Hello, I’m Writing This At Over Two In The Morning. As You Could See I Did Not Post A Text This Sunday,

Part 5 of "Breathe, everything will be fine"

Masterlist: here

Abstract : The arrival of a dragon in the north is not common, Daemon on his back was even more surprising.

Pairing: Daemon x Fem Chubby reader

Edit : I just edited several errors and a paragraph doubled by errors I hope it will be more readable

The night was dark, clouds covered the sky, the light wind coming from the north took the cold of the wall to the castle, the window of your room was open, you looked outside. The branches of the trees moved in heart, only the torches of the guards illuminated the earth, the few distant houses had their lights off for several hours.

The serenity of the places allowed you to find a form of calm, you tried to recapitulate the past events, see where you could have been at fault, you tried to understand, but did not succeed completely. You tried not to mope about yourself, life went on and the future could be positive, you just had to believe strongly enough.

For several weeks you watched the arrival of heralds and crows, all were intercepted by the guards, you tried to read the messages, but Suzanne always found a way to get away from your objective, whether by taking you to another section of the castle to find books, or by going through the kitchens, offering you a new embroidery motif, etc. at a rare moment you heard your father shouting through the door leading to the great hall.

«Never!... Can... dream»

Watching the heralds, you could see that they were messengers from the capital. It was true that you no longer received crows from Daemon and that worried you. Not for yourself or that he has indeed manipulated you, but of a possible conflict that would be played out in the capital, because between the conflict north of the wall and another at King’s Landing, the north would have been torn.

Suzanne had you insured two days before, King’s Landing wasn’t in danger. The same morning she heard your parents talking in the large room after the visit of a first herald. According to her, their discussions were heated, the main cause being the prince.

 “Apparently, the prince will ask for your hand, he has made several proposals.” Suzanne was focused on her embroidery, a shy smile on her lips.

"Really?" You were looking at Suzanne, both surprised and doubtful.

“Recently, the king himself would have sent messengers. Daemon would be visibly furious. That’s all I could hear.”

"Furious?"

"Who knows my lady, perhaps he is truly in love with you. You know the prince’s temperament better than anyone in this castle."

“He’s not unconscious either, Suzanne.”

“Perhaps your union will ease the trials between your two families?”

Suzanne had a point, you were hoping she was right.

That night, it was late when a noise came out of your contemplation, it seemed to you to be a great cry, it did not seem human to you, rather like a very big animal, much larger than the bears living in the forest bordering the castle. A few minutes later, a warm wind was felt, you looked out your window, the guards hurried out of the castle, the few servants still standing and outside entering the castle. When once again the roar was heard, this time you were looking in its direction, the darkness that reigned because of the cloudy sky, was illuminated in an instant, huge flames split the air. With wide eyes you watched the scene, a dragon passed in the north, it seemed for a long time that a dragon was so far in the north, from Aegon the conqueror if you remembered the writings of the books of Red Keep.

Your heart began to palpate, your hands became moist, your mouth dry, why would a dragon fly so far? The answer was quickly found when he landed, frightening the guards, armed with their swords, trembling but remaining in formation. A movement on the dragon made you observe it more assiduously, this form was humanoid, he rose from what seemed to be a saddle, he descended with ease from the animal. The form approached the guards and it was there that you could distinguish a hair, long and clear hair, a dragon with a long neck. It was to be none other than a certain prince.

Daemon came in person to the castle, your first reflex was to want to get out of your room, to be at his side. Placing your hand on the clinch of the door and opening it, you were greeted by Sir Geubert, standing in front of your room, his back was facing you. 

"Stay inside your room lady Y/n. please." Sir Geubert was on his guard.

“Good.”

You closed the door, returning to your window, Caraxes was lying on the ground, his head staring at the guards, Daemon entered the castle accompanied by several knights of your house. But you were looking for an excuse to go out for any reason.

Your parents were awakened by servants, your father was bitterly hurried, your mother was wearing her dressing gown and a long robe adapted to the cold climate of the northern night.

The great hall, whose walls adorned with enormous stone block, was lit by a few torches, a fire was lit in haste. Daemon was standing in the room, looking around him, the walls were adorned with torches, some flags and tapestries in the colors of your house. The ceiling was adorned with a large chandelier made of wood from trees and deer, heavy candles were placed there. The lighting gave warm tones to the room, but the large shadows which the torches created brought a gloomy side to the place. If for you it was the house, for Daemon, the place was freezing. 

The door opened revealing your father, dressing in dark trousers and a tunic with the main color of your family, resting on a shirt of an off-white. His features were drawn by lack of sleep, his gaze fell on the prince, he stared at him for several minutes. Before entering the room. Your father standing in front of the chair being dedicated to him at the big table, when he spoke.

"What are you doing here, Prince Daemon?" There was a kind of disdain in his voice.

“You know the answer to this question.”

“So you can parade around the city?  What did you put in her head?”

"What am I putting? Nothing that wasn’t there already."

"You have corrupted her!"

“Oh, I can’t be accused of that.”

Daemon was having fun with your father’s anger. But he was here for something more important, if he couldn’t use the same technique he used for his brother, he had to be more honest with your father. He had learned of the pride of the north, of their loyalty and courage, but all this could be eroded when honour was tainted.

“I came to marry Y/n." Daemon spoke calmly, too calmly.

"You will never have her hand!"

“If not me, who? Stark? His child is too young for her and the Lord is old. Bolton? Bastard who already humiliated her?! I’ll burn it alive. Oh maybe Baratheon? Or Lannister? Your house is too small for their own ambitions.”

Your father was furious from the inside, veins were beginning to appear/grown on his face.

“How many suitors showed interest? How many at least try to court her?”

Daemon was staring at your father, several times you had explained to him the arrangements between your family and others. How just one interview ended quickly, how young men hardly looked at you, rare were those who forced themselves to be kind, they did not see beyond their cock, Daemon often said to himself, they did not see what he saw. In the silence of your father Daemon resumed.

“How do you think she feels? Have you bothered to look beyond your own ambition?”

"This is my daughter!"

“What confuses your mind, although I see that there is not only a desire for power, you would have already accepted my demands.”

"She will not marry, a person of your family to degenerate! You Targaryens, the inbreds! Your line is doomed to the darkness of this world! But not her!"

Daemon will be fists, clenched his jaw. That he insulted him, but not his house.

“Even on my deathbed, you don’t marry her! I’d marry her to a peasant, you don’t! May she be happy or not!”

Daemon advanced with a fast and dangerous step, his hand resting on the knob of Dark sister. Knights were rushing to the door to intervene. But this did not bring back the anger that reigned in the room. Your father caught in his alas continued.

“What matters is that she has an heir! No matter who she marries, they just didn’t understand that it was just that! I don’t care if they go somewhere else! Get out of my house!"

Your father kept screaming, Daemon’s blood was bubbling in his veins, how could he speak so of you? He looked at the two guards in front of him, it would have been easy for him to disarm them, then he looked towards the open door, there were several knights posted there, he recognized this young knight whom he had beaten at the tournament and who was left beside you. Sir Gaubet? Goubert? 

The gaze of Daemon was drawn by a round shape half hidden behind the knight, the prince’s anger was coming down at full speed, he had become worried. How long have you been a spectator? He was watching you, your eyes were red, your lower lip was shaking. The rage that Daemon felt began to multiply, you did not look at him, the wounded look was not intended for him, this look was intended for another man. Daemon turned to your father. As he was about to speak another voice interrupted him. A woman’s voice.

"Husband! That’s enough!"

Your mother had just entered the room, forcing you to enter. 

"We shall speak again tomorrow, your words are foolish." She turned to the prince. “If you allow it, you will spend the night at the castle or you can still sleep with your dragon outside.”

Daemon turned to the door and walked towards it, he approached you, his gaze had softened while watching you, but you ran away not paying attention to those around you. Geubert left after you, Daemon followed him closely, the others could fuck off, you were important to him. Far more important than you could have imagined, Westeros could burn if it allowed him to be by your side.

The end of the night was agitated, Geubert kept your door, preventing the prince from approaching you, which enraged the prince.

“I know you’re loyal to this house, but she doesn’t need a guard.”

“How can you know what she wants or needs?”

The sound of the door opening made them turn in this direction.

"Sir Geubert, they will know nothing, let him in."

“They will know at some point.”

“You’re not going to the night watch.”

“That’s not my concern, Lady Y/N.”

“Please.” Your voice was just a whisper

“Very good.”

Sir Geubert shifted, letting Daemon into your room. He sighed, this situation hurt him, he didn’t want anything bad to happen to you. He wouldn’t forgive himself.

Your room was changing from the apartments in King’s Landing, it was much smaller, but large enough to have organized a full-foot wardrobe, a table where there were several heavy books, an oak chair engraved on the feet. A fairly large window adorned with a thick and dark curtain, to are opposite was a small chimney, from which embers slowly lighted the ground near. Two carpets covered the floor with wood, one near the table and the other covering the floor near your bed. This one was large, covered with several pillows as well as heavy blankets and fur. 

You were standing in the middle of the room. Daemon looked at you, his heart was palpitating. Several months had passed since that night. Didn’t have time to talk to you properly, had any news. You were the first to break the stillness of the moment by placing your arms around his torso and placing your head against his torso. He hastened to hold you against him, 

“I was so worried, I didn’t hear from you…”

"I have sent you many crows," he placed his hands on your face, raising your head towards him.

“They must have intercepted them…”

With his thumb he began to caress your cheek, smiling at you, finally you were reunited. Looking at him you could see the Daemon you knew, the soft look, a smile you never want him to go from his lips. In the great hall you could only witness the cries of your father and his hurtful words. A moment of doubt settled in you.

"Why do you want to marry me?" Your words were barely whispered, you were surprised when Daemon answered you.

