Between A Dream & A Hard Place (Prologue) series (Ao3 Link) -> At four and ten, Daeron dreams of a maiden kneeling before a weirwood. At eight and ten, he ventures North for a marriage not of his chosing, but of the crown's command. A Pact was made when dragons danced. A Pact is honored when Blackfyres are a constant threat. And the bonds between House Targaryen and House Stark are strengthened when the eldest of a fourth son marries the youngest daughter of a Warden of the North. Some things change for the better, others for the worse. A few stay the same. But when one with dragon dreams meets one with greensight there are bound to be repercussions no one thought would happen.
Godspeed Dreamers A sequel to Between A Dream & A Hard Place (Ao3 Link) -> Blood, sacrifice, and death. The gods have seen fit to meddle in ways no one could predict. In the aftermath of a tragedy in Ashford, a bargain, however unintentional, was struck. The world turns and what was once set in stone as fate is suddenly no longer a certainty. And now Daeron, and all those around him, must deal with the consequences of changing fate itself.
Blank Canvas Pt1 (Ao3 Link) -> Sometimes change is for the better. A new place, a new life, rebuilding after hitting rock bottom, he is doing that in White Harbor, far from the walls of Summerhall and the chaos of King's Landing. A story about second chances and growth, as seen through Daeron Targaryen's eyes.
@therealslimshakespeare
In Dreams Series Masterlist (Ao3 Link) -> Bloodraven whittles this family for sport, and I am to trust the gods?
@musingsofheaven
Waiting Room (Masterlist) -> they say marriage is more than bearing children, yet in Westeros, a woman’s worth is measured by whether she can give her husband a child, and you are just another wife who needs to do your part.
@julez-5
Fixer Upper -> (Modern Au) You were hired to fix the horrid image of Daeron Taragryen, but you never expected to fall for his drunken charm.
No Cameras Now -> (Modern Au) You were hired to fix the image of Daeron, and swore it was professional, but there was no cameras around and you had let him kiss you. OR Daeron was fine with giving you space allowing you to collect your thoughts from your heated momemnt, but then he saw you flirting with his younger brother.
@pennyroyaltar
Overheard Yearning -> (AO3 Link) your betrothal is not a happy one. he's convinced you hate his guts. you've convinced yourself that this is true. well, that is — until he overhears a very..revealing conversation between you and a friend, where you wax poetic about how much you want him.
@idreamedofyouuuu
Making Him Jealous -> You're King Aerys I Targaryen's only daughter and he decided you should marry Daeron, your cousin. Let's say you both are jealous during the feast that Maekar threw for you and Daeron's bethoral
Messy Wedding Night -> a messy wedding night with your brother you married.
Good Morning -> (Modern Au) you wake up horny next to Daeron, your boyfriend
@asoiafraven
A Sleeping Dragon -> Since finding love Daeron thought the Gods had spared him the worst of his dragon dreams but he was mistaken.
@sansaorgana
Unworthy -> Daeron avoids his wife because he thinks he is not worthy of her and he wants to protect her from himself. Meanwhile, she thinks she is lacking and a disappointment to him. Finally, after teasing comments from his friends, he decides to fulfill his marital duty but his insecurities make him struggle.
Wishful Thinking -> Your husband doesn't believe he is worthy of you, so it doesn't help when other women pity you for being married to him. You defend Daeron in public, not realising he can hear you standing up for him.
Silent Treatment -> Daeron embarrassed you at the feast thrown to celebrate your mother's name day, which led to an argument between you two. You give him silent treatment and he realises he should finally change his behavior because he's about to lose what is the dearest to him.
The Mystery Knight -> Maekar sends Daeron to take a part in a tournament organised by an unimportant Lord, hoping that his son can at least win this one. However, The Mystery Knight from Daeron's dream complicates the tourney for the Prince. Especially when he finds out who (s)he is...
A Fortnight Apart -> Daeron doesn't react well to the news of his wife's pregnancy, which results in a fight. He goes to the tavern and she flees in the middle of the night to be with her family.
@cosmicoatlatte
To Believe In Tomorrow -> Daeron and his darling wife enjoy an evening in the gardens of Summerhall...
@maekarsmistress
A Change -> maekar starts to notice changes in his eldest son, and who to thank for them.
Restless -> your husband awakens you with a horrible nightmare - you help him settle... in your own way.
@thespottedcreature
Too Good For Me -> You love your husband very much, even if he and sometimes others don't always understand why you love him so.
Drunken Dragon -> Being the wife of Daeron the Drunken, you've figured out how to stretch the truth whenever the situation calls for it, especially with your pregnancy.
@saeransangel
The Heavens and The Earth -> Daeron continues to push you away after your arranged marriage. You want to find comfort in your troubled husband, you wish for love to grow between the two of you, but how could that be if he keeps you so far from him? Then there comes a day when you finally put your heart on the line, and everything comes spilling out.
@h0ney223
Late Nights -> Your husband comes back from a late night of drinking, again.
@pacificheights (Ao3 Link)
Cups and Cups -> finding your husband in his cups at odd hours of the night had become routine. thank the gods you had perfected coaxing your wine-addled prince back to bed.
A Helping Hand -> being dragged to Ashford is bad enough. the forced sobriety that follows might be worse. on the night before the trial, you help distract your husband from his withdrawal in the best way you know how.
