I really am the worst husband.”
“What did you think would happen?” She softly asked, wishing to know where his head was at. “By ignoring me.”
“I don’t know.” He mumbled before lifting his head to look at her. Tears brimmed the corner of his eyes. “I thought, maybe, if you never got pregnant, and I just died, there would be nothing tying you to the crown. So you could go and live the life you want, the life you deserve.”
“Did you ever think that maybe the life I wanted was to be beside you?” It was strange to her, that he thought she wouldn’t want that, when she never showed him otherwise.
“Why would anyone wish to place themselves beside me?” Daeron mumbled.
His shoulders were slumped as his head hung low. It was clear in his demeanor that he truly believed no one would ever want him. That he believed he didn’t deserve to have anyone. It saddened her, especially since, after everything, she wanted to be.
“I wanted to be with you, to continue to grow the connection I felt.” She told him.
“And then I messed it all up.” Daeron pointed out.
While she was wishing to help him, she wasn’t going to make the ugly reality, pretty. “Yeah, you did.”
Daeron’s hands squeezed hers lightly, needing her to understand his seriousness. “I’m so sorry. Please, let me make this up to you.”
She paused, trying to think of what he would need to do in order to win back her trust. She had forgiven, it wasn’t his fault that he was plagued with knowing the future without understanding it. But Daeron had proved that he would be there for her, even if things got hard.
“You can start by actually interacting with me.” It was simple, but was the foundation for everything else to come.
“Yes. I will be at your side all day and night.” Daeron told, ready to follow her around like a dog.
She chuckled at him, believing he was just joking with his enthusiasm. "That's a bit much.”
Daeron was serious. He would run through the castle naked if that was what it took to make up for everything. “What else?”
“You must promise that whenever you have dreams or fears like this ever again: You will talk to me first. I am your wife, we are supposed to work together.” She wanted to be there for him. To make it where he didn’t feel as though alcohol and running away was the only way to handle things.
Daeron knew it would be hard, but he was willing to do it, for her, for them. “How did I get so lucky to have a wife like you?”
“It wasn’t luck.” She pointed out. “You just didn’t leave my bed that night.”
At the time, he was disgusted with his actions, for putting her in such a position. But now, he started to feel otherwise. “Maybe it was for the best.”
“You will have to prove that to me.” She told him with a small smile.
“I am truly sorry for everything.” Daeron told her with sincerity, ready to do whatever it took to win her back. “I know I have done nothing to make you believe in me. But I promise that from this point on, I will be there for you.”
His purple eyes stared into her with such certainty. Daeron meant it, he was ready to try. Ready to act like her husband. It felt as though a boulder was lifted off of her and she was born anew.
After months of crying herself to sleep, she was finally given real hope. One that was strong and wouldn’t fade quickly like the others. She couldn’t help but let out a sob. Not because she was sad, but because she was overwhelmed with happiness.
“Shit. No, no, no. Don’t cry.” Daeron was quick to sit up, even through the pain. “What did I do? How do I fix it?”
Daeron cupped her face in his hands, caressing her cheeks lightly. He searched her eyes, trying to find the answers to his question, in them.
“It’s not that. I promise.” She said with a small smile. “It just makes me really happy to hear you say that.”
She leaned him back down, not wanting him to injure himself further. Walking to the other side of the bed, she laid next to him, needing to be close. With their eyes they made a promise. A promise to be there for each other. To talk to one another. To love.
“I know I don’t deserve it.” Daeron quietly whispered, fearing rejection. “But please, may I steal a kiss.”
Her lips turned into a shy smile as she nodded her head at him. Leaning into Daeron, she connected their lips. It wasn’t like the one they shared a few weeks ago, drunken and needy. Or the first one they shared for their own selfish desires.
This time, they were truly doing it for each other. To show the other their love. Their commitment to the marriage. That from now on, no matter what happened, they would face it all together.
“Fuck I love you so much.” Daeron moaned into her mouth. “You don’t even understand.”
Pulling away slightly, she rested her forehead against his. “Prove it. Alright?"
“As you wish, my light.” Daeron promised.
Next ->
-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-
I am so sad that this fic is coming to a close, but i needs to end at some point. I hopw you liked this chapter!!! they are finally talking again and next chapter everything will be good again <3
I dont have anything new planned at the moment, but i have absolutly loved writing for the asoiaf universe. If you want to stay up to date on new fics of mine, i suggest joining my discord server!! or if you just wanna talk, I would love that as well! https://discord.gg/NVjKHZuxeu
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About: Daeron dreamed of the same woman for ten years, saving him from his horrific nightmares. He knew her, but never met her before. No dreams could predict what would happen when he finally finds her in the most unexpected situation.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
no use of Y/N
Chapter 8: A Plea for Change
Word count: 3,071
Smut Below
<- Previous
The idea of running away and becoming a prostitute began to sound like a reasonable idea. Most days she couldn’t get out of bed, let alone leave her room. It was a feat if she sat on the couch instead.
The help began to worry for her, as they did things in an attempt to brighten her mood. The most recent one was a new book. One she had mentioned being interested once before when she first arrived.
Her hand maid had found it, ordering it to be delivered to her. When gifting the present, her maid only had one condition: she must not read it in bed.
It was a good ploy, one that worked perfectly. She found herself sitting on her couch every night, using the light of the moon to illuminate the page. For the first time in weeks she felt at peace, the slightest sliver of joy.
And of course, when anything was starting to go right for her, Daeron had to come along to ruin it.
Barging through her door, he didn’t even bother knocking. The way he tripped over himself, using the door as a brace, she could tell that he was drunk. Like always. She wished to have been surprised, shocked that he would only come to her after drinking copious amounts of alcohol.
“What are you doing here at this hour?” Her tone was deep, upset that he would come to her. After weeks since their last meeting, months after their wedding, now he had the audacity to darken her doorstep.
“My light, I am sorry that I have dimmed you.” Tears built up in the corners of his eyes as he sobbed out.
“What?” She questioned, not understanding what he was on about now. Placing the book on the table, she didn’t wish for it to somehow get ruined.
Daeron left the comfort of the doorway, dragging his shoes against the carpet as he made his way over to her. She didn’t move, believing he would keep his distance like he had for half a year.
But she was wrong. Falling to his knees, he sat in front of her. Before she had the time to move away, he wrapped his arms around her calves, trapping her in place. His face landed in the crevices between her thighs, ruffling the fabric of her dress.
“Get off me.” She demanded, pushing his head away from her body.
It was too much for her. Going from running away, to landing at her feet and using her legs as a pillow, was very disorienting. Even though she pushed him off of her, he didn’t get the hint, using the palm of her hand to support the dead weight of his thick head.
Daeron’s eyes were red, bringing out the violet in his eyes. Snot dripped down his nose as his lips were shiny, coated by saliva. It was clear that he had been sobbing for a while before he decided to stumble into her room.
“Your maid- she told me.” Daeron stuttered out, attempting to catch his breath. “It’s all my fault.”
“We have established that.” She told him plainly. “It is nothing new.”
Daeron made it obvious that he wasn’t going to run any time soon. Letting go of his face, his head landed back into her lap. His body shook as he attempted to calm down. She wanted nothing more than to get up and leave him sobbing. But there was nothing she could do with the weight of a grown man holding her down.
But at the same time, her heart clenched for him. She didn’t know why. She knew she shouldn’t feel bad. That he was the one that caused the wedge between the two of them. That he was the reason why she cried herself to sleep every night.
He never seemed to care before now, so why would she?
“You don’t understand.” He muttered the words into the fabric on her thighs. “All I wanted to do was save you.”
There he went on again. Pretending to be her great savior, while it was he who was the one she needed to be saved from. It was aggravating how he proclaimed to be doing it for her benefit, when it was really for his own.
“From what?” She asked.
For the first time since they got married, he was opening up to her, answering the questions she so desperately needed to hear. Even though she wished to leave, she needed to stay and hear his explanation.
“The cage.” He sobbed while lifting his head to look at her.
His words were true, whatever they meant. This cage he talked of was something he believed was real. She could see it in his eyes, the fear he felt from the bottom of his soul. Yet, she didn’t understand what exactly he meant.
“You’re not making any sense” She told him, in hopes of him explaining more.
Though, in Daeron’s drunken state, no explanation would fully make sense. “My dream’s. I wanted to save you like you saved me.”
The tears slipped from his eyes, sliding down his cheek and pooling on the bottom of his chin. She stayed quiet, trying to get a look into his mind through his dilated pupils. He looked up at her, begging for her to believe him.
“I thought I was saving you. I was wrong.” He sobbed. “I was- am- the cage that keeps you trapped. I didn’t want this for you.”
Still, his words were not connecting with one another, but she did get a clearer picture. She truly did feel trapped in the marriage, in the castle. At least Daeron recognized that. It relieved her slightly knowing that her pain and suffering weren’t going unnoticed. Yet, he didn’t do anything to try and fix it.
Maybe this was him trying to fix it.
“Daeron-”
Before she could get her sentence out, he surged toward her, connecting their lips. It was the first time Daeron had shown her any form of affection since the night they slept with one another.
A kiss. Just like the one that started it all. A desperate plea for help. A way to show one’s feelings in a way that couldn’t be expressed by words. She could hear it in the way he pressed into her.
Daeron was desperate. Desperate for her affection. Desperate for her apology. All of the built up emotions from the past couple of months spewed from his lips, into hers.
Part of her wished to push him away. Yell at him for daring to do such a thing, after the way he had been treating her. But under his touch, she was weak. She needed it as much as he did.
His hands slid up her legs, dragging her skirt up from the floor. She didn’t do anything to stop him. The feeling of being wanted, after months of thinking she was nothing more than a nuisance was validating. All she could do was take his love. Hoping and praying that it would not end with everything going back to the way it was before.
“I want you.” Daeron mumbled into her lips.
Daeron’s hands snuck under the bunched fabric, feeling the bare skin of her legs. He stopped half way up her thighs, pulling away from her to nestle his head into the crux of her neck, breathing in her scent.
“I need you.” Daeron pleaded quietly, breath tickling the hairs of her neck. “Please let this shameful husband of yours have you.”
The thumping of her heart echoed against her rib cage. She was sure Daeron could hear it. She hesitated, wondering if she should say yes, if she wanted it. Sharing warmth with Daeron made her hopeful that things could be better, could be good.
Sheepishly, she nodded her head. Praying that this would fix things. That they would be able to come together. That Daeron would treat her as his wife, not his burden.
Daeron wasted no time getting under her skirt, placing his head in between her thighs. The fabric cascaded down his shoulders, hiding him away from her curious gaze. Grabbing her hip, Daeron shifted her to the edge of the couch, so he may have easier access to her. To devour her fully without anything impeding his actions.
“I’m a selfish, selfish man.” Daeron mumbled, mostly to himself.
Still, he delved into the heat that pooled between her legs. A gasp was let out from her throat as he licked between her folds. There was no rhythm, no attempt at pleasing her to reach an end.
Daeron drank her like he had been deprived of water for days. As if he would die if he didn’t hydrate himself off of her. He was greedy in the way that he licked her for his own pleasure.
Even though his goal was not to please her, he still did. Through the fabric of the dress, she held onto the top of his head. With her head thrown back, leaning onto the back of the seat, her chest rose rapidly as she moaned into the open air.
The sound of Daeron’s wet tongue mixing with the liquid dripping from within her, mingled with the moans that came from deep within. One of Daeron's hands trailed down his body, reaching in between his legs.
Freeing his cock from his trousers, Daeron rubbed his hardened length. He began to whimper into her. Whines, pathetic noises that vibrated in between her folds. It made her legs instinctively try to close, holding him there, trapping him.
Daeron’s free hand snuck up to her breast, squeezing it through her dress. She placed her hand over his, wishing to touch him in any way she could. She felt as though she was drowning in pleasure, finally being touched after so long.
She could tell Daeron was close with the way his moans grew in volume. His mouth was all over her vagina, licking, sucking, nibbling on every crevasse and fold. A jolt went through his body as he froze his movement. A string of deep guttural moans were felt against her wetness.
Thinking that her husband would continue and help her get off, she stayed still, waiting for him to calm down and continue. But to her dismay, he didn’t.
Pulling away from her, Daeron remerged, out from under her dress. The lower half of his face glistened from his messy eating. Breathing heavily, they stared at one another. She did not hide her clear displeasure. Her face held a deep frown while her eyes asked the question: Why did you stop?
Daeron clearly didn’t pick up on the clues given by her. His eyes were glossy. A haze draped over them as he swayed slightly. Still, she waited. Watching him carefully to see what he would do next. Hoping that things could turn around for the better.
Standing from his kneeling position, she took note of his cock still being hardened. Instead of pulling his trousers up and leaving the room, like she expected, Daeron leaned over her, going for her lips once more.
Due to her still sitting, she had to crane her neck up to meet his lips. The sour taste of herself spread across her tongue. She wished to run from it, to get it out of her mouth, but Daeron only subjected her to it more as he pushed his tongue past her teeth.
She whined, not used to the feeling. His tongue slithered around her mouth. She moved hers away from his, in hopes of not getting in the way. They breathed each other's air, mingling the hot, wet mess.
When Daeron moved away, she tried to chase him, follow him so she may never lose his warmth again. Even though he pulled away from the kiss, he didn’t go far, staying close to her.
“I am despicable,” Dareon sighed out. “A sick joke of a human being.”
She couldn’t respond. She didn’t wish to comfort him, to tell him that it was wrong. Because it wasn’t. All he did was state the truth, and she didn’t wish to lie. Any response would be ingenuine, so she thought it would be better to keep her mouth shut.
With his hands on her shoulders, Daeron led her to laying her back on the cushion of the couch. There was barely enough room for her, but Daeron found a way to wedge himself in between her legs, sitting on his heels as he pulled her dress up.
One of her hands held onto the edge of the couch bracing herself, while the other laid on her stomach. She felt the heat of his hard cock press in between her lips. A gasp escaped her throat as he pushed into her.
It was different from the first time they had sex. This time Daeron didn't enter her slowly, allowing her to adjust. He buried himself inside of her with haste, like he would die if he wasted a moment more.
Since it had been a while since their last time, her body wasn’t used to it. The hand that was on her stomach shot up to grab at him, needing to ground herself through the pain.
Daeron leaned into her grasp, moving to lay on top of her. His entire weight caged her against the couch. His breath tickled the hairs of her neck as he repositioned himself to fit into easier.
His hands traveled down her body, snaking under her body to grab at the skin of her butt, pulling it back so nothing would be able to get in the way of burying himself into her as far as he could physically go.
It was almost as if he was trying to crawl inside of her. To use her as a protection from the horrors of the outside world.
“I don’t deserve you” He moaned into her neck, rolling his hips slowly against her.
Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, hoping to keep him inside of her. She feared that the moment he stopped, he would leave her again, alone in the large castle. So she held on tight, as much as she could, so he may never escape.
Tears streamed down her face as a wave of emotion washed over her. Everything from the past few months had spilled over. Her moans were broken, sad, like a cry for help. A cry for Daeron to treat her properly. To keep thrusting into her to make it all right again.
He didn’t move from his position, keeping close, cradling her in his arms. He moved as he pleased, there was no reasoning to what he did. It was as though he wanted to feel her at every angle, every speed, feeling every bump and crevasse of her.
At that point, she didn’t care about the pleasure, about anything other than Daeron laying with her, being with her, staying with her. She would let him do whatever he wanted as long as it was with her.
Daeron’s hips began to rut into hers with desperation. Quick, short, powerful thrusts leading to his end. Whimpering into the skin of her neck, she felt liquid spill into her womb. She laid frozen, shocked that he would finish inside of her after how much he prayed for her not to get pregnant.
They breathed in unison, as they were one.
It frustrated her that he still didn’t take care of her pleasure, her end. But at least she had him.
“You are the air that I breathe.” Daeron tiredly mumbled to her. “The light of my life.”
She didn’t know whether to believe it or not. It felt as though he truly meant them. But at the same time, if she was: why would he run from her? Avoid her like she would burn him? She had never given him any reason to fear her.
“Then why?” She quietly asked him, hoping that now he would be more open to explaining in full detail.
But her question went unanswered. So she laid and waited to see what he would do next. Fearing that he would get up and leave her without another word, going back to how they were before.
His breath slowed to a calming rhythm. Shaking his shoulders ever so slightly, she called out to him. Still no answer. Daeron was dead asleep, his softened cock buried deep inside of her, keeping his seed from spilling out.
Lips drawing in a tight line, she didn't know what to do. There was no easy way to get him off of her. She was stuck there until he woke up. But at the same time, it wasn’t the worst fate in the world.
She couldn’t see his face, no matter how hard she tried. She hoped that it was peaceful, that he smiled, happy to be with her. Combing her fingers through his messy hair, she began to feel the exhaustion hit her as well.
With Daeron as a blanket, she fell into a warm slumber.
‧₊ ♪˚⊹
Her eyes shot open as she felt empty. A cold breeze flowed through her. Looking around she realized that she was alone. Daeron had left her. She began to wonder if he was even there in the first place. If she fell asleep while reading and dreamed of it all.
With haste, she lifted the skirt of her dress up, bridging her fingers to her vagina. She gathered some of the substance onto her fingers to inspect. There was no denying the events when his seed laid on her fingers, and deep within her.
It was crushing: To be left after she had been given the smallest sliver of hope. All feelings of relief during their moments together had flown away in the wind, leaving the soul crushing fact that nothing would change.
She felt used. Disgusted that she let him.
Not even being able to stand, she laid back down on the couch. The place she let him into her so vulnerably and got betrayed.
All she could do was cry. Holding onto herself in hopes to get any form of comfort. Time began to warp as all she could do was drown in despair. Eventually, she passed out from the overwhelming sadness. Leaping into the darkness that he had left her in.
Next ->
-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-
This chapter came out more devastatingly than I was expecting- ANYWAYS next chapter they will finally talk!!! there will be a lot happening so i am expecting it to be along. and with finals coming up, it might be a couple of weeks until I can get to it.
Thank you all so much for reading and leaving your comments!! I love seeing what you all have to think, so please let me know your thoughts!!!
Love you all! <3
Taglist (If you wish to be added/removed from this list, comment or dm me):
About: Daeron dreamed of the same woman for ten years, saving him from his horrific nightmares. He knew her, but never met her before. No dreams could predict what would happen when he finally finds her in the most unexpected situation.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
no use of Y/N
Chapter 7: Caged for All to See
Word count: 2,469
<- Previous
Months after their wedding, she had finally gotten settled into The Red Keep. The fruits of their first night together were barren, as she ended up not being pregnant. While it was a blessing, she also was devastated by the fact.
She did wish for a child, but now she knew that there would be no way of her having one, as Daeron was adamant to never getting her pregnant. All she could do was try to find the better things in life.
Even that was extremely difficult. When she moved to the palace, she had hoped to make friends. To find her people that would be there for her. Those dreams were crushed the moment she arrived.
She didn’t know how word of her and Daeron lying with one another out of wedlock spread, but she had her suspicions: Believing that the Flint sisters wrote to their friends at court to inform them of the actions of their new princess.
No one wanted to even give her a chance. The web of lies had been spun, growing larger and larger by the day. Some of them were absolutely ludicrous, while others were closer to the truth. No matter what was said, everyone believed it.
For months, she was the hot topic of the court. Just as the rumors calmed down, someone would make something new, and spread it around, causing all of the other lies to be dug back up.
Not even the other members of the royal family wished to associate with her. The only ones who knew the truth of the situation were Maekar and Daeron. Neither of them wished to correct the courts, defending her by admitting that it was Daeron who initiated the act.
The royal family was already a mess, the last thing they wanted was to make themselves look worse. So Maekar thought it easier for the blame to fall on her, not his son, or him for raising such a idiotic man.
She kept to herself, avoiding large crowds, spending most of the time in her room. The only people she would interact with were the help. Even though they would talk to her, she could never call any of them her friend. There was an imbalance that would never be changed, one that was not healthy for any true friendship.
The thing she hated the most was when she was forced out of her room and to stand beside the court that hated her so adamantly. Most of the time, she was able to escape the activity without upsetting anyone. But when the King called for everyone to listen to his decree, she would not be able to leave.
She preferred to stand in the back, avoiding the eyes of others. Even if there were no people standing behind her, her presence never went unnoticed. Seeing it all, she tried her hardest to ignore the sparing glances and words whispered behind hands.
Others didn’t have the decency to keep their decorum, gossiping for anyone to listen in on. She always felt as though when people acted as such, they were trying to get a rise out of her, hoping for her to lash out, so they had another reason to persecute her.
She was always able to keep her composure, somehow. That tended to lead to more rumors about how cold hearted, uncaring to the horrors she committed. But it was better than causing a scene.
‧₊ ♪˚⊹
The court had just been dismissed by the king. He had important information to share, forcing all of the nobility to crawl out of their hiding holes to listen. Her hopes to escape without anyone noticing her were only dreams.
Everyone in the court liked to mingle after these kinds of things, talking to one another and spreading their gossip even more. They stood around like a herd of sheep, blocking her exit.
“Isn’t that woman there one of the princesses?” A young lady of the court asked the friend that stood beside her. Her words were shrouded in wisps of air, clearly attempting to be quiet, yet failing miserably.
“Yes, she’s married to Prince Daeron.” The older friend replied.
She didn’t wish to hear it, knowing whatever the two women wanted to discuss about her would only darken her mood father more than it already was. But with all of the people that surrounded her, it was impossible for her to walk away without drawing more attention to herself.
All she could do was stand there, looking down at the ground as she hoped to blend in with the crowd and disappear. Her fingers danced around one another anxiously, attempting to take her mind off the voices that loomed from behind.
“Why does no one talk to her?” The young lady wondered.
“Have you truly not heard?” The older woman gasped in shock, excited to be the one to share the news of the princess’ mishaps. “She seduced the prince only a few nights before her wedding to Lord Flint’s son.”
“Really?” The young lady’s tone rose in surprise. It was clear she was happy to hear the information, ready to and spread the word to any who hadn’t known previously.
The older woman hums in confirmation, confident that it was true. “They were forced to marry. You can tell prince Daeron despises her with how much he actively avoids her.”
The worst part of it all was that none of it was true. It was a lie. But even if she spoke up now, they would not believe her. The most likely outcome of that would be them laughing in her face and running off to tell others what she had said.
“How awful of her to put a prince in that position.” The young lady said in disgust.
She could feel the eyes burrow into her shoulder blades. They were watching for a reaction, waiting to see what she would do or say. Keeping a close, calculated eye on her. She felt her lungs begin to shrink as it became harder to breathe.
“I know! Imagine what she would do to her friends if she had any.” The older woman scoffed at the idea.
Laughing, the young lady agreed. “Good thing no one wants to be friends with her.”
“Right?” The woman’s words came out louder than intended, drawing attention to herself.
Even though eyes were on them, they couldn’t help themselves from laughing loudly at the idea. Her having friends: What a joke, right? The courts were truly cruel, out casting anyone that stepped out of line.
Her only saving grace was the fact that people moved away from the laughing girls, not wishing their ears to be pricked by their high pitched cackles. It gave her the space she needed to squeeze past and make her escape.
As she did so, she was finally able to lift her head from the ground, eyes scanning the room for the nearest exit. To her greatest dismay, while quickly looking throughout the room, a disheveled Daeron caught her eye.
Daeron leaned against the wall of the court, hunched over as if he too wished to disappear. He talked to no one, so it was curious as to why he stood around. Daeron was never one to appreciate talking amongst the court, or being around them in general. Always taking off the moment they were dismissed.
It did seem as though there was a reason why he stuck around. Daeron’s eyes were trained tightly on her, as though he was inspecting every little detail from a far. It sickened her, the thought of Daeron watching as she got humiliated, and did nothing about it.
Humiliation rose to anger as his eyes trailed to meet her soured expression. Before she knew what she was going to do, she began to make long strides across the great hall. No longer caring about what the court would say, she knew she needed to talk to him.
It had been about a week since they last saw two another. Daeron did a very good job at avoiding her. Ever since they arrived at Kings Landing, Daeron had hidden in many different places, making it impossible for her to find him.
On the rare occasions that their paths accidentally cross, Daeron makes it a point to turn and run. There had only been a few times that she was able to exchange words with her husband. But the conversation never went far, as he was too drunk to form a sentence.
Now, he was clearly sober enough to stand, so he would have a decent enough mind to hold a conversation with her. She was determined to get everything sorted out. To get answers from him as to what had gone so horribly wrong.
Realizing that he was her target, he quickly looked around, trying to figure out how to get away before she arrived at her destination. While he wasn’t drunk, the alcohol in his system caused his mind to slow.
Before he could move, she had stopped right in front of him, arms crossed, clearly upset.
“We need to talk.” She told him, but it was more of a demand.
“I would love to but-,” Daeron attempted to find an excuse. A reason as to why he couldn’t be around her, “My father needs me.”
She didn’t believe a word that fell from his mouth. There was no way she would allow him to escape this, escape her. Taking the leap, she grabbed Daeron’s hand, holding it tightly in hers.
Unwillingly, he followed her as she tugged him through the hall, toward the doors. Eyes locked onto the two, as many began to whisper. While she cared deeply, she knew that things could not get worse than they already were.
So let them speak. Let them wonder why she was dragging an uncomplying prince out of the hall. Her hope was that the conversation would lead to something that could better her situation. Because she didn’t know how much longer she could take it all.
Daeron followed her quietly, not saying a word. While he never attempted to pry himself out of her grasp, she knew if her fingers released him, he would run from her. Causing her to be stuck in the same position.
Entering the art gallery, she believed that no one would find their way into the room and stumble upon their conversation. Part of her wished to keep a hold on his hand, to make sure that he would not scamper away. But she also knew that Daeron could not move when he was cornered, she definitely had him cornered.
Before talking, she took a few deep breaths, glaring at him. While she did so, she tried to find a way to start the conversation, to get him to answer her questions honestly, and not avoid the topic.
“I can’t keep doing this.” She stated.
“You wish to seek a divorce?” Daeron wondered. It was ironic, even though he was the one that drove her to this, he acted sad. Devastated by the idea of her wishing to leave.
“Well yes, but I know that is not possible.” She responded to him honestly. If he didn’t care about protecting her feelings, then she wouldn’t care about his. “I mean the court.”
Daeron relaxed ever so slightly. Yet, he was still confused as to the meaning of this meeting. “What about them?”
“They say I seduced you.” She explained.
Daeron did not answer with words, but he didn’t need to, his expression said it all. It wasn’t one of shock, like she was hoping. But one that seemed to agree with the lies the court had clung to.
“What is that supposed to mean?” The pain in her chest tightened, getting worse.
“I didn’t say anything!” Daeron tried to defend himself.
“No, but you made a face.” Her finger rose into the air, getting close to his nose, as she pointed at it accusatorily.
“What face?” Daeron questioned, truly not knowing what she was on about.
“Are you trying to say that I seduced you?” Her voice began to rise as the heat in her body boiled. “If anything, it was you who seduced me.”
“What do you expect from me?” Daeron asked, wishing for the conversation to end so he did not have to feel like a failure more than he already did. “The courts will believe what they want.”
“You are my husband, you are supposed to defend me, my honor. You’re a prince, they will believe your word over mine.” Her finger trailed down to his chest, poking at the fabric of his coat.
“They will never believe the word of a drunk.” Daeron explained the reason.
“You can at least try.” She pleaded. “I know you hate me-”
“I do not hate you.” Daeron was quick to cut off her words.
It was the same song and dance. He said one thing, but meant another completely.
“Stop lying to me!” She shouted. “You wanted to have sex with me. You wanted to ruin my betrothal with Ruben. The least you could do is try and calm the rumors that spread through the halls.”
“I never wanted this.” Daeron added.
“So what do you want?” She spat. “First you say you want to marry me, then when you get that, you act as though I have killed you. Plagued you to such a horrible life. When it is I who has suffered.”
“That is why I didn’t want to marry you.” He finally gave some reasonable explanation, yet it wasn’t enough at this point.
“It is done now. We are married, there is no changing that.” She tried to remind him. “The least you could do is treat me with some decency.”
“It would be best if you avoided me.” Daeron told her.
Her voice cracked as she continued to pry answers out of him. “Tell me what changed? What have I done to make you become cold?”
“It’s not you.” Daeron tried to comfort her, but it only caused her more distress.
“Then what?” She sobbed. “What do I need to do to fix this?”
As her composure crumbled away as she broke down. She could tell Daeron was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, but she couldn’t help it. After months of wondering, thinking that something could fix this, fix them, the dream had finally been crushed.
“There is nothing that can be done.” Daeron stated sadly, beginning to walk away from her. “It is above your understanding.”
She should have never talked to Daeron. She should have known that it would only make things worse. Sitting in the quiet room, all hopes of ever having a bearable life in the capital, married to Daeron, dissipated.
Next ->
-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-
Hello All!!! This chapter was super hard to write because my life has been pretty hard and writing depressive stuff isn't helping lol. But i also wanted to write lol.
Things will get better from here!!!
hope you all enjoyed!!
Taglist (If you wish to be added/removed from this list, comment or dm me):
About: Daeron dreamed of the same woman for ten years, saving him from his horrific nightmares. He knew her, but never met her before. No dreams could predict what would happen when he finally finds her in the most unexpected situation.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
no use of Y/N
Chapter 6: Clip Her Wings so She May Never Fly Again
Word count: 2,887
<- Previous
Lord Flint was truly a generous man, being the most forgiving person to have ever lived. Truthfully, he didn’t forgive her for the actions; For ruining everything that had been given to her when he could have taken, instead.
Still, he was kind. He chose to forgive her fathers debts, annulling any contract that had ever been written up. While it seemed as though everything would be fine, it was not. The village struggled, and now, they had no outside support. Being left to their own devices.
The only cruel thing Lord Flint had done was request that the crown didn’t give their support to the village. That only Daeron’s bride would be the one to receive royal treatment. Prince Maekar couldn’t refuse the request, it was the only way he could make up for his son's action.
With the new contracts written, it was set in stone. She would marry Daeron, separating herself completely from her family. Even though she would be a princess, her family won’t gain any advantage for marrying into the royal family.
Truly, the only one that gained anything from this was her. She knew how it looked, how the courts would see her: As an impudent woman who only did things that benefitted her, not caring how it affected others, how it affected her family.
That was far from the reality of it all. No one gained from the situation. It was a poor joke that the gods played, and they were the toys. Even though Daeron had proclaimed he wanted nothing more than to marry her, now he avoided her like the Great Spring Sickness.
It made her realize that her mother was right, even if she didn’t wish to believe it. Daeron never truly cared for her like he said, acting as though he never said the words ‘I love you’. It was sickening. After they had been caught, after their discussion, he had made it a point to voice his great disagreement for the marriage, even in her presence.
Part of her wished to call it off herself, so she didn’t have to marry a man who wanted nothing to do with her. But she had to think of herself, just as Daeron did when he entered her, taking her maidenhood.
If she called off the wedding, her parents would disown her. She would be thrown out of the town, forced to find her own way. That was the last thing she wanted. A woman, alone in the world, was one in constant danger. She would most likely have to turn to prostitution to have a roof over her head, and she didn’t want that.
There was still no confirmation if she were pregnant or not. The mere thought of having to give birth and raise a child on her own was terrifying. So the only option was to marry Daeron. Marry the man that wanted nothing to do with her. For her own survival.
At least, even if Daeron hated her, she would live as a princess: in a castle, no worries about food, and help to raise the child in her absent husband’s stead. Her life may not be perfect. There was no doubt she would have many struggles. But she knew she would be taken care of
Never before had she regretted an action so strongly. She should have known. Should have had the strength to say no, rather than so adamantly agreeing to the sin. But if sin wasn’t alluring, no one would do it. That is why it was a sin.
‧₊ ♪˚⊹
She and her family had left before the royals. Even though all of the preparations for a wedding had been made in Flint’s Fingers, there was no possibility of Lord Flint allowing the union to be made under his roof.
