— A HELPING HAND
PAIRING — Prince Daeron Targaryen x fem!Reader // Dayne!OC
SUMMARY — You move to Summerhall after your aunt's death to help your Targaryen uncle with his many children. Once you're there, you grow the most fond of your cousin Daeron.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — The request was about Targaryen Reader but I changed it because I wanted a break from the targcest and I hope I won't be hated for such a big change. 🥲 It also made sense to me for the Reader to be a Dayne because I'm not sure if an important Princess like Baelor's daughter would be sent to Summerhall to play a nanny. She is Daeron's cousin from his mother's side but I did not focus on her looks. I also really enjoyed writing a Reader from the House I haven't written for before. ⭐
WARNINGS — incest (cousins)
WORD COUNT — 4,680
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
A HELPING HAND
After the death of your aunt, Lady Dyanna, your father became very worried about his brother-in-law. Prince Maekar was left alone with six children after all and half of them were still very young.
You were a teenager when your father’s sister died. You really loved your aunt, therefore you were deeply saddened and you often wondered how your cousins were doing without her.
On that day your father found you in the Starfall’s gardens as he smiled at you. You greeted him with a rather cold expression but your family was used already to your lack of enthusiasm when it came to most things. It was not that you were exceptionally rude or causing trouble but you were of a rather grumpy nature.
“My darling, I want to discuss something with you,” your father told you and you raised an eyebrow at him as he chuckled. “Your mother and I were thinking that perhaps you should move to Summerhall if Prince Maekar agrees. You would help him with the younger children and running the place. It would teach you how to be the Lady of the castle and living with the Targaryens would open many new doors for you. Who knows? You might find a very noble husband,” he pointed out. “What do you think?”
“Sounds reasonable,” you shrugged your arms. “And Summerhall is not too far away, so I could still be home quite often. Have you written to Prince Maekar already?”
“Not yet, I wanted your permission first,” your father explained and you nodded. “So? Do I get it?” He inquired.
“Yes, you do. I have just nodded, have I not, Father?” You sighed and went back to reading your book.
You enjoyed Summerhall more than you expected. Prince Maekar was rarely intervening when it came to you, which meant you were given a lot of freedom. He was never commenting when your dresses were too low cut or when you were spending too much coin on flowers whenever he had to throw a feast. In fact, he was glad that he didn’t have to deal with those things anymore. It was mostly you and Daella picking up decorations and sending out invitations.
He would never say it out loud but he was fond of you. You had a similar nature to him, therefore you two often commented on things by giving each other meaningful looks and no words were needed. You were good with his children – both young and old adored you. And it felt really nice to still have someone from the Dayne family around. It was as if his wife hadn’t truly left because some small part of her was still around. And perhaps it was the reason why the kids loved you – you were their mother’s kin.
You were his oldest son’s age, yet you felt as if you were responsible for him as well. Prince Daeron was plagued by so-called dragon dreams – a rare Targaryen condition. To deal with them, he was turning to wine despite his young age. You were often scolding him about the amount he was consuming and you suggested he should be writing his dreams down to take a new, rational look once they were nothing but ink on paper.
Prince Aerion was slightly younger than you but he was suffering from yet another Targaryen condition, although this one was less rare. It was madness. Most of the time he was just a spoiled and arrogant prick you would scoff at but oftentimes his eyes would darken ominously and his behaviour was getting really concerning. He was never threatening to you, though, most likely because he viewed you as his kin. However, you hated the way he treated servants around the castle and often scolded him for it.
Prince Aemon was basically living inside the castle’s library. You made sure to bring him food and force him to spend time outside sometimes, so he could get some fresh air. He liked you because you were listening to his long rants about things he had read about. You were nodding your head and asking questions, which was proof enough for him that you had been actually listening.
Princess Daella adored you as she was following you around the castle, sometimes acting like your assistant. She loved to get sassy with her brothers and berate them alongside you. She wanted to wear what you were wearing, brush her hair the same way you did and she loved to talk about young knights and squires with you.
The youngest children who needed you the most were Prince Aegon and Princess Rhae. Rhae had even called you her Lady Mother a few times. It was no wonder because she was spending most of her days in your arms, being carried around the castle. Prince Aegon would run around you two and talk to you about every little nonsense he thought of, his squeaky voice causing you headaches but you were smiling at him and caressing his head.
You loved them all.
You loved Rhae and Aegon as if they were your own children. You loved Daella and Aemon like your own siblings. Between Aerion and you there was a slight distance but you still loved him like a cousin that he was to you.
And you loved Daeron. But it was a different kind of love.