Make Me Behave Like An Animal -> Daeron drags you to a shitty dive bar to see some shitty band named Rat Poison. Your first mistake? Going shot for shot with him. Your second? Noticing how good he looks under those lights. By the fourth shot, you've stopped making mistakes and started making decisions.
Ulterior Motives -> your husband wants another child. you're not sure if his reasons are entirely selfless.
Grow A Pear Series Masterlist
Grow A Pear (Angst) (AO3 Link) -> the one in which you find out that your husband is cheating on you
Too Far Gone Pt 1 (Grow a Pear Sequel) (AO3 Link) -> after your husband's infidelity, you did not think you would return. the harsh reality of it - surviving as a lone woman in westeros was not a manageable feat. so, there you found yourself, back in your shared apartments.
@starxs-s
My Nightmare
@valarrsgirl
Modern!daeron -> summer in northern italy with dearon
I'm Your Man (Modern Au) -> what starts as trying to get him home turns into a messy, desperate confession he’s been wanting you for months.. and a reckless hookup, when neither of you can pretend otherwise anymore.
Without You (Modern Au) -> you walk into a club you didn’t want to be in, and there he is. the man you loved, broken and wild. one look, and the past crashes in. he confesses and promises to never let go of you again, and for the first time, you almost believe him.
@feyhunter78
My Light, My Life -> What began as an insult quickly turned into a marriage of deep devotion and comfort. AKA you’re the only thing keeping Daeron together.
Crawling Back To You -> Trials, grief, anger, it all falls away when your husband has need of you.
Five Firsts with Daeron -> Meeting, apology, lie, kiss, and bedding. Five firsts with the prince who would capture your heart.
Conversations in the Garden -> At a garden party with your husband Daeron asleep in your lap, you discuss the past and finding love with your good brother Egg. (Set a year or so before the tourney)
@imnotcryingyouare1
Isn't That What Being A Parent Is? -> Daeron x wife!reader with Egg and Rhea.
Let Me Sleep
@moonlitgraves
Need You Baby, Like I Breathe You Baby -> daeron grows bored with the jousting and crowds at the ashford meadow tourney. fueled by arbor red and overwhelming need, daeron pulls you away from the tourney grounds to have his way with you.
Take Me Back To Eden
@goonofthrones
A Moment of Respite -> Daeron Targaryen leads a troubled life, the only solace he has amongst everything is you, his wife.
@wolves-and-dragons
Sweet Dreams are Made of These -> While laying in bed with his wife, Daeron's beloved daughter comes in with claims of a terrifying nightmare. Daeron fears the potential that his dragon dreams have been passed onto his offspring to torment her for the rest of her days.
@escapic-mezzanine
My Moon, My Man -> An imperfect bride for a flawsome man – it was not a tragic match by any means, but the heavy shroud of expectations made affection morph into doubt. It felt like a choke, the duty imposed by House Rosby, tightening on the necks of Daeron and his wife.
Dim Refuge -> Life as Prince Daeron’s wife sometimes made you feel like the sky would fall on your head while you and your husband were just a pair of lambs sent to slaughter...
@foolishleclerc
Off The Record (F1 driver!Daeron) -> it was supposed to be just another interview. but the way he looks at her even when the cameras stop rolling says otherwise.
Wine-stained Words (modern! akotsk x the pitt) -> daeron targaryen arrives at the ER bleeding, charming, and quoting poetry no one asked for. she blames the alcohol, she doesn’t expect him to return the next day, clear-headed and still flirting.
Drunk on You -> after prophetic nightmares drive prince daeron targaryen to the brink of drowning himself in wine, his wife offers him a different remedy: her. what begins as stolen kisses to silence the craving soon becomes something deeper, fiercer, and far more addictive. because daeron doesn’t stop drinking, he simply finds something sweeter to be drunk on.
An Empty Cradle -> haunted by the thought that she cannot give him heirs, she expects daeron to resent her. instead, he reminds her that from the moment he first saw her, she was the only future he ever wanted.
@ukegjtwrite
We Are Still Here (Ao3 Link) -> Home, a familiar place, a familiar silence—until it is broken by the flutter of returning wings.
@nullmoon-s
Come Nightfall (Ao3 Link)-> The Ashford Tourney had been, frankly, a resounding disaster. Sheathed within the night does Daeron seek the company of Lord Ashford's eldest daughter—a girl of whom had haunted him in both dream and prose for many years—and deals with the morning after.
@sehaedazokla
In Turning Divine (Ao3 Link) -> your arranged marriage to prince daeron targaryen is distant at best. when your existence begins to bleed into the edges of the mad world he wishes to shield you from, he suddenly finds his hands and his head so very full.
@dreammfyre
Dream A Little of Me -> being married to prince daeron targaryen wasn't easy, not just because of his lifestyle—you knew he liked to drink, the good life. but the hardest part was dealing with the curse that had haunted him since birth, the dreams that kept him awake.
@erzsebetrosztoczy
Sleepless Dreams; Dreamless Sleep -> Still new to the married life, and to none other but a prince, you try to navigate yourself among the duties of a royal wife. Having Daeron as your husband, and Maekar as your father-in-law brings situations, you weren't prepared for. But your vision haunted husband tries best as he can, to be there for you. Even in the ordinary moments.