"Do you still not know? Or is it their words that cloud your mind? I love you Y/n. He laid his forehead against yours. “Avy jorrāelan tolī than mirros else isse se vys”

“I love you too, Daemon.”

Your words were so simple to say to him, his few words gave you the impression of having less weight on your shoulders, your lips were gently touching before a kiss was exchanged. It was as if time had not passed since the tournament. You placed a hand in her hair, one of his hands came down from your face and into the hollow of your kidneys. Seconds are minutes, minutes are hours. Still dressed, you sat on the bed, your head against his chest, you listened to him talk about his last weeks at the Red Keep, how he had made the decision to see you against his brother’s advice.

"Fuck the lords, they think what they want."

You fall asleep in his arms, the sound of his voice relaxing you enough to be able to sleep.

It was the rays of the sun that woke you, in the mist between sleep and awakening, you felt a mass around your bust. You gently raised your head and saw an arm, following his arm, you noticed long silver wire against your shoulder. Daemon had spent the night at your side. You turned slowly and gently, to face him. His facial features were relaxed, his breathing calm, his hair was on the pillow, giving your pillow y/f/c silver tones. Daemon was undressing during the night leaving himself only in trousers.

You put your hand against one of his shoulders, the warmth that Daemon gave off, contrasted with the sweet morning ice break. Slowly, you began to caress his shoulder with your fingertips, rising very slowly towards his neck, then his cheek. You didn’t want to wake him up, since the time you imagined waking up with him, you wanted this moment to last as long as possible.

This was without counting on Suzanne and Sir Geubert.

Suzanne knocked on the door, it was time to prepare for the day to come, Sir Geubert was the first to open the door, hand on the knob of his sword. The sound of the door awakened Daemon, who jumped up.

"Sir Geubert?" You looked at the knight, worried.

“Your servant arrived, The prince better get out before there are more servants in the halls.” Geubert was on the defensive.

Daemon, hair tangled, looked at the knight, a mixture of disdain and fatigue.

“He’s not wrong, Daemon…”

"Fuck the servants."

“I know… but let’s not have accusations…please.” You looked at Daemon with all the sweetness that anything could show her.

Daemon sighed, grabbing his shirt and shoes, he got dressed and started leaving your room not without a kiss on your forehead.

The night was not great advice for your father, he continued to rant during the interview with Daemon, your mother was present too.

You were in the hallway leading to the big room, sitting on one of the benches there. One of your legs was shaking, you were looking at the door closed, Suzanne kept you company, embroidering and trying to reassure you with her words. But it did not help you, no words beyond the door were audible, nothing could predict whether what was being played would be good or bad.

Many of the knights posted at the door and in the corridor could see very clearly, the anxiety that was gnawing at you, many felt bad for you, they knew how your father was.

It was only in the early afternoon that the door was opened, you stood up with your hands clasped in the centre of your chest.

Sir Reinfrid, who was inside, looked at you and shook his head, they couldn’t come to an agreement.

It was outside the castle that you found Daemon, He was observing the landscape that you were so familiar with. You’re taking a step back, not wanting to be too much on him.

“I want to marry you according to the Valyrian tradition, no one can contradict our union.”

Daemon had begun to speak, always looking at the horizon. Your heart began to beat faster, you approached him, placing one hand on his shoulder. Daemon turned towards you, pushing a hand on your cheek.

“Let’s go, we’ll go wherever you want, Caraxes can take us away from Westeros if that’s what you want.”

“Daemon…”

“Be my wife.”

Daemon’s voice was tender, it is true that you wanted above all to be at his side, but your family was also important. Daemon took you in his arms, you could smell him, it relaxed you. The decision was not easy to make, but he filled you in a way that no one could do it that you listened to your heart rather than reason. You agreed.

In no time, you and Daemon found yourself in front of Caraxes and before you even understood it, you were on the back of the dragon, Daemon in front of you, holding the Carax straps. The takeoff was fast, you were holding on to Daemon, trying not to scream, your heart beating so fast that you thought it would explode. The cold north wind pricked your face, you buried it in his back.

You didn’t notice that beneath you, as you left the shimmering room, knights galloped towards the castle, the Stark standard floating. 

Translation:

Avy jorrāelan tolī than mirros else isse se vys / I love you more than anything else in the world

Tag list :

@the-phantom-of-arda

@tinypnut

Teaser " Not wanted"

Pairing : Daemon Targaryen x Chubby fem reader

Summer : "The silver hair of the prince was blown by the slight breeze, his purplish gaze burned with an anger worthy of his dragon. Y/n although set back could observe the scene unfolding in front of her eyes. Daemon was in front of her father, Dark sister in hand."

Author’s note: Hi, I propose to tease a writing, that I wrote to clear my head of a day or even more, complicated.

---

There is a feeling, or will it be instinct, which tells you quietly that you are not wanted in a place, it can happen everywhere, whether in school, in the street, at work, but also in the family.

This feeling grows over time and it is not pleasant, the worst being the evening when the truth comes out. When your father is drunk with all the alcohol he has drunk since the beginning of the afternoon explains to you that you will never be born, that your life you owe to your mother who wanted more than anything in the world a child. That explains, a lot of things, like never having a "congratulations" when you achieve something, or a "I’m proud of you, I love you my daughter". No. Never, just "Did you see how fat you are?" "Stop reading", "Why don’t you read?" , being cut off at every moment, "Shut up!" followed by "Why don’t you answer me?". Little by little, all your self-esteem eventually crumbles, by a member of your closest family. There is also this question, "What would I do alone?" The moments when you imagine running away.

Being born on Westeros is not a dream life, whether we are peasants or nobles, we have our own personal hell. Yours is your father. Although not wanted, your father decided to do something with you, and marrying a second-rate lord was a good solution. His son, born of a first union, was already married to a lady from your region, strengthening the ties of the two families.

His son, he saw it differently, for him he had nothing to reproach himself. But to all the others, he was a frightful asshole, who amused himself by threatening servants and lords of smaller house than yours. Manipulating everyone around you, going so far as to threaten you, morally and physically, explaining clearly, that the day your father died, he would put you at the door of your castle. But you were just a ball and chain. Your father did not want to marry you, at the very beginning, prefer that no one speaks of you or shows interest, waiting for the coming years, he ends up wanting to see you leave with a lord, he could not see you when he was drunk, insulting you with various sentences, more or less painful, explaining that nobody would want you, the least that nothing. Deep down, he was bubbling, refusing to accept that someone was interested in you.

During the various tournaments in which he participated as spectator, he tried to find you a husband in vain, he reproached you, while it was his fault, because no lords had seen you in the flesh. The lords are trying hard to convince him to get you out of the castle, wanting to see who this misterieuse young woman was.

A date was chosen, those of the games organized by Lord Baratheon, for the adoubement of his eldest son.

The post-tournament

 Part 3 of « Breathe, … » and The tourament.

 Abstract : You go looking for the prince to congratulate him on his victory at the jousting tournament, without knowing the events that happened at the Red Keep.

Pairing : Daemon Targaryen x Fem Chubby reader

Disclaimer : English is not my mother tongue, so if there are mistakes I’m sorry, I continue to learn and the correction sites are not without mistakes either 

Edit : So I just corrected some mistakes that its past through my correction, and added a whole paragraph that was found missing (thanks Word, why did you do that now?) I’m going to need a beta reader

The streets were crowded, rare were the times when you were allowed to walk in them, whether alongside Suzanne or knights, the streets of King’s Landing were not the safest 

The streets were lit with torches and candles, which gave the place an orange tone. You could not distinguish clearly from the dialogues of the people around you, because music was crossing the streets, camouflaging their words. Your heart was pounding, watching street shows, whether it was the fire-eaters, the tightrope walkers and jugglers. No matter where you looked, there were new discoveries.

You came out of your daydreams feeling your hand being pulled gently, you moved your head in the direction of the movement and saw his purplish eyes. Daemon would lead you down one of the smaller streets, moving you with some difficulty, once in the dark, he would put his index finger on his mouth, you would send him a questioning look, when metal noises and screaming people were heard. The music stopped, Daemon watched in stealth the street from which you came. You looked at the features of his face, lingering over his eyes, which showed irritation, his jaw that seemed to be tense and his lips closed where his smile had disappeared.

Sounds of metal were heard, sense of doubt knights.

“We have to go.”

Daemon had just whispered his words in your ear, you then left, walking at once quickly and discreetly as far as possible, You sincerely doubted that you could be discreet when you pushed a few people while walking quickly away from a place where cries were heard.

The more you advanced in the streets, the more the sounds of armor were heard, Daemon ended up working a door and you slipped there together. You looked around you, observing that you had entered a medium-spaced room, where several tables and chairs were arranged, the stone walls were accompanied by buttresses made of wood, two pillars framed the counter or a man wearing an apron wiping a mug with a cloth of off-white stains. Several tables were occupied by guests busy with food and drink. You were in one of the King’s Landing hostels. 

Daemon was walking towards the counter without removing the hood covering his head, you were following him, always holding his hand.

“Wine and y/f/d”

You walked to a table away, allowing you to be in the shadows, the customers didn’t pay attention except for a younger person, but you didn’t notice, but he was looking at you.

You looked at Daemon, smiling at him, avoiding laughing, thinking about what had just happened. He was looking at you, too, with a light in his eyes and a smile on his face.

Earlier in the day.

The tournament of jousts had just ended, you had made the decision to go to the tents of the knights, to be more precise, to see how Sir Geubert and Daemon were doing, their fight had been quite violent and although Geubert had lost, He was serving your family, and you wanted to congratulate him for coming this far in the tournament.

The aisles leading to the tents were spaced far enough so that the hundreds of spectators could move about without interfering too much with the passage of knights, servants and mestres. You passed several tents where knights were preparing for the next béhourd, armor was tied, teams were composed in two ways either knights represented a noble family or less noble, either they formed teams of knights from different backgrounds, who fought for the money they could win in these competitions, or to show their values to the houses to serve them later. 