From the moment you saw him, really. Dirty blond hair long enough to be tied in the back, the dreamy eyes behind the drunken haze. The slurring voice in which he greeted you at Summerhall. There was something oddly charming about him; something cosy, too. He was not like most oldest sons you had met. Your own brother was a complete opposite of him – responsible, honourable, trying very hard to impress your father and prove his worth.
Daeron was a disappointment but he didn’t seem to be very bothered, too consumed with fighting off his nightmares. Perhaps it was because you were young and naive but you felt sorry for him and you hoped to help him. Despite your grumpy attitude, you had a good heart. One more thing you had in common with your Targaryen uncle.
Because you were the same age as Daeron, you were spending most of your time with him. The normal time, at least. Perhaps the little ones and Daella were around you more often but you weren’t your true adult safe with them.
Daeron knew the real you.
Prince Maekar hated throwing feasts but with so many children, they were happening quite often. Daeron, Aemon and Aegon didn’t care about celebrating their name days but his daughters and Aerion – especially Aerion – expected grand parties to be thrown for the occasion.
Thankfully, Prince Maekar had you by his side now.
It was Prince Aerion’s name day and you made sure that he would be pleased. The grand hall was decorated with Targaryen colours and there were dragon sculptures on every table. The biggest one of them was even breathing fire once in a while.
“How did you make it possible, dear cousin?” You heard Prince Daeron’s voice behind you as you smiled, your heart skipping a beat.
You turned around to meet his soft gaze. He was holding a goblet of wine and staring at your dress. It was mostly black because that was the dress code you had come up with yourself. But it had a purple lace decorating it, the colour of your House. On your neck there was a necklace that had once belonged to his late mother – a blazing star.
“We ordered it from Essos,” Daella answered proudly. As always, she stood by your side.
“Was my brother worth the price?” Daeron chuckled.
“We had a discount,” you answered slyly.
“And what did you do to get it?” He raised an eyebrow as he sipped from the goblet of wine.
“It’s my sweet secret,” you teased and Daella furrowed her brows, not fully understanding the conversation.
“That man who makes them turned out to be a traitor of the crown. He escaped Westeros after the Blackfyre rebellion. (Y/N) threatened him and we got a discount,” the young Princess explained and you laughed.
“Daella! No one was supposed to know,” you reminded her and she blushed, looking down.
“Well, well, well…” Daeron snorted and caressed his sister’s hair. “Honesty is a good trait, my sister. Threatening people is not,” he looked up at you and you bit on your lower lip.
“We have a dragon breathing fire,” you pointed out.
“Aerion seems to be mesmerised by it,” Daeron agreed with a chuckle as he pointed at his brother with his chin. Prince Aerion was staring at the sculpture in awe. “I hope he doesn’t try something dangerous with it, which could lead to burning us all.”
“The decorations are rather flammable,” you realised. “We should keep an eye on him.”
“Will do,” Daeron finished his wine and nodded at you with a smirk before walking away to stand closer to his brother.
When he was on his way, a befriended Lord approached him.
“Long time no see,” Lord Borrys Morrigen nodded. Daeron nodded back and patted his back. “How are you?”
“Rather good. You, my friend?”
“Perfectly well. My father is on his death bed now and soon I will inherit the castle,” Borrys chuckled. Daeron laughed at that. “Who was that young woman I saw you speaking to?”
“My cousin, Lady (Y/N) Dayne. The one who moved here after my mother’s passing. I’ve been telling you about her at the tavern,” Daeron reminded his friend.
“Ah, yes,” Borrys turned around to take a better look at you. “How old is she?”
“My age,” Daeron answered and furrowed his brows. “Why?”
“Well, if I am to become the Lord of my father’s castle, I do need a Lady Wife,” Borrys laughed but this time Daeron did not.
“I don’t think she would be a good match,” he said as something stirred within him.
For some reason, imagining Lord Borrys even doing as little as casually flirting with you, caused his blood to boil.
“Why not? Is she spoiled?” Borrys asked and Daeron’s face flushed.
“How dare you?!”
“Seven Hells, my Prince, I was only teasing!” Borrys laughed nervously. “What is wrong with you?”
“It is my cousin you’re speaking of,” Daeron reminded him.
“Forgive me.”
“You can talk to her if you want to,” Daeron shrugged his arms, pretending to care less than he truly did. Perhaps he had overreacted indeed. “But I have warned you.”
Intrigued, Lord Borrys approached you. You greeted him with an unpleasant look from head to toe. You didn’t know personally every guest you had sent an invitation to, therefore he was a stranger to you.
“Lady Dayne?” Lord Borrys asked with a smile.
“Indeed. And you are…?”
