alicent had an older widowed or still unmarried sister that hears what otto has been planning and decides to ruin his plan and save alicent from that life by making viscerys focus on her instead. I think she could stop the dance of dragons if only to spite otto & become bugs with daemon while doing it. Headcanons but can use to turn it into something longer. Thanks for considering
oh gosh this was a very interesting take im so happy i could indulge :)
this is the first version, a second version will be posted soon after
pronouns: she/her
warnings: vizzy t
so i decided to make her a widow seeing as i think it would add a lot of depth to see her wanting to protect alicent from the life that she herself had
maybe she catches viserys looking at alicent who just looks so much like herself when she got married for the first time
when otto sneaks into conversation that he wants to wed her to him, you put yourself forth and take over her expectations and go in her stead, smirking as flirtatiously as you can at the frail King and insisting you help with his ointments
now i could imagine you arguing with otto to let you trade positions with alicent seeing as you have also lost your spouse and it makes sense for you to empathise with him, he might argue that you are not the pure choice or perhaps push the both of you toward him
you don't wear your mother's dresses–they're too sacred for that and you forgo your religious symbols
so regardless you go instead of her and dressed in your mourning attire especially if you are still grieving, your father is an ambitious man and you know his intentions so you will simply foil them and marry the old king yourself
you are a beautiful woman with plenty of suitors before your first marriage and against your father's judgment, viserys is quick to welcome you
a warm comfort of understanding passes over you both
you do not feel the need to lay a thick affection, simply offering your condolences and rubbing his shoulders
slowly you make a show of exploring the castle ground with him, asking what has changed since you were young
it has been a long time since you were home and he is all the more keen to help you
eventually you propose a mutual decision
to get married and mutually benefit your families
but there is one condition
Rhaenyra will be Queen after he passes
he needs an son to quieten his council, someone to look out for Rhaenyra's throne and you need a husband
it is a logical choice and he cares for you
whether the relationship becomes platonic or romantic, he comes to a deep affection with you and especially after you fall pregnant with his child
though you both hold your breath once he is born a boy
as queen you take the role of alicent's guardian and suggest lightly to your husband that your father is not to be trusted
that he is cunning and resourceful
you convince your husband that otto's spies were planted and malicious only to threaten her throne
but you also pay a visit to rhaenyra
you ask her what happened very plainly and when she lies boldly to her, you send a warning and kiss on the forehead as a show of goodwill
then daemon is exiled again and it is the first time you raise your voice to your husband
the argument is long, loud and tedious but eventually he agrees to give rhaenyra a few more years of prospects and give daemon the chance of redemption
rhaenyra is unsure what to make of you and your possible intentions until you demand she have a place at the small council not as cupbearer but as an official presence to make decisions and learn from her fellow lords
slowly you guide her into positions of power and discuss with her the importance of morality
you request visits with her to dragonstone under the guise of motherly bonding
she requests to arrive on dragonback and surprisingly you agree with a smirk on your face
the ride is arduous and you cling to her waist tightly, clawing as though you will fall at any moment
but it is also exhilarating
once you both arrive, she is surprised to hear you have hidden something for her on her own grounds
she frowns, worried this may be a coup but when you lead her into the council room then gasps
there before her is daemon, her daemon grinning wildly
but it is not only that
he is dressed in traditional valyrian garb
otto hightower is not the only master of cunning in your family
you agree to be a witness and state calmly that if she is prepared to cement her choices then so are you
it's the first time she respects you
she's also grateful that you have gone to such levels to ensure her claim is protected
and so she gradually cares for you more and more
viserys on the other hand is outraged at your blatant disrespect which you throw back, regarding your own children with him
that you warm his bed despite what you may want yourself, that he never asks only summons her
and he's silent because for the first time someone is confronting other than his brother
because he didn't ask aemma either
he has been hailed for his need for peace and yet as he stands before you, it is not peace he has created it is secrecy and malice
he continues to argue weakly but when you refuse to spend the night in his chambers despite his calls and you do not arrive early to assist him in his ointments, he finds himself missing your gentle touch
you allow the children to eat at his side and arrive briefly where he practically ladens your plate himself but you're composed and collected and false
so instead of summoning you
he spends time with the children
he allows daemon to visit court, to not force his child into enduring flights just to see her husband
and eventually you summon him and he could not be more relieved
whether making up with him is because he has endeared you or strategic does not matter because your time becomes quickly occupied when rhaenyra falls pregnant with her first child
you coo at her swollen stomach and share any tips or guidances you are able and when she become irate you are there to provide her with the food of her cravings and anecdotes of embarrassing circumstances
daemon whether he likes it or not also becomes fond of you
you were the reason he could marry rhaenyra of course and he oddly likes your sharp tongue, especially when it is used against your father
so your sweet trio is admired and especially by viserys
the house of the dragon is united once more
you discuss with daemon one evening how you worry about what will come once rhaenyra's child is born and in the night he provides a strange comfort
he is a second son and his right to being heir was taken from him for a mere child instead and while he loves rhaenyra, he believes it was his birthright by order of law until seeing her arrival at dragonstone
the day everything changed and instead of a foolish princess he found a queen in the making
perhaps it is your motherly presence that cracks his shield but he finds himself spilling his hurt at viserys' continued rejection of him
you explain that you cannot reinstate his presence on the small council but he qucikly explains that is not what he meant
he wants a family as much as his brother does
and then it clicks
you will not stop a fight for power by sweet words and affirmations
you will influence your children's fondness for their sister
unite them strong
aegon will not want for a throne that he does not believe to be his and no amount of scheming can change that
so the bonding strategies ensue and surprisingly they work
aegon is beaming at the attention and little helaena is asking about syrax
but aemon is in the corner shyly so you coax him into his sister's presence
family dinners are mandatory
once jacaerys is born with or without silver hair, his aunt and uncles are fawning over the babe (though aegon still finds himself jealous of the attention from time to time)
Summary: a paralysing toxin makes daemon seems dead, the consequences are catastrophic
Daemon targaryen x Targaryen/Lannister Wife Reader (reader has no physical description to be inclusive, but is referred as female pronouns )
Warning: paralysing toxin, presumed temporal character death, angst with happy ending, suicidal attempt, yes is inspired by romeo and juliet but with happy ending. not mentioned cousin inc3st but is medival GOT. Possible age difference. badass reader
f-pronoun-no-physical-description!reader
Notes:
Sorry for the grammatical errors. I’m new at writing so feedback is appreciated. Thank you for reading. do not translate or appropriate my work
Comments and kudos are highly appreciated :)
words: 3315
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You and daemon had a night out in disguise around the city, you were happy to spend some carefree time with the man you loved. Then you got back to your rooms and you prepared for bed. Daemon looked strange as if there was something bothering him.