Kings Landing was too far, and with the possibility of a scandal as large as the one that was brewing, their marriage had to be soon. The only other place it could be hosted was her home. Thankfully it was on the way to Kings Landing. That would make the travel afterwards easier for the ones who would be heading to the capital.
Her wedding would not be as grand as she originally thought. Practically nothing due to it being thrown together last minute. The only thing she was able to keep from the wedding she was to have with Ruben, was her dress. As it could not be repurposed in any way.
Everything was bland: The half dead flowers that were gathered from the nearby field, the stained cotton cloth that hung from the ceiling, the torn tapestry that held their family’s crest.
The little money they had was spent getting to Flint’s Fingers and back. All they could do was ask the villagers for support, in hopes to decorate the hall decently enough for a royal wedding.
It was an insult, truly. First her father wasted all of their tax dollars on himself, and now he had the audacity to ask for more. To cater a wedding that wouldn’t even be saving them from their horrible situation.
Refusing, many of the villagers protested the wedding, promising to not even attend.
The message was loud and clear when the time finally came for the bride to walk down the aisle, when the only people in attendance were the personal friends of the family. Not even the other members of the royal family were able to attend, as there was not enough time for them to travel all the way out.
It was quiet, like most weddings during the ceremonies. The few people that decided to attend sat quietly in their seats. The old wood creaked under the shifting weight of the viewers. They were uncomfortable by the clear disinterest from the bride and groom.
It showed on their faces that neither of them wanted to be married. A wedding was a joyous occasion, one to be surrounded in excitement, representing a new chapter of their life. But now, they looked as though they were being sent to the gallows, that it was a death sentence to marry to one another.
Many didn’t know the true reason for the change of groom. Their lord lied to them, saying that the prince wished to marry his daughter instead, and he couldn’t refuse. The spectators could tell it was a lie just by the look on Daeron’s face.
When the septon requested they say their vows, it was done with whispered breath. They could barely hear themselves speak the promise to the gods, to each other. It was almost as if they didn’t mean the words they said.
As the sad ceremony came to an end, sparse, slow claps echoed throughout the empty hall. There was one last task that needed to be completed before they could feast. The thing that concluded it: a kiss.
Their hands were still held together, bound by the long sheet of cloth. Daeron’s hand was warm, slightly damp from being encapsulated in warmth for so long. He had successfully avoided her eyes until that moment.
When he looked at her, for the first time in weeks, he had frozen still. Daeron’s facial expression softened, almost giving a hint of a smile. Her heart fluttered against her ribcage, as hope filled her.
Daeron gazed at her like he did the first time they met, with such strong adoration. Maybe the past few weeks were just a snag. Maybe he didn’t regret his action. Maybe he won't despise being married to her.
Her lips almost upturned into a smile as he leaned into her. Eyes fluttering shut, she awaited for him to connect their lips into a kiss, like they did in the library.
Every hope and dream she held onto were shattered like a pane of glass as his head slid past her lips, ghosting a peck against her cheek. Heart clenching tightly in her chest as her lips deepened into a frown.
Pulling away from her, Daeron didn’t even give her the decency of looking at her once more. The septon untied their hands, declaring them now as they are, husband and wife. Daeron was quick to retract his hand to his side, like touching her scorched pale skin.
All she could do was stare at him in disbelief, tears brimming in the corner of her eyes. Walking down the aisle was more of a sprint, as she tried her hardest to get away from the prying eyes.
As she entered the empty halls of her home, she heard a voice call out to her. It was ironic that now, after everything, Daeron wanted to talk to her, to stop her from running from him. For weeks, it was all she wanted, for him to acknowledge her. But now that he was, it was the last thing she wanted.
Needing to cry, she didn’t want Daeron to see, he didn’t deserve to see her so vulnerable again. Running to her room, she shut the door behind her. Right as she made it to her bed, her legs gave out as she fell to the floor.
Using the mattress of her bed to muffle her cries, she released all the emotion that was building up over the weeks. There was no going back now. They were married, bound by duty for eternity. And Daeron could barely interact with her.
She didn’t hear the door opening over her own sobs. Only being alerted when the person who entered, spoke up.
“Darling?” Her mother asked softly.
Not wishing to be scolded any more, she sat up, wiping her eyes and trying to catch her breath. “Just give me a minute.”
“Oh sweetie.” Her mother sighed, walking toward her.
After all the weeks, the anger subsided. There was no point in kicking her while she was down. Now what was left was pity. No matter what, she was still her daughter.
Walking over to the bed, her mother knelt beside her on the floor. The presence of her mother only made her weak composure break once more. Even though she was a grown woman, she fell into her mother’s arms like a child, needing the comfort she had once gotten.
“You were right.” She sobbed into the fabric of her mother’s dress. “I was stupid for ever believing he loved me.”
“There is nothing that can be done now.” Her mother tried to console her with facts, but it was the last thing she needed.
It only made her cry harder, feeling crushed by the weight of reality. The last thing that kept her sane was the soothing strokes of her mother’s hands.
“Look on the brighter side.” Her mother tried another strategy. “You’ll be a princess. You will never have to worry about a roof over your head or food. Everything will be taken care of for you.”
“Yeah.” She sniffled, pulling away from her mother. “I guess you’re right.”
“The Red Keep is big, You will never have to see Prince Daeron unless you wish to.” Her mother added.
That comment made her feel calmer. It hurt worse when she was in the presence of Daeron, but if they lived their lives separately, it would be more bearable. She just had to get through the wedding and travel, then she would be free of all this pain.
Evening out her breath she began to calm down. Her mother never left, never pushed, sitting beside her and waiting for her to collect herself so they could return to the wedding.
‧₊ ♪˚⊹
The reception wasn’t much either. The dinners hosted at Flint’s Fingers were grander than this. To spare himself the embarrassment, their dinner was not held in the hall it normally would have, choosing the private family dining room.
Still, not even all the seats were filled. Daeron and his new wife sat beside one another, in the center. Both of their fathers sat at the head of the table. It was mostly silent, the echoes of silverware clinking against the plates filled the room.
Drink after drink, Daeron ordered the cupbearer over to refill his chalice. The drunker he got, the more her stomach stirred uncomfortably. Not too long ago did he come to her room looking for her bed, now he needed to be black out drunk to consummate their marriage.
Noticing the prince’s deeply intoxicated state, they all thought it would be best to end the reception early, before anything else became more disastrous. Thankfully enough for the married couple, there would be no bedding ceremony, no eyes to watch the depravity of their wedding bed.
Not having memorized the halls, and being too drunk to find his way around, Daeron followed quietly behind her as she walked them to her room. Not once did she glance back toward him. She knew if she did, she would retch all over herself and him.
All she could hope for was that he would have his way and finish quickly like he did the first time. That was the most preferable outcome.
Entering her room, she walked straight to her bed. Standing before it, she unclipped the chain that held his coat together. As there was no time for a special cloak to be used in the ceremony, the only thing they had to use was the one Daeron traveled with.
Taking a few deep breaths, she turned around. Daeron was heading to the door leaving without even coming close to touching her.
“Where are you going?” She asked, anger rising through her body.
Stopping suddenly, he realized that he was not able to escape without being caught. There was a moment of pause, as he thought about his words carefully. With a slight sway to his movements, he turned to her, giving the short explanation of, “My room.”
“You’re unbelievable.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and looking away from him.
She should be happy, relieved that he was not going to enact their marital duties. But at the same time, it irritated her greatly. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done it. Truly she couldn’t understand what changed, what happened to make Daeron despise her. What did she do to deserve this?
“We leave early in the morning, you should get your rest before the long journey.” Daeron was clearly deflecting, coming up with an excuse as to why he needed to leave now.
“You could at least pretend.” She seethed. “Like before.”
While her hate for Daeron grew, she still craved his attention, his touch. There were too many conflicting emotions going through her body to fully comprehend it all. She just wished he would treat her with some decency, treat her like he did before, like his wife.
Daeron sighed in defeat. He was clearly tired, and way too drunk to come up with any meaningful response. “What do you expect from me?”
“I don't know, literally anything?” Her voice began to raise. She hated that he treated her as though she dragged him down the aisle, when it was his father that was forcing him.
“I am doing something.” Daeron gave his excuses, making it known he wouldn’t do what she was wishing for him to. “I am protecting you.”
She scoffed at his words. He kept claiming he was doing the right thing, protecting her from this unknown force. She knew it was a lie, a vague reasoning that he gave to make himself feel better. “From what? Truly?”
“Being tied to me for eternity.” He sadly explained, glancing at the closed door, wishing to escape quickly.
“Oh so you are going to seek out a divorce?” She asked, believing that is what he meant by his words. “We’ve barely been wed three hours and you are already done with me?”
“I did not say that.” Daeron quietly retorted, sounding unsure of himself.
“You sure do act like it.” She snarkily pointed out.
“I don’t want to get you pregnant." Daeron’s voice raised, conveying the truth.
“I might already be pregnant.” She shot back in disbelief. Not understanding why he so adamantly wished not to impregnate her.
“I am not going to have sex with you to guarantee it.” Daeron told her with finality.
Still, she refused to believe it. They had a duty to do. “It is our wedding night, we are supposed to consummate it.”
“It’s not like we haven’t already.” Daeron said plainly. It was the truth. The whole reason why they were in this mess was because they had sex. “And everyone knows we have. So there is no point.”
“Fine. Then get out of here!” She turned away from him, not being able to stand the sight of him. “I see how this marriage will be.”
The skidding steps of his boots echoed throughout the quiet room as he walked to the door. Metal hinges creaked, yet he didn’t leave, pausing in the doorway. She didn’t dare look, he didn’t deserve it.
“Goodnight.” He softly told her, barely above a whisper.
She didn’t respond, making it a point to show her anguish over the way he was treating her. Daeron left her with the click of the door. She was alone, and even though she was married, she knew she would be alone for the rest of her life.
Next ->
-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-
Hello all!!! I am so sorry for taking so long to get this chapter out, school has been rough. This chapter was so hard to write because it was so sad. I wanted to write from the main character's persepective to show how much daeron had left her in the dark She she only thinks that she hates her, when in reality he is tryint to save her from the cage he saw in his dreams. BUT GOD IS IT SO SAD. My poor girl. The next few chapters will be much of the same until Daeron gets his act together
Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! I love hearing your opinions and it helps me stay motivated when I know there are people who are really enjoying the fic. Or if you wish to talk to me more personally, you can reach me through my discord!! (Link here: discord.gg/vN7De7PYbc)
Thank you for reading! Love you all!!!!!
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About: Daeron dreamed of the same woman for ten years, saving him from his horrific nightmares. He knew her, but never met her before. No dreams could predict what would happen when he finally finds her in the most unexpected situation.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
no use of Y/N
Chapter 5: A Beautiful Cage is still a Cage
Word count: 5,426
<- Previous
The bright sun hit her skin, warming her body. Even without opening her eyes, she felt peace, comfort, like the Gods were embracing her, protecting her from the harsh world. She stirred in the bed, wishing to find the perfect position to fall asleep once more.
The creaking of the door opening echoed throughout the room, not even a knock came to warn her before the person entered. Teetering on unconsciousness, she couldn’t figure out what exactly was happening, nor did she care at the moment.
A sharp, painful gasp ripped through the air. The surprise of a woman who had found something she wasn’t supposed to. Her eyes opened, panicked to find Daeron’s peaceful face sleeping beside her. He was supposed to have left hours ago, before anyone woke.
Jolting up in the bed, she found Emely standing by the door. Both of the women were frozen still, staring at one another, trying to comprehend what exactly was happening, what had come to light.
The evidence was clear. She had slept with Daeron out of wedlock. Her breasts hung out in the open air, proving that they were both nude under the covers. Their clothes were strewn on the floor, exactly where they were left the previous night.
Still, through all of it, Daeron slept. None the wiser to the mess he was found in. It was sickening how peaceful he looked, almost as if he knew this exact thing would happen the moment he shut his eyes beside her.
“Emely” She croaked out, trying to somehow rectify the situation. “I-”
There were no words that would ever convince Emely to keep the secret to herself. She was Ruben’s sister. His loyal sister. And she had stolen the man Emely was going to be promised to. The prince she wanted so brazenly.
Stepping backward, Emely made her way to the door, ready to inform everyone of the sins she had stumbled upon.
Jumping out of the bed, she hoped to stop the woman, to keep her secret safe. “Please don’t.”
Her pleas went unheard as Emely turned on her heel, making a swift exit. There was no doubt that Emely would tell. Shouting to the world that she was a whore to be shunned.
“Fuck!” She screamed loudly in fear, the reality of it all kicking in. Her heart was pounding as she began to feel nauseous. Her head spun along with the room. But she had to push through in hopes of stopping Emely before it was too late.
“What happened?” Daeron shot up in the bed, being startled awake from the yell. He was still groggy, not understanding what was about to ensue, what he had done.
She couldn’t even speak to Daeron, grabbing at her nightgown, and throwing it on as quickly as possible. “Emely wait, please!”
The sound of her bare feet slapping against the stone echoed throughout the halls. The help she passed jumped out of her way, confused as to why she would leave her room so undressed.
Whenever she woke up in the morning, she made sure everything was perfect. So she might be presentable for her new family. It was strange for anyone to see her so frantic and messy. To see her running after Emely with hatred in her eyes.
Emely wasn’t too far, but no matter how fast she ran, she was never able to catch up to the woman. Ducking in a room, Emely left the door open, clearly trying to get the words out quickly, before she caught up and stopped the attempt of sharing the truth.
She couldn’t hear anything, the ringing in her ears and the thumping of her heart muffled the words spoken about her. Turning into the room Emely ran into, everyone sat around the table, their food sliding off their forks as they listened in horror.
The entire Flint family, her mother and father, even Daeron’s father, prince Maekar stared silently. All looking at her, sickened by the information. Her feet became bricks as she couldn’t move, couldn’t run.
It was a while before anyone moved, said anything. They were all shocked by what she had done, and that it was exposed so publicly. Ruben was the first to move standing from his chair, he made his way to the window.
Some eyes turned to him, waiting for his reaction, needing some sort of guidance in this awful situation. Others kept looking at her, disgusted, hating her for ruining many things that had been planned for months. It was so quiet, the squeaking of a baby mouse could be heard.
“Ruben, I-” She began to apologize, knowing it was he who she hurt most.
“Don’t.” Ruben cut her off sharply.
Never before had he spoken to her in such a way. He was always so kind, so gentle. Whispering sweet words of protection and promises to her. She hated how nice he was. Knowing this would have been easier for her if he were a horrible man that deserved to be hurt in such a way.
Ruben breathed heavily, taking deep breaths to calm himself as he looked out on the horizon. Even in the face of betrayal, of hurt, he wished to handle things with a level head, diplomatically.
“Emely.” Ruben was quick to stop her, knowing that throwing insults would only make things worse, no matter how much he agreed with them.
“Explain yourself.” Lord Flint demanded to know. “Is Emely’s accusations true?”
The words caught in her throat. She found it impossible to say the words, to tell the truth of her actions. There was no nice way of saying it. She had sex with the prince, when she was supposed to marry the lord’s son.
“What’s going on?” Daeron questioned, appearing behind her in the doorway. He was able to get the gist of what happened by everyone’s reactions. He fell asleep in the safety of her warmth, and they had been caught.
Her father stood from the table, walking up to the two. Without a word, he grabbed his daughter’s wrists tightly, pulling her out of the room. She was thankful to be forced out of the room, that she wasn’t the one to turn and run. That would have looked even worse.
Yet she knew that what would come next would not go well. Nothing in this situation would ever go well.
Throwing her in his room, her father slammed the door behind them. Standing in front of it, he made sure she wouldn’t be able to escape. Her normally soft spoken father looked at her with a force of hatred, face scrunched up in anger.
“What happened?” He demanded to know, looking as though he were ready to attack her at any moment.
She cowered in place, hunched over, looking down at her feet. “I think you already know.”
“No, I need to hear it from you.” He said, wanting to make sure that what was accused was absolutely true.
The words failed her, not being able to speak them fully. She mumbled, in hopes that it would make it any less horrible. “I coupled with Daeron.”
“What was that?” Her father shouted, needing her say it with her whole chest. If she were to commit such a debaucherous act, the least she could do was own up to it. “I couldn’t hear you.”
“I had sex with prince Daeron.” The embarrassment built to anger, upset that he was being cruel. “Alright? Are you happy?”
Things went silent as he processed the information. Through the silence she hoped that he would forget the words that came out of her mouth and let her walk free.
That was far from what would happen. After thinking through every solution, he voiced the one he thought would work the best.
“Say he raped you.” His tone shifted to one void of emotion. He was being more serious than ever before. “That you did not wish for this and he forced himself on you.”
“I cannot do that.” She responded, insulted that he would even think such a thing. “Especially when it is far from the truth.”
“He is a prince, he can survive such an accusation.” The man she called father shrugged his shoulders, as if he weren’t suggesting something so horrible.
It was true, the words would hurt Daeron less than any other man. But still. She couldn’t do that, not to him. The thought of making up such a lie was awful.
“Everyone will know it is a lie.” She rebutted, trying to make her father see reason. Everyone would know it to be false, especially the way she reacted after Emely found them “It will only make us look worse.”
“I don’t care!” His voice raised once more as he could no longer hold back his fury. “If it has even a small chance of working you will do it.”
Finally, her mother reached them, opening the door and entering. Their previous conversation was cut off, as her mother sighed deeply, looking at her with disappointment.
“It’s over. They are calling off the wedding.” Her mother explained.
She had stayed back in hopes of fixing things, stopping the inevitable from happening. But she was no god, and the inevitable was inevitable. Trying every which way to say it was a mistake, that it wasn’t true, they wouldn’t have it.
It was worse when Prince Maekar joined in. He knew his son best, and knew that such a thing wasn’t past him. He owed it to his friend to tell the truth, after his son ruined the exact reason they were in the town for.
“They can't." Her father tried to plead with his wife. Hoping it was not true, that there was something else to be done that would magically fix it all. “With everything that was riding on this marriage, they can’t do this to us.”
“They can, and they are.” Her mother sternly told him, trying to get him to understand. “They have already started canceling the preparations."
“Go back in there and tell them to reconsider.” He would not give it up.
“There is nothing more to do.” Her rage began to fill her that he would not listen. “I tried my hardest.”
“Then I shall.” The man stood taller, making his way to the door.
Her mother grabbed at her father, forcing him to stay in the room with them. “You will only worsen things.”
Her mind raced as she tried her hardest to come up with any solution to stop her father. She knew that if he walked out, and discussed with Lord Flint, only lies would come out, ones that would make the whole family look a whole lot worse than they already had.
“Father is going to tell them the prince raped me.” She informed her mother, knowing the old woman would see reason on the horrible idea he had come up with.
“That is an absolutely awful thought. We will only look worse.” Her mother said truthfully, finally getting through her husband’s thick head. “Either way, she is ruined, and no one will have her. Now we have to figure out what to do with your daughter.”
“She is your daughter as well.” He reminded the woman, not wishing for this to be blamed all on him. “Even if you wish to disown her.”
That was the most likely outcome. They had every right to throw her to the streets. And then she would truly be screwed over. Not even Daeron would wish to marry her then. He would have to give up his titles, his wealth. Become a peasant alongside her.
Even if she knew he loved her, there was no way he would give up everything. Having to learn how to live like any normal person, working to survive, just to be with her. Nor would she ask him for such a thing.
“You stupid girl.” Her mother’s anger finally turned to her. Seething, she spat out, “Do you not realize what you have done? To us? To the village? To yourself?”
It was because of her she was forced into this marriage, and she couldn’t help but blame him for it all. Her father was the one who had the spending issue, losing all of the tax money for lavish luxuries that only he got to enjoy.
That is why when winter came, the village suffered greatly. People were starving and dying of the cold. It was Lord Flint that reached out a helping hand, lending them the supplies he was already low on.
Still, as spring came about, her father never changed his ways, continuing to spend more and more until there was no possible way that he could give any small percentage of it back.
Even with that, Lord Flint was generous.
He could have seized the entire village for himself, claiming it as collateral. Forcing her and her family out of the position they were in. But he didn’t. He gave an offer of marriage to his eldest son.
She was the only child of her parents, and the village would fall into the hands of her son, once she had one. So to take the village peacefully, he thought that it would be easiest to wed their children. So that a member of both families would be ruling over the land.
It was most gracious indeed. But now, with the wedding canceled, there was no telling what would happen to her, her family, or the village. Most likely they would be kicked out of their home, their position, like Lord Flint should have done originally.
“Mama please.” She begged, hoping to appeal to her mother better than she had her father. “I did not mean for this.”
“So you thought you would invite another man into your bed and nothing would happen?” The woman shouted, making it sounded like it was all just for lust and not from passionate love.
“It wasn’t like that.” She tried to fight back, say more, but she was cut off before she could explain further.
“What was it then? Tell me.” Her mother tried to make sense of it all. And then, it clicked. She realized how her daughter could have been coaxed into a situation such as this. “Oh, did you really think that he loved you?”
She did not appreciate the conceding tone her mother used. “He does!”
Or maybe it was a lie. The seed of doubt had been planted, being watered by the downpour of her mother’s words. Could Daeron had made it all up, deceiving her into a false sense of security.
“You truly can’t be so stupid to believe that, can you?” Her mother sounded embarrassed that her daughter was fooled by such silly things as love.
“I know he meant it. Just as I know I love him too.” Her voice wavered, as she tried to push through the doubt. She refused to think that Daeron didn’t mean it, that it was all for nothing.
“I am sure he meant it in the moment.” Her mother retorted, knowing how men acted when they were filled with lust and desire. “Men always believe they are in love when they wish to get in a woman's bed. Now that he has had you, I bet he doesn’t feel the same anymore.”
“You do not know that.” She fought back, wishing to believe her own words to be right. Every time she spoke, it became her trying to convince herself more than anything. “Daeron would never stop loving me, never abandon me.”
“You are hopeless.” Her mother sighed, giving up on trying to make her daughter see the truth of the situation. “If his father has any ounce of respect left he will allow us to keep our titles and force a marriage between the two of you.”
“What about the village? Father’s debt?” She wondered, not knowing what would come of them if she married Daeron instead.
“Do you think I know?” Her mother shot back. “If you truly worried about those things, you would not put us in this situation.”
“I do care.” She tried to get the woman to see that through it all, she wished for the best. To see that it was a mistake, and she never intended on getting caught.
“The damage is done, there is no point in arguing anymore.” The woman was over the conversation, not being able to look at her daughter. “All we can hope for is the generosity of prince Maekar, but since they are royalty, they have every right to reject the marriage.”
There was nothing left to say, no words she could spew in hopes of rectifying the situation. “May I leave?”
“Yes.” Her mother said, stepping out of the way of the door. The woman needed a moment alone with her husband to try and come up with a plan to fix their broken honor. “Do not dare speak to the Prince. We cannot have this getting worse.”
Walking past the two, she hesitated leaving the room, fearing what else would happen to her when she left. Looking up, her father still held the same stern, angry face, while her mother had her back to her. She wished to say something more, but knew it was useless.
Even though her mother said not to see Daeron, that it could cause more issues, she didn’t think it could get any worse. She needed comfort. To talk to the one person in the entire castle that would be on her side.
‧₊ ♪˚⊹
Daeron was sitting by the window, already a few cups deep into the pitcher of wine beside him. He was defeated, staring out the window. He felt awful, knowing that it was his fault that she was put in such a situation.
The sickest part of it all was he was also partially relieved.
After her father pulled her out of the room, everything was in disarray. Insults were hurled at any living person in the vicinity, people who were not even partially involved were caught in the crossfire.
He was there when Lord Flint called off the marriage. When Ruben proudly agreed with his fathers decision. He also witnessed her mother grovel and beg for them to reconsider, to calm down and think about it.
Through it all, it felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. That the thing they were hiding from had been removed. Now he wished to finally get what they had wanted all along, marrying one another.
Not too long after, Lord Flint dismissed everyone, except for Ruben and prince Maekar. Before Daeron left, his father demanded he stay in his room, not to search her out and make it worse for everyone else.
He truly meant to keep that promise, but he couldn’t stop her from searching him out. Not knowing what kind of deal his father was arranging with the lord, he was left to his own devices, the alcohol left in his room.
When she reached the door of his bed chambers, she listened in, making sure that there was no one other than him. Looking around the hall, checking to see that no one saw her, she entered without knocking, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention.
Seeing her disheveled state made him regret any feeling of pride he felt over the situation. Daeron was the man. He should have known the repercussions of the situation would all be forced onto her, and that he would face none of it.
Quickly, he noticed her shaking frame. Standing, he made his way over to her. “Are you alright?”
“My life is over.” She cried out.
Throwing herself on him, he held her in an awkward embrace. The tears finally broke through the barricade as she began to sob into his arms. Not even a single thought could be formed in her brain as she released her sadness.
Daeron was never one to comfort others, especially when his way of dealing with feelings was to drink them away. Yet he couldn’t find the heart to push her away and make her deal with it on her own.
“Your life is not over.” He tried to tell her. She was not dead, she would not marry Ruben. Now they could really be together. “Everything will work out.”
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe the way things had turned out. But for the first time in his life he felt it to be true, that the stars had aligned and everything would be the way it should.
“It won’t.” She tried to get him to see reason.
No matter what he said, it wouldn’t help. The decision was not up to him, nor was it up to her. She was in a limbo of the unknown. Maybe everything would work out in the end, but maybe it would all turn out horribly wrong.
“Fuck. Why didn’t you just leave my room?” Her hands moved to her face, wiping away the tears and snot.
She needed to know why, why he vexed her in such a way. It was his fault. If he had just left beforehand, they wouldn’t have been caught. They could have figured something out that wasn’t so detrimental.
“I fell asleep.” He told her truthfully. His head felt fuzzy as the alcohol really began to kick in, doing its job of making him more stupid.
“Is that really your excuse?” She spat out.
“It’s not an excuse, it’s the truth.” Daeron told her, expecting her to understand.
The realization hit her. Daeron had been begging her to marry him since the moment they met. Even though she always refused, he never gave up. What if her mother was right. That Daeron only thought of himself, never caring about what would happen to her, her family, her people.
Maybe he planned for this. Sickenly schemed his way into her bed to be caught in the hopes of her marriage being called off. The pit of her stomach began to churn as she began to believe her thoughts to be true.
“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” She asked quietly, like everything began to make sense to her
“I did not mean for this.” Daeron fought back, not appreciating her making such assumptions. “It was an accident.”
“An accident.” She scoffed, almost laughing. “One that has cost me my life. This marriage, my one to Ruben, was for my family’s survival.”
“I am a prince, I can offer you and your family more than they ever could.” He tried to calm her worries, knowing that once they married, everything would work itself out.
“That is if your father allows the marriage.” She pointed out. It wasn’t unknown to her about Maekar’s strict rule of his family, and how his sons were always a burden to him. “Lord Flint is his close friend. Why would he welcome me, the one who just destroyed that wedding, into his family?”
“I can get him to see reason.” He tried to convince her.
“I’m stuck.” She cried out, tearing herself away from him. “My fate lies in the hands of others and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Stuck.
The word rang in his head like a bell that came crashing down. Stuck, another word for:
Caged in.
There was a moment of pause. Daeron stared at her silently, shocked, finally coming to an awful conclusion, realizing the quiet symbols his brain had conjured up.
“I’m the cage.” Daeron mumbled quietly, more to himself than her.
The change in demeanor scared her, fearful of what might come next. Confused and hurt, she wondered. “What does that even mean?”
“I can’t marry you.” He closed himself off from her, she couldn’t know the turmoil that flooded through his body.
It was one thing to have prince Maekar reject the wedding. It was another to have Daeron be unwilling. The possibility of them marrying had dropped drastically, as she believed Prince Maekar wouldn’t allow the marriage if it weren’t for Daeron begging him to have it happen.
Stomach dropping, she looked at Daeron as though he just stabbed her in the heart. “You have to marry me. I beg of you.”
Of course her mother was right. Daeron never truly cared for her, if he did he wouldn’t say such a thing as abandon her in a time of need. It hurt her to think that she was just a pawn in his messed up game. Another woman to fuck and move on from. Like a true whore.
“I cannot.” He told her, void of any emotion. Even though he looked directly at her, it felt as though he was looking through her. “You will only be trapped more.”
“I am already trapped!” She shouted at him, hot tears seeping from her eyes. “You have already trapped me with your pretty words and lies of love. I may at last keep the smallest bit of respect if you marry me.”
“They were never lies.” Daeron was quick to correct her.
“Then why? Why are you so persistent in not marrying me!” She shouted, hoping to make him change his mind.
Moments ago, he was telling her it would be okay, that they would work to solve it together. Now he was completely shutting her out. This was not love. It was greed. Wishing to have her and not deal with anything that followed.
It was sick that he could get away with such a thing. He was the man. A prince no less. The only one who could force him to marry her was his father. And there was no telling if he would want a woman like her to join the royal family.
“It is because I love you that I mustn't” He tried to tell her, to make her understand why it was best for her to stay away from him. “Yes I have trapped you. And I am wrong for that. But I am leaving the door open so you must escape while you have the chance.”
“Do you not get it?” She tried to make him see that he was being stupid. Still, she wished for him to make things right. For them to marry. Even if he was shattering her heart into a million pieces. “My family will be thrown to the streets. I will be thrown to the streets. And what if I am pregnant? What then? You will have me raise your child, our child, alone with nowhere to go?”
“I cannot have you be trapped with me for eternity.”
Even though his father told him to stay in the room, he needed to leave. If he didn’t walk away now, he may go back on his words. To hug her and welcome her into his darkness. That was the last thing she needed, for her light to fade.
Leaving the room, he heard her collapse to the floor as she continued to sob into her hands. For a moment he stood outside the door, letting the ache of her cries cut into him deeply. He deserved it, the pain he felt. He knew that it was nothing in comparison to what he had just done to her.
He should have known better. That he could not beat fate. That no matter what he did, this would have been the outcome. The dream, the one that saved him so many times before, she was caged in by the branches of the Wirewood Tree.
She was never caged in Flint’s Fingers. It was always in King’s Landing. His home.
Even in his dream, he wished to break her out of it, but he never could. It was because he was the one to place her there. Forced her into a situation she never wished to be in, all for his own pleasure and delight.
Forever stuck, made to sing for him, keeping her light all to himself like the sick greedy man he was. His heart sunk as reality hit him. He was the monster, not Ruben. If he never interfered, she would have been able to fly free, live her life the way she wished to.
It hurt him. If his seed bore fruit and gave her a child, a beautiful perfect being from the both of them, he knew it would be better for them if he were not involved. They would never get caught up in the trail of horrors that always followed wherever he went, hurting the people he loved most.
‧₊ ♪˚⊹
Wanting to get it over with, Daeron searched out his father. He needed to say his wish. No, it was not his wish, but what needed to happen. That he could not marry her under any circumstance. He could not trap her.
To his surprise, he found his father alone, in Lord Flint’s personal study. The lord of the castle was most likely running around, breaking apart all of the preparations that had been made for his son’s wedding.
It was clear that his father had been stewing in anger. The look he shot Daeron could cause him to have a heart attack right then and there. “I told you to stay in your room.”
“I know.” Daeron’s confidence wavered under his father’s intense stare. “I thought it would be easier if we talked now.”
Prince Maekar let out a deep sigh, rubbing his face with his palms. “What happened?”
“I got lost in the moment.” Daeron admitted. He remembered the guilt he felt then. It should have been a sign not to do it. But like always, he couldn’t help himself. “I shouldn’t have done it.”
“No you shouldn’t have,” Maekar added, snarkily. “You are a prince, you could have had anyone you wish: maids, whores. Fuck. Having Emely would have been easier to handle. But the bride?”
“I know. I’m a fuck up.” Daeron sighed, being friends with the feeling of disappointment. “As you so ceaselessly remind me”
“This is more than a fuck up Daeron.” His father shouted. “Words cannot describe how awful this is.”
