rhaenyra last words to jace being "[If i die] then you at last will be king" as if jace's ambition had been that! as if jace had not constantly gone to protect her claim and his! we knew there was a transparent wall between rhaenyra and jace. she can't see how at risk he is without her, and he can't see how much it weights her to be a woman monarch. but jace can lock her up and ser loren will heed jace first because he's a man and he's going to war, and she can hurt jace easily and undermine him too anywhere else like we saw all of s2. it's just so heartbreaking to see that they will never get over this wall and they will never truly understand the other. rhaenyra will never get over from jace locking her up so easily and will probably distrust her KG now. and because she never gave jace any chances, he goes to the gullet to risk his life because it's the only way he can see he can act
the way i made my coworker watch the scene of daemyra taking the throne with me multiple times (even though she hasn't watched a bit of house of the dragon) because i NEEDED her to witness how powerful (and hot) rhaenyra and daemon are 😭😭😭
It's an approved headcanon in my head that the most close-knit Targaryen couples have this habit of cuddling a bit like dragons do with their heads, touching each other head-on, etc. This is one thing I love about show Daemyra and endorse as Headcanon for Fire and Blood. But I can imagine other Targaryen couples having this kind of very animal affection, some more than others. I find it so cute.
Hi, it's me again! I know I've been asking for a lot (what is this, the third time? Fourth?) But I love the way you write Daemyra and I have so many ideas for them. Could you rewrite the scene where she tells him about the Song of Ice and Fire, so that he doesn't start choking her? (Yes I'm still upset about that, yes I know it's petty.) I think it would be really interesting if instead of getting angry, like he usually does, he just kind of... breaks. He'd already been through a lot that day, what with losing his brother and his daughter, and I think learning that his brother never told him about the prophecy would kinda be the last straw for him. Let me know what you think, and thanks for being so kind with my other requests, I really appreciate it.
hi!!!
yes, totally. i don't think it's petty at all to still be upset about that! it was so ooc for daemon, especially in regards to his relationship with rhaenyra. i'm still upset about that scene too so i'd love to rewrite it.
thank you for your requests and for being patient while i write them! i'm heading to bed now but i'll make the pinned post with requests tomorrow like i said i would.
i wish daemon would have had his vision after he'd already bent the knee to rhaenyra, because the order suggests the vision was the final piece he needed to fully support her. if it'd been done the other way, his vision would have confirmed his own thoughts and feelings instead of potentially influencing them.
request by: @midlandslady2
a rewrite of daemon x alys' conversation where he says he wants rhaenyra to rule by his side.
"And how fare you, Prince of Nightmares and Dastardly Deeds?"
A scowl marred Dameon's face as he looked up from the edge of crumbling rock where he rested, his jaw clenched when Alys Rivers announced her arrival. She met his gaze with a smug grin, her severely straight raven hair parted to reveal eyes far too wide and seemingly endless. He quickly averted her stare and resumed sharpening the ax in his hand, the clang of iron against stone harsh and aggressive.
"It appears not too well," she said, her voice thick with mock concern.
Daemon continued to ignore her after she sat down and moved in close to study him, a cloying mix of peppery spices and something burnt wafting from her and assaulting his nose. She moved to touch his cheek and Daemon caught her wrist and shoved her hand back, returning to his work with a grunt, much to her apparent amusement.
"I am certain there are far more constructive ways for you to fill your time," he told her, counting each whack to remain focused on the task at hand and not the intrusive thoughts telling him to drive the tool into her skull.
"And I could say the same for you," she argued, leaning back using her arms. "You look awful, by the way—dark circles, sickly complexion, hair matted like a rat's nest. What will Rhaenyra say when her husband returns and has aged so," she trailed off, subjecting him to the slow, scrutinizing drag of her eyes along his body before tutting and shaking her head, "...poorly."
Daemon stood and without hesitation pointed his ax between Alys’ eyes. "I haven’t time for you, witch. Keep her name out of your filthy mouth and address her properly as your queen.”
Alys' lips curled at the insult. She retrieved an apple from her pocket and cleaned it using her sleeve.
It was uncertain to Daemon at what point it occurred, but the halls, once filled with men meandering to and from the courtyard, had gradually become quiet. The sounds of splitting wood and tools scraping were absent; instead, an insidious silence replaced it. The sky had shifted as well, no longer the cloudless cerulean of mid-day but the deep blackish-blue of a starless sea that engulfed him.