‘Are you okay?’ you ask him holding your head on your elbow as you two laid in your bed
‘yes just a ticking sensation in my fingertips’ he replies looking at you and tracing your back with his fingertips
‘That is uncommon, do you want me to call the masters?’ you ask him worried
‘no need, i just need you to distract me’ he says smirking as he gets over you, you lay back lust mixing in your eyes ‘with pleasure my love’ you reply as you kiss him
After you fell asleep with your head against his chest as he kept you safe In his warm embrace
The sun was transpiring from the curtains when you woke up
‘oh that is knew I woke up before you’ you says as daemon is sleeping on his side, but he doesn’t reply
‘my love?’ you ask tracing his naked back, no reply and he was colder than usual ‘daemon?’ you try again moving closer and touching gently his face, still no reply, you start to shake as your eyes wide in horror ‘daemon! Wake up! It’s not funny’ you say shaking him and bringing him in your arms,
you start to shouts ‘help! Help! Call the masters!’ your guards outside hear you and reply ‘princess?’ the guard asks
‘ser call the masters please the prince run!’ you shouts crying ‘daemon? Daemon wake up please. gods wake up!’ you say tracing his face with your fingertips, he would seem even relaxed sleeping if he would been responsive
The masters arrived and took daemon from your arms, you reluctantly let go knowing they needed to check on him, you remained in the bed next to him waiting. The master ran his tests
‘what sickness does he have?’ you asked worried looking at your husband. The master did not reply putting daemon’s hand down
‘my princess, the prince.. is dead’ he replied eyes low
‘no! no its not possible! He was okay yesterday. Check again!’ you shouted
‘there is no heart beating, no breathing, my condolences’ he replies as he steps back. You let out a cry as you crawl daemon in your lap
‘out! Out!’ you shout at everyone in the room
‘please daemon please come back. You can’t leave me please’ you pleaded as you let out tears and sob and held his body tight. You closed the doors managing to block them
Two days and two night passed, you did not drink, eat, sleep or get up from your spot in the bed, throughout the castle the only sound that could be heard were your screams of pain and you calling his name. you crawled daemon in your arms, tracing his face with your fingertips, or pressing your forehead against his, whispering in high valerian or the common tongue ‘please my love please wake up’ ‘please daemon you swore, you swore to me, you can’t die not like this, not like this’
After two days the guards manage to break the door and got in. you were exactly where they had left you. The master entered the room.
‘princess we need to prepare the prince for the pyre’ he tells you
‘no’ you reply dry, your throat sore from your screams.
‘please my princess it has been two days according to your valerian costumes he must be burned before the fourth day to reach the other dragons. To my understanding the prince was vey fond of valerian costumes, and he would wish to be put to rest as such’
The master was right. Daemon was proud of his heritage, of being the blood of old Valyria, of being a dragon he would want to be buried as such
‘Tell the maids to bring what is needed for me to prepare him’ you reply not taking your eyes of him
‘but princess is not your place to-‘ the master tries
‘he is my husband, I prepare him. go get me what I need’ you reply drily not letting daemon go.
You hold him still as they bring all that you need to prepare him
‘everything is ready princess’ your swore guard says you nod as you kiss daemon forehead again.
The knights following your instructions pick up daemon and place him on the table, you slowly get up and reach him, you start to cry again as you fall on your knees next to the table. The rest of the people leave to give you privacy.
You prepare daemon’s body for the ceremony. You wash him, dress him and put the bandages around him with also the symbols and oils of high valerian, when you have only the head left you take a moment as you crumble again sobbing, you hold his face in your hands knowing it will be the last time, you press your forehead against his
You kiss his forehead and give a caste peck on his lips. Then you give one last look at the face you had been falling asleep and waking up to for years, the face of the man you loved, and say the valerian pray as you put the last bandages on his head
‘I’ll see you soon my love’ you whisper to him as tears dried up, you think you have no more water in your body to form tears. You know very well what to do next
You take a pen and paper and scumble on it that they must unite yours and daemon ashes after he is burned and then send them to rhaenyra so she and syrax can disperse them all around Dragonstone. You then write short letters to her, vyseris and anyone else you care for. You leave them there. Then take the note and give it to your maid
‘I will go for a walk, take this. open it tonight before the funeral when I come back’ you instruct the maids as you leave the room
You and daemon had grew up together, you were younger than him hence you had Not lived one day without him and you did not intend to start now.
Especially You could not bear to see his body be burned by caraxes or slaeyer, you just could not, so you know what to do next to rejoin with him in old valerya. You moved almost automatic not caring what were you doing. You exit the castle and when the guards tried to stop you you tell them that you needed to go for a walk before the funeral.
You walked to the mountain were your dragons lived and entered the cave finding caraxes agitated and slaeyer howling at him probably trying to calm him down. Caraxes could feel daemon pain and as you two were bounded to each others also your dragons were.
‘hello my majestic dragons’ you start speaking in high valeryan sniffling as you pet slayer that snuzzles you before going to carazes that by seeying you calms immediately, you rest your forehead against his scales
‘I’m so sorry Caraxes. I should have protected him please forgive me’ you tell him as he makes a painful noise, you then go to slayer
‘my beautiful slayer, you have been such a good dragon, the best dragon I could ask for. I love you so much my dragon. he loved you too caraxes, so much’ you say in high valerian as you sob, the two dragons snuzzle you feeling your distress
‘You two take care of each other okay? and find two good riders, not the first ones the arrive. hopefully a good couple okay, that will love you as much as we love you, don’t separate, you two are bound together okay?’
The fact that caraxes was restless but wasn’t in pain as a dragon loosing his rider should have been signaled that something was strange but instead it didn’t as you proceed with your plan
You kissed their heads as you moved in front of them wiping your tears ‘okay its time’
‘dracarys Slaeyer’ you command your dragon, your dragon looks at you curiusly not understanding why you would say that ‘dracarys Slaeyer’ you repeat voice breaking, your dragon just snorts,
you turn to caraxes ‘dracarys Caraxes’, your husband dragon just looks at you confused, you repeat the words until you start beg them repeating that word until you fall on your knees
‘please I can’t live without him, let me join him as a dragon rider please my dragons please’ you beg them sobbing
The two dragons look a each others in pain. Slaeyer can feel your pain and opens her mouth, fire starting to show
Daemon pov
The night before
You and daemon were around the city disguised when he felt a like a puncture but did not think much about it. He acted normal when he arrived at the castle hand in hand with you and then prepared for bed. After a few hours he felt a tickling sensation in his fingertips .