Many people were gathering around these tents trying to watch the future fighters jostle at the same time.

As she continued to walk towards Sir Geubert’s tent, Suzanne quietly squeaked as she watched a knight assist by several servants and a blacksmith to remove his armour, it was pushed in places. Not enough to break a bone, but enough to prevent him from removing his armor, the blacksmith using several tools, extricated the poor man, slowly, but effectively.

"Do you think he’s in pain, lady y/n?"

“If he doesn’t hurt now, he’s lucky.”

After a few minutes of curiosity, whispers were heard.

“It’s the knight…”

“The Prince…fought…”

Climbing up and down on your toes, Suzanne was holding your arm, trying to help you not lose balance. You looked between the heads of the people in front of you, it is with difficulty that you could observe Sir Reinfrid, open the march, your mother was behind him surround other knights of your house. Sir Geubert was next to your mother, you were losing your balance shortly before they arrived in front of the blacksmith. Taking Suzanne with you, you hold onto a young woman’s shoulder.

"Can’t you be careful?" His screaming voice made your teeth grind.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was soft, remaining calm in the face of her annoyance.

After a minute of staring at you, a semblance of a flash passed through her dark gaze. She stepped back a little.

“Oh, you’re the fat one.” She put more emphasis on “The”.

You did not answer, you did not know this person and did not remember having seen her at Red Keep, or at other tournaments, but she seemed to know you, no doubt she had been a spectator at the games. 

A second person turned around, after being pushed by the first young woman.

"Oh yes, the prince’s cow." You watched them, listening to the beating heart.

“Your family must have a lot of money for the prince to ask for your favor.” His words were filled with disdain.

“Or he must have mercy on you.” 

“If no one wanted you, it’s not going to change now.” A third person had just entered their monologues.

You felt an unpleasant heat rising in your body. You were stepping back. Your ears buzzed, you did not answer them, more by habit of humiliations than by not wanting to defend yourself, you looked at them, raising your gaze slowly towards a knight who passed the crowd. Sir Reinfrid arrived, his gaze was severe, his jaw clenched.

« Leave her, now ! » His voice sounded like thunder. 

It was not the first time that Sir Reinfrid had to intervene, the more the years went by and the more wicked people became in their words his help was most pleasant when Suzanne was not at your side.

The group that had formed went away under the gaze of Sir Reinfrid. You bowed your head gently thanking him for his help. Your mother, who was in retreat with Sir Geubert, sighed at you for a few seconds before moving towards the blacksmith who had stopped in his work, to ask him to help Geubert with his armour.

Sir Geubert, had his chest strap in places, his armor had held under the blows of Daemon, but it was visible that the fight had been aggressive. By the visible blows on the armor but also by the swellings that were running through his face.

"You fought well, Sir Geubert." You smiled softly at him.

"Thank you lady Y/n. "

Sir Reinfrid had approached to whisper.

“Your mother will talk to you when the time comes, go to Red keep and stay safe.”

Sir Geubert, had gone away approaching two knights of your house they ordered them to escort you. Surrounded by these two knights, you started walking with Suzanne. You go in the direction you took with Suzanne, continuing the planned route, walking along the aisles

You passed several tents of houses such as the Baratheon, or Tyrell, you greeted some members of the Tyrell family, because although your houses are far away by distance, they were starting from the few with whom conversations were always pleasant. Maybe they had an obligation to be or it was just kindness, you didn’t want to know. You’re afraid you won’t like the answer.

“The prince seems to have an interest in you Lady Y/n." Lady Tyrell was always posing in her words and a sweet smile on her lips.

“Oh… it looks like it is.” You were trying to keep your voice soft, trying not to show any signs of nervousness.

“Be careful, the prince can be unpredictable when he wants. If anything happens, you’re always welcome in Highgarden, young lady.”

Without the opportunity to thank her, knights of Targaryen colors arrived, interrupting your conversation, you turned away from Lady Tyrell, watching the newcomers.

"Lady Y/h/n, Prince Daemon requests your presence."

You apologized to the members of the Tyrell House.

"Hoping to see you again soon, Lady Tyrell." You smiled softly.

Lady Tyrell’s gaze left nothing to be seen, no doubt because of the years at court. You looked at the knights of your house, Sir Reinfrid was not going to be told of the detours you took and especially not of the presence of the prince.

“Well, we’re following you.”

You walked several minutes, in the crowd of people present to encourage the knights and curious. Your heart was palpitating and the same unpleasant warmth was rising in you under the eyes of the people watching the escort you have with Suzanne.

You could see them whispering things in the ear, some looks were enigmatic, other more neutral. Some words were spoken louder, no doubt intended to hurt you or was it right that they did not pay attention. But as you went forward, and the more your heart beat, your ears whistled and your hands trembled.

The path of a hundred meters seemed to become kilometers. The murmurs become thundering voices, their looks become flames, more and more ardent.

But it all stopped when Suzanne put her hand on your shoulder.

“My Lady, we’re here.”

You looked up towards Suzanne, you didn’t pay attention to the fact that you had lowered your head along the way. Looking at the Targaryen knights, you could see the black tent where two guards were standing in front of the tent closure. This one was closed, the knights moved away, leaving you the way, the two guards hastened to open the tent, allowing you to enter.

With your hands still shaking, you passed the entrance first followed closely by Suzanne, she remained next to the entrance.

You watched the inside of the tent, it was large enough to have several pieces of furniture inside, the floor was covered with wooden planks and these by a large dark fabric.

Two thin wooden pillars held the structure from the top of the tent and delimited spaces in it. Red fabrics covered the “walls” of the tent. What you could notice as you entered was the heat, it was hotter than outside.

In a corner was an empty armor stationary. A sweet laugh brought you out of your contemplation. Daemon was standing in the back of the tent, a servant helping him to remove his armor. His long silver hair was covered with earth and tangled. His face was covered with some superficial wounds, a few on his left cheekbone, where Geubert had punched him. Fortunately, Daemon kept his helmet.

“I would never let myself in your contemplation.” Daemon whas smirking

“I…” You felt that feeling again that only he gave me.

You lowered your eyes slightly, which allowed you to see that the servant was struggling with the restraints of Daemon’s breastplate. You began to laugh thinking of Sir Geubert at the blacksmith. Daemon was watching you gently lifting an eyebrow. Wondering about this sudden euphoria.

“I just thought of Sir Geubert.”

"Ah?" Daemon’s initially gentle gaze seemed to have ignited at the mere allusion to the knight.

“You happen to have him pretty badly beaten up, he’s at the blacksmith’s… *laugh softly * If your servant have difficulty, the blacksmith will have it all night.”

You were slowly shaking your head, putting this thought aside, approaching Daemon, you noticed that the servant had just detached one of the straps of the plastron leaving the left side of Daemon tied.

“I… Maybe I could help?…For your armor.”

“No problem.” He smirk that sweet smirk of him.

Daemon watched the servant while ordering him to stop, sending him to get something to drink.

As for you, you were getting close enough to Daemon to look at the location of the straps. Starting to detach, in any case trying would have been a better adjective. The straps were tight and the breaks were complex, Daemon remained silent, looking at you with an amused look, seeing you stubbornly on the strap, how the features of your face stood out in your reflection. His heart beat like it had never beat for any other. It seemed for some time that in your presence, Daemon was gradually feeling changes in his own behavior. It bothered him at first, but as time passed, he worked on it.

It was with a sigh of relief that you managed to untie the strap. You began to untie the last tethered, you could feel the look of Daemon, you began to imagine what helping him to remove his armor whenever he needed it. It was one of the things that you hadn’t imagined before and you were getting more and more excited about it, detaching each piece of its armor, touching the parts of its body that would reveal itself, a butterfly feeling in your belly, You were shaking your head gently, smiling gently.

“Congratulations on the tournament.” You were just breaking the strap.

«You give me luck, ñuha jorrāelagon» Daemon put a hand on your cheek.

"Luck has nothing in it." You raised your head to him.

You felt Daemon’s thumb caressed your cheek, you let his chest strap fall, which emitted a metal noise, this one was attenuated by the fabric on the ground.

You wanted to put your hands on his chest freed from his armor, this desire escaped you the moment you saw Daemon bringing his head closer to yours, slightly tilting his head to the side. Just as you felt Daemon’s lips resting on yours, your heart was pounding. You no longer paid attention to what was around you, whether it was the outside noise and the people passing in front of the tent, or even the presence of Suzanne, who looked at the scene with wide-eyed eyes, her mouth ajar and her hands trembling. All your thoughts were turned to Daemon, on the sensation of his warm and soft lips against yours, a slight taste of spicy wine was perceptible. His kiss was mesmerizing, both sure and sweet, you placed one hand against his cheek avoiding touching his injured cheekbone, the other on his chest. Your heart was pulsating with such ferocity that it gave you the impression that it would let go at any moment. You felt Daemon’s second hand placed in your back at your hips bringing you closer to him. You had closed your eyes savoring the first kiss, memorizing the warmth of his hands, the smell of Daemon, which was a mixture of the earth of his fight but also of fire, such as the residual smell of a campfire. But also a slight smell of herbs, coming from his bath taken the same morning. You put your hands on the top of his torso, one of which was lying that the fire of his top, you could feel the warm skin of Daemon against your hand, a tender moan slipped from your lips.

The world seemed to slow down, as if time stopped.

But this sweet moment was interrupted when Suzanne cleared her throat, her gesture was discreet but loud enough to get you out of screwing.

You caught your breath that you didn’t realize you had held back. Daemon gave Suzanne an irritated look, intimidating her to explain her gesture.

“If Lady Y/h/n doesn’t see you in your quarters, she’ll be furious. Lady Y/n” Her tone was nervous and her head was down.

