A Doe Among Dragons.
(Poly!Daemyra x Baratheon!Female!Reader).
For the lovely @starwoman97, really hope you enjoy. All rights for the gif go to the owner.
Part 2: A House Divided.
“You haven taken an interest in the little doe, I see.’’
Rhaenyra curled a brow toward Daemon, turning her body toward her husband. His face was lined in that smirk, a smirk that only promised her trouble or the deepest of pleasures. “I know not what you speak, dear husband.’’ Rhaenyra breathed, her face dusting over with a soft blush. Taking her hand in his, Daemon’s voice dropped into a low whisper. His body leaned against her, their chests now colliding. “Do not play me for a fool, zaldristos. I saw the way you were looking at her.’’ He whispered, his lips brushing against Rhaenyra.
The Princess knew his words to be true.
You had taken over her mind. Rhaenyra found herself thinking of you, ever since she saw you at court. House Baratheon had been a long standing ally to House Targaryen, your blood going back to the days of the Conqueror. The blood of the dragon and that of the stag ran the same river, passing through your veins and that of the Princess Rhaenys. Rhaenyra loved Daemon, she knew that to be true and yet, she found herself wondering if she had fallen in love with you. Ever since Rhaenyra feld King’s Landing, she seldom found solace from you.
Your beautiful (h/c) hair, your stunning (e/c) eyes. Even your voice gave the Princess no escape. “I've found that she has been occupying my mind as of late." Rhaenyra answered, her voice slow. As if she feared that Daemon would think that she didn't love him anymore.
Daemon smirked, his hand snaking behind Rhaenyra's head and urging her closer to him.
The Rogue Prince wasn't a stranger to Rhaenyra's infatuation with you, for he too was struck by it.
Nobles spoke in hushed whispers of you, about how you were born during one of the worst storms that Westeros had ever seen. It was said that through the screams and yells of your mother, the storm nearly brought the keep down. A common jest of the court was that the gods returned to finish what they started long ago.
Daemon watched you intently during his time in court, wishing to know anything and everything about you.
You were unmarried, Lord Boremund having refused all suitors that came for your hand. In his eyes, none were worthy of the Baratheon name and he wished to preserve his daughter's wish for a suitor of her choosing.
Borros, your brother and current Lord of the Stormlands, did not share his father's sentiment however. Daemon had heard him more than once, looking and strategizing your marriage, as if you were nothing more than a pawn.
With Daemon and Rhaenyra, you would be treated as you deserved.
You would be loved as you deserved.
Daemon pressed his lips against Rhaenyra, silencing any doubt that threatened to rise to the surface. "You want her…and so do I." Daemon whispered, his voice laden with want. Rhaenyra hummed against his lips, her hands soft and caressing his face.
"Her brother would never allow such a thing."
"Her brother is nothing but a greedy cunt. He will do almost anything to secure his own power.’’ Daemon said. His eyes sparked with a wild flame. They were almost akin to dragons. With one final kiss, Daemon breathed one more word.
“He cannot deny his future Queen.’’
—
The news reached your brother before it ever did you.
News that the dragons sought a doe for a second wife.
The court whispered in hushed tones, eyes downcast. Some spoke with pity, of how you were a poor girl, being handed over to the beasts that would tear you apart. Some stared daggers into you, lords and ladies laden with jealousy at the lost opportunity for more power. As you passed the threshold into the Great Hall, the voices disappeared. There Borros sat, on the seat that once proudly accommodated your father.
It had been years since his passing and yet you could still feel him. Feel him in every decision that you made, every defiance you spat. “My steadfast hind.’’ he would call you, when the Septas related to him about your many shenanigans.
You bowed before Borros, who smiled.
"Arise, dear sister."
"You called for me, brother?"
Borros rose from his seat, walking toward the balcony, looking upon Shipwreckers Bay. You walked to him, your dress swaying as you did so. "Yes, I have great news for you." He said, making you quirk a brow.
"It's about time that you are married, sister." Borros said. Those words were enough to make your stomach drop. Marriage was like a shadow, constantly following you. It was what your father would have wanted, you thought. He wanted you to be well, even when he couldnt be with you. “I suppose so.’’ You responded, curtly. “Would I be wrong to assume that this great news heralds such a message.’’
“You always did catch on quickly.’’
‘’Who is he?’’
“Prince Daemon Targaryen.’’ Borros stated, aptly ignoring your bewildered expression. While any prospect of marriage with a member of the house of the dragon was more than a welcomed one, the people had their fair share of words to spare for the Rogue Prince. “Brother, you cannot be serious…Prince Daemon is already betrothed to the heir, Princess Rhaenyra.’’ You retorted. Borros nodded his head. “Surely, the Princess must be unaware of this?"