‘Are you okay?’ you ask him holding your head on your elbow as you two laid in your bed
‘yes just a ticking sensation in my fingertips’ he replies looking at you and tracing your back with his fingertips
‘That is uncommon, do you want me to call the masters?’ you ask him worried, he smiles at your worry a sign that you care for him deeply
‘no need, i just need you to distract me’ he says smirking as he gets over you, you lay back lust mixing in your eyes ‘with pleasure my love’ you reply as you kiss him
He went to bed satisfied and happy with you in his arms. But when he woke up as always before you he could not open his eyes, or move his body although his mind was wide awake
‘am I dead?’ he thought as he waited until he felt your fingertips on his face lovingly telling him good morning, yet he could not move, but if he was dead he would not feel your touch on him
‘I’m here, I’m alive, I can’t move it must be poison’ he wanted to shout but he couldn’t no matter how much he tried, he heard your screams and felt the masters inspecting his body
Two days passed and yet he could not move or speak. He Can hear you but can’t open eyes or move . even if he isn’t dead, your screams, pleas, and cries are killing him. ‘I’m here, I’m here y/n’ he is trying to say but cannot
‘we must prepare the body for burial’ he hears the master say. Well great he is going to die now for real when slaeyer will burn him. he shouts with all his force to try wake make his body move but without results
He feels to be moved from your loving embrace and then your hands touching him. he could recognize your touch in a million. He feels how lovingly you prepare his body. The touch is similar of when you wash his body when you two share a bath. It would be almost pleasant if this wasn’t the situation. he feels any and every of your tears that fall on his face and body as you prepare him.
He hears your last words in high valeyrian to him ‘I’ll see you soon my love’. He knows that kind of voice and he starts to panic. He knew what you planned the second you gave the letters to the maids. Years before during the war of the stepstones as he almost got himself killed you had told him ‘one day you will get yourself killed and hence you will kill us both, as I rather ask Slaeyer to burn me alive than to live without you’. he needed to wake up now to save you from yourself. He needed to get free and stop you, if the lack of air caused by the bandage will not kill him first
Slowly he feels his fingertips moving, then his head, but he is binded by the bandages, finally he can move enough to scare the maid and the masters that start to scream as his figure moves. Luckily the guard goes to help him and cuts the bandages open
‘my prince how is it possible?’ he exclaims scared of witchcraft, but Targaryen are closer to gods then men, cheating deaths should not seem so strange.
‘Where is she? where is my wife?’ daemon shouts trying to get of the table
‘she went for a walk my prince’ a maid explains still shaken by his sudden apparent resurrection.
Daemon tries to move but fails to, his legs still don’t respond properly
‘help me reach the dragon pit you useless cunts!’ he shouts to the guards that help him move.
They bring him to the dragon pit when finally his legs start cooperate again, he limping walks to you
‘Y/N!’ he shouts in anger and fear as he gets closer, you don’t hear him, ‘Y/N!’ he continues when he arrives and sees you standing in front of the dragons eyes closed welcoming the fire as the two dragons open their mouths ready to burn you ‘slaeyer caraxes stop!’ he shouts in high valerian, and the dragons stop immediately, as caraxes gives a pitched noise seeing that his rider is okay.
Your open your eyes and turn seeing your love, your husband, daemon, alive the bandages still falling from him.
‘y/n what were you thinking!’ he shouts but his voice dies out as he sees the relief and tears of joy in your face and eyes, you ran to him engulfing him in your embrace, he hugs you back holding you tight as you cry speaking
‘Daemon is it you really you how?’ you ask clinging to him to dear life as he hugs you back, even if he is angry he can’t deny you
‘It was a paralyzing toxin, i could hear you and feel your touch but could not move or open my eyes and mouth, the effect must have warmed of’ he explains
‘you are truly here’ you cry touching his face and looking at him ‘I am’ he replies holding your hand that is cupping your face. You kiss him with fervor and tears. The kiss tastes of saltness and sorrow.
‘we must bring you to the masters’ you say, he nods, as you put your arm around his waist and help him walk back temporarily forgetting what you were doing when he stopped you
You help daemon go back to your shared bedroom, the masters checking on him and coming to the same conclusion especially when he saw where the needle punctured the skin, it was a miracle that the master did not get killed for having making you both believe daemon was dead.
Everyone leaves you alone as daemon gets dressed after the master’s visit, you look at him, not taking your eyes off him not even for a second fearing he would disappear. You get up hugging him from behind and pressing your head between his shoulders, taking in his smell, the sound of his heartbeat. But he stills in your embrace
‘daemon’ you whisper as a question
‘You foolish woman what were you thinking’ he says in anger but without raising his voice. His tone is firm conveying his anger for your actions but not having the strength to shout at you considering how in distress you are and have been.
‘what?’ you ask him confused raising your head from his shoulder blades
‘you went to our dragons asking them to be burned didn’t you?’ he says, you stiffen as you let him go, not looking at him
‘don’t lie’ he continues as you stay silent ‘yes’ you whisper
‘why?’ he asks as his chuckles turn white by how much strength he is putting in holding the table
‘why? Why?! You were dead daemon! I woke up in our bed and you were dead! What would have you done if the situation was reversed? I can’t live you without you. I won’t. I told you so years ago’ you shout as if it was the most obvious thing in the world
‘and I told you to never again think or talk of your life so carelessly’ he shouts back
‘you were dead daemon! I though you were dead! My lover, my husband, half of my soul was dead! Why would I would want to live? I did not live a single day without you. I was born after you, I grew up with you. I lived with you almost all my life. I don’t know a world where daemon Targaryen is not there. And I will not start now or never. If you live 100 years i want to live the same minus one day , because there will not go by a single day that I walk this earth if you are not next to me. And nothing will ever change that. Are we clear!’ you shout at him.
He is paralyzed, this is a promise of love that he should know very well. It should please him that you love him so deeply, instead it scares him. he is a warrior and he has many enemies, he knows he will die before you and to know that you would follow him voluntary makes him sick.
‘I know how you feel, believe me, but I ask you, beg you to never do something like this again. if I die, you live your life without me, please y/n’ he says voice low. Daemon never begs and never has done in his life. That shocks you, for daemon this is a declaration of love.
You get nearer to him and cup his cheek. ‘I can’t promise you that, you know it. but I can promise you that I will try if that happens’ you whisper. He kisses your hand before kissing your lips
‘that’s enough’ he replies as he intensifies the kiss gently pushing you towards the bed
‘as much as I would love that you need to rest’ you reply stopping him, he shrugs before getting on the bed and opening his arms signaling you to come lay on him. you comply smiling
‘I love you daemon’ you tell him as you rest your head on his chest as he caresses you
‘I love you too my golden dragon’ he replies
You two fall asleep like that, the tireness and stress of the past two days finally cathching you.
Aemond’s wife bursts into tears if she knows he’ll be away from her for longer than half a day. Often times Aemond just sneaks quietly in the mornings without waking her up, his heart breaking as he presses a soft goodbye kiss to her forehead. When he finally returns home, she instantly jumps into his arms, legs gripping at his waist as she holds his face and plants sweet kisses all over his cheeks, his good eye and his scar, Aemond cupping the back of her head and pressing her into an open mouth kiss, his grip on her tighter as she starts melting into his touch.