Although your desire to stay with Daemon is very great, you knew full well that Suzanne was right, the whole affair of the tournament was already bringing rumors that were not welcome for your home. It was even surprising not to have received letters from your father, ordering your return. The reason told you to return to Red Keep.

You were giving Daemon a look.

“I… I should go home.” You put one of your hands on her cheek, gently caressing her. “We can walk the way together.”

Daemon smiled in the corner, lowered his head near your ear and whispered.

“I’d love to, but I can’t go home now.” From the corner of his eye, a hint of disappointment crossed your face. “We’ll meet again tonight, wear your most sober clothes.”

You kept your head away from Daemon, your look was questioning. Wondering why you had to dress like that. He kissed you a second time, this time the kiss lasted a few seconds, but the strength and desire that Daemon put in, made you lose feet, it resonated in you.

It is against your heart that you removed your hands from Daemon’s chest and neck, dropping them along your chubby body. You two drifting apart as the waiter who left early returned carrying wine.

«Nyke ūndegon ao tolī, jorrāelagon»

You smiled softly at Daemon, your heart throbbing, your body seemed to be on fire. It was Suzanne who pulled you out of the tent, wishing Daemon a good day.

It was with your head in the clouds that you came in, Suzanne grabbing your arm, thinking you wouldn’t turn back.

Your return to the Red Keep seemed calm and uneventful. You didn’t pay attention to the rare people who noticed you leaving the prince’s tent. But Sir Reinfrid had seen the knights to whom he entrusted your safety, he had seen them waiting in front of the tent. And it was the tight fists he saw you come out of that same place.

The night began to fall slowly, your meal was served in your apartments and that since the tournament opening banquet. You were eating at your end, reading a book from the castle library. It was the story of Aegon the conqueror, for several days you had been immersed in it, although it was not the first time you read the story.

You had come out of your reading when your door opened, doubting the arrival of Suzanne, who had come to express her anxiety an umpteenth time since your arrival at the Red Keep, you did not look up, only expressing.

“It’s okay, Suzanne, you can go.”

"Can’t she live without you?" said a voice that you would recognize between a thousand.

“Da... Daemon…” You felt the embarrassment rise in you, diverting your attention to him.

Daemon gently smirk, closing the door behind him. He was dressed simply, wearing dark colors and a cape around his shoulders. You saw he was wearing a pile of tissue on one of his arms. You would get up near him, he would look at you, as if to suggest, you were dressed in your most sober dress that made up your wardrobe, the least difficult thing to find, because living in the north of Westeros, it was more common to wear sober clothes. The cold even in summer left no other choice.

Daemon asked you if you were ready, you asked him the question, but his only answer was one of his enigmatic smiles that frightened your heart. The fabric he was wearing was a cape of the same color as his own.

You put the cloak on your head, tying it, Daemon looked behind you, watching the book lay on the table, he appreciated your desire for knowledge.

Hand in hand, you came out of your chambers, the guard watched you pass, he wanted to intervene but Daemon was faster, reminding him not to say anything, bribing him with a few rooms.

Going through passages you had never seen before, you went out by the ramparts of the Red Keep, down the stairs, and a few streets, you arrived in the middle of the party that was animating King’s Landing.

For the guard posted at the door of your apartments, the trouble was just beginning.

About 20 minutes after you went out with Daemon, your mother wanted to talk to you. The poor guard, trying to stay calm, explained that you asked him not to be disturbed.

Your mother did not hear it this way, forcing the guard to move out of her way, Sir Reinfrid, caught the guard and pulled him away from the door.

As your mother opened the door, she felt that something was wrong, she called you, without an answer. A shiver ran through her spine. She ordered Sir Reinfrid to send knights in search of you, begin by questioning the guard. He said nothing, Sir Reinfrid was frightening but the prince’s anger was even more frightening to him. He didn’t want to end up in a dungeon or worse, burned alive by a dragon.

Suzanne came running into your room, looking in every possible corner, begging your mother’s forgiveness for not knowing where you might be, when she left you, everything seemed normal to her.

The noises of the guards looking for you eventually stirred up the whole castle, rumors roamed the corridors, until they reached the ears of Otto Hightower, he was annoyed, the disappointments of Prince Daemon throughout the week were enough to irritate him. A servant arrived to tell him that the king wanted his presence in the throne room.

When he entered the room, he saw Viserys with a serious look, talking with your mother. She asked or even ordered to find you the guard was kneeling before the throne, Sir Reinfrid now forcing him to stay there.

"How could she disappear from this castle?!"

“I advise you not to speak this way to your king.”

“If it was your daughter, you’d send knights looking for her in King’s Landing!”

King Viserys was watching the guard, ordering him to say what happened. The guard remained silent, although drops of sweat were dripping from his forehead, testifying to his suffering.

Your mother was angry and worried. She had sent a letter to your father, asking him to take the road to King’s Landing, that the past events were serious.

Viserys was trying to stay calm, if Rhaenyra had disappeared, he would have had the whole kingdom searching for her, he could understand your mother’s anger. He could not risk a conflict with the north, for though your house is of small nobility, the Starks would be on your side and with them their northern allies.

“King Viserys!” A fifty-year-old servant was entering the room. “Prince Daemon is not found either.”

Viserys became livid, any trace of blood seemed to have come out of his face.

“According to a servant, the prince was seen in the hallway leading to Lady Y/h/n’s apartments.”

Viserys clings to the throne, he had warned Daemon, ordering him not to continue his little game with you. If he wanted the throne so badly, he wouldn’t have it by starting a war with the north. Otto ordered all the knights to search for you, that all the neighborhoods and houses be examined. It was vital to find you.

Translation :

ñuha jorrāelagon/my love

Nyke ūndegon ao tolī, jorrāelagon/ I see you later,love

I need to talk

The first part is a google translation of my first post written in French. The second part will be an addition to what I wrote. This is the link of the first post. (And just as i was going to post this, i just have two feedback, and thank you, maybe it's not the best day to post this but at least it will not be in my head that much)

------

Today I will speak in French,

French being my mother tongue, I am more able to express myself.

It’s been two years since I started writing fanfictions, two years where I try to improve my English, where I write first in French then translated into English to be sure of the turns of phrase, of my intention in my writing. (Which makes my posts are not daily either, it takes me a lot of time)

You are adorable for all the likes. And thank you.

But.

I would also like to have comments, because I know that I leave spelling and grammar mistakes. I write for chubby/plus size/fat readers, and sometimes I feel like you just read because of the lack of this type of content.

Even in my publications of the kinktober. I do not know if what I write is correct or not. I just had one person ask me about not writing hard bdsm, and a question about, if I would write for other characters. But... why don’t you leave me a comment to tell me WHY do you want me to write about other characters? Why do YOU want me to write Hard bdsm, do you like what I write? Do people write about the characters you want?

Another example. When I put the draft fanfictions requests for kinktober, I did not receive any news from anonymous people, which makes me not want to publish the kinktober, because I do not know if it is good for them. I am lost.

Completely lost.

I have fanfiction ideas, I have unpublished writings, and I don’t publish them, because... I don’t know if what I write is good, just having likes is fine, but having a comment, just one, it’s a diamond.

------

I will add something.

I know that I cannot ask for the engagement of people's, I cannot force them to interract.

I do not read or interract with others authors as, I fear to be judges, to be see as needy, to be reject.

I know that writing for chubby/plus size mean that I will have less people's reading my work. But fuck, why not leaving a commentary? To put courage for those who write that type of content, if I wanted more people's to see my work I would have not write for chubby/plus size, and I would have write for "normal" reader(I hate to have to use the word normal), I would have not write the reader as the more neutral that I can and chubby/plus size. I would have put less time, less passion on it.

I don't understand why there is this lack of feedback. And I'm not the only one, reddit is full of people's asking the same think, that told that they lost their want, their passion in fanfictions.

I write first for myself, it's true. But... seen that people's like what I write and it's true that I have some reblogs, less then the likes and more then the commentary, but... even in the reblogs there is no feedback, even a emoji is good (thank you if you pass by your emoji have made my day)

I feel like that people's just feed on fanfictions and are angry when a autor ask for a feedback to know if it was good or not. Having just... even someone, in anon, or in dm's if they don't want their commentary visible by all, to just... have a interaction. I'm not someone who will scream or be angry, i just... sometime i feel lonely.

Lonely, because i don't know how to interract with peoples, i don't know when and how I can try to interract with someone, if I would not be too much, as i know that I can be too passionate with something and this made peoples go away. I know that not everyone are alway connect on tumblr or ao3.

Oh ao3, this one is depressing, as you can watch how much peoples have read or at least interract and when you see the number of kudos or comments, there is a mountain between them sometime. (I don't talk here only for me, but for the other's too, as i have already told, you can see on reddit peoples talking about that)

I needed to talk about this, even if you don't think like me or don't live this. It's okay. We are all different, and I'm sorry to have bothered you.

Introduction : Here

Rules : Here

Ao3 profile : Earenwen_Leafwhisper

Twitter/X : Lady_eare

Ask about other characters : here

Ask for a beta reader : here

Ø "Breathe, everything will be fine"

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Ø  A tragédie

Ø He's first and only love / Part 2 / Part 3 / Alternat Final

Ø The prince of her heart / Incertitudes

Ø Sleeping beauty

Ø Not wanted (teaser) / Not wanted (part 1) / Not wanted part 2 / Not wanted part 3

Ø The handmaid and the dragons / part 2 (platonic)

Ø Reject / part 2 (smut)

Request :

Ø Early evening (smut)

Ø He's sweet flower (Tyrell reader)

Ø Dragon and sun (Martell reader)

Ø Life in Dorne (Martell reader)

Ø Daemon x Dornish ex courtesan reader

Ø Marital life of Daemon and Martell reader

Ø Nsfw Alphabet

Ø Cinderella / Prewiew

Request :

Ø Aemond being smitten by his futur wife

The tavern girl

Request :

Ø Nsfw Alphabet

Imagine:

Ø Good to be king

Request:

Ø The handmaid and the dragons

Ø Arachnophobe

Ø Opera

♤ Kinktober 2024 list (for request)

♤ Kinktober 2024 masterlist

Ø Chubby/plus size

Ø A first kiss

Tag game

I want Barbie to make more money than avengers infinity war on opening night.