“Prince Daeron’s friend,” he introduced himself.
“Do my cousin’s friends not bear names of their own?” You asked and Daella giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.
Lord Borrys’ cheeks turned crimson red.
“I… I am Lord Borrys Morrigen,” he introduced himself.
“A crow,” you smirked.
“Um… Yes, my Lady,” he struggled to find words.
“Why did you want to speak to me?” You asked.
Poor Lord Borrys had no idea anymore, to be honest.
“I simply wondered about you, my Lady. I have been told you were the one to organise this feast,” he replied.
“Indeed but it was with the help of my sweet cousin Princess Daella,” your facial expression softened in an instant when you looked down at the girl to caress her head.
“Well… I just wanted to say it is a grand feast indeed…”
“Thank you,” you nodded at him.
Thankfully, that very moment Prince Maekar waved at you to go to him, so you excused yourself to rush to your uncle’s side.
“Yes, Uncle?” You asked him.
“What did Morrigen want from you?” Maekar furrowed his brows.
“Honestly, I have no idea,” you rolled your eyes.
“Don’t bother yourself with him,” Maekar mumbled out. “He is good for nothing.”
You smiled to yourself. Your uncle’s opinions were often harsh and judgemental but rarely wrong. He felt responsible for you now and he made sure you were not being courted by men who were below you. He treated and loved you like his own child.
Prince Maekar left Summerhall for a fortnight to pay someone an important visit. He was a bit nervous because as much as he trusted you, he knew that you wouldn’t be able to run the castle on your own, especially without the help of any of his sons. Daeron was good for nothing, Aemon probably wouldn’t even realise his father was gone. Aerion on the other hand was very excited to be in charge alongside you but Maekar didn’t trust him.
At least he didn’t have to worry about Daella, Aegon and Rhae. They would be taken care of very well by you.
You truly felt ready to take over even more responsibilities as usual, feeling the thrill of the challenge. You loved being praised for being capable and responsible. Such comments brought you lots of pride.
However, you quickly realised how exhausted you truly were. The servants were bothering you with a million questions a day, the younger cousins were constantly all over you, needy for your attention as usual and you also had to make sure Aerion wasn’t tormenting others too much during his father’s absence.
You couldn’t wait for your uncle to be back, so you’d have fewer duties. But you’d still be burdened with many, after all…
It was the first time you understood that you needed a break.
Massaging your temples after finally managing to put Rhae to sleep, you knocked upon the door leading to Daeron’s chambers. Without waiting for his answer, you entered them as you winced.
“It stinks in here,” you commented, moving to the window to open it.
Daeron was in bed, his hair ruffled and eyes hazy. He sat up and squinted at you.
“What ‘re you doin’ ‘ere?” He mumbled out.
“I wanted to speak with you but I see you are in a rather awful state,” you placed your hands on your hips. “How much have you been drinking lately?”
“The dreams are worse than usual,” Daeron revealed, rubbing his eyes.
“Are you writing them down like I suggested?”
He nodded.
“They make no sense,” he explained. “Read them yourself,” he pointed at his desk.
You approached it and read his messy, smudged notes. They were about three dragons and a girl walking out of the fire.
“It could mean anything,” you shrugged.
“That’s why it’s so scary,” he admitted. “What did you want to talk about?” He asked, wrapping a blanket tighter around him. The cold air from the open window was rather chilly but he didn’t want to tell you that because you’d give him a lecture about how much his room was stinking like wine.
“I need a break. I am going to write to my father so I can go back to Starfall for some time after your father gets home,” you sat on the edge of his bed.
Daeron’s heart skipped a beat. He looked at you and you turned your face to meet his gaze.
“I am tired,” you admitted. “I know that this is what most women do… Take care of children, help run a castle but… I am so fucking tired.”
“I understand,” Daeron nodded as he swallowed a lump forming in his throat.
“Rhae and Aegon are old enough already for me to leave them for some time,” you added, nervously playing with the sleeves of your dress.
“But… But you’re going to come back, right?” Daeron asked.
He wasn’t sure. And when you nodded, he wasn’t convinced that you weren’t lying.
There could be many reasons why you wouldn’t come back. You could simply not want to. Or you could get married to someone you’d meet at home. Perhaps your father had a match prepared for you already. Or you could catch an illness and die – very dramatic but still realistic.
“Summerhall will feel empty without you,” Daeron admitted.
“Summerhall is full of people,” you chuckled.
“Yes, but there is only one you,” he pointed out.
Your heart fluttered as your cheeks heated up. You leaned in closer to fix his messy hair and push the reckless hairstrands behind his ears to see his face better.
