The Night Everything Went Wrong
or: The Targaryens, The Police and A Very Bad Night
Okay. I just realised what this looks like.
This is NOT readerxegg taragaryen.
That is Daella Targaryen, one of Maekar's daughters (the elder one)
This is just suppposed to portray the Targaryen chaos.
All these drabbles will eventually be connected to a lannister!FMC X Maekar Targaryen oneshot I am planning.
Lyonel Baratheon is aged around 20-22 here. I have opted to take his book age and not his show age. Why? Because I don't want high schoolers and college goers going to a party a 40 year old is throwing, lol.
Daella Targaryen did not look particularly like her brothers.
Where they sported hair so light it looked almost white, hers was the colour of the earth. But she had the most beautiful eyes—lilac. Soft, pretty, lilac.
And right now Daella stood on her doorstep, looking up at her with those same lilac eyes, pleading. “Please?”
She stood aside to let Daella enter. “You know I can’t.”
Daella huffed and stalked inside the room. “And you know how long I have been wanting to go to one of his parties—”
“They are more ragers than parties, Daella.”
“Please, please, please, please, please—”
She put her hands over her ears. “Oh my god! Stop!”
“Why can’t you just get Aelora to take you?”
“Won’t you ask me why I can’t?!”
She sighed. “Just tell me.”
“Well, uncle Baelor found Daeron’s stash this morning, but he didn’t know whose it was because it was stuffed over the cabinets in the bathroom. So he has grounded everyone until he can identify the culprit.”
“I want to say that I am disappointed, but it was really bound to happen one of these days.”
She tried to play dumb. “Will I, what?”
“Take me to the party Lyonel’s throwing!”
She sighed. “You are whining again.”
Daella crossed her arms. “Why not?”
“Because I have a lot of assignments due and I really don’t think it’s a good idea for me to help you go to a party that your father would very much disapprove of?”
“But I told Dunk that I would be there.” Daella grumbled.
The younger girl blushed, and her words came out in a rush. “Dunk. He is a guy and I really like him and he asked me last week whether I was going to be coming and I said yes and now I really need to be there!”
She sat Daella down on her bed, grinning. “Okay, um... I can see why you want to go. But if Baelor, or worse, Maekar finds out—”
“Well, then. Let’s get you ready for meeting this Dunk.”
The party that Lyonel Baratheon had hosted had gotten very clearly out of control.
Daella had long since disappeared into the crowd with her friends, all of whom had been giggling uncontrollably.
“What are you looking so serious about, pretty?”
She cringed, pushing the drunk guy swaying toward her away and continued further into the house.
Normally she wouldn’t have hated coming to a party. To loosen up. To have fun. But tonight had been her night to spend some time with herself. Maybe read conspiracy theories on the internet and shit herself to death or something. Plus, none of her friends were here.
But sadly, she loved little Daella too much. Which was why she was searching for her in this madhouse. It was late anyway. It was time to head back home.
The Targaryens’ home was just around the block, lucky girl. Daella wouldn’t have to walk much. She probably planned to climb in through a window or something.
But she herself would have to walk for around 10 minutes before she would reach her flat. Crashing for the night at her uncle’s house sounded like heaven, but it would only result in unwanted questions in the morning.
The song reached her ears before she was met with the not so welcome sight.
“Oh Alice with three fingers never had a lot, she gave me all she had to give,
Two more than what was sought, oh! Two more than what was sought!”
Lyonel Baratheon was perched on a table with friends.
The boys were making fools of themselves.
Their voices were so loud that they carried over the actual music that was blasting through the speakers. A crowd had gathered, all of them snickering among each other, and some even singing along.
She let her eyes wander, hoping to spot Daella. And then she saw someone familiar. Someone awfully familiar. And awfully out of place.
Her footsteps were fast as she followed the boy into what seemed like a private sitting room of sorts. “Aegon Targaryen, what the hell are you doing here?”
Egg jumped what looked like three feet in the air.
He turned to look at her.
She fumbled for a moment, trying to find a light switch. She couldn’t see him too well in the dark.
“What are you doing here?!” She repeated.
“Stop stammering, Egg. You are not supposed to be here!”
Her fingers travelled along the wall, looking for the switch. “Really? Because I believe I am old enough to be here. Are you?”
He sounded sheepish. “Not really.”
“Didn’t Baelor ground the lot of you?”
She finally found the switchboard. She squinted in the sudden brightness.
They both went quiet for a moment.
It was then that she noticed that something looked awfully different about him. She reached out and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him forward into the light.
“I asked Daeron to do it for me.”
“And when did this happen?”
“I—I... don’t see why I need to tell you.”
“Okay. Um... okay, don’t tell me. Will you at least say what you are doing here?”
“I heard the noise from my room and came over because I couldn’t sleep.”
She stared at him. Then sighed. He looked like he was telling the truth.
And it was not like there was nothing she could do about it now.
She let go of her hold on his arm. Looking around, she sat down on a nearby couch that had looked quite unwelcoming but was surprisingly comfortable.
Egg eyed her. “Excuse me, but where do I know you from?”
“I was your neighbour, Egg. Until last year. I guess you don't remember. Obviously.”
“I am Gerold Lannister’s niece.”
“Oh. Oh! Are you the one who ran away?”