Request Aemond Targaryen x chubby reader

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x chubby female reader

Abstract : Just Aemond being smitten by his futur wife

Disclaimer: this is the first time I write for Aemond so he can be a litle out of character. ( I’m watching House of the dragon again, so if I write for Aemond again, I’d probably write more easily) and English is not my mother tongue.

Aemond had always lived in the shadow, the shadow of the Tragaryen family and the shadow of his brother who would ascend the throne. He liked to think that it would satisfy him throughout his life. Although he found that Aegon would not make a good king, he would never be even if he forced himself.

Aemond always felt the most Targaryen, having had to fight harder than Aegon to whom everything was already due. He rode Vhaegar the greatest dragon living in Westeros, learned High Valyrian and so many other things.

He did not think that something could be missing, something so simple and complex at the same time. Once he became an adult, he understood it.

As the state of health of Viserys deteriorated and succession approached, the weight of alliances was to be tested, alliances led by force were not the most enduring, but those of more solemn unions lasted longer.

Missives had been sent to the noble and less noble houses furthest from the capital, those which had through the houses more important view imposed the choice of Rhaenyra as their queen. In his messages, he talked about marriage, whether it was with Aemond or one of the children of Aegon if the descendants of the houses were too young for a marriage. They would stop at nothing to secure Aegon’s ascension to the throne.

Several messengers had come to express the disagreements of the families they served. Other families, the less noble and most inclined to alliances had made the way.

For several months, young and old women, different from each other, were presented. Alicent ordered Aemond to be courteous with them, to be the most pleasant. Thing on the other side, the same instructions don’t last to be asked. One of the first lady was so intimidated by the prince that she dared not look at him, another much older than him had already married, and told him about her own first marriage rather than trying to get to know the prince.

The days were passing, the number of ladys was getting smaller and smaller, Aemond was tired of all this masquerade. The last one on the list, it was an update of the lover who was shaken by the very moment when they were alone, jumping around his neck, he had to fight to take her down and order a knight to take her out.

The same evening, a small carriage, simple, arrived in the courtyard of the castle, a small coat of arms Y/h/c was painted there. The members of the Y/h/n family, not wanting to disturb the royal family at such a late hour, asked to be taken to their quarters and only to warn them to arrive.

At the same time the Targaryens, took the meal in «family» so to speak, Viserys rested time although badly in his room, Aegon was drunk, Haelan in his own thoughts. Alicent worried about the future of his children, Otto spoke to a servant who had arrived a few minutes before. To finish Aemond, turned to the slightest suspicious noise, the image of the hysterical young woman came back to him and a chill crossed his back.

It was not until the next day that Aemond was freed from this fear. When he met Lady Y/n Y/h/n.

Their first encounters were framed by their respective mothers. The young woman’s mother was one of Alicent’s lady in waiting when she was pregnant with Aegon. Aemond posting back, looking with her purple eye Y/n, how, she remained silent watching their mothers talk. A sweet smile on his lips, he surprised himself to look away when she looked at him, his heart pulsating.

Y/n approached Aemond, neither too quickly nor too slowly or fearing to be in his presence, she was natural.

“It seems to me we haven’t introduced ourselves yet.” Y/n spoke in a soft voice, like when one person was talking to another scared.

Aemond looked at her from the corner of his eye, it was rare that anyone spoke to him in this way, his own mother had not used her tone of voice for as long as he remembered.

«I am Y/n of the house Y/h/n» She nodded slightly.

“Aemond…”

“I hope this day goes well.”

Aemond was astonished that the round young woman was gentle with him, looking at him even in «the eyes» and did not seem to be disturbed by the vision of his scar.

They sat in one of the corners of the room, chatting, Y/n asked him what he liked, what he thought of castle life, she was interested in him, and every question he answered Aemond asked Y/n the same question, or one that looked like it. He enjoyed learning about the young woman’s life.

The day passed quickly, too quickly for them. Aemond offered to escort Y/n, something in him didn’t want them to leave so quickly. He wondered when the door to Y/n’s room closed before him, what happened to him.

The more time passed, the more he found himself dreaming of the young woman, of wanting to be at her side. Every morning, he found her in the gardens, greeting her, at the time of the meals their mothers had made them sit next to each other. Aegon was happy to make fun of his brother, of how he behaved in the presence of Y/n. Aemond tried to remain calm in front of his brother, but Aegon’s taunting towards the weight of the young woman boiled Aemond’s blood. Aegon did not spank him with the intention of hurting the young woman, from the little he had seen her and talked with her, he had learned that royalty did not interest her, that she had come, because it was an opportunity for their mothers to see each other again. If he was teasing Y/n, it was to annoy Aemond.

More than once Aemond had found himself clenched fists, watching Aegon with his one eye. If they weren’t brothers, Aemond wouldn’t have been so held up.

It took only a month for their future marriage to be announced, ensuring a covenant that Alicent welcomed with open arms. For the house Y/h/n although native of Westeros it was established far from the continent since the conquest of Aegon the conqueror, having their own fleet of ship, marching and war, their own army. Relations between Westeros and this family remained courteous through their exchange of goods. But if a war were declared nothing would have prevented the whim of a future queen or king to want to conquer their lands. Now with the future marriage of Aemond and Y/n, this uncertain future became clearer.

Everyone liked to say that of the two future spouses, the most nervous was Aemond.

He had never felt such emotions in the presence of anyone. The only cloud on the horizon was not due to Y/n, but to himself.

Several months had passed, their bonds were forged from the hardest of metals.

Aemond was on Vhagar’s back that night, trying as much as he could to persuade him not to think about it. But Y/n had never seen a dragon since arrived, Aemond had asked Y/n to wait for him near the area where Vhagar was resting.

He came out of this trance when he felt Vhagar preparing to land. When he looked towards the ground, he saw Y/n with a guard, they were waiting in the background, the young chubby women, looking towards the sky. If he could be by his side at that time, he would see his eyes peeled and gleaming with the dragon’s vision.

At the moment when Aemond landed on the ground and saw Y/n a weight on his shoulders gone. Vhagar looked at his dragon boat, before observing the young woman. She uttered a dull roar, as if she had understood why Aemond was so nervous.

The guard left for the Red Keep, the moment he saw the two future spouses going off arguing among themselves, not paying any attention to him. Or even ordering him anything.

Y/n had placed his arm around Aemond’s, resting his head on his shoulder, they walked in silence, observing the starry sky. Aemond sighed, stopping their steps.

“Y/n… I didn’t tell you everything about myself”

“It’s nothing, we all have our little secrets.” Y/n was trying to comfort the young prince.

“Mine is not the size of a dragon.”

Y/n was intrigued, she calmly waited for Aemond to find his words. She put her free hand on Aemond’s chest, smiling gently.

He did not understand how Y/n, the sweet and busty lady, could accept to marry him. How she could make him feel both strong and weak, weak in the face of this fear that she would reject him for his missing eye.

“When I first rode Vhagar… that night I lost my eye.”

“Your mother is vaguely alluding.” Y/n’s voice was just a whisper.

“I fought with my nephews, after the insults…I had my eye punctured during our fight.” Aemond put his hand on his eye patch. “Since…I….”

Y/n put his hands on Aemond’s.

“You don’t have to do Aemond, you’ll do it when you’re sure.”

“I’d feel better if you knew everything.”

He removed his eye cover, revealing the stone placed on the spot of his missing eye, he closed his valid eye. Waiting for the reaction of Y/n, hoping that she would not react like the other young women of the court, although in his heart he knew that she was different in many ways.

Y/n observed the Sapphire, bursts of light passed through it and bounced, she could see the faint reflection of the stars. She stepped back, observing the face of Aemond, how his lips were pinched, how the smile he wore beside him was faded. She placed her hand on Aemond’s left cheek, caressing the contour of her scar with her thumb.

“You are so beautyfull.” His voice was just a whisper.

Aemond thought he had imagined, but when he felt Y/n’s lips resting on his cheek he opened his eye, looking at her surprised, stunned.

“It only increases my love for you.”

"Do you love me?" Aemond was surprised.

“Of course, idiot, I would never have agreed to join you if I didn’t.” She laughs, not to make fun of him, but of this situation.

Aemond stared at her, feeling light for the first time in his life. He smiled and kissed her. It was not a gentle, light kiss that anyone would imagine. But a kiss filled with frustration, envy and love, when their lips are connected, their teeth didn’t hit each other hard enough to hurt them.

If Aemond was sure of anything in his life, it is that he would do anything for her, if he should take the throne in her brother’s place he would make her his queen. Nothing and no one could separate them.

Hi, sorry for my English, it's not my language and I'm using Google translator, I hope it's enough for you to understand me. I really like your writing and I had an idea that I think if you wrote it would make it good, where Viserys did not marry Alicent but Laena, but they never had children so Daemon really took over as heir to viserys on the condition that he would marry Rhaenyra, they marry and Jace and luke are Daemon's children. Rhaenyra is pregnant with Joffrey and to celebrate Viserys plans a great banquet that will last days and all the lords are invited. At the party Daemon meets Lord Tyrell's daughter and falls deeply in love with her and takes her as his second wife, Rhaenyra is not satisfied, but does nothing about it. As married times go by, Daemon loves the reader much more and favours her children, and Rhaenyra is jealous

He's sweet flower

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Fem Chubby Tyrell! reader

Author’s note: hello, don’t worry, Google translation does a good job, oh thank you, it touches me a lot that you appreciate. Usually I don’t write by specifying the reader in a specific noble house but by writing the reader in Tyrell, I don’t specify the origin of her mother so that she can come from where you want. Hope you like it. Feel free to leave your opinion on how your request was written, anonymously or not, I just really enjoyed writing for your request.