Fever Dreams
@thespottedcreature
Dreams and Exasperations -> Annoying your brother is the number one priority of your life, but this time, more comes out of a simple gesture than Lyonel's irritation.
@tcrgarien
Bound To Be -> when king daeron ii arranges a marriage between the concerningly lost eldest son of maekar targaryen, and the eldest daughter of daemon ‘the pretender’ blackfyre, the gods celebrate as the union they’ve been awaiting for finally takes place.
@blueskinnavi
A Good Husband -> Ahead of his wedding to his cousin, the woman he’s loved all his life, Daeron feels insecure.
@catbayunthestoryteller
Bespoke -> Modern Au
@goldenhoneyedwine
Just a Taste -> kissing is just like needle work or horseback riding - a skill that takes practice!
@scarlett-rivers
What Does the Dreamer's Wife Dream Of? (AO3 Link)-> Daeron's wife wakes to find out that the dream she was having was much more real than she thought.
Comfort For A Dreamer (AO3 Link)-> When an undesirable highborn lady is married to a drunkard, they form a bond that is not love. But after the tourney at Ashford, they both find themselves needing one another more than they'd previously thought.
Childhood Friends with Daeron
Overwhelmed Daeron
@night-scare
In Bloom (AO3 Link)-> Daeron dreams of a flower among the snow, his only reprieve from the terrible nightmares of death and destruction that he drowns in his cups to forget. At Ashford Meadow, on the eve of the Trial of Seven, he meets a woman who brings new meaning to his dreams of snowdrifts and blossoms.
@targaryenstar
Just Us -> daeron does not want fancy feasts and propriety for his name day, he just wants you.
Woven Souls -> little calmed the familial visions daeron was cursed with, except your sweet song.
@phythius
Drunken Confessions -> Daeron stumbled into your chambers, his senses dulled by wine, and pressed a written confession into your hand.
@lunsilun
Trial of The Seven -> taking care of injured Daeron after the trial.
@the-dendrophile-bookdragon
Lifeline -> Maekar has found his wayward heir and brought him back to Ashford against his will. But Daeron does not care for his father's distaste. It' his wife's worry he hates to see
@hyperfixatedhyperstressed
The 5 time Daeron and his wife woke the other up. And the one time they didn’t.
@silkaurum
Furtively -> on a quiet, hot summer day, you're waiting in your chambers for prince daeron, your childhood friend, your biggest secret, the man you shouldn't desire. what started as a childhood friendship has long since moved into forbidden territory, but in the shadow of the red keep, when your husband is busy elsewhere, you steal those moments that you can.
Eat, Drink, and Be Merry, For Tomorrow We Die -> for three moons, you have kept your pregnancy a secret. you know with certainty that the child is daeron's, not your husband's. but the weight of silence has grown too heavy to bear, and you have no choice left but to tell your beloved the truth.
@lilyswritings
Dragon Dreams -> you wake up to find your husband gone from your bed. it is not the first time his dreams have driven him out. it will not be the last.
@inkfables
Depollute Me, Gentle Angel -> your strained marriage to daeron targaryen takes an unexpected turn when your once-absent husband seeks to reach an understanding.
@moon-heart22
The Princess and The Dragon Part 1 -> As a princess from a foreign land you marry Daeron Targaryen and are afraid of him and your wedding night. His brother Aerion causes you a lot of trouble and makes your fears worse. Gods how lucky you are that all your fears are proven wrong.
The Princess and The Dragon Part 2 -> After giving birth to your twin sons, you and Daeron are over the moon. You also find out how good of a father Daeron actually is.
@non-picturesque
No.1 Party Anthem Part 1 -> What begins as polite professionalism, but slowly turns into late-night conversations and unexpected friendship—and when he finally finds comfort in her presence, the lines between duty, trust, and something deeper begin to blur.
@captainfern
Need -> your husband is brought to your chambers drunk, but not in the way you are used to (or, a sex pollen fic with our beloved dragon dreamer)
The 5 times Daeron and his wife woke the other up. And the one time they didn’t.
6.1K words
Wife!Reader, female!reader, mostly fluffy, some angst, alcohol use (obviously for our sweet lil tortured soul), implied smut, emotional distress, referenced mentions of death, soft intimacy, clingy Daeron, soft jealous Daeron, mutual devotion, supportive dad Maekar,
________________
You could feel yourself slowly waking up, feel each thing around you become more vivid. The heavy furs that lay across the bed cocooning you inside them, the softness of the silk sheets underneath you against your skin as your limbs began to test themselves out weakly. The consuming, comfortable heat that exuded from your husbands body as he lay so close to you that you could feel each time his chest rose with a breathe brush against your own body. With your eyelids still heavy and shut, your body instinctively gravitated towards the heat, towards comforting rhythm of his heart beating as your fingers found his chest, one of your legs slipping between his own to hook yourself onto him. Both already bare of any clothes from the night before, the immediate feel of his skin against your own made a faint shiver run up through your spine.
You felt the faint, almost ghosting touch of fingers trailing down your cheek, brushing any loose hairs from it to tuck behind your ear. Tracing a pattern along your jawline, down your neck and then reversing back upwards and along your cheekbone. A soft kiss pressed against your forehead, taking a moment to linger there as if completely breathing you in.