He flinched at the words, not being able to say anything. There was nothing he could do to fix the situation. All he could hope for was that his father didn’t force them to marry.
“Where did I go wrong?” Maekar wondered. “How did I raise you so horribly?”
He stayed silent, looking down at his father’s perfectly polished shoes.
“Please tell me you at least pulled out.” Maekar begged to know, praying to the Gods that he was not that stupid. “So she might save herself one ounce of honor.”
Still, not a word. He couldn’t admit it. If he denied it, his father would see through it. Maekar was always able to sniff through Daeron’s lies, especially when he was drunk.
“Gods.” Makear cursed, walking away from Daeron. He thought for a moment, trying to see any other solution. “There's nothing else to do. You’ll have to marry her.”
Daeron should have known it would come to that conclusion. Instead, he should have told his father that he wished to marry her, knowing his father would reject the marriage, just to spite him and make sure he didn’t get his way.
“Father, no.” Daeron begged. “I can’t marry her.”
“Maybe you should have thought about it before finding your way into her room.” Maekar snapped back, facing his disappointment of a son.
“You have to listen.” Daeron continued, trying to make his father see what he had. “It will end badly for everyone, especially for her.”
“I will chain you to myself and drag you down the aisle if it means making you.” Maekar was not having it, keeping to his word. “I should have never brought you along on this trip.”
He agreed with his father on that point. If he never came along, he wouldn’t have met her, she would have been married to Ruben, far from him, far from the cage. Living the boring life as Lady Flint.
But she would have been safe
“No you shouldn’t have.”
He ruined everything he touched. He ruined her, her life, her marriage. Even ruining the friendship between his father and Lord Flint. Now he truly wouldn’t know peace, having to live with the fact that he has sentenced her to the awful life he wished to save her from.
Gods he needed a drink.
Next ->
-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-
I wrote this chapter so quickly I'm shocked. I apologize if it was everywhere, they are goign through a lot of emotions and I was trying to capture all of it in an understandable way!!
Either way, I hope you all enjoyed it!! The next half of the fic will be getting pretty angsty but it will all work out in the end, I promise! I am excited for you all to read it!
Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! I love hearing your opinions and it helps me stay motivated when I know there are people who are really enjoying the fic. Or if you wish to talk to me more personally, you can reach me through my discord!! (Link here: discord.gg/vN7De7PYbc)
Love you all!!!
Taglist (If you wish to be added/removed from this list, comment or dm me):
About: Daeron dreamed of the same woman for ten years, saving him from his horrific nightmares. He knew her, but never met her before. No dreams could predict what would happen when he finally finds her in the most unexpected situation.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
no use of Y/N
Chapter 4: Spread your Wings and Fly
Word count: 5,628
Smut below
<- Previous
Pacing back and forth in her room, she replayed the events in her head, remembering them in greater detail: The way his lilac eyes sparkled, pupils dilated even though the light of the fire hit them directly; The way their combined saliva gathered on his bottom lip, that parted from the top, out of shock.
The thing she remembered most was the way it felt. It was her first kiss, yet she already knew that no other would satisfy her the way Daeron did. Her body filled with warmth as her heart clenched when thinking of him.
Her fingers were held to her lips, trying to press the feeling of kissing Daeron onto them so she might never forget.
She didn’t know why she did it, being caught up in the moment.
She regretted it.
She was to be married in only a couple of days. Ruben was a nice man, a good man. He didn’t deserve this form of betrayal. She needed to cut things off with Daeron before it was too late, before it went farther and she ruined the match that was set up for her.
There was too much riding on the marriage with Ruben. Many people depended on her, on the Flint’s name. If it were a marriage for her to just get sold to the highest bidder, she would have no problem running off to marry Daeron.
But that sadly was not the case.
Even though it was quiet late into the night, she knew it needed to be cut off now or she’d never be able to sleep. All she could hope for was that he was awake, and she wasn’t being too much of a bother.
Taking a deep breath, she fixed herself, making sure she was presentable to enter the hallway. Walking over to the door in long strides, she was determined not to back down, not to give in to his beautiful, pleading eyes.
Her confidence dwindled the second she opened the door, finding Daeron standing there, arm raised, ready to knock on the wood.
Daeron too had been thinking about the kiss. It plagued his mind from the moment her lips left his. She kissed him. Not because she was paid to, not because he asked her to, but because she wished to connect their lips. To connect their souls.
It was a fact that he messed up that ruined it all. Daeron should have known better than to rush things with her, like proposing to her in the darkness of the library even though she was already engaged.
But he couldn’t give up, he had to try. He knew it was meant to be, they were meant to be. After hours of trying to build up the courage, he finally did it leaving the confines of the room.
He was going to tell her about the dreams, about how she saved him in his darkest moments. Informing her of the cage, he was going to tell her that she shouldn’t marry Ruben, that she deserved to flourish and not be locked away in this castle on the cliffside.
And of course, he planned on telling her how much he loved her. Not just that he loved her, how he wished to be the one marrying her. How he was willing to give up everything just so he may stay beside her.
The words died in his throat the moment his eyes landed on her. Jaw slacking ever so slightly, his lips parted. As her nightgown was thin and clung to her body beautifully, eyes slowly traveled down, taking in the skin of hers he’d never seen before.
Daeron wanted to drop to his knees, praising her beauty and thanking her for allowing him the privilege to gaze upon her. Heart pointing in his chest, he attempted to get his words out, do anything, but nothing was released.
They stood still, as she tried to build up the courage to tell him, to break his heart and say they could no longer see each other. With a deep breath, she straightened her back, believing that standing taller would help the words come out easier.
“I-”
Barely even a sound came out of her before Daeron leaned forward into her. Dominant hand reaching her face, he used the other one to grasp at the edge of the door. The action caused her to tumble backwards slightly, giving him enough room to enter and close the door.
It did not close delicately like he expected, body using more force than intended. She jumped in his grasp, shocked by the noise. While she was planning on breaking things off with Daeron, to stop this exact thing from happening, with his lips on hers, she couldn’t find it in her heart.
Daeron was a despicable, greedy man. He knew it was wrong to defile a respectable lady. When it came to her, he couldn’t help herself, especially when he knew she wanted it to. His hands traveled down her body, feeling the curves under her nightgown. Eventually they landed on her butt, one hand on each cheek. He grasped at the mounds drawing a gasp from her lips.
He used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth. It was new to her. Strange, yet so intoxicating. She found her legs clenching together as she wanted more, whatever that entailed. Her hands knotted into his messy, dusty-brown hair, keeping him in place.
Daeron hated to pull away, but he knew he needed to tell her, use his words before he found himself incapable. Making sure he was still close, Daeron kept his hands stationed at her hips. She groaned at the loss of contact, leaning into him to try and connect them once more.
“I’m sorry.” He quietly mumbled.
“Just shut up and kiss me.” She sounded almost pained. Like she would die if he didn’t keep kissing her.
Ignoring her request, he continued, “I shouldn’t have asked you to run away with me. I just-”
Leaning forward, she kissed him softly, stopping him from continuing. “Please, Daeron. I do not wish to talk of these things now. I want you to touch me.”
She had no knowledge of sex, only that what happens between man and woman should be sacred to marriage. Deep down, she knew that it was wrong, but it was addicting, the way Daeron looked at her, the way he touched her. She wanted nothing more than for it to continue.
Hesitating a moment, he looked deep in her eyes, trying to find any doubt in them. She was sure, coaxing him into doing something he would never be able to take back. Taking the first step, she grabbed at his wrist, moving the hand to lay in the center of her chest.
The beating of her heart was rapid. She was real. Not a figment of his imagination. Not a character in his dreams. But a real living human being. And she was his, as he was hers.
With a deep breath, he needed to ask one last time, “Are you sure about this?”
“I am.” She gave him a soft smile.
Even though she didn’t know what exactly she was agreeing to, she trusted Daeron. Trusted that he would take care of her. She was filled to the brim with excitement and curiosity, to the point where it almost scared her. The way her body reacted to Daeron was something she never experienced with anyone, and she wished to know why.
Daeron hesitated. He knew he should walk away. That she would soon be married, where she was expected to be a virgin. But the thought of it being someone else who touched her, who got to feel her, sickened him greatly.
“Just-” The last strands of his honor began to snap. “Tell me if you want to stop.”
“I will.” She promised him with a nod.
With a deep breath his hand moved against her open skin making its way to where the edge of her nightgown sat on her shoulder. Bringing his other hand to the opposite side, he pinched the fabric delicately, fearing that if he moved too fast, he would scare her away.
She looked at him with a fiery curiosity. Part of her wished to hide, keeping her body to herself. But the other part wished for Daeron to be the only one to know it. Standing still, she allowed him to push the fabric off her shoulders, exposing the skin.
Neither of them knew what would happen after this silent night. So Daeron wanted to savor it. Keeping the fabric at the base of her shoulder, he leaned in, pressing his lips to the crux of her neck.
Instinctively, she moved her head to the side, giving him more access to her exposed skin. Daeron knew he couldn’t leave a mark, proof of what they were doing, but he still wished to suck on her skin. Ever so slightly, he breathed in her scent, allowing her to fill all of his senses.
Hands sliding down her arms, Daeron pulled her gown lower. The fabric caught at her nipples, needing more force to pull it over the swell of her breast. Never moving off of her body, his lips traveled down her chest until they reached their target.
Daeron wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her lower half into him as he leaned over her. She held onto his shoulders with a tight grip, stopping her from falling backward. His mouth covered her hardened nipple.
She moaned lightly into the air, accepting the new feeling. Suckling on it, his tongue swirled around its peak. The noises she made, and the way she grabbed tightly onto him encouraged Daeron to continue onto the other breast.
Even though he could stay there all night, they sadly didn’t have that time. Pulling away from her, Daeron pushed the rest of her nightgown off her body, letting it pool at her feet. Wishing to see all of her glory, he stepped back. But she was quick to grab his hands, holding them, not wanting to part.
“Fuck.” Daeron’s eyes traveled down her entire length, taking it all in. “You’re beautiful.”
Hesitatingly, she stepped closer, obstructing his view. Daeron was quick to frown, wishing to enjoy her more, but stopped when her hands went to the hem of his tunic. “May I?”
Not being able to form words, Daeron nodded in response. Lifting his arms up, he made it easier for her to undress him. After dropping the bundle of fabric on the floor, her hands trailed down his torso as she leaned into him, connecting their lips.
She stumbled with the buttons of his britches, hands shaking from the fear of doing something wrong. After loosening it enough, she pulled them off his hips, letting it lay beside his tunic.
Moving away from the kiss, she looked between them, viewing his manhood that hung from in between his legs. She didn’t know what it did. Her hands danced over his skin, making their way down his stomach, heading to his legs. Curiously, she placed it in her hands, feeling how hot and heavy it was.
Daeron let out a groan. Grabbing her wrist to stop her, he let out a low, “No.”
She jumped back, fearing the worst. “Did I hurt you?”
“Quite the opposite.” He huffed happily. Normally he would sit back and let the whore do all the work. But she was no whore. “You don’t need to do anything. I’ll take care of you.”
She nodded, feeling the heat rise through her body, feeling most of it pool where her legs met. Now that she was far enough away, she was able to see him fully. Remembering the words he said to her, she repeated them back. “You’re beautiful too.”
A laugh escaped his lips, one that came from the pit of his stomach. No one had ever described him as such, not even if they were being paid to. Part of him wished to believe that she was telling the truth. But the other half knew she only thought that because he was the first man she had seen nude before.
It didn’t mean that it didn’t make his heart clench any less. Daeron began to feel empty, being apart from her for too long. Stepping up to her, he cupped her face. Delicately, like she would fly away, he kissed her.
It was different before. With his lips, he worshiped her. Daeron knew he was lucky, that only by the grace of the gods he was able to be close to her, to touch her, to make love to her. Getting even closer, he pushed their naked bodies together.
Her nipples brushed against his body hair, already hardened from the arousal. Taking another step closer to her, he forced her to walk backwards, until the back of her calves collided with the end of the bed.
He pulled away from her lips, dropping to his knees. Her hands found their way to his locks, brushing the loose waves out of his face, to see his pleading eyes.
Daeron looked at her as though he was kneeling before a goddess. Begging her to allow him to continue worshiping her. She had never been loved, let alone worshiped in such a way. She craved the attention just as much he wished to give it to her.
“Sit down.” He softly told her, pressing a soft kiss to her thigh.
She did as she was told, placing her butt on the mattress covered in thick fur. Staying sitting up, she watched as his head dipped farther, pressing his lips to the top of her feet. As his lips moved to her calves, he locked their eyes, making sure she watched as he kissed her body.
The palm of his hands laid on her knees, pulled her legs apart from one another, allowing him to view the part he had wished to see for years. Yet, he had to be patient, needing to savor every moment so he could etch every detail into the deepest parts of his brain. To look back on the fond memory when he had to find another person, in hopes of give him an ounce of joy he felt now, with her.
Slowly, he kissed up her thigh, getting closer and closer to her center. Laying her back on the soft cushion, she opened her legs wider, allowing him to gain more access to her. She looked down her body, meeting his gaze from in between her breasts.
In that moment, it all became real, the awful sin that they were about to commit. Images of Ruben flashed in her mind, the good man that she was promised to marry. The guilt began to bleed into her soul.
“This is wrong.” She said outloud, needing to get it off her chest. “I am to be married.”
“You are not married yet.” Daeron reminded her, hot breath fanning over the built up wetness.
“I am not.” She agreed, swallowing her pride, needing him to touch her.
Not wishing for her to regret it, he asked one last time, “Do you want me to stop?”
“No.” Her answer was stern and true.
The new feeling was strange, but not unwelcomed. The wet muscle of his tongue licked up the lengths of her vagina. She let a shaky moan draw from her lips, speaking her pleasure into the open air.
Daeron groaned as if the action was giving him the same amount of pleasure. Like a man starved, he continued to lap up her wetness. Still keeping eye contact, he watched her eyebrows knit together, as her jaw laid slacked, letting moans flow easily out of her opened mouth.
Curling his lips around her clit, he began to suck on it. Leaning up on her elbows, she wished for a better view, wanting to understand exactly how Daeron was pleasuring her so greatly. Daeron’s hair fell in his way once more. She was quick to grab it, holding it on his head so it didn’t obstruct her view any more.
His hand caressed her thigh, sliding up to his mouth. Head dipping down, his tongue prodded at her entrance while his thumb made circles around her clit. The muscle pushed through the closed slit, entering her.
Heart thumping in her chest loudly, she could hear the mixed sound of her moans and the sinful noise of his tongue doing wonders to her. Never in her life did she ever expect to feel such a pleasure, let alone from a man she was not even married to.
She wished to marry Daeron. For him to be in between her legs every night, lapping at her like a rabid animal. Sadly for both of them, it was not possible, so they had to enjoy the moment while it lasted.
Once he had enough of her entrance, his mouth moved back to her clit. Instead of his tongue, he entered her with a single finger. It reached much deeper and was able to move more freely inside of her.
Slowly it slid in and out of her, until Daeron eventually added another. With the way she clamped down on them, he knew she was close. He made sure to keep with the pumping of his fingers, not wishing to cause her the pain of losing momentum.
“Oh Daeron.” She moaned deeply from her heart. The muscles in her stomach began to clench. “I-”
She didn’t even know what she was planning on saying, but it was cut off by a slew of moans. Her head was thrown back as she arched her back off the fur blanket. Legs clamping down on Daeron’s head, she came undone.
His fingers slowed their movements, slowly working her off the high. Once her body stopped twitching, and relaxed, he pulled away from in between her legs. Crawling over top of her, Daeron connected their lips.
The taste of herself was still on his tongue like the alcohol he loved. When he stopped kissing her, he never went far, keeping their foreheads together. Pupils blown wide, his iris’ were black.
They breathed in each other's air, enjoying one another's presence. Through it all, Daeron was there to make sure she was well. “Are you alright?”
With a wide smile, she proudly stated, “More than alright.”
“Do you wish to continue?” Daeron wanted to make sure.
Pleasuring her with his mouth and fingers was one thing, having sex was another. He knew there would be no return from it once they crossed that boundary.
“There’s more?” She chuckled in shock, “I did not know it can get better than that.”
“So you don’t want to?” He asked again, needing a clear answer.
“I never said that.” She was quick to retort. “I would love to feel whatever you have to give me.”
Daeron’s cock jumped in the air at her words, ready to have her surrounding it. He wished to enter her there and now and pleasure himself with her body, but he knew better. This was no longer about him, it was about the both of them. About their shared pleasure, their shared experience.
Pressing his hips against hers, he humped his clock between her lips, allowing it to get covered in her wetness, knowing that it would be less painful for her. She breathed out a soft moan every time his tip brushed against her clit.
Once he believed she was ready, he pulled away from her. Standing in between her legs, he positioned the tip at her entrance. Before pushing in, he looked at her once more, looking for any sign of discomfort and uncertainty.
There was not a single trace of it, only excitement and love. Her hand reached for the one that held her waist, linking their fingers together. With a deep breath, he pushed his tip into her.
A strained groan left her as she squirmed at the feeling. It hurt to be pried in such a way, but the feeling wasn’t unwelcomed. She trusted Daeron with her whole being, if he said that she would feel pleasure, she knew it would come eventually.
Slowly, he pressed into her until his hips met hers. His large cock stretched her walls and reached deeper than she thought possible. She felt so full of love, so complete. Like he was her missing half, and the puzzle pieces had finally been connected.
They both breathed heavily, sitting still and waiting. Leaning down once more, he pressed his lips to hers. She moaned, feeling him adjust within her. Her walls clamped down on him like no other had.
Rocking his hips back and forth, he gently pulled out before pushing in again. Her free hand tangled in his hair, wanting to keep him close, refusing to let him back away once more. He held onto her waist, needing it to ground himself in reality. To remember that she was real, and allowing him to give her his love.
Pulling her feet onto the mattress, she thought it would give him more access to her, make Daeron feel as good as he made her feel. What she didn’t expect was the effect it would have on him. Hips slamming deeply into her, the angle he entered her gave him an amount of pleasure he had never felt before.
“Oh Gods.” He moaned loudly.
His body locked in place, not giving him the time to pull out before cumming. Strips of semen shot inside of her womb as his cock twitched against her walls. Confused at what happened, she waited patiently for him to move once more.
It was most unexpected, he didn’t mean to finish so quickly. Never before had he ejaculated so prematurely. He was a man of the flesh, of pleasure. He knew he could last longer, so why didn’t he?
Before had never feared finishing inside a woman, the consequences wouldn’t affect him. But now, with her, panic filled his body. He cussed, pulling out of her, backing away as he watched his own seed seep out of her. “Fuck.”
She sat up, looking at him worried, fearful that she did something wrong. “Is everything okay?”
“No. I just-” The words caught in his throat, not knowing how to tell her that he messed up, for good this time. “You may become a child. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you just-”
As he rambled on his apology, she stood from the bed, legs quivering ever so slightly from the abuse. Walking up to him, she kissed him, stopping him from spewing his worries. Her lips calmed him. She was so sure that he couldn’t help but adopt her emotion.
“I expected the possibility when I let you into my bed. Truthfully, I didn’t think there was a way to couple without the chance of producing a babe.” She softly told him, not wishing for him to worry anymore. “If you are okay with it. I would like to continue.”
“What if it comes out like a Targaryen?” Daeron ignored her request, still worrying. “Silver hair and purple eyes.”
“Thankfully you do not have silver hair.” She combated his fear. “The child might come out with my eye color, my parent’s eye color. There is no way of knowing.”
“That is what worries me.” Daeron huffed, as his anxiety only increased.
“What I mean to say is, it has already been done. There is no telling what the future holds.” Linking her fingers around the back of his neck, she held him. “I would be happy to have a child with you.”
“You would?” The comment shocked him, forcing his racing thoughts to come to a halt. “Even with possibility of people finding out that it is a bastard?”
“Let me worry about that, alright?" It was true, even if the babe came out looking like a Targaryen, she would be the one to deal with it, not Daeron. “Do you wish to continue?”
When she asked him so nicely, he found it hard to refuse. That and he felt guilty he couldn’t please her the way she did. Sheepishly, he nodded. “You will just have to give me a minute to get aroused again.”
“What do I need to do?” She wondered, wishing to quicken the process. Grabbing his hand, she led him back to the bed as they both sat on the edge.
If his body didn’t need at least a few minutes to recuperate, he would have been hard again in an instant. The way she looked at him, with her pleading eyes, wishing to pleasure him, did things to him that changed his very being.
“Just kiss me for now.” He whispered, leaning into her.
As their lips moved together, he stroked at his softened cock, hoping that it would speed up the process. The slick of their combined wetness helped him move his hand up and down his smaller length. She caught on to what he was trying to do. Moving her hand up in between his legs, she replaced his grip with her own.
Her fingers were cold in comparison to his hot body. Yet it didn’t make him feel any less good having her grip stroking at him. She was too delicate, like she was scared of hurting him. Putting his hand overtop hers, he had her grip his cock tighter.
Letting go of her, she understood what Daeron was getting at, holding onto him with more strength. Learning the curve of him, her strokes began to gain confidence, more of a rhythm. Moaning into her mouth, he felt the blood rush to his member once more.
Even though she felt it grow, she didn’t stop. It only encouraged her to keep going, to go harder, faster. The groans turned to whimper and pleads. With his free hand, he began to feel her breast once more, getting lost in the bright light of hers.
“If you don’t stop, I am going to cum again.” He moaned out, pulling away from her lips.
“Sorry.” She was quick to apologize.
“There is no need. You just feel too good.” He chucked lightly, kissing her on the forehead. “I am ready now if you are.”
She nodded, leaning back on the mattress once more so he may be on top. When he stood, he made note of how she sat up on her elbows. “You might want to lean back on the pillows. It will be more comfortable, and you will be less sore.”
Smiling at him, she began to back up on the bed, until her head hit the wood of the headboard. Through it all, Daeron cared so deeply for her and her wellbeing. It made her heart clench, made her fall deeper in love with him than before.
Daeron didn’t need to enter her slowly like before, since she was already stretched out. This time he brought his finger to her clit. Knowing that he wouldn’t last as long as he wished to, he thought that quickening her process instead might be better.
With her leaning slightly against the headboard, it was easier for him to reach her lips. Pressing his body into her, trapping her against the bed, he wanted to be engulfed by her, feel her everywhere around him.
Daeron’s free hand moved from her hip to her thigh, pulling at the skin, wanting her to lift her legs around his hips. Doing just as he wished, she locked her ankles around his back, following the movements of him pressing into her.
The pad of his thumb pressed into her clit harsher than before, making tight, fast circles. He was close, she could tell as his hips pushed into her with more ferocity, more need. She too felt the knot in her stomach build up. This time it was stronger, drawing tighter than before.
“I love you so much.” Daeron huffed in between moans. He was quick to get his words out, needing her to know before he came. “You were meant for me. You are perfect”
“Daeron.” She responded softly, cupping his cheek in her hand, brushing her thumb over the scar. “I love you too.”
Daeron couldn’t hold back any longer. The damage had already been done, so he didn’t pull out when he felt his cock begin to twitch inside of her. Her walls fluttered around him, gushing, drawing his seed deeper into her.
They both breathed heavily as Daeron laid on top of her. His lips found her pressing into the kiss deeply. He needed her to know that what he said was true, “I meant it, that I love you.”
She gave him a wide smile, brushing his hair behind his torn ear. “I did too.”
With a deep breath, Dearon rolled off of her. Laying on the bed, he pulled her close. He couldn’t leave just yet. For the first time in his life, he felt whole, like everything would be okay, that he wouldn’t go to sleep and see the horrors of the future.
She was the light in his darkness, the one that saved him from his own mind. And he knew, the moment he left her side, that empty feeling would come back, consuming him whole.
So he laid there, making every last moment count. Wishing that reality would somehow bend and her marriage with Ruben would be called off by some grace of the gods. Oh how he prayed to them to make it happen.
She too wished the night would span on forever, that she could stay comfortable in his arms, to be with a man she loved, and not married because of obligations or contracts. It was a sick fate. If only they had met sooner, their stories might have ended differently.
Maybe the crown would have been the one to lend a helping hand to the village. That they would be indebted to Daeron, so she could be sold to him as collateral. She almost hated that lord Flint was so generous to help her family and village. She most definitely despised that her father was too poor to pay back with money, so she became the prize instead.
The worst part was, if she never met Daeron, she would have been contemptuous with her life: Living boringly as Lady Flint. Now there was no going back. She knew what it felt like to love and be loved, and it would never feel the same again with Ruben.
But at least, she could say that she felt it once in her life. That she could say ‘I love you’ and truly mean it.
“My father wishes for me to marry Emely.” Daeron told her, rubbing his fingers across the skin of her shoulder. “He tried to get me to sign a contract earlier.”
“How awful.” She groaned, not seeing how anyone would wish to marry such a woman. “At least you can say no.”
Daeron froze, scared to admit what was on his mind. “What if I didn’t?”
“Why would you wish for such a fate?” She jumped up onto her side, looking at him with worry.
His hand trailed up her body, landing on her cheek. He looked at her sadly. Marrying Emely was awful, and he didn’t want to do it. But at the same time, there was one single advantage to doing so. One that outweighed the bad.
“I could live here, with you.” He said softly, giving a weary smile.
“But I too would be married.” She pointed out. It wasn’t like she would be his mistress, or vice versa. They would both be married, cheating on their spouses to be with one another.
“Yes.” He agreed. “We could still meet in secret.”
“No-” She was quick to reject the idea. She didn’t know if she could do it, sneaking behind her husband's back to sleep with the man married to his sister.
“Just listen.” He leaned on his elbow, trying to get closer to her, trying to make her understand. “Yes, we would not be able to marry. But we still have one another in this dim castle.”
“Please, let's not talk about this tonight.” She knew that this conversation would not be solved in one night, and she didn’t want to ruin the mood she was in. “I am trying to forget about my situation.”
“Alright.” He agreed sadly, already knowing her answer.
They were stuck. There was nothing else for them to do. The most they could hope for is that she somehow becomes a young widow, or they would only have this one night to remember each other.
After everything, the dreams, her touch, filling her with his seed, he needed to stay close to her. Part of him wished to stay behind in the dark grey castle. Her light shines brighter than any place in Westeros.
But questions would be raised, people would find out that he was her mistress. That would end badly for the both of them, and Ruben might stage an accident and have Daeron killed if he found out such a thing.
“You should leave soon.” She said, pulling him from his thoughts. “We cannot get caught like this.”
“Just a little longer.” Daeron settled back into the bed, grabbing at her body. “I want to hold you while I still can.”
She couldn’t deny him, couldn’t resist his touch. Leaning on him she readied herself for sleep before darkly warning. “You better be gone by the time I wake up.”
“I will.” Daeron whispered, leaning down and pressing his lips to her forehead. “I promise”
Next ->
-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-
I worked really hard on making this smut good. I think I did better than i have done in the past! I hope you all enjoyed it!! The angst will ensue next chapter and I am so super excited to write it >:)'
consider joining my discord server! I really want to talk to people about this fic but I don't really have anyone active on there! So please join!!!! I wanna rant and rave abotu what i have written so far and what i have to come LOL (Link here: discord.gg/vN7De7PYbc)
thank you for reading and thank you for all your love and support!!!! Love you all!
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About: Daeron dreamed of the same woman for ten years, saving him from his horrific nightmares. He knew her, but never met her before. No dreams could predict what would happen when he finally finds her in the most unexpected situation.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
no use of Y/N
Chapter 3: And the Door Opens
Word count: 3,058
<- Previous
There was a reason Daeron didn’t attend dinner with the family. He couldn’t handle the disgusting display of affection shown by Ruben.
“A toast to my future bride.” Ruben proudly stated, standing from his seat and raising his cup of wine. “Only a few more days until I can call you my wife.”
For weeks, Daeron had gotten out of having supper with everyone else. Maekar was disappointed. But when was he not? He had enough, forcing Daeron into the room with the large table that sat many.
To his biggest dismay, Daeron was stuck in between his father and Emely. The last two people he wished to be near. His love sat at the end of the table, opposite to him, next to Ruben.
Just for a moment, her eyes darted over to Daeron before looking back up at Ruben. She had the same polite smile. Made the same formal nod to the words spoken about her. Agreeing with what he had to say even though it wasn’t her wish.
The second the cup was brought to her lips, her face dropped. Only for a moment. No one would have noticed. But Daeron did. Daeron couldn’t help but notice when she showed clear signs of being distraught. That she didn’t want to marry Ruben. That she wished to be with someone she loved, and that was Daeron.
Whispered circled around the table, speaking of how perfect the couple was. To the outsider, they were: A respectable lady, one that is put together well, kind and smart. And a lord that was strong and smart. What more could someone want?
Reaching for his cup, he needed more wine. More alcohol in his system so the pain might dull. So he might forget.
The cup was empty, only a drop being left. Looking around he beckoned the cup bearer forward, so it may be filled once more. Maekar was quick to intervene, glaring at the boy that held the pitcher, putting a hand over Daeron’s cup to signify that he must not have more.
“Father.” He pleaded quietly.
“I told you not to make a fool of yourself.” Maekar reminded his son.
“That is what I am doing.” Daeron continued to make his case, quite awfully. “The wine dulls my stupidity.”
“Wine makes you more stupid.” Maekar seethed, voice raising louder than before.
“I am a grown man.” Daeron added, thinking it would make his point.
Maekar was trying to end the conversation before anyone else caught on. But the rage started to build and his composure began to slip. “Then act like one!”
“Will you just let me make decisions for myself?” Daeron groaned, loudly, gaining everyone’s attention.
“No.” Maekar shouted, not realizing that all eyes were on him. “You are incapable. I must make them for you.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Looking around, Maekar felt the heat of embarrassment rise throughout his body, only angering him further. Facing down at his plate, he continued to cut at the meat before him, mumbling a small apology to the people around.
Conversations picked back up, as everyone thought it was over. With Daeron, the complaining never ended. Once he thought that it was loud enough, he leaned into his father again, continuing to complain.
“Then what shall I drink to clench my thirst?” The mere thought of not having wine made his throat clench in dehydration.
“Water.” Maekar said plainly, ending the argument before it got out of hand. “It has existed long before wine.”
Daeron huffed, leaning back in his chair and pouting like a child. The serving boy walked over to him at Maekar’s command, filling the cup so wine might not somehow find its way into it.
Sipping it felt like drinking poison, as the bland taste washed away any lingering burning of the wine. From the moment he sat down, Daeron knew he wouldn’t survive the dinner. But now, with no more wine, it was all but a guarantee he would die before they brought out the desserts.
No one was paying attention to the prince, all lost in their own worlds. It was Emely who leaned forward on the table, giving Daeron a pert smirk. Without a word, she grabbed at Daeron’s cup of water, taking a sip from it.
It was easy for her to do it unnoticed, as it bordered her spot at the table. Daeron gave her a stern glare, not liking whatever she was doing. It was inappropriate, to steal the cup of a man, let alone a prince, knowingly. But he knew better than to make a scene, causing his father more grievance.
Instead of returning the cup to its original position, she held it in her lap, hiding it under the table. With her free hand, she reached for her cup, filled with the sweet nectar of wine. Emely moved it to the other side of her plate, where Daeron could reach.
Giving him a curt nod, she placed the cup of water in her spot. Daeron couldn’t help but smile, happy that he had found his saving grace in the dreaded dinner. Leaning toward her, hoping his father wouldn’t hear, he said, “Thank you.”
“I do not know what you are talking about.” She responded.
Chuckling lightly at her, he took a sip of the wine. Daeron’s eyes traveled past Emely, landing on the woman beside Ruben. Ruben was talking to her, saying something of little interest.
Her eyes were trained on Daeron, frowning at the interaction between him and Emely. She was jealous, upset that he was having fun talking to the woman that would be her sister in only a few days.