Aemond used to not know how to handle his wife’s ways of sticking herself to him whenever they were in public. Once, during a diplomatic feast held in honor of House Baratheon — a peace offer of sorts after he annulled his promise to wed one of Lord Borros’ daughters, his wife would not stop touching him. She was either caressing the back of his head, clinging to his bicep with her head resting on his shoulder, or running her hand innocently up his thigh, her chair scooted up as close as humanly possible to Aemond’s, the Baratheon lords and ladies feeling mocked thinking her affections were a gratuitous display meant to rub it in their faces that a Targaryen-Baratheon union was never actually in the books. That evening, once the noise around the table had heightened considerably, and prompted by multiple sour looks from his dear mother and Otto, as well as by Aegon’s impossibility to hold in his laughter at the sight of the two of you, Aemond turned to his wife grasping her delicate hands into his. Her happiness at the gesture was immeasurable, being none the wiser as Aemond let out a small sigh and asked her to tone it down with the touching or they could risk breaking a war right there in the ballroom. She took such offense at his words, that she could not even beginning to fathom what to say in response, as she just nodded, disheartened, tears stinging at the corner of her eyes. Aemond felt awful at his wife’s quiet and restrained demeanor during the rest of the night, his attempts to caress her naked shoulder in order to comfort her met with a recoil on her part. He knew he fucked up as he noticed the Baratheon lords drunk off their faces, not one paying them any mind anymore, one of Borros’ nephews, emboldened by several cups of wine, even going as far as to ask his wife’s hand for a dance. As he watched his Lady twirl and jump with a bear of a man’s hands on her waist, he felt his bile rising and vision blur around the edges, angered at his idiocy and shamed by his lack of appreciation for her love. When his wife returned to her seat, Aemond pushed his chair until it knocked into hers and kissed her where she stood, a hand griping her hair and pulling her head back so he could lay his hand on her collarbone. With the exception of a few stares and some hooting from Aegon’s direction, the rest of the feast continued peacefully, his wife returning to him to nest into his arms.
Following that evening, Aemond vowed to cherish his sweet wife’s affection whenever and however she wished to show it. In the privacy of their chambers he reveled even more into her gracious ways, for he never saw her as clingy as others might have put it, but rather as his savior that showed him how good it felt to be loved as such, seen as such, longed for, at all times.
Although Aemond never attempted another public making out spectacle again, he made sure to let his wife know, that if he could, he would never spend a second away from her, his worshipping of her happening with his mouth between her thighs, his prayers dutifully answered as she shouted for the Seven.
Note: Ok I don’t know if what I wrote works as headcanon, but I was nursing a cup of wine lol and once I started writing I got really into it. Hope you enjoyed!
hi guys!! just wanted to make an official post - i'm going to start posting works for vikings and maaaybe got/hotd/asoiaf on here in the next few months!! this'll be my first try back at writing ff in almost a decade so i'm pretty excited :') if you have any requests feel free to dm me or send them into any of my ask boxes here or on my main @krillmorrissey !!!!
Summary: Danae never thought her life could end because of a bunch of slavers and her temper. Luckily, she gets saved by some white-haired sailors and a dark haired prince.
Warnings: attempted sexual abuse (multiple times), a lot of mentions of slavery, kinda confused POV bc I’d like to see you being absolutely understandable after two months of suffering, beatings, death (but he’s an asshole), I swear it will be clearer in the next chapter, PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING
How long had passed?
Mere seconds, agonizing days, long months, an entire year?
Danae wasn’t entirely sure, and she had no way of finding out.
She was mad, and she knew her anger management could get better. Many things could be said about her, but stupidity wasn’t among those. A boat had carried her to Naath, just to find some peace that at home was missing.
Unfortunately, the slavers found her first.
It was a sour irony. Her people had started an empire based on slavery. The Valyrian Freehold, just like the Ghiscari Empire before it, was based on slavery. The Fourteen Flames were digged by slaves, and even if the Lords of the Dragons convinced themself that only the worst got that fate, nothing could change the truth: the source of their power was in the hands of mere slaves.
Just like she was now in the hands of slavers.
Her family survived by minding their own damn businesses.That much was clear to her. But she was only seven-and-ten. She thought herself invincible and a warrior of justice, which was funny, considering where it had brought her.
In the hold of a slaver’s ships.
Honestly, she was starting to wish she had Daerves with her. That would have defeated the ‘’not being found purpose’’ of her entire trip, but it would have saved her a lot of trouble.
It started in the night.
The Naathi knew her by now, and were quick to accept that weird but peaceful girl from the Dragon Kin. She had her own place to sleep whenever things got rough at home. A little girl had shaken her when the moon was high in sky, her golden eyes shining with terror.
Triple damned slavers.
They caught them both. Danae could have escaped quickly- hiding was what she did best, after all- but Abeni? She was ten years younger than her, and she was shaking with fear. First, they beat Danae, not that she blamed them. She had killed three of them with her twin blades, but when they pointed a knife to the child’s throat, she had to surrender.
Of course, they were separated. The slavers spoke a bastard Valyrian, but she understood them well enough.
They were wondering what in the good gods was a Valyrian girl doing in Naath. After a quick confrontation with the captain, it was resolved by a ‘’She’ll be worth a lot of money’’, and that settled the matter.
It was him, the captain, that she swore to kill first. The bastard- no, that was a compliment to the children born out of wedlock. The piece of scum chained her in his personal cabin first, then made sure to spend a couple of hours playing with her swords.
Unfortunately for Danae’s spirit, that wasn’t the only thing that belonged to her that he was planning to play with.
When he started tearing up her clothes, it wasn’t panic that took ahold of her.
It was pure rage.
She spit in his eye.
When he tried again, she kicked him in the crotch.
Then used her elbow to break his nose.
Only then did he beat her for the first time and left her to bleed on the wooden floor.
After some time- she had gained and lost consciousness more times than she cared to count- he grunted something in his bastard Valyrian and tried touching her again. She broke his nose again.
He chained her on the deck of the ship, without any water or bread. For two days, only moving her down in his cabin during the night. Perhaps he hoped to break her spirit with some sun. Fool.
Danae cursed him under her breath every time he passed near her, until she was allowed to drink and eat.
She passed quite some time like that. Chained in the dark, then in the sun again.
One night, he made the mistake of letting her stay up in the night. She saw the moon. At least one month had passed, if not more.
But most of all, she saw the moon and prayed. The gods that were her mother’s and her mother’s mother before hers.
When her gods answered, it was midday, and she had fainted from the heat.
Apparently, the gods worked through her kin from Old Valyria.
A white-haired warrior- no, there was more than one, or was she seeing double?- was piercing the man that pointed the knife at Abeni’s throat through his belly. And another one was going downstairs to check if there were more.
‘’Wait’’ she tried to say, although her voice was faint from the lack of water. She was lying down on the deck, but her head was suddenly settled on something comfortable.
‘’Grandfather! She’s alive!’’ Yelled a young man- the only brown haired that looked important. He kneeled by her side, and purple met reassuring brown while he helped a water bottle to her broken lips.
‘’No- there are more under. U-unchain me. There’s another way they won’t expect you to take’’ she explained in Westerosi. The young man that helped talked in that language, after all.
‘’Grandfather, it sounds important. Which way?’’ he asked her, and only then did she realize her head was on his legs. But he had brought her water, and she didn’t care.