"It was a messenger from the Princess herself, sister. Believe me, she is aware." Borros comforted, yet his words did nothing to sooth you.
You would do what was necessary for your house.
But this was beyond anything that you could have imagined.
You found yourself thinking what your father would think. He bent the knee once Rhaenyra was declared heir and House Baratheon followed. Borror was less keen on the succession, yet he could seldom contest it. "This will bring forth great fortune, sister. You will wed the consort and our House will be even closer to the Throne." Borros said, his hands gently placed on your shoulders. You bore into each other's eyes, a silent challenge between brother and sister. You silently prayed that he might change his mind, that he might respect your father's wishes and leave you be.
"Shall the raven be sent?"
But your father was dead.
And it was time to do your duty.
You nodded silently.
Borros laughed out joyfully, pulling you into an embrace, as you already began to bid your goodbyes.
To your brother.
To your land.
To home.
—
"We should be reaching Dragonstone soon, my lady."
"Thank you, Ser Brandon." Ser Brandon was a man from the North, brought to the Stormlands when you were just a girl of six and ten. Your father appointed him as your Kingsguard and he had been with you even since. You fiddled with your rings, gazing out into the sea.
"You're nervous."
"Is it that obvious?"
"You're going to be alright, my lady. I won't leave you alone if I can help it." His words brought a smile to your face. "Your devotion is appreciated, Ser Brandon. But even that can't soothe the uncertainty I feel." You said. "Prince Daemon is a character…" he said. You hummed. You had only spoken to the Prince and Princess in passing, mostly about idle things like court duties. They had intrigued you, you couldn't deny it.
Perhaps it was their position, or maybe it was the dragons that perched themselves on the keep, growing and illuminating the sky with their bright, dangerous flames.
Watching the waves, you thought of Rhaenyra.
While your brother assured that it was she who sent the messenger, you had to know what she thought of this. Aegon the Conqueror had two wives, one out of love and the other out of duty.
Which one were you?
You pulled from your thoughts once a piercing roar reached your ears. Looking up, you saw two figures dancing among the clouds.
Dragons.
The beasts soared down toward the boat, Ser Brandon wasting no time in pulling you down. The gust of wind that followed was harsh, salt and sea water sprinkling you slightly. "My lady are you alright? Are you in need of the maestre?" Your Kingsguard interrogated, almost frantically. "I'm alright, Ser Brandon. Please, have the shipmaster be ready to dock. We are here." You announced, rising to your feet.
Ser Brandon looked yonder, being met with the Keep and the glory of Dragonstone.
Aegon settled with his sister's on that castle when they first came here. And now, a doe was entering the den of the dragon. You sighed, once again returning to your rings as the shipmaster ordered preparations to dock.
"Father watch over me." You prayed, as the ship drew closer and the gates to the keep opened.
—
The ship docked.
You and Ser Brandon disembarked, your heart beating more and more. Daemon and Rhaenyra awaited you at the keep, while here, you were greeted by the future heir, Prince Jacaerys.
"My Prince." You greeted, bowing. "Lady (Y/n), welcome to Dragonstone. I do hope the trip was easy." Jacaerys smiled, motioning you inside. You and the Prince walked side to side, as your respective guards were not too far behind. "My mother and Daemon await you inside. They saw it fit for me to greet you." Jacaerys explained. You smiled, "It has been a pleasure, my Prince. I do hope we will get to see more of each other."
"Gods willing, my lady. Come, my mother isn't to be kept waiting." Jacaerys ushered you toward the throne room, absent minded to your growing nervousness. Ser Brandon was close behind you, giving you a reassuring gaze.
Once the doors opened, you heard the announcement of your arrival.
"Lady (Y/n) of House Baratheon!"
The hall was empty, sept Rhaenyra and Daemon. The two exchanged knowing glances, sharp eyes following your form as you entered the hall. You were clad in the colors of your house, deer imagery proudly strewn about your dress. Daemon was all too eager to have those replaced with dragons, as you would come to wear their house colors soon. “Princess…you have honored my house with your proposal. I’ve come to accept it.’’ You said. Rhaenyra’s face was etched with a smile, her rising from her throne.
“And you honor me and my husband with your acceptance. Our houses have always been allies, it is my hope that we will now be friends.’’ The Princess said, sounding rather hopeful. You gave a smile, your (e/c) eyes catching Daemon’s for a moment. He seemed pleased. Had he no shame? Eyeing you up in front of his wife? Rhaenyra inter locked her arm with yours, taking you out of the throne room and into a small chamber which you could only assume was a leisure room. “May I offer you something to drink?” Rhaenyra inquired.