"I see. So you are worried." Alys inspected the piece of fruit and took a hefty bite, indifferent towards the change in scenery. "Worried that she'll abandon you. Leave you here to rot once she realizes how pathetic—"
"I am not—" Daemon's nostrils flared, his weapon still leveled at her face. "You know nothing."
"And pray tell, what is it I don't understand, Daemon?" she pushed, unfazed by the hatchet aimed at her. "What is it I can't already see inside of that arrogant, dense, vain head of yours?"
"She cannot succeed—she cannot rule without me."
In the midst of her last mouthful, Alys choked, the apple tumbling to the ground once laughter overtook her. The wind whistled between the gaps of bare branches and joined in her merriment, as though it too thought little of him.
"And what do you know of loyalty?" Daemon asked, his tone even yet abrasive. "What do you know of devotion? Confined within this castle, haunting the halls with your childish bag of tricks and horrid tonics. You, Alys Rivers,” he stepped closer, “know nothing of me, my mind, or my heart. And you never will. Because you—a creature committed to nothing but torment—do not possess any of it; not a mind, let alone a heart.”
Alys came to an abrupt stop, as if someone suddenly cut the strings of a puppet. The air stilled and she tilted her head, her eyes boring into his.
Satisfied with her response, Daemon continued.
"I am Rhaenyra's shield. I am her armor. As long as I draw breath, no harm will befall her. This is how to ensure her ascension. And that is why I must do my part."
"What?" Alys scoffed. "Become a pawn, a knight, in this game? And what if you fail? What then? Give up your life for hers?"
"If necessary."
"And what of your dear wife? And your children?"
At this, Daemon’s grip faltered and he shook his head, his brow furrowed. "Sacrifice is but a necessity of war. I live on through them." He was the one that uttered the words, but they sounded rehearsed and distant as they hung there in the void between them.
Alys inspected him further, as if there were stories there, written between the folds of his skin that she was desperate to devour.
“You're awfully dreary, you know,” she finally said with a sigh. “Death, devotion, and such.”
Daemon glowered at her, feeling somewhat exposed in a manner he was not accustomed to. "Well, then. I am sorry my life does not have much to offer as a source of entertainment."
"Oh, don't be.” Alys rose and yawned while she stretched, the heavy hush that once blanketed them dissipating in an instant. She nudged Daemon’s ax with the back of her hand and it fell out of his hold and onto the ground. “I'm plenty entertained."
Within a second, the sun broke through the fathomless dark, and the sounds and smells of workers tending to the rebuilding of Harrenhal were once more present.
Daemon knelt to retrieve the tool, irritated by her theatrics, while she continued.
"And for the record, don't underestimate the will of the Gods. Perhaps one day they’ll work in your favor."
"Oh, is that so?” he asked, humoring her. “Which ones?"
Alys shrugged and turned to leave. "The ones who decide to listen."
I was wondering if you could rewrite the funeral/coronation scene from episode 10, maybe with more dialogue for Daemon and Rhaenyra. I would love to see Rhaenyra say something about how she had lost her only daughter, or tell Daemon that she would have named her Visenya, or something along the lines of that. Sorry, I know I just asked for a Daemyra fic. I’ve just had a lot of ideas for them and you’re the only person I know who writes for them. If you don’t have time or don’t want to that’s fine! No pressure! Sorry again for making so many requests.
hi!
omg you're totally fine! i appreciate the requests so please don't worry. this actually fits well with the other one you requested...would you mind if i write this one first and the other after? they can be companion pieces!
i added your request to this kind of wip queue i have on my blog but i'll make a pinned post soon so folks know what has been requested and where i am in the process.
Can you rewrite Daemon’s visions to include one of him and Rhaenyra after/during their stillborn daughter’s birth in episode 10? ILove your Daemyra rewrites so far, I hope you decide to do some more!
hi! oooh yes, definitely! that's a scene i'd love to explore, especially from daemon's perspective.
i will work on it once i'm finished my other request. thank you for enjoying my rewrites! ❤️
the mirrored expressions of horror from both rhaenyra and daemon when faced with the consequences of their actions this episode really showed how far they're both willing to go for the sake of her throne.
daemon beheading a loyal lord who did nothing but follow his orders to secure the support of the riverlords and rhaenyra allowing vermithor to massacre a group of people in the hopes of finding suitable riders. in both scenarios, they knowingly led these people to their demise but did so for the sake of their cause.
they did what they believed was necessary but not without some trace of remorse. truly two halves of one whole.
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