She rushed to correct him. “I did not exactly run away—”
“I thought you jumped out of your window in the middle of the night?”
She felt herself flush. “Ah... yes, I guess you can say that I did.”
“Isn’t that running away?”
She was saved from the pain of answering his question by a very queer sound— the sound of sirens. Police sirens.
She felt herself stiffening.
Had someone called the police on Baratheon’s stupid party?
She really couldn’t afford to be caught here. Her eyes went to Egg, who looked as if he was contemplating fight or flight (as was everyone else in this building, no doubt).
She stood up and held out her hand for Egg to take.
He kept staring at her, making no move to accept her outstretched hand.
“Oh, come on. I promise I won’t kidnap you. I am just taking you back to your house. You can sneak back in the way you sneaked out. I won’t say anything.”
She mimed zipping her lips. “My lips are sealed.”
And then his hand was in hers and they were walking out of the room and outside there was a flurry of movement as everyone seemed to have reached the conclusion she had reached— flight.
She let the crowd of people guide her outside the house, only stopping once to move Egg, who had been trailing behind her, to her front so that she could keep her eyes on him.
And then they were outside the house and the air had gotten much colder since she had last been outside hours ago. Strangely, the police were nowhere in the vicinity.
They must have only been passing by.
But there was no saving the party at that point. The garden of the Baratheons’ and the street was already filled with drunk teenagers making their way home. Some stood on the pavement fiddling with their phones, calling and talking.
It was much better outside of the house than it had been inside. The stuffy, suffocating feeling that had been choking her throat all evening seemed to have quite literally gone with the wind.
And now one of her hand was in her pocket, trying to keep out the cold, while the other was clasped in the boy’s.
Egg looked like he was very close to falling asleep. “I still don’t remember who you are, you know?”
He smiled up at her. “But I think I will now.”
And then the Targaryens’ house was just a few meters away and it was apparent that the police cars hadn’t just been passing by— they had been going somewhere.
About half a dozen cars were parked outside the house. Even at the distance, it was quite apparent that something serious had happened.
“Is there any chance that they won’t notice us?”
She grimaced. “Probably not.”
As they neared, she muttered worriedly under her breath, “I hope Daella is okay.”
She readied herself to somehow distract the boy. But then she didn’t have to. A voice carried over to them. A police officer was waving at them. “Hey!”
And then she was looking into a pair of mismatched eyes. One blue, and one black.
But then Baelor had been pushed aside and Maekar was in her face.
Someone had already forced her to shake off her hold on Egg’s hand. She stumbled back a few steps. Egg was saying something quite loudly, but no one was listening to him.
She was quite suddenly very aware of the numerous eyes on her.
It seemed like the whole family was out of the house. What had happened?
“I—sir, quite respectfully—”
And then another voice came from somewhere behind the two men who were glaring at her.
“Father, she is the same girl who was selling poisoned cookies a few weeks back! I told you she was no good.”
Baelor and Maekar both turned to look over their shoulders at Aerion Targaryen surprisingly at the same time. She couldn’t see their faces, but it shut the boy up.
And then Baelor spoke and she had never heard someone sound more condescending and polite at the same time.
“She was selling... poisoned cookies?”
Maekar shook his head, fingers going to his forehead.
“I have no idea what the fuck he is talking about.”
She rushed to explain herself, directing her words at the older brother.
“I swear I did not kidnap Aegon or something. I found him at the party around the block and decided to walk him home because it was quite late. I am Gerold Lannister’s niece. I used to live in that house right there.”
She pointed in the direction of her uncle’s house.
“I know Aegon from then and that's why I recognized him.”
Baelor Targaryen stared at her for a moment.
And then she stood and stared at her feet and did nothing as he talked to the officers and Maekar went to talk to Egg.
She wanted to leave. She really did. But she hadn’t exactly been excused or something. And call her stupid or a coward, but she really felt like just leaving out of the blue wouldn't put her in their best graces.
She shifted her weight and, despite herself, let her eyes drift back to Maekar.
He was hunched a little and stood apart from the others, shoulders squared, speaking to Aegon in that low, clipped tone of his.
There was something about the way he carried himself—so solid, so immovably certain—that made the rest of them look like children by comparison.
He was older, yes. Much older. The pox scars on his cheeks were visible even in the dim driveway lights, and his mouth seemed permanently set in a line of mild irritation.
And yet, watching him like this—broad-shouldered, gruff, entirely in command of the situation, and still looking frustrated out of his mind—sent a strange, unwelcome flutter low in her stomach.
She wanted to be the one to wipe that frown off of his face. Her eyes dropped to his lips.
She looked away almost immediately, a little annoyed with herself, shaking her head.
Honestly. Of all the terrible ideas.
The police cars were driving away when she heard the door opening and closing, then feet on the driveway and a voice calling her name. She turned.
Daella, drunkenly trying to shake off her father’s grip.
“Oh no, dad. It’s okay. I know her.”
The silence that followed was heavy.
“She helped me get ready for the party. Don’t worry. I know her!”
Everyone was staring at her again.
Daella owed her. Big-time.
The words given in the last parts of the story where Aerion is being all "this is the girl who was selling poisoned cookies" is actually a mention of a drabble I had written previously.
The link to that drabble is given with the words themselves. You can check it out if you want(please do!)
Likes, comments and reblogs will be much appreciated!
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