“I will be back,” you assured him, looking deep into his eyes. “I love you all too much to leave you for good.”
Daeron knew he shouldn’t have done that but something much stronger than him – an unstoppable urge – told him to do it anyway. He reached towards you and traced your waistline with his fingers. He noticed your breath hitching and it encouraged him to grab you by the purple ribbons keeping your corset in place. He pulled you closer and joined your lips with his in a hungry kiss.
You were shocked but you didn’t push him away. Instead, you kissed him back, your heart beating like crazy.
When you were both out of breath, Daeron pulled away with a broken moan. He felt pathetic.
“I know it’s selfish of me but I am scared of what is going to happen to me when you leave,” he whispered.
You caressed his flushed cheeks and leaned in to steal one more gentle kiss from the corner of his lips.
“I could stay… If you helped me a bit,” you proposed with a smirk. Daeron groaned and rolled his eyes. “It would actually do you good to focus more on your younger siblings and running the castle instead of sitting here all day with wine to drown in it alongside with the overconsuming self-pity you have a hopeless tendency to.”
Daeron knew that you were right. He hesitated and sighed.
“I will try,” he promised and you stole yet one more kiss from him.
Once you started it was hard to stop.
Maekar came back home and the very thing that annoyed him was the fact that there was no one from his family to greet him.
The castle seemed to be oddly quiet, so he checked inside the library first. Aemon was there with a huge book that nearly covered him whole. A plate full of fruit and nuts was nearby, which meant you had to visit him earlier.
He didn’t even notice his father. Maekar sighed and left him alone.
He went to the room of his younger children but it was empty, so he went back downstairs and into the courtyard where Aerion was practicing with a sword.
“You’re back,” his son pointed out.
“Indeed. Why didn’t you greet your old father in the courtyard?” Maekar asked.
“I can’t miss the training,” Aerion scoffed as if it was obvious.
“Where is the rest?”
“In the gardens,” Aerion shrugged.
Intrigued, Maekar headed to the gardens. A place that his wife had once tended to and after her passing it was her niece who was taking excellent care of it.
As he approached the gate, the sound of laughter began to reach his ears. And then he saw something he was not prepared to see.
You were blindfolded and laughing, spinning around with your hands extended, trying to grab someone. Daella, Aegon and Rhae were giggling and running away from you, then teasing you again by coming closer. You were following the sound of their voices, uncertainly. The sight tugged at the Prince’s heart but what surprised him the most was the fact that his son Daeron actively participated in this game. He was standing behind you and chuckling, encouraging his siblings to come closer or scaring them away playfully.
Prince Maekar watched in silence as something softened inside of him. He had never expected to see Daeron so relaxed and carefree again. And the sight of his youngest children playing like this with you made him truly emotional.
Then, you tripped over a stone. You squealed but Daeron’s strong arms caught you and put you back onto your feet. You removed the ribbon from your eyes and chuckled nervously.
“Be careful,” Daeron told you.
“There is no need when you are behind me,” you answered sweetly.
Prince Maekar furrowed his brows as he cleared his throat.
Rhae smiled widely as she ran to him and Daella followed.
“Father!” They greeted him.
“You’re back!” Aegon ran to him as well.
“I am, I am…” Maekar caressed the heads of his children. “And no one was waiting to greet me,” he looked up at you and Daeron as you two looked at one another.
“Forgive me, Uncle. We were supposed to but we lost track of time while playing,” you explained. “Was your journey pleasant?”
“Journey back home always is,” Maekar nodded.
It was late evening when Maekar was in his office, trying to read all the letters he had received in his absence when Daeron knocked upon the door and entered without waiting for permission to do so. Maekar sighed but he was used to it – no one at Summerhall truly cared about privacy.
“I’m glad to see you,” Maekar put the letter he was holding down.
“Truly?” Daeron asked, surprised.
“Truly,” Maekar nodded. “I don’t know what happened but it’s as if you’re a different man. You merely sipped on the wine by the dinner table and the sight of you playing with your siblings was a pleasant surprise,” he explained.
“I made a promise to (Y/N),” Daeron admitted, scratching the back of his head.
“(Y/N)?” Maekar raised an eyebrow at him.
“Yes,” Daeron approached his desk as he stood there, awkwardly. “She is also the reason I came here to speak to you about.”
“What about her?” Maekar inquired, looking up at his son.
“Would there be a possibility of you agreeing for us to be wed?” Daeron asked after taking a deep breath.
Short silence occurred, during which Prince Maekar blinked slowly a few times, processing the question.
“Does she know about you inquiring?”
“I don’t wish to ask her without having your permission,” Daeron admitted.