The last thing Daeron wanted was to make her believe that he too was interested in Emely, but before he could make any movement, she turned from him, looking back at her betrothed.
‧₊ ♪˚⊹
Daeron was hiding from his father. Ever since Emely publicly stated her interest in him, Maekar wished for his son to reciprocate those feelings, joining house Flint and house Targaryen.
Once dinner ended, Maekar stated he wished to have a conversation with Daeron, after he met with Lord Flint. He wasn’t stupid. At the moment, his father was sealing his fate, writing up a marriage contract.
The last thing Daeron wanted was to get married. But if he had to, he wished to at least find his wife bearable. And Emely was insufferable. Or in the best case, he would be able to marry the woman from his dreams, but the likelihood of that was merely impossible.
Thankfully, since he was the man, he too had to sign the agreement. But Daeron knew himself, he knew his father. All it would take is a bit of wine and words of disappointment and he’d give in instantly, signing away his life to the vulture Emely Flint.
So, he had to hide. Being caged in his room meant Maekar could easily find him and corner him. His leather boots hit the stone ground, echoing in the halls. Twisting and turning, he tried to find the least likely corner of the castle.
Opening a random dorm, he was met with the smell of leather and paper. The dark library was lit by the warm light of the fireplace. Though he wasn’t alone as he wished to be.
Daeron should have known the door he opened wasn’t one of pure coincidence. His heart was drawn to the room because of what laid in it. In front of the fireplace was a couch. She sat on the carpeted floor, leaning her back on the cushion of the couch.
Before he could even process what was happening, his feet began to move toward her. She was relaxed, book in her lap. Using the light from the fire, she focused on the thin sheet of paper.
Hearing the footsteps approaching, she turned to Daeron. Her face lit up in a smile before quickly hiding it behind her polite, ladylike one.
"We can't keep meeting like this, my prince." She was serious, yet, there was a bite of rebellion behind her eyes.
Sitting on the ground, Daeron joined her. Body instantly relaxed, he couldn’t help but smile when in her presence. Teasing her, he asked, "Why not?"
She seemed thrown off by the question. The answer was obvious, they both knew that these meetings weren’t innocent or friendly. While nothing happened, the underlying feelings between them both were forbidden.
"It is inappropriate." She simply replied, turning away from him defiantly.
"Is it now? How so?" Daeron leaned in, getting closer to her than ever before. Even though they were still quite far apart.
Facing him once more, her face held a sadder weight as she reminded him, "I am to be married in a few days."
"I see no issue with us sitting here and talking." He lied, as though they both believed that was the only thing going on. "It would only be wrong if you believe a conversation would lead to other, more inappropriate things."
“You are insufferable.” She scoffed with a chuckle.
“Yet you do not leave.” Daeron pointed out, knowing that even though she thought it wrong, she too enjoyed it.
“No I do not.” She agreed, proving his point.
Silence fell upon both of them, the sound of wood splitting from the fire’s heat filled the air. She went back to her book, propping the book against her arched legs. Her finger trailed across the page as she tried not to lose her spot.
Daeron found her cute, the way she squinted, taking in the information before her. How she unconsciously bit at the dry skin of her lips. The fact that in a few days time, she would be another man’s, killed him.
Trying to push the thought away, he asked, “Are you reading the same book as last time?”
“No, I finished that one.” She kept her finger on the page so she didn’t lose her spot.
“Another romance?” He wondered, just wanting to hear her talk.
“It is about flowers and their meaning.” She said with a sigh. “The romance made me too sad.”
“Is it because you do not wish to marry Ruben?” Thinking outloud, he realized that maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up. It was clearly a touchy subject for them both.
“Don’t-” She began to warn. Stopping herself, she chose to use different wording than originally thought. “Do not speak on things you can’t understand.”
“It is true though.” Daeron continued to press.
The ache in his chest was beginning to grow. He wanted to release it, needing to for his sanity. The only way to do that was to talk to her, get her to admit that it was all bullshit: Her marriage with Ruben.
Her walls began to rise, knowing that only bad things would come from a conversation like this. With an air of arrogance, she asked “And how do you know this?”
“I know you.” He said truthfully. Still keeping his eyes trained on her, Daeron leaned his head back on the couch.
“You know nothing about me.” She reminded him sharply.
It was mostly true, to her anyway. They had only had two conversations previously. He didn’t know her favorite color, how she liked her food, or if she preferred a sweet Dornish wine to an Arbor Red.
What he did know was that she was his saving grace. His light amongst the dark. His other half. His everything.
“I know what you want.” He reiterated.
“Since you are Ser Know-It-All” Straightening her back, she questioned him. “What do I want? Hm?”
He wished to say it, scream it to the world. But the words caught in his throat. The fear of being wrong took him over. They both knew it, yet the small chance of embarrassing himself forced him to pause.
Changing the topic, he thought it would be better to state his own intentions instead. “I want you.”
She twitched in shock, not expecting his boldness. Opening her mouth, she went to say something before quickly closing it. It took her a moment to form a response: finally saying, “That doesn’t answer the question.”
“You want to marry for love. A love you can never find with Ruben.” Her flustered reaction gave him the confidence to speak bolder. “One that I feel deep down that we can have.”
The confidence dwindled as fast as it was built, as she said nothing, staring at him. Her face was unreadable, not giving him the normal view into her soul. Beginning to fear the worst, Daeron quickly tried to formulate a response, a way to go back on his word so he couldn’t embarrass himself further.
Without a moment more to spare, she lurched forward. Her swiftness gave him no time to respond, leaving him stunned like a deer. Pressing her body into his, she connected them at the lips.
Her fits balled at his tunic, forcing him to stay put, as if he would leave. Her entire being consumed him. Her lips were soft, only brushing against his lightly. It was clear she had never kissed before, that she didn’t know what she was doing.
Yet, it was the best thing to ever grace his foul lips. He loved her. That was where he was supposed to be, against her, lips pressed together. For the first time ever in his life, he felt whole. That the hole inside of him had been filled. By her, by her love.
It was over as quick as it started. She pulled away before he could lean into her more. Before he could express how deeply he felt for her. Even though they were away from one another for only a moment, it felt wrong.
“I didn’t want my first being Ruben.” She quickly explained, knowing it was wrong for her to force him into it. “I should have asked-”
The barrier was broken, as the flood of emotion was now released, crashing against the stone walls. Not wanting to hear anymore of her nonsense, he cut her off, reconnecting them.
Daeron hand found her waist, holding it tightly, as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to the world. Their lips moved against one another. Her hands traveled from his chest to his neck, tangling in his messy hair.
Wishing to go farther, needing her, Daeron leaned his weight into her. The feeling of him overtook her as she moaned ever so lightly. Every form of restraint in Daeron’s body broke as his lips trailed from her face down to her neck.
The action startled her as she pulled away from his grasp. They both sat there in silence, breathing heavily, catching their breath.
“Sorry.” She mumbled, backing away farther from him. “I shouldn’t- We shouldn’t-”
“No one is here. It is just us.” He cooed lightly, scooting closer so they might be one again.
Shaking her head, she used her fingers to cover her lips. With her eyes held wide, it was clear she was horrified by her actions, of what they had done. Fearful of what would come next. Her chest rose with her quick breaths.
“Run away with me.” Daeron asked.
While his brain wasn’t caught up with his mouth, he meant it. There was no world where he couldn’t have her after that. No world ever worth living in. If it meant that he would have to disappoint his father once more, he was willing to do it.
“What?” She asked quietly, like if she spoke any louder, someone would find out what they had just done.
“We can run away. Get married.” He explained further, liking the idea the more he thought about it.
“There are too many negative possibilities.” She shook her head, scared of the prospect. “We would become outcasts.”
“For a while, maybe.” Daeron reached his hands out to grasp hers. Rubbing his thumbs over the shaking hands, he continued. “But they will come to accept us in due time.”
“No.” She said more firmly, realizing what it would mean for her. “We cannot. I cannot.”
“Yes you can.” Pulling her hands closer to himself, he tried to get her to see reason. “I love you. Please.”
His words went unanswered as he leaned in to kiss her once more, to make her understand how serious he was. To promise that everything would work out in the end if she just agreed.
Removing herself from Daeron completely, she stood to her feet. Looking up, he pleaded with her quietly, begging her to stay. Begging her to commit herself to him as he has done for her. Tears began to build in her fear stricken eyes, sliding off her face and landing on his face.
When Daeron reached out for her dress, wishing to bring her closer, she stepped away, quickly heading to the door without a word.
Daeron was a fuckup. He knew that. Everyone knew it. Constantly disappointing his father was one thing, having the love of his life leave him stranded in the library after pouring his heart on the floor was another.
Before she could exit the room, the door opened, causing her to take a moment of pause. Maekar stood in the entrance, confused to see her so startled. She was quick to regain composure, pushing past the prince with a small apology.
Seeing Daeron sitting on the floor, Maekar’s face hardened, knowing his son had something to do with the woman’s stress. “What have you done?”
“I did nothing!” Daeron was quick to defend himself, as she was the first one to kiss him.
Maekar didn’t believe Daeron one bit, striding across the library to get to his son. “Get up. We need to talk.”
“I don’t feel like talking.” Daeron responded sadly. He felt as though he had just died, the last thing he needed was his father spouting his words of disappointments.
“I don’t care. Get up.”
Reluctantly, Daeron rose from the ground, following him out of the library. Following his father sluggishly, Daeron knew exactly what was going to happen, what was going to be said. Even though he was in a disheveled state, he knew he needed to keep his head up, stay strong, lest he make an even bigger mistake that night.
Next ->
-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-
I am super excited for the next chapter! School is starting back up soon, so i do not know when I will be able to get it out, but it will be soon so stay on the lookout for that!!
You should consider joining my discord server! I am most active there and I would LOVE to talk to yall about this fic. I am so so excited and just wanna ramble on about it with people who are interested! (Link here: https://discord.gg/vN7De7PYbc)
Thank you for your reads and comments, love you all!!
Taglist (If you wish to be added/removed from this list, comment or dm me):
About: Daeron dreamed of the same woman for ten years, saving him from his horrific nightmares. He knew her, but never met her before. No dreams could predict what would happen when he finally finds her in the most unexpected situation.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
no use of Y/N
Chapter 2: The Cage that Keeps the Bird from Flying
Word count: 4,106
<- Previous
It was a cruel fate, having his bedchambers above the gardens. Two days ago he thought the garden looked bland: boring and grey. But now the view had a new found vibrance in them. The woman that saved Daerion from his dreams many times walked through them, arm linked with her betrothed.
Even though he could see her clear as day, it was as if she were a completely different person. Standing stiff, she held herself properly, just as she did when her mother caught them. Her back was straight as she looked like she was practically floating.
It was obvious that it was the facade she had to put on for others. One that portrayed the perfect daughter, perfect wife. A woman who held herself high and mighty so people couldn’t see through the cracks.
But he saw them.
Daeron saw past the beautiful ceramic shell. That she was weighted down by the expectations of others. She was meant to flourish, spread her wings and fly. There was nothing more that Daeron wished to do than help her achieve that.
She was caged in, and the man who held her arm was that cage, Daeron could feel it.
How could he compete?
Ruben was a respectable man, one that had a good reputation. All Daeron was ever known for was being a notorious rake. Oh how he would change those ways to just be by her side. Life was cruel. How could he destroy the cage?
He wished to challenge Ruben to a duel. The prize being her hand in marriage. But he would most definitely lose, and there is no way anyone would agree to such a thing with their wedding only a few weeks away. The dark thought of slipping something awful into Ruben’s cup did cross Daeron’s mind, but he didn’t have the courage to go through with it.
So he was left to sink into the cups, sitting beside the windowsill, wishing that it was him by her side, holding onto her arm as they discussed their future.
It was killing him. Yet, he couldn’t look away. It was a sickening way of self harm, watching how Ruben would look at her and how she would mechanically nod her head in response.
Stopping in the middle of the garden, Ruben stepped in front of her, keeping her from walking away. His hand moved up her arm making its way to her chin. Holding her face, Ruben leaned into her, too close for anything proper. No one would care if they got caught, their wedding was right around the corner. So what’s an almost kiss in the quiet, empty garden?
Ruben whispered words to her, ones that were only meant for the both of them. She gave a formal smile, not one of genuine care, but because she was expected to. Agreeing to whatever he had said.
It was all trained, procured from years of lessons and forming. Daeron saw it in her face. That she would be plagued by a life of pretending if she married Ruben, never being able to be her true self as she bears child after child for him.
Pulling away from her, Ruben walked away, abandoning her in the grass. Daeron stayed at the window for a moment more, seeing what she would do, where she would go. She only took a few steps, sitting on the cold hard ground, under the willowtree.
The long strings of branches covered her, obstructing his view. Without a second thought, he left his room, needing to see her, needing to speak with her. His steps were quick, echoing down the long bland hallway.
Daeron was on a mission, one that ended with sitting in the garden and talking with her until the sun had gone to sleep. But like any good journey, there were obstacles.
Word had gotten out to Lord Flint’s daughters that Daeron was open to marriage. A lie spread by none other than his father. Believing they had a chance with a prince, the ladies began to cling to him, showing off their best traits in hopes that it would attract him.
The most adamant one was Emely. Youngest out of the five Flint daughters. Rambunctious is how her father described her, but she was far more than that.
She practically looked identical to her brother, the only main difference was her being the same age as Daeron. Shoulder length black hair, dark eyes, and broad shoulders. Her clothes were as dim as her house, dressed in greys and blacks. The only thing that made her stand out was the red ruby necklace that hung from her neck.
It was like she was stalking him, popping up wherever he went, trying to join him in any activity. If he said he were leaving to visit the brothels, she still would have found some excuse as to why she was headed there as well.
“Good afternoon, my prince.” Emely politely greeted. Her eyes were sharp, like a predator luring their prey closer so they could pounce.
“Afternoon.” Daeron responded, attempting to walk past her.
Stepping in front of him was most impolite, but Emely didn’t care, she had her eyes on the prize, and would do anything to get what she wanted.
“What brings you out of your room on this fine day?” She wondered with a tilt of her head.
Daeron had barely left the confines of his accomidations in the past two days. After the conversation with his love, he found it most difficult to see her with another man. He wished to be alone with her, have another conversation, but someone always got in the way.
He thought it was better to stay in his room, save him from the pain. Telling everyone he wasn't feeling well, he locked himself away. Maekar knew it was a lie, believing that Daeron was using it as a distraction to sneak out and attend the local taverns and brothels. While he wasn’t sneaking out, he was enjoying the comfort of wine in the room that felt more like a cage.
“I am headed to the garden. I needed some fresh air.” Daeron regretted his words, the second they left his mouth. Maybe it was the wine that let it slip, but he knew he should have lied to Emely.
“What a coincidence,” Emely said out of fake surprise, just as expected. “I was headed there as well. We shall walk together.”
Emely grabbed onto Daeron’s arm, making it where they would walk closer than wanted. He was quick to shimmy out of her grasp, not wanting to be touched by her. To his dismay, Emely wasn’t one to pick up on ques. Or rather, she did not care about the obvious discomfort Daeron felt, grabbing onto his arm once more.
“Are you feeling better?” She softly wondered, looking up to him. Fluttering her eyes, she believed it made her look more attractive. “Your father said you have been feeling ill these past couple of nights."
“I am not feeling too much better.” Daeron grimaced, feeling worse now that he had a leach attached to him. Trying to come up with a way to get her off, he said, “You might want to stand away from me, lest you catch anything.”
“How kind of you to think of my health.” Emely sighed dreamingly believing he cared for her. “But I have the immune system of a vulture. So I shall be fine.”
Vulture was the perfect way to describe the woman. Daeron felt as though he was dying, being forced to watch as his soulmate paraded around with another man. And there Emely was, watching. Waiting for him to fall over and take his last breath, so she could sink her teeth into him and tear his flesh from his bones.
“Have you been enjoying our wine?” Emely spoke up, trying to find another topic to speak about. Since the stingy smell of alcohol stuck to him, she thought it was something she could bring up. “We are known to make the best wine in all of the Seven Kingdoms."
It was an obvious lie. As a connoisseur of alcohol, Daeron knew that The Arbor made the best wine in the Seven kingdoms. The wine made in Flint’s Finger was bitter. Not in the good way. It was bad, rotten tasting. On the brighter side, it was much stronger, allowing him to forget his worries quicker. No matter what, nothing could be better than Dornish wine.
“It is okay.” He grumbled, already quite done with Emely’s antics.
Daeron had to remind himself what he was doing it for. When entering the garden, he immediately began looking for the willow tree, not knowing exactly how to get there. Having Emely hang onto him was dreadful. The last thing Daeron wanted was his love to believe that he was taken with Emely. Or would be so brash to want both women. Sadly enough for him, his reputation would lead any person to both conclusions.
Sitting under the willow tree, she read a book. One Daeron questions where it came from, not seeing her with one earlier. His heart began to pound in his chest, hearing it in his own ears. He feared that Emely would somehow feel it under her fingertips as it reverberated throughout his whole being.
“Ah sister!” Emely happily greeted, noticing the other person. “What a surprise to see you in the garden”
It did not surprise Daeron one bit. This was what he wanted all along, to see her, to be near her. Though there was another, he had hoped that she could be herself, not having to hold up her walls like she did with Ruben.
“I am not your sister yet.” She reminded Emely.
Her tone was as plain as her expression as her eyes stayed trained to her book. It was clear that she too did not enjoy the shrinking of Emely. Another thing they shared in common.
“You practically are.” Emely told, with a chuckle. “Ruben is smitten with you, and us girls have already accepted you.”
Looking up from her book, she gave Daeron a fleeting stare, like she did not want Daeron knowing that information. Even though it was clear to everyone, with how Ruben treated her. Her eyes were almost pleading, begging for him to take her away from the marriage. That she didn’t want anyone else knowing how much the family liked her, when she didn’t like them.
At that moment, Daeron knew. He had to do something. But what?
Going back to her book, she returned to being stone cold. “And yet, we have not married.”
“In due time.” Emely rolled her eyes, not understanding the resistance.
Daeron took the moment of pause to make sure Emely didn’t pull him away. “Do you mind if we join you?”
“I was thinking-” Emely began to protest, wanting alone time with the prince.
She was quick to cut Emely off, also wanting to talk more with Daeron. “Of course not.”
Daeron plopped himself down on the dirt, before Emely could argue. Being forced to join, she sat beside Daeron, sitting a little too close for comfort. Sticking to her book, she continued to read, as Emely and Daeron conversated.
“I must ask where you got that scar. Was it in battle?” Emely asked, looking at the healed over skin that traveled from his lips to his ear.
“Emely, you shouldn’t ask such questions!” She scolded, knowing it was rude.
Daeron was not one for gloating, especially when it came to his body. The way he got the scar was truly embarrassing. The moment he fell from his horse, in hopes of not fighting, the beast trampled over him, almost caving his head in. He was lucky the only thing he was left with was a mutilated ear and a scar on the cheek.
He wanted to lie. Say that he got it in a grand battle that was won because of him singled handedly. But he couldn’t. To avoid the embarrassing facts of truth, he simply said, “I got it in the Trial of Seven in Ashford."
“I remember hearing about that.” She poked her head up from her book, closing it on her finger. It was clear that the contents of the trial interested her.
“It makes you look even more attractive.” Ignoring her, soon to be sister, Emely tried to make her advance toward Daeron. Wanting to emphasize her point, she asked “Don’t you agree sister?”
“I’m not your sister yet.” She plainly reminded Emely. “But, I do agree. Didn’t your brother lose the duel horribly?”
She wore a small smirk, testing him. Not the bland, polite smile she had given Ruben when he held her so close. But one of genuine fun. Even though they were shaded under the tree the sun blinded him.
It was clear, she wanted him to play with her. Giving back the same energy, he said, “I believe you already know the outcome.”
“I might.” She shrugged, smiling more.
She knew, that was obvious. It wasn’t an unknown fact that Aerion embarrassed himself for the whole world to see. What he didn’t expect was for her to be a gossip, caring about the details of a thirteen year old’s horrific birthday party.
“Were you there?” Daeron wondered. Knowing that his heart would have been drawn to her if she were near, he added, “I feel as though I would have seen you if you were.”
“I was not.” She told him plainly. “My family doesn’t have the means to travel like that.”
“I was there!” Emely butted in, feeling left out. “Ruben had brought me along with him.”
It was another lie that spewed from the girl’s mouth. Daeron for a fact knew that the Flint’s weren’t there. His father wouldn’t have been so excited to see the son of his old friend if they had already met at Ashford. And, if she truly were there, she would have known where Daeron’s scar came from.
Adding onto the suspicion, she commented on Flint's financial situation, “I thought your family hadn’t gone because money was being saved for the wedding.”
“No!” Emely fought back, not appreciating being undermined. “There was enough for me and Ruben. I saw you in the Trial of Seven. You fought gallantly for your brother's honor.”
Lies after lies, that was all that came out of Emely’s mouth. He hadn’t fought gallantly, falling over right after the horn blew its music into the air. Emely was trying to rub up to him, trying to get him to believe she truly cared. It reminded him of the way the whores would treat him, hoping to get an extra coin.
The other person in the conversation could tell, but decided not to fight it anymore. It was clear that she didn’t want to get on Emely’s bad side, as they soon would be family. Oh what a horrible thought that was.
Before they could continue anymore, another person walked into the garden. She was much older than the other three, having an added air of authority as she called out.
“Emely.” The eldest Flint sister shouted into the open garden. “Emely, where have you gone?”
Emely groaned loudly. Falling back onto the grass, it was clear that she didn’t want to leave the conversation. Didn’t want to leave Daeron. She had hoped that if she stayed quiet, her sister would give up and walk away.
That was not going to happen, as Layla screamed, “Emely!”
“What?” Not appreciating being yelled at, Emely shouted back.
“Mother is calling for us.” Layla walked over to the group of people, following Emely’s voice.
“Do I have to go?” Emely tried to argue with her sister, “We were having a nice discussion and I would hate to leave it.”
“Yes.” Layla said sternly. “It is about the wedding.”
“You and our other sisters could handle it.” Emely pointed out, knowing that without her, there would still be four others to make decisions. “I am not needed.”
“Emely!” Layla was fed up with the constant resistance from her youngest sibling.
“Fine.” Emely groaned. Before she stood, she leaned into Daeron more, getting too close for comfort before telling him, “I shall see you at dinner. I will make sure to save you a seat next to me.”
Daeron withered away in disgust. He hated it, having a woman he could care less about be so brazen in her attempts to woo him. It was embarrassing, truly. Emely didn’t care, as long as she got what she wanted in the end.
Emely never would. Daeron didn’t want to marry, or rather, he used to. Before, he didn’t even know if the woman that appeared in his dreams were real. Possibly being a fragment of his imagination as a way to cope. But now, he knew she was real, and she sat beside him. Even if she did get married to Ruben, she had him, and no other woman would.
“She has marked you.” She chuckled, gracing the silence with her voice.
Yet again, her demeanor changed. It was calmer, lighter than a moment ago. It was weird. Nice, that even as a stranger, she let down her guard when it came to him. Even so, she wasn’t as free as a few nights previously. Anyone could walk in on the two, or see them through a window.
“How awful.” Daeron groaned, leaning back on his hands.
“Better you than me.” She sighed out of slight relief. “When I arrived, she was making all of the wedding decisions for me.”
While he hated the way Emely acted, he was more than willing to put up with it if it meant he could protect her.
“I fear it will be void of any color with that family planning anything.” Daeron jest.
Humming in response, the silence filled the air once more. They only looked at one another, trying to read what the other was thinking. It was as if she were trying to tell if he felt it too, the strange invisible string that tied them together.
In an instant, she was snapped out of it, realizing that he too could see her. It was clear she was embarrassed, knowing it was improper for a lady to stare so brazenly at any man, let alone a prince.
“I am glad to see you are feeling better.” She was quick to change the subject, fiddling with the pages of her book. “The girls and I were beginning to worry for your health.”
Only hearing what he wanted to, Daeron pointed out what she said, “You worry for my health?”
It made his chest tighten. A tingling sensation ran over his entire body, hearing those words. Maybe it was because of his selective hearing, but to him, those words meant that there was some part of her that cared for him as well. That she thought about him after their initial meeting.
Noticing his reaction, she sat up straighter, trying to hide herself, her feelings.
“I worry for your health as I worry for the king's health.” She reiterated, tone more flat than before. “You are a prince of the realm, I hope that you live a long and prosperous life.”
Never before did he believe he would live a long, prosperous life. For years he drank himself into an early grave, in the hopes that one day he would go to sleep and never wake again. But now he felt otherwise, wishing to wake up to her face, in her arms.
“I apologize for the other day.” Trying to find another topic, in hopes that it wouldn’t end like the other ones, she said. “I won't lie, I was a bit drunk. Yet, that is no excuse for me to act out of turn.”
“Truthfully, I wasn’t drunk enough.” He huffed out.
It was true, Daeron wished he had the confidence to tell her everything, admitting that they were meant for one another. But he couldn’t find the right way to say it without sounding insane.
She laughed again, and Gods he could listen to the noise all day. He thought it impossible to fall in love with her anymore, yet she found a way to entrap him more.
Adding on, Daeron told her honestly, “Do not apologize. It was nice to have someone be themselves around me."
“It is nice to have a person that I can be myself around.” She said with a smile.
Even though he already knew, with the way she would immediately relax around him, it was still nice to hear her admit that she was open with him.
“Me as well.” Wondering what made him different, Daeron asked, “Why is it that you feel so safe with me?”
In truth, he was instigating. She was engaged, to be married in a few weeks. There was no way he could declare his love so publicly without backlash. But if she were to do it first, then it would be a different story.
“I honestly have no clue.” She shrugged. “What about you?”
“I don’t know either.” Daeron had to lie, just as Emely had done to him.
His confidence began to wane, as the effects of the alcohol started to wear off. Mouth going dry, he looked around to see if there was a pitcher nearby. To his greatest dismay, there was not.
Not wanting to embarrass himself further, he wished for the attention to be put on her. “What are you reading?”
“Oh, it's just some stupid book I would read as a young girl.” Flipping the book, she made sure the title was hidden against her legs. It was clear she was embarrassed by it.
“You seemed interested in it.” Daeron pried, wanting to know more about her interests. “It can't be that dumb.”
“It's a romance.” She sighed almost sadly. Shoulders tense, she waited for him to make fun of her. “A very cliche one, might I add”
“Romance?” Daeron asked with a small smile. “I didn’t peg you as a romantic.”
“Silly isn’t it?” She chuckled bitterly. Her frame was defeated, saddened by the fate that was forced upon her. “The one who is in an arranged marriage still wishes for a true, deep love?”
“I don’t think it’s silly at all.” Daeron was quick to comfort her.
“Ruben is a kind man. A good man.” It sounded more as though she were trying to convince herself more than anything. “I know with time I will learn to love him.”
“But it is not the love you are looking for.” Daeron added on, understanding what she was getting at.
“No. I want that kind of love where from the moment you meet, you know that they’re the one.” She was getting closer to saying what she wanted. What they both felt. “Do you believe in that kind of love?”
“I do now.” The words poured out of his mouth before he could even think.
Tension fell on them like an anvil, hard and unmoving. It was the confirmation that they both needed. It wasn't imagination, it was meant to be. They were meant to be.
“I need to tell you something- I know it may sound impossible, but I believe-” Daeron began to admit, hoping she would understand.
“Ahh there you are.” Another voice cut them off as footsteps approached.
The tension tour as she straightened her back, putting on a font. “Ruben.”
Pushing past the long, dangling branches of the willow tree, Ruben saw the scene before him. His soon to be wife sitting tall against the trunk of the tree, and a prince lounging at her feet. His face hardened as his body straightened.
“Supper is ready.” He said more sternly than before.
“Right.” She quickly responded, scrambling to her feet to take her place beside her betrothed.
Ruben placed a hand on her back, territorially. The way he looked at Daeron was proof that Ruben could tell something was there. Something that could ruin his wedding before she even walked down the aisle.
“Oh,” She turned to Daeron before walking away. “What were you saying?”
“It was nothing.” He shook his head. “I think I am not feeling well again. I shall have supper in my room.”
As Daeron rose to his feet, she gave him a sad look. They both knew it was a lie, but with Ruben there, nothing more could be said, lest he found out how deep the attraction between the two went.
Next ->
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My midterms are finally over and I have finished my Aerion fic, so now all of my attention should hopefully be going into this one!!! Since the chapters are longer, I do not have a sepecific posting time! But bare with me, I will finish this fic!!!! Hopefully sooner rather than later lol. I do have 10 chapters planned out. I might extend it if it feels too cramped. Either way, I really hope you all will enjoy what I have planned for yall <3
You should consider joining my discord server! I am most active there and I would LOVE to talk to yall about this fic. I am so so excited and just wanna ramble on about it with people who are interested! (Link here: https://discord.gg/32eEn7XyuE)
See you all next time!!! Love you all!!
Taglist (If you wish to be added/removed from this list, comment or dm me):
I got this commission done of what I believed the main character (Syra) to look like!!
Even though it was an x reader, i always imagine an OC to help write and then just remove ALL mentions of detail of them so anyone can put themselves in the place of the main character! but I just wanted to show off this amazing art I had bought!!
Masterlist
Summery: After the brith of their twins Maegor and Visenya, Aerion and his wife went onto have one more child, Vaera. The three children went off to live very different lives, as detailed in the history book below.
I do not read the books, but I did a lot of research for this chapter.
Chapter 22 (FINAL CHAPTER): A Page from the History Books
Warnings: MAJOR BOOK SPOILERS!! This chapter is different than the others, being written from an outside perspective explaining what all happens after last chapter. As AKOTSK goes is long before GOT, this chapter basically goes from 210-282 and explains the entire life from birth to death of every character.
Again, this chapter has information of many cannon and oc character's lives and deaths!!
you have been warned!
Word count: 5,643
<- Previous
Aerion Targaryen and His Wife:
After the birth of their twins (210), Aerion and his wife had another child, Vaera (213). While the pregnancy went well there were complications during the birth, almost killing her in the process.
Even though they wished to have more children, the maesters suggested against it, warning that she would most likely die. She often begged Aerion to reconsider, willing to take the risk. But Aerion adamantly refused. He was happy with his three children and would not want to raise the children alone, like his father had done.
Not long after they moved to Summerhall full time, wishing to raise their children away from the eyes of others, but would often visit the Redkeep to see family and to keep their children socialized with the court.
Rumors spread as to why they decided to move, many surrounding the foul personality of their eldest daughter, Visenya. She was known to be awful, and some suspected that her madness spread to others, as some children at court, as they began to have unexplained bruises appear on their body. Though it was never confirmed that she was the cause.
The relationship between Aerion and his wife was strange to the outside spectator, as his wife always treated the people around her nicely, when Aerion was quite the opposite. She would hang off her husband with a constant smile, while he bore one of disinterest. People of the court pitied his wife, not understanding how she could be happy with a husband like him.
Aerion was the same with his children, raising them with an iron fist, making people believe that Aerion was not a good father. Even so, it was clear to everyone that Aerion had a favorite, Visenya. Whenever questions were raised about her violent tendencies, he adamantly fought anyone who dared to question his daughter.
When the family were seen in public, Visenya always stuck close to her father, as Vaera and Maegor would cling to their mother. Maegor and Vaera made it clear to all that they did not enjoy their sister or father’s mad personalities, being more soft spoken and shy.
In 232 Aerion drank wildfire, believing it would turn him into a dragon after a dream he had. His body burned from the inside out, killing him instantly and only leaving behind a pile of ash.
His wife was away in Braavos, visiting her family at the time. She blamed herself for his death, knowing she could have prevented the horrific incident if she were home.
When she returned, she was devastated by the news. Even more upset that she couldn’t even see her husband one last time, holding onto his urn during the entire funeral.