Author’s Note 2: I based myself on the age gap between Jace, Luke and Joffrey of the books (thanks Wiki) and by writing «young woman» I aim big, from early twenties to early thirties.

 trigger warning: English is also not my mother tongue, so i'm sorry if there is mistakes.

The sun was setting over the gardens of Highgarden, summer was just beginning, the ambient heat was comforting, the flowers covered most of the soils, trees and shrubs of the gardens. The spring months had been very grey and rainy, several trees had large fruits full of water, several servants were responsible for the gathering, they went to work all summer long so that the kitchens could serve them fresh or keep them by turning them into jam or by naturally drying them. They were not the only ones working in the castle. Young squires trained in the animate me with various weapons, whether it be the sword, the fighting axe, the mass or the bow, while others trained to ride a horse, some having never climbed to the screens. But they all worked far more than usual.

The day had been pleasant a part of the Tyrell family was staying in one of the largest gardens, your uncle Lord Matthos Tyrell successor of the house, accompanied by your father were chatting under a large umbrella, composed of wood, linen fabrics and some pieces of warm colors. Lord Tyrell’s wife and your mother sat beside them, watching the younger members of the family played and heckled while you sat under one of the trees, reading, while your young cousin Harlan learned his lessons.

Matthos was talking with your father about the royal invitation, it must have been to announce some important things for sending a messenger. For a month in the windbreaks, a great storm broke over the region of Reach, the violent wind shook the branches of the trees, the younger ones folded under the breath, the beasts had to have hurried into their stables and henhouse. Luckily, the rivers had not yet come out of their beds, fortunately for the villages nearby.

In this storm, a herald accompanied by two knights rode to Highgarden, the sound of the clogs in the mud was barely audible, the breaking rain masked largely the surrounding sounds. The glimmers emanating from the castle windows were barely visible in the rain, which like a beacon guiding the messenger and his escort. At the time of passing the pat of the front door the three people were soaked to the bones, the servants had directly welcomed them and taken them to one of the large rooms of the castle, Lord Matthos Tyrell had joined them to discuss.

This is how your uncle spoke to your father about a scroll in his hands, protecting it from the sun.

“Viserys seems to get crazier and crazier with time.” Matthos sighed.

“Who would not, in his situation many would not have held.”

“Marry your own daughter to your brother? Celebrate future births?”

“The Targaryen are different, he had to consolidate his grip on the throne.”

“According to the Hightowers, Viserys accepted the marriage of Rhaenyra and Daemon, although the council is against it.” Matthos giggled for a moment. “He could have refused.”

Your father sighed, he understood that his brother reacted like this, the iron throne was very coveted, Viserys of his first union with Queen Aemma had not had a son, her death had mourned more than the Targaryen, She was appreciated and seemed to radiate during her presences. The fact that the king remarried was not a surprise, although the age of the very young bride was much talked about. At first, the lack of birth reassured the nobles and the people that Lady Laena’s age was inappropriate for marriage. In the coming years, this lack of birth slowly began to worry, perhaps the young queen could not give birth. Murmurs and rumours then began their way into the kingdom. What would happen when Viserys died? Who would take the throne? The houses that had passed their allegiances could equally break it, it risked imploding the kingdom. Rhaenyra, as the only child of the king, could assert his birthright on the throne, but none of the great Lords and the people were ready for a queen to rule the kingdom. Daemon as a brother of the king, was the direct heir, but having a bad reputation among the people and especially the nobles, was a complex choice. The union of Daemon and Rhaenyra a few years ago was intended to strengthen their «legitimacy» to the throne. Although many noble houses did not like it, the people were wary, for this marriage did not guarantee a long peace full of prosperity.

"Brother, why don’t you go to these festivities?"

“I have to deal with the requests from the villages, don’t forget, I don’t have time to go and celebrate.”

“I would take the applications directly, you could take the opportunity to find an fiance to my tender niece.”

Your father sighed, it was true that you had not yet engaged, it is not that you had no young and not so young men who wanted to court you, it is that for your father, you were still his little daughter, even though you are a young woman. He promised to think about it not wanting to tarnish this sunny day with a heated discussion, even though he knew that Matthos would repeat the question to him several times, until the moment your father snapped.

That’s how a week later, a carriage carrying the flower of the Tyrell house, headed for King’s Landing.

It was the first time you traveled to King’s Landing, you were only a child at the death of Queen Aemma, you had kept the blurred memory of your Uncle Matthos and your aunt being gone for several weeks, and that before their return Highgarden had become silent, for a few days. Your nanny had vaguely explained to you that it was customary to mourn for important people whether we knew him or not. It intrigued you, but you quickly forgot about the sadness, wanting to play with the other children present.

At the time of the king’s remarriage, you still remained at the castle, just as you remained for the various festivities that took place at the Red Keep, Highgarden satisfied you, you did not understand why the other ladies and young lady wanted so much to go there. Your nanny had repeatedly explained to you the misadventures that could occur in the capital, how the streets were covered with vermin and dirt. That this was no place for a girl.

Yet when you looked at the landscape through the screened opening, you could see large walls with black and red coats of arms. With difficulty you tried to see how the streets of the city really were, painfully observing colors and movement, you could not fully observe the life teeming around you.

When the carriage stopped, you waited to get out, the heel sounds of the boots echoed in the outer courtyard of the Red Keep.

Servants were the first to greet you, taking your luggage to the rooms that you would occupy during the festivities. A knight with a white beard and well cut came to greet you, explaining that the king being very absorbed by the preparations of the festivities apologized for not coming to welcome you in person.

Your father avoided giving a harsh answer to the knight, and thanked him. The castle never had him again. Perhaps it was due to not being at home or having to be always on guard whether it was for behaviour or words understood in the wrong way.

While your father joined the other lords already present, your mother offered to give your respect to the Queen, which simply meant, to say hello to her and luckily have a little conversation.

When you saw Queen Laenna, you were surprised by her look, it is true that you found her very beautiful, but her look was filled with a kind of melancholy, like a bird enclosing in a cage, a golden cage. With your mother you greeted him, exchange a few sentences about your visit, asking how she lived the future festivities. You were lost in her purple look almost erase.

"Is it true that you rode the greatest dragon in the world?"

This question had escaped you, you had heard lords and lady speak of it since Laenna had begun to ride the dragon. His words come out of your mouth, without thinking about all the protocols that reigned in the Red Keep.

To your question a kind of spark lit up the queen’s gaze.

« It’s true, even though I haven’t been able to do it for a few years.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, it must be extraordinary.”

“Much more.”

When you left your interview with Laenna, your mother scolded you for a few moments, it was not a good idea to speak so openly to the queen without her consent. You have a few seconds to apologize before continuing your way through the corridors of the Red Keep.

To say that the future festivities related to Princess Rhaenyra’s pregnancy were great was an understatement. During the day everything seemed calm, several lords and lady were chatting in the corridors and gardens of the castle, but on the first night of the banquet, calm gave way to fun, alcohol and food.

In the corridors of the castle several jugglers entertained the guests who waited before their entrances in the huge banquet hall. In the gardens, fire-eaters were getting ready, as was the band of musicians who accompanied them. 

At the festivities they had attended, such a show were not common. And it was only the first day. That night, the houses present were to present their respect and congratulations to future parents, while wearing the colors of his own home.

The entrance was generally spanned starting with the noblest houses, the vassal houses followed them, with a few exceptions.

“Don’t forget what I told you Y/n.”

“I know, mother, don’t speak without permission, don’t look them in the eye because it could be understood as disrespectful.”

“And above all, try to have fun, my dear child.” Your mother took your hand and gently squeezed it.

Your parents had explained to you that it would be interesting for you to get closer to a single young man from one of the houses present, whether they are the noblest houses or not.

If the little shows in the corridors had caught your attention, the size of the banquet hall did just as much. Many guests were already installed, music was audible through conversations. A large chandelier and many fabrics raised the ceiling and spaced far enough so that it did not catch fire.

The Tyrell House entered before the Hightower House, while you were waiting you exchanged a few words with the king’s daughter, Alicent, she seemed nice to you, she was talking about her recent marriage, with a young man from a vassal house in the Vale, This helped to strengthen the ties shaken when Prince Daemon’s first wife died. Although the agreement seemed cordial to you, Alicent was holding her hands, looking at them you could see that she passed her thumbnail on the skin surrounding her other nails.

The royal table, which was located on a platform, allowed them to observe their guests although it was not very high, two markets hardly separated them from the remains of the guests. Your father stood in front of you and your mother. After bowing in front of the people present, your father exchanged a few words with King Viserys. During this time, you watched who was sitting at the table, with your back straight and your head held high, watching from left to right. There was a man wearing the emblem of the king’s hand on his chest, his beard gray, and his look was hard and you seemed calculating, if this man was indeed the father of the sweet Alicent, she seemed to have held more of her dead mother than of her father. The Velaryons were standing on her left side, they seemed to you to be the queen’s parents, for she separated them from the king and spoke to them much more openly and seemed to be out of her good mood. The king in the center of the table seemed to you to be older than the age he had. He was starting to lose hair, his complexion was more greyish, almost a sick complexion. To the left of the king was a young woman barely older than you, her plump belly and silver hair made you understand that it was the king’s daughter, Princess Rhaenyra. You did not dwell on the details, for your gaze was like drawing by the person standing next to you.