‘’There is a second trapdoor. The man with a golden ring, spare him. Please’’ she didn’t care for the piece of scum’s life. She simply wanted her revenge.
‘’I’ll stay with her. We have no reason to doubt her.’’ The darkly skinned man, that her savior had called Grandfather, nodded, and yelled a command to his men, that changed their path.
‘’Are you- well, you are definitely not fine, sorry. Do you want more water?’’ her savior asked, brushing some white hair off her face.
‘’Unchain me. Please.’’ she begged. The chains of iron held her down, making it impossible to properly stand, and her wrists were starting to feel the weight of them.
‘’Right. Sorry. Mitchard! Will you come here for a second? Perfect. Mind breaking one link of the chain, please?’’ The man, a dark haired foot soldier, by her judging, obeyed without asking questions. She sighed in relief, taking her hands to her chest.
Her relief was short-lived when the Grandfather of her savior came up again, carrying the piece of scum. Hesitant, she stood up, and limped until she was staring him in his eyes.
Then, with a quick movement, she took the knife from the handle on Grandfather’s waist, ant plunged it into the fucker’s heart.
‘’Die knowing you did not break me. May you find no peace in whatever afterlife you believe in.’’ she hissed, watching the life draining from his eyes, until her savior softly pulled her away from him.
‘’Now, would you mind answering some questions, my lady?’’.
Summary: The ground falls out from beneath Valaena Velaryon’s feet within the span of a week. The week begins with the death of her grandsire, making her mother queen and her Princess of Dragonstone. It ends with the death of her brother Lucerys at the hands of her husband, Aemond Targaryen. From there, Valaena embarks on a perilous journey to win a war against her own kin, forced to discern who are friends and who are foes on both sides of the conflict.
Chapter Eighteen: Intimacy
First Prev/Next
135 A.C.
Standing across from Aemond, Valaena stares him down, slack-jawed. Her skirts sway as Aegon continues to yank persistently at her arm, the boy pleading with her to flee.
Twenty minutes past, a sentry had spied a grape-colored dragon soaring in the distance, and hoping to soften Valaena upon her arrival, Aemond had brought Aegon along to receive her. As soon as the top of his sister’s bobbing head had appeared past the gate, however, the boy had slipped from Aemond’s grasp. Watching him tear across the pavement toward her, Aemond had sorely regretted having brought him along.
Nevertheless, Aegon’s efforts to warn his sister appear to have been for naught, as she had made her way past Dragonstone’s innermost curtain wall despite the boy’s objections. Per Aemond’s instructions, the great doors of the gate behind them are drawn closed, taking both Valaena’s and Aegon’s notice. Aegon is made hysterical by their separation from the bridge, whereas Valaena scarcely twitches for it. She remains rooted to her spot as Aegon hurls himself at the massive, sealed doors, trying to pry them apart with his tiny, bare hands.
Valaena glances back at Aemond. Her form is tense, though it is too far for him to see her exact expression. Just as he begins to grow impatient, wondering if he should further instigate interaction, she is sprung into action. She turns back, rejoining with Aegon and stealing his attention from the gate. Bending, she places her hands on his shoulders and says something to him. He does not take it well, shaking his head, stomping his feet, and shouting out manifold refusals, but she remains firm, nodding at him and doubtlessly repeating herself.
After his protests have died off, she straightens and offers him her hand. He pouts for a moment longer before taking it with a dissatisfied flourish, and together, they walk over to the rest of the receiving party. As they make their approach, Aemond studies Valaena. She bears a strained yet livid demeanor, one that practically glows with her ire. She is incandescent with its intensity, shining like a blaze in which he fervently, recklessly wishes to immerse himself. Her visage is made all the more entrancing by her dragonriding clothes. She is dressed dramatically in Targaryen red and black, her coat topped with blood-red fabric styled in the shape of wings that swallow her neck and shoulders, and her sleeves are made up of black, leather scales. Silver dragons-feet clasps run down her front, and a thick, dark braid down her back.
Once she and Aegon are but a few paces away, Aemond straightens, anticipation coursing through him. In his peripheral vision, he sees Criston brace himself, as well.
Rather disappointingly, Valaena ignores him. She goes first to Alastor. “Lord Swyft,” she greets him, her voice remarkably even but decidedly displeased.
He dips his head, returning, “Princess.”
She takes a step closer to Aemond, stopping this time before Roland. By the look in her eyes, she does not recognize him, though upon glancing down at his house sigil, emblazoned across his doublet, she gleans, “Lord Reyne.”
“My lady,” he replies, his tone surly where Alastor’s was deferential. Subtly, she wrinkles her nose at him before proceeding.
She comes to a halt at Aemond’s left, peering up at him with a hard frost over her eyes. Aegon matches her glare from below. She says nothing, and before he can think to say anything himself, she turns up her nose and stalks past him.
As she clomps up the stairs leading into the castle, the men look to each other in perplexity, thrown by her confidence and the lack of any overt belligerence. She disappears through the hold’s entryway, and Aemond realizes that there is naught to do but chase her.
Hastening after her, he catches up to her as she makes a direct route for Sea Dragon Tower. Aegon trails behind her, keeping his lour on Aemond as they walk. The boy’s docility from the past two weeks is gone, replaced by a protective fury in the presence of his eldest sister.
Valaena strides through the castle like she owns the place, which he supposes she does. She heads straight for the nursery, gliding through the open door on feet so quick that she appears to be hovering above the floor. Aemond comes into the room to find her stooping toward Aenar, who lies on the floor beside his nursemaid. The babe squeals excitedly at the sight of her, pushing himself up on his little arms in his own attempt to reach her.
Lifting him into her arms, Valaena holds him close, relief clear across her face. “Oh, my baby,” she murmurs, burying her nose in his hair and inhaling deeply. She sways from side to side, dandling him in her arms. Aenar, wanting a better look at his mother, pushes back from her embrace to gaze up at her face. He reaches out and runs his pudgy hands along her cheeks, nose, and mouth. She kisses his palm. “Hello, sweetling. Has your father been treating you well?”
Stepping closer to the pair, Aemond revels in seeing them together. Valaena gazes at their son with unadulterated adoration shining in her eyes and an instinctive, irrepressible smile on her lips. Petting his short hair, Aemond answers her question on Aenar’s behalf. “Of course.” As Aenar twists around to gape up at him, Aemond notices Valaena’s eyes on him, as well, though she averts her gaze when she catches his. He does not allow this to deter him from ogling her. With her so close, their child in her grasp, he longs to wind an arm around her and pull her into his side, hold his whole world close.
Aegon breaks through Aemond’s reverie. He wedges himself in between Aemond and Valaena, puffing up in an effort to intimidate the former. Thinking Aemond sufficiently subdued, he turns to Valaena, reaching up to pat along Aenar’s back and clutch at her arm. He tells her, “I looked after him, just as you asked.”
She smooths her hand over Aegon’s head. “Thank you, Brother.” Her eyes lock with Aemond’s over his head, and she swallows roughly as some palpable, ardent emotion passes between them.