Not many attended, as he was not well liked. The now widowed wife was comforted by her son Maegor, while Visenya stood quietly as ever. Vaera never showed any form of emotion or care over her fathers death. Some believed she was even happy.
Afterwards, his wife was often found roaming around the halls of Summerhall like a ghost, crying that she could not continue living without Aerion. Six months later (233) she died from a heart failure. Most believed it was caused by the devastation from losing her husband.
Visenya The Insane Targaryen:
Looks:
Visenya’s hair was silver. Except for the locks of hair above both of her temples. They were the same color as her mother’s. She had wavy hair that bordered on curly, and preferred to keep it half up and half down in many different styles. She was obsessed with the different colored strands, keeping them in front of her shoulders while tucking her front silver strands behind her ears so she could stand out more.
Her eyes were a deep violet, like her fathers. But when looking closely at them, there was a small burst of magenta and specks of gold in it. Most people didn’t know the true shape of her eyes, as she often squinted, holding a scowl on her face.
Her bottom lip was bigger than the top, and as she rarely gave a genuine smile, it looked as though she were eternally upset or snarky. Her lips only turned into a smile when she put others down (mainly her brother) and when she caused people pain.
When she was a child, she was a chubby-short toddler, making her look younger than her twin brother. As she grew older, she caught up to Maegor in height, and lost most of her fat, showing her lean face that matched her father’s perfectly.
When she was able to pick her own clothes, she went outside of the normal warm toned colors of her house. Preferring the material silk, she often used a mix of golds and purples, knowing it made her stand out from other family members.
Early Life:
Visenya was the first child, even though she was a twin. She was born first and believed she was better for it. Even as a babe, her mad tendencies showed through. Between her and her brother, she was the first to cry, causing him to follow, and would keep going long after Maegor calmed down.
Whenever someone would show any form of pain, Visenya could be found giggling at their reaction. As she grew older, she would try to force harm on others, in hopes to get satisfaction from it.
One of her favorite victims was her uncle, Daeron Targaryen. Nicknamed the demon child by him, she would sneak up on him, biting down on his leg and laughing as he hobbled away in pain.
Aside from her parents, the only other person she had respect for was her uncle Aegon. It was strange, and no one understood it. Aegon often tried to help guide her in the right direction, usually hoping that his elder brother’s influence wouldn’t last for long.
Aerion, her father, was her favorite person in the world. He gave her all of the attention she wanted, focusing on her more than her other siblings. Visenya often followed him around, learning from copying what he did.
Often crashing her brother’s lessons, Aerion decided to train Visenya with sword and bow as well. Even from a young age, she showed great skill, and as time went on Aerion began to put more effort in her training.
While she still respected and loved her mother, Visenya didn’t appreciate her as much. Being the voice of reason between her parents, her mother often was the one to scold her for her cruel actions.
Yet, when Visenya had personal troubles, she found herself running into her mother’s arms. Aerion was good for punishing others, but her mother always knew how to comfort her. Visenya’s favorite activity with her mother was having her mother do her hair, finding joy with her mother’s fingers combing and moving it around.
During the younger years, she was extremely close with her twin brother. To her, Maegor was the only other person in her life that was as important as her. They did all of their activities together, and would stay up later than they were supposed to, playing with one another and reading together.
As her brother felt like a failure, she tried her hardest to help him, taking their training late into the night. But she often was harsher than her father, pressing her brother to the brink and causing him to never improve. Visenya was saddened when Maegor asked for her not to train him anymore.
When Vaera was born, Visenya despised the attention she got. Wishing to strip her from any more love, Visenya pretended Vaera didn’t exist.
Teen Years:
Visenya’s superiority complex only grew with time. While she stopped being physically violent towards others, her tongue was as sharp as a sword.
Aerion picked her as his true hair formally, declaring that everything of his would go to her. He adamantly defended this to everyone who protested, even his wife. It made her feel untouchable when it came to the court.
No one was safe from Visenya’s wrath, not even her family members. When she couldn’t reach a person herself, she would cry to her father, lying that they were harming her in some way or another. Aerion would always punish them, even having a few people sent to the wall.
The court nicknamed her ‘The Insane’ due to her actions. A name she wore with pride, just as his father had with his.
The relationship between her and her brother broke down once they no longer shared a room. Visenya had an unhealthy attachment to Maegor, not being able to accept the fact that they were now separated.
She often would sneak into his room at night to be able to sleep beside him. When he kicked Visenya out, wishing to have his own space as a growing man, Visenya felt dejected.
To make herself feel better, she made him feel small. Constantly insulting him in front of others, and making fun of every aspect of him. Their relationship had become non-existent, as he avoided her at all cost.
Through all of it, she wished to grow close to him again, going back to the way they were. That dream died when he married, moving away with his new wife. Visenya would write letters to him, begging him to return.
All letters went unanswered.
While her aggression towards others grew, she started being kinder to her younger sister Vaera. After spending her entire life ignoring the young girl, she invited Vaera to tea.
During these teas, it was mainly just Visenya talking about her day, and the people she hated to Vaera. Vaera never really engaged, mainly just nodding her head along and giving basic responses. It bored Viseyna to death, but it was better for her to have someone than for her to feel alone.
Her relationship stayed much the same with her mother. She made her opinions on Visenya’s actions clear, often yelling at her. While Visenya cares for her mother, what she doesn’t care for is her opinion. With her father on her side, she never faced repercussions.
Adulthood:
As no sane man wished to marry her, Visenya’s prospects were left to her parents to handle. Aerion was picky with the options, only wanting the best for their daughter, while his wife had to remind him that the options were few and far between.
By the grace of the Gods, they were able to secure a match with Tywald Lannister, the heir to Casterly Rock. He was a kind and caring man. Writing letters to her before they were wed, Visenya knew that she didn’t care for her betrothed all that much for him.
In 229, they were married in Casterly Rock. No expenses were spared, being one of the grandest weddingings of the century. Even though many of the people in the court did not care for Visenya, they attended, not wanting to be left out of the party.
Even Maegor came, being the first time the twins saw or spoke to one another in four years. While their relationship was still strained, they put their differences aside, being there for one another in a pivotal moment.
As a wedding gift, Aerion procured Dark Sister from Lord Bloodraven. Making a grand show of it, he gifted the sword to his daughter, the sword that belonged to the first Visenya Targaryen.
After they were married, Tywald did everything to please his wife, often having to spend a lot of money to do so. Though it never truly satisfied her, she began to tolerate her husband, keeping their relationship mostly civil.
A year after their marriage, Visenya gave birth to a boy (230). Her father and mother traveled to her for the birth to support Visenya. Her mother was one of the people holding her hand, helping her throughout the process.
When the boy was born, Visenya wished to name her son Aerion, after her father. For the first time, Tywald stood firmly against his wife. As this boy would be the next heir to Casterly Rock, he needed to be named as a Lannister.
Very reluctantly, Visenya was forced to agree, naming him Gerold Lannister.
Motherhood did not suit her. The constant crying of the child and need for attention was not appealing to her. She left Gerold to be mostly raised by the midwives, even having a wet nurse to feed him
When hearing of her fathers death, followed by her mothers. Visenya was distraught by the news. Instead of crying or letting out her anger, she became quiet, more reserved. It was almost as if she became a different person.
In 233, Tywald Lannister died in battle, fighting beside Aegon the V. Visenya was not saddened by the news of his death, but the reaping of Gerold’s title. As he was only three years old at the time, the higher ups of the house Lannister decided it would be best to pass the role of heir to Tywald’s twin brother, Tion Lannister.
Visenya knew the true reason for the uprooting. They were scared of her. Scared of her influence on the Lannister line without Tywald there to guide their son. She had lost everything, feeling completely alone.
Wishing to be close to her family, to be with the Targaryens again, she moved back to the Red Keep to raise her son. Aegon was reluctant at first to let her stay with them, fearing she would be mean to his children and grandchildren, as she was to others.
Aegon was relieved to find that she had calmed down, still respecting him as her superior and king. When Gerold came of age, Aegon allowed the boy to become his ward, teaching the boy everything Duncan had taught him.
Death and Legacy:
At the age of 37, in 247, Visenya went to sleep in her bed, never to wake again. Aegon had her examined, fearing that there was foul play involved. But the maesters found nothing, not understanding the reason for her death.
Gerold was sworn into the knighthood of the kingsguard, swearing to never take a wife or sire any children. Even so, rumour says that he fell in love with a maid, siring a bastard. But there is no proof of such a thing.
Maegor The Intelligent Targaryen:
Looks:
Being identical twins, Maegor looked strikingly similar to Visenya. With wavy silver hair, the locks that grew out from above his temples matched the hair of his mothers. He preferred keeping his hair short, but long enough where the waves of his hair were defined.
Maegor had purple eyes like other Targaryens. But unlike his sister’s, they were a light violet, without a hint of any other color. His eyelashes were long and thick, making him look more feminine, something he was bullied for.
Even from birth, Maegor was scrawny. His skin kept close to his bones, holding little to no fat. When growing up, he took a different course than Visenya. Most of his height developed when he was young, making him tall for his age. But it stopped around the age of thirteen, keeping him at an average height.
Maegor always preferred the finer things in life when it came to clothing. Often taking inspiration from women’s dresses, he preferred a more feminine look that was not appreciated by the people at court. Most of his clothes consisted of puffy shoulders, and loose hanging fabrics. Using a mix of different fabrics, his favorites were wool, velvet and leather.
Early Life:
Speech was not Maegor’s strong suit. He began talking a year later than most children. When he did learn to speak, he had a speech impediment where he would repeat his sentence again, just more quietly.
Being born in a time where anything different was considered bad, he was often made fun of by all kinds of people in the castle, noble and peasant alike. Both of his parents fought the courts, vexing them for saying such a thing about a member of the royal family.
But in private, his father was harsher than any stranger could be. Aerion made it known that he was greatly disappointed, frustrated that his heir came out ‘broken’. Most of his childhood he spent trying to be better, hoping his father would accept him
No matter what he did, he felt as though Aerion’s expectations were too high. Visenya excelled in everything he was bad at: sword, bow, speech, striking fear in people's hearts.
Following in her father’s footsteps, Visenya would make fun of Maegor, defining his faults. While he was close to her, part of him despised her for being better than him, being favored by their father. Many nights were spent looking at her from his bed, trying to figure out how to become more like her.
Maegor was closest with his mother. Instead of vexing him for his impediment, she tried to help him work through it. They spent most of their time together in the library, reading all sorts of different books out loud.
The library was his comfort. The pages were his friends. And his mother was there to support him. Physically he could not grow, but he was determined to make his mind strong. And he did just that.
During one of their reading sessions, Maegor accidentally told his mother how his father and sister had treated him. The reason why he never mentioned it before was because he knew what the outcome would be:
Sitting outside his parents room, he listened as his parents fought, sharing nasty words with one another. In the end, his mother moved to another room, refusing to be around Aerion until he started treating Maegor better.
While Aerion held his snide comments, and his father would stop Visenya from speaking them, he knew his father still felt the same. Instead of feeling rejected by words, it became clear that Aerion blamed his son for getting between him and his wife. It did not take long for things to go back to the way they were before, and strangely, that was better.
Maegor quite liked his little sister Vaera. When she was a babe, he would talk to her, knowing that she could not judge him for his speech. To practice, he would read out loud to her. And as she began to walk, she would follow him into the library, sitting with him. It was nice for him to have another family member that cared for him.
The only person he felt that Maegor could truly be himself around was Marilla Tyrell, the only daughter of Leo Tyrell. Whenever the family visited the Red Keep, he often hid in the gardens, reading.
Marilla would find him, and they would discuss the book. She never made fun of him, never treating him as if he were lesser than her. It didn’t take any time for Maegor to fall for her, wishing to marry her one day.
Even though they couldn't be together as often as he wished, living at Summerhall, they exchanged letters often, keeping in touch, growing closer to one another. Marilla’s letters were his lifeline in the dark times of his family.
Teen Years:
When Aerion named Visenya as his heir, Maegor felt relief more than upset. He was no longer shackled down by the expectations his father placed on him. As he no longer had any real obligation to deal with his father, he often avoided the man.
During puberty, Visenya began to publicly make fun of Maegor in conversation. Whenever they stood together in a group, she would always find a way to point out his faults, thinking it made her look better.
Even when he tried to distance himself from Visenya, she always found a way to weasel into his life. Whether that be by breaking into his room at night and waking him, demanding he talked to her, or crashing his time with Marilla.
Through it all, he did feel bad for her. It was clear she wanted them to be close like they were as children, but he couldn’t look past her actions to ever forgive her. Preferring to keep her at arms length.
The amount of knowledge he consumed had paid off, becoming a very well read man, even gaining the nickname ‘The Intelligent’. People often compared him to his uncle Aemon, who had never met. Like his uncle Aemon, his father often offered to send him to Old Town to become a maester.
Maegor always refused, as he felt as though his father only wished to get rid of him. While he loved gaining more knowledge, he knew that he would rarely be able to see his mother and younger sister if he did such a thing.
More importantly, if he left, he knew he would never be able to marry Marilla. After years, he tried his hardest to push his feelings for her aside, thinking they were not reciprocated.
After a long night, accompanied by wine, Maegor confessed his feelings to Marilla, asking for her hand in marriage. To his surprise, she enthusiastically agreed, happy that he finally asked.
What Maegor didn’t do was ask permission from his parents or hers. His biggest supporter was his mother, fighting on his behalf to make sure that everything would work out.
By the end of the year (225) at age 15, he married Marilla Tyrell. His father helped dress him, acting like a completely different person, acting like a father. To his greatest surprise, Aerion gifted Maegor his Dragon egg under the promise that Maefor would give the egg to his own son.
Being his wife, Marilla moved to Summerhall full time. Living there was difficult, as she didn’t like Visenya or Aerion too much, especially knowing how they treated her husband.
Vaera and Maegor had a very quiet relationship, mostly enjoying each other's company in the quiet of the library. They both loved it, not feeling obligated to talk or be someone they weren’t. Sometimes they did talk to one another about the book they were reading. Those moments were valuable to the pair.
Adulthood:
A year later, not being able to take much more of his father and sister’s cruelty, Maegor finally agreed with Marilla to move. Marilla had wanted to go back to her home at Highgarden, wishing to be around people that truly cared for her and her husband.
Maegor’s mother pleaded with him to stay, not ready for any of her children to move out of the house. But she couldn’t blame him for wishing to escape the mess of the family. Her only hope was that he would visit or write.
Even though they tried for many years, Marilla and Maegor were never able to produce a child. Trying to find any possible way around it, the maesters examined her, realizing that Marilla was sterile. Devastated by the news, they no longer kept their hopes of ever having a child of their own.
After his father’s death, Maegor stayed at Summerhall with his mother, trying to help her recover from the grief. Though he could tell she appreciated the company, he was only able to do little to nothing to make her feel better.
Maegor was the one to find his mother’s dead body after the heart attack.
As Vaera now lived alone at Summerhall, Maegor offered for her to move to Highgarden to be with him and his wife. She kindly refused, preferring to live in Kings Landing in the Red Keep.
When his grandfather Maekar I died (233), his succession was up in the air. As Aerion was the last named heir, the title would be passed onto his heir, that being Visenya.
The great council quickly decided against it, fearing her shared madness with Aerion, and because she was a woman. They then turned their heads to Maegor. Thinking he was the perfect candidate: Kind, smart, easily manipulated.
Maegor declined the role, preferring to live the simple role of nobleman from Highgarden. That and, Maegor knew that he would not be able to produce an heir to go after him. No matter what, the line of succession would go to his cousins.
After almost 40 years of marriage, Marilla Tyrell died from tetanus with her husband by her side. Seeing as there was nothing tying him to his family name anymore, Maegor renounced all titles, moving to a small hut on the shores of Shield Island.
Death and Legacy:
The only thing Maegor left was the dragon egg his father had given him. Sending it to his nephew Gerold to hold onto, knowing his father wished for it to be passed down through his line. A letter was attached, addressed to Vaera, apologizing for not being there for her more throughout their childhood, and even adulthood.
No one knew what happened to him after that. It could only be assumed that he died of old age at some point and time.
Vaera The Forgotten Targaryen:
Looks:
Practically the carbon copy, Vaera looked exactly like her mother in almost every way: body, skin color, marks, and face.
The only main difference was her hair and eyes. She too had wavey, silver hair. Unlike her siblings, her hair was pure, not a spec of another color mingling with it. Never cutting it, she left it long, letting it flow freely.
Vaera’s eyes were a deep violet color, almost matching her father’s perfectly. There was rarely a glint in them, most saying they felt as though they were looking at a dead person when gazing into her eyes.
Face void of any expression, Vaera tended to not move those muscles all that much. It was uncanny to most, so they tried their best to avoid her.
Unlike the rest of her family, Vaera preferred simple clothing, wishing to not stand out, hoping it would help her to fade into the shadows. Using cheap fabrics, she preferred bland colors like black, grey or beige.
Early Life:
When Vaera was born she never cried, never showed any form of emotions. Most wondered if she was born without a soul. Her being brought into the world was difficult on everyone in the family, as she almost killed her mother in the process.
Growing up, she was a very quiet child, only talking when she felt the need to. When she did speak, there was no affliction in her voice, nor did her expression ever change, making people believe she was bored of them, which caused her to not make any friends.
Even as a young babe, Vaera could feel that her father didn’t care for her as much as her siblings. They never had a bad relationship, but they never had a good one either.
She was often scared of her father, seeing him as a cruel, absolute authority figure. Being witness to the way Aerion treated Maegor, Vaera feared if she spoke up, she too would be treated the same. It was easy for her to avoid him as most of his attention was on her mother or Visenya.
She was often looked over, especially by her parents. As Aerion’s attention was focused on training Visenya, and her mother would spend most of her time helping Maegor with his speech.
While it wasn’t the best, it gave her the freedom to do what she wished without repercussions. Vaera’s favorite activity was roaming around, exploring the woods behind Summerhall. She was able to do it for hours without anyone realizing that she was ever gone.
She enjoyed seeing the wildlife, a lot of them allowed her to come up to them, as they could tell she was no harm. Always bringing something back to the palace, she would pick at the foliage, using it to decorate her room.
Her mother did try her hardest to form a relationship with Vaera, but it never went too well. Joining her on walks or reading with her, her mother hoped to connect to her youngest daughter, but there was always something missing, a deeper connection that was unable to be formed.
With that missing, it was hard to communicate or lean on her mother, causing their relationship to just be overall awkward. Still, Vaera loved her mother as her mother loved her, appreciating the effort she put forth.
Maegor was the one she felt closest with. While their bond was never made from talking. They would enjoy each other's company in silence while reading. Even though he believed she forgot, she did remember the times that Maegor would read to her, often stuttering over his words. She looked up to him, wanting to be like him one day.
Teen Years:
Not much changed between Vaera’s younger years and teenage life. She didn’t have any friends, as no one liked her and she never tried to branch out and meet new people.
When her brother moved away, she felt very alone, as he was the only person she could call her friend. Now he never wished to return home. At first, she exchanged letters with him, and he would respond, but over time, they lost touch as he settled into his life.
Visenya, after many years of acting as though Vaera never existed, finally began to interact with her. It started with a small stare, looking at her and not through her. Then evolved to small gestures, like a wave or nod.
By the end of it. Vaera and Visenya were often found drinking tea in the garden together. Most of the time, it was Visenya talking, hammering on about some lord or lady that offended her. Vaera would nod along, listening, rarely giving her opinion.
Still, Vaera didn’t like Visenya all too much, as she was cruel and vile. But, it was better to have someone rather than no one. At least Visenya’s wrath wasn’t pointed toward her anymore.
Vaera began to explore the idea of religion through books. Specifically, she followed the Faith of the Seven. Becoming a devout follower, she practiced in her own time.
Whenever she would travel to Kings Landing with her family, she spent most of her time in the Great Sept of Baelor. The High Septon took her in like one of his own, teaching her the ways of the religion.
Vaera hated returning home to Summerhall, wishing to stay in Kings Landing. But she also couldn’t find herself leaving her mother, seeing how distraught she was after Maegor left.
Adulthood:
Being the only child left in the house, all of the attention was on her. The relationship with her parents began to change as she was invited to dinner with them more often. But it would always turn into her two parents talking and her sitting silently, hating the way they looked and listening to her when she actually spoke.
Most men did not like her plain personality, nor did she care for any of their opinions. Her mother tried multiple times to find a good match for her, wishing for her daughter to enjoy the thrill of married life. They would always say no. Yet, there were a few small cases where they said yes, wishing to climb the ranks and marry a member of the royal family.
The engagement never last. Either the men would break it off themselves, or her father would step in, not wishing for the man to marry into his family. No matter what, it would always be because the man found a more personable woman, noble or whore.
After the death of her father, Vaera was relieved that Maegor stayed with her and their mother, knowing that she would not be able to handle the emotions of her grieving mother by herself.
When her mother eventually passed, she had no other reason to stay at home, officially moving to the Red Keep with her grandfather, the King. Most of her time was spent volunteering at the Sept.
The High Septon suggested that she became a Silent Sister, knowing that she did not like to talk often, only focusing on her job. Not wanting to handle dead bodies, or be restricted from communicating with her brother or sister, she rejected the offer.
Renouncing her titles, she became a Septa for the Red keep, teaching the children of the royal family. Vaera was able to teach her nephew, Gerold, once Visenya moved to the castle.
Finding children easier to talk to than adults, Vaera loved spending time with the youth. Most of her spare time was spent helping in orphanages, like her mother had before moving to Summerhall.
There, she found a little girl that she grew heavily attached to, practically raising her as she often visited. Once the girl came of age, Vaera helped her get a job in the Red Keep as a maid, so they may stay close.
Devoting most of her life to the children of the Royal Family, Vaera became the septa for King Jaehary's children, Arys and Rhaella (253).
While she tried her hardest not to show favoritism between the two, she tended to Rhaella more, as Arys reminded her greatly of her father. She felt shame, sinful for blaming a child for her fathers wrongdoings. Often praying to the Seven to help her through it.
When Arys and Rhaella debated on names for a daughter, Rhaella wished to name her Vaera, liking the name of their septa. Arys disagreed greatly, opting for the name Daenerys.
Death and Legacy:
Vaera died in 281 at the age 68. The cause of death was fungal pneumonia after scavenging in the Kingwood. She died in her bed, with the maid she had grown close to her by her side.
All who would remember Vaera died during Robert’s Rebellion, her name being forgotten to history.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
This being my longest chapter of the whole fic is actually so funny to me. I had it all written out and decided to add more. ended up adding 4,000 words LMAO
I also had to make sure that none of them lived through roberts rebellion. they do not deserve that…
I am so devastated to say that this is in fact the end of the fic :( this fic has really helped me though a rough semester of college. I really appreciated your love and support though it all!
please follow me or join my discord server (https://discord.gg/SPNmyV8qJR) if you wish to talk with me or stay updated on my stories!!!
thank you so os much for everything, I love you guy!
Taglist: (If you wish to be added/removed from this list, comment or dm me)
Summery: She didn't know what to expect when sailing across the sea to marry a man she had never met before. Even though she was going in blind, she had hopes that her marriage would at least be bearable. Little did she know she would be marrying the hotheaded Aerion Bright-flame Targaryen. Marriage with him would be more than difficult, but she was determined to win him over.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
Tags: No Use of Y/N, Not Canon Compliant, Possessive Behavior, Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, finding love in an arranged marriage, Misogyny, Aerion does not know how to love, Fluff, semi-soft Aerion
Chapter 21: Two Bundles of Joy
Warnings: childbirth, breastfeeding
Word count: 3,466
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“Aerion!” She shouted loudly, voice cracking in the process. “Where is my husband?”
The words died in her throat, not allowing her to call out more. The only thing that was able to release was the horrifying shriek that bubbled from deep within her chest. Slicked in sweat, her gown grossly stuck to her body.
“He is not allowed in here, princess.” The midwife informed her, holding onto her hand for support.
She wished to protest, demanding he come and assist her, yet the only thing she could do was cry and heave. Three midwives helped her, encouraging her to keep pushing. In between attempts she pleaded. Not to anyone in specific, just praying for it to be over.
The door opened with a smack, hitting against the stoney walls of the Red Keep. Aerion had been sitting outside her door, listening to all of her cries. To anyone who saw, they’d think he didn’t care, face and stance as stern as ever. Some even whispered a thought that he enjoyed hearing her in so much pain.
Their rumors were far from the truth.
Horrific screams filled his ears, both the ones of her currently and the ones shown to him in his dreams. Aerion hated that he could not enter, being plagued to stand behind the door. Part of him wished to enter, not caring for the idiotic rule. All forms of restraint broke when he heard his wife calling out for him.
“My prince, you cannot be in here.” The midwife that sat between the princess’ legs stood up to block him from continuing with her bloodied hands.
Aerion didn’t respond to the older woman. To him, she was a lowlife. A person who couldn’t order him around. It took nothing for him to push past her, going over to his wife’s side. The other midwife that held onto her hand quickly moved, not wishing to feel his wrath.
“Aerion, it hurts.” She huffed out, reaching out to him, needing him close.
“I know.” Aerion took her hand in his, kneeling beside the bed. He rubbed his finger over her damp skin, kissing her knuckles.
Normally he did not like others viewing him being affectionate, as he worried that people would think that he had gone soft. But in this case, he didn’t care. He worried for his wife, and needed to be there for her.
“I-” Her words failed her as her breath labored. “I feel like I am going to die.”
The look on her face struck fear into his heart, the images of his nightmare playing behind his eyes. Quickly turning to the midwives, Aerion demanded. “Fetch the maester!”
“Everything is going perfectly.” The midwife told both her and Aerion.
“I do not care.” Aerion demanded, thinking that these women were no experts. “Fetch him.”
The midwife hesitated. She knew she had to listen to Aerion’s command, but also knew that it wasn’t the best idea for her to leave when the babes were so close to breaching. Deciding it would be best to do as the prince said, she stood, walking to the door. Instead of finding him herself, she ordered the guard that stood outside to get him.
That was the exact reason why husbands weren’t allowed in the room. They never understood the process of childbirth, ordering the midwives to do their jobs. It distracted from what they needed to focus on, the babe. Ruining the hopes of a smooth birth.
“This is how giving birth feels.” The other midwife informed her, trying to calm her worries.
“No.” Was all she cried.
She knew that childbirth hurt. Everyone told her so. But this pain was too much. Too wrong to be right. After Aerion’s nightmare, she believed that this was it for her, that she was going to die at that moment. She regretted telling him not to stress about it, now when all she could do was worry.
“You have to push” The midwife encouraged her, knowing that she was close.
Wanting it to be over quickly, she listened, pushing with all of her might. Her screams echoed through the room, piercing everyone's ear. When she couldn’t push anymore, she fell back on the bed, trying to catch her breath.
Aerion moved one of his hands away from hers, reaching for her forehead. Wiping away the beads of sweat that built up, he encouraged her, “Everything will be fine, I will make sure of it.”
“Keep pushing.” The midwife told her.
The midwife that was positioned between her legs informed everyone, “I see the crown of the head.”
With a deep breath, she pushed once more. The sounds of the midwives telling her to keep going, were muffled as she strained every muscle in her body to push out the babe.
It was the strangest feeling, having something moving out of her in such a way. There was a great sense of relief as the thing slipped out of her. Breathing heavily, she sighed out, relaxing a bit as though it was all over.
“It’s a girl.” The midwife told them, cutting the umbilical cord and wrapping her up in a soft cloth.
Aerion was quick to abandon her side, going to see Visenya. She was uglier than expected, pruned from being stuck in her mothers womb for nine months. Even with that, Aerion thought she was beautiful.
After taking her first breath, she began to scream loudly into the air, like she already detested being alive. The midwife handed the crying girl to Aerion, letting him be the first to truly hold his daughter.
She looked exactly like him, like a Targaryen. Her eyes were a deep violet color, with magenta around her pupils. The thing that made her different from the normal Targaryen was her hair. Being born with a full head of hair, it was mostly silver, aside from two strands. Above her temples, on both sides, sat a tuft of hair that matched her mother’s.
He didn’t know what to do with the small screaming creature, as it awkwardly squirmed in his arms. Looking at the midwives, he wanted them to help. But they had turned away from him, preparing for the other child.
Left with Visenya, he stood there, watching her crying, screaming face. Rubbing her bloodied head, he tried to soothe her.
The midwife replaced his spot beside her, holding her hand to help her. “The other one is coming.”
“Another?” She questioned, pain making her delirious. She had forgotten she was pregnant with twins. “Why have the gods blessed me with two.”
“Just once more and you are done.” They told her warmly.
The second one was easier than the first, having already been opened up. Yet, it didn’t hurt any less. Her screams mixed with Visenya’s as the second, and last, babe was pushed out of her.
“It’s a boy.” The midwife informed them. Though the news was of no surprise to either of them, with Aerion’s vision.
Her screams were replaced by Maegor’s having both of the babes crying loudly into the air.
The relief of feeling empty once more overtook her, as she laid back on the bed, catching her breath. Aerion walked over to her, the crying Visenya still in his arms. Her labored breaths slowly turned into small chuckles, as she reached out for her baby.
Visenya’s small, shaking body was placed in her arms. Her eyes watered at the sight of their daughter. Rubbing Visenya’s face, she removed the small amount of blood that stuck to her.
Maegor was handed to Aerion, as he stayed by his wife. With her now bloodied hand, she reached out for Maegor, looking at him as well. Caressing his cheek, she was filled with joy. They looked identical, having the same features. The only difference was the magenta color was missing from Maegor’s eyes, leaving a light violet color.
“They are beautiful.” She choked out a sigh.
Aerion looked down at his boy, his heir. Just like Visenya, the appearance of a newborn was quite different than he expected. Handsome wasn’t the word he would have used to describe them, but he hoped that they would both grow into their looks.
Even though the twins were now born, the maester entered the room, as requested. Seeing as everything was fine, he did not rush over to them, merely making his way over slowly.
“It is all okay.” Aerion told him, only glancing away from his wife and children. “You were not needed”
“Let me check on them.” The maester suggested, as he might as well see the health of the babes. Looking over the crying children, he didn’t bother trying to remove them from the parents arms. “They are both healthy.”
“Good.” Aerion said, already knowing that they were perfect.
Wanting to hold Visenya again, Aerion traded the children, Maegor was the first to calm down, finding comfort in his mother’s arms, but Visenya kept on screaming.
“You should try feeding them soon.” The maester informed them.
The midwife agreed with a nod, “It should help them calm down.”
Since his job was complete, the maester let them be, leaving the room. She shrugged off the strap of her gown, freeing her breast. She cringed at the strange feeling of having her babe feed from it.
“Try bouncing her softly.” The midwife suggested to Aerion, as Visenya still cried. “It may soothe her.”
“Shhh.” He hushed Visenya, walking about the room, shaking his arms slightly. “You will get your turn soon enough.”
Focusing on her, the midwives began to clean up the mess. “Would you want us to fetch the maids to draw you a bath?”
“Yes please.” She sighed out of desperation, still being covered in sweat, blood and other bodily fluids.
After feeding both of the children, she was able to be cleaned off as the midwives burped and laid the babes to rest. Aerion never left their side, following the midwives around, to then sitting beside the bassinet, watching them sleep.
It didn’t feel real to him, having two children of his own. They were perfect in every way possible. He couldn’t stop looking at them, planning out exactly how everything in their life would go:
With two brilliantly minded parents, he knew they would be smart, well read. Their beauty would woo the court, being known as the perfect Targaryen's throughout all of history. They would marry into great houses, strengthening the bond of the kingdom. And one day, make him and his wife grandparents, continuing on his family line.
She was dressed after her bath, being led back to the bed that was covered in new, clean sheets. The large cradle was moved beside her, so she had easy access to her children. Aerion sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over the bassinet.
He had ordered the silver-gold dragon egg of his to be laid in the cradle with the two babes. Even though it had been turned to stone long ago, a part of him believed that his children would be able to coax dragons back into existence.