You tried to fight your eyes open, to properly see your husband in the morning light as it peaked through the drawn curtains like little spotlights of gold. To see the soft blues of his eyes in the calmness of the morning before the day and court life undoubtably wore you both down. Brush his sandy locks back down from sleep-frazzled mess, feel his skin under your fingers and watch his body react to your touch, trace the outline of his lips and draw him in for that first morning kiss as you buried yourself in the furs and blankets to hide from the day. You fought against the heaviness in your eyes for anything and everything Daeron Targaryen.
Your lashes started to flutter against your cheek and you caught the first faint blurry glimpses of the ends of his hair and the top of his chest, before fingers gently landed against your eyes, keeping them shut as you angled your head slightly back against the pillows, as if looking up to his face.
“Don’t open your eyes.” His voice still sounded deep and rough with sleep as he whispered against your ear, fingers going back to tracing your features, “I am enjoying how beautiful you are, so peaceful.” His lips brushed against your cheekbone, “I did not mean to wake you, but I could not bring myself to not touch your face, to see how real this dream is.”
Your hand flattened over his heart and you shifted so that each part of your bodies were pressed together, “No dream, my love, just us, just right here.” His hand gently rested against your neck, cupping your cheek and bringing his lips to your own. You felt him melt into it, knowing he could feel you doing the same as your hand lifted to curl into his hair. After a few seconds, you parted with his forehead staying pressed to your own and just existed in each others space, his eyes locked on you as if unable to look away
“Am I allowed to see you now?” Your tone was jesting but you meant your words, just wanting to finally look upon his face, “It feels so long since I’ve been able to.”
“And yet it was only a few hours.” He said with a laugh in the back of his throat.
“Any amount of time feels too long.”
Daeron’s hand skimmed down your body to grasp onto your waist, holding you firmly against him as his lips pressed against your own once more as chastely as he could ever manage, “How could I deny my dear wife’s desires?” He whispered against your lips as your eyes flickered open.
He was so close to you, all you could see was him. The gentle love almost bleeding out of his eyes, the upwards curve in the corners of his mouth, the relaxation and calmness in his face. You trailed your fingers across his hairline, tucking pieces of hair so not to obscure your complete view of him, before working down his jawline to run a thumb across his bottom lip and hold the side of his face in one hand, “There you are.”
The room was darker than you had thought it would be, the barest flickering of sunlight seeping through. The Keep, which usually hummed with movement and noise felt more still, even the noise from the city below had not fully penetrated in yet.
“You are awake early, are you alright?” Trying to keep your tone as gentle and not too quizzical for this early in the morning despite your concern. You had kept each other up late into the night, bodies moving against each other in unison. You could almost still feel where his hands had gripped onto your body and held you tightly against himself as pleasure overtook both of your minds and senses, until all you could think and feel was each other. So, for him to wake so early, you worried his sleep had been broken, been tormented, but you didn’t want to push him to retell or relive anything he was not yet ready to.
“I am fine, a dreamless night in your arms,” you were sure he could feel how your body almost deflated in relief, “It is the dream I awoke to I could not look away from. The most consistent one I’ve ever had, the only one I look forward to seeing.” His hand slipped down the skin of your waist to grip onto the leg you had slipped between his own, as the arm you found yourself using as a pillow curled up and around you fully.
“What time is it?”
“Still yet another hour before any maids or servants arrive to pester us into accepting the day.” You gripped into his side, nails lightly scratching into his skin, leaning forward to press a kiss into the hollow of his throat and along his collarbone.
Angling your head back, you looked up at him through your lashes, “How will we ever find away to spend this hour…”
Daeron’s body pushed forward against your own, knocking you from your side to your back, both hands finding a settlement on your body as his mouth attached itself to your own.
________
The room was dark when something stirred you from sleep. Beside you, you could feel the weight of Daeron’s body and feel one of his hands resting against your waist as if he had been searching for you in his sleep. When he returned that night, you had already been lost in your dreams, buried under the furs and waiting for his return. His dreams had been plaguing him the last few nights once more; when you first married, he’d hidden from them in his cups, threw himself into the oblivion to avoid them as long as he could and then suffered when they returned stronger. It was slow to begin with, before he started to come to you for comfort against the prophecies he’d see, the confusion and terror they’d leave him in; but from the first night he awoke in a cold sweat and limbs still in motion trying to fight away the figures in his dreams and reached for you beside him, wrapping himself around your body and letting words fall from his mouth, he found a new solace, a new way to cope.
The wine could leave him feeling cold, on the edge in anticipation that he would eventually have to fall back into his dreams, but lying with his ear pressed over your heart and lulling him back to reality and calm, he found it helped. There were still nights, like tonight, where the draw of oblivion in his cups was too much to resist, but you would not begrudge him that, not when you could see how he had tried. Tried to find less solace in them, reach for them less, or at least not as quickly. You’d seen how the last few nights had affected him, whatever he had seen and felt too fearful of to divulge even to you. You knew no matter how much wine he drank, he would return to you, drunk and clingy, but he would return and take that last moment before sleep took him in your arms, rather then forcing down wine until he dropped where he stood. It was only through the fog of sleep you’d heard him return tonight, felt the bed dip under his weight as he sought you out with his hand and drifted off.
Lying on your side had left you with your back facing Daeron as you craned your neck to peak across your shoulder and check on him. Just to see he was sleeping calmly, that he had a blanket over him against the chill in the air, that he’d remembered to take off his boots before trying to get into bed. A hand reaching carefully backwards out to him.