He has the impulse to step in close to her again, though it dissolves as she sweeps out of the room, barging past him, Criston, and Alastor. Aegon stays on her heels, and Aemond is left to follow after them again.
She marches downstairs to Jacaerys’s apartment. The guard at the door straightens at the sight of her. In a profoundly authoritative voice, she commands, “Open this door,” and he does so without hesitation.
Aemond makes it to her back just as she strides through the door. Jacaerys stands in the middle of his solar, rigid, though he deflates somewhat when he sees his sister.
Valaena steps carefully around the litter on the floor, ushering Jacaerys into a one-armed embrace and spouting, “Thank the gods for preserving you.” His own arm slung around her, Jacaerys glares at Aemond from over her shoulder.
Aemond, beginning to smart at being the object of her disregard, bites, “Thank me.”
Piqued, she whirls around, her eyes lighting on him and sparking with outrage. Plainly, something sits on her tongue, though after a deep breath, she swallows it. She looks to the soldier standing in the corridor. “Bring the Lady Baela here at once,” she orders, and the man runs off before Aemond can stop him.
Turning back to her brothers, Valaena hands Aenar off to Jacaerys despite his objections. Notwithstanding his agitation, Jacaerys holds the babe well, with the ease and experience of a man with four younger siblings.
With her arms free, Valaena busies herself with picking up Jacaerys’s furniture. Once she has all the seating righted, she enlists Aegon’s help in gathering the other effects strewn about the floor.
Tired of being ignored, Aemond calls, “Valaena.” Steadfast, she continues to neglect him. He repeats her name, and when still, there is no response, he moves toward her.
All three Black siblings move at once, Valaena straightening, Aegon dashing toward her, and Jacaerys stepping in front of Aemond. Aemond stops short, staring down at the man holding his infant son hostage. Aenar is unaware of the tension in the room, heedlessly stuffing the wide collar of his uncle’s shirt into his mouth.
Sharply, Valaena upbraids, “Jace, don’t confront deranged lunatics whilst holding my baby.” She comes around to pluck Aenar back from his arms and hand him off to Aegon, who she thereafter orders to take a seat. She remains standing between Jacaerys and Aemond, who continue to glare malignantly at each other over her head. Pressing her hand to Jacaerys’s chest, she pushes him back a step and murmurs something to him in a low voice. He looks as though he wants to argue, but her head raises, and he relents, biting off a curse. Stepping back, he stomps over to Aegon and Aenar and takes a protective stance over them.
Aemond and Valaena are left together in the lateral part of the room, both of them facing the south window. He shifts closer while she slowly turns toward him, fiddling with her rings. Just as her head turns toward him, her eyes scarcely meet his before they catch on something behind him, and she expeditiously darts around him.
He twists his head in time to see Valaena catch Baela by her outstretched arms as the younger woman makes to attack him. Her muscles straining, she holds Baela back, grunting, “Lyka.”
Baela’s voice wavers—whether from anger, grief, or both, Aemond cannot tell. “He killed Moondancer.”
Closing her eyes, Valaena presses her forehead against Baela’s and digests the revelation. Her hand squeezes around the arm in her grip as Baela tries to push past her once more. She opens her eyes again, promising, “Leave him to me. I shall handle him.”
Provoked, Aemond voices, “You’ll handle me?”
Valaena releases Baela, pivoting toward him. Her face alight with fury, she finally speaks to him. “That’s right.” As Baela moves toward Jacaerys and Aegon, she takes a brash step forward. “Why are you even here? We left Harrenhal for you, ripe for the taking! Why are you here?”
pronouns: she/her
warnings: age gap, infidelity? (daemon has left with Nettles but technically not mentioned yet and they're still married so it depends on your definition of cheating and imagination) smut (at end marked with *)
summary: The rumble in her heart feels wrong as she stares at the new dragonrider, something she has not felt since she met her husband. She needs to learn whether it is of wariness or besotting. slow-burn
wordcount: 3,738 (i warned you it was a big boi)
divider: firefly-graphics
Rhaenyra knew many things and one of those things is that she was more than proud with her eldest son's discoveries. There were not especially many but the dragonseeds who had come forward and tamed the wild dragons had been very appreciated. Though this had been a few moons ago that they had announced their presence in her court so why was this brave girl who stood before her with her chin high and dirt splattered across her face. "I hear you are in need of dragon riders." You stated without the formality of addressing a Queen. Rhaenyra's eyes narrowed. You had claimed Grey Ghost from the Red Keep and flown to Dragonstone of your own volition. She knew all of this before your name or motive for approaching her. Had the Greens sent you? Regardless, her guards stay closely circled around you. How curious of you. You sigh. "I am no criminal so if that sword pokes my back one more time–" You growl out in an unfinished threat. Your head cranes to look at the guilty guard who returns your stare with a snarl. "Then speak." Rhaenyra demands, a sense of royalty dripping from her tone. Her voice stands in strength and ease. You turn your head to her with no sense of urgency but rather a candid expression.
"I wish to aid you, my Queen." She tenses but only momentarily, the title falls from your lips like a vow and she can't help how goosebumps erupt over her skin at the sharpness of your voice.
"Perhaps you should have come while I was free of riders." She snaps, testing you. Her eyes narrow in careful judgement. You only snort at the declaration.
"Perhaps you should remember who I have come from." You return and despite her treatment of you, you stand as though you are regal yourself. Your hair is roped in a single loose braid, you harbour no Valyrian features and yet you speak as though you are The Black Queen yourself, commanding respect. How curious you are indeed.
"You are of the Greens?" She asks with a wall built of caution blocking her opinions concerning this fact. You nod stiffly and she glances over the guards before waving her hand in gesture. "Leave us." She orders. The guards blanch and flicker uncertain glances.
"Your grace, I do not thi–"
"Leave us." She snaps again, this time with a stern stare. The bold guard nods and all turn to bow before reluctantly leaving. "You are a brave little thing, aren't you?" She states as she begins her crisp cautious steps toward you. Her eyes glint in mischief as they venture across you. You stand still as she does so, no remnant of fear in your expression or at least not one she can see.
"I believe so." You answer though she can tell you bristled at the word 'little'. "I also believe that we can help each other." Her brows raise in amusement and she almost laughs as her lips curl upward.
"Each other?" She asks and you nod. "And what do you search for, young thing?" Again you bristle and again she delights in it.
"We both want the same thing. A Targaryen Queen on the throne." She doesn't say anything at first. "Do we not?"
"And why is that?" She folds her arms. "Have you not sworn fealty to my brother? Why would I want a traitor in my midst?" You almost roll your eyes at her.
"I swore to no one." You retort.
"Then what can you offer me?"
"The False King's head." Rhaenyra freezes.
"And how would you do that?"
"He trusts me, has tried to take me as a lover. So long as you confirm my security as a member of your court, I will return, trick him into security and kill him."
"The False King's head." Rhaenyra freezes.
"And how would you do that?"