Scooting closer to her husband, she rested her cheek on his shoulder, enjoying the comfort of being alone with their small family. She intertwined her fingers with his, wanting to be held by him.
“They are perfect.” She whispered, not wishing to wake them up. “I am so happy.”
“They are.” Aerion agreed, tearing his eyes away from the children for the first time, to look at her. “You did well.”
“Thank you.” She hummed, leaning in to kiss him lightly. “When I called out to you, I did not expect you to come.”
“Why would I not?” Aerion quietly questioned, feeling offended she would think such things.
“I thought you would be off somewhere else.” She told truthfully. “And I knew the midwives would not go get you.”
“I was outside the door.” He informed her. “It is idiotic. I shall be in the room from the start next time.”
“While I am more than excited to have more children with you. I do need a break.” She chuckled, being overly exhausted from the birth.
“I can give you until the end of the week.” Aerion jests, though his tone gave no indication of such.
“Do not tease.” She warned, knowing her husband. Looking back at the children she sighed sadly. “They really look nothing like me. If I were not the mother, I fear that the court would start a rumor that they are bastards.”
“The Targaryen seed is strong.” Aerion reminded her. Leaning forward he stroked the side of Maegor’s head. “They do have a part of you.”
“That is only two strands on each head.” She sighed sadly.
Maegor stirred in his sleep, whining at being woken up. It didn’t take long for his whine to turn into crying, still exhausted from being born. Being awakened by her brother, Visenya too began to scream into the air. Their sobs entangled into one.
“Awe, look at what you have done.” She groaned as the peace and quiet was over.
Aerion picked Maegor up, wishing to calm him down, and she did the same with Visenya. Walking around the room, Aerion was able to calm down his son in no time, yet he stayed awake, looking at the world around him.
As Visenya’s cries slowed to a stop, a knock lightly emerged from the door. She called for whoever it was to enter. They were ready for visitors as the birth was a few hours past.
The door opened to Maekar entering. He was quick to make his way to his son, wanting to meet his grandson, wishing to see his line continued. Maekar’s normally strong face had softened, as his heart melted. This was the first set of grandchildren.
“You are holding him wrong.” Maekar informed Aerion, worrying for the babe. Reaching for Maegor, he said, “Here, let me.”
“No.” Aerion seethed, moving away from his father, not wishing to give up his son. Not even to his father. “I am holding him perfectly fine.”
Maekar grabbed at Aerion’s arms, forcing him into the correct position. “The head needs more support. Or his neck will snap.”
“That is what I was doing.” Aerion responded, believing that he was doing exactly what his father was expecting.
“You can hold Visenya.” She spoke up, knowing Maekar wanted to, and that Aerion would not give up Maegor.
Walking over to his daughter-in-law, Maekar held the faintest smile. He leaned down closer to the pair, “Hello there.”
She lifted Visenya from her body, so Maekar could grab her. His eyes began to water, heart warming. Turning back to Aerion, he commented. “They look just like you. Especially her. You were a fat baby.”
Chuckling at Maekar’s comment, she wished to have seen baby Aerion, but was lucky she was able to see it through her own children. Aerion hadn’t heard his father, too focused on his own son.
“Congradulations.” Maekar remembered his manners, “Both of you.”
“Thank you.” She softly smiled at Maekar.
Before anything else could be said, the door opened again, unannounced. Kiera held the door open as she leaned on it, catching her breath. It was clear she had run to the room.
“I heard you were receiving guests.” She said in between breaths. Unlike Maekar, her first worry wasn’t the children. Making her way to the bed, Kiera wanted to check on her friend. “How are you? Are you alright?”
“I am doing better.” She smiled at Kiera, reaching her hand out. “Just tired.”
Kiera grasped her hand, comforting her. “I heard everything went well. I am glad you and the children are in good health.”
Squeezing Kiera’s hand, she was grateful. Most of the day, before, during, and after the birth, all the attention was on the children, and not her. “Thank you for caring about me. You are a good friend”
Pulling away from her friend, Kiera wished to see the children. Wiggling her fingers at Visenya, she asked Maegor, “May I see her.”
Maekar was reluctant to give up his granddaughter, but as Kiera was in a higher position, he could not refuse. With his freed hands, he hoped that Aerion would allow him to now hold his grandson.
“Aerion, let your father meet Maegor.” She called out to her husband from the bed, knowing that he didn’t want to give the babe up.
With a grumble, he reluctantly handed over Maegor, but still stuck by his fathers side, watching closely. The room was filled with happiness, as everyone fonded over the newborn children.
The sky began to grow dark as her and Aerion laid against the headboard of the bed together. His feet were pressed into the mattress, knees in the air, as he rested Visenya in the crevasse between his thighs. Cradling Maegor in her arms, she let him get his fill of food.
“She is so fat in comparison to Maegor.” Aerion commented, looking at Visenya’s violet, curious eyes. Her hands were wrapped around her father’s fingers as she moved them around aimlessly.
“She must have been the reason why I ate so much.” She thought, looking down at Maegor’s face of comfort, as he suckled from her breast.
“Did you steal all of your brother’s food while you were in your mother’s belly?” Aerion asked her, leaning in to nuzzle her face. Visenya cooed in response.
“That is probably why he is so hungry now.” She chuckled. “He has been starved for nine months.”
“You can no longer do that. Maegor needs to grow strong, like his father.” Aerion told Visenya, even though she didn’t understand a word.
“Maybe she wants to be strong like her father.” She suggested, as there was no way of telling how their children would be in a few months, let alone years.
“No.” Aerion softly whispered, deciding exactly how his children would live. “She will never have to lift a finger, being the prettiest Targaryen to grace the realm. I will make sure she gets everything she ever wants.”
“What of Maegor?” She wondered, “What do you envision for him?”
Aerion’s eyes traveled to the babe in her arms. One of his hands reached out to rub Maegor’s multi-colored hair. “He shall be a great warrior, like his father and grandfather. He shall grow up strong, knowing the histories of his house and learn to be proud for being born into house Targaryen.”
“And me?” She asked, smiling at Aerion and leaning into him slightly. “Where do I land in this grand beautiful life you seem to have all figured out.”
“At my side of course.” Aerion told her, without hesitation. “Soon Vaera will join us. Then everything will be perfect. We will live and die together. Hopefully long after our children produce babes of their own and make us grandparents.”
“You are thinking quite far ahead.” She lightly chuckled at him. “What if Vaera comes out a boy, or if none of our children end up marrying and having kids of their own?”
“That will not happen.” Aerion was sure of it. If it wasn’t going to happen on its own, he would do everything in his power to make sure it does. Nothing would come in between him and his vision.
“Either way. No matter what, it will be perfect. I will make sure of it, just as I know you will as well.” She told him, as that was the only thing she was sure of.
“Yes. I agree.” Aerion said to her, looking deeply into her eyes. “Everything will be as perfect as I am. As you are. As our children are.”
Her eyes traveled from Aerion to Visenya then Maegor. She felt as though her life couldn’t get better. It was hard work, and Aerion didn’t make it any easier. But no matter what, she wouldn’t have it any other way.
She had the family she always dreamed of. A husband she loved and two children born from the care they felt for one another. She couldn’t wait for them to welcome more children into the world, to spend the rest of her life with Aerion. To grow old together and hopefully meet their grandchildren, and with luck, their great grandchildren.
Leaning down toward Visenya, Aerion pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. He then moved to Maegor, kissing him on the crown of his head. Finally, he reached the lips of his wife, the love of his life, pressing him against hers.
“I would not want any other woman to marry or have children with.” Aerion told her, softly. “I love you.”
Next ->
Hello all!! this is the last main chapter!! next one will be the epilogue and will be basically a speed run of all the characters and what happens from this chapter, all the way until Daenerys is born.
I have absolutely loved writing this fic! It truly has such an important place in my heart!! I have the Daeron fic out, if you wish to read more works from me!! As for the Dunk fic, idk if I'm going to write it. I started to and then lost motivation. I still may decide to, so keep an eye out for that.
I also had an idea, but wouldn't want to write it unless people are interested. It is basically a collection of short stories about the children! So it wouldn't focus much on Aerion and MC but will be about different scenes from Visenya, Maegor, and Vaera's life. If you would be interested in that, let me know and I can write some stuff up about that!
If you all want to talk to me or stay updated on what I am doing (or see art for the fic i commisioned) please consider joining my discord server!! I would love to hear your thoughts and discuss with you!!! https://discord.gg/wxen6c27rd
Thank you all so so much for all the love and support throughout the past few weeks. All of you really help motivate me to keep going and posting more! I hope you will all read some of my other stuff and show me the same love there.
Love you all!!
Taglist: (If you wish to be added/removed from this list, comment or dm me)
Summery: She didn't know what to expect when sailing across the sea to marry a man she had never met before. Even though she was going in blind, she had hopes that her marriage would at least be bearable. Little did she know she would be marrying the hotheaded Aerion Bright-flame Targaryen. Marriage with him would be more than difficult, but she was determined to win him over.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
Tags: No Use of Y/N, Not Canon Compliant, Possessive Behavior, Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, finding love in an arranged marriage, Misogyny, Aerion does not know how to love, Fluff, semi-soft Aerion
Chapter 20: In the Moonlight
Warnings: smut, Pregnancy sex, hand job
Word count: 3,127
<- Previous
She waddled down the dark hallway of the Red Keep. It was late into the night, almost everyone had closed their doors and laid comfortably in their beds. But she couldn’t.
The children wanted out of her stomach, stirring all around. It forced her awake, refusing to let her sleep. Any day now, the children would be coming. While she loved being pregnant, after so long, all she wanted was for them to be out of her.
When asking the maester what she could do to quicken the process, he suggested exercise. So there she was, randomly wandering around through the halls like a ghost. It was peaceful. Nice to not have anyone around coddling her or wooing over what was soon to come. It was just her and her babies that would be brought into the world any day now.
The moonlight seeped through the windows, allowing her to see where she stepped. It was a beautiful, clear night with the moon being whole, reflecting the sun’s light like a mirror.
She hummed to herself, and the children as she walked, usually incorporating the words “I love you.” or “Please come out.” into her song.
Someone else’s footsteps echoed down the hall, getting closer to her. With the hundreds of people living in the Red Keep, she didn’t believe that she was the only one awake. But the last person she expected to find roaming the dark halls was her husband.
She had assumed he had gone to bed, sleeping peacefully in his room. But he stopped on the other side of the hall from her, just as she did. They looked at each other, confused as to what the other was doing.
Moving once more, they met with each other in the center, standing close to one another.
“What are you doing up?” She wondered worryingly, wanting to make sure nothing was wrong “It is late.”
“I could ask you the same.” Aerion retorted. “Should you be walking?”
Looking down at her pregnant stomach, she rubbed it lovingly. “I’m trying to make them come out faster. The maester said walking around would help.”
“And you wish for them to come out tonight?” Aerion argued. Standing beside her, he locked his arm with hers. “Why not wait until the morrow, when you are more rested.”
It was cute how he worried about her. To most, his words would have sounded judgmental, mocking her for the choice. But she knew better than anyone that it was out of care and concern.
“They want out now. They do not wish to wait until the morrow.” She informed him. Taking note of the way he held onto her. “I can walk on my own, you know.”
Aerion shook his head in disagreement, not letting go. “I will not have you falling over and hurting our children.”
“They have been in my stomach for nine months, and I have yet to fall.” She chuckled at his words.
“There is always the possibility.” He noted, “And I would rather not take that chance.”
She could tell the underlying reason, he wanted to walk with her, holding onto her as they did so. But to not show his true intentions, he lied. Walking through the halls aimlessly, they enjoyed their last few moments before they became parents, knowing their lives would change forever. Change for the better.
“I am excited to have children.” She admitted truthfully. Smiling warmly at him, she added on, “With you.”
Aerion hummed in response. “I always knew I would have a child. It was only a matter of time until I was forced to marry. I am relieved that you are at least bearable.”
“Bareable?” She asked, shocked that he would use such a word.
“More than bearable.” He corrected himself.
“We are the only ones here in the hall.” She commented, knowing it was not the truth. “You do not need to lie to me.”
“I am not lying.” He retorted, keeping his back straightened to keep his prideful, strong, persona. “You are more than bearable.”
“That is not the compliment you think it is.” She rolled her eyes at him. “It is quite the wide range.”
“Then how would you describe me?” He wondered, not seeing the issue in his wording.
It really took her a moment of thought, trying to think of the words to describe him. “You are arrogant, too prideful for your own good, and the most irritating man I have ever met. Yet, you are also strong, reliable, always protecting me and the children. I cannot help loving you.”
It was the truth. That was how she felt about him. Normally she would hold her tongue on the insults, but since he was being rude, she thought she might as well say what was on her mind.
Aerion didn’t say anything back, stopping in the center of the hallway. His facial expression was unreadable. She wondered if she should have held her tongue, fearing that she messed up. Trying to see past his lilac eyes, she wanted to get into his head and know what he was thinking.
“Would you want to rest?” Aerion asked plainly.
Shocked by his sudden change of subject, she noticed their surroundings. They were right outside of Aerion’s room. She didn’t know how she didn’t see it before, being too caught up in the conversation.
After Aerion asked, she realized how tired her legs had become. Nodding her head in agreement, Aerion led her into the room.
Not a candle was lit, leaving only the blue hugh of the moon to light the room. They walked to the couches together, settling down on the larger one. She sat straight, leaning on the backboard. Aerion sat with one leg resting on the cushion, facing her completely.
Letting out a deep sigh, she relaxed more than she had in the past few weeks. Sitting in silence, Aerion observed her, knowing he wouldn’t get to see her in all of her pregnant glory for much longer.
After looking at her stomach for a moment longer, she turned to Aerion, seeing his softened expression. Even though he denied it, she knew that once the door closes behind them, he became a different person. Still the same hard-headed, arrogant prick, but now he became her prick.
“So.” She proposed, “Have you thought of any other words for me aside from ‘more than bearable’?”
Aerion didn’t respond with words, choosing action over anything else. Moving closer to her, he cupped her cheek in his hand, thumb lightly tracing over her bottom lip. His eyes followed his finger, as it was clear what he wanted but he hesitated for some strange reason.
Trying to get him to cross the line, she leaned her head forward toward his finger, kissing it lightly. She made sure to keep her eye contact with him to tell him she too wanted it.
Still keeping a hold of her face, he leaned into her, pressing his lips to hers. She almost felt as though she wasn’t kissing Aerion. It was soft, lips slowly overlapping. The only sound that could be heard was the soft breathing that emerged from both of their lungs.
It was euphoric, having him take care of her in such a way. There was nothing more that she’d want then for him to have sex with her, filling her with his love.
Leaning her body closer to him, she rested her hand on his upper thigh, fearing that this soft side of him would disappear if she rushed into things. The cotton of his trousers rubbed under her fingertips as she got closer to his clothed cock.
Aerion’s dominant hand kept her face in place, not allowing her to run away from him. His other hand rested on her hip, but began to rise, reaching her chest. Through her dress, he groped her enlarged breasts.
It physically hurt him, going so slow. Aerion wanted nothing more than pin her to the couch, tear off her clothes and ravage her relentlessly. It had been nine excruciating months without her body, without her.
Yet something stopped him, and it was the fear of somehow harming the children through his actions. Aerion couldn’t live with himself if he somehow caused them to be stillborn. So he went slowly, giving his wife soft touches.
She groaned lightly into his mouth. Aerion took the chance to slip his tongue in. Allowing him to do as he wished, she didn’t fight him as the long wet muscle slithered over every part.
Just as her hand reached the large bulge that strained against his pants, a weird stirring sensation settled in her stomach. She groaned out of pure disgust, not liking the feeling.
Aerion jumped back, landing on the other side of the couch. Heaving, he tried to catch his breath. His wide, dilated eyes scanned her body, trying to see where she was hurt. When he couldn’t find it, his eyes traveled back to her face. He was worried, not understanding what he did wrong.
“They want out.” She told him, calming his worry. Resting her arm against the back of the couch, she laid her head down using the arm as a cushion.
Aerion physically relaxed, realizing that it was nothing he did. Suggesting a thing to help, he asked. “Do we need to walk again?”
“Well,” she trailed off, struggling to find the words. “The maestar said there were other ways to help.”
“What did he say?” Aerion wondered.
“He said sex can help induce labor.” She admitted.
“Really?” Aerion asked, skeptical of what she said. “It would not harm the children?”
It was clear that he knew nothing about pregnancy. No one could blame him though. He had never been faced with it so intimately. And, he was the man, not needing to know the finer details. No one ever told him, nor did he care to ask.
“No.” She reassured him, seeing as he was doing everything in his power to prevent such a thing.
Standing from the couch, he wished for her to follow. She struggled to get up, pregnant stomach getting in the way. As she stood, she admitted to him, “You will have to undress me. I cannot dress and undress myself these days.”
Aerion didn’t respond, walking behind her and untying the knot that held her dress to her body. His fingers grazed the back of her neck, tickling her. She couldn’t help but remember their first night together. She stood right where they did before, asking Aerion to undress her.
He didn’t handle her, or her clothes roughly this time, slowly loosening the lace, allowing the dress to pool at her feet. Leaning his body into her back his lips graced her neck. Not kissing, but gliding them against her clean skin.
Stopping at her shoulder, he let his face rest there as. His hands grabbed at her hips, pulling her back onto his clothed, hardened, cock. Groaning softly against her skin, he rocked his hips. Aerion’s mouth opened, surrounding the curve of her shoulder.
The dark bite mark he had made sure she wore constantly had healed over, no longer showing. Aerion wanted to bring it back, sinking his teeth into the supple flesh. She moaned into the air, missing the feeling greatly.
Placing her hands on top of his, she leaned back into him, wishing for more. To her great dismay, Aerion pulled away, admiring his work from a step behind.
As he undressed, he told her, “Get comfortable on the bed.”
She listened to him, walking over to the large, velvety bed. Knowing she needed more support than normal, she moved his pillows covered in silk, placing them against the headboard. When she got on the bed, she witnessed Aerion already undressed. Stroking his cock in his hand as he watched her get settled in.
For months, he tried to satisfy himself with his hand. But it was not the same. Never being able to truly get himself off, he always felt empty afterwards. Having her lay before him naked, he could feel himself filled with more pleasure than those lonely nights.
The moonlight pooled into the room. It would have been hard for her to see most of anything, but her pupils were blown wide allowing every detail of the room to fill her eyes. Even with the grand room, the only thing she wanted to see was her husband.
The moon reflected off his pale skin, making him look as if he was glowing, an god ready to bless her. She could vaguely see his expression, jaw slacked as his eyes were trained on her nude body. Having been deprived of the joys of his wife, he was harder than he had ever been before.
Her head leaned lightly against the dark wooden headboard, the cushiony pillows allowing her to sit up more. Getting in the bed beside her, Aerion connected their lips, knowing he wouldn’t be able to enjoy it easily with her pregnant stomach in the way.
Doing as she wished earlier, her hand reached to his manhood, grasping it tightly. A guttural moan escaped from the back of his throat. As she stroked him slowly, Aerion’s hands traveled back to her breast, massaging it against her chest.
It felt like a completely different sensation as her breasts were tender. Once more, Aerion pulled away from her, positioning himself between her legs. He didn’t need to prep her, as she was seeping at the thought of him.
Lining himself up with her entrance, she quietly pleaded with him. “Please be gentle.”
“You think I would risk harming the children?” Aerion scoffed that she would think such a thing.
Aerion was unpredictable, tending to take her rough and aggressively. “I just need to make su-”
Her words morphed into a moan as he slowly pushed into her, not stopping until he was fully sheathed. Aerion’s hands trailed up her thighs, stroking her skin. Without waiting, he slid out, entering her as softly he did before.
Her moans were more from relief than anything else. This was all she had wanted since she had become pregnant. The intensity of her need had skyrocketed, but she had no way to release herself.
“This pregnancy has left me quite… horney.” She bashfully admitted, enjoying the feeling of his hips rocking into her.
“Has it?” He wondered with an arrogant smirk, proud knowing that he was the cause. “Why have you not come to me before?”
She felt shy under his teasing gaze. Ignoring the fact that during most of her pregnancy, they were not on the best of terms, she stated her other feelings. “I thought you would not want me.”
“Stupid girl.” Was how he responded shaking his head in disagreement.
Her lips upturned into a smirk as her arms reached out to him. Even though he was insulting her in a way, it made her giddy knowing he still wanted her after everything. Finger tips barely grazing against his untouched skin. One of his hands left her thigh, interlocking his fingers with hers, their joined hands held in between them.
“Aerion please.” She begged him, feeling as though he was being too soft, too slow. “I need more.”
He wasn’t one to deny such a request, snapping his hips into her vagina with more vigor. With the momentum closer to she was used to, she felt the knot in the bottom of her stomach begin to tighten.
It was a relief for him to put more weight into his actions. Their pace was still slow and sensual, but had the normal aggressive bite to it.
Everything was perfect. She had everything she could ever wish for: A handsome, fierce husband that would protect her and her children, children that are wanted by both her and him, and a connection that rivals most arranged marriages.
Her back arched lightly as she began to voice her pleasure more. With one hand gripping the sheets, and the other tightening around his, her vagina clamped around his cock, releasing her cum.
The second he felt the liquid rush around him, he stopped his movement, getting worried about what happened, fearing the children were about to come out any minute.
“Did your water break?” He asked seriously, eyebrows knit together.
She burst out in a fit of laughter, walls fluttering around his still hardened cock. Calming down with a few deep breaths, she teased him. “Has it truly been so long that you forgot what it felt like when I finished on you?”
“You are lucky you are pregnant and I cannot punish you.” He warned darkly, not appreciating feeling mocked.
Aerion didn’t wait for her to settle down from her high, chasing his own end. Her toes curled in overstimulation, voice raising into the air. Yet she didn’t stop him, or attempt to, enjoying the burn.
Every time they had sex before, it was for the intention of getting her pregnant, wishing to have a child. This was the first time they enjoyed the feeling of one another without the possibility of her conceiving. It was different, more passionate, more loving. He wasn’t fucking her, he was making love.
Feeling his cock twitch, Aerion rested his hand on her producing stomach. His body was full with warmth, not from the excretion, but from the closeness he felt to her. It filled him to the brim, causing his heart to clench.
With a final thrust, he spilled into her, letting out a loud groan. Aerion’s hips slowed to a stop as he removed his softened cock. Retreating to her side, he embraced her in a kiss once more, wanting her to feel his words.
“I love you.” Aerion said in between kisses.
It was the first time he had ever admitted the words outloud, even though he’d felt them a long time.
She gave a mischievous smirk into the kiss before pulling away for him to see. “Took you long enough to say it.”
“Careful,” Aerion warned, “Or you will be demoted to just bearable.”
She giggled at his words, loving his reactions when she teased him. Leaning in to kiss him once more, she responded with, “I love you too.”
When he pulled away from her they stared into each other's eyes. Instead of settling into the bed, Aerion moved back to her stomach, pressing his lips to it. “Now you need to come out.”
It was more of a demand rather than a request. But it still made her smile, as she raked her fingers through his soft hair. There was nothing more she wanted than to birth the children, bringing them into the world and making Aerion a father.
Next ->
I HAVE POSTED MY DAERON FIC!!!! I am really really proud of the synopsis and first chapter. I have so many good things planned for it. If you are sad that this fic is coming to an end/if you wanna read some other things from me, I HIGHLY suggest checking it out!!!
cites: ao3, quotev, tumblr
name: To Hold the Light in Your Hands
about: When grasping the light in your hands so tightly, it is bound to diminish. Daeron dreamed of the same woman for ten years, saving him from his horrific nightmares. He knew her, but never met her before. No dreams could predict what would happen when he finally finds her in the most unexpected situation.
I would like to note, in my head, that fic takes place after this one, and they're in the same universe, so if you're wondering where aerion is, hes with his wife
if yall didn't know, im actually a lesbian LMAO. writing this smut was actually the worst thing ever. I was trying to be descriptive and getting better at writing them (mainly bc i wanna write a really good smut for my daeron fic) but i was genuinely gagging the whole time. I also have a fear of pregnancy, so writing this was a whole lot of perseverance. Like seeing it and planning it in my head is fine, but using these descriptive words is so EUHHHHH. Just confirming that i am a lesbian.
anyways, I am very sad about this fic coming to an end, but at least i can continue on with writing for the series with daeron (again, you should check it out if you havent already). I appreciate all of the love throughout the month, you all really kept me going, i wouldnt have been able to get all of this done without your support, so thank you!!
love you all!!!
Taglist: (If you wish to be added/removed from this list, comment or dm me)
About: Daeron dreamed of the same woman for ten years, saving him from his horrific nightmares. He knew her, but never met her before. No dreams could predict what would happen when he finally finds her in the most unexpected situation.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
no use of Y/N
Chapter 1: The Bird that Sings
Word count: 5,961
It was raining, but no amount of rain could stop the wrath of a dragon. The massive beast burns hordes of people alive. Their skin tearing away from flesh, revealing the red blood for a split second until it evaporated to black ash.
The sky was dark, covered in clouds full of water ready to weep on the people below. Yet he could see everything around him with as much detail as he could on a clear sunny day. The dragon blew a column of fire into the air, allowing him to see the outline of other dragons that flew above the thin layer of clouds.
Screams filled the air, terror, pain, mournful. And there he stood, in the middle of it all, only being able to witness the tragedy, not being able to do anything. He held his hair with an iron grip, trying to do anything to distract himself.
A bird sings in the distance, drawing his attention away from the terror that was forced upon him.
It was out of place. Peaceful in the muddled mess of horror. He walked through the sludge of wet ash, charred bones and mud. It clung to his feet, molding around them, joining him on the bottom of his shoes.
As he got closer, he began to see a ball of light surrounded by the dark chaos. He knew he had to get to it, had to grasp it in his hands. The closer he got, the thicker the sludge became.
Sinking down to his knees, he struggled to maneuver through it. The little ball of light was so close, he could touch it. Hands began to grab at his clothes, fingers gripping him tight, pulling him under, forcing him away from the safety of the light.
He reached out, trying to grab it before he was pulled under. Warmth radiated off it, filling his whole body. Not a painful, burning sensation, like one of fire. But one of comfort, protection, love. Even though it was just a light, he felt his fingers brush against it.
Almost fully submerged in the mix of body and dirt, he used the rest of his strength to push up, trying to grasp it in his hand. As he gasped, he got the final amount of air he would have been able to, being suffocated by the sludge.
Everything was black as he held his eyes shut tight. But the feeling of warmth began to burn his hand, as he held the light. Opening his eyes, he had been transported into another land and the light surrounded him instead of staying in his hand..
The sludge had evaporated into small dust particles, catching in the bright light of the sun that hung high overhead. Not a cloud in the sky could block its beauty. His feet stood firmly against the vibrant green grass, not sinking down into it.
He recognized where he was.
Standing in the gardens of the Redkeep, the bird sat caged. The bird was not a bird at all, but a woman. Sitting on a wooden bench, looking into the sky, humming her tune.
Somehow, even though he was looking right at her, he could not see any details. She radiated a blinding light, causing him to only see her outline.
He somehow understood everything about her at that moment. Her happiness, her smile he couldn’t even see, the way she loved him, as he loved her. He didn’t need to see her, he didn’t need to talk to her. It was as if they were one, that his body was merely an extension of hers.
The cage was made out of the branches of the old weirwood tree, keeping her trapped in the beauty of the sun. He wanted to free her, let her out so she could flourish. Diminish whatever kept her in. Set fire to the ancient tree, if that was what it took.
Yet, he couldn’t move a muscle. All he could do was stand and watch her from afar, basking in her glory.
“Who are you?” He asked, calling out to her.
Her song stopped as she turned her attention onto him. His body filled with pride, knowing she saw him, not just physically, but emotionally, just as he did her.
The light grew bolder as she smiled. He could feel it. She was ready to happily tell him anything he wished to know. He focused, paying attention, ready to receive the name of the woman he wished to know so deeply.
‧₊ ♪˚⊹
Daeron woke up with a gasp, as if he had stopped breathing. The silk sheets of the whore house clung to his sweat slicked skin. He breathed heavily as he tried to get a grasp on reality.
It was a dream he had often since he was ten. They all started differently, with the normal horrific, unrecognizable prophecy. Then the sound of a bird humming would draw his attention, rescuing him. And then he would see her, whoever she was.
Daeron felt safe, warm, like that was where he was meant to me, basking in her light. He would ask her a question. It always changed, in hopes that she would be able to answer if he just asked a different one.
Every single time, he woke up before the words came out of her mouth, leaving him empty, reminding him of the awful reality he lived. That he would walk past the garden and she would not be there.
A warm hand caressed his thigh. It was not the same warmth he felt in his dreams. Not the same, loving light. No, it was one of a poor woman who had to sell her body for money, hoping that he would cave in and go again.
“My prince.” The tired woman cooed. “Is everything alright?”
Daeron was quick to move away from her. He didn’t want the warmth of some whore, he wanted his songbird, his light. The tightness in his chest began to build as the weight of living pressed down on him.
Untangling himself from the thin sheets, he made his way over to the pitcher of wine, wanting to forget, hoping to pass out drunk so he could see her again. Filling the empty cup to the brim, he chugged it in one gulp, knowing that if he took it in quickly, it would hit faster.
The bitter taste washed over his tongue. It wasn’t the quality wine, imported from Dorne, that the palace served. But it was something. Something that would get him drunk. Something that would make him forget.
The woman slid off the bed, making her way over to Daeron. Her slender arms wrapped around his waist, hands meeting each other in his front. Linking her fingers together, she trapped him, not letting him leave.
If he was drunk enough, and he closed his eyes and pretended that he felt a fraction of warmth that he did in his dreams. Something was better than nothing. Every night he went out searching, trying to find the person who would fill his void.
But they never did: Only wedginging it farther open.
“You may stay longer.” She whispered sweetly to him. The same way she does to every man who walks through the doors of the whorehouse. “For another piece of silver.”
“No.” He shrugged the woman off, heading to gather his clothes. “My father will be expecting me.”
“Come back, will you?” She laid on the bed enticingly, wishing to coax the prince back to her.
“I can’t.” He responded sharply, slipping his boots onto his feet. “I will be traveling for the next couple of months.”
“Where to?” She wondered, trying to capture him in conversation.
Daeron did not respond, leaving through the curtain that gave the smallest sliver of privacy in the room. He needed more wine before leaving, needing to be more drunk before facing his father. But he didn’t have the time. He was already late, and coming home drunk would not bode well for him.
The bright light of the sun hit his eyes upon entering the streets. It was blinding. Not in the way one would want to sit there and enjoy it, but where one would want to run and find the shade.
Stumbling through the streets of Kings Landing, he made his way back home. Even though it was still so early, people filled the street, making preparations for the day. As he passed a few stalls, he heard the sound of singing.
It was as if he had been placed into a trance, following the sound, needing to know who released the beautiful noise. Pushing through some people, he found a woman in an alleyway, using a well to wash her clothes.
The second he was close enough to hear her clearly, and see her, he knew. Knew that she was not the one. It had been the same for ten years. The second he heard a beautiful voice singing, he would rush to it, hoping to find the one he looked for. Every time, he was only filled with disappointment.
The woman stopped singing, noticing that she had an audience. Not appreciating being spied on, she angrily spat out, “May I help you?”
“No.” Daeron quickly responded, snapping out of his haze. “Sorry.”
‧₊ ♪˚⊹
When he arrived home, he had hoped to be able to slip back into his room without anyone noticing. His hopes died the moment he saw his father standing on the steps of the castle. It was clear that he was caught with how his father held a deep scowl.
“Where have you been?” His father demanded to know. “We were supposed to leave an hour ago.”
“I got caught up with things.” Daeron gave a vague excuse, walking past his father to head into the safety of the castle.
“Like your whores?” Maekar seethed, following his son. “Where are you going now?”
“I haven’t finished packing.” Daeron explained.