Your fingers met the skin of his back, shirt removed, the blanket pulled up as far as his waist. Daeron lay on his stomach, one arm outstretched to you and the other lay somewhere underneath the blankets; you moved backwards to trail the side of your foot down his leg to check, breeches and both boots removed, thankfully. But you were now wide awake watching him, listening to him. Listening, as much as you could, to his breathe with his face pressed into the pillow beneath him. You hated when he slept like this on the nights he spent with his cups.
Sitting up, you turned your body fully to face him, gently clasping onto his shoulder and abdomen as you carefully pushed his body. The pillow was already slightly propped against the headboard, so you wouldn’t be pushing him flat onto his back, but you just wanted to sleep knowing he could breathe soundly. When you’d managed to get him onto his side, Daeron’s hand reached out and grasped tightly onto your arm, eyes shooting open and only settling when he saw you before him.
“It’s alright, it’s only me.” You leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his clammy feeling temple, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“What is it? Are you alright?” His voice sounded slurred from both drink and sleep but he lifted his head from the pillow and both hands found purchase on your body.
“Daeron, I’m okay, everything’s alright. Im sorry, I was trying to move you. It scares me when you sleep face down after your cups.” You pressed another kiss to his forehead placatingly, soothing his hair down before reaching to pull the blanket higher up on him to take the chill off his skin.
Once settled, you lay back down closely to him again, lying on your back while his fingers came to interlock with your own. Daeron dragged himself closer to you, draping his body across your upper body and lying his head down on your chest, burying himself gently between your breasts, hearing your heart under his ear. His arm wrapped tightly around your body, tension easing out of him as your hands came to rest against his head fingers lightly scratching and stroking his scalp.
“Can I sleep face down here?”
________
Your body burned, that’s all you knew for sure. A sickness swept through you like a wave, knocking you to and fro. It had started simply, a pain in your head that lasted a few days, feeling like your mind was foggy. Daeron tried convincing you to remain in your shared quarters, sitting with you as he held a cold damp rag to your forehead. But you had duties to attend to, forcing yourself through the day as you could feel yourself getting more run down and exhausted. Vision going blurry, mouth feeling dry, cold shivers going through your veins while your body exuded a sweat inducing heat. You couldn’t remember how you found yourself lying on the cold stone floor of the corridor, your last thought had been of taking a bath and going to bed early, skipping the feast meant to take place tonight. The last thing you remember seeing was Daeron walking towards you down the corridor, a smile on his face to see you but worry in his eyes. Then you were on the floor. Your vision faded in and out, one second you saw only the ceiling above you, feeling rapid footsteps all around, the next Daeron’s face completely in front of you, saying words that you couldn’t make out through the ringing in your ears, watching him shout more words to the faceless figures that crowded around you. You felt his arms tightly encircle your body as he lifted you from the floor, head weakly falling to lean against his chest as Daeron kept you close to him and refused to let the guards who’d appeared from nowhere touch you or help him. The Keep passed by you in a blur as Daeron carried you somewhere, you could feel his heart beating rapidly, erratically, in his chest as your eyes felt like they were being seen shut by ships anchors.
You came in and out of consciousness for minutes, hours, days, you didn’t know how long your mind felt lost, head feeling too weak to lift. You saw maids coming and going by you, changing sheets when your fever had dampened them. Maesters swimming around you with this vial of that and that vial of this, doing only the Seven knows what. The only constant you always saw, was Daeron. He sat in a chair, body tense and rigid, at your bedside, watching your face, seeing how your body twitched under the sheets, ensuring the maesters were gentle with you, requesting fresher cooler water be brought by the servants so he could keep swapping the cold damp rag he would lay across your forehead. He remained in his chair, you didn’t know how long he sat there, worrying through your mental haze if he was looking after himself. Was he eating, sleeping, was he sitting plaguing himself with his prophetic dreams, running back through them thinking there was a sign he had missed? You wanted to reach out for his hand but it wouldn’t move. You drifted again.
When you felt yourself coming back too, the room felt cooler around you. The bed didn’t feel as uncomfortable and your head pounded less when your eyes moved under their closed lids, though you couldn’t bring them to open. Soft voices beside you drew your attention, the first thing you’d been able to hear somewhat clearly in what you assumed was days. Your hand was being held in a tight grip, the fingers that wrapped around your own having a tremble to them even though they were still against your skin.
“The maesters say the fever has broken, that she is seeming to be gaining strength back… it will be over soon, Daeron.” You could make out the voice of Prince Maekar near you, his tone softer than you thought he could go. The grip around your hand tightened.
“I love her, I wouldn’t survive it, father, I couldn’t be without her. However I managed to live before her, I couldn’t bare trying to pretend at that after her.” Daeron’s voice sounded hoarse, like he’d not properly spoken in days and was holding back so much. You wanted to reach out and be able to comfort him properly, you were still right there with him, “My dreams show me things I do not want to see, do not want to know are coming for us. And yet, this, this I do not see, am not warned about, have no way to prevent.”
“She will recover from this, she is recovering. The Seven know you have not let the maesters give anything less than King-worthy care to her.”