"He trusts me, has tried to take me as a lover. So long as you confirm my security as a member of your court, I will return, trick him into security and kill him." Silence enraptures the both of you and yet she can't seem to divert her heavy gaze from your piercing eyes.
"Why would they trust you? My brother may be a drunkard but he and his court are not full of fools."
"I claimed to be their spy." Your answer is instantaneous, prepared. A strange pride swells in the Queen's chest. "That I would bear you false loyalty and return to them." She eyes you carefully and takes another step closer. "House me for a moon's time and I will deliver the false King's head."
"I will..." Rhaenyra hesitates. "consider your offer. For now you may stay in guest chambers until you can be trusted." You huff but agree. You expect her to call in her guards but instead she extends her arm. Your brows furrow and your sights descend on it warily. Her lip curls in amusement. "Take it." She directs and reluctantly you do so. The doors open and close around you and you can feel the critical eyes of the Black court. It's a long walk until you reach your new chambers and you're surprised they're not barred or cells. Rhaenyra tilts her head to a guard who opens the large doors and your eyes widen at the luxury. "You will be staying here until I deem your offer a success. You will be well-cared for." You nod and take in the chambers as she slips from you, taking her warmth with her.
It's late when you join her for dinner, she has likely been held up with her council. You are led to a large dim room with a long wooden table in the centre. Rhaenyra sits at the head and she stands to beckon you at her side. It's late when you join her for dinner, she has likely been held up with her council. "Good eve." She greets. "I had hoped the kitchens would have had the sense to send dinner for you but apparently not." Her voice lowers to a grumble as she seats herself and you nervously follow her example in your own chair. She rests her chin on an enclosed fist and rests her elbow over the table.
"They may think me your prisoner." You answer coolly. She squints in question. "I have not left my chambers since I arrived and I have been escorted there by yourself." She hums in understanding and moves her arm once servants begin to laden plates of hot food before you both. "Do you not dine with your children?" You ask warily, aware of how the question comes across. Her gaze snaps to you and she raises her brows.
"Not as of late, I have found myself to be quite busy." The minimal conversation comes to an end with your nod then a laugh escapes your plush lips. Her heart thrashes against itself as her eyes focus on you. "I suppose that makes sense." Your eyes meet as you flicker your gaze up to her and a quick laugh parts both your lips simultaneously to ease your shoulders. Tension leaves with the motion and again Rhaenyra's heart clenches.
For a brief moment her gentle eyes flicker over your face but just as easily as the flame of an idea erupts, it's extinguished. You both turn to your food and lift your forks in-sync. "Are you enjoying your stay?" She asks then mentally scolds herself. "Your chambers must be quite different than you're used to." You nod and hum.
"I suppose I've never really stayed anywhere long enough to enjoy it but I'd like to see the Dragon's Trail and Aegon's garden." Her brows raise in surprise.
"I could show you, if you'd like." Rhaenyra's soft voice suggests, shooting tingles along your already present goosebumps. "It's rather lovely."
"I'd like that." You respond, lips curling. She nods and the dinner presumes in a majority of silence. Once she's finished, she surprisingly waits for you.
"I will escort you to your chambers." She states and again you nod, letting her lead you through the lengthy halls. Her guards follow behind you both but it still feels intimate with her arm wrapped in yours.
"I think we will move forward with your plan." She announces. You frown and look at her.
"I was expecting for you to need more time."
"Do you want me to take more time?" Her tone is threatening but her smile betrays her.
"No!"
"Then it's settled." You reach your doors and both your hands glide into each other's. "I will leave you to rest and retrieve you in the morning for the gardens." You bite your lip and your eyes flicker in mischief.
"Will you not have any council meeting, my Queen?" She ignores how her heart quickens at the remark.
"I believe they are quite capable of waiting." She returns, stepping closer. Heat emanates between you, slowly building to a sparking flash of hidden emotion but just when she's about to close in, you step back and unleash one hand to open the door.
"I'll see you then, my Queen." Her eyes flutter shut at the title and there's so much burning attraction spitting to claw up her throat that she doesn't notice at first when you slip away from her. When her eyes open, she grins and shakes her head at the closed door, gently running a hand along it as she murmurs in High Valyrian.
The next morning, Rhaenyra stays true to her word and collects you for a walk in the gardens. She elected handmaidens to prepare you that morning and it doesn't slip your notice that the dress she has laid out for you is as black as coal and as beautiful as something she herself would wear. It was fit for The Black Queen. Your fingers trail the large arch you walk through as she spreads tales of how, when and why it was built. "What do you think of it, your grace?" You ask once she has paused. Her head turns to you as she thinks.
"I think it is almost as beautiful as you are." She comments cheekily and you chuckle. "I liked it on the rare times I could visit Dragonstone as a child well." You hum.
"Yes, I remember how I used to dream about what it would look like." you utter, taking in every new sight as if it were your first. "I was born in Dragonstone myself." Rhaenyra nods with a smile.
"You continue to surprise me, my lady."
"I am no lady." You quip with a lazy grin of your own.
"No but you will be once I've retrieved my crown." Your brows shoot up. She looks over you from head to toe. "You should not be surprised that I will reward your valiant efforts."
"I admit I have not heard of your...generosity."
"Ah yes," She looks down. "They call me 'Maegor with teats' now don't they? I suppose it is well deserved."
"They have never had to fight for their own rightful crown." You retort, spinning in front of her and taking her hands in your own. You remove one so that you may caress her cheek gently. She melts into it without thinking, without her shield. "You are much stronger than any of them and they are foolish to cast ridicule on those who have fought tooth and nail for their very being." Her breathing stutters at the passion behind your teeth. Rhaenyra collects herself with a deep breath and nods, you continue your walk but as you pass an array of wild roses she plucks one and extends it to you.
"My lady," She teases and you roll your eyes at the sweet gesture.
"Whatever would I do without you?" You ask and she bites back a snide remark. She's impulse but even knows what is too far. "It is almost as beautiful as you are." You respond with a wink, referencing her own words back to her. She gasps and chuckles.
"I am looking forward to having you at my side. Perhaps a royal advisor." She suggests.
"I would be honoured but let us not get ahead of ourselves." Your chest constricts and you stiffen. "After I kill the King, I may not be able to return to you which is why you should keep close with Syrax before news breaks out." Her brows furrow.
"Whyever should you not return to me?"
"The Green Queen does not trust me very well and so I doubt she will leave him unprotected at any time unless we..." You swallow. "join with one another." She almost shivers in discomfort at the word but settles for wrinkling her nose.
"Ah."
"But I do not wish to give him my maidenhead." Her eyes widen.
"You mean that you are...?"
"Yes." She nods slowly.
"I see well, we will take every precaution to ensure your safety." Rhaenyra turns your face to her again and her warm smile soothes your tense muscles. You return a gentle nod and continue walking together.