“I had the help pack for you.” Maekar explained. “We must leave now if we are to make it to the inn by nightfall.”
Daeron ignored his fathers words as he continued to walk farther into the castle. “Let me make sure that they got everything.”
“No.” Maekar shouted, causing Daeron to stop. “You lost the privilege of packing your own items when you left late last night without making sure everything was prepared. We are leaving now.”
Even as a grown man, Daeron couldn’t find it in him to defy his father, even when he really wanted to. “May I at least get another cup of wine before we leave?”
“Gods.” Maekar cursed to himself. He didn’t explain himself further, grabbing Daeron by the back of the neck, forcing his son toward the front door.
‧₊ ♪˚⊹
The trip was long and grueling. Forty-eight tiring days stuck with his father and a few kingsguard. Daeron never wanted to go on the trip, rathering to stay in the comfort of his home where he had unrestricted access to wine and whores.
Maekar had other plans. He received a letter from an old friend. A small lord that fought alongside the princes in the Blackfyre rebellion. Lord Flint of Flint’s Fingers was a ruthless fighter, even saving Prince Maekar’s life on a few occasions.
That is why when Maekar received a wedding invitation for Lord Flint’s son and heir, Ruben, he knew he couldn’t refuse. Maekar was excited to see an old friend, getting away from the busy chaos of the royal family.
Forcing his eldest son to go with him, Maekar thought the open air would be good for Daeron’s reclusive tendencies. As Lord Flint was a good friend, he had hoped that Daeron and Ruben got along, continuing the friendship onto another generation.
Yet the entire time they traveled together, Maekar’s hopes had diminished. Inn to inn, castle to castle, Daeron drowned himself in his cups, making it abundantly clear that he wasn’t going to change just because he got out into the open.
At the tail end of their journey, Maekar cut Daeron off, wanting him to be sober upon arriving. He was awful, complaining and groaning, begging his father to reconsider. As Flint’s Fingers came into view Maekar pulled his horse back, allowing him to ride right beside Daeron
“I better not hear you complain in front of the other Lords and Ladies that are in attendance.” Maekar darkly warned.
“I shall be on my best behavior.” Daeron responded, unconvincingly. “But you know, father, I would be more bearable if you allowed me at least one cup.”
Maekar took a deep breath, debating if allowing it would be a decision he would regret. Warningly, Maekar responded with. “One.”
Daeron relaxed a bit, knowing that he would feel the sweet release of wine soon enough.
Arriving in front of the castle, Lord Flint and his son stood at the entrance, receiving their most esteemed guests. Maekar’s mood shifted to one of a relaxed state, happy to see his old friend.
“My Princes, I welcome you once more to my home.” Lord Flint smiled widely.
“You know you do not need to call me that Aden.” Maekar jokingly scolded, embracing the man in a hug.
The two eldest sons awkwardly stood beside their fathers, waiting for a proper introduction to be had. Going back to him, Lord Flint placed his strong hand on the shoulder of Ruben.
“This is my boy, Ruben.” It was clear Lord Flint was proud of his sons, something Daeron knew his father would never feel toward him.
Maekar grabbed Daeron’s upper arm, dragging him closer into the conversation. “This is my eldest, Daeron.”
Ruben leaned forward, holding his hand out as a form of diplomacy. Knowing his father would be disappointed if he didn’t, Daeron shook the outstretched hand. He wanted it to be over as quickly as it started, trying to pull away, yet Ruben held him there for a moment longer than necessary.
Ruben’s grip was strong, clearly one of an experienced fighter, just as his father. He was tall with broad shoulders and thick black hair that cascaded over them. He wore mostly grey fabric: Thick and heavy to block the cold northern breeze. Clearly nearing his thirties, he was no young bachelor. But he seemed kind enough, someone that you could tell would be a good lord and husband.
“My girls and my Lady-wife are busy with preparations. They have been running around, wanting everything to be perfect for their brother.” Lord Flint explained the absence of his other family members. “But they will all join us for dinner. Along with Ruben’s betrothed and her family.”
“It will be nice to see Lena again.” Maekar commented, not remembering the last time he had seen her. “I believe the last time I saw her, she was pregnant with your youngest.”
“Ah yes.” Lord Flint responded, remembering the time. “She has grown into quite the lovely young lady. Though she is quite rambunctious.”
Ruben nodded at his fathers words, as it was the perfect way to describe her. Cutting his father off from conversing anymore, he offered. “If you follow us, we can show you to your bed chambers and allow you to get settled in.”
“I am sure you are tired after your long journey.” Lord Flint added, catching on to what Ruben was implying.
The two princes followed as the Lord pointed out different places, boasting about what all had changed since Maekar last visited. To Daeron’s dismay, his room was placed right beside his father’s, knowing that his father could spy on him with ease.
Daeron entered his temporary room. It was small and boring, feeling as though everything was in monochrome. The entire castle was dull, making him feel more depressed than he already was.
He couldn’t stand it, especially as he found the pitcher that would normally be filled to the bring with wine, empty. Not a single drop graced the coper, like it had never held it before in the first place.
Shaking from the withdrawals, he needed to go find more. It was awful to be sober, especially since his body had gotten so used to the alcohol. He couldn’t live without it, feeling as though he was dying.
Needing to find some form of release, he escaped the small confines of his room, praying not to be caught.
It was as if Maekar was standing in the hall, just waiting for Daeron to try and mess up. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Daeron’s body cringed. Wishing to run off, to escape his father, and the castle to find the closest tavern and drink his worries away. Yet he knew better, in this state he never would be able to outrun his father.
“You may sink into your cups as much as you want at home. But I will not have you doing it here.” Maekar stomped over to Daeron, threateningly. “Do not embarrass me boy.”
“I am merely off to explore the castle.” Daeron lied
Maekar did not believe him for a second. “I will tell the help that you are not to have a single drop if you do not tread carefully.”
Daeron knew that no matter what he did, he would be an embarrassment to his father. He was a royal fuck up, and it would never change. So why try? It was better to continue on doing what pleased him, what brought him the smallest amount of joy in his life, then being stuck with the awful reality.
“Why did you bring me and not Aegon?” He wondered, truly not understanding why out of all of his siblings, he was plagued with this trip.
“Lord Flint has many fine young girls, some close to you in age.” Maekar finally stated his intentions for his eldest son.
“You brought me here to marry me off?” Daeron shouted, finding the idea of it absurd.
“I brought you here in hopes of you finding a suitable woman of your liking.” Maekar clarified.
Daeron’s whoring around was widely known throughout the Seven Kingdoms. It embarrassed Maekar, especially as he had tried his hardest to raise his children right. The Flints were a respectable house, he would love to join their two families in marriage.
Daeron did not want that. He did not want to marry some random noblegirl his father deemed worthy. Maybe it was childish, but he hoped to one day find the bird locked in a cage. Hoping to free her and fly far away from all of his issues, all of his fathers expectations. He was truly willing to give up everything he had known, just to have her by his side.
“I am not expecting you to leave here with a betrothal.” Maekar informed, knowing that if Daeron believed that is what he wanted, he would make it his mission to do the complete opposite. “I merely want you to keep an open mind.”
“May I leave now?” Daeron asked, sick and tired of hearing the expectations that he knew he could never reach.
All Maekar could do was hope that Daeron listened to his words. With a sigh he stepped aside, letting his son continue on.
Walking away from his father, he looked for any form of alcohol, preferably wine, but he would have ale if there was nothing else. He felt like a ghost haunting the halls, trying to find the kitchen, or at least a maid that could fetch some for him.
It was strange how empty the castle was, almost as if the Flints were the only ones to live in the large space. When he saw someone for the first time in a while, the first thing he noticed was the pitcher in her hand, pouring a deep red liquid in her cup.
Past the window was a small balcony, one that looked off the cliffside, giving the view of a long spanning ocean. A woman sat on a wooden chair, filling a silver glass with wine. Her attention was focused on the sun that was slowly lowering into the water.
Daeron thanked the Gods for the woman before him, knowing that she had become his saving grace. Quickly walking over to the door that led out to the balcony, his heart clenched at mere thought of relief.
Before he could turn the knob, Daeron froze in place.
Wind blew through the wide cracks in the window, giving a windy whistle. Even though it was so far away, he could hear the soft sound of the ocean water colliding with the cliffs. But the sound that echoed in his ears was the soft humming of music.
It was the same voice, the same beautiful song that had saved him so many times.
Backing away from the door, he watched her through the window. It was strange, for years he tried to see past the blinding light, see the woman that he knew he belonged to, but he never prevailed. Now, seeing her only a wall away from him, it was like he had seen her all along. Every vision, every dream where her face, body and clothes were blurred out had been filled, completed with the image of her.
Her tune never left as she enjoyed it only for herself. He always believed that she would be a performer, sharing her beautiful voice with everyone. He imagined having to run away to Essos with her, as that would be the only place they could truly be together.
To his great relief, she was a woman of high birth, clearly shown by the clothes she wore. They were quite shabby in comparison to the grand expensive clothing found among the court. But the expensive color it was dyed, and the gold that hung off proved that she was someone with at least some standing.
Daeron could marry her. Live happily with her out in the open.
She leaned back in the chair, resting comfortably as she gazed upon the horizon. He almost didn’t want to disturb her, letting her enjoy her evening in peace. But he couldn’t. After years of searching for her, he couldn’t walk away.
Opening the door, he walked onto the balcony. Her head turned to him after hearing the noise. He froze once more, gazing on her face. It was perfect in every way. He could live happily waking up next to her, getting to see her face first thing every morning.
Daeron wanted nothing more than to stride over to her and press their faces together, feeling her lips on his. He cannot. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away, but how could he convey that she was the woman that saved him from the darkness. The woman who had his heart, soul, and body, when they hadn’t even spoken a word to one another.
“Would you like to join me?” She wondered, not knowing why this strange man walked out and looked at her without a word.
His hands felt clammy as the words got stuck in his throat, almost suffocating him. He wished to tell her everything: How beautiful she was, how angelic she sounded, how badly he wanted her.
All he could get out was a very strained “Yes.”
Walking to the table with stiff movements, it was almost as if he were dressed head to toe in armor. The table sat between them. Only the pitcher of wine and her cup sat on it. It was almost impossible to look away from her, but his eyes traveled down to wine.
That sweet nectar that he craved. He felt his mouth go dry, knowing that he would be able to conversate with her easier if he just had a few sips. Following his eyes, she could tell what he wanted.
It may have been improper for her, being a lady, but she slid the cup over to him, allowing him to share the contents. Like a man stranded in the desert, he gulped down the contents quickly.
Heaving a large sigh, he finally felt calmer, relaxing into his chair just as she had. Pulling the cup back over to herself, she filled it once more, taking a small sip. They sat in silence together. Her eyes were trained on the horizon. While he attempted to watch the sunset, he was stealing glances of her.
It felt unreal, like another beautiful dream, to have her sitting before him. Part of him expected to wake up any moment, body entangled with another, feeling all of the emptiness and despair that the dream wasn’t real.
But it was real, she was real. He could reach across the table and touch her, caress her, kiss her, make love to her. Knowing that would end horribly if he did it to her now, he refrained himself. Truly not knowing what to say to her, he kept quiet, fearful she would run if he made the wrong move.
“What brings you here?” She wondered, keeping her eyes forward.
“The wedding.” He plainly explained.
“I guessed that, as I have never seen you around before. Almost everyone here is for the wedding.” She smiled, turning to him for a quick moment. “I mean, what are you doing out here, with me?”
“Same thing as you.” He lied, not wanting to tell her the real reason, as she would be scared away. “Watching the sunset.”
She hummed in response, not really believing him. If he just wished to watch the sunset, he could have picked any other place to view it, but he chose that balcony, that chair. Daeron could tell there was speculation in her, as he had never been a great liar.
“And the wine.” He said truthfully.
“You can have more.” She offered him. “I do not mind.”
Daeron Targaryen wasn’t one to deny such an offer. She was like a goddess, blessing the world with water after a long drought. Grabbing the cup to take another sip, he teased her, “Do you normally share your drink with strange men?”
“I do not.” Fully turning away from the sunset, she found their conversation more interesting. “But there is something different about you.”
His heart leaped to his throat hearing those words, almost choking on the wine. He could feel their connection, which was abundantly clear. But having the confirmation that she too felt it, almost killed him.
“Is there?” He asked, putting the cup between them. Part of him wished that she too had dreams of him, ones where he was able to give her the same comfort she had. “What is it?”
“I don’t know.” She simply shrugged, grabbing at the chalice to take another sip before placing it back between them.
“That tune you were humming earlier.” Now that he could ask all the questions he had come up with over the years, he was going to get the answers. “What was it?”
“You heard that?” The way she caved in, making herself smaller showed the clear embarrassment. “I have no idea, I just make up random songs as I go. Honestly, I already forgot it”
Daeron was stunned by her answer. He had heard that song hundreds of times, so many times that he had it memorized from beginning to end. Yet it was something so miniscule to her, something that left her mind the second it left her mouth. It surprised him when it was his everything. His lifeline, his saving grace, the thing he’d sing to himself when he couldn’t sleep.
“It sounded very nice.” He complimented her.
“Thank you.” She said with a small smile, grabbing at the cup again. “I’m not the best singer, but I love to do it anyways.”
“I think you’re beautiful.” Speaking the words on his mind, when he didn’t mean to. He was quick to try and recover. “I mean you sounded beautiful.”
She tried to hide her chuckle behind the cup, but it only caused it to echo louder in his ears. He was intriguing, an unknown land she wanted to explore. There was something so charming about him. Maybe it was the way he tried to be smooth, only to fumble his own words. Or the way he looked at her as she was the only other person alive.
“Do you have a name?” She was curious to know more about the mystery man.
There was a part of him that didn’t want to tell her, to lie and hope she never found out, knowing how most people changed around royalty. But she would find out eventually. Instead of declaring himself as a Targaryen, he simply responded with:
“Daeron.”
To his dismay, she recognized him from first name alone. It was a curse that the Targaryens had reused, well known names. Straightening herself in her chair, her whole demeanor shifted.
“My prince! I apologize for not recognizing you.” Even her way of speech had changed.
Daeron frowned at her, watching her quickly put the wall between them. That was the last thing he wanted from her, to feel as though she had to be someone else for him.
He hated that she called him prince instead of his name, but the simple addition of ‘my’ made his heart flutter. Even though everyone else calls him the same, it was different coming from her lips.
“Pleas don’t.” He cringed, “You don’t have to pretend around me.”
She tried to relax her bones, going back to the way she was before, but it was still stiff, still lady-like. “That is kind of hard now knowing I’m sitting with a prince of the realm.”
“I am just a man.” It was true, especially when it came to her. He didn’t want to be her prince, he just wanted to be hers. Her husband, her lover, her soulmate. As they were on the topic he had to know, “What is your name?”
As Dearon wanted to be just a man, she wished to be just a woman, only sharing her first name with him. The second it rolled off her tongue, he played it on loop in his mind, chanting it like a prayer.
“What a beautiful name.” He softly told her.
She responded with a soft smile, turning her attention back to the sun that was almost gone. Their conversation died down for a few minutes, only for it to return once more.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it.” She commented into the open air. “I could live here forever.”
The last thing he would describe the view as was beautiful. Everything was so dull, so grey. The only beautiful thing in his view was her. “If you think this is beautiful. You have clearly never seen the view of the ocean from the Red Keep.”
“I have never been to King’s Landing before.” She admitted. “I would like to go one day.”
He wished to tell her that she would be more than welcome to return home with him, but it would have been too much of a jump. Instead he simply told her, “I would be honored to host you.”
“That is very kind of you.” She replied with a nod. “I may take you up on that one day”
Daeron grabs the drink once more, as he felt himself slipping. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself in front of her, and he found that the bitter taste of alcohol was grounding him in the conversation.
Being a bit too enthusiastic about downing the red liquid, some dripped out the side of the cup, spilling down his chin and onto his clothes. Looking down at the mess he made, he cussed to himself. “Shit.”
“Here.” She was quick to react, leaning across the table toward him.
With her hand outreached, she used her thumb to wipe the wine off of his chin. Her fingers were soft as her touch was feather light. He felt her nail fan over the bottom of his lip. His jaw instinctively slacked, relaxing from such a small touch.
He was filled with the same feeling of warmth he craved. But instead of it being one he could only remember in a dream, it was real, reaching every crevasse of his being. She felt it too, he could tell.
Not backing away completely, she stayed leaning over the table, surveying the details of his face. Their eyes locked, refusing to look anywhere else. He opened himself up to her, allowing her to see whatever she wished through his eyes.
“Your father, is he here?” Daeron asked, alcohol emboldening him to finally say what he wanted. “I must ask him for your hand in marriage.”
Part of him prayed for her to be one of the Flint girls. He would gladly fulfill his father’s wish of marrying one of them if it were her. He also knew that Lord Flint would have no complaint giving her to him.
Life wasn’t that nice to Daeron Targaryen.
Instead of answering, she burst into a fit of laughter.
Her laugh was majestic, music to his ears, even though she was mocking him. He would be willing to give up his position as prince, just to become her jester if it meant her laugh would grace his ears more often.
After calming down, she smiled wildly at him, her light radiating brighter than the sun at noon. “I fear he will not accept your offer.”
“Why is that?” He asked, surprised by the response. “I am a prince. Any honorable man would die to give me their daughter’s hand in marriage.”
She huffed, almost hesitant to tell him the news. Her warm smile morphed into something sadder.
“I am already betrothed.” She explained. “To Lord Flint’s son.”
It clicked in his head. The reason why he was here. “This is your wedding?”
The small nod she gave him broke his heart. Ruben Flint didn’t deserve her. She was too pretty. Too young, being around Daeron’s age, and Ruben being about ten years older. Her radiant beauty was something that should be preserved, shared, paraded all around the seven kingdoms, not locked in this small town of Flint’s Fingers.
An older woman called out her name from the doorway. The tone of the woman’s voice was as stern as her face, glaring at the two. Whoever the woman was wasn’t happy with the situation.
“I am afraid so.” Getting up from her seat, she tried to comfort him in a way. “You are a prince. I believe you can find someone that pleases you.”
He didn't want someone that simply ‘pleased’ him. He wanted the person that filled him, made him whole. The person that was the light in the darkness of his mind. The person that filled him to the brim with love and warmth.
That was her.
And she was betrothed to another.
Walking over to the older woman, she had that same strict posture as before, presenting herself properly.
“What do you think you are doing?” The woman scolded quietly so he wouldn’t hear, but he did. “Being alone with the prince, sharing a glass with him, and giggling like a little girl?”
She became smaller under her mother’s gaze, feeling the pressure. “We were just talking.”
“You are to be married in two weeks' time.” Her mother continued to press. “You are lucky that I was the one who found you and not one of Lord Flint’s help”
The woman grabbed her daughter, pulling her inside the building. Daeron didn’t realize how dark it had gotten, how cold it was, until she left with her bright warmth. The hole inside of him became abundantly apparent as his other half walked away from him.
Next ->
-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-
Hello all!! I am really excited to share this story with you!! I have really enjoyed writing this chapter and have already started the next one! I am in the heat of midterms, and have an aerion fic to finish, so i do not know what I will get the next one out.
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When grasping the light in your hands so tightly, it is bound to diminish.
About: Daeron dreamed of the same woman for ten years, saving him from his horrific nightmares. He knew her, but never met her before. No dreams could predict what would happen when he finally finds her in the most unexpected situation.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-
Category: Daeron Targaryen x Female Reader || 18+ themes
Tags: No Use of Y/N, Not Canon Compliant, Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, soulmates, fluff, yearning, alcoholism, cannon depictions of violence, miscommunication, daeron is depressed
Summery: She didn't know what to expect when sailing across the sea to marry a man she had never met before. Even though she was going in blind, she had hopes that her marriage would at least be bearable. Little did she know she would be marrying the hotheaded Aerion Bright-flame Targaryen. Marriage with him would be more than difficult, but she was determined to win him over.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
Tags: No Use of Y/N, Not Canon Compliant, Possessive Behavior, Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, finding love in an arranged marriage, Misogyny, Aerion does not know how to love, Fluff, semi-soft Aerion
Chapter 19: Decisions Decisions
Warnings: talk of death
Word count: 2,654
<- Previous
With only a month left until the children arrived, preparations started. A room close to her bedchambers had been picked out. All objects it previously had held were removed, as every corner of it has been scrubbed.
The royal artisan worked for many hours throughout the months making all of the furniture to fill the room. Having to work especially hard, making sure to double everything last minute.
They were truly beautiful pieces, as small dragons had been carved into the oak wood, by Aerion’s request of course. All fabric was embroidered black or red velvet, as Aerion believed his children would be exactly like him.
Most of the furniture had the sole purpose of helping her, or the septas raise the children for the first few years of life. Hopefully when the children grew, they would be able to make their own decisions about what they wanted.
The issue had become the placement of said furniture.
She didn’t know why, but everyone believed they should have a say in how the room would be arranged. Maekar, Kiera, and of course Aerion were in the room with her. She sat in the corner in a settee that was brought from her room.
The warm air blew in through the window, as summer began to settle on Kings Landing. She had a fan to brush cooler wind on her to keep her from overheading. Everything about it irritated her. How Maekar would suggest one location, then Aerion would disagree. Kiera then would suggest something else and both men would give a strong no, and then the cycle continued.
She tried giving input, but no one heard her as they all argued with each other across the room. The only thing she could do is sit and watch the show. The show wasn’t even good, just annoying. The kind of story where no one is happy in the end.
“The beds should go here.” Kiera suggested. “It gets the best sunlight.”
The help that held onto the furniture began to push the two small beds to the place Kiera pointed out.
“I think-” She tried to butt in, to get their attention and voice her opinion. But of course, they didn’t hear her, just continued on with their arguing.
“Why would the beds need sunlight?” Aerion fought back. “They would only be used at night.”
“I agree.” Maekar joined in, sayin what was on his mind. “I think the tables should go there. So the children have good light to play in.”
The help holding the beds moved them, letting the others holding the tables to place them down in the spot.
“No.” Aerion added. “The couches should go there so they can get sunlight as they rest or read.”
“Well-” She started talking, only to be spoken over once more.
“I was meaning, it would be good here, as they could be woken up easier with the sun on their face in the morrow.” Kiera explained her reasoning.
“Why are you even here?” Aerion began to question defensively. “You are our cousin. You should not have the say in our children’s room.”
“I am your wife’s best friend, mind you. I came here to help lessen the stress on her.” Kiera motioned over to her in the process, she began to try and speak up, hoping someone would see, but they did not. Kiera was offended by Aerion’s words, getting worked up. “And your future queen. How dare you speak to me in such a way.”
“We should all-” She tried to calm them from the corner.
“Aerion, find your respect.” Maekar scolded him, as Kiera was right, she has a higher standing than all of them.
Rage started to boil over her. She wished to have gotten up and stomped over to them, telling them all off for arguing like children on such miniscule things. Such as the arrangement of the bedroom for babies that weren’t even born with.
If she could, she would. But she had been too tired as of late, barely being able to move around for long. She could not find the energy to stand on her two feet and walk over to them. Left with no other choice, she did something she never does.
“Shut up!” She yelled at the top of her lungs, to get their attention.
She was not one to scream, let alone use crude words such as those.
Everyone was shocked to hear it, quieting down to look at her. Luckily for her, with being pregnant, she was able to blame her poor attitude on pregnancy hormones and no one would be offended.
“Everyone out.” she commanded strongly. They were still in shock, not moving a muscle. “Out!”
After yelling again, they moved their feet. The help placed the objects where they stood, leaving alongside the royals. Aerion was the only one who didn’t move, knowing that her commands were not for him.
Having the peace and quiet, without fighting, or the noise of furniture hitting the ground, she was able to rest. Laying her head back, she took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down.
As the door closed behind the last person, Aerion walked over to her, needing to know what was wrong. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t need to. Sitting beside where her bare feet laid, he waited for her to speak.
“I know they just want to help, but they are getting on my nerves.” She huffed to her husband, venting her frustration.
“I agree.” Aerion nodded, as he didn’t appreciate other people disagreeing with the vision for his kids.
“I understand that your father wants to help because it is his first grandchild. And Kiera is just trying to be here for me, as she knows how hard the pregnancy has been.” She was trying to seem reasonable in her feelings. “But Gods, are we not the parents? I believe my say matters more than anyone else. And I've been ignored all day in this corner.”
“Truly.” Areion agreed. “They can find other ways to help.
After getting everything out, she took a long breath finally being able to calm down. Aerion said nothing, sitting beside her as he too enjoyed the quiet after spending the whole day arguing.
“I wanted to talk to you.” She brought up another topic that had been on her mind for a few weeks. “I have been thinking a lot.”
Her serious tone displeased him, as he sternly asked, “About what?”
“I was thinking of Aegon. How he had run away with that knight.” She truthly admitted. Aerion was not happy with the mention of his brother coming from her mouth. “And it reminded me of that night you found him in your bed.”
The poor young boy had been on her mind for a while. With children of her own on the way, she began to run through many different possibilities of things. Worrying that her children would be driven to running away as well. Especially, fearing the cause of it to be their own father.
“I thought we were over that.” His voice turned cold, as he clearly did not want to discuss the topic any further.
“We are.” Her words betrayed what she felt. She could never truly forgive him for the act, but she had to push it aside for the sake of their relationship. Continuing on she said, “But now that the children are about to be here, I just need to make sure-”
“I told you I would not do it again.” Aerion cut her off and rolled his eyes at her. His voice was stern, making it hard for her to believe his words were sincere.
Even if she didn’t believe him. Thankfully Aegon wasn't here to prove it otherwise. While she was worried for her little brother-in-law, she also thought it was best for him to be away from the chaos of the royal family.
“I know. But for my peace of mind. For my sanity. We need to discuss it.” She continued to press on, not wanting him to squash the conversation. “I will not have our children raised with an iron fist. I want them raised with love and the occasional sternness. Not fear.”
“I have no intention to let any harm come to our children.” Aerion added on, feeling slightly offended she thought he would allow such a thing to occur.
“But you tend to do many things without intention.” She told him, as it was the truth. “I guess what I am saying is. We punish our children together. If they do something that requires reprimanding, you come to me, and I will come to you. So we will truly be raising them together.”
Aerion debated for a moment, as if he did not agree with her words. It made her worry greatly, bringing back the fear of him abandoning her. Standing to his feet, he leaned over to her, pressing his lips softly on her forehead, before leaning down farther, to press another to her grand stomach.
“We will do this together.” He told her, standing beside her.
“Good.” She took a deep breath that she hadn't realized she was holding the whole conversation. It was as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulder. Moving on, she said, “Now, shall we, and we alone, decide the set up of this room?”
“Yes.” Aerion chuckled, wanting to get it over with as much as she did.
With the two of them deciding the whereabouts of the furniture, they were able to complete the new room in no time. It was perfect, neither of them would change a thing about it. Now all it was missing was the two young children that would grow up in it together.
Quiet whispers were spoken into the night. Ones that were barely audible to her sleeping mind. Believing it was her tired imagination, she ignored them, falling in and out of sleep as they were perceived. The sentences were broken, yet all ran together. To her, they made no sense.
“You cannot.”
“Your mother.”
“You must not.”
“I cannot.”
“I would never forgive you”
Soft touches stirred her from her sleep. She believed that she was rubbing her stomach unknowingly, causing it to wake herself up. When she felt the silk of the bedsheets under the fingertips, her eyes shot open, realizing that she was not the one touching her stomach, another was.
Sitting up straight, she saw Aerion laying beside her in the bed. His hand had slipped off her stomach landing on her upper thigh. His eyes were wide, like she was the one that scared him. Her heartbeat was strong, pulsing in her throat.
“By the seven Aerion!” She angrily whispered at him. “I almost had a heart attack. What are you doing here?”
Aerion didn’t respond, staying silent as he looked up at her. He didn’t bother moving as his attention trailed back down to her stomach. Giving a face she had never seen before, he scooted closer to her.
“I saw you.” Aerion admitted into the quiet air.
She was confused as to what he was saying. “You saw me?”
“In a dream.” He clarified with a huff. “Another premonition.”
“What happened?” Her hand traveled to his soft silver hair, running her fingers through it. She didn’t know if she was trying to calm him or herself. As whatever he saw, it was horrible enough for him to come running to her bed.
“You were giving birth.” He explained. “Blood everywhere.”
“Women tend to bleed when they give birth.” She chuckled, thinking he was worrying over nothing. “We are bringing life into the world.”
“No.” Aerion replied with the smallest quiver in his voice. “This was different.”
“How?” She wondered, not really understanding what he was getting at. She wanted to comfort him, make him feel better, but she could not do that if she didn’t know what exactly was wrong.
“You were screaming.” He stated plainly, pausing for a moment.
“That is normal.” She explained, as everything he was describing was the natural way of birth.
“Let me continue.” He was quick to cut her off. “It sounded like a deer being eaten alive by a wolf.”
The noise still echoed between his ears, as if he had really heard them, as if they were real. Because to him, they were, or at least will be. He didn’t know how he would be able to live raising the child that killed her.
“Everyone was rushing around, trying to fix things. Trying to fix you like you had broken apart.” He remembered the chaos, the people running all around him as he stood there, watching her breaths weaken. “Then the doctor asked me who to save.”
“What did you pick?” She asked out of pure curiosity.
“You of course.” Aerion’s response was sharp, as if he was offended that she didn’t already know the answer. “We can always have more children.”
“You could always get a new wife.” She pointed out, as it was a fact, even though she would not wish that.
“Do not even play with that idea.” He warned her darkly.
“I apologize, go on.” She sincerely said, settling back down to lay beside him. Their eyes locked and deep behind his eyes, she saw his pain.
“You were dying.” His words were barely a whisper, as if speaking them would make it real. “And there was nothing I could do about it.”
“It was just a dream.” She calmly told him. Placing her hand on his thin cheek, she rubbed her thumb back and forth on his smooth skin.
“No it was not.” Aerion was so sure, as it felt so real. It couldn’t have been anything else. “It was another premonition.”
“That makes no sense.” She added on, trying to make him see reason. “In your other one, you saw me with our three young children?”
“I do not know if this was before or after that.” There was no confirmation of if it was the birth of their twins, their daughter, or possibly another.
“Did I die?” She questioned, as the response would help her console him.
“I do not know.” He answered truthfully. He wished he knew, but at the same time, maybe it was better if he didn’t. “I awoke before I got that answer.”
“I think it was a nightmare.” She continued on with her point. “Just nerves because the babies are about to arrive.”
“I know it was not.” He tried telling her again, angered that she wasn’t getting it. “It was real as you are right now.”
Removing her hand from his face, she found his palm that laid against the bed. Sliding his hand over her heart. She held it there, pressing it deep against her skin, letting him feel that she was there, that she was alive.
“I am okay.” She whispered. “And I will be okay.”
Aerion accepted the fact that she may never truly understand the dream that will now plague him. Taking a deep breath, he declared. “We are not having any more children after Vaera.”
She didn’t want that. She wanted more children with Aerion. But it was clear that this wasn’t the moment to argue that. To make him calmer, she nodded her head, agreeing with an, “Okay”
Aerion seemed to physically relax after that, letting his hand trail down her body to lay on her stomach, feeling his children. She noticed how he didn’t move, didn’t bother leaving and returning to his bed champers.
“Do you wish to spend the night here?” She asked him, knowing what he wanted.
“I am staying.” He declared, making known that her opinion wouldn’t change it. “I do not need your permission to do so.”
She chuckled softly at him, not wishing to have it any other way.
Next ->
(added note: DW YALL IT IS STILL A HAPPY ENDING!!!)
Had to push this one out before i locked in fr fr. i have already begun to write the other two fics. I need beta readers who are interested so if you want a sneak peek of that, join my discord (https://discord.gg/wxen6c27rd) and let me know!!
i do hope to publish the first chapter of the daeron fic and the whole dunk fic before the end of this one, so be on the look out for that!