“How did you do it? I saw you, sitting at mothers bedside when she was ill and you did not break… you held her hand, spoke to her, watched her getting weaker and held yourself together. Yet, I sit here watching and being told she is getting better but feel like I am being torn apart.” Daeron’s voice strained itself as he spoke to his father.
“I didn’t. I loved your mother more than life; losing her tore a hole in me that…” Maekar took a moment of silence, “I had you and your siblings to think of; Aegon sitting there on my knee beside her, only just more then two years old, Rhae seven moons old in your arms beside me. Aerion, Aemon, Daella… you, all looking to me for comfort where you would usually turn to her. I held together for you, for them, for your mother. And you, will hold together now for her, she will come back to you.”
You felt the bed dip slightly as Daeron propped himself on his elbows, bringing your hand closed in his own to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
“Not a day goes by that I do not miss Dyanna, do not think of her.” Maekar’s voice sounded distant, as if lost in his own thought. You knew that Dyanna was not much spoken of, for the sadness that her passing brought them to this day. In this moment, it felt like what Daeron, and Maekar needed to hear, “I have heard what is being said at court, it has been dealt with, no one will speak such about you or your wife again, anyone who has dared will not be in her presence again when she wakes.” The hard tone usually heard in Maekar’s voice returned now. Whatever had happened, the Anvil had crushed.
“Regardless what they spew in their secluded corners, I would not do it. Heirs, or no heirs, if I lost her there would be no one after her.”
“I would not make you.”
The sound of a chair moving backwards and soft footfall leaving the room gave you the impression of Maekar’s exit, Daeron’s hand still locked around yours as he pressed it now against his forehead and dropped a kiss against your wrist.
“End this nightmare, my love, wake. Look upon me again, let me see your eyes.” Daeron pleaded into your wrist, feeling you twitch under his fingers and looking at you desperately. You summoned all the strength you’d gained back and prised your eyes open blearily, seeing him before you. Eyes glassy and tired, hair unkempt from how often he’d ran his hands through it trying to soothe himself, a mockery attempt at recreating the feeling of your own fingers against his scalp. His lips pressed firmly into your wrist again, a relieved yet guarded smile curving at the corners, “There you are.”
He moved some of the hair stuck to your face away as he rose from the seat and moved to lay on his side at the edge of the bed, reeling you into his body and almost letting out a relieved sob as the feel of your skin did not radiate dragon fire heat against him any longer, “I’m sorry, I had to wake you, I had to.”
Your head rested against his chest as a hand weakly trailed his arm, feeling the material of the thin white shirt he was wearing, “I love you too.” Daeron’s lips pressed a solid kiss against the top of your head, remaining there, holding you tightly and breathing you in, convincing himself you were still with him.
________
The room had been filled with low light from the dying hearth when you entered, the warmth of it ebbing away the chill that had rattled your bones in the Great Hall, had skimmed your skin as the lords of high noble houses spent the evening preening themselves in front of you, for you.
Daeron had left early, slipped out through the crowd and disappeared back to your chambers. You closed the door behind you quietly, feeling the tension dip from you as locked it, hearing the faint noise of loud voices and music carrying through the corridors.
He caught your eye instantly across the room, Daeron was lying asleep on his side, facing towards your empty place beside him, one hand resting stretched out across it as if he had fallen asleep waiting for you and not stopped. He always did this, even when he didn’t mean to.
Your motions were quiet as you quickly shed the intricate gown you’d been wearing that night. One that showed off your status, your place, the wealth of House Targaryen, highlighted every aspect of your beauty that Daeron adored. The one that had almost led to your husband deciding you would both skip the feast entirely, stay locked away in your chambers together with the dress lying elsewhere in the room forgotten about. Donning a thin, somewhat sheer nightgown and hair removed of all the pins and jewels that had scattered through it, you crossed the room without hurry, shedding the weight of the evening with each step, until at last you reached the bed.
For a moment, you just watched Daeron sleep, saw softened line of his mouth in his seemingly, thankfully, dreamless sleep, saw the absence of tension that never quite left him when he was awake.
And then, gently, you reached for him, fingers brushing the skin of his arm, light but certain.
“Daeron.”
He woke quickly, but without alarm, a quiet inhale and slight furrow of his brow, and then his eyes opened, finding you at once.
“You’re here,” he murmured, the unbidden relief seeing you there before him, stripped back of all the courtly finery so it was just you and him in your basest forms
“I am.”
He shifted immediately, hand finding yours finally, the touch warm and grounding as his thumb brushed slowly over your knuckles, almost as though he needed the reassurance of it.
“It is late,” he added softly.
“I know.”
He studied you for a moment, sleep fading as something more thoughtful settled in.
“You woke me,” he said. “What is it? Are you alright”
You didn’t answer him right away, taking a moment to study his face and his eyes. Instead, slipping into the bed beside him, turning toward him fully, knees brushing beneath the covers. You gently lifted your hand to his face, softly ghosting your thumb under his eye and watching him melt to the touch.
“You were watching me tonight, I could feel your eyes,” you said, almost in a whisper.
He went still. Not guarded, but attentive, studying you as much as you were him.
“Yes,” he said quietly.
Your thumb continued to trace a slow line along his cheek, soothing rather than searching.
“Yet, you didn’t come to me.”
A small pause.
“No.”
“Why?”