“No, my princess, I am not thirsty.’’
“You sound nervous.’’ She chuckled and you hated that she was right. Your palms were clammy, you were trying to discreetly wipe them on your dress skirt. “That seems to be a constant today’’ You asked jokingly. “You have nothing to be nervous about, sweetling.’’ The Princess reassured. You looked up at her, eyes meeting hers. Realm’s Delight indeed. You had stolen glances at the Princess in court,having spoken to her only a handful of times. You had grown into your affections at that point, knowing that no matter what your lover was, it was the heart that mattered. At least to you.
“Forgive my brash questioning, princess, but…how are you alright with this?’’
“What do you mean?’’
“I am going to be marrying your husband!’’ You exclaimed, outraged. “I would think you scored, bitter, jealous but you as it stands are nothing of the sort!” You continued, skin flushing with heat. “I wish to know what I am getting into…I won't be sec-’’
“Who said you are to marry only Daemon?’’
Her words left you even more confused than before. Rhaenyra smirked, only then realizing that Borros probably excluded that part from the raven. Rhaenyra took a tentative step toward you, almost as if you were a frightened doe. “Forgive me for causing you such peril…it was not my intention.’’ She whispered, her hand rising slowly. When you didn't shy away, her hand stayed on your face. “Me and Daemon…we’ve been infatuated with you for a long time. When we left court, I almost thought to take you with me.’’ Rhaenyra confessed, feeling her own face heat up.
While she spoke, you swore you had died and ascended to the Seven. You replayed her words over and over, thinking it was just your wishful mind tricking you. “Since the day I saw you in court…I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. Daemon shares the same sentiment, I’m sure.’’ Rhaenyra chuckled. Her husband hadn’t kept his own infatuation with you a secret, as it was his idea to even send the raven. You leaned into Rhaenyra’s touch, sighing.
You relaid your own feelings to the princess, how her and the prince had haunted your every waking moment. That they were the only two you could ever think to marry. Once you concluded your little rant, Rhaenyra and you stared into each other's eyes, her own ignited with that Targaryen fire. Soon, your lips collided, and fire burst in your stomach.
The two of you were so entangled in your passions, you didn't even notice Daemon standing at the door. "I haven't even spoken to her and you're already trying to steal my bride." The prince chuckled, moving through your confusion and standing behind you. You crane your head to the side to gaze upon your future husband, as he took a loose strand of your hair and twisted it between his thumb and forefinger.
"Beautiful."
"That she is…" Rhaenyra parroted. You hummed in satisfaction, as Daemon took to placing kisses on your exposed necks.
They made it seem like you had known each other for years.
You gently urged the two to stop, a dreamy smile on your lips.
"Save some for the wedding night, won't you?”
Daemon growled lowly at that, taking your hand and keeping his lips to it. Rhaenyra smiled, giving you a kiss on the cheek before speaking once again. “Come, my dear, we must get you ready for the wedding.’’ She said. “A true wedding.’’ Daemon added. You followed the duo, passing servants and guards alike. They left you with a serving girl called Hilda, who seemed more than eager to help you. You entered the room, where the bed was allied with garments that you didn't recognize. “Hilda…where is my dress?’’
“It is on the bed, my lady.’’
The dress was unlike any you had seen. The color was slightly off white, with a beautiful headpiece laid at the top. You smiled.”They seem to be against tradition all together.’’ That sentiment alone let you know that the people you were marrying were far from the people you knew at court.
Passing talks and willful glances would now turn into something more. You were out of your brother's home and into a better one. Hilda assisted you in putting on the garment, as you then began to acknowledge the nerves that were building up.
"You needn't worry my lady…the prince and princess already fancy ya." Hilda comforted, which you appreciated more than you let on. Soon, it was time to head to the ceremony. You wished that your father had been here, ready to give you away as you both secretly laughed at the very idea of you getting married.
But seeing the two of them there, with such love and affection in their eyes, the fear died.
A drink from the chalice.
A swipe on the lip.
Rhaenyra kissed you gently, only to be followed by Daemon, who was far more ferocious.
The house of the Dragon and the house of the Stag were united, under the same banner of ancestors long past. The feast commenced not long thereafter, with food and drink laid around as allies and friends gathered to celebrate. Daemon sat to your right, Rhaenyra to your left and their brood scattered around you. While Jacaerys was a talker, the younger boy Lucersy took a moment to warm up to you. Yet, once he did, he was beyond sweet.
Joffrey was too busy running and playing with the other children. That made you smile.
Your gaze danced about, taking in your new home. Now you were truly…
…a doe among dragons.
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