“Well, I don’t see a reason to be against it. It would keep her here and I would hate to see her go. She also seems to have a good influence on you,” Maekar admitted. “I am also sure her father will agree, he is rather ambitious and his daughter marrying a Prince would be a dream come true for him. You might court her if you wish,” Maekar nodded.
Daeron nodded back, a bit shyly. He hesitated as if he wanted to say something but he gave up and turned around to leave his father alone in his study.
You were embroidering in the gardens. The weather was lovely and Daella was next to you, trying to copy the pattern you were working on. It did not matter to her that it was the sigil of House Dayne. After all, she was half-Dayne as well.
Daeron was standing by the tree nearby as he watched you peacefully. He didn’t mind waiting a bit before approaching you. Simply being around you was enough to calm his head from the loud thoughts of the doom from his nightmares.
It was when he spotted his sister getting more irritated with the needle, he decided to step in.
“Daella, our father wants to see you,” he lied. Daella sighed and left the bench, taking the embroidery set with her.
Daeron took her seat right after and you glanced at him with a small smile.
“Why did you dismiss poor Daella?” You asked.
“I wanted to be alone with you,” Daeron confessed.
“Yes?” You asked, still focused on your work. You didn’t even look up to meet his gaze but perhaps it was better this way.
“I want to know… I want to ask about the kiss,” he whispered.
You froze for a short moment but then you went back to embroidery.
“What about it?”
“I want to know what it meant to you. Was it the heat of the moment or perhaps you felt obliged to kiss me back?” Daeron asked, feeling terrible with himself already. What if you had only kissed him back because you were scared to push him away?
“I kissed you because I wanted to,” you snorted and finally looked at his scared face. “I kissed you twelve times after you kissed me once. How could I possibly be forced to do that? I thought I made myself pretty obvious.”
Daeron smiled nervously at that and sighed with relief.
“Good,” he nodded and you tilted your head, interested in what he was about to say next. “I know I am far from perfect but I hope you can see that I am trying.”
“I can,” you admitted with a nod. “And I am proud of you.”
“I am glad.”
“Is that all you wanted to know?” You asked and looked down at your embroidery again.
“Not really,” Daeron shook his head. “I was wondering… But now when I think of it, it sounds stupid.”
“No, what is it?” You furrowed your brows, focusing on the pattern on the purple fabric in your hands.
“Do promise you will not laugh at me.”
“I do promise, cousin,” you nodded.
“I was wondering if… Perhaps… You would consider… Yourself… Marrying me?” He asked out loud and closed his eyes immediately after.
Gods, he had made a fool of himself. How pathetic he sounded, how embarrassing. While he continued to overthink that, he felt a gentle touch on his lips and cheeks.
He opened his eyes and saw your face pressed to his as his heart skipped a beat. You were cupping his face and pecking his lips with such a soft delicacy that he blushed.
He kissed you back, trying to be just as gentle.
“There is nothing I would want more than that,” you assured him with a smile. “My dream Prince,” you chuckled and rubbed your nose with his as you fixed his ruffled hair.
“More like a nightmare Prince,” Daeron mumbled.
“Does not matter to me. Whatever you’re dealing with, I will handle it,” you nodded. “I always handle things.”
It was true. You always did. Sometimes it was exhausting but it was worth the effort.
“Does it mean you will not go back to Starfall?” Daeron asked, quietly.
“Do you want to marry me just to keep me chained here?” You asked with a chuckle.
“Gods, no, I did not mean that–”
“I know,” you laughed and shook your head, grabbing your embroidery set again. “No, I will not go back. I am needed here. And I wish to be here as well. It is my home now,” you assured him.
“You were tired,” Daeron reminded you.
“All women are,” you shrugged your arms. “Besides, I will have a Lord Husband to help me now,” you glanced at him.
Daeron nodded and did not say anything else. He was just sitting there and watching you work in silence. He could admire you like that for days and wouldn’t get bored.
“Pass me the black thread?” You broke the silence first as you pointed at the box full of threads and needles that was laying on a stone table nearby.
Daeron furrowed his brows.
“What do you need it for? All you need is a white one to embroider the Dayne sigil,” he pointed out.
“Well, now I have to add the three-headed dragon as well,” you looked up at him, eventually, a little irritated that you had to explain the obvious.
Daeron chuckled and nodded as he leaned in towards the box to search for the black thread.
“If the design comes out good enough, I will order such tablecloths for our wedding feast,” you added with a smile.
Something was telling you that out of all the celebrations you had thrown at Summerhall so far, this one would be your favourite to prepare.
MASTERLIST