*The moon comes to pass much quicker than you imagined and you currently sit anxiously on your bed. You have a big decision to make that will undoubtedly change your fate forever. Next eve you will be back in the Red Keep and surrounded by vipers and vultures watching your every move. Your thoughts are halted quickly when a resounding composed knock raps at your door. You stand in reflex as it opens and reveals your Queen, long snow hair tumbling down her face in soft waves and her body wrapped in a nightgown as red as blood. Your eyes meet but neither of you stand rigid. She clears her throat. "My lady Y/n." She murmurs but stays still. You bow your head for a mere moment.
"My Queen." Your throat goes dry.
"Your Rhaenyra." She corrects softly, as quick as you can take the change, her hands are grasping at your sides and her lips embrace yours. You gasp and she takes the opportunity to probe you with her tongue gently. Before she pulls away, she captures your lower lip in a light tug between her teeth. "I may not seem as patient as I appear." Her voice is more mellifluous than you have ever heard it. Your fingers roam to her hair and play with it. She flutters her eyes shut. "I know what I want. Do you?" Her murmuring voice shoots direct and firm but not forceful as her grip loosens. You nod. "Say it."
"I want you." Just as quickly as the words leave your lips, she pounces on you. You stumble back against the bed and whine quietly against her. Her left hand skips upward to curve around your breast and she plucks gently at your nipple as though your body were an instrument for her to attract your song. You don't disappoint, a breathy moan escaping you as Rhaenyra begins to unlace your dress with quick fervour. She begins threading kisses along your cheek and down your neck. "He doesn't deserve you." She utters against your skin, trickling into the crevice of your newly released breasts. "He never will."
Rhaenyra's warm wet kisses continue until they reach your stomach, Your breath hitches. "Please." You whisper, barely aware of what you are asking for as a soft pink haze clouds your vision and inhibitions.
"What's my name?" She asks, hot breath cloaking the place you most desperately need her, the place no one except yourself buried in duvets and the dark night has touched. "Rhaenyra." You finally sound and her lips descend on you, her tongue flicking out to taste your growing moisture, drinking it in like an elixir. "Sweet girl, you've been waiting for me." You whine and she smirks, you can feel the twitch in her lips which send a jolt through you. At your motion, she giggles girlishly and pets at your thigh. "Don't worry, darling, I'm here to take care of you now." You hiss once her lips close in on your plush pink pearl, sucking it into her mouth greedily. The Queen feels as if she has been deprived of drink as she tips her mouth to dip her tongue in your slit. She groans at the soft moan you emit. Rhaenyra's hands enclose around your hips and hold you against the mattress as her tongue experiments–it has been a long time since she has been so intimate with another woman. Goosebumps erupt over your skin, hot air encases you and sweat pools at your brow all the while her tongue thrusts, thrusts, thrusts into you. Pleasure ensnares you like her sweetest prey, her lady trembling with ecstasy beneath her. Your mind runs rampant with every word–every endearment–she has ever spoken to you. Your dew floats in her mouth like the most delightful nectar and she thinks for a moment perhaps you aren't needed in any harms way, maybe she can keep you for herself and find another way to take back her throne but you both know this is the only way such an event will occur. So you enjoy your last night together.
"Eventually your high shoots through the glass barrier it has been pushing against and you cum onto her tongue with a guttural moan. You sink into the mattress which is growing damp with your pleasure. Your breath rises in shaky bursts while she sweeps her mouth over your sensitive bud. You whimper to which she chuckles and tuts. "Do not worry, sweet girl." She looks up at you, face softening. "I am here for you tonight, you needn't cower." Then she drags a lithe finger to your weeping cunt. "Do you not want more, dōna riña?" She teases you gently and you jump at the contact. She laughs again but not out of malice. She rises to her elbows and towers over you. "I think you should understand how perfect you are, darling." You notice her hand hovers over your mouth. "Will you please your Queen?" She purrs like a proud feline at you. You nod and instantly she peels apart your lips to submerge her finger in your warm mouth. Her eyes are as half-lidded as a crescent moon. She praises you by humming. "I knew you'd be good for me." Your own tongue flitters over the finger, swirling to clean it, to taste yourself on her. "Eventually your high shoots through the glass barrier it has been pushing against and you cum onto her tongue with a guttural moan. You sink into the mattress which is growing damp with your pleasure. Your breath rises in shaky bursts while she sweeps her mouth over your sensitive bud. You whimper to which she chuckles and tuts. "Do not worry, sweet girl." She looks up at you, face softening. "I am here for you tonight, you needn't cower." Then she drags a lithe finger to your weeping cunt. "Do you not want more, dōna riña?" (sweet girl) She teases you gently and you jump at the contact. She laughs again but not out of malice. She rises to her elbows and towers over you. "I think you should understand how perfect you are, darling." You notice her hand hovers over your mouth. "Will you please your Queen?" She purrs like a proud feline at you. You nod and instantly she peels apart your lips to submerge her finger in your warm mouth. Her eyes are as half-lidded as a crescent moon. She praises you by humming. "I knew you'd be good for me." Your own tongue flitters over the finger, swirling to clean it, to taste yourself on her.
"I want you to remember this when you go tomorrow. I want you to remember your Queen." Her firm voice rumbles in your ear as he leans even closer before popping her finger out of your mouth and drifting it onto your hardened nipple. She tweaks and plays with it, rolling it through her fingertips regardless of how you throw your head back and whine. Her lips press long kisses to your cheeks but once more her finger presses to the pearl of your pleasure. "Relax, my wild one." The finger then curls itself into your opening and probes deep. You hiss but at the sound she stops and slowly retracts and pushes in again in a slow rhythm. She hushes you softly and kisses your lips and it's only then that you notice she has already discarded her nightgown, our own breasts pressing to yours. Her heart beats rapidly against you when she introduces a second finger. Your breath freezes and your eyes close tightly. Her thumb rubs gentle circles atop your clit. "Aw," She coaxes. "my beautiful dragon. My pretty pretty dragon." She glides her body back down to your slit and marvels at you. Her tongue darts out to flick over your sensitive bud and she sends a course of vibrations through you in a moan. She pulls back from tasting you, head tipped up so her dilated pupils can connect with your face. Your body jolts upward as she continues to pump her fingers. "Are you going to cum, my sweet dragon? Will you cum for your Queen?" Gentle whimpers tumble from your mouth like prayers as you babble agreements.
"Yes." You breathe. "Oh yes, please."
"Then cum, ñuha dōna zaldrīzes." (my sweet dragon). You moan as you clench around her, your hand bunching the sheets beneath you. Her tongue circles your bud and when you finally release in a sharp inhale of air, her tongue eagerly slips inside you to drink every inch of your wetness. Slowly as you flood down from your high, her fingers leave you so she can swallow all of you down and when she's sated, she grins and pushes her fingers onto her tongue. Her fingers leave with a pop and she slithers up to your side. Rhaenyra moulds you to lay around her, tugging your arm to land across her stomach while she strokes your hair. She hums an ancient tune and kisses your temple.
"You're so perfect for me, dōna zaldrīzes." Her lips smile softly. "You are going to be a darling consort, I promise you." You float away into sleep to the sound of her heartbeat.