The question was soft, no edge to it, no accusation; just an opening for him, waiting for him. Daeron exhaled slowly, the breath controlled in a way that seemed like he was holding himself differently, his gaze dropping for a moment to where your hands were joined.
“I didn’t want to make anything difficult for you.”
The expression softened in your at once, his tone washing over you and the urge to pull him into you growing.
“For me?”
“He wouldn’t leave alone,” Daeron said, eyes dropping from yours to look at your locked hands, “And if I had come over—”
“I would have been glad for it, Daeron” you said gently, slightly firming your touch on his cheek to angle his head back and make him look at you again
His brow creased faintly.
“I didn’t know that.”
“You do,” you corrected, just as softly, “You just didn’t trust it.”
You saw you words land, not heavily, but truly and he didn’t argue; instead, his fingers tightened slightly around yours, as though anchoring himself.
“I didn’t like it,” he admitted.
“I know.”
“I didn’t like the way he looked at you, any of them.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t like that you had to stand there and let them preen themselves at you as if they had some right to you, to keep the court and the council appeased.”
You shook your head against the pillow, thumb never leaving his skin or stopping its motions.
“I don’t want them,” you said. “I bore as much as I could.”
His gaze lifted to yours again, searching, his body almost instinctively edging closer to yours and bridging the gap between you. You smiled faintly through the darkening room to him, something warm and certain.
“I stayed where I had be to be. Until you’d come to me.”
His breath caught, just slightly.
“I didn’t,” he said.
“No,” you agreed. “But you could have.”
“I almost did.”
“Then why didn’t you?” He hesitated, you could feel him holding himself back, the muscles in his jaw clicking under your palm. Then, quietly, “Because I didn’t trust myself not to take you away from everything else completely. Refuse to share you with anyone.”
Your expression softened even more at that.
“And would that have been so wrong?”
“But they,” he started, thinking of the expectations for him, for you, not with each other but from the life you lived.
“I didn’t ask about them.”
Silence lingered for a moment.
“…No,” he admitted.
“No,” you echoed gently.
Shifting closer, the last of the space between you being chased away, your forehead brushed lightly against his,
“You never have to share me. And you don’t have to be careful with me, not like that.” you murmured against his lips, “Not when it comes to wanting me, reaching for me.”
His hand released your own to clasp onto your waist tightly, not possessive or claiming but rather steady and grounding.
“I always want you,” he said.
“I know.”
“Even when I shouldn’t.”
“You always should,” you corrected, “With me, that you are always allowed.”
That undid something in him, felt it in the way his grip tightened needily, pulling so that every inch of your bodies could touch the other; you saw it in the way his shoulders eased the tension they’d held, as though he were finally letting go of something he’d been forcing down.
“I thought you could be enjoying it,” he admitted after a moment as your smile turned more loving, eyes placating. The hand on his cheek dropping to cup his neck and bring his face fully to your own
“Daeron,” you leaned in, pressing a quiet kiss to his mouth, “I was waiting for you,” you whispered against him.
The words settled into him like warmth.
“You should have had me,” he said.
“I do,” you answered simply and with complete certainty, for that was the truth of it, not something fragile but a something assured, “I’m here,” you murmured as he watched you, his eyes quieter now, steadier.
“I know.”
Your thumb brushed along his jawline as his arm came around you without thought, holding you as though the space between you had never existed, as if one being forced into two bodies.
For a moment, nothing more was said, it didn’t need to be as his breathing slowed, evening out again as sleep began to pull at him once more.
But just before he drifted, he murmured, softer now, “I don’t like it.”
You smiled faintly against him, hand resting over his heart, “You don’t have to.”
“It won’t change anything.”
“No,” you agreed breathily, in a way wishing his dislike for the attention forced on you would be enough to dissuade the courtiers, “It won’t.”
A pause.
Then, quieter still, “You’re mine.”
You tilted your head down just enough to press a soft kiss against his chest, over his heart. A sort reciprocating kiss pressed against your head, “And you’re mine,” you replied, his hold tightening—certain, grounded, at peace.
And this time, when sleep took him again, it came without resistance, but with you there, hand not reaching and waiting, but knowing you were always there.
________
It was the twitching that jolted the bed which roused you first, the shaking of Daeron’s body as he slept. You could hear him mumbling incoherently into the darkness, felt as his hand reached out grabbing at the sheets around you, just missing being able to grasp onto your nightgown.
“No… no, no more, away,” his voice panicked in his sleep, breathless as he flinched, moving with no real notion of where to or what for.
You shifted closer to him, mindful of his limbs as they twitched, catching his hand as it shot out towards you. You brought it to your chest and held it against your heart, his fingers loosely latching onto the fabric of your nightgown.
Sitting up in the bed beside him, your hand rested against his check, steadying him and lightly holding him in place, feeling how his body trembled under your touch from whatever he was seeing.
“Daeron,” you gently shushed him, hand stroking along his bare chest soothingly, “Daeron, it’s alright, you’re okay,” his fingers tightened in your nightgown, “My love,” Daeron’s eyes shot open as you spoke, wildly scanning the room as if not seeing you immediately, “you’re okay, we’re okay.” You continued as he gathered himself back, came back to himself enough to see you.