As always, thank you so much for all the love and support it means SO much to me <3
love you all!!
Taglist: (If you wish to be added/removed from this list, comment or dm me)
Summery: She didn't know what to expect when sailing across the sea to marry a man she had never met before. Even though she was going in blind, she had hopes that her marriage would at least be bearable. Little did she know she would be marrying the hotheaded Aerion Bright-flame Targaryen. Marriage with him would be more than difficult, but she was determined to win him over.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
Tags: No Use of Y/N, Not Canon Compliant, Possessive Behavior, Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, finding love in an arranged marriage, Misogyny, Aerion does not know how to love, Fluff, semi-soft Aerion
Chapter 18: Actions Speak Louder than Words
Warnings: physical examination
Word count: 4,005
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Aerion grew tired of having to travel to her room for the weekly physical examinations. It was truly selfish. With how pregnant she had become, it was hard for her to walk the distance to Aerion’s room, just to check the health of their child.
The maester had already arrived, as she did not correctly calculate how long it would take her to reach the room. After having many examinations with Aerion in the room, and having him touch her bare stomach, pulling her dress up in front of her husband no longer phased her.
Aerion sat in his chair, not paying attention to the interaction. Unlike the first time he sat in on the examination, he tended to do something else, only paying attention when the maester spoke up. This time, he decided reading to be a suitable distraction.
“You will have to take those off.” The maester pointed to her gold bangles on her wrists.
She had forgotten about them after picking them out in the morning. “Oh yeah.”
Unclasping them she put them beside her, allowing the maester to feel her pulse through the skin on her wrists. Once he was satisfied with the reading, he moved onto her stomach. She watched the maester’s face, trying to read his mind as he decided if everything was okay.
The maester’s expression went from neutral to hardened as he listened through her stomach. She mirrored him, as she began to worry what he had found. She didn’t speak a word, waiting for him to confirm whatever it was that caused him to make such a face.
His hands rubbed over her bare stomach, pressing in farther than he had before. It was a strange feeling, almost to the point where it hurt. It was clear he was looking for something specific. Both of his hands were on either side of her, pushing in at the same time.
The maester’s face softened as he came to the realization. “There are two.”
“Two?” She questioned, leaning up on her elbows.
Aerion perked his head up from his book. The maester’s declaration was clear, yet it confused the two young parents. Placing the book down, Aerion walked over to his wife, gazing upon her.
It made perfect sense: The constant overeating, the grand size of her stomach, the severity of her pregnancy symptoms. The only thing that was confusing was how the maester just now realized, when the babies had been so developed.
“I am certain of it.” The maester clarified. “I can feel both of their heads.”
Pushing the maesters hand away, she wanted to feel her children. Even though she pressed into her stomach, just as the maester did, she could not tell what she was feeling. Aerion placed his palm over her belly button, sharing his warmth with his children.
“Two.” He mumbled to himself.
“I would say that they have two months left.” The maester informed them, now having the insight of why she had been growing so much.
“We already figured that out.” She responded to the maester, as they had come to that conclusion by putting their heads together.
Stepping away from the two, the maester gave his final thoughts. “They are good, healthy.”
“Perfect.” She smiled softly, rubbing where the children were, hoping that they could feel how much she loved them.
The maester left, leaving her and Aerion alone to sit with the news. Both of them were silent, enjoying the weight of knowing the gods have blessed them with not one, but two bundles of joys.
“I guess we should come up with another set of names.” She broke the silence, standing up from the bed. “Incase we have two girls or two boys"
“I do not see a reason to.” Aerion responded proudly as they made their way over to the couches. “It is clear that both of our wishes have been answered. We will have both a boy and a girl.”
“You do not know that.” She told him with a roll of her eyes. Sitting down, she picked the couch he wasn’t sitting on previously, yet sat at the edge closest to him.
“I do.” Aerion was confident in his answer. He sat down beside his book looking over at her.
“Either way,” She continued, pushing his declarations aside. “We still should come up with more names for when we have more.”
“When?” Aerion caught her unintentional wording.
“I meant if.” She corrected, not realizing what she had said.
“No you did not.” He could see through her.
She wanted more. She wanted to rebuild and create the grandest form of love with Aerion. He had shown no signs that he cared about her, only the children. She was scared to admit it, scared of the rejection. So she thought it was best to just move on without a word.
It was embarrassing. Her mouth betrayed her mind as she let it slip that she wished to continue to better their relationship. Currently, their situation was uncertain. It was clear that they both wanted the children, that they were excited to bring life into the world.
But neither of them knew how things would continue between them once the children were born. Would they both parent separately, respecting one another as they did so? That was how most arranged marriages ended up. Or would they be able to rebuild what they once had, raising the children from shared love and looking to have more.
“I mean…” She trailed off, trying to recover. “If there is a possibility of us having more children, it is best to prepare.”
Aerion paused for a moment, watching her squirm under his gaze. Continuing on, he told her, “Then we need to come up with another girl name.”
“What makes you say that?” She wondered, not understanding why he was so specific.
He thought back to the dream he had over a year ago, the one he told her was not true. “The premonition.”
“I thought you said it was a lie. Merely a dream.” She repeated his own words back to him, remembering the pain it caused when he told her.
She had pushed that beautiful image he created out of her mind. It hurt to think that it wasn’t true, that it wasn’t their future. But now, it seemed as though it might be. That he was only telling her that it could never happen, just to pain her.
“That was before we knew you were pregnant.” Aerion stated plainly.
“So you see a happy future for us?” Her heart clenched, waiting for his response.
“I see you happy with the children.” He clarified, cold and emotionless.
Aerion was a man who knew what he wanted and would get it at any cost. If they were to have another child, it would be because he wished to impregnate her once more. It also meant that their relationship would at least improve to the point where he was willing to touch her.
“You said that they were young in your vision.” Calling back to what he told her. She thought it was best to prepare names now while they’re debating them. “That means we could still have another boy.”
“You wish to have more than three children?” Aerion questioned, catching on to her underlying intention.
She had been doing a horrible job covering up what she wanted. Giving up, she proudly admitted. “I wish to have as many children you are willing to give me.”
Her words force him to pause. After the dream, he had never thought of having more than three, assuming that it was fate. That she would not want anymore. The thought of having more children, with her, riled something primal within him.
Yet, he did not want her to know. She couldn’t find out how his heart pulled for her. How he was constantly irritated at the distance between them. How he was still so angered that she betrayed him. That he was scared if they got close again, it would all end the same.
Composing himself once more, he continued. “I guess we should come up with another set of names then.”
“I was thinking. Since you named Maegor, and I Visenya.” She began to suggest a way to go about it, since the last time they came up with names was more like an argument. “You come up with the other girl's name and I decide the boy’s.”
“I can agree to that.” Aerion responded with a slight nod.
“I was reading through some old books.” The moment she saw the name, she knew she wanted it for herself. “I like Vaegon.”
“That is a good choice.” He agreed. It fit his parameters of not being overused, yet being a Targaryen name. When thinking of a girl’s name, he wanted something a bit more unique. “I’m thinking of Vaera.”
“I like that.” She nodded happily, relieved that they didn’t go back and forth like last time. “Then it is agreed”
“It is.” He finalized, letting the conversation end.
There was nothing else for them to discuss, yet neither of them bothered to move, like they both wanted something more but didn’t know how to achieve it. The awkward silence sat between them, until neither of them could handle it.
“I have tea with-” She said.
At the same time, Aerion told her. “I have to-”
They had risen from their seats unintentionally in unison. Having practically sat next to each other, just on different couches, they bumped into one another. If her large stomach were lessened any more, their faces would have been close enough to kiss.
They paused, not making any effort to move away. She could feel the light presence of his breath on her skin. It had gotten heavier as they stared in one another's eyes. She had forgotten how to breathe, almost suffocating.
Without a word, she turned not being able to handle being so close, yet so far. She knew that if she did not walk away now, she would do something she would deeply regret.
It only took her three steps before Aerion caught her wrist, stopping her. His warm, callus fingers grazed the thinnest part of her skin. Soft and beating was all he felt under his touch. Her heart raced, not knowing what would come next as his fingers caressed her.
It was almost as if Aerion didn’t realize what he did until it was too late. Letting go of her, he snapped his hand to his side. “Your heartbeat is good. Just as the maester says.”
Clearly an excuse, one that was played off horribly. “Yes.” She agreed, not wanting to push him farther, fearing what would come from it. “I must leave now. Kiera must be wondering where I am at.”
“Yes.” Was all he replied, blocking her off from him, physically and emotionally.
She wanted to say more, demanding that he said what's on his mind. Give him permission to do what he wished. She would allow him to do anything he wanted. She wanted him to do what he wished.
But she didn’t, because it was clear he did not want that with her. Not yet, at least. While she had a feeling he wanted it as much as she did, she did not want to force it unless she was certain that he too felt the same, and they would not go back to the way before, once the twins were born.
Excusing herself, she walked out of the room.
When she arrived to tea with Kiera, she tried her hardest to pay attention, but her mind wandered. She felt it deep in her bones, Aerion cared for her, even if he tried to hide it. But there was no proof, nothing that could give her the comfort of feeling safe enough to let him in.
“Are you listening?" Kiera softly wondered. “You seem off today.”
“I am fine, sorry. As you were saying?” She gave a strained smile, trying to ease her friend.
“After a year and a half of knowing one another,” Kiera tsked, “You really think I would believe a lie like that?”
“I just have a lot on my mind.” She huffed, placing her tea cup down.
“Like what?” Kiera pressed on. “You know you can always tell me.”
She felt bad. Kiera had always tried her hardest to be there for her, and she did the same. But with the pregnancy, she knew Kiera struggled a bit to be supportive, still mourning her stillborn children. So it truly hurt her to reveal to Kiera:
“I am pregnant with twins.”
There was a slight silence, but it was so deafening that it was impossible to miss. Kiera’s face turned sad before giving a soft smile. Reaching across the table, Kiera grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “That is truly joyous news.”
It was apparent as the clouds in the sky, Kiera was envious. Jealous that she got to have children. But she still tried her hardest to push her own personal feelings aside to support her friend. She did the same when it came to Kiera bringing up her relationship with Valarr. It was what a good friend did.
The two women were truly green-eyed for one another, each having something the other wanted. But there was no bad blood. Neither of them would change their position. Only being able to live vicariously thought the other.
“You do not seem happy by the news.” Kiera pointed out, noticing that she was not jumping with joy from the prospect.
“Do not get me wrong, I am more than happy.” She clarified. “It is just, my husband…”
She trailed off, not knowing how to word things. Aerion was a mystery to all, even her. No one could understand what went through his head, let alone how he would react to things. All she wanted to do was know the truth of how he felt.
Anxiety grew just from the conversation alone, she grabbed at her wrist. It was a habit she picked up, to mess with her jewelry when she became stressed. But when she tried to feel the comfort of gold bangles, she realized that they were missing.
She had left them in Aerion’s room, forgetting to put them back on after the maester asked her to remove them. Instead, she rubbed the thin skin of her wrist. Instinctively, she mimicked the way Aerion caressed her earlier, needing some form of comfort.
“Did he not like you being pregnant with two?” Kiera asked, not understanding what was wrong.
“I believe he is pleased with the news.” She said, finally figuring out a way to say it. “I fear he is not pleased with me.”
“What makes you say that?” Kiera wondered.
“That is the thing. I do not know.” She huffed, continuing on “We are doing good in comparison to a few months ago. But I fear that it is just because I am pregnant with his children.”
“Why do you not talk to him about it?” Kiera suggested, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
“Talk to him about his feelings?” She scoffed at the idea, knowing that would never go well.
“That is true.” Kiera shrugged, realizing her mistake. Trying to comfort her friend, she kept up with her questions. “But what are you scared of exactly?”
She thought for a moment, figuring out exactly what it was. “That the second I give birth to the children, he will abandon me once more. That we will go back to standing on the other side of the room. That he would pass me in the halls and act as though I do not exist, that I did not birth his children. Acting as if we were not truly happy at some point in time.”
“The way I see it.” Kiera sighed, trying to find a way to respond. “If you ask now, it would not change the outcome of the future. You could ask and he could tell you that he would not abandon you, but then decide to do so the second the children are born. And vice versa. That husband of yours is completely unpredictable.”
“That does not make me feel any better.” She groveled, sinking into her seat.
“What I mean to say,” Kiera clarified, trying to word it another way. “If he never stopped loving you, then you could not know until the children are born. You should focus on yourself now, do not dwell on the future.”
“I guess.” She trailed off.
Even though Kiera’s words were true, it did not settle the feeling of dread in her stomach. They went on to talk of different things as she tried her hardest to focus. Her fingers kept close to her wrist, needing her bangles to mess with.
After the tea with Kiera had concluded, she made her way back to Aerion's room. She knew she could have a maid sent to go find her bangles, but the exercise would do her well. And she had the smallest sliver of hope that Aerion was there too, so she had a reason to continue being in his presence.
Knocking on his door, she waited for an answer, but it never came. He must have not returned from his activity. Not wanting to wait until a later time, she pressed into the room, entering without permission.
The bangles were left on the bed, that is where she placed them. But when she reached the red velvet sheets, they were gone. Her brows furrowed as she frowned, looking around at the nearby surfaces.
When she couldn’t find them on either of the bed tables, she began to walk around the room, focusing on the places she knew she was sitting at or standing by. She was doubting her own memory, not understanding where they could have gone.
Walking back over to the bed, she looked at the floor, thinking that maybe they were pushed off. With a huff of annoyance, she used the bed as a sport to get on the floor. Laying on the cold stone ground, she did not find the shine of gold, but a wooden box tucked under the bed.
Grabbing the box, she thought that it could possibly be sitting behind it. The moment the box moved, the items in it rattled and the distinct sound of metal hitting metal was heard. Curiously, she pulled the box out. Sitting on her legs, she opened the box that sat before her.
A wave of emotions washed through her as she looked at the contents of the box. On the top was the gold bangles she had left behind, but she would have never guessed he had the items underneath.
Pulling them out one by one, she took note of every object: Their wedding cloth, the one that was wrapped around their hands as the gods above witnessed their union. The wreath she made for their wedding tournament, dusted with dirt. The stuffed animal she sewed for him, that he said was childish. A necklace she believed she left behind at Summerhall, perfectly procured in its box to keep it safe. And even the dead, dried out, floral wreath she had made for Aerion, but gave to Ser Duncan. It was still covered in mud and blood, but kept in perfect condition.
Aerion was a liar.
Acting as if he did not care for her. Pretending he stopped loving her. Making her believe that he hated her. It was all a lie. One Aerion did a very good job at hiding. She would have never known if she did not find this box.
The proof was, staring her in the face. He never stopped his feelings, they never wavered. Aerion merely locked it up in a box, putting it somewhere he didn’t have to see, as if he was trying to forget it all.
It was clear he had never forgotten. He went back to the box even after their fight, to place the wreath in, and now the golden bangles she left behind.
She was lost in thought, practically in shock. So much so that she did not hear the door open or close. Nor the sound of Aerion’s shoes stomping over to her.
“What do you think you are doing?” Aerion shouted, which he rarely did. He was panicked, not knowing what to do now that she found the box.
“What is all of this?” She asked quietly, keeping her eyes on the objects laid out on the floor.
“I do not need to explain myself to you.” He snared.
Turning to him, tears brimmed her eyes. She could not tell if they were out of happiness or something else entirely. “You kept all of it.”
“You have no right going through my room.” Aerion tried intimidating her, not wanting her to press on any farther. Not wanting to tell her why he had taken the things and kept them safe.
“You have no right keeping my items.” She shot back, motioning over them.
“The moment you leave them in my room, they become mine.” Aerion attempted to make his reasoning seem righteous. “You clearly do not care for them that much if you forget it.”
“Why did you not throw them out? Have the maids given them to me?” She pointed out the inaccuracies in his reasoning. “You chose to put them in this box, hiding it under your bed.”
Not wanting to sit below him while they argued, she tried to get up quickly. Even with the support of the bed, she struggled, almost falling back to the floor. Before she could, Aerion’s strong arms caught her, not letting her get hurt.
“Idiot” He scolded her. “Are you trying to harm our children?”
This time, it was Aerion’s mouth that betrayed him. The entire pregnancy, he referred to the children as ‘my’. My son. My daughter. My child. It was the first time that he ever acknowledged that the children were her too. Not just hers, but theirs.
Standing to her feet with the help of Aerion, she looked at him. Her lips trembled as she tried her hardest not to smile. Calmly she put her palms on Aerion’s chest, really feeling him for the first time in months.
“Aerion.” She whispered quietly, staring deeply in his eyes. She was no longer scared, worried about being rejected. The proof sat at her feet. He loved her. “ You hurt me. I hurt you. But through it all, I never stopped loving you.”
“Is that an admittance of guilt?” Aerion asked with a cocked eyebrow. He always wanted to win, even in the face of his wife. “That you betrayed me.”
“Seven above, you ruin everything.” She quickly grew irritated, believing that they were going to get somewhere for once.
Removing herself from him, she began to walk past, heading for the door. She wasn’t going to allow him to ruin her mood, to start another fight. He lied and lied and lied. When he wasn’t lying, he was deflecting, and she couldn’t stand it.
Just as before, she only got a few steps away until his hand gripped her wrist. Instead of pulling her back, or holding her there, or lying and saying he was checking her pulse, Aerion stepped up to her, pressing his lips against hers.
It had been so long that she almost forgot what it felt like, to have their lips on one another. To have him show his love. Melting into him, she gladly accepted it with a small smile.
Aerion pulled away from her softly, but did not go far. Whispering his words onto her lips, he asked her, “Must you constantly irritate me?”
“It is you who irritates me.” She lightly fought back. “Saying one thing and doing another.”
“I hate you” He softly told her, leaning in once more, kissing her deeply, passionately.
Next ->
Thank you all for your votes, YOU WERE ALL RIGHT!!! HEHEHE. I have a commision of the kids if you'd wanna see it, join the discord! (https://discord.gg/wxen6c27rd)
I dont have much planned for next chapter so itll probably be much shorter. I also have midterms next week so I may not be able to write as much!!
I have an idea for a shorter fic with Daeron and a two chaptered fic with Duncan. let me know if you'd be interested in those!
Thank you all for the love and support!! you keep me going!!
Taglist: (If you wish to be added/removed from this list, comment or dm me)
Summery: She didn't know what to expect when sailing across the sea to marry a man she had never met before. Even though she was going in blind, she had hopes that her marriage would at least be bearable. Little did she know she would be marrying the hotheaded Aerion Bright-flame Targaryen. Marriage with him would be more than difficult, but she was determined to win him over.
I do not read the books. I am basing most of the fic off of own personal beliefs of his character, and what I have seen so far in the show. (i do a bit of research here and there though.)
Tags: No Use of Y/N, Not Canon Compliant, Possessive Behavior, Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, finding love in an arranged marriage, Misogyny, Aerion does not know how to love, Fluff, semi-soft Aerion
Chapter 17: The Olive Branch
Warnings: Unwanted touch (NOT SEXUAL!), slight violence
Word count: 2,903
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King Daeron called all the members of the court together. Granted, it probably was not the best idea to have so many people in the small hall. But he wished to address his subjects on his plan of action regarding the great spring sickness.
Disease had ravaged all throughout the seven kingdoms, killing thousands of innocent people: Noble, royal, peasant, old, young, healthy, brittle. It didn’t matter who or what you were, the sickness would come for you and take you with it in the process.
The King wished to decree rules throughout the kingdoms, in hopes to lessen the spread and cease the inevitability of death once a person caught it. He worked hard with his maesters, formulating a plan and hoped that if everyone obliged, the issue wouldn’t be one for long.
She stood randomly among the court, surrounded by people she had not really known. In truth, she didn’t wish to be there. The weight of the babe in her stomach pressed aggressively on her legs. As her stomach grew larger, the better it was for her to lean back and rest her weight on her heels. Although, the large bump gave her a good resting spot for her hands.
Just as she felt as though she would collapse if she stood any longer, King Daeron concluded his speech, allowing his subjects to go free. She sighed in relief. People began to file out, while some others stayed, mingling with one another.
As she tried her hardest to walk out of the room without bumping into another person, but her wish to get out cleanly was ruined when an older woman stepped in front of her, blocking her exit.
“Look at you!” The old woman praised, looking down at her growing belly. “Pregnancy suits you well.”
“Thank you Lady Asta.” She replied, trying to politely maneuver away from the woman.
She knew it was coming, it had happened way too many times. Even though she tried to escape it, when her stomach was so big, it was hard to avoid. Lady Asta’s old wrinkly hands grasped her stomach, feeling her and the babe.
“I can feel it, he’s going to be strong.” Lady Asta happily said.
The woman assumed the babe was going to be a boy due to the old, and still pretty relevant, ways of boys being more important and more wanted. That and Aerion had declared to everyone that he was to have a son.
“The maester says it is growing well.” She responded with a small smile.
She shook in disgust, feeling the slim, bony fingers rub over top the fabric of her dress. She wished to say what was on her mind, slap the old hand away and curse at the woman for daring to touch her and her child.
But she was a princess, and had an image to uphold. As it had happened so many times, she had learned different ways to get it to stop without causing a scene. Taking a small step backwards, she had hoped that the hands would be removed and Lady Asta wouldn’t press forward. To her dismay, they did.
“When does the maester think he is due?” Lady Asta asked, continuing to rub her baby bump.
“The date keeps changing.” She awkwardly laughed. “One week the maester says it will be three months, the next he says five. I believe that the maester has no idea what he is talking about.”
Since the first way didn’t work, it was time to deploy the second tactic. Placing both hands on the top of the bump, she interlocked her fingers. Moving her hands slowly down her stomach, she didn’t want to make it too obvious that she was cleaning her stomach of the unwanted grasps.
Lady Asta removed her hands to avoid her touch reaching too low and becoming inappropriate. Uncomfortably, the hands touched her once more, not giving up. She began to grow more than irritated, trying twice to get the woman off of her. No matter what she did, the old woman couldn’t comprehend that.
As she tried her hardest to come up with another way to politely reject the woman, someone appeared beside the two. She didn’t have the time to register who it was before Lady Asta’s hands were ripped off her stomach.
Aerion twisted the old woman’s frail arm, causing her to contort awkwardly to keep it from breaking. The yelp the woman made caught the attention of everyone in the hall, all eyes turning to them.
Aerion stood tall, unmoving, keeping the woman in his tight grasp. He looked down on her with sharp eyes and a deep frown. “How dare you touch my wife without permission.”
“My prince,” The old woman cried, pleading for him to stop harming her. “I didn’t-”
“What?” Aerion cut her off, not happy with how long it took for her to respond. “I know she did not allow you to, as she was trying to get away from your touch.”
“Please let go. It hurts.” The woman used her free hand to try and grab at Aerion’s tunic, hoping he would let go.
“Did you not pay attention to my grandsire’s speech?” Aerion didn’t let go, continuing to press on. “Spring sickness is raging, who knows, you may have it and wish to spread it. I should behead you for attempting to kill my wife and son.”
Aerion was causing a scene, as the people in the hall began to walk through the large doors, trying to see what was going on. No one moved, no one stepped in, fearful of what Aerion would do to the poor old woman if they tried to intervene.
“I’m sorry!” The woman sobbed. “You’ll break my wrist!”
It was a bad look, she knew that. But she couldn’t help the feeling of her heart swelling witnessing Aerion protect her so fiercely. Though she did feel bad for Lady Asta, the woman meant no harm.
Before Aerion could hurt the old woman anymore, she stepped toward him a bit. Calmly, she laid her hand on Aerion’s velvety red tunic. Her hand was met with the heat radiating off of his body. It was the first time they had touched since they first found out they were to have a child. She almost forgot what he felt like under her fingertips.
“I believe your message has been received.” She told him softly.
His eyes didn’t move from the old lady, watching her pain filled face contort. With a deep huff, Aerion threw the wrist down causing the woman to fall to the stone with a smack. Looking around at the people who witnessed the interaction, he glared at them, warningly.
Without another word, he grasped his wife’s hand, leading her out through one of the side doors. He was swift, but gentle, making sure he didn’t cause her to fall. Once they were far enough away from the court, he stopped, letting go of her hand.
“Thank you.” She said, out of breath from the exertion.
“That hag needs to know her place.” Aerion spat, still angered by the situation. “I should have snapped her wrist.”
“I doubt after that display, anyone will dare touch me again.” She tried to calm his nerves.
“Good.” He said, looking at her with clear eyes. “If anyone does, I will cut their hand off.”
“I have no doubt you will.” She gave him a small smile, happy that he was willing to protect her in such a way.
His eyebrows began to knit together as he studied her face. She looked at him curiously, not knowing what had him so intrigued. Aerion’s eyes traveled down her body to her clothed stomach. Without thinking, his hands began to make their way to it.
They moved slowly, like a predator hunting its prey. Just as his fingers ghosted over the fabric, he stopped, standing as still as stone. It was almost as if he were scared to cross that barrier.
She didn’t pull away, didn’t tell him off. She just stood there, waiting for him to make his next move. Her eyes were glued to the strong hands, the ones that almost broke a poor old woman’s wrists. The ones that embraced her many months ago. The ones that wrapped around her neck moments after she found out she was pregnant.
In the blink of an eye, his hands snapped to his side, leaving her to still feel the presence of them. Looking back up to her, his face was stern, calculated. “Have you eaten? You look thin.”
“Oh, Uh-” She was shocked by his sudden change, not expecting it. “I ate in the morning. But with the assembly, I did not have lunch.”
Aerion’s face hardened. “Are you trying to kill my son?”
“All I have done this pregnancy is eat.” She chuckled at his worry, finding it almost cute. “It will be fine missing one meal. Plus I am not hungry, so it is clear it is not either.”
“That will not do.” Aerion retorted, beginning to walk away.
Just as he expected of her, she followed behind. “What are you planning?”
“I will have dinner brought to my room.” Aerion told her as he attempted to find someone to order around.
“Will you watch me eat?” She wondered, finding it a bit ridiculous.
“I will force the food down your throat if I have to.” He was being serious as ever.
Just as Aerion said, he had ordered dinner, taking it in his room. At first, she thought it would be awkward with him just watching her as she ate. But to her surprise, he too joined her in enjoying the meal.
It felt like old times, the way they used to be, many months ago. When she could call this room, hers, as well. Although it was still different. Instead of discussions of their day, books, or practically anything, the air was only filled with the sound of silver against porcelain.
The silence was eating her alive, as she could not stand being so close, yet so far from Aerion. It seemed as though they had reached a common ground when it came to the babe, so it was the perfect talking point.
“When do you think the babe will come?” She wondered, as it seemed that no one had any clue.
“I cannot tell,” Aerion told truthfully.
She huffed in frustration, as the conversation led nowhere. Yet, she still tried. “The maester’s answer keeps changing. It irritates me greatly.”
“Me as well.” Aerion agreed. “I am half tempted to hire a new one from the citadel. One that knows more of pregnancy and can truly tell us what is going on.”
“I could not agree more.” Laying her silverware down, she had finished her food. Letting it settle in her stomach, she leaned back on the chair. “You would think, being the maester for the royal family, they would know quite a bit.”
“One would think.” Aerion added on.
“So.” She trailed off, trying to circle back. “When do you think it will come?”
He too placed his silverware down. Looking at her stomach, he put more thought into his answer. “Your belly is large.”
“It is.” She agreed, rubbing it.
“Which makes me think you are far along.” He continued his train of thought. “But you were not showing in Ashford. I would know.”
“No I was not.” She continued to confirm his ideas.
“Then we would have to think on when conception was.” His conclusion only led to another question.
“Now that I think on it.” She said, remembering the time they were at the tournament. She tried to focus on the subject at hand, pushing away any bad memories. “I do believe my monthly cycle was the week before we left.”
“So then he was conceived that one night.” Aerion didn’t need to go into details for her to know exactly what he was talking about.
The memory pained her, knowing what happened afterwards. Trying to not think too hard on it, she said. “So I am five and a half months pregnant.”
“And you will give birth in about three and a half months.” Aerion finalized his answer.
“See, who needs that stupid maester.” She huffed, aggravated that he could not figure that out.
“If you are that large at only five and a half months,” Aerion watched her stomach rise and fall with her breath. “Then he will be a large baby.”
“Or a fat one.” She said leaning forward, grabbing a grape from the fruit bowl. “I did say I have been eating nonstop.”
Aerion hummed in response, lost in thought. She watched him, trying to understand what was going on behind his violet eyes. Like they had been many times previously, his eyes were trained on her stomach.
A moment of realization hit her, that maybe he was just too scared to ask. Standing up, she waddled over to him, stomach full of food. His eyes trailed up her body, looking at her from his seated position. She smiled softly down at him.
“You may touch my belly.” She told him, cradling the side of her stomach with her own hands.
His eyes left her face, looking at the large bump in front of him. It was as if he didn’t know what to do. That he feared messing up somehow. Or maybe there was something else lying beneath the surface.
“I thought you said you hated when people did such a thing.” It was a genuine question, as she had made it more than obvious how much she disdained the act.
“I do.” She admitted. “But you are my husband. The father of the child. You have a right to touch it.”
Aerion hesitated, looking down at it with an unreadable expression. He knew she was pregnant, it was abundantly clear, but the reality of him having a child had not yet settled in his bones.
For years, he played with the idea of having an heir, excited by the prospect, but it was just a distant thought, a dream that he did not truly think about being real. But there the proof was, lying in front of him.
He avoided her stomach. It was easy to look at her and see that she was pregnant. But he knew that the moment he touched it, he would be able to feel the weight of it all. It was a frightening thought, one he had tried to push away for many months.
“It is okay.” She reassured him, urging him to do so.
Lifting his hands from his lap, he placed them on her belly. Aerion’s movements were rigid, stiff as he brushed his palms against it. It was weird to feel. He knew what her stomach had felt like before there was a child inside. His child.
The more he felt her, the more he craved. He wished to be closer, to break the barrier and get as close to his child as he could. Aerion’s hands traveled down her stomach until it no longer touched it. Bunching the fabric, he began to pull up her dress.
“What are you-” She began to protest, startled by his change in demeanor.
“I need to feel him.” He cut her off. “Bare.”
She didn’t protest, letting him do what he wished. It was a large jump, going from not touching her at all, to pressing his warm, rough palms to her bare stomach. Yet, she was not opposed to it, enjoying the feeling she had missed too dearly.
Holding up the fabric of her dress, she allowed him the freedom to touch her. His eyes were wide as he examined her stretched skin, being closer than he had ever been before. He was in awe, as the idea of having a child with her began to flow over him, instead of forcing him down.
Placing his forehead against it, he mumbled to himself. “My son is in there.”
Getting slightly annoyed by the constant declaration of a boy, she softly reminded him, “We will not know the sex until it is born.”
“No.” He rejected her claim. “I can feel him.”
Taking a deep breath, she rolled her eyes at him. But, she held her tongue not wanting to argue during such a soft moment.
The strangest feeling occurred as she stood there. It almost felt as though her stomach was settling the food she ate, but only in a very specific spot, the place he laid his forehead. She had heard about it before, but had never felt it.
It was clear by the way Aerion jumped back, that he too had felt it. Not expecting it he questioned, “Did you feel that?”
“Of course I felt it. It came from inside of me.” She chuckled in response. “That was the first time it kicked.”
“I believe Maegor is trying to tell us that he is in fact a boy.” Aerion cockily said to her, determined to win this bet.
“Or maybe Visenya is trying to kick you for thinking she is a boy.” She proudly responded.
No other words were spared between them, as they both looked at the stomach that held their unborn child, waiting for another response. She watched him intrinsically, happy to know that Aerion wanted this. He wanted their child.
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I GENUINLY THINK THIS IS THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER WRITTEN OMGGG I hope you all love it as much as I did writing it!!! please let me know your thoughts!! i have loved seeing the debate of girl vs boy, so please let me know what you think it will be!!
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