A Targaryen, dressed in black was standing in his chair, one hand resting on the table. He didn’t seem so old to you, you looked up from his hand up to his chest, slowly going up to his neck, his jaw, his thin lips to finish on his eyes, by the distance you couldn’t see them clearly, but you imagined eyes of a bright purple. His hair was short and tied to the back of his head. Prince Daemon seemed even more attractive to you than the lady could say in the halls.

His gaze was fixed on something, it took you a few seconds to notice that he was staring at you, in an instant you felt like undressing under his gaze, perhaps it was because of your dress, Tyrell colors with a more plunging neckline than the rest of the women’s outfits present in these places, or was it due to her look that seemed to detail you, from head to toe, while gently licking her upper lip. You felt a gentle warmth mounted in your body as your hands became slightly moist, your mother pulled you out of this exchange by accompanying you to the table where you were installed.

On the first days of the banquets, all were feasting, drinking and eating much more than they should. Lord Baratheon had two nights during which he ended up being escorted by guards, so drunk that he fell trying to walk. Rhaenyra had only appeared at the opening banquet, locking himself in his room for the rest of the festivities.

The feeling of being observed had lasted all along the great meals. To try to forget it, you danced with several young lady, of one Alicent. Some less imposing house lords had asked for a dance that you had accepted. Although more chubby than the average woman present, you did not want to close on yourself, remaining smiling, you had confidence in your natural charm, but a part of you said that the name Tyrell was not at all at interactions, The young lords who had to find a wife did little to spank the fine mouths if their future wives were of noble lineage, you paid little attention, wanting to see the good side of things, you had fun and it was enough for you.

On the fourth night of festivities, you wanted to stay in the gardens, although livening, the places were quieter than the banquet hall. The feeling of being observed was for several hours faded, you were relaxing sitting on one of the benches of the largest garden, some knights were guarding the place, and some couples were watching the shows of the fire-eaters.

You were suddenly taken by a chill, it was not because of the light breeze that was blowing, it was even pleasant to you compared to the heat and dampness of the banquets, no other thing was going on you were sure.

"Lady Y/n. "

A man’s voice made you turn away from your contemplation of the place. You directed your head in the direction of sound, your heart missed a beat.

Prince Daemon was a few meters away from you. He was dressed in black boots and pants, and his jacket had scaly details and thin dark red trim. Her hair was always tied to the back of her head.

“Pr… Prince Daemon.” You were caught off guard.

"Don’t you like these festivities?" A smirk was attached to his lips.

“They’re nice, but I find the gardens more welcoming, so it’s good to be a little quiet.”

“My brother enjoys this kind of activity.”

"And you not my prince?" You could not hold this question.

“I’m less likely to like them, less strutting around.”

A relative silence settled in, not seeing him moved, you wondered why the prince was in the gardens, Daemon watched you, you did not look like the other lady, something in you had held his gaze, Maybe it’s your confidence, maybe it’s your less-dressed clothes. To put an end to this silence and its administration, which was beginning to make you nervous, you asked him the first question that came to your mind.

“Is it true that you fought the crabs for three years? “

You opened your eyes, you forgot the manners, and addressed yourself to the prince. You lowered your head gently, murmuring an excuse. Daemon rie slightly.

"It is true, why such a question, Lady Tyrell?" He leaned his head gently to the side.

“We heard about the war at the Highgarden, but never in detail, one day you were at war and suddenly you had won.”

“I can tell you what happened.”

“With pleasure, my prince, but… you don’t have to.”

Daemon did not answer you, he just approached to sit beside you. For several hours you listened, how the crabs had become dangerous for Westeros, how the years of war had unfolded to end with the king’s decision to come and help them after three years of war. You did not refrain from commenting on the king’s behavior, apologizing afterwards to Daemon, you did not have to speak thus of the crown. He smirk more at your words, but does not correct you, simply continuing to tell you his story.

The first glimmers of daylight appeared on the horizon, Daemon was staying by your side all night, chatting or just watching the shows. His presence although at first a little stressful, was almost comforting, his body letting pass a pleasant heat. The hours seemed like minutes. It is almost against your heart that the day rose, you had to go back to the castle, not to arouse the anxiety that might have your relatives not to see you in the morning.

On the following days and nights, Daemon seemed more present, taking part in a discussion with your father on subjects that escaped you. The prince offered you walks in the castle, offering you books for your future reading, Daemon was even interested in your life in Highgarden, leaving you little time to be really alone. In the rare moments when he was not with you, you had offered to keep company with the queen before Alicent, with whom you had made a gentle friendship, persuaded you to visit Princess Rhaenyra. Part of you felt guilty for spending all that time with her husband, when he should have stayed close to her. But another felt flattered by the prince’s attention.

If the gaze of the queen seemed to be off, the gaze of the princess was filled with boredom, two young children with silver hair were playing in her room, a servant was watching them. Rhaenyra was sitting by the window, one hand laying on the sell. You stood by the door while Alicent saluted her, you could observe from their interactions that they had been friends for a long time. Alicent took a few minutes before he introduced you.

“Rhaenyra, this is Lady Y/n Tyrell, we have sympathized the last days. »

As much as the moments passing by Daemon had seemed to you to be fast, the one spending with Rhaenyra seemed endless. You learned the children’s names, and looked at them from afar, you smiled softly at their children’s squabbles. You kept a cordial conversation with the princess, though your heart beat faster than usual. A presentiment became more and more present in you, the one that the princess knew of moments spent with Daemon.

The weekend was quite classic for such festivities.

The last banquet was the most grandiose, fruits and vegetables from Essos were present, dishes flavored with varied spices whether meat or fish, wine reigned on the tables, the buckets were always filled, The musicians were from islands near Essos, which played music with different rhythms and tones than the one usually played in Westeros. Although according to the region the music was different each corner of Westeros had different styles.

At the beginning of the evening, you stood between your mother and Lady Alicent, exchanging opinions on the meal, the guests and the music. From the corner of your eye you could glimpse the king’s table, the guests who sat there had changed from one evening to the next. Moving from close family to the closest advisors and allies of the Targaryen. Only Viserys and Laenna were present every evening. Rhaenyra only had to attend the opening, Viserys explaining that the young mother had to rest.

As the hours went by and the people present began to dance, the centre of the room gradually began to fill with people. Contemplating the group of people dancing, their movement gradually becoming synchronized, you did not pay attention to the people behind you.

"Lady Tyrell, will you accept this dance?"

A young Lord of a vassal house of the Lannisters had just spoken, his voice in grave tones had surprised you, turning on a young man with dark brown hair, and amber eyes, you accepted, he was not unpleasant to look at and courteous. Your parents were staring at you two, wondering if they had planned this meeting.

The dance did not last all the music. Daemon was watching you from the beginning of the meal and the young Lord he called «asshole» in his thoughts, irritated him, he had passed several times behind you before talking to you and the way he had to watch you make Daemon want to tear his eyes out. It is annoyed that Daemon rose towards the dance floor.

When you changed partners, you found yourself face to face with the prince, he, who had not danced all week, began to dance with you.

A dance was followed by a second, then a third. Viserys was not positive to see his brother dancing with a young woman other than his daughter. He sighed, exasperated by the actions of Daemon, Otto had transmitted to him the rumors of the prince’s adventures with the young lady of the house Tyrell. He knew Daemon well enough to know that his brother had something in mind and that he would do anything to get it.

You didn’t finish the night at the banquet, your feet were getting sore and fatigue was working its way through your body. You told your parents and Alicent that you were going to your room. Your parents followed you, fatigue also took them.

On the morning of your departure, you accompanied your parents to greet one last time King Viserys and Queen Laenna, and passed your greetings to the young princess. Daemon was not present, it upset you a little but did not reveal.

This annoyance went away when you arrived home. You were welcomed by several servants as well as members of your family. In your room stood a small pile of letter and parchment saddled. Surprised you asked the maid who was standing by your side, when they had arrived.

“They started when you were in King’s Landing, my lady. Recently they’re crows coming.”

When you took the first parchment, you noticed the Targaryen seal, opened it and noticed a beautiful healing handwriting. It contained a poem about flowers and dragons. Gradually opening the letters you noticed that it was the same writing and that everything was signed in the same way. The same first and last name. Daemon Targaryen. Touched you began to write a letter to the prince, you reread his letters one after the other. Your heart was palpitating, a silly smile sticking to your face. In one of the last letters received the prince promised to go through Highgarden. You began to look forward to this day.

A first visit was made two weeks after the end of the festivities, Daemon had arrived at the back of Caraxes. Your uncle Matthos was pleased to have a member of the royal family come to visit, even though it was Prince Daemon. You stayed in the gardens most of your time, watching the dragon lying in the gardens. Flowers surrounded the animal and contrasted with its red color.

"One day I will take you on his back." Daemon’s promise was written in one of his letters.

This visit was followed by several others, all longer and longer. Most often you and Daemon stayed in the gardens or in the library of the castle, he offered you at his arrival several jewels, rings, earrings and necklaces. Very quickly the end of the year pointed his nose, the leaves of the trees fell and the temperature dropped, this was nothing to compare to the temperatures of the north, but having lived all your life in the south of Westeros, the climate was cold. Daemon had arrived several days before, he intended to ask your father for your hand. Valeryen tradition didn’t stop him from having a second wife, he just had to be persuasive enough.

The news of Rhaenyra’s delivery arrived by raven, Daemon received the message, but did not return to the capital, It was only two days later when a raven arrived to announce the good news of the birth of Prince Joffrey and of his ans Rhaenyra good health that Daemon go. Not without an answer.

Your father agreed to give your hand to the prince. He was not afraid of the Targaryen, but he had heard of the obsessions that the prince might have and that he did everything to get what he wanted. Your father was just hoping the princess wouldn’t take it too hard.