His body jolted upwards, arms wrapping tightly around you and dragging you into his chest as if wanting to pull you inside his very body. Fingers splayed outwards trying to cover as much of you as possible, the feel of his heartbeat was rapid and his breathing shuddered. You could hear him faintly, breathlessly whispering your name over and over into your hair, dragging in breaths through his nose as it pressed against you and taking in the smell of you and only you. For a moment, you didn’t speak, just let him ground himself in the feel of your body, recognise your heartbeat and breathing against him. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist where you sat, squeezing tighter every now and then when he seemed to be drifting back into the panic and making him focus on only you.
“It’s okay. It’s just us, only you and me, in our chambers, our bed. Just us.” Your voice was calm and quiet, speaking into his chest to let him feel your breath and lips moving on his skin.
“I saw,” he shuddered briefly again, tightening his hold, “I saw you, in my dream. There were dragons, two, a white one and a golden one. They were on top of you, I couldn’t,” he stopped for a moment and pulled back to see your face, “I couldn’t get to you, I couldn’t get by them to you, they wouldn’t move.”
You shushed him again, hand going to his hair and stroking it as you began to shift you both to lay down in bed. His arms stayed clasped around your body as he followed you down, head resting over your chest, trying to position his body in a way which covered as much of your own as he could, as if shielding you from the dragons with himself.
“It’s okay, my love,” you kissed the top of his head gently, hand still stroking through his hair and scratching circles into his scalp, “I’m okay, we are okay.”
“I won’t lose you.” His voice sounded the steadiest it had since he woke, breathing for a moment evening out in conviction, “my dreams, they, these prophecies if that’s what they are, they come true. I see it happen, cursed to know but not understand until too late. They have never meant anything more than death, pain. But I can’t… this one I cannot,” he paused and turned his face into the skin of your chest and said nothing for a moment, neither did you as he gathered his thoughts, just continuing the motion of your fingers, “I can’t lose you, not you.”
For a moment, words felt like they failed you. You had known all through your marriage of how his dreams tormented him, how the fear of what’s to come had once led him to constant states of oblivion, now causing him to cling to you in panic before he reaches for the cups, though they still sometimes won out when the fear grew too paralysing. You knew that telling him it was just a dream would not help, would be insignificant because his dreams weren’t the dreams of an ordinary man. So you just held him tighter, kissed his head and spoke gently in his ear, reminded him you were there, that this moment was real, this was now, not later. That you love him. His breathing slowed but the grip did not loosen, he did not move from covering you as much as he could from the dragons he feared would come.
You didn’t know how long you both lay there, the sky leaking through the curtains still dark outside.
“I’m sorry I woke you, my love.” His voice was quiet against your skin.
“No, don’t be, I want you to wake me. You can always wake me.”
________
The dawn was just barely breaking, soft light cracking through the darkness of the room as you and Daeron slept curled into one another’s bodies. You using his outstretched arm as a pillow, head tucked beneath his chin and his hand held your waist. Breathing slow and steady against each other, dreamless sleeps in the tight embrace. You were both so lost in your sleep that neither of you stirred as the slow creak of your chamber door opening, almost echoing in the silence, did not rouse you; the door opening a fraction as bodies slipped through and closed it again, footsteps shuffling across the stone floor towards the bed. Jumbled whispers merge together as they drew closer, splitting up for one to go to your side of the bed and the other Daeron’s as you and he slept in the middle together.
Hands gripped at the sheets and used them to drag themselves up onto the beds, crawling across the mattress as sneakily as they could while holding in the little laughs of those whose plan had been successful.
A hand gripped your leg for a moment and you jolted in Daeron’s arms, eyes instantly open and locked onto the two figures before you and your husband, who’d been roused by your sudden movement.
“Mama, we sleep with you and Kepa.” The words were not a question as your twins shifted themselves closer to you and Daeron, now more alert and a smile on his face when he saw his two year old son crouched beside him on the bed.
Your daughter on your side fumbled her way up onto you, trying to prize her way in between you and Daeron’s bodies and be a part of the embrace, swiftly being followed by her brother. Daeron shifted backwards, hand not releasing your waist as the twins settled down on the bed looking up at you both.
Naerys with her golden hair spread wildly across Daeron’s arm as she, like you, used it as a pillow, her back pressed against his chest, staring over the top of her brothers head at you with a smile spreading from her mouth up into her lavender eyes. Jacaerys, white blonde hair tickling your chin as he buried himself into your chest, arms wrapping as far as they could around your neck, had already closed his eyes, the matching blues to Daeron’s own already sinking into sleep again.
Daeron peered at you over the top of your children’s heads, fingers digging into your waist as the corners of his mouth curved upwards, before looking down at them both, his two little dragons.
When Naerys had, like her brother eased back to sleep, Daeron whispered over to you.
“I had another dream,” he spoke softly, “a golden dragon and a white dragon on top of you.”
“Well, at least I know that you will be stuck beneath them with me.” You jested to him as your hand lightly stroked some of Naerys’s hair behind her ear before moving to skim Jacaerys’s face.
“There was another, smaller golden dragon alongside them.” The smile, the happiness, and the anticipation bled into Daeron’s voice as he watched you look up from your children. Smiling back over at him, you pressed a kiss to your fingertips and reached over to press it to your husbands lips.
Can’t explain it but that one 3 second clip of Daeron Targaryen walking (see: swaggering) into the tent with his hood up over his head, yeah that is on the same level as Aragorn opening the doors to Helms Deep for me
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