Rhaenyra sat on one of the armchairs of his room fulminaient of the absence of Daemon, it was not the first time that he did not attend a birth, three years in the screen, for the birth of Luke, he stayed in the corridor, for Luke, he had remained with Caraxes. But for Joffrey, he was not even present in the city, no raven had arrived with an answer. When Daemon walked through the door, he walked towards the baby, posing in the arms of one of the nannies, he looked at him, detailing his face, noticing a silver-haired birth. He took him in his arms, without even greeting his wife.

« You were with that slut.” Rhaenyra’s tone of voice was dry.

“Don’t call her that in my presence.” Daemon looked up at Rhaenyra. “She will be my second wife.”

Rhaenyra understood, her husband, her uncle, was indeed in love with another young woman, she who thought that he would leave her before the end of the banquet, had been mistaken. She no longer spoke to him about the day, she was locked up in her room with the children. Viserys was more than despair of Daemon’s actions, he had just been a father for the third time and yet his spirit was elsewhere. Daemon explained to him that there would be no favouritism, that he would like them fairly.

But he was lying, whether it was to his brother or himself.

The ceremony of your marriage took place in the temple of Baelor, blessed by the septs, your house had asked to make a dress in a very «Tyrell» style, your dress, was less voluminous than that of the princess Rhaenyra at her wedding, the fabrics that made up the dress were fabrics of the greatest weavers of Reach and Essos, in the colors of your house, the nexkline was not too provocative, it just emphasized perfectly your chest, as well as the cut of the dress, which bent your silhouette. She also tackled fine embroidery, golden threads.

The marriages of the royal family attracted many people, the lords and lady of the noblest houses had been the first present, with a part of the people amassing at the entrance of the temple.

But this ceremony although official was not enough for Daemon, this ceremony had taken place to please your family and the king, but the ceremony that followed, before the eyes of some witnesses was much more official for the prince. The Valeryen ritual legitimately united you against Rhaenyra who had only the marriage of the seven to satisfy herself. This ceremony is the consequence of gossip, not for the least subtle. For the most part, they were insulting to your physique and your home. "It seems that the prince got her pregnant." "Did you see how big she is? Oh yes, she was already fat." Add giggles and you’ll only get a sample of the hallway gossip.

At the beginning of your marriage, Daemon visited you almost every night, the others he stayed with Rhaenyra, you could feel the princess’s gaze being more and more present and heavy, Your only ally in the Reed Keep was Queen Laenna and a surprising few knights of her close guard, from the young Sir Criston Cole. In the moments when Daemon was not with you, you visited the queen, although her visits were rare and spaced out.

The news of your pregnancy, did not surprise people, the prince ravages you almost every night, it was inevitable that you waited, by chance, so quickly, your first child. Rhaenyra already spoke to you very little, the communication was for a moment interrupted, Laenna ordered to her closest guards to watch on you and the unborn child. Your only refuge in the castle was the gardens that reminded you of home, Sir Cole working for your safety. He seemed to hold a kind of resentment towards the princess but you did not question him, for the first time, you had the feeling that the answer would not please you.

At the first delivery, Daemon was in the hallway of your room, he watched whether Cole who was posted at the entrance, Queen Laenna and Viserys were at his side, only the princess was again absent.

“Daemon she will be fine, she’s strong.”

Laenna tried to reassure him, but Daemon, listening to your incessant cries, was nothing more than a mixture of feelings, of anger towards the mestres, of fear, that something bad happened to you or the baby, of the joy of being a father again.

"DAEMON!!"

Your husband looked at the wall that separated him from your presence. For the first time in a long time he felt fear, true fear. With his heart racing to break everything, he held himself back.

“Go to your wife, Y/n needs you.” Viserys have spoked.

It was with trembling hands that Daemon entered, under the gaze of Sir Cole, the mestres present watched him astonish, never of the other births had he disdained entering before the end of the delivery.

“My Prince? The delivery is not over.”

Daemon was aware of it, if anything happened to you, he would be in the front row to kill the incompetent mestres.

The painful delivery ended after a very long day. You were exhausted, perspiration dripped from your forehead, the sheets were in places tearing so much that you had held them forcefully, you asked to carry your child, even though you were exhausted, you wanted to know that your child was well.

Y/s/n was your first son, he had purple eyes and a silver hair birth. Daemon placed a dragon egg in the cradle of Y/s/n. He stayed by your side for a full week, forcing the king’s advisors to wait in the corridor for an interview or a simple visit. Your parents, accompanied by Lord Matthos Tyrell and your aunt, were the first outside the Red Keep to visit you, Alicent followed closely, accompanied by her future husband.

Congratulations came from all over the kingdom, the birth of a child out of marriage between Targaryen was better seen. Gifts from all Westeros were sent, far more than Rhaenyra had ever had.

If the princess had never agreed to Daemon’s remarriage, she had not openly explained it to her family members. But the more her husband changed, the more a feeling of jealousy devoured her. She thought she was the only person for whom Daemon would remain faithful, she had believed him when he promised her that she would remain his priority. Now Rhaenyra no longer believed Daemon. In the vengeful years, her husband showed signs of favoritism, spending his days first teaching Y/s/n the High Valyrian, then defending herself while it was she who taught Jace and Luke the Valyrian. Joffrey grew up and although Daemon was present, he took him less and less for his father, Sir Strong who visited the princess gradually became a surrogate father. Rhaenyra ends up leaving an ultimatum to Daemon, one winter evening, she was waiting in the gardens, everyone knew that this was your refuge.

The same morning you were with your family in the dragon pit, Y/s/n was learning to lead d/n (dragon name), Daemon was more than proud of his children, your last-born, Baela was in your arms, you watched as your son’s eyes lit up in front of the little dragon following his requests, Caraxes was near, your twins born of the second pregnancy, caressed the great red dragon. Caraxes let a roar of satisfaction pass.

This warmth contrasted with the icy wind of the gardens, winter was at its zenith, the dormant flora, reminded you of Highgarden, which at times you missed.

Sir Cole was a few meters from you, Daemon knowing the resentment that the knight held against the princess, let him be your sworn shield, Criston would never have let Rhaenyra hurt you and he was sure of that.

Yet the princess was waiting for you, she wanted to secured her hold over her husband, even if it meant something bad.

"Princess?" Your voice echoed in the lifeless garden.

“I am not here for peace.”

« What peace? We’re not in conflict, princess." You were upset.

“Oh yes… Ever since MY husband fell in love with you. You are nothing, no more than a whore in the slums of King’s Landing.”

You felt Sir Cole stiffen up last, you could only imagine the knight holding his hand on the knob of his sword.

« You are badly placed Rhaenyra to speak to me in this way, when you, was less old than I was at my wedding be dragging a rumor about your visit to the debauchery places, more than one lord calls you, hanging around your back. Everyone thinks that you lost your maidenhood in its place and that your marriage to Daemon was there to avoid humiliating your father’s honor.”

"How dare you speak to me like this?! To your future queen!"

“The truth is painful to hear, I see.”

"I will make you! …"

"What are you going to do, Rhaenyra?"

Rhaenyra who had approached you looked up and saw behind you, Sir Cole sword in hand and Daemon standing by his side.

“D… Daemon… Nothing I promise you.”

Rhaenyra felt her blood freezing in her veins. She didn’t expect Daemon to be present. Daemon ordered Sir Criston to escort you to your children. He had to settle some conflicts with his niece.

Rhaenyra approached Daemon, a look that was meant to be sweet but also showed fear. As she placed a hand on his chest, he grabbed her by the throat tightening enough to hold her without choking her.

“If you threatenh Y/n or I learn that you orchestrate the slightest evil toward her or our children. You will regret it bitterly.”

“D… Daemon…” Rhaenyra was trying to free herself from the prince’s grip.

Daemon looked at her a few seconds before letting go of her grip. He left, without saying a word, walking towards the corridors of the Red Keep.

At the time of Viserys’s death, all were in mourning, Daemon had let his anger explode against the mestres who had not been able to heal his brother. Rhaenyra though devastated by the death of her father was thinking only of one thing, the throne, she would rule Westeros and could proclaim that your union with Daemon would be annulled and proclaimed that your children would be bastards. But… she was caught off guard.

On the morning of the coronation, Rhaenyra woke up in her room, usually the maids came to wake her up, and dressed her, but this time a man was sitting near the entrance, partially hidden by the shadow which was projected by the wardrobe nearby, A cane was visible. Rhaenyra knew this person, she had already met him before. Larys Strong was close to Alicent and close to you.

“Hello Princess”

"What are you doing here?"

“It just so happens that a plot to lose a friend has come to my ears.”

"Daemon will not leave you alive if anything happens to me! Guard!"

Rhaenyra got up rushing to his window to scream for help. But the one was blocked.

“No one will come to your aid at this time, princess, and I doubt that King Daemon will judge me if anything happens to you.”

Rhaenyra trembled, the fear she felt increased, her body trembled, her hands became sweaty and tears formed in her eyes.

On the other side of the city, Daemon was walking in the temple of Baelor, approaching the priest who held the crown of Aegon the conqueror. You stood beside Laenna, and your children, and his first children with Rhaenyra. In the future he was going to proclaim you queen consorts, Rhaenyra would have nothing, Jace, Luke and Joffrey sent through Westeros to marry with less important houses, to leave the crown when the time came to Y/s/n, spanking it noted and signed, reminding the lords each year that he would be the future king of Westeros. But for the moment he thought it could wait, he had a queen to proclaim. His sweet flower.

RHAENYRA IS COMING BACK THIS YEAR

AEMOND IS COMING BACK THIS YEAR

Caraxes

It’s been months since I drew anything, and years since I painted anything, But I must admit I’m pretty proud.

This Caraxes is composed of a mixture of techniques, Not forgetting watercolor, acrylic, color pencils, a white pen and gold paint.

And for a first, I’m happy with this♥️